#brought texture and screaming color

[lawrites]

Rubens Can Suck It!!

Sweet Gotham S1! Edward Nygma x Plus Size! Female Reader

You are having an awful day when someone leaves a note on your desk, describing your figure. It sets you off, and Ed is the one who seeks to comfort you.

This fic features a LOT of insecurities, specifically around being plus size. It talks about the feeling of being seen by others and how shitty some officers at the GCPD are. But Ed is sweet. No warnings beyond that EXCEPT some dirty thoughts from Ed 👀.

It's been an awful morning and it's only 8 AM.

As a woman who works in a field primarily made up of men, especially a plus size woman, you have made your confidence into your armor. Yeah some of the officers could be pigs, (most of them, actually), but you do love your body and how it looks, so it doesn't bother you.

You enjoy wearing bold colors, pretty dresses, structured pant suits, and even pencil skirts to work most days. They make you feel infallible, and you KNOW you look cute in them. No matter what those tiny men say, you can get through the day feeling good.

And usually...it works. There are some days that you think everyone struggles with their looks, no matter their size. It's what happens when your society is constantly screaming "YOU CAN BE BETTER BUY THIS PRODUCT" at you from all angles.

And so, while you are beating yourself up for letting your confidence slip, you decide to go ahead and make yourself more comfortable while you get it back. Especially because trying to force it wasn't working.

Every glance in the mirror was followed by a critical voice, today. Your hair just didn't sit right, your chosen outfit was too tight and the textures were bothering you, and the high heels you sometimes wear would clack and bring eyes to you. All of that sounded just...exhausting, especially when you just want to get through the day and go home without drawing any attention to yourself.

While usually a pair of eyes on you wouldn't bother you, the thought of Harvey Bullock only staring at your tits when he talks to you, or Jim glancing up and down in what he thinks is a subtle way, or any of the officers giggling when you walk by...yeah it would take only one thing to set you off today, you can tell.

So, while it isn't the most flattering outfit you own, you throw your hair into a ponytail and pull an oversized sweater and linen pants on. Comfy, cozy, still professional enough, and properly disguising your body from any eyes, appreciative or insulting.

After that rollercoaster of emotions while you were getting ready, you don't have time to stop for coffee on your way in, which just adds to your mood. And, of fucking course, some guy decided to begin terrorizing Gotham at 7 in the fucking morning, so all public transport is delayed.

You barely manage to get to your desk by 8 AM with no coffee and already in a bad mood. Setting your stuff down, you dig your palms into your eyes, trying to fight off the urge to just leave. A small slip of paper in neat handwriting makes you smile just a bit, though.

What is always found on the ground

But never gets dirty?

You struggle for a second, your brain moving at a slow pace thanks to the lack of coffee. That is, until you hear footsteps and something blocks the lights streaming in from the windows. You gasp and turn towards Edward Nygma, who is standing right next to you and casting a...

"Shadow!" You blurt out.

He gives you one of his sweet, tight-lipped smiles and nods. "Correct!"

You force a cheery tone to your voice so you don't spoil his mood. Ed may be a bit...odd, but he is one of your best friends here, and he doesn't deserve to be brought down just because you aren't in a good mood. "Great! How many is that so far, Eddie?"

He immediately recites, "That would be 85 riddles correctly guessed out of 90 I have shared with you. 3 you needed a hint for and 2 you did not solve entirely."

You cross your arms in mock anger. "Hey! I did my best! Those ones were hard. It's almost like you wanted me to fail or something."

He hurriedly scrambles to get the next sentence out, "Oh! Oh I would n-never! I j-just..."

Whoops, guess your bad mood made that "mock" anger sound more like actual anger. You take on a placating tone, "Ed, it's ok! I know you just enjoy riddles. And sometimes that big brain of yours makes up a new one that stumps me."

You laugh, maybe a bit bitterly, now, as your bad mood forces itself to the front again. The next sentence is nearly mumbled, "I mean, it must be difficult, sometimes, making puzzles for someone who isn't as smart as you."

Ed seems confused more than anything, now. "I'm...I'm not sure what brought that on, but writing down riddles for you every morning is f-fun for me!"

You sigh, twirling a pen from your desk in your hand to avoid eye contact. "It's just...it's just one of those days, Ed. I couldn't find an outfit that made me look nice..."

Ed interrupts you with his insistence, but he still stumbles over his words, "B-but you always look n-nice!"

Your smile comes out as a grimace, "You're sweet, Ed, but everyone doesn't think so." You glance around to make sure that your next words aren't overheard. "I know that I can usually brush cruel insults away, because I try to tell myself I'm beautiful..." You choke out the last part of your sentence, cutting yourself off before you get too emotional in the middle of the office.

You get up and decide to leave the main lobby to get some of the shitty coffee from the break room. At least there you could better disguise the tears in your eyes. "It's really not a big deal, Ed. I guess I'm just not myself, today. Give it a day or two and I'll be more amusing."

And without waiting for a response, you hurry off.

He stands there awkwardly for a few moments, unsure how to respond to the dismissal you just gave him. Usually the two of you would talk for at least 5 more minutes.

Wracking his brain as he walks away, he tries to think of something to cheer you up.

-----------------------------------------

Rubens

Flashes of his paintings fly through Ed's mind as he attempts to type out a sweet note to you. Every time he gets a glance of a plush thigh or your soft belly, he thinks of how he painted Venus, the Goddess of Beauty.

A voice he's been trying to avoid for a while now pipes up, Yeah, Goddess of only beauty? I'm sure that's all you're thinking about, Ed. How about Goddess of Se-

Ed cuts the voice off before it can finish that thought, but now he is unfortunately thinking about it, even at work. Rubens didn't paint all of his women clothed, especially Venus. Her nude form fuses with yours in Ed's mind, haunting him, taunting him.

There's just...so much he can play with. Your body...so much he can sink his long fingers into. He goes back to your belly, what he has ascertained to be the main source of your insecurity. He empathizes with that, but all he can think of whenever you wear something tight is bending you over in the medical lab on site and holding onto that plush belly as he-

Again, he cuts himself off. He would like to think that the other voice took over again there, but those thoughts were all him. He adjusts himself a bit as he sits at his desk, trying to be subtle.

Then he looks back at the screen in front of him, remembering your mood today, and that hits him like a bucket of cold water. He curses the tears in your eyes from old insecurities popping up again. He has seen you become more and more confident in your time at the GCPD, learning to ignore the pigs that giggle at everything that isn't "normal" to them.

Ed knows that feeling, and especially the taunts from those cops, well. He's off, to them. He never quite knows when to start or end a conversation, and he injects his interests even when he knows people are tired of them.

And that's why he likes (loves) you. You always smile and try with his riddles. You even continue to talk to him after, and are interested in who he is outside of work! That's rare. And if he could return that joy you have given him every day, it would be worth it for the possibility of you figuring out his true thoughts.

Unfortunately, while he has a mind for riddles, analytics, and all things mathematical, he has not been as blessed with poetry. So he wants to type this out...if nothing else than to keep you from feeling like you owe him something.

He types and deletes and types and deletes, looks at the clock, drums his fingers on the desk, and then types slowly this time. Reading it over, he nods at what he has written. It's not amazing, but he hopes it will make you feel like there are people in the office that are on your side, maybe even a secret admirer.

-------------------------------------

And now you're soaking wet. You just wanted to escape your desk and get a simple sandwich and the sky decided that it was a perfect time to begin a deluge right before you got back to the GCPD building. Why? God hates you, apparently. There's no other explanation that would satisfy your overdramatic mind at this point in time.

Luckily you managed to keep your precious food dry by stuffing it under your coat, but the rest of you is definitely not so lucky. You huff and start towards your desk. Bullock sees you on the way, starts a sentence of some sort, (most likely to quip at your condition), but the glare you send his way shuts him up immediately.

You end up collapsing at your desk and peeling off your outer coat, feeling the air conditioning of the building start to combine with your wet clothes to make a chill seep into your bones. Trying to ignore it but unable to suppress a shiver, you place your food on your desk...wait...is that? It is! Someone left a little typed note to you under the bag.

You pick up the note, giving it a quick glance to see if there was anything to connect it to someone. There are no initials or name...hmmm.

Your eyes read over the words on the page once...twice. And your heart shatters. How could...why would...how could someone be so heartless that they would taunt you today of all days?

There is a group of those rude, awful officers that like to congregate together around the water cooler, gossiping and laughing at anyone who wasn't them. But right now, one of them is talking while looking directly at you, and when he stops he throws his head back in laughter, with the rest following.

Holding back a sob, you crumple the letter in your hand and get out of the room as fast as you can without running. As soon as you are out of their sight, tears start streaming down your face and you run to a nearby empty room. It doesn't even matter what it is, you just care that it's empty and safe and lock the door behind you, collapsing against a wall and trying to catch your breath as you gasp for air.

You hold that position for only about 30 seconds, trying to muffle your sobs so they couldn't be heard by anyone outside, but apparently you weren't quiet enough. A quiet knock sounds on the door.

Tap tap tap

You do your best to school your voice, but it still comes out shaky as you reply "Please find another room."

But the voice that filters through the door is one you recognize well.

"Y-you looked cold, so I brought you an emergency blanket. Oh! And a-also your lunch."

You let out a sob, unable to stifle it. "T-thank you, Ed." And you walk over to the door to unlock it, opening it just a tad so he can't see your state.

But Ed is observant, and even with what little you present to him, he can see you are massively upset. Your eyes are bloodshot, and you are trembling, whether from the cold or from your current emotions, that he can't tell. He tries his best to gather some courage.

"W-would you mind if I sat with you for l-lunch?" He holds up your bag of food and you notice that his own lunch is clasped in his hand behind it.

Quickly, you try to consider if you are ready to fully cry in front of Ed, but his kind, if nervous, smile and his own insistence on joining you made you certain that he wouldn't be too judgemental.

You turn your head to the side to try and hide it a bit more as you step back to open the door. Your arm sweeps over to gesture to where you were sitting. "Be my guest, Mr. Nygma."

This makes him let out a nervous chuckle, but he enters anyway. You close the door behind him and lock it.

"I hope you don't mind, I just don't want anyone to see me...well..."

He nods, "That is perfectly understandable."

You both stand awkwardly for a few moments, but you eventually feel the floor calling to you again, so you nestle against the wall where you previously had collapsed. Ed slowly settles down at a respectable distance from you, his gangly limbs shuffling until he finds a comfortable position.

When he hands you your bag of food, he decides it's better to talk about what happened than sit in silence. "M-may I ask why you are upset?" You glance at him, and your eyes start to fill with tears again. He hurriedly starts to stutter through another sentence, "Oh! B-but if you p-prefer not to talk about it, t-that's ok!"

You shake your head, glancing down at the floor. "I just...I guess people like to take advantage of you when you're down sometimes, Ed."

You sigh, but begin feeling more angry than sad. "I mean, I've been in a bad mood all day, I got rained on when I was just trying to get some food, and then some asshole leaves me this."

You open your hand to reveal the crumpled note to Ed. He keeps his face as neutral as he can, recognizing it. Oh no, you fucked up, Ed! The voice in his head gleefully taunts.

Your sniffle brings him back, and you look down at the note, spreading it out so you can read it out loud.

"While you are not seen by others as a beauty

I cannot keep myself from glancing at your desk.

Your figure is full, and yet one word sticks truly,

I can only describe you as such: Rubenesque."

Ed ponders over the poem, while a bit rudimentary, it was full of his true compliments to you. But your face crumples when you get to the last word, stuttering it out.

Your eyes look to him, "I mean, Ed! How could someone write this?"

You see his face scrunch in confusion. "I admit, I do not quite understand. I see nothing wrong with the note?"

Feeling frustration well inside of you, you gesture with your hands wildly. "Nothing wrong? It's that word, Rubenesque!! It's an insult, I know it, especially with how those assholes were glancing at me as I read it, laughing once I was done."

Ed seems to be more confused now. "I was not aware it was an insult?"

You nod, and remember all of the times you have heard it in the past, "It's always been used by people who want to try and appear to be kind, but truly aren't. They call me Rubenesque in this snide tone, like it's something they can barely stand to spit out of their mouths."

Ed tries to interrupt, but you continue, softer now. "I just don't know Ed. The whole note seems to be mocking me...calling me full figured and not a beauty. Am I really that bad?" He shakes his head while you feel tears starting again, so you look down at the floor.

Now at a whisper, you barely get out the next words. "I just...I don't even want someone to like me anymore. I just want them to leave me alone." With that vulnerable confession, you sob, and bring your hands to your face, trying desperately to cover it. A shiver runs through you again.

After a few beats, you feel warmth around you, and you glance up to see that Ed has moved closer to cover you with the blanket he brought. His long arms stay in place in a hug after he positions it, keeping you close to him. You are a bit taken aback, as the most that Ed has touched anyone in the past was maybe a handshake.

He leans down so you can hear him, his voice more sure, now, even if it is soft. "Do you know about the painter, Rubens?"

You shake your head. "Is that where the term comes from?" He nods. Not feeling charitable, you grab the blanket and bring it closer around you as you grumble out, "Rubens can suck it."

