#this one is 'he's a little unkept from just fighting'

[icharchivist]

oh god right i can use the DLC look in the main game now

sexy hair Ignis my beloved, we meet again

going to use those outfits for a bit to play, i don’t like going out of the canon looks and i do like that else they’re all wearing the same uniform variation and stuff..... but also, some diversity doesn’t hurt. and, sexy hair Ignis. important.

[vngelicc]

⊹₊ ⋆ “i just been fantasizin', and we got a lotta time, baby, come throw the pipe, gotta know what it's like,”

TAGS — vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pussy eating, light degradation, slight dirty talk, jk’s possessive here, oc’s a cute bean, daddy kinks, some nipple play, public sex, unrealistic sex to me bc how tf did no one see???, pimp!jk, stripper!oc, oc needs to know, WAP WAP WAP, this is for my birthday babes, praise kink(?), happy birthday @hyunjinswifeee this is late sorry :((

WORD COUNT — 3.3 k

Wanna know what it's like, baby, show me what it's like, I don't really got no type, I just wanna fuck all night,

The crowd becomes completely immersed in your smooth hip gyrations and body rolls, they holler and catcall while endless money falls at your feet. Tonight’s a special night, you figured why not spend it at work getting money rained on you. All you really had to do was dance because your oh so lovely boss prohibited you from being requested by the club patrons.

Speaking of your boss, he too was in the crowd just right above you in his private balcony. He was watching with those dark onyx eyes of his, filled with desire and hunger. Each time you looked up he was staring right back down. Jungkook looked so fucking good sprawled out like that over the velvet couch with one hand nursing a glass of whiskey, his hair wild and unkept. Just the display of dominance and power had you weak in the knees.

You bit your bottom lip and slowly ran your hands down your body before reaching back to grip the pole tightly and slowly walking around it. You wanted him to know that you were very much on the same page. The cheers from everyone spurred you on as you spun high on the pole with your head thrown back, the screams grew louder and the crowd wilder as they fought each other to get a better view.

I just been fantasizin', and we got a lotta time, baby, come throw the pipe, gotta know what it's like,

You hold your breath and slowly slide down as your eyes flicker back up to Jungkook who is now standing leaned over the balcony. He stares at you through half-lidded eyes, tongue poking the inside of his cheek and a lit cigar sitting in his hand. You decide to kick it up a notch. Just a tiny bit.

The lights suddenly go out and your shadow is illuminated by fuschia pink LED lights all around you. No one can see a thing but your silhouette as you reach behind you to unclip your bra. The club goers lose it as you dangle the item teasingly in the air before tossing it into the crowd wishing it was Jungkook you were throwing it at.

“More, more, more,” they chant as you move sensually. Luckily another bouncer comes to hand you another bra top to put on just before the lights around you snap back on.

You're exciting, boy, come find me, your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me" fuck that feeling both us fighting, could he try me? Mmm, most likely,

You mouth along to the song while staring right at Jungkook, a tiny smile adorning your lips as you spin around once more on the pole. You don’t look over for the rest of the dance because you’re too nervous to face the outcome. This was the first time you’ve pulled a move other than looking at him and giving Jungkook “fuck me” eyes.

When the show ends you’re pulled to the side by a squealing Soyeon and a giggling Soojin. “Did you not fucking see the look he gave you when you did that?!” Soyeon gasps, “He literally looked so fuckin’ pissed—in a good way though—like he did that thing he does with his tongue and cheek and then he pulled one of his guys to the side!”

“He wants you for real.” Soojin smirks as she pokes your side, “Looks like the birthday girl is gonna get some dick tonight.” She coos in your ear while cupping your tits in her hands, “So what’s your plan, hmm?” She lays her chin over your shoulder, Soyeon nods too and waits for your response.

You contemplate for a second but quickly make up your mind, “I think you guys already know,” you lean back into Soojin with a playful little smile, “who wouldn’t?”

“True,” Soyeon nods, “but you have to tell us the details okay? You gotta tell me if that thing he’s carrying is like nine inches or something.” She looks pretty serious and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your throat as you reply ‘then why don’t you find out?’ She gives you an almost offended look, “Girl that’s your man first of all, secondly I got my own.” She winks.

The three of you chat a little more until Namjoon, one of Jungkook’s closest bodyguards, comes through the door searching the room. When he makes eye contact with you he strides over with a friendly demeanor, “y/n, right?” He tilts his head a little to the side, “Jungkook’s asking for you, said if you could meet him up in the balcony?”

You nod in a heartbeat, “I’m just gonna clean up a little, ‘m a little sweaty ‘n stuff.” You softly reply as Soojin gets to quickly re-touching your makeup. He nods understandingly and murmurs a low “Come up when you’re ready.” After he leaves, Soojin and Soyeon slowly turn to you with little smirks on their faces and brushes in their hands.

.

When you reach the balcony you come across Jungkook sprawled out on the sofa with both arms stretched out. He looks a hot mess with the way his tie is hazardously tossed to the side and his white button-up sits messily undone over his chest. “Seems like we’ve finally met.” He hums.

“Hello Mr Jeon,” you softly greet like the polite little thing you are. Your eyes flicker down to the gold cross hanging over his chest, not missing the way his eyes flashed when you said ‘Mr Jeon’. It’s nerve wracking looking into his eyes because Jungkook always held eye-contact and you hated how he made you cower in delight, “I thought I wasn’t allowed to be requested by patrons.”

Jungkook chuckles quietly and brings the cigar up to his lips taking a long drag from it, “Oh? And does that include me too sweetheart?” A pleasant little shiver runs down your spine when the pet name rolls off his tongue so smoothly. You find yourself craving for more.

“I don’t know,” you softly say while inching closer, you come to a stop in front of him, “does my boss consider himself to be included..?” You teasingly run your finger over his shoulder and slowly lower yourself on his thigh, “Does he?” Jungkook’s nostrils flare as he blows the smoke to the side, dropping the cigar on to the ashtray below.

“You wanna give me a dance, is that it sweetheart?” Jungkook drawls out lazily. His eyes inch downwards as he admires the pretty little “outfit” you got on. It reminds him of the little show you put on out there.

Your breath hitches when he grabs the hanging garter string between two fingers and twirls it around in his hold. “...is a dance what you want?” You reply breathily.

Jungkook lays his hand flat on your thigh and strokes over it slowly, idly rubbing his hand up and down over the soft skin. “You offering me more sweetheart?” He licks his lips, “You gonna be a good girl and put on a show like out there—give me a private show just for little ol’ me?” He leans closer to you with his hot breath fanning over your chin and lips.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, “ ‘s not fair.”

He grins and noses along your jawline towards your slender neck, “Not fair? How so sweet girl?” He whispers as his thumb rubs soothing circles on your inner thigh, “Hm?” He blows in your ear causing goosebumps to form all over your body.

You tilt your head to look at him, “Because, it’s my birthday.” Your eyes drop down to his lips as you unconsciously lick your own, “Aren’t you gonna wish me happy birthday?” You whisper.

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook looks up at you in amusement as he leans closer, “Happy birthday sweetheart.”

Jungkook gently slips his lips against yours, barely moving as he inched his hand upward between your thighs. You’re so lost in the taste of him as you let your thighs fall open invitingly, and your hands came up to rest over his shoulders. Jungkook grunts under his breath, he moves his lips sensually over yours causing wet smacking noises to fill the space between you two. You softly whine as your lips become glossy and kissed raw from Jungkook’s little bites and harsh kisses.

“Why don’t you lay back, hm? Gonna show you what birthday girls get from me,” he presses a chaste kiss to your neck as he slowly guides you on your back, “there you go, just like that baby—yea..spread ‘em for me.” He watches you in pure delight over how well you’re following his instructions.

You stare up at him with a dazed look, “Do you give every birthday girl this?” You purse your lips in annoyance just thinking about all the other girls who have probably been under him like this.

Jungkook toys with the strap of your bra, “No, just ones that like to tease me on stage.” He smirks as he hooks his finger under the middle of the bra, he tugs it downward until both tits spill out from the cups, “Will you look at that..” He murmurs appreciatively when he sees your pretty pebbled nipples, “I wonder if you’re pretty everywhere else too.”

Your lips part to say something but Jungkook leans down to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. You sigh quietly and enjoy the feeling of his wet hot tongue circling and licking over your nipple. He moves his other hand to your other tit and gently wraps his hand around the doughy flesh. Jungkook pulls away and leaves a small trail of spit over your hard nub, as he rolls and kneads your tit in his other hand.

A surprised little “oh!” escapes your lips when he dives down to suck on the other nipple. “Mm–wait,” you throw your head back when his other hand dips low between your thighs, pressing two fingers over your drenched pussy. He teases your clit through your panties as he presses the soaked material against your slicked up cunt.

He hums to himself and pulls away to trail kisses down the middle of your body. His other hand slides down your side until he’s resting it against your hip where the waistband of your panties sits. “Been dreaming bout this day n night sweetheart, you don’t even know how fuckin’ crazy you drive me.” He hooks two fingers under the waistband, “You make it so hard for a man sometimes, you got me fiending like a dog for you.” He growls.

You look down at him and slip your hands over his, “Then make me yours,” you breathily whisper, “ ‘s all yours,” you dreamily smile while hooking your thighs over his shoulders.

Jungkook all but tears your panties off with a loud riiip. He leaves open mouthed kisses trailing down until his mouth’s hovering over your pussy, he wastes no time in letting his tongue dip between your folds. He laps at your messy folds and lays his tongue flat against your clit as he flicks it back and forth teasingly. You quickly become a whimpering mess under him.

He uses his grip to bring your cunt closer to his face, his hands slip under your ass cheeks and he grips both cheeks in his palms. Your eyes flutter shut as you slip your hands into his hair, you wonder if anyone was watching right now. The balcony itself had a thick siding but the thought of them watching Jungkook and you sent delicious little tremors down your spine. “Mm–like that,” you whisper softly while lifting your hips more for him.

It feels like he’s making out with your pussy with the way he’s licking and sucking at your chubby folds, taking a lip into his mouth as he sucks on it teasingly before dipping back in to tease your clit. A choked up moan escapes when his tongue slips lower and pokes at your winking hole, “Please, please,” you tearfully whine, “want more.”

Jungkook leaves a gentle little smooch on your pussy before he goes back to business. His hot tongue slips right into you pushing past your tight rim. Your lips fall open in a small ‘o’ as you shudder, he’s flicking his tongue upwards against your g-spot repeatedly. You scramble to get a hold of him with your fingers tightening in his hair.

“Mmm,” you push his head against you and sigh when his nose accidentally bumps into your clit, “...daddy—” You cry out when the pleasure gets too much and you curl into yourself from the sensitivity.

Jungkook freezes under you, he pulls away and climbs over you with your legs falling from his shoulders. “What did you say?” His eyes narrow, they’re dark with hunger and lust. You look up at him through bleary eyes and giggle instead of answering. Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat, relishing in the moan that bubbles out of your throat, “Oh you like that don’t you baby?” He chuckles breathily, “Go on then, tell me what you just said now.” He squeezes gently and runs his thumb over your lips, it’s nothing too drastic but it serves as a reminder.

Your tongue darts out to run over your upper lip seductively, “Would you rather I called you sir? Or Mr Jeon?” You breathily giggle, “Does it turn you on laying me out here in the open for everyone to see?” You whisper as your lips wrap around his thumb, you suck with a low lewd moan.

Jungkook cusses under his breath, “Fuckin’ hell.. Nothing but a straight demon, look at you, jesus.” He bites his lip and pops his wet thumb out of your mouth, “They can look all they want but this pussy’s mine,” he cups your cunt with his free hand, “daddy’s gonna have you all dolled up with a little collar so people know who you belong to.” He smirks.

You mewl at the thought of him putting you in a collar as you eagerly paw at his slacks, “Please daddy,” you slur out, “ ‘m so wet for you. Aren’t you gonna be nice and give me what I want? Or do I have to find someone to do the job for you?” You grin deviously.

Jungkook’s cock is out within seconds after hearing that, he slaps the wet tip over your clit in soft taps. He listens to the wet squelching your cunt makes, it’s like music to his ears hearing how soaked you are. You let your legs slip open wider as he crowds you while slipping his cock between your folds. The tip catches on to your hole and prods at you, “Please,” you whine softly, “wan’ it in,” you buck your hips so more of his cock pops into you.

“Shit, relax for me baby.” He sighs as he slips his cock inch for inch slowly. His cock fits snug in your tight little cunt, you struggle a bit to house the rest of his cock inside of you but eventually he bottoms out with a small smack. “There you go,” he moans in bliss, “doin’ so good for me.”

You shudder at the praise and stare up at him with puppy eyes, “Don’t want it soft and nice daddy—want it fast n hard.” You hook your arms around his shoulders and bring him down for a sweet gentle peck, “You’ll give me what I want, right daddy?” You bat your lashes at him.

Jungkook groans shakily, “Fuck yes—I’ll give you everything you want baby.” He pumps his cock in and out of you, “Gonna have you dripping in diamonds.” He gasps as his hips roll forward with each time being a little more rougher than the last.

His movements cause you to lightly bounce in place under him, you can only moan and whimper as he drives his cock in and out of you. Your pussy hugs his cock tight when backstrokes making it a bit hard to fuck into you. He shoves his hand between the two of you and presses down on your clit with his thumb causing a loud cry to escape your lips.

“Harder..!” You rasp out and throw your head back. Jungkook wastes no time in diving in to bury his face between your shoulder and neck, leaving a mess of hickeys and love bites in his wake.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he gasps, “ ‘s like this slutty little pussy was made for me.” He fucks into your rougher and makes sure to press in deep each time he bottoms out.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, you dig your nails into his shoulder and curl your legs around his waist tightly. “S-So good,” you gasp. His fat cock fills you up just nicely and rubs up against every sensitive spot inside your cunt. You can feel every throb and vein on his cock as he fucks away mindlessly.

Jungkook tilts his face to messily slot his lips against your own, he slams his hips upwards rather harshly. Each punishing thrust leaves you shaking and mewling for more, you weakly hold on to him for dear life and try not loosen your grip on him. He takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites teasingly as a low whine escapes your lips.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you baby? Got myself a little painslut don’t I?” He purrs low while circling his hips and letting you feel every inch of his cock.

You hiss softly and hide your face in the soft cushioning of the couch, you’ve long blocked out the music in favor of focusing on two things: Jungkook and the wet noises your cunt made. You could feel dollops of slick run down your taint and between your ass cheeks. His cock was drenched in your wetness, everytime he pushed back in a loud squelch was followed shortly after.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum on this cock baby? Gonna make it nice n messy for me?” He huskily whispers, “C’mon baby, answer me.” He lightly slaps your cheek forcing you to look at him.

“Y-Yes,” you softly gasp, back arching when he strikes your g-spot repeatedly.

“Yes what?” He licks his lips.

“Yes daddy.” You whimper out. Jungkook captures your lips in a heated kiss and then proceeds to slam his cock in and out of your battered pussy.

You hug him tightly while messily kissing back as his cock slips in and out of your gaping cunt. He pulls out to the very tip before slamming back in and repeating the process over and over. Loud wet smacks are heard but you’re too cock drunk to see (or care) if anyone is looking. Before you even realize it, your cunt squeezes tightly around him and you cum with a loud cry. Your pussy absolutely gushes around him.

