#its a funny sensation and p interesting

[chrysolipsist]

The cost of credulity

It's funny to remember how, in the 1980s, there was a sudden surge of public interest in the Procter and Gamble corporation and how it was supposedly run by members of the Church of Satan, primarily in connection to its old logo. Today, this survives as an entry in P&G's Wikipedia article:

I was a child at the time but I was around adults who actually paid enough attention to this to stop and consider: "should I stop buying products made by this company?" I remember that my mom specifically stopped using Comet brand scrubbing powder because it was owned by them, and the label at the time featured an upside-down five-pointed star (the "comet" on the 1980s label), which was supposedly another satanic symbol.

It all seems extremely naïve and stupid in the year 2023. Setting aside the notion that a publicly owned corporation would willingly wear this sort of intention as a sort of open secret, it seems almost laughable to conjure up "Satan worshippers" as something even remotely relevant to the life of an average person in our time. It's simply too boring by modern standards. Of course, the average person in 1988 had fewer options to search for an answer. Yes, if you took the time, you'd be able to go to the library and look up some related articles. But the majority of people would not really know how to do this. Instead, the average person would have probably believed whatever they saw on TV about it. There was no social media around either to ridicule the notion out of existence or to build up its credibility.

It's difficult to say which direction the P&G "controversy" would go today, but I think it borders on the edge of being too ridiculous and not spicy enough. Merely being run by possible Satan worshippers is almost quaint. There needs to be something much more notorious and sensational, such as heinous crimes being done to people in the basement of a pizzeria. In a way it seems rather quaint to have ever been willing to entertain the P&G controversy, as if there was a time when merely saying "this is the devil's work" was enough to raise the hackles of most people if said with sufficient feeling. It makes you feel like in 1988 we were barely one degree of separation removed from being as well informed as medieval villagers.

We have become a little less credulous for the same given value of "shock", which seems to be part of the currency of credulity. To be sure, there is no shortage of outrageous notions and outright falsehoods that people seem to believe in today (a legacy of mid-20th-century mistrust in institutions, which is not for nothing--although it is a topic for another time). However this bought at a much greater "cost" than 30 or 40 years ago--primarily the maintenance of a large enough group to keep it going and extend it through the application of confirmation bias to every new piece of information that comes in.

One could draw many parallels with this surcharge on belief. A general loss of innocence is one way to look at it. Before 2001, it was assumed that if a plane was hijacked, the hijackers would be primarily interested in negotiating to have their demands met. That now almost quaint seeming expectation vanished the moment the plane struck the south tower. From that moment we as a society decided that we had no choice but to shoot down hijacked planes from that point forward. Official policy actions took place, but there was no doubt about what those changes were going to be. The old model, including the idea that the hijackers might value their own lives if nothing else, simply evaporated. This is, of course, a rather extreme example, but there are countless closer-to-home examples that we could imagine if we were to stop and think. For instance, I remember one of my dad's cousins visiting when I was a teenager and he told some story about a guy who had been put in a mental hospital because he had allegedly gone insane and was convinced that bugs were living under his skin, and he had to be restrained or else he would scratch until he bled. The story concluded with the twist that, after what must have been unimaginable prolonged suffering of being restrained while being eaten alive, the guy loosed his restraints long enough to reveal that there were indeed ants dwelling in his living flesh. Needless to say, there are some flaws with this story. For one, a human body is not an ideal (or even very good) environment for an ant colony to develop, let alone flourish while going completely undetected. If you spend just one minute thinking about how ant colonies work, and how a network of tunnels is supposed to exist in raw flesh without caving in or causing internal bleeding, etc., it should be self-evident that the story is nonsense. Even if it were possible, it seems unlikely that this would go completely unnoticed in a person under medical supervision, and at the very least, the unveiling of the ants would surely not have happened without it being recorded somewhere besides this one ridiculous story, which came with no identifying location or time details whatever.

The deeper end of this discussion brings us to how we interpret our place in this apparently absurd universe in which we find ourselves. Some may look at how things have changed and remark about how "faith" has atrophied. Fewer people believe in the supernatural than in the past, and I think it's safe to say that even people who still have some sort of religious faith are, at least on average, less literal than people in the past, or at least somewhat willing to compromise on dogma when some sort of evidence makes it untenable. Sure, some people double down and entrench themselves in a belief but I think such people are largely on the fringes. Some people probably lament the diminishment of faith. I have my doubts as to the value of what might have been lost. A greater confidence in the validity of things that are untrue?

In 1988, I was credulous enough to entertain the possibility of the supernatural. After all, most people seemed to believe in something. I wasn't religious growing up, but I was aware of religion and open-minded enough as a child that it's entirely possible I could have developed some form of supernatural faith. My grandmother believed in ghosts, in particular the ghost of my late grandfather, and other family members had stories. In fourth grade, I participated in a religious education program, which was optional but since most of the other kids went, I also wanted to go, and this was the first time I heard any serious amount of Christian doctrine. For a while, I was curious about what sorts of knowledge each form of religion might possess. My parents collected many books, including a collection of the main religious texts from the main world religions. Thus, even before the internet, in the moments just before the dawn of the information age, I was able to inform myself about these things.

However the outcome of being supplied abundant information was ultimately to have undermined any sort of faith I might have otherwise developed had I been deprived of that information. The main problem was that, to me, it was obviously completely impossible to tell which religion was "correct". They all had an equal claim to correctness. A rather dull way out of dealing with this issue is to say that they're all correct, or that the truth could be found in some synthesis of the different religions. But meaningful synthesis is not really possible because there are direct, irreconcilable disagreements between religions. Perhaps even more convincing for me personally was simply reading about history in greater detail, as I did when I was a teenager, especially considering the industrial-scale atrocities of the 20th century, which are only the latest in a storied history of cruelty and depravity perpetuated by the leaders of most nations to ever have existed, seemingly born from the very nature of power. If you give adequate consideration to the evil things that have transpired--keeping in mind that these are only the ones we know about--it becomes very difficult, and, for me, impossible, to contend that some sort of beneficial entity curates fate for a good purpose. If there is any such entity, it seems to be amoral or apathetic at best, or actively harmful at worst.