He lets out a giggle at that, and you feel your heart warm at the noise. "I understand that you feel it is an insult...would you mind if I explain what it really means?"

You nod, because even if it is as bad as you make it out to be, at least you can hear his voice as he explains it.

One of his hands strokes the blanket surrounding you, right on top of your arm. "Rubens painted many different subjects, but the descriptor of Rubenesque usually refers to his nude paintings of women. Specifically, women like Venus."

You lift up your head to look at him. "Venus as in the Goddess of Beauty?"

He nods, gently. "Yes, among...other things." His eyes darken for just a moment before returning to his informative rant. "The women he paints are known to be full-figured, yes, but they are beautiful because of that, in my opinion."

You sit as still as you can, barely breathing, wanting to hear every word he says. A long finger comes under your chin and guides your face until you are looking right at him. "I wrote you that note. I think you are the definition of beauty."

And with that, he brings you gently forward, looking in your eyes the whole time. You let him, and lean forward to meet his lips. The kiss you share is sweet and short, but it fills you with a giddiness that makes you feel like a teen experiencing her first kiss again.

You separate smiling at each other, and Ed reaches up to kiss your forehead. "I apologize for upsetting you. I was trying to be a secret admirer."

You chuckle, "Yeah, well, it didn't help that I read the note as uncharitably as I could." You glance up at him, "I'm sorry for crumpling it up in anger."

He shakes his head. "D-don't apologize. I'll write you as m-many bad poems as you want." One of his long arms slowly moves down, and a finger traces your hip over the blanket. "Is this ok?"

You feel a warmth spark through you again as he makes contact, and all you trust yourself to do is nod. He nuzzles into your neck, whispering in your ear.

"I want you to know, right now, so there is no doubt, I love your body. These hips, your plush belly...even your soft arms." You feel his warm breath on your ear, and it makes you shudder. "They all remind me of art, and they make me want to..."

He trails off, and brings his hand away from your hip quickly, as if burned. You miss his touch, already, and confusedly ask, "What? Ed?"

You can't tell anything from his neutral face, but he gets up, suddenly, grabbing your lunches together again. "Let's find a better place for lunch, more comfortable...maybe with a table."

You nod, standing up with him. As you position the blanket around you, Ed wraps an arm around your waist.

"A-and...if you would like...have dinner with me tonight. I'll cook for you and...tell you more of my thoughts."

Your cheeks heat up, and his do as well. "Ed, I..." You think for a moment. "I'd love to have dinner with you."

He grins at you, again-one of his sappy, closed mouth grins-and leads you out of the room in his embrace. The two of you chat and giggle, seeking out a proper place for lunch and ignoring all of the stares you get. If you have each other, the rest of the world doesn't matter.

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#lawrites #plus size reader #x reader #reader #plus size fic #gotham #gotham x reader #edward nygma x reader #gotham rogues x reader #gotham edward nygma

[wordsbyvani]

König watches an aerial artist... that's all.

He didn’t want to be here. 

An art museum is no place for someone like König. He’s only here for some charity banquet-show with his company as a museum benefactor. Just so happens that he has a high-ranking position and was chosen to represent them for tonight’s event. Usually he can push feelings aside when it comes to work—a routine with which he’s become all too familiar—but this is different.

He likens himself to a bull in a china shop: one wrong move and delicacy shatters around him. Surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands, of pieces that are the epitome of elegance and meaning. Sure, he knows the meanings and concepts behind the works, can recognize the finery. But it’s the opposite of all that he is: rough, brazen, vulgar. Somehow, pictures in frames, sleek statues, and the refined viewers gracing the halls make him feel as though he’s a laughing stock of sorts. All eyes, be they crafted or alive, are on the giant bathing in blood and souls.

Yes, there are pieces depicting violence, war, despair. But it’s too sophisticated, too dignified. The crimson doesn’t smell metallic, doesn’t pool at his feet. The figures don’t scream and wail and hurl curses, faces twisted with disdain. Perhaps scenes brought to life for the masses but dull for those who’ve lived them.

He rips himself away from the endless halls of mockery to take his seat before the show starts. The program shoved into his hands on the way in says something about an aerial artist—great, more art. An announcer beckons everyone to settle in; the show is about to begin. The lights hit, the spotlight on, and it rains red. And through a tidepool of scarlet and dramatic musical accompaniment, she is born.

Gliding on the wings of a phoenix, she turns to ashes as she spirals and twirls, only to grab the burning feathers of evanescence and propel herself up once more. A baby bird, naked and needy, morphs into a godlike inferno. Sparks, flames, colors. Determination. A cycle of death and rebirth unfolding before his very eyes, in the midst: her.

She morphs with the art around her. The dull works of elegance with which he just couldn’t resonate abandon stagnancy to dance all around; their colors, shapes, textures a tornado swirling to embody the main star of the show.

The musical accompaniment softens, and she stills—a phoenix no more. He recognizes only the underbelly of a black widow, dangling from pheromone-laced silk. Lustful eyes set a fixed gaze as she hangs, enticing him to partake readily.

If he accepted, would she strike? Paralyzed by venomous fangs, spinning, encased in the prison of her bloody trap. Or would she allow him to scale her web, ripping away the silks and traces of rivals as he climbed to reach her? Silently begging as he covers her body to let him consume, devour, before she has had her fill and disposes of him—his purpose served, a body needed no more. He would gladly accept such a fate for merely a taste.

Then she descends. Slowly, head thrown back in ecstasy, the silks creating ripples that cascade in a whirlpool around her. He restrains himself from reaching out, an arm that would tear the fabric from the rafters, waiting for her to fall into the welcome embrace of his arms and never let go.

The trance is broken when she touches the ground, the audience roaring with applause. A humble grin graces her face as she bows, waving and blowing kisses to her adoring spectators. For a brief moment, her eyes fall upon him, and something flickers. With a tilt of her head and curiosity in her eyes, her smile widens. A kiss is blown directly at him with a cheeky wink.

Perhaps he does enjoy fine art after all.

#könig #drabblez

[mishwanders]

• Fierce Deity • Rain •

Summary: The Fierce Deity falls into the hands of someone who isn’t afraid of him.

Genre/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Minor cooking accident (slight burn that gets taken care of) GN!Reader. Minors DNI with this one.

Author’s Notes: I am so soft for the fierce deity, so I was COMPELLED to write for him. This fic was written by Mishwanders. Do not take or repost it anywhere as your own.

The Fierce Deity was not used to the kindness of others. Even before he had been subjected to the curse of the mask, he was more often than not met with the sharpness of bared teeth and blades, the touch of cold steel and greedy hands desperately reaching him, leaving him only with the sting of battle that dug into his bones.

As the turn of time drew on, he found himself growing weary of it. Even if his deeds were of noble intent - to protect the people of the land no matter the cost - someone always found a way to manipulate his honest intentions, breaking down his resolve little by little, tainting his view and his faith in those who lived in this realm. He truly thought all hope might have been lost for them all, but that was before he met you.

It was just by chance that you’d stumbled upon the place where he had last been hidden, picking up his mask out of the darkness and pulling him into the light. You had looked at him curiously, seeing how worn down the mask was, the marks on its face having faded, the wood cracking from the years of wear and tear. As you stared at him, wondering how it could have ended up behind a rock outside in the forest, he was staring back up at you, taking in all the details of your face, how the sun crowned your head, adorning you in its light. You looked like a shining gem to him and he was certain that he saw you in his fate from that point on.

After that, you had brought the mask into your home with the intention of fixing it, unaware of the power the mask or who it contained. You handled it with care, gently cleaning off the smudges of dirt from the surface, gluing the cracks, buffing the rough textures and edges away, mending the tattered hat, and even repainting the color back onto it. It was the first time in a long time that the Fierce Deity had ever felt the vigor of life be restored to him, it was the first time he’d ever felt so cared for by anyone in his life. You didn’t have to do any of it, but you had done it out of the goodness of your own, never expecting anything in return, and that had done more than restored what little hope he had left in this place and its creatures.

In turn for the care he listened intently to every word that you spoke, every song that you hummed, every story that you told him, what you liked and disliked. You talked to the mask as if you knew he was really there, as if he were a friend. He reveled in learning more about you and your life, and found himself developing a desire to protect you, to protect the kindness you had, to protect the joy that emanated off of you.

He wanted nothing more than to come to life and let you know who he really was, to pledge his allegiance to you, to speak the words through his sealed lips.

He wanted you to know that he cared about you, but being bound to his curse, he was unable to break past the wooden barrier by wishes alone. So, he waited patiently, making a home on your mantle, watching over you, awaiting for the day that the possibility of breaking his curse could arise.

That day did arrive, in the most unexpected of ways. He heard you scream in agony and feared the worst. His desperation to come to your aid was strong, his need to protect you breaking the bounds of the seal of his curse, and just like magic, he felt himself changing. The mask flew off the mantle and onto the wooden floor below, his body reshaping behind it. When his body was fully reformed, he pushed himself off the ground and made his way quickly to you to see how exactly you needed his aid.

He found you in the kitchen, holding your hand, your eyes tightly shut from the pain. He examined you with his white eyes, making sure there were no other issues, and then a glance around the room to see if there was a perpetrator of your pain. When you opened your eyes again you froze in place, looking up at him in shock, trying to figure out how the mask you owned had turned into a man in your kitchen. He looked back down at you with a look of worry. He held out his hand to you, offering to help.

You shook your head. “It’s nothing - I just burned my hand on the cooking pot. I just need a potion -”

He quickly left the room to grab the bottle of potion and returned, pulling out a chair for you to sit down on. He settled down on one knee to be at your level, tending to the wound and wrapping it up in a bandage. You watched him as he silently took care of you, feeling the sensation of his fingertips over your skin. He did not feel like he was made of wood, but out of flesh and bone, as if he had always existed like this. When he was finished he looked back up at you and you couldn’t help but ask if he were real.

“Are you actually here?”

He nodded in response and brought your hand up to his face, allowing you to touch his cheek. It felt just as human as his fingers had. You studied him further, allowing your fingers to move over to the marks that were no longer sealed in paint, but in his skin. You then gently moved to the edges of his face, feeling for the break in the seal of the mask, but you noticed it was nowhere to be found.

He was really here. He had always been here behind the mask without your knowing.

That’s when you realized he truly must have seen and heard everything that you did since you'd brought him here - a thought that caused your face to heat up. You quickly moved your hand away from him and gave him an apologetic smile.

“I - uh - thanks for the help.” You stated, “If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you been here? Or rather, how long have you been sentient?”

Your questions were met with silence and it puzzled you to the point of worry. “Can you speak? Did I accidentally glue your lips shut when I was fixing you?”

You reached your hand over to his lips to make sure you hadn’t, but he stopped you, wrapping his hand around your wrist to prevent you from getting any closer. He then moved his hand to hold yours in his own, gently kissing the knuckles of your wounded hand. His forwardness took you by surprise, but not as much as the sound of his voice.

“Do you wish for me to speak?”

It was otherworldly, almost booming throughout the kitchen, but it still somehow sounded human. There was a sense of gentle power within it, as well as within every action he made towards you.

You nodded in response. “I do. How did you - I mean how were you - what happened to the mask?”

“I heard your plea for help. I wanted to protect you, so I appeared in this form to come to your aid.” He explained

You laughed nervously, “So I take it you heard me scream then? I’m sorry for worrying you, it was just a measly cooking burn.”

He looked up at you, his eyes unwavering as you spoke. You guessed it must not have been a small thing to him. You tried to move the conversation to something else.

How did you become the mask? Have you always been like that?”

As you spoke you felt something darken around him, seeing him grow more solemn. You attempted to back track, to try and save the conversation as you apologized. “I’m sorry, is that a tender subject?”

He shook his head. “No, you are quite alright. I was cursed by the goddesses for a deed I can no longer remember, bound to the mask for it. I was not always like this, I was once a fierce war god.”

“So a Fierce Deity, then? It must be quite a surprise for you to find yourself here then.” You replied, “I had no idea about your curse or that you even existed.”

“It’s alright, not many know now in this time, not as many as they had before. I actually quite enjoy your life. It’s quiet, filled with more joy and less suffering.” He responded

“So you don’t mind it?” You asked

“I like it.” He said, “At first it was odd, I didn’t understand, but the more you took care of me, I began to learn that it was something I needed.”

You looked at him with surprise as he spoke. You never expect a fierce war deity to need a life like yours, but maybe there was a reason for it. You felt safer having the mask around, a certain feeling of protection would come over your home when it was in your presence. Now, you understood why it felt that way - he was the reason for it.

“Well, I know I said it already, but thank you for your help.”

His expression changed, he looked at you with happiness at the sound of your words. “It’s alright, I want to protect you.”

You felt the heat burning your cheeks again as he spoke, a bit of selfish joy at his words rising in your chest. Yes, these were some of the oddest of circumstances this could have happened in, but it was nice knowing that there was someone else looking out for you, nonetheless wanted to. So, you both decided to make the most out of it.