Jungkook groans low in his throat, he comes to a halt and simply grinds his cock into you. He feels more slick coat his cock until he’s covered in slick. He throbs at the sight of your trembling thighs and presses his cock in, letting his creamy cum fill your pussy up. You both slump into each other, he pants heavily and just lays there with his body covering your own.

“Got all night baby,” he murmurs in your ear while kissing the side of your head, “why don’t we get a little more comfortable in my bed, yeah?” He whispers.

You turn to press your lips to his, “Mmhm,” you pull away as a string of spit follows, “gonna give you a REAL show daddy.” You softly say.

Jungkook chuckles quietly, “I’m sure you are.”

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore

[oblique-lane]

"Just a bunch more biblical paintings then I'll go back to drawing yaoi" Or you can do both, renaissance style, Michelangelo or Raphael I honestly forgot who drew those naked men on the Sistine Chapel's ceilings ok bad joke aside: I'd love hearing more about your headcannons, specifically about the childhoods of the characters (ranging from the mercs, to Miss pauling, the Administrator, hell anyone you have ideas about!)

Childhood headcanons... How did you know I've had something about that on my mind? Alright, let's talk about...

Little Sniper

(Lots of trigger warnings ahead, check tags!)

Mundy was obviously an unhappy child. When I imagine the surroundings he grew up in, I see miles and miles of empty landscapes, dry yellow grass, unkept barns destroyed by rust and a deep choking sense of loneliness.

The closest neighbour woul be so far away you better bring a bicycle with you if you want to visit. School and Church were the only places to go, which were also very far away. No kids his age nearby. And even if there were peers at school, no one wanted him anyway.

Mundy was "weird", he didn't quite understand other kids' jokes, didn't get what was so fun about what everyone else enjoying to do; he was weaker, always loosing in close fights; he didn't even look very local for whatever reason. Even if he tried to get along with someone, it either ended up with him being ostracized or with him experiencing the greatest boredom imaginable. And the kids quickly picked up on his "difference", making him an object of bullying.

It started with making fun of everything Mundy does, his habits and speech patterns, his morals and ideas... Which wasn't anything too big for him but it was still very annoying and upsetting, he grew to hate school very quickly.

Coming home being exhausted from this kind of socializing, no one would really comfort him. Being very little, he used to tell on his bullies to his parents, telling how hurt he was by their words... And it would only made a mess in his family.

Overreactive mother: "Poor baby, I'm so sorry, I'll tell their parents to stop being mean, my little little baby, maybe we can go homeschooling..."

And a strict father: "Are you a man or what? Yeah, he will end up a bloody baby if you keep spoiling him like that! Suck it up! Of you can't stand for yourself, no one will. At this pace you'll end up a nobody, with no home nor respect from the world".

Mundy didn't want to be neither a baby nor a disappointment. He figured that sharing his feelings with parents wouldn't be that good of an idea, they won't understand anyway. And also that he must fight somehow.

If he can't win in close fights, he thought, he could hit them from a distance: throwing small rocks at the bullies from up the tree...

–He was punished for that. For some reason, every time Mundy fought back, he was scolded by the elders, who for some reason always believed the bullies that HE was the one starting the fights. They forbid him to fight back. He closed his feelings shut and stopped paying attention to almost everything around him.

Why was it like that? Why was he so different from other kids, why couldn't he understand them? Why couldn't he understand anyone in this world? The world was a mess of unspoken rules and suffering, overcoming oneself, pain; he couldn't fit in. He was always on the wrong even if he didn't do anything. He felt like an outsider everywhere he went.

Sometimes he wondered if he was born into a wrong family or that he wasn't a human at all. Looking at the night sky, he was thinking about aliens, maybe they would come to him someday and take him to the planet he truly belongs, being accidentally swapped at birth. Maybe then he will be happy, he will leave this sickening place and finally start living. He thought about dying, too.

He started to spend a lot of time in the forest any chance he got. He was alone here, unwatched, somewhat free. It was easier to breathe here. He was alone but it didn't feel worse than being with those people. He played by himself. He started to believe that he actually liked loneliness.

As Mundy and his peers grew older, the kids started to become more and more savage, thanks to the hormones and age crisis. Bullying intensified as those kids started to feel the need to assert themselves. Mundy was maliciously beaten (he fought back as much as he could and even win sometimes, but the beating only got worse each time). They used any chance to humiliate him.

And each time after that Mundy would take the knife or his father's shotgun and go to the forest to take his anger on animals, "hunting", since he couldn't do anything to fix the root of the problem.

He would hunt for something small, like birds or feral rabbits so he could butcher them and cook on fire to eat. At moments like this he felt like a beast, and somehow it was the most pleasant state for him to be in.

There were no words available to form his pain into, so the pain came through violence. The more violent his abusers became, the more violent he was at his "hunting". The more he felt his father's gaze piercing him with disappointment, the sharper his knife movements would get. Sometimes he would let the bodies to just rot like that, completely butchered in a very non-culinary way.

(Maybe someday he would lure one of those bastards to the forest and kill him the same way and blame it on an animal attack)

And at some point... His classmates would came up with something that would cross all the lines of forgivable. Somewhere there was the peak of what they could do. Something beyond.

There wasn't a known way to him to deal with that. No known words. Everyone would be so grossed out of him if they knew. He was beyond disgusted with himself, too. What was the point of living now?

That day he would shot a wild boar, take his machete out and cut it open, butcher it the way his father would when they wanted a pork dinner for the night... And reached to its heart.

The heart is where the love is stored, right? That's what people say when referring to this "love" he'd never seem to know. A dark read bloody organ that feels like sponge inside of thin rubber. There's something about this that Mundy lacks. He has a heart too, it's pulsating inside him, but for some reason it was unable to produce the "love", a very necessary fluid for a human body. He wondered if it's sweet. He wondered if he was even able to taste it.

He took a bite... And realized what he was doing.

He was, indeed, a monster.

When he went back home, later than usual, he would be met with his father's gaze. He was always throwing gazes, for every occasion, Mundy was used to feel small and guilty under them. But this time... It felt somehow much more personal. More disturbing.

His father looked at him as if he was a dirty little creature, a rat, a maggot. He looked at him the way one would look at a criminal who wronged their whole family. He looked at him like he knew.

His father didn't say anything that day and it wasn't brought up ever again.

Mundy was indeed a monster who was utterly terrified of this though. He didn't want to be one. He made a promise to himself that everything he does will be morally justified, he promised himself to become a good... decent person. He would earn his place in the world, even if his father, everyone else denies it.

It gets blurry at this point. Sniper doesn't really remember his life before about 17, when he was finishing school and starting to work on his sniper licence. For some reason he always knew he would be good at shooting and killing. When remembering his home, Sniper would recall the smell of grass, mother's cooking, the warm sun, and a steady life he had. He knew it was boring, but it still somehow felt like home. Home he felt was lost somewhere he didn't remember.

Either way, he was always a loner.

[yallthemwitches]

Some James (and Potter family) Headcanon

Because I always seem to fixate on Lily hc and he needs some love:

---James didn't really chase after Lily because she was pretty, intelligent, and cheeky (though those helped) but rather because she was a challenge for him. Not in the sense that she said no for years and he loved the chase, but because Lily as a person really expanded his worldview. Due to his extremely coddled upbringing and lush life due to his blood status/ quidditch ability, James always gravitated to people that made his life more difficult in an enriching way: Sirius was the first person to ever "hit back" with his own antics and not shy away from taking the piss out of him, Remus had a troubled life completely foreign to James that provided lots of apparent troubles but also made James see bravery in a new light, and Peter made him a mentor figure who saw merit even in meekness. Lily came from a different background from him and despite having a temper was highly rational and never reactionary even when faced with discrimination. Despite growing up in one of the hardest times to be a muggleborn, she overcame it. She found meaning and joy in even the darkest places ( her friendship with Snape being the most difficult of examples to understand.) and made James better because she didn't resign to looking at the world like he did, but rather sharpened his vision of it.

--Of all the many muggle movies Lily showed James, his absolute favorite was Harold and Maude ( Hal Ashby 1971). It was the first time he had ever seen a depiction of mortality really laid out in front of him and it was the first time Lily ever saw him cry.

--Nothing made James more angry than when Lily would be harassed for her blood status and the fact that she was dating him. This feeling was often left unresolved as Lily refused to let him retaliate, saying it was stooping to their level to fight back.

---While also having just natural unruly hair, James like keeping his hair unkept because it was an act of rebellion from his parents who acquired the family fortune on hair taming products. He felt like it brought a sense of irony to the household.

---I feel like this one MUST be canon: James hated Snape for a lot of reasons but I think the biggest was that he was so close to Lily for so long and James was never so lucky. Then, once Snape started to be into dark magic it was all the more reason to detest him.

--I know everyone loves Fleamont, but I am always partial to thinking about Euphemia Potter because there is so little known about her. I like to think she was a very eccentric and worldly person who gave her interest in muggle things to her son. I have this image of her listening to 1960s muggle zamrock around the house ( artists like WITCH and Amanaz---60s trippiness meets African traditional music). For a while I had this headcanon that she worked directly with the Statue of Secrecy Department ( hence why she met the Potters' in the first place due to Henry Potter's influence) so she was very up to date on the very thin line squibs and muggles would walk into either finding or revealing the wizarding world (like how hilarious would it be if someone like Alejandro Jodowosky or David Lynch was a squib and Euphemia was their case worker and had to call them up and be like "Cutie, you are giving away too much, take it down a notch" so they don't accidentally reveal wizard secrets.) For this reason her and Lily got along really well.

--James really loved to read! Everyone always makes James this jock, prankster bad boy but the kid was super smart ( I mean he became an animangus and made the marauders map--its literally canon). He had loads of books on Transfiguration and mostly read nonfiction, but Lily got him to read more fiction and muggle works once they got together. He was more practical about his reading though and was not very interested in the more existential topics that Sirius would often carry around.

--When he found out Lily was pregnant he quit the order on the spot. No questions asked. Lily was annoyed by this for a while. He pulled them out of missions before she had even finished her first trimester and even so she felt like he would have been much more helpful out on the field then playing house with her at home (especially when she wasn't even showing yet). Lily even wanted to keep doing missions until she was farther in her pregnancy, but James was beside himself about the idea of her continuing to be in danger while pregnant. It was one of the biggest fights they ever had and ended with James crying, which immediately broke Lily down.

(Art source @blvnk-art )

[hijackalx]

*SOME DURGE QUEST SPOILERS*

***NONCON AND DRUG USE MENTIONS***

GORTASH SFW HEADCANONS:

ok to start i think when he was a prisoner his hair got rlly long and unkept and he hateddd it so the minute he escaped he chopped that shit off himself and thats why its so unruly lol (*EDIT he always cuts his own hair is what im sayin)

this man is such a taurus like everything about him screams taurus. has a taurus stellium fosho

would listen to superheaven

hes also sooo jenny by studio killers, disco man by remi wolf, happiness by the 1975 coded with Durge 😩😩

with durge hes also giving bf that ur dad hates but like thats canon. i think he likes that hes able to influence durge to the point that they rebel lol. the type of boy u run away with when ur younger

probably BLASTED jet black heart by 5SOS on repeat when Durge disappeared LMFAOO

also i kind of feel like the fearless buff to his clothing is more an insight to his character rather than him needing magic to not be fearful bcz he literally got the shit beat out of him everyday and lived in HELL how can he not be desensitized to everything at that point 😭😭😭 it does not get much worse than that my boy

hes so thique like hes just a big boned dude. tiddies SO fat too EUGH + thick shoulders/arms. he feels so warm and safe i just know it i just KNOW it gurl

also idk if it was supposed to happen but in my latest playthrough during the fight with him he dropped his bow and just started beating the shit out of us 😭😭😭😭 all hands baby like WHAT 😭😭 so i like to think thats his preferred method of fighting idk if thats canon tho i feel like i seen somebody talking abt that before but mightve just been another hc

occasionally does drugs. likes the ones that make him feel really elated (idk what theyre called in bg3 its some kind of dust or something) ALSO HC THAT HE WAS ON SOMETHING WHEN HE WROTE RHAT FUCKED UP NOTE TO FRANC (WAS THAG HIS NAME U GUYS KNOW THE NOTE) HE WAS OBVIOJSLY TRIPPING BALLSSSSS

lots of body hair…… everywhere……. straight and black body hair. that is so sexy to me let me smell the pheromones in your armpits king LMFAO (i think theres something wrong with me)

going off of rhat yes i think he smells good (DIVINE, even) as a woman that is feral and in heat all the time. but to normal ppl he may smell kind of weird. not STINKY stinky but like when u dont shower and ur natural scent starts to mix with the perfume/cologne ur wearing SORRY 😭😭😭 im trying to be realistic here. or maybe like when u wake up and didnt shower the night before and u can still smell the perfume/cologne u put on yesterday. basically what im saying is he might need to shower

hes just so masculine it drives me crazy I LOVE MEN !!!!!!!!!! I LOVE EEENERM. ME E WN

love language:

giving = lowkey getting acts of service vibes here but u didnt hear it from me 🤫🤐 gift giving too. tav is just his widdle babie and he wants to make sure theyre the happiest they can be 🥺😩

receiving = acts of service LMAO give and get back type of shit

relationship wise i think he is the most doting and sweetest person. like tav will never have to worry abt anything ever again bcz he will handle everything. takes care of them cuz they are his king/queen 😌

GORTASH NSFW HEADCANONS:

yeah going off that last hc he is sweet outside the bedroom but a menace in it. its just the way he is. its probably exhausting too 😩 like if u ask him to be gentler/less intense he will try for a while but probably wont enjoy it as much. he doesnt like to hold back.

i WILL say tho ☝🏻🤨 i think when he gets close to finishing he gets a little more soft/loving. he just has to get his badness out first yall its fine

HIGH libido wants to smash all the time. he also (POSSIBLE NONCON MENTION !!!!!!!) thinks that since ur his u should be willing to give it up whenever he wants it. (NONCON MENTION OVER) i think in the bedroom he sees u as a servant even if ur considered his equal normally. like hes a chosen of bane he has to feel like he has control over u in SOME way

can be selfish depending on his mood. sometimes he doesnt see u as anything other than a toy (lowkey hard for me to admit but i NEVA LIE GIRLS !!!!! 🙅🙅🙅) like can be such a fucking asshole about it too

BUT !!! when he is feeling generous he is soooo generous. EUGH like he will make sure u enjoy urself!!!! probably multiple times !!!!!!!!!!!!

dont know why nobody else has said he has a daddy kink. so obvious like call him daddy ms thing he will nut so hard. oh corruption kink too. like can u imagine Durge being so innocent when they first met cuz they were never allowed to get close to anybody and hes just sooo into it HELLO i got to write that fic NEOW

omg breeding kink too give him heirs. will fuck the shitttt out of u in a mating press. probably comes a lot too almost impossible not to get pregnant with him LMAO

likes to pick u up and fuck u. manhandling king. also will do the faerun equivalent to coke and wants u to do it w him then fuck nasty afterwards

i feel like he doesnt last an extremely long time. 15-20 mins is THE MOST youre getting out of him lol he just gets very excited (which is lowkey kind of cute??)