Philosophers have gone over this problem for centuries. At the end of the day there is no conclusion that can be reached through mathematical reasoning alone. When only axioms are in play, any conclusion requires faith. For me personally, in the year 2023, the very notion of a supernatural entity of any form doing much of anything at all seems extremely doubtful, which piles an extra helping of ridiculousness onto the P&G controversy when viewed in retrospect. By doubting God, we necessarily also doubt the other characters in His story. If we no longer believe in the main character, why would we still believe in the villain? People who believe that evil must have an incarnate, anthropomorphic form (maybe they need someone they can blame) will sometimes say that "the greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was to convince the world that he did not exist" as though this is some kind of profound statement. But you could say the same exact thing about anything: unicorns, dragons, the Stay-Puft Marshmallow man, whatever. This "fear of missing out" approach to faith (Pascal's wager is another example) feels somehow even less legitimate than the blind-faith variety.

That's not to say I am immune to the value of comfort inherent in much of faith. It's nice to think that there's a place you might go at the end of your life where you have a chance to see all your loved ones again, and be free to do more or less whatever you want or otherwise to be happy for all eternity. Sure, that's a nice thing to be able to think, and if the outcome really is oblivion, if this belief made you happier during the time when you were alive, then the outcome is probably a net positive, at least if you calculate it for yourself alone, ignoring the side effects of many people believing all the other weird things included in your religion. But my problem is that I simply don't believe. I don't have the feeling. I was never visited by any dead relatives. If there was ever a moment when it should have happened, it would have been when my grandmother passed away. But I never experienced anything. Sometimes this idea of things fading into the ether seems sad. Yet each of us once dwelt, before we were born, in this same state of oblivion that we seemed fated to return to.

[manifesting-mari]

Morning Pages 1/15/2023

During my meditation this morning i met the scared part of me that believes that she is unworthy and undeserving to be here in the world. She thinks shes not supposed to be here. There was a mix up. There was a mistake, i died, i’m not supposed to be here. But then a higher knowing said “what are you talking about, you chose this. You wanted to come back, you always wanna come back.” I have this narrative that my soul chooses to come back into this world because she wants to come back and play with her friends. I feel like theres a group of us souls who get together in the ether and agree to come back together and to meet at certain times. This is why i have such a pleasure in this lifetime to meet so many people who resonate with me. I also think the higher me is funny and likes to make arrangements with people who will bring me pain and force me to expand. 

When on San Pedro I had a vision from my past. A little background I was born one week late via cesarean. A few hours after i was born, my dad left the hospital to get chinese food. It was me, my mom, and another couple on the other side of the partition. All of a sudden i stopped breathing and i flatlined. My mom started screaming, the man from the other couple ran to get a nurse an dthey were able to revive me. Ok. back to the vision. I Saw my mom, over my body, screaming and crying. So scared. And i was like, above her? Or watching it like a movie? I just know i was outside of the situation, and i felt so sad for my mom I knew i had to come back.

I wonder whats this part of me that doesn’t liek to come back, that doesnt liek to be here. Maybe its my karma to come here and learn to love every bit of my life and enjoy every moment and enable others to do the same. I can hear the part of me thats saying, “there so much pain and suffering in the world, how can you dare choose to fill the world with more love and more joy?” lol that statement sound ridiculous now that i read it. Yes there is so much pain and suffering, which is EXACTLY why we need more love and joy! I can speak out against the paradigms that are upholding the cycles of pain. I can actively choose ot be part of the new paradigm where we are able to show up for each other with care. I can be present for the experience of others and myself who are still grieving the pain that this old world order had inflicted on innocent hearts. 

I can feel the part of me that feels guilty choosing to live my life with joy. It's like this toxic cycle where i want others to feel the pain i feel, its like i want every part of me to feel pain, but i dont think thats possible. Even if i did feel so much pain in my body, pain is not bad, its just a sensation, it hurts yeah, but pain and hurt arent bad, in inherently, theyre just part of the human experience, something that i enjoy very much. I really enjoy feeling now that i’m getting the hang of it. I realize the ways where i want other to feel my p[ain with me, but thats projection. I’m allowed to feel my pain, say it with my chest, feel it in my heart, but no one else can feel these feelings for me. They are mine. Jordan always says that i’m allowed to have my feelings, they are mine, and just like everything else in my world i wanna give it to someone else.

I wonder why i keep running away from this human experience that i feel that my soul chose? 

My nervous system is so wild. Its very interesting to practice being in my body. To practice being sensitive to whats going on inside me. Fuck, is this that thing i was talking about that youre gonna be changed no matter what, but your the one who has to do the work? Like, my nervous system is now so obvious to me. The sensations in my body. I’m grateful to have the practice of being in my body and being able to verbalize whats happening.

I have this thing with Tiz where it seems like I always need to be wrong. I think its the part fo me that wants to be wrong, so im with someone who makes me feel liek im wrong when i know i’m spoeaking my truth. Which is good because she calls out my shit and i like that. Well, i dont liek the sensation of feeling shame and embarrassment, but i do like that i have people in my life who choose ot be honest with me becaus ethey know i have the capacity to receive their message and allow it to process. I’m also grateful to have patient friends who know that i’m going to learn and grow on my own timeline and in my own way. I’ve started to practice having more patience for myself. This past year was like lighter fuel on my life. I am so grateful for the plant ,medicine work, for the community i’ve found that allowed me to work with myself in a different way. I feel so much more joy, peace, love, and patience for myself than i ever have before and i want to continue building on that.

This morning i pulled the 7 oif pentacles. What resonated with me was the message that not all success come sin monetary form, or something like that. And looking back at this past year it has been filled with blessings. I am so filled with love and these darker parts are feeling safe to come out. The parts of me that have been screaming for love are now being seen, heard, held, and loved. 

Speaking of screaming, last night i had a wild experience. I was with jordan and i started feeling fear. I was crying and i was saying how scared i was about him leaving and my other thoughts and feelings around that. And he was reassuring me and he said that i’m his friend. And i heard part of me scream “but i wanna be more than friends!” and then another part of me screamed “But i’m scared”. When i told jordan he said that he had parts like that too. That felt sad but good to hear. I really am so grateful for this relationship, and if i did have to choose someone to work on life with, they seem like a really fun partner to adventure ethe world with. We have very similar values and other laundry list of similarities. 