It was a rocky start to say the least, one that you both would soon come to learn how to approach the other, smoothing out the communication as your time together drew on. The more time you spent together, the more he opened up to you, his hardened exterior slowly being chipped away at by your ever present kindness. The more he stayed with you, the more you grew comfortable in his presence, never fearing him and the power that he held in his hands, the destruction that they could cause, that they had caused.

It felt as if you two were meant to find each other, in some way. You both filled in the empty spaces that the other had. You both craved the care and the protection, to have someone who could reach through the pain and the fear, someone who had the courage to draw the other out of their shell, in a way that no one else could.

You quickly found yourself in the midst of it, in the midst of each other, blurring the lines of each other, filling the empty spaces both emotional and physical. The Fierce Deity hovered over you, his soft lips trailing along the edge of your jaw, down your neck, feeling your quickening pulse under your skin. He listened to the gasps and gentle moans that left you, filling the air like the praise for the way he worshiped you, the way his hips met with yours, the way he drew the pleasure out of you. He relished in the way you looked, how your lips were parted, the way your chest heaved, the way your body moved in tune to his, the way the lightning flashed through the window and danced on your skin, making his precious gem glow once again. He was completely enraptured in you, tangled up in you as if he were in a trance.

He felt your arms wrap around him, holding him closer to you as you whisper in his ear. “Kiss me again.”

He didn’t hesitate to answer your request. Fierce’s lips were quickly on yours like the mouth of a wolf wrapped around its prey. His tongue delving past your lips, tasting you, drinking you in like holy water that he knew could cleanse him with pleasure, washing out the coarse salt of time and shame from him. Your love left like the rain on his skin, casting the pain of loneliness he’d felt for so long like dust into nothing, making him feel as if he were in pure bliss.

Your hands moved, entangling in his white locks, your legs wrapping around him, pushing him deeper inside of you. A moan broke past your throat and through your lips to his as you melted into him, finding yourself lost in his every movement, into each and every delicate touch. Even as he ravaged you, drawing out your pleasure, he still touched you tenderly with his war torn hands.

“Fierce -” Your voice broke through the moans, pleading, begging for him.

His ears perked up at the sound of it, and he leaned in closer to you, his voice coming as a low whisper in your ear, “Hm? What is it, my gem?”

“Please, please don’t stop.” You begged

He smiled against your skin, placing another kiss on your ear before whispering, “I don’t intend to.”

He continued his pace, sliding in and out as he pulled your hands away from him, pinning them above your head, down to the soft surface of the bed. He peered down at you, his eyes trailing along the length of your body, taking in every last piece of it to his memory, solidifying it.

“You look wonderful, my gem.” He praised

You loved it when he called you his, the way he looked at you, the way he held you. It was as if he were ready to devour you, to consume you, making you one with him. You knew how much he desired you, his every word and touch made it clear just how badly he wanted you, how he craved you. He was all consuming, his passion as befitting as his name - Fierce. Your hands gripped tightly to his own as you felt yourself coming undone at the seams for him, your back arching up off the bed for him as your pleasure reached its peak, losing yourself within the waves of it, as he watched.

He didn’t stop there though, for as soon as he knew you had been fulfilled, he took to pleasuring himself with you. His hands moved away from your own and instead slid down your body until they reached your hips. He pulled your hips up in line with his, making sure you were in the perfect position to take him. You gripped on tightly to the sheets around you, feeling his pace quicken, your body shaking at the sheer strength behind each thrust. Your voice grew louder as he continued to pleasure himself with you, unable to string together a coherent sentence amidst it, but he didn’t mind, he liked having you like this, pliable in his hands. You were so perfect in his eyes, the way you felt around him, against him, the way you said his name through your cries of pleasure. He knew it wouldn’t take him long to reach his peak, to feel his resolve breaking. You could easily draw that out of him, even if you didn’t realize it.

He praised you, his words broken in between moans, with each thrust. “M-My - precious - ah gem. You feel s-ssoo good.”

You returned the same, with a simple request. “P-Please - ngh - cum for me!”

His grip tightened on your hips as he thrusted harder into you for a moment longer before he finally broke. He felt the pleasure coursing through him and his hips slowly stuttered against your own as he filled you. Fierce collapsed over you from the wave of it, feeling himself slowly descending down from the pure ecstasy he felt. As he drew closer, you released the sheets and moved your hands to his face, pulling him in for one last breathless kiss. You both stayed that way for a bit until he finally decided to pull out, groaning into it. You pulled away, allowing him to rest his forehead against yours, peering up into his eyes. You gently thumbed over the red marks on his cheek, looking at him with all of the adoration in the world, unable to convey how much you loved him through words alone. He knew how to make you feel just as loved in return, as if you two were the only ones in the world that existed, as if the only moments that truly mattered were the ones he had with you.

He knew how to cleanse you with pleasure, washing over you like the rain.

#spicy writing: fierce deity #fierce deity link #fierce deity x reader #fierce deity #I can project my religious trauma on him and make it so sexy #legend of zelda fanfiction #legend of zelda fic #loz fanfic #loz fic #mdni #fierce deity x you #lu fierce deity #legend of Zelda x you #legend of zelda x reader

[throwaway-yandere]

Paint (Kaveh/Reader Drabble)

a/n: not a yandere fic, i'm just a kaveh simp who cant focus on pe midterms lol. Sorry i didn't draw anything like usual– this is literally just something i wrote like 7 minutes tops lmao

-------

"What... Exactly are you doing, Master Kaveh?"

"Ever heard of rapid hardening cement?"

"Not really, no."

"Well, you're about to find out what it is." 

Kaveh peeled off the straw-like material from the solid concrete, revealing the final product of his casual 2-hour-long project. It was a miniature house, adorned with bricked textures and tones. Something at this level is mere child's play to him, but to everyone else? It's quite a masterpiece, not even his roommate can refute that statement or criticize his work. The light of the Kshahrewar honestly never ceases to dazzle and amaze you.

"That looks fantastic…"

Kaveh shrugged. "Eh, can't say I agree. It's a bit too basic for my standards– I'm quite indifferent about the results."

"Still doesn't make it any less great for everyone else." You were awed, unable to tear your eyes away over what he called a 'basic' project.

Kaveh's expression softened. "Thank you."

He quickly looked back at his model. "A-Anyways, the only thing that would complete it now is a bit of color. Are you good at art, (Y/n)?" 

"On the contrary, no." You sighed. "The only art form I practice are social dances, and I presume you meant a more visual display?"

"Unfortunately yes." Kaveh frowned. "Anyone else you know I could ask?"

"There's the traveler but..." You muttered inaudibly, not wanting to bother her with the eccentric architect's antics. "No, I don't."

"Well, why don't I teach you how to paint?" Kaveh smiled. "Come, sit beside me. It's a fun exercise! It'll help you act a little less rigid."

"Rigid...?"

"Yes." Kaveh nodded solemnly. "I pity the victims who had such sparks of creativity die so easily between the rough hands of the corporate and cold life. (Y/n), you act like such a grandmother that I sincerely did not believe you when you told me we were roughly the same age."

"W-Well, the Akademiya never taught us this so–"

"We're gonna change that today."

Kaveh brought up his painting materials. There were posted paints, glitter, fake grasses, and–

There's not a single paintbrush.

"Kaveh, I'm afraid you don't have a brush. Might I run to buy you one?"

"What? Who said we're using brushes? I make and break the rules of architecture around here."

Kaveh pulled your hand, his fingers locking with yours. His hands were warm. With a youthful smile, he forced you to sit beside him. He hastily grabbed a capped red paint, before pointing at the roof. But you can't seem to focus on the task at hand– how can you, when his face looked so aesthetically pleasing?

This man...

He set this whole thing up perfectly.

"Today's mission is to bring back the childlike wonder in your eyes– you'll find out what a joy it is to finger-paint!"

—--

The next day, Alhaitham comes back to his desk carrying a large pile of paperwork, not knowing where to put it as he mentally screamed at his roommate for making his workplace more paint and glitter-filled than last time.

"I swear– I'm going to take both keys the next time he asks them out."

#kaveh x reader #kaveh genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact kaveh #alhaitham #ansy-writes

[iicheeze]

THAT TIME I GOT REINCARNATED AS A MUSHROOM MAIDEN

SUMMARY || Congratulations, you're dead! You got hit by Taxi - kun and died from blood loss. Now, you're awoken at a dark cave that was only lit by a single, huge mushroom in the center. As many cute little.. mushrooms? surround you. Hold on, was your head always this heavy?

PAIRINGS || Genshin Impact Cast x Female Implied Reader

TW || asian aunty personalities, and ur head having a big lump (its ur mushroom head thingy)

TTIGRAAMM MASTERLIST

CHAPTER I — WHY IS MY HEAD SO HEAVY?!?! AND WHY ARE THESE CUTE THINGS SURROUNDING ME?!?! AND WHY ARE MY FEET NOT WET WHEN I STEP ON WATER?!?!?

Droplets of water woke you up from your deep slumber, along with little... hands? tickling your cheek.

Opening your eyes, you see cute little blue mushrooms with eyes and tiny feet surrounding you. Yet, you also noticed where you woke up.

A giant, dark cave with a humongous, glowing mushroom in the middle, with a little river surrounding the mushroom.

Trying to wake up, your head can't help but feel...

Heavy????

“ What the- WHAT THE FUCK?!?! ” The noises you let out doesn't sound humane, yet it sounds like bubbles. Wait. Are you even human?!?!

Looking at your hands, feeling your face. You sure do feel human. But what's concerning you, is what the fuck is at your head.

“ Great Maiden! ” One of the tiny mushrooms bubbled(?), “ YOU GUYS CAN SPEAK?!?!?! ” You screamed, backing away from them.

“ Oh no! Great Maiden! Please don't be scared! ” The other tiny mushroom bubbled out, showing concern. “ Why are you calling me Great Maiden...?? ” You can't help but be confused.

The tiny mushrooms looked at each other, before looking at you.

“ You are our Great Maiden that the Xamaran has told us! Xamaran told that once the Great Maiden have come, she will bless us with her wisdom and love! ”

Getting even more confused, you can't help but panic a little.

YOU WERE JUST BORN FOR FUCK'S SAKES, OF COURSE, YOU'RE GONNA PANIC WHEN SOMEONE SAYS THAT YOU'RE THE GREAT MAIDEN THESE MUSHROOMS HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR.

You tried to get on your feet, yet almost falling. But with the help of the tiny mushrooms, it lessens the impact of the fall.

You realized by now, these mushrooms are like... children? And the things on their heads are so soft textured yet so wet.

Finally properly standing up, you realized that you've been sitting on wet mud this whole time. Yet, it doesn't dirty your pure white, and transparent dress.

You noticed that your dress was transparent, yet not enough to show your female genitals. As there's another crop top and... a diaper looking shorts covering it.

Wait a minute. YOU WEREN'T EVEN A WOMAN IN YOUR LAST LIFE. IS IT EVEN OKAY TO LOOK AT YOUR OWN BODY??

“ I know that you guys told me that I'm your Great Maiden, but... I'm not!! I don't even know what am!! ” You spoke to them, yet the tiny mushrooms weren't convinced one bit.

“ The Great Maiden is so humble!! ” “ Don't worry, Great Maiden!! You must be confused of your existence, but our elders will help you find your reason! ”

They kept chanting compliments from their... wait, where's their mouth.

“ Elders?? What do you mea- ” Before you could continue your sentencd, the mushrooms were already pushing you outside the cave, to another. Supposedly, to meet their elders.

Your feet touched the water, yet somehow you didn't fell in it. Instead, walking on it as if it was regular land. Growing even more confused.

JUST WHAT KIND OF WORLD AM IN???

You then arrived into a smaller cave, with the help of the riny mushrooms pushing guiding you. And as it turns out,

THERE'S MORE MUSHROOMS WITH VARIOUS SIZES AND COLORS. AND THE BIGGER ONES LOOK LIKE DINOSAURS???

Wait, what's dinosaurs. Why did it remind me of that.

“ We brought the Great Maiden!! ” The tiny blue mushroom bubbled, as the group of mushrooms dispersed. Leaving you in front of the supposed Elders.

As the green, Elder? mushroom stepped forward, you can't help but feel like they're gonna judge you for not looking like them despite you being the Great Maiden.

But instead,

“ Is this what they call a Maiden for.. the humans? Doesn't look like a beautiful one. Humans have very strange tastes. ”

Your jaw dropped.

Why does it remind you of your aunty from your past life.

“ Well... At least she has her features of a mushroom. Although.. Barely. ” The brown Elder roared. Judging you even further.

THIS IS EVEN WORSE THAN HAVING A HUMAN BODY WITH A MUSHROOM HAT.

“ Can she at least fight? ” “ I don't think so. Xamaran told us that she has only wisdom and love. ” “ ... I see. ” “ At least she has the brains. ” “ Yes, we should be grateful for that. ”

“ EXCUSE ME?? I CAN UNDERSTAND YOU GUYS, YOU KNOW. ” You yelled, imaginary tears forming along with imaginary arrows of Judgement at every angle of your body.

“ It appears to understand us. ” “ IT?? ” “ My apologies, she. ” The Elders suddenly spoke politely, even after shit-talking you.