do i even have to say that this man is packing schmeat. heavy dick. heavy balls. allow me to bear some of that weight for u my liege 🤲🏻🧎

ORIN BONUS ????:

mostly nsfw

ok i didnt originally plan to add orin but listen….. gortash is a charismatic guy….. imagine orin was into him too LISTEN ! like shes jealous asf of Durge in that sense too not just bcz of them being bhaal’s fav. like when i think abt them i just am getting a vibe okay. this trio……..

every time she sees gortash and Durge acting close and doing all their yucky lovesick shit she just gets soooo mad. now imagine she shifts into Durge to get gortash to fuck her. yeah… yall seeing the vision? would he ever find out ?? imagine that was why he hates orin so much?? he doesnt want to tell Durge (cuz thats cheating hes not a cheater duh 🙄 plus hes scared theyll be mad at him) and thats why his explanations as to why he hates orin are so vague

[3zethe3zr]

STP Voices preening headcanons

These are mostly based off of my designs for the voices (silly little anthropomorphic corvids - each a different species with a different accessory) But i thought they were too fun not to share :]

Now, in some particular order:

Takes absolute shit care of themselves and their feathers:

Broken (Collared Crow)- I feel like this one is self-explanatory. Its Broken. His feathers are fifty shades of fucked up and hes trapped in too much self loathing to ever consider preening, social or not. The manacles have damaged his wing feathers to the point that even without the chains, he cannot fly. Cold (Common Raven)- Feeling nothing does not mean they experience any discomfort when unkempt and sees self maintenance as wholly boring. Is absolutely rank. Also considers social preening an absolute waste of time, is lucky to have Hunted as a bestie Cheated (Chough)- Never gets in horrid enough condition that Broken and Cold do, but somehow manages to be worse. Does not see the point in self maintenance when his feathers are just going to get fucked up in the future, but the second he feels he's too unkempt he will start complaining. Doesn't enjoy social preening either, so the others have to force him at metaphorical gunpoint, and he whines the entire time

Takes insanely good care of their feathers:

Opportunist (Eurasian Magpie)- First impressions matter! He is always ridiculously well put together and shiny. Wants the connections social preening could give (and maybe a friend), so tries to initiate it frequently. Often the one badgering Cheated to take care of himself by appealing to Cheateds' better nature. Cheated does not have a better nature. Hunted (Malayan Black Magpie)- Well maintained feathers have a fuck ton of benefits for a Weird Fucked Up Prey Creature so Hunted is insanely diligent about making sure every feather is in order, and gets cagey and on edge when this is not the case. Social Preening is its primary way of bonding and it greatly enjoys it. The one keeping Colds feathers from getting too nasty.

Perfectly average preening habits, nothing to write home about:

Hero (Carrion Crow)- Tries his best but often ends up a little scruffed up around the edges Skeptic (Taiwan Blue Magpie)- Normally keeps themselves very presentable, you can tell when their mind is occupied as they get unkept very quickly Contrarian (Steller's Jay)- Always looks perfect without having to try at all. Everyone else hates this.

Would have good care of their feathers BUT:

Paranoid (Rook)- Anxiety is a double-edged sword, he takes very good care of his feathers due to it, but can also over-preen and has a few bald patches. His gloves bend his wing feathers out of shape and that only stresses him out more. Does not trust any of the others to preen him. Smitten (Blue Jay)- His feathers are ridiculously well groomed, and he cares about looking good. However, he does not take that helmet off ever, and nobody else is allowed to take that helmet off- so his facial & head feathers are as fucked up, bent and grimy as Broken and Colds. Perhaps even worse. Outside of the helmet thing, he delights in social preening. Stubborn (Jackdaw)- Being in good condition means he can fight for longer, so preening is a worthwhile investment to make. Post fight, you're going to need a fucking construction crew to put him and all his feathers back into place. Doesnt enjoy social preening and gets fidgety and bored fast.

[typingcorgi]

unexpected (part i of a two-part series)

rating: e (minors, please shoo. you will be blocked) word count: 1.7k+ pairing: joel miller x f!reader warnings: pre-outbreak timeline, canon divergent timeline, hint of vague age difference (if he's 36 I'm thinking like the reader is 5-10 years younger but honestly insert whatever age you want), tipsy sex, fingering, creampie, protected p in v sex (yay for responsible joel), praise kink makes brain go brrr, porn with plot, quasi-public sex, soft-ish!joel, no use of y/n story summary: a one-night stand with a handsome stranger doesn't go as planned. chapter summary: you and joel meet at a bar and fuck in the bathroom. author's notes: no apocalypse, yay! this is part one of a multi-part series. excited to get this new ball rolling. this is just going to be a fun romp away from the mushroom zombies, okay? have fun getting yours ;) and as always, please feel free to reblog or leave a comment! your feedback is so very appreciated.

“I don’t normally do this.”

You admit it through a panting breath, during the one rare moments in which this perfect stranger isn’t capturing your lips against his. In a languid motion, he turns the lock of the door behind your head, ensuring your stolen moment won’t be sorely interrupted.

You’re not so drunk that you don’t remember his name: Joel. Of course, he hadn’t shared his daughter’s name, but just hearing that he had one to take care of at home—and she seemed reasonably responsible, attesting to her father’s clear grip on parenthood—caused something to stir beneath your navel.

“That makes two of us,” he rumbles against the shell of your ear. His fingers press against the flesh of your hips, and he adjusts his stance so that one of his feet stands between either of yours. He hitches up his knee against the locked door, encouraging you to ride it if you want to.

And holy fuck, you want to.

You’d met the guy at the bar a couple of hours ago. He’d been moving past you and nearly spilled your drink right out of your hand. He apologized profusely and chalked it up to not having been thrown into Austin nightlife in a while, but then he also mentioned he got nervous around pretty women, and you were sort of a goner.

You didn’t want to show your hand so readily, though. “Uh-huh,” you nodded, arching a brow. “How many girls have you tried that line on tonight?”

“None,” he shouted over the thrumming guitar of some country band playing over the bar speakers. “Just you. I’ve been out of the game for so long, I figured I’d try my luck. How’d I do?”

He was grinning, the smile beneath an unkept and patchy beard wide and almost cheeky, meeting the edges of his tired eyes. You couldn’t fight him on his charm, but you’d challenge him on being a good conversationalist.

He bought you your next drink. He told you his name: Joel, and that damn knucklehead over there that I came with is named Tommy. Joel explained his situation: his brother tricked him into enjoying a rare guys’ night out. He worked like a dog all damn week, and the week before that, and the one before that, too. And even though his preferred Saturday nights comprised of passing out to late-night Simpsons reruns, his daughter had been babysitting a neighbor’s kid before heading off to a sleepover with her friends. It seemed as though a night out had fallen into his lap, and he wouldn’t have heard the end of it from Tommy had he passed on such a perfect opportunity.

You people watch together, guessing what conversations were shared between the obvious first-daters or commiserating coworkers. You’d started out the night as one of them: two of your friends from work joined you for dinner and drinks, but once they’d realized your attention was occupied elsewhere, they gracefully whispered their goodbyes into your ear as they headed out for the evening.

“Who’re they?” Joel asked over the edge of his Corona bottle.

“My colleagues,” you said. “Friends. We got dinner next door earlier tonight at that little Italian place.”

Joel hummed as he took a swig of his beer. “Yeah, and what is it the three of you do? You supermodels or somethin’?”

You tried not to giggle at the obvious line. “No, we’re teachers. I teach English. High school.”

Joel gave an appreciative whistle. “God bless you,” he commented, shaking his head. “Never had the patience for kids to deal with them in mass numbers. Thank god mine is a good one, otherwise, I’d be in real trouble.”

It wasn’t one singular moment that called on you to beckon Joel into the single ladies' bathroom at twelve-thirty in the morning, but instead a compilation of smaller ones. It was the way he caught eye contact with you once or twice when he thought you weren’t looking. It was the way his flirting caught you off guard, because he didn’t strike you as a player, a serial dater, but fuck, he was good at keeping your attention. It was the way he continued to ask you about your career, and if you liked it, and what you liked about it. It was the way he asked you what you did for fun, and if you ever got your thrill from kissing older guys in crowded bars. It was the way he kissed you when you said you didn’t.

“Come with me,” you cooed into his ear, tugging the shirt collar of his plaid button-down. He was helpless.

And now you’re here, beneath the dim lighting of this bar’s bathroom. Joel’s tongue sweeps against yours as you ride his thigh. You revel in the friction of your panties against your clit, the path of his free hand, sliding up the hem of your dress before kneading the meat of your ass. He moans against your lips, removing them from yours if only to catch his breath and praise you for being such a goddamn good girl.

He calls you that and you nearly melt. He calls you that and you wonder where in the hell he learned game like that, if what he says is true; he’s been out of the game for quite some time.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he drawls. The hand massaging your ass now slides toward your front, slipping beneath your underwear. Two thick fingers tease your entrance, and while you’d normally feel a little pathetic for getting so wet for a perfect stranger so damn fast, Joel doesn’t seem to mind at all. He groans as he slips one finger in, curling and releasing it against your walls while your hips begin to buck in time with his motions.

Joel chuckles darkly at your obvious enthusiasm. “That’s right. You like that? You like ridin’ my hand underneath this pretty dress?”

You groan a yes as slips a second finger into you, and you’re damn near ready to come, but as you feel your upward crest begin to settle beneath your skin, Joel retreats.

“Wh—what are you doing?” You ask, chasing his kiss while your hand finds his wrist. “No, you need to keep going, keep go—”

“Greedy,” Joel hums, the smile on his face one of unbridled satisfaction. “Yeah, I will, but unfortunately for us, we don’t exactly have the luxury of time.”

You notice him palm the back pocket of his raw denim, pulling out a worn leather wallet. And from there, you want to laugh at him for still being the sort of man that carries condoms around in his wallet, as if sex could happen at any of life’s junctures, but instead, you silently thank god that he has one, because you don’t, and holy fucking shit, you need him to fill you up right now.

The drinks you’ve had in his presence give you an unusual sort of confidence. You normally wouldn’t be the type of woman to ask a guy to fuck you in a public bathroom, nor are you the type to get your fingers on his belt buckle and help him slide his jeans down his legs. You aren’t the type to hold onto the edge of the bathroom sink while the guy at the bar fucks you from behind, filling you up to near pain, causing tears to form along the corners of your eyes.

“Holy—holy shit, Joel,” you pant. “You’re s—so, so fucking—”

“Take it,” Joel grunts, his pace punishing, sweat forming along his furrowed brow. “I wanna see the way you look when you’re freshly fucked.”

You gasp, careful not to give away your delicate position to anyone who might be waiting outside the locked door (although the music is so damn loud, you’re fairly confident they’d be none the wiser).

He collects your hair in a gentle fist, planting a kiss against the hot skin of your neck. Your fingertips are bone-white from their grip on the edge of the sink, and Joel continues to fuck into you, steady and sure with every thrust that he makes to the hilt.

Your vision damn near blurs when your walls clench. It’s enough of a signal for Joel to move a little faster, bring you to your climax sooner because he can’t get enough of your body, and he can’t fathom you leaving this little space without you singing his name.

“J—Joel,” you stammer. “I’m gonna—”

“Me too,” he interrupts you, and you know it through the nearly pained tone that falls from his lips. His fingers on your hips draw tight, pressing each digit into your flesh as he groans into the back of your shoulder, meeting his own edge.

And then, in the midst of the comedown, in between his heavy breaths beneath his broad chest, Joel retreats from his goddamn spectacular space inside of you. Joel retreats, and turns you around, and kisses you.

“Fuck, that was hot,” he admits, clammy forehead pressed along yours. “I don’t—I don’t mean to presume or anythin’ like that, but—could I see you again? Another night?”

You’re shocked.

You’re fucking shocked.

This had all of the makings of a one-night stand: two strangers drunkenly crossing paths on a busy Saturday night, they meet, they flirt, they fuck, they go home. Why the hell would Joel want to see you again? Sex, obviously. Sure. But couldn’t he do this again with another nameless woman, another pretty face he meets in a different bar on Main Street?

Your surprise must be evident because Joel quickly backpedals. “Forget it,” he says, suddenly sheepish. “Was a risk, I know. This was probably just a one-off for you, too, I get it. I just—”

You’d interrupt him with words, but kissing him is so much hotter.

“You’re thinking too much,” you whisper with a sincere smile. It’s only then you give yourself a minute to straighten yourself up, pulling your panties back over your hipbones and turning to unzip the tote bag you’d discarded onto the tile floor earlier.

Of course you come prepared. Of course you have a pen. You grab a paper towel from the stack resting at the edge of the counter, scribbling your phone number in crisp purple ink.

“Call me the next time you’re looking for a night out,” you say, offering up the napkin to him. And holy fucking shit, you feel so fucking cool, because this doesn’t happen in real life. Women like you don’t meet hot strangers in dimly lit bars and let them fuck you in the bathroom.

Except, now you do. Joel’s smile is awkward and shy when you kiss him on the cheek right before you leave.

[iyamaggies-blog]

Paralysis

Some Sasori smut yall! I still haven’t finished shippuden but I’m much closer! I started writing this when I first started shippuden and just finished it now so sorry if it starts off stronger than it ends 😅

“You look pathetic.” Sasori sneered as he looked down at the woman before him. Your eyes met his, shimmering with defiance and unkept anticipation despite your vulnerable position. Kneeling on the floor in front of him you wear nothing but his akatsuki cloak open to reveal your naked front to him. “It’s beautiful.” He murmurs opening up the chamber on his abdomen and allowing the thick cable cord and stinger to slither out

“You think I’m beauti-ful?” You taunt, voice catching at the sensation of his cool metal stinger dragging against your wet cunt followed by thick taut cable.

“I think you’re mouthy.” He retorts as he continues to drag the thick cord between your sensitive folds. The cord begins coiling around your body applying firm pressure while coiling up your torso, trapping your arms, and inching up to gently constrict your neck until that impressive venomous stinger lingers outside your lips expectantly.

“Open” he commands. You hesitate, keeping your lips closed and attempting to tilt your head away slightly only to feel the pressure around your neck and torso tighten. Like prey caught by a deadly constrictor. “You don’t want to keep me waiting.” He reminds you. Sasori was infamous for his impatience…… You open your mouth and that formidable stinger pushes past your lips to press down on your tounge. Your panicked eyes dart up to his when sour liquid pours out of its tip, overflowing your mouth and dripping down your chin. “It won’t kill you.” He clarifies.

“Although this is exactly how I’d pose your

puppet. Capturing your filthy desperation forever.” He smirks. You begin to grind down on the coil between your legs desperately seeking frictions until he suddenly retracts his cord completely. The shock of the sudden loss has you tumbling on to your back, body suddenly feeling heavy. “Sasori…what’s..?” You attempt to question, but your words are clumsy and slurred.