Ok teh cynical part of me want to talk, lemme give her space (also recognizing the part of me thats annoyed that shes even here):

Well, who knows? We could do this for years and then at the end they can decide they dont even wanna be with me.

Ok, thanks cynical me. But i’m grateful you say that because just the same, we could do this for years and it could end up that i dont wanna be with him. I think that rather than trying to figure out whats gonna happen in the future lets asses how we feel today.

 So let’s take a survey, does any part of me NOT enjoy being with them?

Oh shit. We have a hand. Ohh the shallow me that’s always wondering if theres someone better. Someone who is more my physical “type”. Someone who has MORE things in common. I wonder what she’s from. 

Well, the votes are in. we’re gonna choose to be present and allow all the parts to feel love and joy. I have no doubt that jordan loves me. I have no doubt that they cherish this friendship. I have no doubt that they care about me and will be honest with me. I am grateful for friendships liek this and i strive to continue growing relationships like this one. 

I wonder why i’m hyper fixated on Jordan. I think there’s something to do with the human design, how i’m a non energy type and i bounce off of other people’s energy. Their energy is really resonant with my own. Like REALLY resonant. How luck of me. I really think about how i could have still been with kevin or greg, or any of my other exes and i would not have known this feeling. Or maybe i did have this feeling. I did, but now i aim to sustain it rather than letting it run through. I choose to stay present and when the part of me that jumps to the ending comes forward i’m gonna reassure her and love her. And when the part of me that jumps to the future fantasy i’m gonna love her and be inspired by her. I like the life she’s building for herself right now. I get to dance, live, have fun, and do things that bring me joy. 

I am grateful for this life. I am grateful that i woke up today, especially since that means i got to wake up with jordan. AHHHH I REALLYYY LIKE THEMMMMMM and that booty ^.^ lol I am grateful for where i’m at in my life. I’m grateful that i get to dance, sing, and play everyday, I’m grateful that i get to write freely and write for creation and creativity. I’m grateful that my life is filled with art, and artists and people who are committed to bringing the new paradigm forward. I am grateful to be part of this new wave of people who are trying to do better for the people they love. I’m in good company.

#monring pages #the artists way #artists on tumblr

[tealfruit]

my art of my dragon self got a tiny amount of attention from dragonkin/otherkin blogs and I love their support but i hope they don't come to my blogs looking for a bunch of kin-specific content bc they will b disappointed to find very little of it

#nerd alert #i just dont take my kinning v seriously #ik a lot of ppl do and thats cool for them if its how they feel abt it #but mine is just. oh im this thing! neat! anyway #like. i dont think i was a dragon in a past life. i dont need it to cement my identity #i dont think theres another universe where i am a dragon or whatever #i just show some dragonlike tendencies and also feel as tho i SHOULD JUST BE A DRAGON #altho i do get kinda a funny dysphoria-like feeling sometimes that im supposed to like. have wings. and big fangs n claws #and be a quadruped. idk how that all works like #sometimes i get a strong urge to rip shit up w my teeth or dig thru pavement w big indestructible claws #and spmetimes my shoulderblades feel weirdly empty bc where r my wings???? #its the same feel i get when im a boy and say 'hey wheres my dick' but instead its 'hey wheres my wings' #its a funny sensation and p interesting

[yamayuandadu]

Pride Month special: Manzat, the deified rainbow and her LGBT connection

Considering June is the Pride Month, I've decided to dedicate this month's first article to a rainbow-related topic too. Below the cut you can learn everything there is to know about the Mesopotamian goddess of the rainbow, Manzat (also spelled Mazziat, Manziat, Mazzet etc.) - her origin, role ascribed to her by ancient authors, associated deities and more. As promised by the title, the final section of the article deals with a text mentioning Manzat, which is, as far as I can tell, the oldest documented association between the rainbow and LGBT themes.

Manzat isn't exactly an A list goddess. Even calling her a B list one would be a stretch. Indeed, she's so obscure that we know more about many attendant deities than about her. She nonetheless is attested in many different sources, found in areas between the ancient states of Mari (in present day Syria) and Elam (in present day Iran). Manzat most likely has her origin among Akkadians in ancient Mesopotamia. Her name is pretty self explanatory – if written without the symbol known as “divine determinative” in front of it, it's simply the Akkadian term for the regular rainbow. While a Sumerian form of the name is known as well – Tir-anna (“Bow of heaven”) – the fact it appears to be a pun based on Akkadian homonyms (the sign used to write “Tir”means “forest” in Sumerian but was pronounced close to the Akkadian word for bow leading to such an usage in some Sumerian texts) makes it unlikely it arose naturally.

Between Elam and Mesopotamia

Curiously, it seems that despite Akkadian origin she was actually most popular in Elam, to the east of the Tigris. The first mention of her known today comes from the treaty of Naram-sin, king of Sumer and Akkad, with an unspecified ruler of a part of Elam, where she appears among the deities serving as its witnesses, alongside the crème de la crème of the Elamite pantheon – Pinikir, Humban (likely a “king of the gods” figure like Mesopotamian Enlil, venerated well into Persian times when parallels can be drawn about the cults of him and “Auramazda” - an early, not necessarily fully Zoroastrian form of Ahura Mazda), Inshushinak (the tutelary god of Susa who judged the dead) and so on. It needs to be pointed out that Manzat's “career” in Elam isn't a unique situation. While the Elamite language wasn't related to Sumerian or Akkadian – or to any other known language, living or extinct, for that matter – a number of Elamite gods have names borrowed from these two languages. In addition to Manzat, these include Lagamal (Akkadian - “no mercy,” an underworld deity), Ishmekarab (Akkadian - “hears the prayer,” a law deity) and Inshushinak (Sumerian - “Lord of Susa,” associated with both Lagamal and Ishmekarab). All of them appear in Mesopotamian texts too, but didn't have quite the same relevance there as in Elam. In turn the Elamite god Simut was adopted by the Mesopotamians as a personification of Mars and the goddess Pinikir became somewhat of an international sensation, showing up as far as west as in Anatolia, for example in the Hittite Yazilikaya sanctuary, possibly as a personification of Venus. While early researchers viewed Pinikir as a mother goddess, and this claim still shows up here and there today, renowned experts such as hittitologist Gary Beckman and archaeologist Kamyar Abdi, who studied this goddess in depth, demonstrated she was instead an “Ishtar type” deity. It's also possible the god Tishpak has his roots in Elam, though some scholars instead see him as a reflection of the Hurrian weather god Teshub instead.