“ First of all, I don't even know how and where I am. Nor the world I am currently standing on. OR EVEN THE PEOPLE LIVING IN IT. I JUST GOT HERE, FOR ARCHON'S SAKES. ”

Did you just say Archon instead of god.

The Elders were surprised by this sudden outburst. As the green Elder then stepped closer to you.

“ Well, you see. You're currently in a world named Teyvat. Where we ‘ Monsters ’ lay at the bottom of the food chain, whilst the humans lay at the middle. Whereas, the Archons stay at the top, never to change. ”

The three Elders then explained to you of this world called Teyvat, and everyone and everything in it.

But then again, it was so much information. You can't help but feel smoke coming out of your ears.

GODS??? HYDRO??? ELEMENT?? POWER??? WHAT

Lord just give me food and I'll figure things out myself

TAGLIST || @raidenmylove @kokomisimppp @glxssynarvi @iruiji @4leyvn3 @klementime @ayoharuko @lemonp1netree @fauxizs @random-anxeity-dumbass @theblueblub

BOLD MEANS I CAN'T TAG YOU. IF THERE'S ANY CHANGE TO YOUR USERNAME, PLEASE TELL ME!!!

AUTHOR'S NOTES || first chapter lezzgooo SORRY FOR THE DELAY IVE BEEN V BUSY LATELY 😭 i hope u can enjoy tis

#that time i got reincarnated as a mushroom maiden series #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x female reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x female reader #genshin x fem!reader smau #yeo talks #genshin impact x reader fluff

[weepinglilvessel]

If you want songs that fit your au, I might suggest the vocaloid song "BIOHAZARD" by Crusher P.

Some of the lyrics fit really well, in my opinion.

"You can scream as much as you want, I hear you loud and clear, the thought of being alone, fills you with fear. We're gonna end this war, right here and now, this won't go on anymore cause imma bring you. Down." [Could be a mix of suns' and pebbs' perspectives on moon on the edge collapsing]

"Why do you still look at me like I belong to you? Its like you won't let me go no matter what I do, you must be a parasite or some sick disease, your fingers wrapped around my throat, suffocating me." [Could be Pebbs getting fed up with both moon and suns' behaviour, though not likely]

"Predators devour their prey, to nourish their being, but the way you tend to feed off of me's the most vicious thing I've seen. You must be an animal unable to feel, a monster starved for centuries, you've made me your meal" [moon to suns, or pebbs to moon/suns potentially though I think moon to suns fits better due to the unable to feel bit]

"You are my Biohazard Biohazard Biohazard, I am your Biohazard Biohazard Biohazard" [pebbles to both moon and suns most likely, though the I am your Biohazard bit fits well with pebbs to moon specifically]

This little song recommendation was brought to you by chanon [chaos anon]!

BROO! WHY DOES THIS ACTUALLY FIT SO WELL HELLO?

I especially love the second part of the lyrics you gave me. The part with the “You must be a parasite or some sick disease” also reminded me of the rot in some way.

The “predators devour their prey….” part, WOO I definitely get the Moon talking about Suns part in that. With how Suns is in this Au mainly lacking emotions and some what manipulative and Moon SEEING that fits these lyrics so well YIPPEE

Anyways have some art that was inspired by the lyrics:

The shading was hard to do for some reason. I wanted it to be simple yet complex and my brain just overlapped itself.

The background was made in a completely different canvas and exported to this piece, so here it is in full and not covered by edginess XD

Wanted this to kinda give the sort of texture/dull color look like one the Ancient paintings that are in the game with these two. Designing was hard but fun ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Anyways I’m done rambling. If anyone has anymore songs let me know ❤︎︎

#weepingask #rw eclipse au #rw au #rain world au #rain world iterator #rw five pebbles #rw looks to the moon #rw seven red suns #music suggestions #ask response

[dancingdonatello]

So this might be kinda specific but I was wondering if I could get a ride Donnie x reader where the reader is a newly mutated beetle mutant.

Donnie and reader are mutually crushing silently and reader is brought down to the lair reluctantly by April and when Donnie sees reader he tries his best not to freak out.

reader is upset because they hate the way they look but Donnie assures them they look perfect to him and eventually there is some sort of confession?

this is hella specific I apologize. Just an idea i wanted to get out there

donnie x gn mutated reader

“April…” You stared at yourself in the mirror. You reached up to touch your face but you flinched at the sight of your hands. “April.”

“Don’t panic!” She was frantically typing on her phone before she put it up to her ear. “Raph, we’re coming down to the lair right now! You better get Donnie out of his goddamn room so he can take care of this!”

There was a muffled response on the other side.

“I don’t know! They were just in the bathroom and screamed and I came in and now they’re a BUG!”

You still couldn’t believe it. You stared at yourself in the mirror but you couldn’t connect it to yourself. It didn’t matter that this… thing followed your every movement perfectly and even blinked when you did, it wasn’t you. It couldn’t be you.

Why did it have to be a beetle?

There had been a beetle crawling in your bathroom and you had picked it up to put it out the window. But then this even bigger bug came flying in right into your face. You had gone through the most excruciating pain of your life only to end up looking like some sci-fi monster.

“Okay, let’s go!” April took one of your now many arms, visibly shivering at the texture. “No offense, I’m just not... I’ll get over it soon, no worries.”

She led you down to the sewers, but your stomach was cramping up with nerves. What if they attacked you? What if they didn’t recognize you? What if they thought you were ugly and scary? What if Donnie… There was no way you had a chance with him now. Your heart sunk in your chest at the realization.

“Whoa!” Mikey’s voice made you look up from the ground. You and April had arrived. “You were being serious!”

“Why would I lie?” April shook her head. “Nevermind. Where is Donnie?”

“He locked his ‘new and improved’ lab door.” Raph’s voice sounded agitated. “Can’t get ahold of him.”

“You don’t look too bad, brighten up!” Leo said to you. “Donnie’ll figure something out. If not, who cares! You can join our cool mutant family club where we beat up other mutants.”

“I look ugly.” Leo paused, surprised and unsure of what to say.

“Well,” Mikey’s voice cracked, “it looks cool when your… um, skin? When your skin reflects different colors in the light!”

At least he was trying.

A beetle, your mind still couldn’t wrap around it. You could’ve been a tiger or anything. You still would’ve preferred to stay human but you were now a beetle. You would be stuck as a beetle for the rest of your life. You would never see your family again. You could never have a normal life again.

“What is going on?” Donnie’s lab door swooshed open. He had headphones around his neck and was looking at his phone. “April, why did you call me five times? Couldn’t you tell I was busy? What…what?” Then he saw you.

“This is why!” April shook her arms. “If you could’ve just picked up your phone—”

“Who is this?” Donnie’s eyes narrowed, judgmentally scanning your new body. Your form visibly crumbled.

“It’s me…” Donnie’s mouth hung open as he immediately recognized your voice.

“What?! It can’t be, you’re—you’re supposed to be human. That’s not possible! Did you see a large green bug anywhere? Did it bite you?” You shrank back.

“Donnie…” Raph slid over to his brother, bringing down a large and heavy hand onto his shoulder. “In situations such as these, we are supposed to act calm so they don’t freak out.”

“Right…” Donnie slipped out from under his brother’s hand. “Follow me.” He beckoned you over as he walked back into his lab. You followed after him, looking back at the others who each gave you an encouraging look.

You expected him to sit down and get to work, but instead, he handed you a cookie and a water bottle.

“Those were mine but I never ended up eating them.” Donnie nodded at you. “You’ll feel better if you eat. Eating food helps calm people because it tricks their minds. I won’t go into too much detail, it’s not too important right now.”

You then expected him to get to work. It was nice of him to offer food before he got started. But then he just stood there.

“…Aren’t you going to help me?” You asked, your voice wavering. He was so smart, there was no way he’d leave you stuck as a beetle.

“With what? Are you hurt? Do you need help adjusting to your new body?” Donnie’s eyes went to his computer. “I can probably look up beetle information to help you. Your DNA changed, so it’s not unlikely for you to start picking up traits of a beetle.”

“I mean, aren’t you gonna change me back? To a human?”

“Oh. That. There’s… nothing I can do.” Your expression crumbled. He looked a little guilty. “I’ve tried before to make a substance that could reverse the affects. I tried to make it for dad, not for us obviously, but I was always missing something. I could never get it right.”

“So, I’m going to look like this forever?” You shakily crossed a pair of arms over your chest, the second pair awkwardly hanging.

“Well, yes.” He quickly caught onto your tone. “Listen, you’re talking to a turtle mutant. You look fine to us. I can still see your human traits, even if it’s a little harder to see at first. You’re still the same. You don’t think I’m ugly, do you?”

“No… but you’re a turtle. Turtles are cute… beetles are…” You gestured to yourself and refused to look at him. “Six leggy and creepy.”

You saw his conflicted face in the corner of your vision. He was obviously debating something. “Look, I… ugh… You’re really forcing my hand here.” You looked up at him, confused. He turned his head to hide his face as his skin darkened slightly on his face. “I liked you before as a human and I still like you now. Your newly acquired beetle traits have changed nothing regarding my feelings for you. You still look perfect. If that isn’t enough evidence, I’m unsure of what could ever convince you.”

“You… like me? You still like me?” You perked up, your heart fluttering. “You liked me before? You like me now?”

“Don’t make me repeat it,” he mumbled, turning around fully so you couldn’t see him. You saw how his foot nervously tapped the floor. “It doesn’t matter what you look like. You’re still the same. It doesn’t change my… feelings.”

“You mean it?” He turned around and nodded tensely.

You couldn’t help yourself when you ran up to him and hugged him with your four arms.

“See?” He patted you on the back with a hand, the other wrapping around you to keep you close. He did not hesitate at all to touch you. Maybe it was to show you how he didn’t mind your new mutation. You didn’t really care, so you tightened your hold. “You give even better hugs now.”

#rise donatello x reader #donnie x reader #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #donatello x reader #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt x gender neutral reader #rottmnt x gn reader #tmnt x gn reader #tmnt donnie x reader

[hp-bodiceripper]

WEEK 1 MASTERLIST

This week brought you sweeping world building, thrilling winged horse races, origami dresses, cottage core softness, topsy-turvy first dates, kilts, glittering robes, steamy photoshoots and only one bed.

We hope you are as delighted with the wonderful creations as we are. On behalf of the fest creators, thank you for all the kudos and comments and screaming in the tags. Keep 'em coming.

Posting will commence on Monday.

Here are all works from week one.

🎨 Art

Harry And Draco Wearing Kilts

(Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, G, digital art) Our favourite wizards, dressed in traditional Scottish attire.

reliand says about this: oh they're so handsome! Slowly_learning says about this: I really like the vibe in here! This makes my mind wander and think about how they ended up in kilts.

I Bloom Pink For You

(Narcissa Malfoy/Pansy Parkinson, M, craft) Pansy has been starved for love her whole life. All she needs is someone who will give her the approval she craves. An origami comic inspired by Schmem_14's fic.

lq_traintracks says about this: This is absolutely incredible! The origami is such a beautiful way to make the dresses! Schmem_14 says about this: Oh, you’ve outdone yourself this is beautiful. I am flabbergasted and so in love with this 😍

You Pierce My Soul

(Harry/Draco, M, digital art) Harry's eyes were on him almost as soon as Draco entered the ballroom. It was as if he'd been watching the door, and now Harry's eyes were wide and his mouth open.

Krethes says about this: This is so STUNNING! The richness of the textures and colors are just everything! RaenyDay says about this: The way you captured the materials and layers of Draco’s outfit?? Fantastic. Like he’s wrapped in a nebula. Harry’s tattoo and shirt pattern. chef’s kiss

🎵 Podfic

wasps and honey by swoons

(Hermione Granger/Narcissa Malfoy, M, 1 - 1,5 hours) After ten years on parole in the Muggle world, newly widowed Narcissa Black is finally allowed to do magic again — as long as she can complete all the spells on the Ministry course list. Her Ministry of Magic representative? Hermione Granger.

swoons says about this: Oh my god!!!! Your voice is so lovely in this askdjdhsjakdj you’ve given this story so much additional magic and care!!! I am incoherent!!!! !!!!!!! ChaoticSapphicWitch says about this: This is so good!!!! MY HEART!!!

🖋 Fic

collarbones like a bow, skin an arrow to the heart

(Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley, E, 4k) Gin’s adjusting the lighting for their next shoot when in walks the new model Luna was so enthusiastic about, and that’s when they know they’re in deep shit.

TheGoblinMatriarch says about this: Oh my goodness goodness gracious this is very sultry and I love the absolute inevitability of the seduction even as Gin spends the whole time low-key resisting it! lagerlout says about this: This was SCORCHING! Obsessed with Gin in this. Would be absolutely powerless to resist them.