“A special poison I made just for occasions like this. I don’t want your squirming to interfere with my work.” Smirking he kicks your legs further open and peers down from directly above you. He wastes little time attaching sturdy strings of chakra to your arms puppeteering your hands slowly down your chest to pull and tug at your own nipples. The progressively rougher attention causes you to gasp and pant. “Hush.” He manipulates a hand back to your face shoving your own fingers in your mouth to silence you while your other slides down your body to your pussy “let’s have a look at you.” He mumurs. His expert puppeteering has you spreading the lips of your sex, legs wide and knees bent, fully displaying yourself for him. The position is vulnerable and humiliating in a way that makes your whole body spark with arousal. His stare is lidded and unwavering while he towers over you in a heavy but comfortable silence. Laying there unable to move your limbs you bask in his undived attention. Sasori always had a way of making you feel special. Particular, picky and precise he is quick to change or adjust any preceived defects or flaws, but right now in this drawn out moment he stands there unmoving looking at you in pure adoration. A small

smile tugs his features before he briefly abandons you. Stepping over you and out of your range of vision. You can hear rustling at his workbench before his footsteps

return. Chakra strings removed, but unable to fight off the poison’s paralysis, your body remains frozen just how he left you. He now stands at your shoulders, directly above you. Gaze towards the ceiling you make eye contact with the lenses of a camera as he begins snapping photos. After one or two clicks of the camera he walks back around to stand between your thighs. A couple more photos before he kneels down and begins adjusting you. He pulls your now drool soaked fingers out of your mouth, a trail of spit follows coating the outside of your mouth as he lays your hand gently beside your head. he snaps another photo, a portrait of your face, before gently wiping your lips clean with his fingers. He leans in and gives you a chaste kiss but remains hovering above you while his fingers gently caress your jaw line. The two of you stay like that for a moment, his mouth inches from yours when he whispers “You’re so beautiful like this…”

He pulls away to shift his attentions downwards. Sitting between your thighs he gently sets the camera down. Pulling a small bottle of lube from his pocket he generously pours the contents over your spread cunt. Not that you need it with how drenched you feel. You hiss at how cold it feels against your flushed skin.

His fingers spread the lube around the outside of your cunt before pushing the tips of his two fingers just past your entrance. He slides his fingers in and out of you just up to his second knuckle, the pleasure

Is instant and electrifying but you want more you need more! Your body still feels heavy but you manage the slightest buck of your hips making him chuckle. He continues his teasing ministrations as he speaks. “Desperate thing aren’t you? Your body stricken with paralysis but you still find the strength to beg for my touch.” He plunges his fingers deep inside of you in slow calculated thrusts his other hand lays on top yours as you keep yourself spread and he uses his thumb to play with your clit. You cry out at the onslaught of pleasure but his eyes stay glued to his work. His thumb draws quick tight circles over you clit while each purposeful stroke of his fingers brushes against that sweet spot inside of you. All you can do is lay there and mewl while Sasoris expert fingers push you closer and closer to ecstasy. Sasori was generous with your pleasure. As a man who valued efficiency he reveled in how quickly and thoroughly he could break you. You cry loudly as your orgasm hits you. Sasori doesn’t give you a moment before he’s moving you again, knocking your hand away from your spread sex and sliding your one leg onto his shoulder as he leans forward to hover over you. Both of your arms lay limp beside your head as you gasp and whimper from the excitement. “Be quiet your disturbing my work!” He barks at you with a harsh smack to your thigh.

You hear a wet squelch when his fingers reenter you. His pace is much faster this time. Truly bullying you onto the edge of another fast approaching release.

You wail and squirm around his fingers when your pleasure finally peaks. Your movement weak and subdued as you soak his hand. He repositions you much gentler this time turning you to lay face down on the ground and lifting your lower half to stand propped on your knees. He tosses the end of the cloak over your hips to keep you exposed and lingers behind you for just a moment. Softly stroking your skin he gently spreads your ass cheeks apart to examine the mess he’s made of you before standing. It’s hard to see what he’s doing with the way your face is pressed against the floor but then you hear the familiar sound of his camera

Click

“Moments like this will be different when I finally get to turn you. Your puppet body won’t be as sensitive. But we can always look back at these together”

Click

“the perfect image of this intament moment forever.”

Click

“Everlasting beauty.”

[s4turns-st4rs]

street fighting years

🎧 ﹐ ♡﹒a curtis biddick oneshot ﹒ ᶻ ᶻ

𝐚/𝐧: in denial abt episode 3 so here we are. thinking of a harry crosby or a john egan one too? idk we’ll see. anyway enjoy lovelies xxx

requests are open ‼️

in which: curtis is a winner, every single time.

words: 0.65k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: brief mentions of blood and bruises, swearing

𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: nothing matters - the last dinner party

the moon was the only source of light in the sky, and it shone across the houses, reflecting across the mostly empty road.

the base was holding another of their infamous parties, but tonight, the majority was gathered outside. they had formed a makeshift boxing ring, surrounding two soldiers. one of which was a british RAF soldier. the other, was a certain curtis biddick, the american lieutenant who had been flirting with you all evening.

with a wink, he tossed you his jacket.

“curtis, i don’t think—” you began, but he interrupted you immediately.

“don’t worry ‘bout me, darlin’.” he said simply, brushing off your concern with ease. “just sit back and enjoy the show.”

you frowned a little at his lack of self preservation, but you bit your tongue. for a second, anyway.

“curtis, you’re only going to come out of this injured and in pain, you know.”

“don’t be such a worrywart, its nothing.” he said as he dodged the british soldier’s first punch.

“i’m not a worrywart. i’m just trying to make sure you don’t knock yourself out. for no reason.” you said with a worried frown, crossing your arms, holding his jacket close to you. it smelt like him. like musk, smoke, and plane fuel.

“i think you just have a crush on me.” he giggled as he threw a punch at the british soldier, hitting him square in his chin. the soldier stumbled back with a groan, and in his brief moment of safety, he grinned at you, and sent you another wink.

“i don’t have a crush on— what are you, ten?” you sighed, clearly exasperated by his immature nature, if not a little charmed, although you were unlikely to admit it.

“a 10/10, yeah.” curtis said with a smug smile. only seconds after, the smirk is wiped off his face as the british soldier’s fist slammed straight into his nose.

curtis stumbled back, a slow stream of blood immediately trickled down his cupid’s bow. using all your self control, you didn’t move. he could handle this. hopefully, anyway.

he rebalanced himself, landing a punch on the british soldier’s right cheek, and sent you a wink with a cheeky smile.

“told you i could do this, darlin’.”

you don’t respond, ignoring the butterflies the nickname still gives you. he sensed your skepticism, so he smirked at you again.

“c’mon, there’s nothing to—shit!” just as he starts to reassure you, the british soldier punched him in the chin, busting his lip. curtis managed to keep his balance, as he ran a hand through his unkept hair.

a few more punches are thrown, and curtis hits the final blow to the brit’s stomach. he doubles over, signalling his defeat.

depsite curtis’ injuries, he grinned widely.

“i told ya i’d win!” he picked you up in his arms, spinning you around in celebration, as the rest of the american spectators cheered.

you rolled your eyes, but with a smile, as he placed you back down on the ground, but holding you close, clearly not planning to let go anytime soon.

“i could kiss you, you know.” he said, lowering his volume slightly.

“don’t.” you said, quietening to match his volume. “you’ve got blood all over your face.”

he frowned with a mock glare. “have you no romance?”

“just basic common sense.”

curtis rolled his eyes, but he loved it. he loved your smartass comments. he loved you.

slowly, the crowd dispersed, footsteps and exclamations echoing in the otherwise dull nighttime streets, money from bets changing hands, and men clapping curtis on the back with patriotic cheers.

despite the blood on his face, and your common sense, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. immediately, a blush spread across his face, contrast against his bright, shining eyes, and dark bruises already forming on his cheeks.

“c’mon dork, you’ve got some bruises just begging to be patched up.” you said with a little smile.

[ameagrice]

Genesis

chapter two

summary: a grand plan your best friend devises turns on its head, leading the both of you to serious danger.

For as long as you could remember, all there was, was FEDRA.

And for as long as you could remember, there was Rudy Wilson. A funny boy with a mop of copper hair, always unkept and knotted, and despite his habit to get in trouble every other day at school, he was happy, and he was your best friend. You always had (and supposed you always would) do everything together, even if it got you into trouble.

Which, unfortunately for you, happened quite a lot.

“How many times do I have to tell you?l Fields sighed exhaustedly, tapping his hand on his desk at every word. “Do not follow in that boy’s footsteps. You’re digging your own grave.”

You blink up at the ceiling, and then out of the window, behind Lieutenant Fields and his mop of curly hair. He was fairly young, and fairly fond of you—something you weren’t sure you should be happy about. Extra attention never had been a priority.

His muffled words came into full focus when he snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Are you listening to me right now?”

You snapped, face fierce. “Yes. And I don’t need a lecture.”

“Who would you rather? Me, or the old hag down the hall?” He leaned forward, and you caught the green in his eyes.

You didn’t answer him directly. “Come on. I didn’t do anything wrong. Can I just go?”

He paused, remaining quiet for a second. Then, “Get into a fight like that again because your little friend can’t take care of himself, and you’re out. You’ve had five warnings.” He paused, and eyed you carefully. “You’ve got potential. Buckets of it. Don’t waste it.

Now, get out of my office.”

A single bell rang all over the building, indicating the most anticipated time of the day: lunch time, at exactly twelve-forty. You swung open the office door, pulling it shut behind you. And, as you stepped out into the hallway, so did the troublemaker you called your best friend.

Directly in front of you, with scarlet cheeks and a sharp smile, stood Rudy Wilson, at attention.

“You got Fields,” he smirked. “Lucky.”

“I’m starting to think you have a thing for her,” you nodded at the door of the second most terrifying Lieutenant of FEDRA school.

Rudy shrugged, setting off down the hallway. Already the sound of other students yelling from floors below was getting louder.

“I love her to pieces,” Rudy sang, humming. He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Especially all those wrinkles.”

“You’re disgusting.”

Descending the next two floors, you landed on ground level, and promptly joined the lunch queue, forming against the walls of the gymnasium.

If you had known that day would be your last normal one with your best friend, you might have talked more. You might have cracked another joke at Rudy’s expense, or even thanked Lieutenant Fields for always letting you off lightly. But nobody ever really knows when the last day of something will arrive, and it’s only when the wheels are turning and time is ticking that you start to realise you ought to have done more.

Your alarm clock reads two-past midnight when Rudy’s shadow forms on the fire escape just beyond your dormitory window. You didn’t even miss the warmth of your bed, when it came to escapades with Rudy.

“I’ve got something to show you, later,” he explained through a mouth full of potato at lunch. You’d nodded, excited at the prospect of another secret outing.

You climbed out of bed, and reached under it for your best shoes: an old pair of green lace-ups, and your backpack. Without a blip, you descended the fire escape together.

“You gonna tell me where we’re going?” You asked, climbing slowly down the ladder.

He hummed dramatically. “Maybe.”

“Is it somewhere I’ve been before?” You glanced down, wondering. He simply shook his head.

“Surprisingly, no.”

That final night together, Rudy was dressed in faded jeans, almost grey in colour, a too-big black tee tucked into his too-small pants, and a black jacket. His copper hair had been pushed back from running his fingers through it so often, and his sharp face was alight with the glee of childish mischievousness.

Past piles of rubble, past mountains of ash you walked, remains of the fireflies’ failed attempts at overruling FEDRA. Some of the buildings were only partially blown up last night, some still crumbling from months ago, and you were forced to slow your sneaking lest you wanted the rubble to bring you down with it. The air smelled of fire and dirt, the stars way up there watching two teens enjoy the beginning of their last night together. Rudy led the way, crouching behind buildings and signs when lights in the lookout towers came too close for comfort.

Eventually, you arrived at your destination.

Sceptically, you eyed the large, domed building. It was bathed in darkness, the outline barely visible in the dimmed light of street lamps.

“The mall?” You raised a brow. Rudy’s spindly figure, walking ahead, turned in a swift spin, grinning. “But…you know what’s in there, right?”

“I know what isn’t in there, more like. Now hurry up; we’re on a tight schedule.”

You followed after him promptly. “You're tellin’ me. You do know I have to be up in three hours for drill, right? I know you have the luxury of not having to be a part of that these days, but some of us haven’t been recruited by the fireflies.”

He waved his hand at you, unbothered. “Pffft. I do far more exciting things than drills with the fireflies.”

“Like what? Shooting people?”

“Hey,” he elbowed you. “You’ll be shooting people too, soon.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong. “Yeah, but for good reason.”

Rudy groaned loudly. “Jesus, you do far too much kissing FEDRA’s ass.”

“Shut up and lead the way, you terrorist.”

Rudy made a start by climbing a well-established path up to the roof, using mismatched ladder parts and old boxes. His fluid movements told you, he’d been here before.

“For somewhere that’s full of infected, it’s sure lacking security,” you commented, looking up. Rudy, agile as a spider and already halfway up a bit of roof, jammed his foot against a hold and lowered his hands to help you up. His sharp smile appeared, canines slightly longer than the rest of his smile.

“Like I said before,” his deepening voice, not quite there yet, rang loudly in the dead of night. “It’s not full of infected. In fact, it never was. I’ve been working on your birthday surprise for months now, amongst other things. Lemme tell you; we’re very safe here.”

“Famous last words,” you jumped your brows. He imitated your words, sticking out his tongue.

Up the roof you went, growing ever more nervous. The night was cooler than the day—so warm today, in fact, that it thundered all afternoon. September’s cooler climate was fast approaching, thank goodness. Your hands slipped a little bit, making your way up. Thoughts ran amok. Sure, Rudy said it was safe, but how could he know for certain? The thrill of doing something new began to overtake the sense of anxiety, however, and you didn’t contemplate the infected for long.

You crouched beside Rudy, whose eyes narrowed into the dark below, searching. Water from this afternoon’s rain slipped through a gap in the roof, spattering and echoing across something down below in the dark.

“Right,” Rudy cleared his throat, grabbing your arm forcefully. “Down you go.”

Without warning, he pushed you over the edge, down the hole. You screamed, heart falling to your stomach, but you didn’t fall far. Instead of landing on concrete, you…bounced?

An old mattress cushioned your fall. Above, Rudy laughed.

Safe to say, you chewed his ear off when he landed, too.

Inside, everything had rotted. From the mattress you landed on, to the metal stairs Rudy told you to ascend; all slimy, all gross. Your ears honed in on the small sounds, listening for signs of infected;

Nothing.

“Okay,” Rudy shrugged his pack up his back. “It’s just up these stairs. But first I gotta…”

Halfway up the staircase, he reached up for a corroded metal box, nimble fingers twisting a small latch until the door swung. Inside sat a set of switches, none labelled. This didn’t matter to Rudy, who flicked them all down. You expected some sort of commotion—but nothing in the air changed.

“Oh, no way!” He had flicked a switch, and waved his hand. A sign above the door—albeit a bit rotted—came to life in vivid red. “But how?”

“Did you see those blocks of buildings earlier, on the roof?” You nodded. “Marlene told me FEDRA is starting to open them up. More people are coming into the QZ, so they need more housing. They obviously need lighting, so when they connected them up to the mains, they connected this place, too. Who knows if they meant to do it—I’m just glad they did. Makes for a great birthday present.”

You nodded along, in wonder and wondering. “But—if the lights are on, won’t somebody see? They’ll know we’re here.”