The worship of Manzat

Sadly, there are no known myths about Manzat. What little we know about her comes mostly from sources concerned more with cultic than mythical affairs. For example records show that Manzat was reasonably popular as a deity invoked in theophoric names, both Akkadian and Elamite. Examples include Manzat-ili (“Manzat is my god”), Manzat-ummi (“Manzat is my mother”) and “Danum-Manzat” (“Manzat is mighty”). A number of shrines and temples of Manzat are recorded: in Mesopotamia in Nippur and Babylon (four shrines in that city alone), and in Elam in Susa, Hubshen ( present day Deh-e Now) and as a part of the famous Choga Zanbil site (the first photo in this article is a modern reconstruction). It seems in Elam she was often worshiped alongside the already mentioned Simut, and some researchers propose they were a couple; evidence from the Mesopotamian city of Der appears to indicate she was viewed as the wife of the local head god Ishtaran (no relation to Ishtar) there. However, the god list An-Anum doesn't list any husband in its brief Manzat section – only an otherwise completely unknown son, Lugalgidda, and a sukkal (vizier, second in comman), Sililitum. Sililitum's name is Akkadian, but appears to be the name of a month in the Elamite calendar as well. Ishtaran has no wife in this god lists, and some sources simply call his spouse “Šarrat-Der(i)” - “queen of Der.” One curious Elamite inscription refers to Manzat as “Manzat-Ishtar” - this doesn't necessarily indicate a conflation between her and the superstar of Mesopotamian mythology, though. It's possible that in this case “Ishtar” means an ishtar without the capital I: in some text, “ishtar” is a generic term for goddesses, not even necessarily of the “Ishtar type.” Examples of such usage of this term can even be found in Epic of Gilgamesh (tablet XI). No other sources associate Manzat directly with Ishtar – the latter's Elamite equivalent was Pinikir; as I’ll demonstrate later she was associated with another “Ishtar type” goddess though. It's possible that a goddess hiding behind the Akkadian title “Belet Ali” - “lady of the city” - was one and the same as Manzat. The fact that the enigmatic “Belet Ali” was associated with Simut in Elam strengthens this impression. A number of epithets are attested in god lists, among them “Lady of the regulations of heaven,” “Companion of heaven”   and “She who makes the city flourish.” Almost all of them highlight her nature as a celestial deity.

Astronomical role

Manzat's Sumerian name Tiranna – but seemingly not her Akkadian name – was also used to refer to an unidentified star. According to Gods, Demons and Symbols of Ancient Mesopotamia: An Illustrated Dictionary by J. Black and A. Green (p. 153, the Rainbow entry) horse head under a “gate” symbol present on some kudurru (Mesopotamian border markers) represents this star, but I can't find this claim anywhere else.

The horse head symbol on a kudurru (British Museum)

Manzat, Nanaya and the promised LGBT themes

While this is technically almost all there is to know about Manzat, the story doesn't end here. As I promised, I will now introduce a text which associated the rainbow – well, Manzat, to be specific, rather than the general idea of rainbows, but the point stands  – with broadly understood LGBT themes. The discussed text is a hymn to the goddess Nanaya. Nanaya was either a hyposthasis of Inanna/Ishtar, part of her entourage, or an independent but similar deity, and was first and foremost a goddess of love, including its corporeal and sensual aspect. In some hymns Inanna/Ishtar “tutored” Nanaya.

King Meli-Shipak and his daughter praying to Nanaya on a kudurru (wikimedia commons)

A reclining goddess, identified as a possible late depiction of Nanaya here (Louvre) The composition in mention a type of exaltation, praising the author's deity of choice by comparing their attributes to these of other gods. In the case of exaltation texts dedicated to Marduk this is often erroneously viewed as “monotheism” in sources of dubious quality, but that's not quite what's happening there. The purpose of such texts was to present the object of personal devotion as particularly grand and significant in the divine hierarchy by comparing their traits to these of other gods (eg. at mot henotheism, not monotheism); they are also not exclusive to Marduk, and they don't deny the existence of a multitude of gods (the famous Marduk exaltation still mentions his wife Sarpanit independently for example) According to the discussed tex Nanaya, to put it colloquially, swings both ways:

This passage was identified as referring to sexual matters already in the 1970s (A Sumero-Akkadian Hymn of Nanâ by E. Reiner, p. 233-234; the article is somewhat dated but a link can nonetheless be found in the bibliography). In an earlier strophe Nanaya states that she can take a male form (as a side note Reiner regards the form with “heavy breasts” as unusual for her):

While exaltation of a specific deity could include both gods and goddesses as their “aspects” (exaltation of Marduk included the goddess of victory Irnina among deities compared to him), in this case the mention of a bearded god is connected to a certain degree of fluidity of gender associated with many “Ishtar type” goddesses, especially with the Hurrian Shaushka. For Nanaya it's pretty uncommon, as far as I know appearing only in this single extraordinary text, and even here a result of association with her more famous “mentor” Ishtar  – but the point stands. In the rest of the hymn, goddesses Nanaya identifies herself with are enumerated. These include all the usual suspects (like various forms of Ishtar, important city goddesses, etc.), but also Manzat, here identified as the goddess of Der. Since the text describes Nanaya as – if you squint - interested in both men and women and perhaps genderfluid, it's pretty safe to say this is the oldest recorded association between the rainbow and lgbt themes, even though it has nothing to do with modern use of this symbol. If nothing else, it would be funny to bring this up next time someone claims the use of rainbow as a symbol of the LGBT community is “inappropriate” due to its biblical connotations – Manzat and Nanaya, while irrelevant today even by the standards of Mesopotamian deities, are after all figures of even greater antiquity. Happy Pride Month, everyone.