Cool About It

(Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, M, 16k) Harry is so excited for his first date with Draco. But what follows isn't so much a date as it is an all-night odyssey including a malevolent lift, a Gringotts heist, a Sleeping Curse, a trip to the kebab shop, a lack of dancing, a Muggle drug, a rooftop pool party, a black eye and, eventually, a sunrise over a Quidditch stadium.

stardanced says about this: What a roller-coaster of a night - hilarious and heart stopping in equal measure, I love everything about it! Thank you, such a brilliant read. getawayfox says about this: What a DELIGHT of a fic! First few lines in and I started grinning like a loon and I didn’t stop the whole time

this is how we become timeless

(Narcissa Malfoy/Lily Evans, T, 10k) Narcissa is in eternal servitude to the Dark Lord, bound by the tears of a burned-down phoenix. Lily belongs to the Order, bound by the tears of the same creature. They’re the only two people in the world in the position of time turners, tasked with teetering the outcome of the ongoing war into their respective side’s favor. They are light years away, yet they’ve never been closer.

nocturn says about this: I DEVOURED this. How incredibly beautifully you have woven their stories together!!! This feels just like the book, so stunningly written and intense and dreamy all at once! anon says about this: Such an interesting world you've created.

Wild Horses (couldn't drag me away)

(Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, E, 36k) Koi no Yokan (Japanese) - The feeling of excitement you get when you first meet someone and know that you will eventually fall in love with them. A more realistic version of ‘love at first sight’, it roughly translates to ‘premonition of love’. A story of magic, horses, magical horses, and two men who fight all odds to find their way to each other.

Angeeeelica says about this: Bro this is just * chef kiss * oflights says about this: The world-building was so simply and easily established and you made it look easy. And I absolutely adore the culture you built around magical horses; the historical setting worked so well.

Yesterday

(Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, T, 10k) Harry doesn’t intentionally kidnap Draco Malfoy. Really it’s debatable if you can even call it kidnapping but the git surely seems to think so.

QueeenieJinny says about this: I love the way this was structured, the back and forth kept it really engaging and interesting. Slowly_learning says about this: Loved the matchmaking house trope in here!

#drarry #cissamione #narlily #ginsy #pancissa #hpbodiceripper2023 #mod post

[siberat]

how about something with someone finding it difficult to fly with a full belly 😁

Why did he eat so much?

The gathering was good fun. There was a lull in fighting, and the Auto/bots took the time to put together a dinner party to socialize. Swo/op couldn’t resist the urge to grace his presence.

Unlike his other Dino/bot comrades, the flyer didn’t mind mingling even when other mechs didn’t share his enthusiasm. Mind you, they weren’t rude, just relatively short. Sideways glances would be thrown his way as he forced his opinions into the topics of conversation. Some mechs would slowly step away while others humored him momentarily before excusing themselves for odd reasons.

Apparently, Swo/op was kind of avoided due to the ‘ferocity’ his alt mode had.

Usually, the arial dino loved striking fear into his enemies and would take that as a compliment. However, hearing this from his comrades was a buzz-kill. And yes, Griml/ock was quick to say, ‘I told you so,’ as well as the others, claiming this was the perfect example as to why Dino/bots and Auto/bots don’t mix.

Even so, Swo/op felt the urge to attempt to mingle. Tonight wasn’t very successful—sadly, Sky/fire was away on a deep space mission, and the Arial/bots were nowhere to be found. Flyers tended to be more accepting, but none other than Power/glide attended—and Swo/op could only take so much of that mech!

The saving grace was the smorgasbord of food that drowned out the tables. Every type of energy/oned goodies one could imagine seemed to be present! Some of Swo/op's favorites were the mac and cheese loaded with gooey, melted cheese and bacon, French onion soup, cyberfish, and steak, just to name a few.

So, when the conversation wasn’t working, the winged mech simply filled his plate with decadent foods and gobbled them up. Each mouthful brought a smile to his lips. Each swallow made his tummy growl with pleasure. Each plate finished screamed out for another! The dishes ranged from savory to smokey, spicey to tangy, and crunchy to melt-in-your-mouth scrumptious!

Once all the dinner courses were pecked at, the dessert table was visited. The rainbow-colored dishes were so pretty to look at! They were even better to taste—the cherry pies were ever so sweet and contained a hint of an almond flavor. Danishes were freshly baked and very soft, with their icing bursting with acidic citrus filling. The mousse had the best velvety textures, and the chocolates had a rich cocoa flavor!

The food was so good it wasn’t until an angry growl announced just how stuffed he became.

He rubbed his servos over the plump swell, its plating bulging out and feeling extremely taunt. Prim/us, his belly ached as it moaned, desperately working to digest such a massive feast. Sitting back, Swo/op huffed. Breathing became more of a chore. He felt as if he had swallowed a bowling ball! Probably looked like he swallowed one as well.

Overindulging was totally worth it. His taste buds still danced with joy at all the delicious flavors! As his servos pressed at his quivering gut, Swo/op licked his lips, feeling the post-feasting slumber creeping in. Glancing around, no other ‘bot seemed keen on conversing with him. And he was simply too stuffed to bother mingling anymore.

He had his fill. Now, it was time to fly home.

That is if he could get this heavy frame off the ground! The flier frowned. He didn’t think of this aspect, but his cozy nest beckoned, and he gave the party the slip.

Slag, just walking seemed to take up so much energy! His body felt heavy as he dragged himself from the gathering to a clearing. He glanced at the sky—it was clear with only a few clouds littering the way. The freedom of flying was calling to him, and he made his way to transform.

At least attempt to.

His t-cog activated, and gears whined and clicked, but total transformation did not happen. Swo/op tried a few times, but a clunking and grinding sound was heard each time. His belly was simply too big! Furring his optics, Swo/op growled, not believing for one moment he was grounded!

He sucked in his gut- even using his servos to manipulate his flab as he transformed. This was challenging- gears vibrated that shouldn’t have, his frame erratically jerked, and he swore he smelt a faint smoke smell. Finally, changing into his alt-mode was complete, and he stood on the ground in his pterodactyl form. Releasing his breath, he felt his plating creak and bulge: if he had eaten one more plate, he’d probably pop some paneling off!

With transformation out of the way, the next step was take-off, and he knew his graceful ascension into the sky was not going to be pretty. Nonetheless, he waddled to a clearing and spread his wings wide. After giving a final stretch, those wings began flapping. He felt his body slowly rise but did not lift from the ground. Working harder, Swo/op desperately worked his appendages, but it still felt like trying to make a boulder airborne.

It didn’t take long for his wing joints to tire, but a final attempt was made. Crouching down, the flyer madly flapped its wings and leaped into the sky. He was in the air for all two seconds before plummeting back onto the ground.

Sadly, his feet slipped out from under him, and he rolled forward, grimacing as his overstuffed belly took the impact. He then rolled head over feet a few times before coming to a stop. Once dirt was shaken from his face, the bird-former groaned. Longingly, he glared at the sky, but he could not sail amongst the clouds! He was grounded.

With much difficulty, he returned to his root mode- there was slightly more room for his widened frame. He sat on the ground, rubbing a servo over his grumbling belly. Saddened that he could not take to the skies, he did not regret the feast.

He was, however, happy his fellow Dino/bots did not join him, for their ridicule over his predicament would have been unbearable. A smile appeared on his lips as he bathed in the sun’s warmth, rubbing his servos over his swollen belly and reminiscing of all the tasty dishes he had consumed.

Swo/op truly did enjoy the party.

.... .....

Sorry this took so long! Sometimes I really get into a slump with writing!!

#chubformers #siberat drabbles

[spicysix]

「eddie munson X gn!reader • roadtrip!AU」

1.2k words | next | masterlist | ao3 warnings/author's note: everything is fine, vecna is dead, the upside down is no more, max had broken bones and is now blind but she's alright. eddie got real Chomped™ but also recovered. this is a fix-it folks! also: impulsive thinking might lead to adventures such as an impromptu roadtrip with someone you barely know. beware

Wednesday, July 23

You checked once again, making sure Max was alright. She just turned to look at you — well, not look at you — with that displeased face and you smirked even though she couldn’t see. But, hell, it was almost as if she could feel what you were doing.

“Quit stalling, Steve will be here in no time. I’ll survive,” she said before placing her headphones over her ears and pressing play on the Walkman, volume up high. Muffled, but still ever present, Kate Bush reached your own ears in no time.

Not like Max actually needed babysitters. She was adapting really well to both her lack of vision and her wheelchair, and you knew she’d be just fine, short-term and long-term alike. It was more that you — Nancy, Jonathan, Steve, even you and Robin who came by later —  the older ones, the forever big siblings; you all needed to feel like you were helping her more than she actually needed the help.

You didn’t say goodbye, didn’t tell her to behave like you wanted to — she wouldn’t listen anyway. So you just picked up your keys from the counter before leaving the Mayfield trailer. Max could be left alone, you trusted her. She was probably the most mature out of all the kids — not entirely by choice, some of that strength she was just forced to build up by the roughness of life. You still worried. But she was right, though. Steve would be there in no time.

The door to the Mayfield’s trailer closing in a loud thud behind you and the July burning midday sun in its peak above you were no distractions from the scene a few feet away.

Eddie was stuffing his van with bags.

Eddie Munson. Now, that guy was something.

You never paid him much attention regardless of his trailer being right beside yours at the park. You just knew him as your occasional weed supplier, nothing else, even though you knew of his fame as ‘Eddie The Freak’. Until the Events of March, as you called them. Until he was — just like you had been not even a year prior — thrown full force at the shit going down in that little town of yours. Until he was at the very center of it.

Then, he was Eddie The Banished. Eddie The Hunted. Finally, Eddie The Brave.

In between this and that, you had come to know stuff about him that you really wish you hadn’t. You had come to know the color, smell, texture of his blood. You had come to know what Eddie sounded like choking on it. You had grown familiar with the way his screams pierced through your ears into your soul.

Those were like a blur in your head most days. You’d bury those pieces of knowledge deep within your memories, as deep as you could. They’d only come pry after the moon was high in the sky, your subconscious trying to mess with you after you worked so hard at counting imaginary sheep.

But, then, after all that. He was Eddie The Retreated.

Fighting the end of the world together usually brought people closer, or so you thought since that’s what had happened between you and Robin, you and Max, hell, even you and Steve.

But after being in the shady government hospital for almost a whole month, not allowed many visitors besides his own uncle and occasionally Dustin, maybe Eddie got lost somewhere in between. Even though he and Max had physical therapy together, and he was still DM-ing a few campaigns for the boys, and you saw him once or twice at Family Video chatting with Steve, Eddie slipped away at some point.

Sure, some angry townsfolk didn’t buy the whole ‘Eddie was actually kidnapped by the real serial killer, Victor Creel’s son, Henry’ story — the story those same shady government people had tried to sell — and that probably didn’t help. Cause you knew it wasn’t uncommon for Eddie to go grocery shopping and receive ugly stares. He got his diploma through the mail, not allowed to walk the stage and get it himself at the graduation ceremony, to ‘not cause any disturbance or safety breach, for both Mr. Munson’s and the townsfolk sakes’. His band now only played once a month instead of once a week at The Hideout — he couldn’t even tell his bandmates the whole truth. And you were sure none of that was easy on him.

But you all tried to reach for him — it was the basic run, no one could get through all that alone. You tried. Called him for your movie get-togethers with the kids, and for your Drinks & Drugs get-togethers where it was just you, Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan — he never showed up. Tried to make him stay longer after DnD campaigns, but he would always leave right after, his smile never quite reaching his eyes. Always full of excuses, or filled with work — working over hours at that car shop near the edge of town, never available, never with free time.

You tried to reach for him, but he kept slipping — stepping — further away.

And as you saw him placing bags and a guitar case in the back of his van, right beside a mattress and some pillows, his hair up in a sloppy bun instead of the pretty wild waves you once saw before March, fingers naked of any metal, his skin paler, eyes reddened and with dark, deep bags under them — well, something stirred in your belly, and not in a good way. And you just knew, somehow.

You thought hard and fast as you went to your trailer as quickly as you could.

Max needed you.

Found a duffel bag under your bed.

But she had Steve, Robin, the Wheelers, Byers, Sinclairs and Hendersons looking after her as well.

Pulled random pieces of clothing from your drawers and threw them at your mattress behind you.

You had a job.

Stuffed the clothes with no care at all inside the duffel.

Well, it wasn’t a great job anyway.

Picked up from the floor your favorite Doc Martens, sneakers and sandals, and pushed all the clothes down so the shoes would also fit.

What would happen to your trailer?

A few accessories — your favorite rings, bracelets, earrings, necklaces — inside a wooden box, closed, carefully placed in the outside pocket.

Maybe your friends could take care of it.

Ran to the bathroom, picked the most needed hygiene stuff and a first aid kit from under the sink.

Well, your friends would be worried.

Ran back to the bedroom and placed the bathroom stuff wherever there was still place left in the bag, careful to prevent any leaks.

That’s what letters were for — you could explain it to them later.

Threw the duffel over your shoulder, gathered your routine bag with all your usual belongings, ran to the trailer’s front door and past it, locked it behind you and ran again for the van. Threw in your duffel beside his bags just as Eddie was about to close the back doors. He looked at you, a glimpse of anger and a whole lot of confusion in his eyes.

“Where we’re headed to?”

taglist (is open!): @amira0303

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #lui writes #ifligh

[marvelmyriad]

starter for @the-innumerable-heroes [Wanda]

It was a bit of a long story as to how Loki wound up standing on the sidewalk among the streets of New York in an unfamiliar timeline.  With company at that.  The woman that walked next to him had auburn hair and wore different, regal shades of red.  The aura of magic that radiated around her was nearly palpable and he had been able to sense it the moment that he saw her.