“How will they?” He scoffed. Rudy led the way up to a set of double doors. Old, yellowed stickers remained set across them: TEAM MEMBERS ONLY. “You saw this place from the outside. It’s one big, blacked out dome. People think it’s full of infected, civvies won’t come this far, and FEDRA don’t know a thing about it being connected to the mains. We’ll be alright.”

You trusted Rudy. Really, you did. In all of your shenanigans, Rudy was the instigator. Something about this huge, quiet mall sat your nerves on edge, however. You’d wandered to the old park on the far side of the QZ, and walked the streets at all hours of the night, but the sheer size of the mall, stepping inside, made you feel uneasy.

Despite this, it was also amazing.

Neon colours and bright lights illuminated the vast space. The stores themselves had long since been abandoned, rummaged through and almost destroyed. What seemed to be fake plants here and there provided a sense of life you didn’t often feel in the zone. You tried to picture the stores full, the place clean and busy.

Some stores, like Jane Norman, and Victoria’s Secret, still displayed clothes and shoes, and for some reason hadn’t been looted as well as the others, which were empty, storefront signs flickering, half-lit.

“Wait for it,” Rudy said, out of the blue. You frowned. Wait for what?

All of a sudden, music began playing quietly all over the mall, a little crackly but there. An upbeat song you’d never heard before, but loved instantly. The lights, the music, the stores…it was one thing to read old books where the characters went shopping, or had a girls trip. But to actually set food inside of the setting (albeit, very different from how they were originally written), was a strange feeling.

Your head snapped to Rudy. You were all smiles, and Rudy shoved you.

“Knew you’d like it,” he coyly brushed you off. “Come on! There’s something even better this way.”

The ‘something even better’ happened to be an escalator. You’d read about these moving staircases in books, but actually standing on one? Whole. Different. Experience.

“Hey!” Rudy called, laughing. “Look at me!” His long legs marched backwards on the escalator, which was rolling down to the floor below. Rudy remained in place, as if he were marching on air. You couldn’t help but laugh, and make your way down to the next floor by sliding down the escalator rails.

This floor had been used for restaurants and smaller stores. Rudy plumed ahead, nattering on about needing new shoes. You took your time exploring a bookstore. Some of them had rotted, full of brown mould, and were tipped face-down, pages bent. But the ones you saved, you shoved in your backpack. Only two, but more than you’d held in a while.

“I feel bad,” you told Rudy, kneeling, zipping up your backpack of new books.

He pocketed something you didn’t see. “Nobody’s gonna know. Like, ever. Take what you want. It’s your birthday.”

“I’m gonna use that explanation for the rest of my life,” you raised a brow. “It’s my birthday. Stealing is acceptable and excused.”

A plastic water bottle. A pair of socks. Books, jeans, and a sweater. Your shoulders ached with the weight in your pack.

Rudy had been quiet for a while, allowing you to explore. Now, he smiled excitedly, buzzing in place.

“And now, the finale,” he proclaimed dramatically, waving his arms. “This way, madam.”

You walked another floor. This far away, the music playing was almost inaudible.

At the end of the hallway, Rudy proudly beamed.

“Welcome to the carousel,” Rudy waved his hand. “Right this way, your ladyship.”

“No. Fucking. Way. Dude!”

All smiles, you approached the glowing amusement, shining in the dark. Horses painted with sashes of every colour sat at varying heights, lights reflecting in the mirrors.

“Your horse awaits.” Rudy climbed up onto the ride, pushing open the small door in the centre of it. He whacked something a few times, and the ride began to move, going around slowly. You hurried to join him.

“I’m afraid this is the final amusement,” he proclaimed dramatically, rolling his eyes. You couldn’t help giggling at him. “However, we have been here for two hours, and you have to be up for drill in thirty minutes. So!” He clapped his hands, and climbed the horse beside yours.

Music from so long ago, sweet and lyricless, played softly as the carousel turned. Your horses moved with the music, up and down gently. You closed your eyes, remembering this feeling of utter calm. Rudy at your side, the cold of the pole you held, and the jingling, old-worldly music. The warmth of the evening, and the knowledge that the two of you were completely alone.

The sudden jolt of the carousel almost sent you careening off your horse. Rudy exclaimed, and the carousel slowed to a stop, the music falling short. Rudy groaned, sliding of his horse.

“Awh, come on!”

A few whacks of the console later, the ride was done. Rudy came out sheepishly, shrugging. “I think we broke it.”

Despite the ride’s end, you couldn’t help smiling, climbing down. “I think you broke it. I’m not sure you’re supposed to hit electricals.”

“Whatever, loser. Wanna get going?”

As much as you enjoyed your night looting and exploring, you did need to get going. “Sure. Although I don’t appreciate having to do drill on no sleep.”

He scoffed, and then quietened. “But, did you enjoy your birthday surprise?”

He’d never admit that he was conscious of his actions. That wasn’t Rudy.

“Yeah,” you said. “Thank you, Rudy.”

You walked back the way you came. A couple of times, you thought you heard crashing, but when you mentioned this to Rudy, he shook his head.

“Just the ride breaking down,” he waved it off. “Let’s just get out of here.”

For somebody who swore the mall was safe, Rudy appeared to be on edge. He kept looking back after every noise, prompting you to walk faster.

“You’re gonna miss drill,” was his excuse.

The final time, you couldn’t deny the noise. Clicking, and groaning. An inhuman noise from just down the mall. Growing louder.

You blinked at him, fearfully. For a second, you swear your heart stopped.

Rudy had grown pale. His brown eyes looked black in his very white face. He gulped. “Don’t panic. We’re fine. We’re—”

It had been closer than you both thought it was. Out of the shadows, something snarled, and it burst forth, running at you with unnatural speed. It’s head was split open by the fungus you’d only seen pictures of, and it was more horrifying in person. Dried blood stuck to its clothes, and dribbled from its mouth. It shrieked and screeched as it stumbled towards you, and in a frantic hurry, you screamed.

Rudy snatched up your arm and yanked you along desperately. “Don’t try to fight it! Fucking run! Go!”

Your voices echoed, the sound of the infected screaming echoing with you. Your heart pumped viciously, throat and chest burning with exertion. FEDRA school provided the basics in saving your hide—doing the real thing happened to be much, much harder. You grasped your switchblade from your pocket, flipping it open.

The Infected caught your hair. Yanked you down.

Your chin smacked the floor, and pain radiated through your face. The deafening shriek it let out rang in your ears as harsh blows from its erratic hands pounded your head. All you could do was try to crawl away.

Rudy yelled, another weight added to the mix. You were released momentarily. You looked up; your switchblade lay halfway across from where you lay, breathing deeply. A little away from you, a sharp knife stuck out of the Infected’s neck, blood leaking out. Rudy fought with all his might, kicking, punching. You found your feet, trying to hurry and save Rudy, but it was like you were stuck in jelly, everything felt weird. Rudy howled in pain, the Infected screamed, and your knife lay in your hand once again.

With a strange determination, you ran over, grabbed the Infected by the shirt, and drove your blade into it with a fury that frightened you. Again and again, until it grew quiet and motionless.

All was quiet. The scuffle of your shoes, rounding the dead Infected, felt jarring.

Rudy was breathless. You were breathless.

“Oh shit. Holy fuck.”

Pure shock. Adrenaline ran through your veins, and your whole body shook. Rudy’s eyes didn’t meet your eyes. His whole face fell.

On the floor, they rested midway. You slowed down, and directed your eyes in the direction his were.

There, on your wrist, lay a bleeding wound in the shape of teeth. The sight made you woozy, forcing you to sit down before you fell down.

The despair hit quickly. “Oh, not today. Not my birthday.”

Rudy huffed a tearful laugh. “Any other day is fine?”

You wanted to pretend it didn’t hurt and walk out of here to the parade yard. Truthfully, the bite really fucking hurt. If you didn’t wrap it up soon, you’d bleed more than you liked.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

Rudy took a minute. Then he pulled up the too-big jacket, and revealed a similar bite on his wrist. The bone looked swollen and bruised, and bled profusely.

You moved over to your best friend, and together you warmed up, still shaking.

“I don’t want to be like that. I don’t—” he choked tearfully, dark eyes on the Infected. “I don’t want to be like that. End it. I’ll do the same. For you.”

As if Rudy predicted it, he declined first. The twitching a half hour or so after the accident. By now, your classmates would be asking around for you. Not long after the twitching did Rudy cry in pain. You couldn’t do it then.

Only when there was no sign of Rudy left, that was when you got on with it.

You really didn’t want to think about what would happen to you. Or rather, what wasn’t happening.

Hours passed, you’d stopped the bleeding, but nothing more had occurred. The skin around the bite had bruised, and turned puffy, but…you hadn’t changed. And it was well past the change time. So what the hell happened?

You decided to move. You couldn’t sit any longer with Rudy’s body, especially now there was a chance there was more than one Infected.

You shared a final look with Rudy, eyes closed like he was just fast asleep.

They caught you on your way out—Fireflies.

—

CHAPTER THREE

[fluffallamaful]

Familiarity in Flowers

🦙🦙🦙…

based on the results of Poll Fic #1

canon to Llama’s DSMP AU

finally. this is my first dsmp fic since june last year 😵‍💫 thank you all so much for your patience and understanding <33

Summary: Dream finds himself taking refuge in a tulip field after being broken out of prison. DreamXD finds him and Dream notices that the god is hiding something from him. His cheekiness and curiosity gets him tickled silly. TERRIFICALLY PLATONIC

Warnings: tickling, XD has four arms, mouth tickles

Word Count: 4880

please please enjoy oh my gosh

🦙🦙🦙…

Dream didn’t think that he had ever been more grateful to see a flower biome in his life.

His legs were tired, unfamiliar with the amount of physical exertion that they had been put through, and his prison wear proved to be useless at protecting him from the previous snow biome’s bite. He was tired, cold and exhausted; but he was also finally free.

Oak tree branches greeted him with open limbs as he finally stumbled over the biome’s border, a ceremony of colourful petals bowing down to him as he scurried past. His lungs wheezed hungrily at the sweet scented air; he’d been running ever since leaving Technoblade’s snowy cottage, and they were as tired and out of practice as his legs.

The piglin hybrid had been gracious enough to uphold his favour and escort Dream safely away from the angry crowds outside his prison, but he had also made it clear that that would be the end of his prison break-out service. Once again, Dream had been stripped of the safety-net of having someone to fight alongside, but more importantly, the fresh set of armour that he had been given. Optimistically, he was aware that he’d be able to recover both, he just needed to find Punz.

A few more chunks of desperate bounding saw Dream’s body disappointingly reach its limit. A small clearing within the flowery forest broke his fall as his legs literally gave out beneath him. He tumbled a few more blocks after that, rolling limply through a patch of unsuspecting pink and orange tulips, and landing face down into the grass beneath.

There was barely enough strength left in him to open his eyes, but he managed to groan and roll himself onto his back, batting at the curious tulips and grass stems that leant down to smother his face — analyzing their new company. He knew that there was no way that he could run another step; his chest heaved and his legs trembled even whilst just lying, sprawled out in a flower field. Though he was certain that he had run far enough to lose any of his angry followers.

Beyond the waving tulips in his peripheral vision, a bright, blue sky stretched out above him, smeared with fluffy, white clouds. A breath of wind blew across the clearing. Dream listened to it approach, and then finally mustered up the energy to lift himself up onto his elbows to bathe in it. He tilted his head up, closing his eyes as the breath gently pulled at his unkept hair, listening to the whispers of the field around him as it basked in the same feeling. It felt more incredible than he could have ever imagined, an immovable smile crept up his face.

Catching his breath allowed him to take in the beauty of his surroundings, as he began to sort through his inventory. Ahead of him was a dark oak forest, one that prompted him with the need to feel just a little more prepared for the approaching night.

Although he didn’t have his armour, he still had managed to collect an array of useful items during his escape; four healing potions, two fire resistance potions, seventeen ender pearls, a half-used nether axe and half a stack of steak were only the beginnings of his findings. He laid them out neatly in the field in front of him once he had counted them, each one glistening beautifully under the glorious rays of the server’s sunshine. He still had this eerie feeling that someone was watching him — no doubtably a drawback from being monitored in prison for a whole year — but he tried his hardest to ignore it.

Another breeze rolled across the field and Dream lifted his head again. He shut his eyes, listening to the whispering life forms around him and it rushed past his face. A subtle shift in the air flow around him raised suspicion in his gut, potentially another symptom of his paranoia; but as a shadow made itself present against the backs of his eyelids, he was left with no other choice but to give into its nagging, pulling away from his moment of serenity.

He made the right call.

The flower field that once lay out in front of him had now been replaced, blocked. In its place was instead a looming figure, one that wore a white porcelain mask and very nearly scared Dream all the way out of his skin. He let out a yell, jolting back away from the upside down face, and gasping sharply when a set of familiar, cloak-covered arms broke his fall. The face leant in, apparently having no regard for Dream’s personal space. It was as equally familiar as the arms that held him.

“XD..?” He questioned, unable to control the startle in his voice. He could hear his heart racing in his ears as a low chuckle rumbled out from behind the mask, vibrating up his spine.

“Dream.” The being greeted, removing himself from Dream’s space. Dream felt himself relax, letting out a breath of relief as he was tilted back up into his original position. He scrambled himself around to face the familiar god, lifting up his chin.

Despite appearing significantly smaller to how he had done in prison, DreamXD was still tall, reaching well over four blocks and towering over Dream’s seated body. Their stance was rigid, gaze directed out towards the dark oak biome’s borders behind him. They seemed disgruntled by something, Dream recognised the subtle signs of worry.

“You scared me!” He accused, naturally shrinking away when the god’s attention shifted back down to him. They stared at him for a moment behind unreadable porcelain, before their shoulders also appeared to relax, and an amused smile stretched beneath their mask instead.

“You’re a long way from prison.” They purred. Their rigidity appeared to be brushed aside as they dipped down to join Dream in his patch of flowers. His cloak arranged itself around him during his descent, blanketing any nearby tulips in a sea of deep green, and chasing out a gust of displaced air as it did so. “How did you manage that?”

Dream felt his lips wobble and stretch to mirror their expressions.

“Techno broke me out.” He began, hopelessly proud. “He dug through the wall and we swam out through the lava. Like it was honestly so cool, it was like — four of us versus the whole server. It was epic!”

The god scoffed at his enthusiasm, but even so Dream couldn’t stop himself from rambling. The feeling of being free was exhilarating, and the god’s presence always seemed to bring out a hidden vulnerability within himself. He had an aura of safety around him, a radiating warmth that always managed to draw Dream in.

He ended up explaining his breakout in great detail, and DreamXD allowed him every word. It felt good to have someone to talk to, and incredible to have the wind on his shoulders and grass beneath his body.

“Well aren’t you a clever one.” The deity praised once Dream’s recount came to an end. They had picked up one of his healing potions and were tapping patiently at its glass. Dream beamed at the words. He was aware that they were laced with subtle sparks of humour and sarcasm — DreamXD was a being beyond mortal troubles after all — but his smile was wide and proud regardless.