Bibliography

Manziʾat entry in Reallexikon der Assyriologie und vorderasiatischen Archäologie by W. G. Lambert is the source of most of the information in this article

Goddesses in Context: On Divine Powers, Roles, Relationships and Gender in Mesopotamian Textual and Visual Sources by J. M. Asher-Greve and J. G. Westenholz

Gods, Demons and Symbols of Ancient Mesopotamia: An Illustrated Dictionary by J. Black and A. Green

The Other Gods who are: Studies in Elamite-Iranian Acculturation Based on the Persepolis Fortification Texts by W. F. M. Henkelman

Elamite Temple Building by D. T. Potts

A Sumero-Akkadian Hymn of Nanâ by E. Reiner

Elamite Religion in Encyclopaeda Iranica

For more sources regarding Nanaya, other “Ishtar type” goddesses and their possible genderfluid character see my previous articles here, here and here.

#mesopotamian mythology #elamite mythology #lgbt history #ishtar #mythology

[clonecest-bin-account]

Always-a-corrie!Dogma x Rex?

(Oooooh, an interesting AU. I hope you like what I wrote for it!)

Rex and Dogma have never interacted outside the detention center, but they still consider each other friends, if anything because of how much time Rex spends in there. No, it’s not for him that he goes there, but to retrieve his most rowdy boys who are unable to understand that being on leave doesn’t mean that they get to “fuck shit up” at their will.

Oh well, he still loves them, even though one day they’ll give him an ulcer.

“Good evening, Dogma,” he greets the guard as he approaches him. He would’ve put a hand on his shoulder, if not for the transparisteel that separates them.

“Hello, Captain-- Rex,” Dogma greets him back. Rex has told him countless times that he doesn’t need to call him Captain - they don’t even belong to the same battalion after all - but old habits die hard, though he’s certainly improving. “I suppose you’re for… your men.”

“Yeah…” Rex sighs. “I’m so sorry they’re like this,” he can’t help but to apologize as he watches Dogma joining him on his side.

“It’s not your fault,” Dogma replies once he’s reached him, moving then to conduct him to the cell where his men are detained. “If everyone acted like you, we wouldn’t have any of these problems.”

Rex smiles at the compliment, lowering his gaze in quite the bashful manner. Thankfully for him Dogma’s staring in front of him, so he doesn’t notice a thing.

When they arrive to the cell, he knows that their time together will soon be over, just like it happened every other time they’ve met, but this time…

“Hey, Dogma.”

Dogma turns towards him before opening the cell. “What is it?”

“Well…” Rex begins, scratching the back of his neck as he speaks. He miscalculated how bad he is about this kind of stuff. “How about we go somewhere, after your shift…”

In a first moment, Dogma doesn’t react, but he keeps staring at Rex, and staring, and staring, until… “Oh!” He clears his throat. “I mean, sure,” he corrects himself then. “I know a nice place where we could go this evening, if you don’t have anything else to do…”

“N-No, I don’t…” Rex replies. “Wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.”

“Yeah, right…” Dogma mutters.

Silence falls. For a moment, it’s quite awkward, but then Dogma decides to put an end to this and opens the cell, letting out Rex’s men.

Before the 501st guys can leave, though, he turns to the Captain again, hopeful. “So… Meet me at the barracks?”

“Yeah. See you there…”

This seems like a stupid problem to have, but Rex doesn’t know how to get dressed for this… outing? Date? He doesn’t even know how to call it.

These are his options: he can wear his armor, his dress greys, or the civvies that General Skywalker has decided to bestow to all his troops. The first two might make the appointment seem more formal than it should be, but on the other hand what if he gets there in civvies, but Dogma doesn’t? He doesn’t know if he’s in possession of them!

He knows that, at the end of the day, there is no such thing as a proper dress code, and that frankly this is a very dumb problem to have, but he doesn’t want to make Dogma uneasy!

In the end, he goes for his armor, figuring that it’s the easiest answer. If he’s lucky and this goes well, he could always ask Dogma to go out another time, and reach an agreement on the clothing choices immediately so that everything’s clear.

Turns out, he’s made the right choice: when he meets Dogma at the barracks, he’s wearing his armor as well.

Rex can’t help but to chuckle at the way he almost straightens his back at his approach, and he’s quick to stop him before he can formally salute him. “Relax, Dogma, this isn’t a formal meeting. Think of it as a friendly outing.”

“Yes, s-- Yeah, you’re right,” Dogma replies, managing to stop himself before he could address Rex as sir.

“So, you wanted to show me a place?” Rex asks. He can see immediately the way Dogma’s eyes light up at that question.

“Yes! Follow me!”

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be here?” Rex can’t help but to ask. After all, one would imagine that the senatorial building would be guarded more closely, so to speak; okay that Dogma’s part of the Guard, but surely someone would wonder why he’s there despite this not being his shift, right?

“I mean, we have to endure senators all day, so it’s more than fair that we take advantage of the facility, don’t you agree?” Dogma replies. “As long as nobody orders us to stop doing it it’s free reign, though I don’t think they care enough about us for that.”

That either reassuring and disheartening at the same time, but oh well, so is life for them, so Rex doesn’t mention anything about it. After all, he’s not one to throw away such a perfect occasion to have a good time.

He thought that Dogma was going to bring him to some particular room, not to the rooftop, but he can’t say that he minds the surprise.

“Wow…” he can help but to mutter, looking at the view. He can see all of Coruscant from here, all its vibrant colors, lights that shine so bright against the darkness of the sky…

It’s like he can feel how alive the city is, but without getting directly involved in it: a pleasant spot for observation, where he can enjoy the calm without having to be involved in something that would inevitably disrupt it.

He notices Dogma by his side only when he speaks - which makes him jump a little, but thankfully neither of them says anything about it. “Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” Rex replies then, only to turn towards the other. “Do you come here often?”

“When I can,” Dogma replies. “I like it here… It’s quiet.”

Yeah, Rex has gathered that already, and he understands Dogma completely.

In a moment of bravado, Rex circles Dogma’s waist with his arm, pulling him closer. Dogma looks surprised for a moment, but he doesn’t seem to mind Rex’s initiative, if anything because he actually leans into him, instead of pushing him away.

“Thanks for showing this to me,” Rex says then, truly meaning each and every word.

“It’s nothing,” Dogma replies. “We never get to spend much time together, so I wanted to take you somewhere special.”

“That you did, that you did…”

Neither of them says anything else, focusing instead on the view all around them, the lights, the muffled noises.

It’s a special kind of sensation sharing this with someone who you have an interest towards, something that neither Rex nor Dogma ever though they’d get to feel, but life is funny like that.