Backing up a bit though, the god hadn’t started his day with any of this in mind.  The Tempad that he’d stolen from the TVA and modified had been a tool that he intended to use to find a timeline that he could lay low in for a while.  With the multiverse in absolute shambles and no leads on Kang, he was trying to do what he did best; adapt and survive.  That had led him to this world.

The first instinct that Loki had was to find his brother.  From the research that he’d done, that Thor would have lost his Loki.  There had been conflict in his mind as to whether or not to try to just assume the place of his Late-Variant but ultimately, he’d had enough of lying to his brother.  He would never see his brother again, after all.  That Thor, along with his entire timeline, had been pruned.  The last thing he wanted to do was try to start turning over a new leaf by telling another lie first and foremost.

So, he’d found Thor.  He’d told him the truth of it all and ultimately they had reached an understanding; even if they weren’t of the same timeline, they were still brothers.  They had still grown together the same way, the variance didn’t happen until Loki escaped with the Tesseract.  For all intents and purposes, knowing what he did, Loki would be able to pick up where Thor had left off with his Loki.  The two brothers had shared a much-needed hug, but as the trickster had pulled back, there was a circle of light beneath him.  Oddly enough, Thor seemed to know more so what was going on with this magic than he did.  The thunderer had said something about ‘Strange‘ just as the god found himself falling.  A scream instinctively sounded from him as the fall seemed endless, but when he did stop falling, he’d hit the ground with a painful thud.

Just as he was getting up from that, he was met with a man in…ridiculous and hideous getup, standing next to a woman that clearly knew more about which colors and textures meshed well together.  The way that the man carried himself was infuriating on sight, but nothing compared to the lecture that he proceeded to give Loki.  He had introduced himself as Stephen Strange, and the pieces fell into place.  This was someone that Thor knew, that much was apparent.  Judging by the look on his brother’s face though, the man wasn’t exactly a close friend.  With good reason, in Loki’s opinion.  This Wizard was a pompous human that had clearly been given too much power.  Sorcerer Supreme?  According to who?  Clearly himself, but Loki had no reason to place any weight on what Stephen Strange said.

When the man proceeded to tell Loki that his very presence there was an affront to the universal order, the trickster begun to have unpleasant memories of his ‘trial’ at the TVA when he’d first been brought in.  Just as he had then, he had once more become obstinate and insistent.  This time though, he had more confidence in himself.  He had the knowledge that he had the capacity to be good, and he knew that he didn’t have to fit nice and neatly into any box that was made for him.  The god knew that he wasn’t going to budge…what he hadn’t known, was that the woman that had stood next to Strange would wind up taking the trickster’s side.  It seemed that the wizard wasn’t expecting that turn of events either, as he was left in a stunned silence just long enough for them both to get away.

The two magic users looked to one another at the same time, and Loki found himself smiling.  “Thank you, for giving me your support.”  He stood just a little taller, more so out of wanting to be polite.  “Pardon, I’ve not introduced myself.  I am Loki, of Asgard.”  He gave his head a small bow to her.

#tva loki rp #loki rp #the innumerable heroes #wanda maximoff

[closingwaters]

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @kadavernagh @closingwaters

SUMMARY: Regan feels a pull that differs from the dead, and stumbles upon Teagan. With a scream, she manages to set the nix free.

WARNINGS: None

The discovery, like many great ones, had been an accident. A happy one, maybe, if Regan could feel such a thing. Screaming near the hardened goop along Worm Row was out of frenzied desperation – there wasn’t enough time to get somewhere more isolated, and most people had learned to stay away from the substance’s margins by now. It had been a good instinct; there was no one there. But when the scream came, the ooze quaked, flying from the pavement and the trees like cracked pieces of pottery. Underneath, green leaves sprawled from the branches, as all of the others that had been outside of the goop had already shaken off their fall colors. Like it was preserved. 

Did that mean those trapped underneath might still be alive? She couldn’t feel any death radiating from the area, but that didn’t mean much in the face of the unknown. It was dwarfed by a far larger question: could they be freed? She needed to think on this, what it might mean. Tell someone, maybe. There was a thought. Who could she even tell? I screamed at the goo and it exploded. Elias would think she was insane. Jade would think her strange…er.  Emilio… well, that could work, but could she stomach it? 

Regan stuffed her hands in her pockets and pulled in a long breath. The cold air was irritating to her lungs after screaming, making her skin prickle all the way from her neck to her – 

No, that wasn’t the cold. It was weak, but unmistakable. The presence of fae. Everything was heightened right now, her muscles exercised in the way they needed to be, her attention sharp as a scalpel. She easily identified the origin. A tall projection sticking up from the goo, right at the edge. About the size of a person. As Regan tread closer and the light bounced off the rough angles of the structure, she could pick a face out of it. Limbs. Features. Familiarity. Teagan.

Her stomach hardened like the substance she was staring down. She knew what needed to be done. Cliodhna would have said Fate brought her here today and showed her the path. Regan couldn’t refute that. Óinseach, she berated herself; she knew well how the burden of proof worked, but often, that changed nothing. 

There was no point on asking Teagan. Regan knew better than to rest her hand on the substance. Touching it obviously hadn’t gone well for Teagan, or countless others. And then there was the scream. If she had a hand on Teagan, even with the hardened goo in between, it could kill her.

This one, at least, would not be so torturous. Regan reeled a deep breath, winding herself. She shuffled backwards, probably further than she needed to, but she didn’t want to risk the harm. The scream behaved, exploding out, the force of it covering the ooze. And as a fissure crackled through Teagan, Regan chose to focus on the lack of death filling her lungs. She’d survive this yet. 

The coarse embrace of whatever the goo was began to loosen, the textured connection retreating its grasp. There was nothing. For a long while, lungs burned and vision remained obscured, pain sweeping under skin like tremors of an earthquake and ears catching final muffled remnants of a hollow and terrifying scream. All this, accompanied by the clanking of a toppling bucket.

Teagan gasped as her tomb crumbled around her, setting her free. Knees buckled, a struggled whimper escaping her while she surveyed her blurry surroundings. Several sensations and discomforts attacked her at once, the most jarring being a crisp and chilling breeze. It was warm the last time she had been graced with the dance of wind on her skin. The startling realization sent her to the ground in an unceremonious bundle of weak limbs. 

“Where…” She trailed off, voice catching painfully on her jagged throat. Her entire body felt too dry, the last drops of water from the bucket next to her not being enough to sate her. “Water. Water.” Teagan all but begged for it, only just then able to put together the blurry set of colors in front of her. Regan. Why was she there anyway? She wondered blearily, attempting to roll over to her hands and knees to crawl. It was futile, and she remained on her side, looking pitifully at Regan. 

“What happened?”

The hardened covering cracked and then practically exploded, revealing the trapped individual underneath. Regan was quick to clamp her mouth shut. Teagan was free. Anything more would just vibrate her organs and bones into a different kind of goo. “Teagan?” Between the scream and whatever sensory overload she must have been experiencing right now, Regan didn’t really expect the woman to hear her. She barely appeared to register she was there. But as scared eyes found her own, Regan tried again. “Teagan. You’re out.”

She hadn’t exactly planned on helping out a giant, pink amphibian. What she had would have to suffice. Regan reached into her bag and pulled out her water bottle, placing it carefully in Teagan’s shaking hands. Pink as she was, she still looked pale, sickly. 

“Come on. We need to –” She couldn’t decide what was more pressing – examining Teagan or getting her out of pedestrian sight while she looked this way. She probably couldn’t even hold a glamour up. Yeah, she needed to get out of here. “Can you move?” That was negatory, Regan realized, as Teagan rolled on her side like an obedient dog. Not good. Regan crouched down, offering a hand to Teagan, her other arm supporting her from behind. “I think… I think we both have questions. You must be disoriented. I don’t even know how long you were in there.” She surely didn’t either. They’d need to figure that out. Or, actually, Arden would know. Right, Arden. That was the proper place to bring Teagan.

Regan started shepherding Teagan toward the car, one shuffling step at a time. She couldn’t help but notice the tail – her tail – was longer, though however long she was trapped in the goo probably halted her healing. “I felt your presence from under the… substance. I thought I could get you out by screaming. So I did.” Which begged the question: were there others?

Right. They both had questions, and in a public space neither one could have them answered. That’s when Teagan realized the state she was in. Her glamour was down. “Shit…shit.” No matter how hard she tried, the illusion would not comply. The veil failed to conceal her true nature, and Teagan had no other choice than to force her body to will itself off the ground. She was grateful for Regan’s help, almost surprised at the strength she displayed. Teagan had nearly all her bodyweight resting on the banshee, and she only saw a tinge of extra effort. Though, given what the woman’s job likely entailed, it made sense for her to be able to lift above her own weight. 

“You could sense me even through that?” She chuckled lightly, no humor able to be found in such a pathetic sound. “I appreciate what you did. Don’t even know how long I was trapped in there.” Teagan breathed shallowly, struggling to keep her feet moving one in front of the other. What should’ve been a daily task became a painful chore, nearly sinking whatever optimism was left in the nix. If she focused on it any longer, she was sure it was leave her completely, so she refocused on Regan and her car. 

“What is today?” She asked hoarsely, “It was October, last I remember.” Her brows sewed together, terrified at the answer she might receive. “Feels much colder than when I fell in. I was on my way to Arden.” Teagan’s eyes widened with worry, thinking of her partner. “Is she okay? Is she free? Did she…” The nix could only imagine where Arden’s mind went. Surely she believed she was dead. How long had she been grieving? How long had Teagan’s stupidity caused her girlfriend to be in pain? She stifled a sob, opening the door and fell into the passenger seat, chugging the water so quickly that much of it splashed onto her face.

The strain and weight of Teagan’s muscles was immense, but Regan held firm, trying her best to heft Teagan toward the car. Gradually, she seemed to be waking up from her haze, questions obviously flooding her mind. And soon, Regan’s ears.

October. So it had been over a month, and perhaps closer to two. “It’s November 26th.” Patient now oriented to time and place, Regan thought wryly. “Don’t worry about that now. There is nothing more pressing than getting you stabilized.” How she was alive, Regan wasn’t sure, but she surely needed food and water. The goo must have kept her in some kind of a… stasis. She tried to steady Teagan as she opened the door for her. “Sit. I want you to sit for a minute before we leave.”

Selfishly, Regan kind of needed that too. This was making her head spin. Which was something her lungs didn’t take kindly to.

More questions. “She’s fine. She –” Well, best not overplay it. Regan wasn’t sure Arden was actually all that fine. “She’s been worried, I’m sure. She hasn’t been harmed or trapped.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, trying to shut out the insanity of this. “All of my training, all protocols, they would instruct me to bring you to the hospital right now. But I obviously cannot do that.” There was a pink problem. And Teagan didn’t need to share how she felt about hospitals a second time. “And so… I’m going to bring you to the morgue. Arden can meet us there, if you wish.” A pause, though this wasn’t particularly a question. “Okay?”

The urge to panic was strong, the nix’s mind screaming at the date given to her. Two months of her life were gone. Halloween had been missed, and so had Arden’s birthday. Plans had come and gone, time stopping for her, but painfully continuing for her girlfriend. How had she spent those days? With a bottle and some cigarettes most likely, and the thought made the nymph’s eyes water from the fountain of guilt. She closed her them tightly and willed her thoughts to slow, focusing on Regan. It wasn’t the time to break down. Falling into her prison was her own fault. 

Teagan nodded weakly, her stomach grumbling and her head beginning to throb and pulse painfully, making her groan. “Sitting here is just fine with me.” She coughed, a poor attempt to dismiss the dry patches in her throat. The discomfort made her want to sink further into her seat, wish for the safe embrace of her bed, or Arden, or both. Both would be preferable. But Regan had other plans, and despite any hesitancy Teagan had, she knew it was for the best that she did what she was told. It wasn’t like she was capable of doing more than groaning in pain anyway.

“Okay. As long as you don’t take me to a hospital, I will do as I’m told. The morgue is fine, but, um…” She patted her pockets, only just then remembering she had left home without it. “Can you contact her? I don’t have my phone and for her sake, I need her to know that I’m okay. Alive. Please?” Tired eyes landed on Regan, a shimmer of light brightening in them. Gratitude. “And I really appreciate this, Regan. I know you’re doing your protocols and all that, but I still appreciate it. You’ve helped me so many times now.” Teagan swallowed, her throat burning at the friction. She couldn’t wait for the mayhem to be over, or at least for sleep to overtake her. 

Teagan was either being reasonably agreeable, or didn’t have the energy to argue. Either way, Regan got what she requested, and the fae took a steadying seat. She was coming to understand Teagan’s physiology a little more. The way those projections – gills – on the sides of her face drooped, the leathered texture of her skin. Evidence of her captivity and the physical toll it had taken. She hadn’t fully realized she’d been studying Teagan until the woman spoke and surprised her, croaking voice not helping anything.