“George will be pleased to see you.” They continued, offering Dream a friendly smile. The phrase was clearly meant to be comforting, reassuring. It was spoken with such a soft tone and was ended with an even softer smile, and yet the mere mentioning of his old friend sent Dream’s body into a panic. His heart leapt to his throat, thudding away against his voice box as his body promptly drained itself from all remnants of pride and joy.

George…

He hadn’t expected to hear that name so soon, in fact he was borderline ignoring it. Dream hadn’t even considered that he’d now be able to reunite with his former best friend; half of him wanted to believe that it was because he was mad at George, but the other half was louder and far more convincing.

He was afraid.

The fear of being rejected pin pricked all over his skin at the innocent mention of the brunette’s name, along with a set of carelessly crafted "What if’s?”:

What if George shared the same motives as Sapnap? What if he believed that Dream deserved to rot away in prison?

The idea of George being disappointed or angry at Dream wrapped tightly around his throat.

What if he tried to hurt him? What if George got hurt because of Dream again?

The panicked flurry of thoughts took Dream’s hesitation as an opportunity to speak without his permission.

“No.” He found himself saying, stern and clear. The smile below XD’s mask faded into a frown. Dream felt his chest tighten. “I’m- I’m sorry.” He followed up quickly. The god carefully replaced the healing potion back down into the grass. He nodded his head, slowly. Dream could tell that he was disappointed.

Another breeze rolled over the field, filling the silence between the two beings with whooshing whispers. It settled Dream a little, but didn’t do much to alleviate the weight of guilt on his shoulders. He felt on the verge of tears — a feeling that he seldom felt, provided that he wasn’t unaccompanied by the apparent-god of the server. He felt silly and pathetic and so unbelievably overrun with guilt.

“George likes these sorts of flowers.” The god’s voice was a soft rumble, combining perfectly with the whispering flora around them. Dream looked over to him, they were disassembling an orange tulip, petal by petal. He managed to nod his head in agreement, but his mind was well and truly elsewhere.

“I just- don’t want him getting hurt...” He confessed, earnestly. It was not the full truth, but it was one that he felt XD would at least be able to understand, or more to the point, one that he was comfortable admitting. To his surprise the god scoffed at his explanation.

“Nothing is going to hurt George.” They stated firmly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. His tone was confident but Dream also sensed that the affirmation was not only meant for him. He tilted his head, beckoning the god to elaborate, but they merely switched topics.

“How did you find this place?” The orange tulip had been dismantled, and the deity moved to fiddle with Dream’s axe instead. Dream watched him easily handle the weapon as though it were a small twig.

The wording of the question caught his attention, pairing with the god’s previous claim and sparking a fire of curiosity within him.

‘This place.’

To Dream this indicated some sort of significance to the clearing.

“I don’t know, I just ran.” He shrugged, watching curiously as XD’s gait appeared to freeze; their fiddling stopped and their gaze lifted up to stare past him into the dark oak biome like before. Intriguingly, their worry seemed to have returned.

“Why?” Dream asked, turning to scan the edges of the forest’s border in case there was someone or something lurking there. He couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, maybe a few more mushrooms than he’d expect, but that was all. When he turned back, the god was focused on him instead. He shifted under their gaze.

“No reason.” They claimed. Dream eyed him suspiciously. It sounded very much like a lie. He decided to pry further.

“You keep looking over there… Is there something in there?”

It was intriguing to watch a being as inhuman as XD portray such human reactions. Dream watched the god hesitate at his question. Their shoulders rolled with the obvious pressure of keeping a secret, and his axe was promptly replaced back down into the grass.

“..No…”

Curiosity surged through Dream’s veins. His lips twitched into an amused smirk.

“You’re lying!” He pointed out, shuffling himself up onto his knees to face the good square on.

“I’m not!”

Dream couldn’t help but laugh, they just sounded so flabbergasted.

“Aren’t you like— a god or something? Shouldn’t you be able to keep secrets??” The god huffed at the call-out. Dream ignored him. “What’s in the dark oak forest?”

“Nothing!” Dream raised an eyebrow, he’d never seen XD so squirmy.

He decided to push the god further, allowing himself to stand and turn himself towards the forest again. The deity acted as he felt he would, whooshing their way into his vision to block his view. Dream dodged around him, expecting the reaction, and found himself to laugh at the god’s yell of dismay.

“You’re hiding something!” He yipped, making a break for the dark oak’s borders. Along with XD’s ability to coax out Dream’s most deepest vulnerabilities, he also apparently had the ability to inject giddy curiosity into his veins.

The whoosh of XD’s cloak appeared again, this time engulfing Dream in its fabric before he had a chance to dodge around it

“No! Let me see!!” Dream yelped. His heart fluttered with excitement, parting his lips into a giddy smile. There was something in the dark oak forest, there was just no way that there wasn’t! He giggled as the god hissed out his disapproval.

“It’s not for humans. No one is supposed to be able to find this place.” The god’s arms adjusted around Dream, blocking any wriggly escape attempts with a replenishing wall of fabric.

“Supposed to?” Once again the wording caught Dream’s attention. The cloak had muffled his voice but had done nothing to dampen his curiosity. “Does that mean that somebody has already found it?”

A beat of silence from the god caused Dream’s smile to triple in width. The reaction was enough to quench his query, and he went back to batting and wading through his fabric prison.

It was a hopeless process.

“You are asking, a lot of questions...” The god growled, slowly. Their arms tightened around Dream’s waist, stilling his squirming entirely.

The warning tone in his voice could not have been more clear, leading Dream to believe he was on the right track with his prying. All common sense and caution had been lost to the impulsivity of his adrenaline. “So I take that as a yes?”

Another low, irritated growl rumbled out from behind him. Dream chuckled, tilting his head up and providing XD with a victorious smile. It was fascinating to watch the clear signs of frustration play out on XD’s face, despite it being mostly hidden by his mask. Dream was able to paint a vivid picture of what his full expressions may look like based on just the pout that twisted his lips; they were well and truly peeved.

“It’s too easy~” He teased. XD bared his teeth into a snarl, a much firmer warning. Dream supplied a cheeky grin in return, but he felt his heart pound when the god’s snarl crept its way up into a smile; a slow creeping, mischievous smile.

“You’re a lot more spritely out here than you were cooped up in that cell.” They observed, a sudden smoothness and venom to their tone. Dream gasped as the hands around his waist suddenly stirred, shuffling beneath the deity’s cloak and latching themselves onto his sides. His common sense made a quick return, pushing its way back into control and immediately barking out warnings to his nervous system.

“W-wahAIt NO!!” He yelped, twisting amongst his cloak-prison. Any misplaced confidence was promptly chased away by new spikes of panic; though the giddy excitement circuiting his bloodstream remained. Together, the feelings collected and combined in his stomach, fluttering around clumsily like a newly hatched phoenix, before climbing up and out of his throat in the form of panicked, bubbly giggles.

“Usually you’re so sad and mopey.” The god continued over Dream’s emerging laughter, taunting him with the calmness in his tone. He drew circles into Dream’s sides, moving up and down the muscles despite the boy’s kicks and squirms.

“But now you’re so chipper!”

“NOhoho!! StAHAp!!”

“Wouldn’t you agree, Dreamie?” Dream’s laughter hiccuped as XD’s hands moved up to his ribs, stamping his feet into the grassy ground and scrunching up his shoulders as their playful growl rumbled through him.

“StAHAp!! Ohohobiviously!!” He whined, prying and clawing at the shape of their hands.

In hindsight, this form of retaliation from the god should have been better anticipated; Dream had of course never not been reduced to a giggly mess after each one of XD’s previous visits. He had been naive to challenge them, and he knew all too well that escaping the god was always a hopeless process, especially now that he was working with an exhausted body and giddy mind.

“You’re also much more sassy.”

Dream doubled over as the god’s fingers began climbing up his ribcage, trembling and squeaking as they kneaded and teased each bone.

“Nohoho Ihihi—!!”

“Still just as adorable though.”

Dream shook his head, quickly succumbing to the burn of his growing blush. Along with being impossible to escape, the god also had a certain way with his words that left Dream writhing. Their creeping squeezes and teasy comments moved faster than his tired brain could ever keep up with. It was simply impossible to console himself. He collected up two fistfuls of fabric and buried his face into them.

“Ehehehex Dehehehe…” He whined.

“And still just as ticklish.” A muffled protest was thrown into his cloak burrow.

“STA-hahaP! Ihih’m NOHOT!!” Dream cried. He hated that word. Hot fluster-borne tears gathered in his eyes as his skin prickled with chilling embarrassment. He slid down in XD’s hold, buckling at the knees and pressing his face further into his green haven.

“Ohhh, it’s too easy…” XD mocked, continuing their crawling journey up his ribcage. Their hold loosened around Dream’s waist, apparently taking pity on the ex-prisoner’s fluster, and allowing him some wiggle room.

Dream made no hesitation in abusing the deity’s gesture.

The second he felt XD’s hold relax, he re-engaged his squirming; kicking, prying, leaping and bouncing with any ounce of energy that he could muster up. Until finally, he was free.

“YES!!” He cried, tittering madly to himself as he scampered his way towards the dark oak’s border’s again. His heart raced in his chest, pounding excitedly at the thought of XD chasing him down. He hadn’t felt this sort of playful adrenaline in such a long time; not since before L’manburg. It felt as though he had been struck by lightning, like his brain was charged with childish curiosity and innocence. He couldn’t stop giggling.

His adrenaline carried him only a chunk or so before the burn of exhaustion swelled in his legs again, then it was only a few more blocks after that that his brief getaway was brought to its inevitable end. Two cloaked arms wrapped around his waist, engulfing him with familiar forest green, and lifting him from the ground. Before Dream could even think to fight his way free, or yelp out a protest, the world around him twirled.

Suddenly, he was looking at the dark oak biome from a new perspective, with a sky of tulips above his head, and a stretching sea of blue at his feet. He craned his neck up, only to find DreamXD’s signature, menacing grin staring back down at him; from in between his thighs…

“NoHO!!” He cried, letting out uncontrollable titters out at the sight. His legs were slung over the deity’s shoulders, and he was pinned down at his thighs by two large, clawed hands. The deity’s head rested in between, and their lower set of arms wrapped around Dream’s waist to keep him extra steady. Butterflies swarmed inside Dream’s stomach, and his head spun as he attempted to orientate himself.

“You really want to know what’s in there?” DreamXD mused, dragging long nails up and down Dream’s thighs.

Dream gasped, holding his breath to stifle his reactions. The god's claws were way out of his reach, and yet he still attempted to swing himself up to bat at them to defend himself. He was quickly broken into breathy, panicked giggles, which apparently prompted the deity’s hands to increase their pressure. The hands switched from tracing to squeezing, latching onto Dream’s thighs and massaging at his tired muscles.

“NahAHAha!! Fuhuhuhuck youhuhuhu!!” Dream cried, throwing his head back into free flowing cackles. He clawed at the hands around his waist as compensation for not being able to reach his thighs.

“Ohhhh fuck me??” The deity challenged. Dream squealed when their hands moved to taser at his inner thighs. “And to think that I was trying to protect you!!”

“EHEhEX DEHE!!”

“Maybe I will have to send you there after all!!” Dream shook his head. It didn’t matter how much he kicked, he wasn’t able to move his thighs in the slightest.

“Juhuhust tEHELl mehe whahat’s iN thehehere!!”

“Mm I don’t know if I should~” The deity crooned. “It’s not safe for mortals, like you!” His fingers moved down to tap and squeeze at Dream’s hip bones. Dream began squeaking through his laughter.

“Whyhyhy..?” He hiccuped, shaking his head again in an attempt to clear some of his brain fog. He felt dizzy and light, almost as though he were resting on clouds.

“It’s full of monsters!” XD hissed, snarling his answer in a playful whisper. “Monsters that were created to gobble up meddling mortals like you!”

Dream let out a squeal as the deity’s lower hands suddenly unwrapped themselves and scuttled up his sides. He yelped and yipped, battling with the delighted terror in his stomach. The lower set of arms left him with enough freedom to twist and swing, but the new firmer hold on his thighs still kept him from falling.

“NAHAhHaha!! I cahan tahahake thehehem! Juhuhust let me gohoho!!”

“Ohhh you wouldn’t stand a chance!!”

Dream screamed as the god moved his scuttling around to his stomach, showering the sensitive area with unpredictable spidering.

“You’re just far too ticklish to win against a tickle monster.”

“XD!!” Dream yelled, bucking his hips in a wild panic. His stomach fluttered and flustered under the soft touch, burning itself up into a hot lava mess and oozing its way down to his neck and cheeks. “YOU’RE LYING!”

“And the tickle monsters love ticklish little snacks like you!”

“NOHO!!” He wailed.

His body fell back limp against XD’s, losing himself to waves of laughter, and strings of incoherent babbles. He pried at the god’s hands but it hardly made a difference in their attack.

Once the hands found their way beneath Dream’s prison shirt and onto his bare skin, Dream truly felt that he had been teleported into the clouds. His skin fluttered and jumped at every scritch and scratch from the god, leaving behind an army of goosebumps and shivers each time. Mirthful tears in his eyes made the dark oak forest look like a painting, washed and abstract, and he could feel that his cheeks and stomach were as hot as the nether.

“Soooo flustered!” The god crooned. He loosened his hold around Dream’s thighs, letting him slide down towards the waving flower field below, and stilling his skittering fingers. “The monsters will be most pleased!”

Dream immediately covered his face with a whine, muffling untameable titters into the palms of his hands. He wanted so desperately to curl up, but his body was feeling far too weak and fluffy to obey any of his orders.

Flowers and grass stems greeted him with playful kisses and whispers once he was fully lowered into their grasp. He giggled and squirmed amongst them, completely lost and overcome by his heightened sensitivity. The god followed him down, looming over him and making Dream squeak and yelp at the shadow he created.

“Dreamie, Dreamie, Dreamie...” He sighed, grinning wildly when the boy squeaked at that as well. “What am I going to do with you?”

Dream peaked out from behind his hands, huffing and puffing amongst his nerves. It was ironically the most alive and grounded that he had felt in a long time, despite his floaty state.

“Lehehet mehe gohoho?” He suggested, cheekily. He couldn’t help himself.

“Hmmm.” The deity hummed, clearly in feigned thought. Dream giggled at that too, overcome by childish energy. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to give myself a little taster before I send you off there…”

Dream’s eyes widened as the deity’s grin did, watching in disbelief as they opened their mouth to reveal their fangs growing and sharpening right before his eyes.

“Youhuhur— youhuhur, youhuhur—!” He squeaked. His heart thumped wildly and excitedly in his chest. “Whaha—whahat??”

“Just a little nibble.” They explained, before diving down closer to Dream. They buried themselves into the startled boy’s neck, and began grazing his teeth over the skin there.

Dream screamed, not just from the shock of the movement, but from the sheer panic that XD was actually going to bite him.

“NAAHAHA EHEHEX DEHEHE!!!” He wailed, thrashing wildly beneath the god’s large body. Somehow, their teeth didn’t hurt in the slightest, but they did tickle. A whole lot.

Dream, was thrown into immediate hysterics, scrunching his shoulders up and pushing desperately at XD’s shoulders. He swore that he could feel each tooth nipping at the meat of his neck, grazing the sensitive area with the perfect amount of pressure to drive him insane. He arched his back, scuffing his boots into the grassy earth and cackling wildly like he had never done so before.

“PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!!” He cried, trying his darndest to wriggle and squirm away from the unbelievable feeling. The god hummed into his neck, causing Dream to yelp and scream at the buzzing feeling that it left behind. They moved up from the meaty muscles of his trapezium onto the softer skin on the side of his neck. Dream wheezed and thumped his fist into XD’s back.

It was only a few moments after the change of spots that XD apparently decided that Dream had had enough, and he pulled himself away to let the boy recover.

A blinding warmth replaced the deity’s shadow once they moved to sit in the flower field beside Dream. It cradled him in a soothing halo, and Dream didn't argue with its demand for him to keep his eyes closed, focusing on the swirling colours that danced around in the backs of his eyelids.

His skin tingled all over, lighting the fire that kept his giggles alive and bubbling, but also joining forces with the sun and smothering Dream in a comforting blanket of warmth. He felt safe, cozy. He could feel the gentle touches of the flower field around him, reminding him that he was being watched over. He leant into their brushes and sweeps, still giggling to himself and managing to scrunch when a curious tulip dipped down to check in on his neck.

“Plehe-ehehease..!!” He tittered, not really to anyone in particular. He felt dazed, blissed out, and more free than he had ever felt before.

Eventually his breathing calmed down enough for his giggles to die out, leaving him only with a huge smile. He opened his eyes to take in the blue sky above him, adoring the feeling of crisp forest air in his lungs. He wished he could feel this way forever.

“George is in there.”

XD’s voice startled Dream enough to make him jump. He snapped his head around to address the deity.

“Wh-hat.” He cleared his throat. “What did you say?”

“George.” The deity said again. He nodded his head towards the dark oak biome.

Dream sat up, following the god’s gaze out across the dark oak borders. The cogs in his brain grinded and churned, trying to understand what the deity meant, until suddenly he was swarmed with flashes of memories, reminding him of the night that XD had actually brought him to see George.

Was this the same dark oak forest??

“No one is supposed to be able to find it.” The deity explained, fiddling with a grass stem. “But you did.” He looked up to address Dream. Dream looked back to the forest again.

George.

“He’s ready to see you now. If you would like.” The god’s offer was gentle, soothing. He had lost much of his echoed voice and his tone made Dream feel warm and welcomed.

He nodded his head, slowly. XD visibly lit up at his agreeance. Dream couldn’t help but smile.

He allowed for the deity to pick him up, clinging onto soft green fabric as he was maneuvered into a cradle. His aching muscles wasted no time in melting into the god’s arms, and his lungs were quick to time their compressions to the thumping of his heart. The exhaustion that Dream had been trying to fight off so badly finally had the chance to catch up to him. His eyelids drooped under its pull, and his hands loosened their grip around the deity’s comforting fabric.

The pair didn’t even reach the dark oak’s border before sleep found its way to Dream, wrapping him in a cocoon of bliss, warmth and familiarity. He truly was finally free.

🦙🦙🦙…

so happy that i’ve finally finished this one. i’ve been working so much on it :D

[bigein]

I hope you do write the explicit scoteng omegaverse because I for one would love to read it!

sorry anon, as befitting my age I was out at the pub this weekend but happy easter and here you go (it ended up more one-shot than pwp and is in need of a proofread but today is my last day off, Godspeed).

---

Alasdair's shoulders are hot under his vest, the grass damp under his knees. He'd shed every layer he could and by mid-morning he was left in his boots, the thick denim he wears in the garden, and the fraying cotton that stretches tight across his chest. The belt at his hips is strapped tight and he tries to focus on that instead of the way his thighs tense and his gloved hands dig into the earth with a shudder like he is cold. It comes in waves, the heat that has him bent and huffing like a beast in the garden, tearing at roots like he wants to tear at himself.

At least the air out here clears his head, away from the unsettled scents of the house and the sharp smell of wood polish. Alasdair would have chosen beeswax but it was Dai charged with the floors and he'd come back from town with a tin can, new brushes and rags. Compromise. They are trying their hands at compromise, and Alasdair is trying, damn the devil, but he is already at his wit's end and today--

He tears harder at the ground and grits his teeth; sweat pools at his back. The grass crushed beneath his weight smells fresh and young; the weeds sharp and the soil rich and clean. The plot behind the house (their house) is little more than a tangle of briars and unkept rows of mint and meadowsweet. It is better than the polish, better than Sean's cider-and-turf and Daffyd's muted amber. They are not so far from the coast that he can't imagine the salt-tang of sea-spray in the air, metallic on his tongue. Today it makes him want to spit on the ground and pant, bite into something sweet until the juice drips down his throat.

He clenches his eyes shut and exhales like it hurts, and, to his great, fucking displeasure, he knows it's Arthur coming down to the garden before he even calls down. "Are those my gloves?"

Damn the devil and damn them all with it.

"Oi!" Arthur's steps stomp down like he is still walking on ship-boards. "I said, are those--"

"They don't fit you right." Alasdair tears at a tangle of roots and feels like a beast.

Arthur had good instincts once, and enough sense to know when to turn tail, but the last century has made him stupid. Stupid and presumptuous. He'd left a lad and came back reckless with it, scenting sweet under the bite of his temper.

"They're mine." He stops where Alasdair dropped his shirt earlier and toes it with his stupid, polished work shoes. Stupid, stubborn, reckless eejit. "What are you doing out here, anyway? You said--"

"--Fuck off back into the house and let me be." Alasdair does not know if it is by grace of his own idiocy or the damp earth that Arthur seems oblivious to the stench of him. He can see the shape of him out of the corner of his eye; the light corduroy of his trousers. Alasdair's left hand twitches where it is buried in the ground, tempted by the give of his thighs and the heat between them.

"What bit your arse today?" Arthur sounds almost too surprised to be angry and Alasdair knows he should have just stalked off himself when the bottom of Arthur's shoe finds his hip, trying to unbalance him from his crouch in retaliation.

He is not being serious with it and some part of Alasdair knows that he must be out here out of some misplaced sense of concern. Otherwise he would have fucked off at the first bark and if he'd been trying to pick up a fight proper he would have come down hollering. Instead he is here, eyebrows furrowed and mouth pursed, hands relaxed by his sides instead of clenched into fists. He has been biting at his nails again, and taking his pick from the laundry hamper like a nesting magpie and Alasdair cannot stand the sight of him, and his scent... He lingers by in the evenings when Alasdair has his whiskey like an old friend. Prattles on about his plans for the garden and what he'll be growing by next spring. Gets underfoot and in the way and on Alasdair's nerves like he means to. His scent is in every corner of the house, strongest in the living room and the kitchen, and the threshold to his room; pressed into the clean bedding because he holds the sheets under his chin when he folds them.

He can tell the moment Arthur catches the scent of rut on him, a flash of shock and sudden heat across his cheekbones. Alasdair already has him by the calf and it only takes a push to get him on the ground.

They grapple. Arthur claws at his vest until he catches skin and then softens, the bite of his nails easing into a tight grip instead. He doesn't want to draw blood, Alasdair thinks, and it makes him feel light-headed to consider why.

He has his full weight on Arthur, one of his knees heavy on the inside of his thigh. He eases up, nudging Arthur's leg around his waist and raising up on his forearms to get a good look at him.

The blush across his cheeks is darker, bleeding down his neck into the high collar of the shirt under the stripped plaid he is wearing. He is breathing hard through his nose, chin tipped back to catch Alasdair's eyes, waiting. Clever thing.

Alasdair is still wearing his gloves, the suede rough and stained. He pulls them off, tossing them carelessly to the side and reaching down to edge up his shirt. He is bare beneath it, ribs rising in time with his breathing. His skin is warm, flushing under his gaze and softest under the swell of his chest, where Alasdair can feel his heartbeat. He flinches when Alasdair thumbs nipple, scenting anxious and aroused.

"You're a sight, like this," Alasdair says and means it. He wants to put him mouth on him, make him sigh.

"And you are..." Arthur squints his eyes, huffs and swallows and lets his head drop back. "I thought you smelled off."

Alasdair thinks of rot and dirt and iron. "Like?"

"Hot," Arthur's throat bobs, the movement strained with his neck stretched out like that. His thighs twitch against Alasdair's sides, like he can't decide whether he'd like to close them. Alasdair can smell the heat of him, stronger now. Maybe he's just squirming. "Yourself or, not yourself just... hot. I thought maybe sick but I didn't think--"

Alasdair shuts him up by pressing his lips to his sternum, has to reach down to fist himself at the first brush of skin against his lips. Arthur doesn't sigh so much as he just hold his breath, holding very still like he's still waiting to see what Alasdair will do next.

He drags it out to see how long he'll last, brushing his lips slowly down, then up again. He breathes warm against Arthur's chest like he is tempting the burn in his lungs until he can't help it himself and his lips leave a path of sucking kisses everywhere he can reach. Arthur bites back a gasp and twitches hard against the press of Alasdair's teeth, hands flying to find his shoulders. He keeps his hands there, like he might throw Alasdair off and knocks his knees against his hips. Alasdair lets go of himself and crowds closer, a hand on Arthur's thigh now, the other on his neck. The shift in weight seems to do something for him and he shivers falling limp again where he'd been tense. Or maybe it is Alasdair lips which find his neck, his jaw, leaving bruises where he can reach.

His hands get rougher and his hips roll down, against the inside of Arthur's thigh who sighs, finally, or maybe moans, the sound drowned out by the grunt of relief deep from Alasdair's chest when he finally gets the friction he needs. His hands find a purchase in Arthur's hair, his thighs, his waist, seemingly unable to hold still and hungry for the give of his flesh. It's Arthur who finally reaches out, first to tear off Alasdair's vest and then tugging at his belt, hissing until Alasdair gives in and helps him undo the buckle.

They both groan, Alasdair in relief and Arthur with a hitch, getting a good look at the thickness of him and thinking there is no way, there is no way--

Alasdair has him on his knees, bare chest to the ground before he can breathe a word, tearing his trousers and getting them halfway down his thighs before he crowds in close again. Arthur's calves are tangled between his and he reaches out with one hand instinctively to scruff him down against the ground. Arthur whines, low and aroused, and holds still.

He's small, Alasdair thinks, blinking stupidly down at the right bonnie sight between his thighs. Alasdair wants to lick him, suck him, finger him loose. He spreads him open with a rough grip and settles for sucking the taste of him off his fingers instead. They'll have time for that later, for all of it. Alasdair will make him sob on his fist before the week is out, will fuck him sore and full and his. Put a bite on him, where everyone will see. He doesn't have the patience now to take his time and he can't, he won't, his knot would--

I'll tear him, Alasdair thinks and he shudders, aroused and balking at the thought at once.

He reaches for his belt instead.

The tail of it whips against the tender edge of Arthur's thigh when he rips it off and he would have apologised if Arthur hadn't pressed his thighs together with a tight moan. If it leaves a mark he'll kiss it better and leave another later, later. He's panting like he's been running miles and needs both hands to do what he's planning, looping his belt around Arthur's tights and pulling the cinch tight enough that it will catch his cock between them like he needs. Arthur gasps and reaches back like it shocks him but he is shaking, wet and aroused and pliable when Alasdair drapes his chest against his back and reaches around to keep his head up with a fist in his hair. His jaw would be too low otherwise and Alasdair wants to kiss him, wants to mouth against his neck and his lips if he can reach them while he thrusts like a beast between his thighs.

"Good, be good," he mouths his praise against his jaw and slaps his thighs against the swell of Arthur's arse. Arthur sobs and fists the grass with one hand, reaching between his legs with the other to rub against Alasdair's cockhead and his, cupping them so they'll rub together and begging like the clever thing he is, already so good for him. Alasdair rewards him with his teeth, wants to eat him whole.

When he comes it's with a shout, one hand desperately reaching down to cinch his belt tighter and milk his knot. They are a mess of cum and slick; they stink of each other and the garden, rubbed filthy with sweat and grass. Arthur comes with a shiver and a sigh, tired and shaking and held up only by the grace of Alasdair's strength. His thighs will bruise.

It is a good thing that it is a warm spring; or warm enough at least that they won't catch their deaths sprawled out in the garden like this, lazy and sated. Alasdair's fingers find Arthur's hair again, kinder this time. He wonders about summer, and whether they can have the plot cleared and tilled before the weather turns.

He's dozing off, thinking about strawberries and counting the weeks till July when a shrill cry from the house startles him bad enough he's almost on his feet, cock wet and trousers stained at the knees, before he recognises Sean's voice.

"Is that me fecking shirt, you goddamned degenerate?!"

Next to him, loose and breathless, Arthur laughs.

[sorryseraphim]

The campfire crackled as the quiet of the night enveloped the people around the camp. Helene, poking at the flames as they devoured the sticks she gathered earlier, felt a little less comfortable than usual. Her core was shaken by the revelation earlier about her past. Not only did she learn about the truth about who she is, but the nature of her urge to kill also made sense as the blood that flows inside her was bestowed by Bhaal, her very being created from divinity. 

She glanced at her companions, all sleeping soundly inside their respective tents. Astarion was already in the middle of his trance when she heard a rustling noise nearby. 

Naturally, she picked up her quarterstaff and went to investigate. She glanced back at camp before going further, her eyes scanning every shadow for more disturbances that may spring while she was gone. As she stepped closer towards the bushes, that's when she saw him. A bottle in hand, leaning by a tree, Enver raised a hand and signaled her to come over.

He looked harmless under the moonlight, his hair more unkept than usual, yet as she slowly took another step towards him, she held her weapon steady in front of her, pointing towards him. 

“Forgive me for intruding, but Orin is not the only one who knows where to find your camp.”

“Why are you here?”

He leaned forward, daring to step closer to her. Helene stood firm, her staff ready as he walked towards her. He extended the bottle forward.. It was wine, sickeningly sweet and tempting. A faint smell of Klauthgrass. She looked at him warily, not leaving his gaze as he retracted his arm and took a swig from the bottle. 

“I just wanted to talk. That’s all. Hells, probe my thoughts, if you will.” 

Slowly, she lowered her staff. She knows he had been spying on them, but something about the way he drank wine with Klauthgrass and allowed her to probe his mind said that he was not a threat at this moment. She looked back at camp, ensuring the campfire was still burning brightly before replying. “Sure. No funny business.”

Enver gestures for her to follow him, leading them to a nearby clearing. He sat down, watching her walk towards him and sit beside him. A soft smile crept on his face. 

She had every reason not to follow him here. The last time they saw each other right after his coronation was not one to forget; as soon as he invited her to his office above, alone, her companions waiting eagerly downstairs, he had tried to kiss her and succeeded. She couldn't fight back as the feeling of familiarity washed over her. The way his arms, sturdy and strong, wrapped around her that moment sent her elsewhere as if reliving a long-forgotten memory. 

The silence between them was maddening. Helene gathered her thoughts and looked at him, waiting for him to say anything. 

“You know, we used to tell each other everything. The mundane, our plans for the future. Even in the quiet moments like this, it didn’t bother us as long as we were together.”

She held her tongue, wanting to protest. I don’t remember; how would I know, she thought. She looked away and fixed her gaze towards the trees. “What was I like back then?” She asked, pulling a leg up and hugging it. She felt his gaze fall on her as he proceeds to speak.