… They could get used to this.

Tag list: @maulusque​ @snap-p​ @menac-ika @captainrexwouldnever @anameofanykind If you want to be added feel free to let me know! Just know that if you are a minor you’ll be tagged only for the sfw fics.

#assorted clonecest fics #clonecest #cloneshipping #rexdogma #captain rex #clone trooper dogma #my fics

[sneezefiction]

dreaming of you

Sugawara x Reader - Scenario

@0hakaashi‘s request: “can I request suga with #11 (dreams)? ty💕”

a/n: sometimes you write fluff... sometimes that fluff is sickeningly sweet and makes you want to cry out of pure comfort and warmth. have a little taste of that with Sugawara tonight, my loves <3

warnings: none!

wc: 1750

---

Sugawara’s apartment has seen some pretty crazy things.

It witnessed that wild, drunk dancing phase of yours that knocked over way more than just a few breakable items. Your first kisses as a couple and endless domestic, morning pecks with the ever-so gentle boy. It watched as a multitude of sleepovers went from being strict study nights to early morning giggles thanks to distractions like a new song release, Napoleon Dynamite dance routine attempts, and melted ice cream on cherry-tinted lips.

The poster-covered walls knew you better than some of your closest friends. You’d left your mark there. With little, accidental chips and water-stains on wooden furniture. On that old, grey carpet that caught several pain-induced tears, while the rest of your crying was usually muffled by Suga’s thin, white t-shirts. By adding a toothbrush as well as shampoo and conditioner to his bathroom.

You, Sugawara, and this nostalgia-drenched apartment have experienced quite a lot.

And, even if it hasn’t all been perfect, you’ve been lavished in over a year's worth of sunkissed memories. Days that would always start snuggled up under his chin, feeling the reassuring rise and fall of his sturdy chest. With the tenderest of touches, he’d caress your cheek using the back of his hand every morning without fail. Every time you opened your eyes to his chestnut-brown irises, your heart would flutter involuntarily. 

It almost seems fake. That this world, which used to be dull and lifeless, could paint itself into a rainbow of colors only the two of you could see.

Once again, you’re splayed across his bed on your stomach, stopping the gentle sway of your legs and placing your phone down in front of you to see Suga’s silvery tufts of hair, his honey-brown eyes gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling.

You’d spent the night at his place again and, as per usual, the morning is quiet. The first 20 or so minutes filled with stretching, phone-scrolling, and snuggles.

He reaches his slender hands upward, stretching his arms toward the open air of the quiet bedroom.

A heavy, golden stream of sunlight casts the shadow of a window onto your wall, along with the outlines of his fingers and thumbs. But as soon as he loses interest in the gleaming sunrise colors that dripped down his hand, Suga drops his arm and lifts himself up to face you, seeking an answer.

Words as soft as a young bird’s feathers ruffle the silence of the cool air.

“Would you be mad if I got super cheesy right now?” Suga asks cooly, his question genuine.

You tilt your head, a small smirk forming because you’ve seen this face before. It’s the look you got before he lavished you with sweet sayings and almost sickening, lovey-dovey phrases.

You used to fuss at him, flick his forehead, cover your face in embarrassment… the whole nine-yards just to avoid his compliments and the tingly feelings that followed.

“I have a feeling you’re just gonna say it anyways, so you might as well.” You roll your eyes, propping yourself up on your elbows and using the palms of your hands to hold your chin.

“You know me so well.” A cheeky grin spreads across his face.

Suga shifts himself up and over to you as he gently lays his head onto your middle.

It’s a tingly, ticklish sensation. His consistent show of closeness and affection always had you melting into him, like clay being warmed by a careful potter's knowing hands. Your hands automatically start carding through his unreasonably soft hair and he hums into the touch before continuing his thoughts.

“Y/n, you’re so good to me.” He breathes out, beginning to build his web of thoughts.

“Things have just… flowed well for me ever since you came into my life.” Suga tilts his head back into your brushing fingers and strokes your thigh with the back of his hand.

“You always make me laugh, you understand me, and wow are you gorgeous. You’re pretty much perfect.” He says while a smile forms on his visage and heat rises to your own face along with a copycat smile of your own.

But the conversation takes an unusual turn.

“And, well, I dunno...”

“...sometimes it almost feels a bit unreal.”

He huffs out an amused sigh because the words sound much funnier out loud than they did in his head. But he might as well continue. You’ve heard him say much weirder, far more… questionable things.

You tug lightly at his sterling strands. With a soft, “Mhmm,” and an unseen smile, you prompt him to continue.

“I’m serious! You’ve somehow even managed to work your way into my dreams most nights, actually.” He admits, letting out a breathy laugh, your own soft giggle following.

He notes how nice it is to feel you laugh against his head, mentally snap-shotting the moment. But Sugawara wants to add one more thing, twisting the moment slightly. Something that could potentially pause that splendid laughter.

“...so when I wake up, I always wonder if you’ll actually still be there... y’know, with me...” The hand that was once twirling his hair now pauses its movements.

You shift yourself upwards so that you’re sitting with your back snug against the bed’s headboard, moving Suga’s head to be in the center of your lap.

With his face more readily availble to you, you’re now tracing the outline of his features while processing his words, gazing deeply into an unreadable expression.

“So you’re trying to tell me…” You brush a few strands of hair away from his eyes, cocking your head to the side with a look that says, ‘Are you being serious right now?’

“...that because things are going so well right now...”

You lean in closer to his face, which lays perpendicular to your own. “...hell, maybe a little too well...”

“...and because I somehow interfere with your subconscious while you’re asleep…” Your nose brushes gently against his, a small flush coloring his pale skin.

“...that you’re worried I might just up and leave you someday?” You quirk an eyebrow and a small smirk appears on your face.

It was an unfounded insecurity... and most insecurities don’t like to listen to logic.

He averts his gaze, a hint of embarrassment flashing in his eyes.

You hover over his face a little longer before tilting your head to ghost your lips meticulously over his.

Even though you’ve taken the initiative, it’s impossible to not get a little flustered with his minty breath gently fanning over your face. You become acutely aware of the subtle shifting of his hands, pressing ever so slightly into the bed at your close contact.