Regan thought for a moment, decided there was no harm in it and potentially a lot of good, and sent Arden a quick message. She was pleased they’d have each other again, but didn’t particularly wish to be present in the middle of all of their… soggy reunion feelings. She’d punt anything but medical questions to when they were all at the morgue, and let Teagan take it from there. While she had her phone, she also shot Marcy a quick text, requesting the lobby to be cleared out and Rickers distracted. That was easy to do, and Marcy was nicer about it than Regan was. Regan just locked him in his office sometimes.

Business accomplished, she glanced over at the exhausted fae in the passenger seat. Teagan didn’t look like she would fall unconscious if the wind brushed her skin now, so Regan made the executive decision to climb in and hotfoot it. An ambulance siren would have been nice. She could probably imitate one. But sometimes secrecy won over urgency.

“Think nothing of it.” Regan would be doing enough thinking for both of them. She had felt Teagan. But Teagan wasn’t the only one who had vanished underneath the goo; there were others, perhaps hundreds. And they were alive.

#wickedswriting #writings #waving words #regan and teagan #c: regan #still breathing

[hobisstar]

Toxic Attraction | Yandere!Jeon Jungkook x F!Reader

Summary: Jungkook doesn’t know when his love for her grew, he doesn’t recall ever not being in love with either. To him since the day she moved in to the house next to him, she has always been his. He do anything for her. Even kill for her if needed. Of course she wouldn’t over step him to get to that leave…right?

A/N: ahhh! I’m back with something different loves! I haven’t done ANYTHING for BTS yet and since I’m getting back into them, Why not start off with some Yandere?

Tips: Y/N is Your Name, E/C is Eye Color, H/C is hair color, and H/T is hair texture!

Warning: the mention of smut, nonexistent lover, violence, mention of death, manipulation, toxic Jungkook, emotional blackmail, and angst.

I DID NOT PROOFREAD

What if they would have never met? Would his sick obsession still be there? Would the urge to just lock her away and pocket the key for safe keeping still be there? Jungkook wonders if he’s just way too in love or if he’s over thinking it. For some years now Y/N has been his ideal type. She was his neighbor . He always thought it was strange having such a goddess as a neighbor, but after getting to know Y/N, He fell in love very quickly by just looking at her E/C eyes, H/C H/T hair that would blow in the wind, her smile that would light up his room. The way he would feel himself throbbing when he saw her.

Oh, the dirty thoughts he had in his mind from her. He would imagine coming over one day for just dinner or anything and soon he would have his cock buried deep in her what he imagined to be, warm, welcoming, and dripping cunt. Everything about her made him this way. Her thick curvy figure that he would just die to get his hands on.

Of course with love there is always a down fall right? Miss Y/N, has disobeyed jungkook and got herself a little boyfriend. He wasn’t as great as himself though, he was bitch in Jungkooks eyes.

One time there was a dog chasing Y/N, oh was it scary. His poor y/n is scared of dogs. But any ways, she was being chased by a dog, and her she was screaming for her boyfriend to scare it away. Turns out he was more scared of it than her since he locked her outside with the dog. Jungkook just so happened to be outside that day though and he scared the dog away. Saving the day and becoming his babies hero.

“Are you alright? Did you get hurt? Are you hurt anywhere? Gosh Y/N you need to be more careful!” He blabbed on and on. Only thing y/n could do was hug him. She was frightened and she had been running a block trying to get that dog off her tail. Finally Jungkook saved her.

“T-Thank you…I owe you everything..” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“So you are telling me you haven’t even confessed? Don’t you guys get dinner and all that great stuff?” Namjoon, Jungkooks friend, asked highly confused. I mean he knew his for Y/N wasn’t healthy. Though there is not much he could do when he tried to tell him plenty of times that obviously she wasn’t feeling him like he was feeling her. When he told him that, Jungkook didn’t take that lightly. Let’s just say Namjoon had to go to the hospital to get stitches on his face.

“No i havent but i plan on doing it tonight! I want her to meet Bam and then I’ll confess to her Joon.” He smiled imagining just how great this could go and will go. To be honest he order almost everything he knew she liked. While in dream land he heard his door bell go off . “ that’s her! Namjoon- hyung, I’ll call you later! Bye!” He said hanging up without even waiting for a answer. He rushed to the door and opened it for Y/N.

She looked like a goddess as usual. Gosh, the way he wanted to take her right then and there was so hard right now.

“Hi Kook! I brought you some snacks!l she smiled brightly and held them out. Jungkook hurriedly took them from her gently, fearing it was too heavy on her hands. “Oh, Y/N, Noona you didn’t have to!” I forgot to mention, she’s a month older than jungkook. It doesn’t matter though I mean she told him he doesn’t need to call her Noona, but he insisted that he does. “Come in come in! I don’t want you getting sick from this harsh heat.”

She walked in and looked around. If you were her you’d be surprised how his set up it’s almost identical to her home, just in the color black.

“Ah, Bam is in his cage sleeping so make yourself at home while i bring the plates..” he stated putting the basket on the center table in the living room. He hoped he could feed her those delicious chocolate covered strawberries later. She nodded and smiled getting comfortable and taking off her shoes and sitting on the couch. “This living room and kitchen is… literally like mine. Same furniture, same center pieces, same art on the wall, maybe I inspired him?” She thought to herself silently. She remembered him saying he really loved her home when he visited it the first few times he came by but, she didn’t think he loved it enough to do copy and paste. It was almost like plagiarism.

Jungkook came back with plates and placed them down on the table. It was medium rare stake with a side of Mashed potato’s with optional greens on the side. He smiled and went back to get the drinks which was sparking wine since he really wanted the both of them to stay sober, he wanted them both to remember the day they started to be a official couple, I mean to him they already were but this was a bigger step. He sat the cups down and then sat on the floor in front of her smiling. “Please eat first I want to make sure you like it.” He stated waiting for her to dig in.

She cut the stake and ate a piece and nodded savoring the taste of the delicious meat on the plate. “It is wonderful, J!” She assured and started to eat but only she did. He watched her eat, like he would everyday in the hidden cameras he installed in her house a few months ago. Those cameras lets him see his baby everyday. He was so creepily in love.

“Let’s make it official.” He blurted out after watching her eat. He wanted to see her reaction but it’s not what he expected. She coughed and drink some of Sparking wine to wash down her food.

“W-What? J, that was random.” She said looking at him confused and a little shocked.

“I want to make it official. I like you and you obviously like me-“

“Wait, J, i don’t like you in that way, I mean I have a boyfriend.” She cut him off and looked away.

“Break up with him, I can teach you to love me.” He said getting up and sitting next to her on the couch.

“Jungkook, No. I- I plan on marrying Taehyung. He already proposed to me and-“

“I didn’t approve of it so it doesn’t count.”He looked at her, he felt himself getting heated. “Excuse me? Jungkook I don’t know where this attitude is coming from but I don’t like it and you shouldn’t be even giving it to me.” She said also getting a little angry at him. Who was he to say the proposal doesn’t count?

“ Y/N I don’t think you understand, Noona. I’m in telling you big news here. I’m giving you a better chance than whatever his name is. You want to get married Noona? Okay I’m fine with at we can do it next month and have the wedding then. You want kids? I’m willing to give you all of me. You don’t want kids? Bam can be our baby boy. Don’t you see this world is already set up for you? All you have to do is finally join it…” Jungkook was staring at her feeling his eyes water… “ All you half to do is say ye-“

“No! Jungkook no! I’m not doing any of that with you! I’m already happy with who I’m with! The life I’m in. The life I have. Me and you are just friends J! Neighbors! Remember? There is no connection between us like that..” She went quiet and so did Jungkook but he was only quiet because he was angry.

How dare she disobey him like that? How dare she not just go with the flow and say yes like a good girl? How dare she lie to his face? He chuckled and just bust out laughing completely.

“You…you really have no idea…” he smiled at her and it soon faded. “ You aren’t so smart my baby. Let me break this down for you, All you have is me. You wouldn’t be alive it it wasn’t for me!” He grabbed her arm tightly. “ you would have a fat scare on that beautiful leg of yours from a dog bite if i hadn’t scared him away… And you…you dare disobey me? After I saved you? You said it yourself… you owe me everything.. it’s time for your to give everything.” He said standing up and letting her arm go. He started to pace the room.

“ Gosh i tried to hide this side from you but you just don’t know how to be a good girl. There is no other life than this one. Taehyung is dead. I killed him. I was close to killing that animal that tried hurting you but I refrain from it. Your mother dying from a car accident was just some weird Karma? no, I killed her! Can you see I got rid of all the bad people In your life to protect you?! Why can’t you see that, Noona!” He yelled and flipped the table, it breaking as soon as it had contact with the wooden floor. He grabbed the knife and held it to his neck.

“ Why are you making me do this?… Why!” He said looking at her with huge eyes while she returned them. She couldn’t even register what he admitted to her about killing her mother and Taehyung. “J, please! Put the knife down…”

“Noona, if I put it down will you love me? Will you leave everyone and come live with me and Bam? Hmm? Will you complete the family like it’s supposed to be? Will you?” He glared at her and put it deeper to his neck.

“Yes! I will! I’ll be your girlfriend! I’ll be Bams mother just please put the knife down Kook!” She yelled and got on her knees not caring if the broken class was cutting at her hands and legs. When Jungkook saw that he threw the knife and down and quickly picked her up so she was out the glass. He said nothing as he took her to the kitchen, sat her on the island, and went to go get the first aid kit. While he was gone she started to bawl and sob. Her family, whom might have done something mean to her once was gone, she could’ve easily forgiven them simply. She had the Brust of thought that she should’ve had a long time ago. Leave. NOW.

She grabbed and knife and held it in her hands and heard Jungkook coming back whistling softly. She got off the island and turned around with the knife. Pointing it at him. He froze at first but scoffed and chuckled. “ Noona, put the knife down. You’ll hurt yourself.” He said calmly but creepily.

“Eat shit and die, Jungkook.” She said with tears in her eyes. She stepped back when he got closer. “Me? Die? Oh no baby I just tried that and you told me to put the knife down. Now I’m not asking you I’m telling you, put the knife down. Now.” He said and reached grabbing the knife from her by the blade. He yanked it from her grip and put it down in the sink. He was calm and she doesn’t know how he can be so calm. He killed people! And he’s calm?!

“Noona, my love, it’s best you get used to it and stop crying hm? They were trash people and I did what anyone would do and take out the trash.” He said picking her up and putting her back on the island. “After I clean you up you can get some rest, I’ll need to lock you up for awhile while I go take the cameras down from your house.” He said taking the glass out her hands. Y/N never froze so quickly in a middle of crying. “C-Cameras? What? You were stalking me?” She said ready to take her hand back.

Jungkook held her hand with a tight grip, keeping it in place. “ stalking? No I’d say more of being your Guardian Husband. I saw everything love. I saw when Taehyung proposed to you. I hate that day the most. I saw how happy your mom was and that sickened me. I mean there had to be a reason how I got ever single furniture the same as yours when I never asked you which company or brand you got it from. The bed room looks the same as yours. So does the bathroom. You’ll be just like at home.” He got done cleaning her wounds then sighed and pushed her hair behind her ear. “ If you would’ve just loved me sooner you wouldn’t have lost both your mother and Taehyung. Maybe just one. But not both. I’ve wait patiently and you choose to ignore it for 2 years ,Noona. It’s not my fault. That’s just how my Toxic Attraction for you is. I’ll do anything for you. Anything.”

#jeon jungkook #bts yandere #Jungkook x reader #yandere!jungkook #Kim Namjoon #Kim Seokjin #Min Yoongi #Jung Hoseok #Park Jimin #Kim Taehyung #bts jungkook #f!reader #jungkook #psycho!jungkook #jungkook x you #bts x reader #bts fic #bts jhope #bts jin #bts jimin #bts suga #bts namjoon #bts taehyung #bts fanfic

[chysgoda]

September 02: Bark

The bark woke Azem. On the other side of the shimmering shield that protected her small camp, a bright white wolf watched her with silver eyes and a pelt frosted by a vibrant pink. She took a deep breath in and sorted through the scents of the living aether around her. She didn't think its pack was nearby, she couldn't smell the strange combination of snow and soil that she had caught the edges of while looking for these elusive creatures.

The wolf pawed at her shield spell and barked again. When it had her attention, it pawed at the shield again and made a high pitched whining sound in its throat. Azem pushed an errant strand of black and red hair out of her face and frowned. Logriff had asked her to gather data on this species of wolf and she had spent months recording what she could figure out of their habits from what was left in the wake of this particular pack. For months she hadn't caught more than a glimpse, And now one was sitting outside the small circle of her camp pawing at her shields like a dog at a closed door.

Making sure that it had her gaze the wolf shook itself and vanished. No not vanished, squinting she could still see the edges and texture of the fur, but the coloring matched the forest around it perfectly. Azem's eyes widened, there hadn't been even a slight ripple in the ambient aether. A breath later it shook itself again (at least her thought it did) and the white and pink spread back through its plate. It pawed at her shield again. Azem bit her lip and dispersed the spell. The wolf slowly moved into her space like it was afraid she'd spook and take flight. It glanced at her spear which lay on her other side but continued its approach. She held out her hand and it sniffed at the skin of her palm. It caught the cuff of her coat sleeve and tugged gently.