She listened to him as he spoke of events she couldn’t remember. And yet she felt the gravity of her crimes, the times she spilled blood for the glory of her Father, and how in each murder and atrocities committed, Enver still welcomed her. Despite everything she did, he looked past them and dragged the purest version of her from the depths and let it live. 

“How long were we… lovers?” The word felt surreal as it rolled out of her mouth. 

“A very, very long time. We used to say it felt forever, even though it was so little. We never even got to finish what we started; we never even came close before you disappeared.” 

Helene looked at him. She couldn’t help but notice how his brows furrowed and his eyes sunken—the years caught on him, dark circles around from many sleepless nights. He stared at her, wondering, waiting for her to reply. She opened her mouth to say something but hesitated, sighing as she looked away.

He had expected this. She doesn’t believe anything at first; that has always been the case with her ever since. 

“Look at me.” 

She should not have done it when he asked. As soon as she did, he leaned forward, their lips touching again. But instead of the fierce and hungry kiss he did after the coronation, this one was tender, delicate even as his eyes fluttered. It was everything he could do before she walked away from him again. Slowly, he reached out for her cheeks, cupping them as he deepened the kiss. 

She should not have let him, but there it was again: the sense of familiarity she couldn’t visibly remember, yet it flooded her, feeling warmth as his lips touched hers. She felt something she hadn’t in a long time: the sensation of home. As they continued to kiss, he dared even further and slowly pushed her, laying her down the ground as they refused to break from the kiss. She could feel his breath hitting her skin when he broke away briefly. A rush of sensation: desire, longing, wanting was warring with anger and refusal. 

“Gortash, wait.”

At the sound of her voice, he stopped. He pulled back slightly, just so their faces were still close. Breathing heavily, he wanted to feel every inch of her again. To him, it didn’t feel wrong. This wasn’t wrong.

“We can’t keep doing this. He would know.” 

His breath slowed down, frowning at her. He dared cross that line again. One more time, he thought. “But you feel it, don’t you? You feel the pull, the draw. Our bodies fit together just as perfectly as our lives do.”

She pushed him back, sitting up. Looking at him with sadness, a bit of repulsion as her lips started to tremble, talking back at him. “And you tell me that for what? How can you expect me to run back to you when you didn’t look for me in the first place?”

“Helene…”

“All this time, I can’t remember. I always thought someone would come for me. And yet, you didn’t. Do you expect me to leave him to come back to you?” 

A deep pain went through him as she asked that question. He hadn’t thought of it; he had no explanation. He was so consumed by the very thought of taking over the world for them when she disappeared that Enver didn’t think of the possibility of her being alive. That was the reality. And yet, why did he wait all this time, hoping she would return when he could have looked for her? 

Just as he tried to gather his words, he heard the sobbing. He hadn’t heard her cry in a long time. His eyes widened at the sight of her tears, and without even thinking, he held her the way he did the very first time she laid herself vulnerable in front of him. 

“Why didn’t you look for me? Why do I have to suffer feeling everything and remembering nothing all at once?” 

“Look at me. Look at us. For once, Helene, trust the connection between us. I will bare my mind for you to see.”

“I... I don’t remember you. I’m sorry, this is unfair.”

In desperation, he held her hands and squeezed them. He wanted to hold her so badly, even though his heart was shattering as her tears continued to fall, every drop of water drowning his soul. 

“Don’t let this matter concern you. I will remember for the both of us.” 

She should not have done it. But as she lifted her head, she moved closer and slowly pressed her lips to his. She could not deny how she craved that feeling; after all this time she had struggled, the feeling of home felt right. He was stunned for a moment. But then he moved closer, pulling her in as he wrapped her arms around her body, pressing her as close to him as he could, and there he felt it: a spark of recognition deep within her. 

He wasn’t taking any chances. This was it; this was his chance. And so, once again, he pushed her to the ground and moved on top of her. Not caring anymore that they were lying in the dirt, the soft grass nestling them. Helene felt him lift the hem of her dress, one hand moving up her thighs and reaching to her tenderness. A soft moan escaped her lips.

He tried to restrain himself from doing so, as he didn’t want to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with, but as she moaned again, welcoming his fingers inside her, he took it as a sign and lowered his body on top of her further. She was giving herself to him, trusting him.

In haste, he loosened his trousers and pulled out his length, and as their tongues got to know each other again, he pushed himself inside her, moaning in each other’s mouth. How he had missed this feeling, how he has missed her warm body. The way her breath hitches, her moans and sighs filling his head as he thrust deep. 

They knew it was wrong. She had a new lover, someone she chose, yet it was so right and natural. As he moved inside her, he felt her body wrapping around him, holding him close. 

“Enver…”

For the first time since she returned, she called him his name. He froze. His breath caught in his throat, and his body tensed. It was everything he could have asked for. He needed it, hearing her call him again with his name,  just like before. Him and her, nothing else matters. 

He let out a soft moan, pushing himself further inside her, his breath coming in short, quick gasps. 

“Enver…” The spark has become a flame. He could feel her body respond to him just like she did before. 

“Say it again.” He whispered, moving back and forth, holding her by the waist in one hand, the other holding her head. “Tell me my name again.” 

“Enver… You are Enver.”

He groaned into her mouth, savoring how his name rolled out of her tongue. All those years he had waited, melting into oblivion as they moved in rhythm. Their rhythm. 

“Again, just one more time.” He whispered, his voice trembling. Gods, he wanted more. He needed more time with her. “Say it again, please.”

Tears started rolling down her eyes again as she closed them. As if she could finally remember pieces of their time together, she whispered once again.

“Enver…”

When she said his name this time, he pulled her in deep. He wanted to be as close as possible, to absorb every moment. Holding her tight, he kissed her cheeks, tear-strained and warm. “You were mine, and I was yours.”

When they finally reached their release, he lay beside her. Just as their breath returned to normal, the aftermath crept up on him. He has been unfair, using her vulnerability in that moment. A wave of shame slapped him.

“I need time to think.” 

She started to get up, quietly fixing her dress. She didn’t look at him as he watched her move away from him. “Can you stay for a little longer?”

“He will look for me when he roused from his trance.”

“A few minutes couldn’t hurt, could it?” He smiled slightly. He didn’t want her to go. He wanted more time no matter what she decided, whether she chose him or her lover. Time that was stolen from them. She pondered for a moment and slumped back quietly beside him. 

“You have my gratitude.” 

Silence once again took over. The two of them sat quietly as his heart broke into tiny more pieces. “Can you promise me that you’ll at least try to remember? That maybe one day, there’s a chance, too, that we will be reunited.” 

“That’s too much you are asking.”

“You are not answering my question.”

She didn’t respond. And yet, she continued to look at him. Eyes wild, looking for signs of deception. “You are not going to say it, are you?” 

“I can’t. But I’ll keep it in mind.”

He let her go. He was watching as she walked back to her camp, not looking back at him. He let the silence settle in, stretching between them as she faded away from his view. He’d had to do the hardest thing he did all those years ago: wait. He would wait all the hours, all the days. He would wait again and hope for her to come back. 

[makoodles]

Just imagine, I know that we always put Tsu'tey's daughter in a more na'vi focused way, bit how it would be like if the girl, while growing up, takes a little more in her sanok's culture, like, the girl is just hearing music in these headphones, that the mechanic area of the human base was thrilled to do for her to see the results of a sun battery in those, across the village in large shorts, a really big black t-shirt with a very much punk logo on it that looks like a murderer used it and heavy boots that could be used by some recoms at some point, how would Tsu'tey live with his little girl, the light of his life, living so close to other humans and the culture? Of course she still uses na'vi clothes if there is an important event or so, but then on she is using those clothes and, to Tsu'tey horror, a large variety of black or red clothes that very much look like blood was sprayed on them, her unruly and unkept hair doesn't help her situation.

Mom and Spider just let her be, big bro even keeps encouraging her to be herself because he is always going to help her from others that make fun of her (even when she surpassed his height long ago).

Or worst yet to Tsu'tey, that his little girl gets slowly, and horrifyingly, close to this young male human that was born like spider in the human base.

I can totally see Jake saying something along the lines of "she really is yours, alright" before Tsu'tey is this 🤏 close to punch him in the face when the girl returns to the village with a smug face after giving her love interest fresh fish that she, alone and by herself!, Caught for him, of course the human kid just sees the basket of fish without knowing what to do with it or why she gave it to him, genes are strong and Tsu'tey's daughter only frowns with apparent disgust (she is just a shy girl) at him so he is worried that she may put something strange in the fish and doesn't know what to do because now the, pretty much scarier, dad of that same girl comes to the base to take the fish for his family not before hissing to the poor boy that doesn't know shit of na'vi courting ways or this difficult family of warriors.

Reader and Spider can only see how the teenager girl fights with her father because that basket wasn't for them but for another person, she still thinks that no one knows about his little crush when almost half the village knows (it was Jake's fault)

ahahahah this is so cute! i can imagine her and kiri being best friends, so adorable

tsu'tey and jake would be the number one confused but supportive girl dads

[themonstrousmenagerie]

*✧.The Starwalker of the steppes part 1 *✧.

CW: dehumanization, past amputation, painful restraints

Monsoon fell asleep, or rather went unconscious, a few steps after entering the room. The show master said something about an upcoming show and slammed the doors, burying the stable box in almost complete darkness. At first, Borealis would rush over to his friend’s side to help him get comfortable after training, but as of recently, the elf would cuff him in the corner of the box, unable to lay down when his hands were painfully raised over his head for hours at the time, to make him unable to run or hurt anyone approaching the two centaurs.

But they didn’t have to bind Monsoon. No matter what the trainers did, the smaller hybrid wouldn’t fight back, eyes dull and empty when he listened to every command. He lost the spark alongside his arms. He never told Borealis how that happened. But from off comments of the teasing from the show master, he knew that it was a punishment to make him more compliant and dependent, to break him. 

And it did. It did break him. Borealis was barely able to make him talk, a whispered ‘yes’ or ‘no’ if asked directly. He would give him food, help him lay on the hay to sleep, and brush his hair and tail during the long hours when neither of them could sleep. Only then the bigger centaur ever saw Monsoon cry. A few quiet drops on an otherwise blank face covered in bruises. 

That is until the show master began tying his arms up. For the hours that the broken hybrid spent lying near the entrance of their box, Borealis could only talk and fruitlessly yank on the ropes, trying to help his catatonic friend. 

It was supposedly a punishment for not listening to commands. Bucking if anyone tried to get on his back. Kicking, biting, and scratching anyone who got close. But it didn’t discourage the show master. Then only smiled, a predatory grin that showed too many teeth, and said they enjoyed the challenge. Monsoon was too easy to break.

Borealis spent the night sleeplessly, trying to make his friend stand up and get something to drink. To not lay on the cold floor. To show that he still had the will to live. But Monsoon just lay there, the long ears only twitching when he talked to him. Empty, blue eyes looking into nothingness, his short hair messy, unkept, and wet from the sweat, just like his dark fur. 

After a few hours, the shouts of people entering the circus made it obvious that it was the day of the show. Countless steps, the Menagerie’s workers, cries of other creatures trapped in this hellish place merged into one big cacophony, loud enough that Borealis missed when the show master stepped in front of their box.

The doors opened, blinding Borealis for a few moments. He winced as a kick was smalled into Monsoon’s unprotected belly, making the centaur try to move from the way. 

“You’re lucky little one” Their voice was quiet and carried a twisted version of a caring murmur “But you’re not coming out today. They want to see how new monsters are trained” They raised their singular eye toward Borealis with a sick flicker amusment, two other people entering the room after them. But the elf approached first. 

Without any room for movement, Borealis tried to back as far as the ropes let him. The show master had something hidden behind their back and it never meant anything good.

“We can’t let anyone get hurt, I’m sure you understand” The sound of clinking metal, the item was revealed to be a bridle with a bit. The centaur huffed, his ears pulled back, teeth bared. The elf barely dodged the front hooves when he began rearing, trying to get them away. It didn’t faze them, timing their movement so they had their hands on his face when he had to drop down. Borealis tried to bite them instead. However, a quick shove of fingers into his mouth made him gag, opening his jaw for long enough for the metal bite to be forced between his teeth, pining his tongue down and keeping his mouth shut under the bridle. Soon enough two pieces of leather secured the item to his face, making it bite into his skin, unable to say anything or even unclench his jaw. 

The sudden drop of the ropes made him stumble when both of his arms dropped down after hours of the uncomfortable position over his head. Those two were too quickly secured behind his back, making him unable to fight back. The smooth floor made it impossible to brace his front legs when he was pulled by the bridle outside the box. With three trainers around he had no way of escaping. He would wait until it was only him and the show master. Even if he decided to cooperate for now, he didn’t spare the man who walked behind him to braid his tail a strong kick, for which he was struck across his back with a colorful whip, the sound of which made his seize up. 

“Oh you look gorgeous” The elf waved away their helpers, looking at the centaur with both hunger and sick amusement. They forced his tail into a thick braid covered with solver brands in the shape of stars. His back, even so slightly lighter than his ebony black legs, which were wrapped in leather strips to show off his muscles, was covered in a soft material, almost like a blanket or coat, secured uncomfortably around the base of his limbs. “The patrons will love you”. 

TAGLIST: Taglist: @whumpsday @firapolemos05 @sodascribbles @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @crypticidentity @mothmxwhump @enigmawriteswhump @bees-among-the-okami @delicateprincepaper @struggling-bloody-artist

[comechaseme]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆.

𝘬𝘢𝘪 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘹 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳.

—

..playing "sweet nothing" by taylor swift.

kai’s heart was absolutely taken aback. it has been ages since he’d ever let someone into his fractured heart. he has not been the best in the romance aspect of his story.

he was truly bewildered when y/n rudely entered his life. his way of loving was unique, wether it’s romantically or platonically. his love is .. strong.

all throughout his life, kai has always been asked quiet a lot in his romantic relationships. he’d always happily give whoever he loved anything they ask but after a little while, his unkept anger interfered.

however, this was different. this was unknown.

"kai," the fire ninja looked behind him at y/n. he held up a tiny pebble that was oddly shaped and coloured. "we picked it up last july. i found it in my pocket."

y/n looked so excited about such a little thing. kai’s heart fluttered. he has been fighting villains and only ever seeing violence that this sort of purity astonished him.

every day when he fights villains, they always say the end is coming. in kai’s eyes, no ones trusted, everyone’s up to something.

one day, on the way home, kai was rambling about how his missions and what he was up against throughout the years, y/n looked up at him with a lovable gaze. he always talks about these things in such a proud manner that amused y/n.

after kai told y/n about one of his successful attempts at saving the day, "what a mind." y/n said. kai looked back at him and smiled, this happens all the time.

even after being together for so long, kai still have voices that always implore, "you should be doing more." but he knows that the only one he can take his walls down and say how he’s actually just too soft for all of this,

and y/n never wanted anything in return. he loved kai with no conditions whatsoever.

industry disruptors, smooth-talking hucksters, out glad-handing. kai always found himself running home to y/n’s sweet nothings,

kai stared at y/n and his only thought was, 'all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing'.