Suga’s golden-brown eyes close and just as he lifts his head off your lap to steal a kiss, you teasingly lean back earning the sweetest of pouts in return.

At your refusal to appease him, Suga rolls his head to the side, avoiding eye-contact with you.

“Well now I just feel silly.” He sulks, face jokingly downcast and blush lightly tinting the apples of his cheeks.

You can’t help but chuckle softly. Your boyfriend has always been a funny one, but it’s hard for you to believe that he would have so little faith in you. Even if it was a passing doubt, you never wanted him to think that the absence of good times meant that you would leave him too.

Because Suga had made a point of always being there.

Always sticking around. Never leaving you, a teammate, a family member, or even a lost stranger behind. He would take anyone by the hand and lead them to a safe place with utmost care. Hell, you bet that even in his dreams, he would still clasp your fingers tightly with his and not let go unless you absolutely begged him… though you doubt that the dream version of youself would ever be stupid enough to ask Suga to untwine your hand from his.

So you decide to be the cheesy one for a change.

You lean over him once more, but this time you use both of your palms to draw his face toward yours. A beautiful, squinty smile adorns your once teasing expression and greets his soft, pouty one. You proceed by blowing cool air into his eyes, causing him to shut them in mild discomfort, which allows you to sneakily take his lips into yours, melding them together tenderly.

He immediately responds by lifting up one of his hands to caress your face, deepening the sleepy, sunrise kiss.

It’s warm and comforting.

And as though a cool breeze had just brushed over your skin, you feel a shiver run down your arms when Suga gently tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth.

Sitting up a little, Sugawara finds himself taking in your saccharine taste. His thumb pleasantly skims over your cheek causing you to smile slightly, breaking the flow of the slow kiss.

As you pull away, you could almost melt at the adoring gaze Sugawara gifts you with. All he can do is blink gratefully at you while relishing in the rare, precious silence. He’s right in front of you, sitting up just enough for the sunlight to catch his silver hair, gracing it with a shimmering gold halo of sorts.

You let out a contented sigh and lean forward to place your forehead on top of his shoulder, inhaling his clean lavender scent. It’s fresh and soft. A little smoky even? It might be from that cologne you gave him last Christmas. Nostalgia combined with a hint of sweetly fragranced detergent. You hum into his white t-shirt and he rests his cheek onto the side of your head.

At his touch, you simply decide that he smells like home.

“Hey Suga…?” You whisper through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Hmm?”

“You’re a little weird...” A humorous, closed-mouth smile forms on both of your faces.

“Hey now, I thought we were having a moment?” Suga sighs into your hair, some of the lose strands tickling your ear in the process.

“Let me finish!” You quietly huff in mock exasperation.

He nods and you sink a little deeper into the crook of his neck, prompting him to place his arms around you to pull you closer.

“I was gonna say: you’re a little weird, but I’m glad I’ve somehow made my way into your dreams.”

There’s a pause, a breath, and an exhalation.

“I’m glad because I always want to be with you. Whether it’s here in the real world or up there in your pretty little head.”

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @miss-rin, @shou-kunn, @senkuwu-chan, @super-noya, @stcrryskies, @holaaaf, @sugacookiies, @vintgicals, @moonlightaangel, @starboybokuto

(comment, dm, or send an ask to be added to my general tag list)

#haikyuu!! #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi #sugawara #haikyuu x reader #sugawara fluff #hq #hq scenarios #hq imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #sugawara fanfiction #sugawara scenarios #karasuno #haikyuucreations #sneezefiction

[solletichi]

Self-Improvement

okay so i havent tortured kokichi in a long time and i had this WONDERFUL idea where basically kokichi wants to start lying less and stuff to get shuichi to like him more (bc i love oumasai) so he asks miu for help, and miu ends up making him a uniform that tickles him whenever he lies or is a brat or WHATEVER and yeah so enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~

“This is stupid.”

“Hey! Don’t call my invention stupid! It’s pure genius!”

“You made a shirt that’ll tickle me whenever I lie? What do you think I am, five?”

“Listen up shota!” Miu lifted her goggles up from her face, stepping away from her workbench. “You wanted something that’ll stop you from lying so you can impress Shuichi and this is what I came up with!”

Kokichi glanced down at the shirt he was wearing, which Miu practically shoved him into. Appearance-wise, it looked exactly like his usual shirt, as it was made from one of his spare uniforms. However, lining the inside of the shirt were dozens of feathers and even miniature claws, ready to launch into action at any time. And to make it even worse, it was programmed so that only Miu could take it off of him.

“How does this thing even work?” he asked curiously.

“The shirt is activated by this remote right here, so that the person controller it can remotely tickle you every time you misbehave!” She held up a small, grey remote with a single switch on it. “It’s a homemade masochism machine, gyahaha! It’s perfect for you!” she sneered, cackling.

“Sooo... you’ll just activate this shirt whenever you feel like it?” he questioned. “No offense, but I don’t trust a pea-brained bitchlet like you to control something like this.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not gonna be the one controlling it!” she smirked.

“Yeah, yeah... Wait, what?”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the door to Miu’s lab.

“Miu? Kokichi? Are you guys in there?” the voice asked. The door creaked open and in came Kaito, who grinned once he saw the other two. “There you guys are!”

Kokichi whipped his head around and glared at Miu, causing her to smirk even wider. He pulled her to the side, whispering to her.

“You did not rope him into this!”

“Relax! He’s around Poo-ichi all the time, so he’ll be there to stop you from lying in front of him!”

Kokichi sighed, rubbing his temples. Miu’s reasoning did make sense, but having Kaito be the one in control... This was going to be interesting...

“Fine!” Kokichi whispered before turning around to walk back over to Kaito, with Miu following him.

“Thanks for helping us out with this!” Miu cheered, beyond herself with excitement.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” he smirked, looking at Kokichi.

Miu tossed the remote over to Kaito while Kokichi sulked. “Here, catch!”

Kaito caught the remote and held it in his hand, observing it.

“Mind if I test it out?” he positioned his thumb over the switch, preparing to turn it on.

“Go ahead!” Miu leaned back on her desk, preparing herself for the show.

Kaito switched the remote on, activating the shirt. Immediately, Kokichi was attacked with tickles from all angles as the shirt worked its magic.