~~ 'What is intelligence? Just because something doesn't have thumbs or can't use magic doesn't mean it lacks intelligence.' Idunn asked as she untangled wire from the leg of a fox. She smiled at her twin's venting. She wondered who in the academia had brought up this particular subject. "don't smile at me like that Lilith! This disdain for other modes of intelligence will cause trouble one day. ' ~~

Azem let the memory of her twin wash over her, "I need to grab my thing mynew friend and then I will follow you."

The wolf let go of her sleeve and sat with its tail thumping impatiently against the ground. Azem stood and quickly settled her pack and spear on her back. When she nodded the wolf turned and ran fast enough to keep ahead of her but not so fast she couldn't keep up. As they moved the unnatural color of the wilds fur softened into a yellowed white that Azem could still see through the trees but didn't scream out where they were.

They ran for long enough that the stars had shifted and the horizon was the dull grey that came before the vivid Dawn. The wolf led her to the hallow of a hill. On the most sheltered ground lay three wolves and four pups that whimpered and whined, the colors of their fur flickering and shifting in random colors. Azem looked at her guide who motioned to the sickly wolves with his snout. She approached slowly doing her best to ignore growls that came from nowhere. She crouched near one of the striken adults, she didn't fancy getting her hand being bitten off by a jumpy wolf. She held a hand over one wolf's head, her nose wrinkled at the smell of rot and corruption in the poor thing's aether.

Azem dropped her hand and frowned. She turned to her guide, "I can keep them alive but I can't fix it. Can I call for my sister? She feels the heartbeat of the star and will be able to find the corruption that poisons your pack."

Another wolf stood up from where it had been laying not two arms lengths away from her. It shook itself allowing her to see the edges of its fur and how the color shifted to stay true to its immediate back ground. This new wolf stuck it's snout in her face and bared it's teeth with a growl she felt in her bones. Azem held still and watched letting this wolf investigate her is whatever way told them what they wanted. When they stepped back they barked and she took that as permission. She stepped away from the hallow in the hill and let her spell spread out around her. She called and listened for the answer. When she felt the answer she wrapped her aether in a rope and pulled.

Idunn blinked when the golden light faded and looked at her twin then in the direction her twin pointed. Idunn swatted at Azem's head not really expecting to make contact. "Why didn't you tell me you were studying rock wolves Lilith!"

Azem waved off the question, "business first, and then questions."

Idunn huffed but the twins turned to the pack and began their work.

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2023 #azem the traveler #lilith #idunn #i need to come up with some kind of surname convention for the ancient world #red head writes a thing

[beechbloom]

The Bus Stop

Character: Albedo

Word count: 0,6k

Modern AU and soulmate AU

The string was something that everyone had. They could come in different colors, textures, and thicknesses, but they all had a common goal.

To help soulmates find each other.

You had occasionally seen him in your dreams. While his image was unclear, a fuzzy shape of blue, white, and beige, it still brought you a sense of safety to lay your eyes on him.

Even more familiar to you was his voice. Calm, smooth, and wholly pleasant to listen to. You could never seem to make out what he was saying but enjoyed it all the same. Although these were all observations you remember making within dreamland. Once you woke, it was always so difficult to remake what you had heard in your head.

You look down at your string, a woolly little line of dark blue. Gently, you tug at it, not having to wait long until you receive a tug in return. It brings a smile to your face as you sit by yourself at the bus stop.

You could tell he lived nearby from the usual movements of the string. If he lived on the other side of the world, the string wouldn't move at all, but yours moved.

Neither of you had made any genuine attempts at finding each other yet, otherwise, you would have met long ago. The reason for that on your part was difficult to put into words but could mostly be boiled down to a sense of anxiety.

That's why, when the string suddenly moves so quickly you'd assume he was right in front of you, you freeze. Slowly, you look up with bated breath. You see no person there, which is a little confusing.

Then it clicks. Right as the doors to the bus close, you realize that your soulmate is aboard that vehicle.

You spring to your feet, unsure what your intentions are. Never before have you been this close to him, and in your sudden adrenaline rush, it almost feels as if this is your only chance.

You're about to scream for the bus to stop when you see it hit the breaks. Confusion washes over you, then relief, as you make your way over to the now opening door. It is only when you're met with the face of an attractive man who seems like he just went through the same adrenaline trip as you that the nervousness kicks in.

You both seem to freeze, caught like two deer in headlights as you lock eyes with one another. Only a few seconds could have passed in that time at most, but to the both of you, thoughts rushing through your heads, it felt like much longer.

"Hey..." you finally let out, tense as you watch him.

"Hello," he greets, just as hesitant as you.

That voice. You'd recognize it anywhere. Soft, almost monotone, and yet so very pleasant to the ear.

You let a dazed laugh escape your lips. "It's really you?"

He seems to relax just a little at hearing your laugh. A small smile appears on his face. "I am me, yes," he begins. "But if you are asking whether I am your soulmate, or if I am not, then—" You watch him reach down and tug at the string that you now notice really is connected to his hand. You feel a slight tug in your own finger. "I believe this is an adequate way of answering?"

A large smile spreads across your lips, a small laugh accompanying it. You step out of the way, signaling him to come out of the bus so you could both talk properly.

You had finally met him. Albedo, as you would later come to know him by, your soulmate.

#and then you perform loads of cute couple actions #the end <3 #albedo x reader #albedo x you #genshin impact #soulmate au #modern au #albedo kreideprinz #genshin #ficlet #genshin x reader

[synonymroll648]

hi hi hi PLEASD send me all ur keefex thought i will scream and jump for joy and giggle and kick my feet OLEAG

refraining from giving major spoilers for the qpr keefex fic i'm writing refraining so so sooooo hard even though it hurts- anyway. keefex headcanons for the soul <3 can be interpreted as queerplatonic or romantic :)

dex noticed at some point that keefe fidgets just like him, so he made a specialized fidget just for keefe

it's very colorful. a little messy, since dex isn't an artist like keefe. he apologized about the paint quality as he was giving it to keefe, but keefe didn't care. in fact, keefe was so touched he bear hugged him for it

speaking of touch. dex gets sooooo much casual physical affection from keefe

friendly bumps like hip checks. ten gazillion hugs from behind. keefe sitting next to dex at lunch and leaning up against him all the time. gentle forehead bonks and nose boops when they're bored. linked arms when they're walking somewhere together, originally under the guise of keefe being dramatically polite in atlantis, now just out of reflex- because they don't want to get lost, of course! not because keefe likes being close to dex, no, not at all. and the occasional pecks on dex's hands and cheeks and cute little dimples when no one's looking are to make him laugh, of course. no feelings behind it at all, ro, shut up

dex is a lot more purposeful about physical touch. pda isn't really his thing. but when they're hanging out rimeshire as alone as they're gonna get (typically dex bribes his dad w/ extra work at slurps n burps to to preoccupy the triplets far away from the house, but he won't admit that to keefe), he'll initiate some stuff

leaning his head on keefe's shoulder when he's tired or listening to something keefe's showing him. wrapping around keefe from behind and smiling into his back when keefe stops breathing for a second before relaxing into dex. having goofy, lighthearted play-fights where they're just trying to trap each other's ankles with their feet without getting trapped themselves

they both like messing with each other's hands. specifically their fingers. when they don't have fidgets, or their hands are more accessible, they absentmindedly hyper-analyze the structure and texture of the way the other is built. figuring out the calluses and natural bends of one another. this is brought to you by the keefe and dex are both neurodivergent as fuck and gay for each other truther(s)

physical touch isn't really dex's big thing though. for dex, he mostly tells keefe hey, i appreciate you in a way that's unique to the way i appreciate everyone else through gestures

helping keefe with homework that has math that keefe's too tired to figure out on his own. doing little things to make keefe's life easier, like inviting keefe over on days where it's clear going 'home' would be hard on him. and inviting him to crash on dex's mattress or something else he likes more. letting keefe ramble about things he loves, and asking questions about how it all works. making a safe space for keefe to be keefe, quiet hours where talking is hard and times where he's restless and full of energy and everything in between

it starts with bravado, because that's keefe's shield for when shit goes wrong, but keefe tells dex that he appreciates all of it through compliments. it starts with things like exaggeratedly fanning his face as he says, 'dex, i swear you're on a mission to flatter everyone you know. like a knight in shining armor,' but it grows into admissions like 'dex, i know it's late and you're probably gonna make fun of me for being sappy later, but. you and this room are the closest thing i've ever gotten to having a home. there's something about...this, that's more comfortable than even everglen was. thank you.' that are so tender that it could break a heart

there's one day, a quiet day, where keefe asks if dex could hold him. the way he says it is timid, and keefe looks ready to backtrack any second. but dex wraps his arms around him and says 'make yourself comfortable' before keefe gets the chance. keefe falls asleep on dex's chest on dex's twin-sized bed, marveling at how he's so skinny it's scary, yet he's the opposite of frail - and warm. dex falls asleep staring at the ceiling, running his hand through keefe's hair and thinking about how odd it is that someone's breathing on your chest can be ticklish and nice all at the same time

oh also that time where they were pretty much straddling each other on the echodon in book 4 is engrained into their minds. every now and then they'll think about it, and the ghost of where the other pressed up against them flashes warm all over them

think of when you lay something warm on top of you and then peel away and feel its absence with how much colder you are, but you can feel the warmth burning in the patches of your skin that absorbed it. that's what they feel in their arms and torsos and thighs whenever they think about each other on the echodon

also they hyper-analyzed each other's faces before and after they went underwater

keefe tried to count how many freckles were on dex's face and tried to figure out how to paint his copper lashes and the different hues of blue and purple in dex's irises and the placement and blend of them. for artistic growth, of course

dex decided that keefe's jawline and stupidly appealing... everything else about his face he wouldn't admit he was looking at in a million years, was dumb, because any other conclusion would make him go red in the face

every now and then they get each other echodon related trinkets just to see them get flustered. prattle pins, little figurines from mysterium, etc

keefe draws stuff for dex. the ones he shares are the ones that are concept art of some tech idea dex was rambling about. the ones he doesn't share are all the ones of little moments that matter too much for keefe to talk about

when they land in detention at the same time they pass each other notes. they're super dumb on purpose, most of the time. it's become a competition to see who can make each other involuntarily get the supervisor's attention first

they also have a lot of conversations about weird hypotheticals. it's mostly questions keefe has that he knows are weird and originally doesn't expect dex to answer, but dex takes it seriously each time and tries to find a logical answer

ex: if we're going with popular incorrect quotes, keefe has also asked dex if stars have feelings and went down a rabbit hole with him in search of an answer that gave the theory a chance and was founded in facts. that was one of the funnest 5 hours of keefe's life

keefe also has stuff remaining from the forbidden cities - mostly knowledge of where stuff is - that he shares with dex. breakfast for dinner. tea time. movies he liked that they watch in a theater together. etc

it's the classic 'i'm sharing things i love w/ you because i love you but i'm not saying it out loud' if you get what i mean

imparter hails. soooooo many imparter hails. heart to hearts, silly conversations, homework help, (literal) sleeping together - you name it, it's happened on hail. hails are their safe space where everything's a little easier than in-person

dizznee family dinners!! keefe insists on helping juline and kesler with dishes or with cooking every time, as an attempt at 'paying them back'. dizznee kids usually get put on dishes, and keefe usually helps out in the kitchen (he picked up a lot of cooking tricks and tips in his days of frequenting everglen)

keefe steals treats from the teacher's lounge and brings all of the dizznees a dessert when he can. he keeps a list of their favorites

there are some days where keefe helps out at slurps n burps. kesler loves his help and jokes. keefe loves the alchemy advice, especially when it's dex teaching him, because dex somehow just knows all the right wording to get it to click in his brain

keefe made dex a stuffed tomple since he couldn't have a real one. it lives on dex's bed now

the triplets love love looooove keefe. there's one night where keefe and dex watch the triplets so kesler and juline can have a night out and keefe has a ridiculous amount of fun, because they're his level of chaos and he's always wanted siblings

keefe also doodles the triplets silly things to make them laugh when he remembers and has time to. dex always takes higher priority for that though, but he won't admit it to them

there's a wall with the dizznee kids' heights and ages etched onto it. kesler puts keefe on there one day too. keefe almost cries

one day, dex tells keefe that the reason why there's always his favorite desserts is because juline asked him for a list of his favorite foods once. keefe almost cries

at one point, dex hails him over and says he has a surprise. keefe's expecting some crazy experiment, but is instead greeted with a robotic gulon that moves just like the real thing and makes realistic gulon noises. he laughs his ass off. and then. keefe cries

let's just say after that, if keefe had been wearing lipstick dex's face would be c o v e r e d in it

(personally i headcanon keefe as being bi, while dex is an oriented aroace. keefe loves giving kisses, dex doesn't mind receiving but can't give, and keefe respects that boundary :] )

#ask #purplesoup-lad-le #keefex #keefe sencen #dex dizznee #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc headcanons #keefex headcanons #i just think that they <3