“PFT- AHAHAHAHAHA!” Kokichi doubled over with laughter, clutching his sides. Feathers wiggled under his arms and on his stomach, paying special attention to the area in and around his navel. Meanwhile, tiny claws squeezed at his hips and sides, as well as drumming into his ribs. The sensation was intense and visceral, like electric shocks coursing throughout his entire body.

“Ha! This is amazing!” Kaito spoke over Kokichi’s crazed cackles. “Who knew Kokichi was so ticklish!”

“Hell yes! It works!” Miu shouted triumphantly.

“P-PLEHEAHEAZE!” Kokichi felt his body growing weaker, and he could do little but laugh as his torment continued. “NAHAHAHAHA!”

Reluctantly, Kaito pressed the switch back on the remote, turning the shirt off for now. Kokichi just stood there panting, blinking tears out of his eyes.

“Hah... That was torture...”

“You better not be a brat or I’ll tickle ya for twice as long!” Kaito said confidently, holding the remote up. Kokichi winced.

“Well, off you go!” Miu was surprisingly quick to shove the two of them out of her lab. “Let me know if you need anything!” Shutting the door in their faces, she left Kaito and Kokichi alone to go about the rest of their day.

As soon as they had been shoved out of Miu’s lab, Kokichi immediately tried to make a run for it, but Kaito grabbed him by the arm before he could go anywhere.

“Not so fast!” Kokichi pouted in response. “What do you say we go get lunch? Shuichi and Maki Roll are waiting for me.”

“Oh great, I’d love to spend my afternoon with you and your loser friends.” Kokichi complained. “Sounds exciting.”

Kaito promptly switched the remote on, sending Kokichi into hysterics once more.

“FAHAHACK! OKAYOKAYOKAHAHAY I’M SOHOHOREEE!” Kokichi cried. Heeding his apology, Kaito switched the remote off.

“Any other smart comments you wanna make?” Kaito kept his thumb on the switch as a silent threat. Kokichi shook his head, gathering his composure.

“Good. Now let’s go.”

Kaito and Kokichi made their way to the cafeteria, mostly walking in silence. That was, until they ran into Kiibo.

“Sup, Kiibo?” Kaito greeted.

“Hello. Where are you two going?” Kiibo responded.

“We’re heading to the dining hall to grab some lunch! Wanna come?” Kaito offered.

“I would, but... I don’t have the ability to eat. Professor Idabashi didn’t equip me with that function.” Kiibo said sadly.

Kokichi scoffed, giggling a bit to himself. “Poor Kiiboy! Guess that just proves that...” He cut himself off, noticing the way that Kaito was smirking at him. Kokichi gulped.

“Hm? What was that, Kokichi?” Kiibo asked.

“Yeah, Kokichi...” Kaito teased. “What were you saying?”

Backed into a corner, Kokichi had no choice but to say something next. Given that he couldn’t lie or insult Kiibo, there were little options as to what he could say.

“Uh... I said, why don’t you come with us anyway, Kiibo? We would... love to have you with us...?” Kokichi stammered glancing at Kaito for approval.

Kiibo hesitated with his response, clearly having been expecting a robophobic comment. “I wish I could, but I’m scheduled for maintenance in Miu’s lab. Next time, perhaps.” Kiibo looked towards the small remote that Kaito was still holding. “What is that device that you’re holding?”

“Oh, this? It’s, uh...”

“It’s the detonator for a bomb I hid somewhere in the school! I gave it to Kaito so he could take the blame for the explosion!” Kokichi said excitedly, before realizing that he just doomed himself.

“What?! Now that has to be a lie, Kokichi!” Kiibo pointed accusingly at him.

“W-Wait! That’s not what I meHEHEANT!! EEYAHAHAHAHA!” Kokichi started cackling once more as Kaito flicked the switch on, but fortunately he switched it back off after only a few seconds.

“Um, Kokichi...? What’s so funny?” Kiibo asked, clearly confused.

“N-Nothing! I mean...” Kokichi pondered his options mentally before settling on the safest one. “See ya, Kiiboy!” He bolted off towards the cafeteria, with Kaito soon following after he gave Kiibo a small wave.

Kaito chuckled once he caught up with Kokichi, “Is it really that hard for you to not harass Kiibo?”

“Yes. God I wanted to insult him so bad.” Kokichi confessed, surprisingly honest.

The two of them walked a little more before arriving at the dining hall, where Shuichi and Maki were waiting. Kirumi was also there, serving them food as diligently as always.

Kaito waved to them, “Hey guys! I hope you don’t mind, but I brought Kokichi with me!”

In response to seeing Kokichi, Maki scowled, while Shuichi just laughed a bit nervously. They sat down across from Maki and Shuichi, while Kirumi placed down a plate of mini sandwiches.

“I, uh, didn’t expect you two of all people to be hanging out together...” Shuichi stammered.

“Since when are you two friends?” Maki narrowed her eyes at the two of them.

A mixture of half-assed excuses came from both boys, equally frazzled in their attempts to cover up the truth. At least Kaito hid the remote in his pocket this time, so that it wasn’t visible. At least not to the others.

Kokichi, however, could clearly see the remote, only inches away from his hand. Screw trying to lie less... if he could grab that remote, he could say all the mean things that he wants! He waited until Kaito was adequately distracted, and then...

He carefully plucked the remote out of Kaito’s pocket and closed his fist around it. Kokichi grinned to himself, having successfully completed this operation.

“...What are you smiling about?” Maki directed her question at Kokichi, who in turn smiled even wider.

“Is the killer girl worried about me? How adorable!” Kaito searched his pocket for the remote but it was nowhere to be found. Kokichi smirked. “And here I was, thinking you had no heart!”

Checking his other pocket and doing a quick scan of the area around him, it didn’t take Kaito long to realize that the remote had been stolen.

“Looking for this?” Kokichi held the remote just out of Kaito’s reach, snickering when he tried but failed to grab it.

“Kokichi! Give that back!” The two bickered, ignoring Shuichi and Maki’s confused questions of what it was that Kokichi was holding.

“No can do, spaceman!” Kokichi stood up from the table, closing the remote in his fist again. “See ya!”

Before Kokichi could sprint off, Kaito stood up and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him towards him. Being considerably stronger, Kaito was able to force Kokichi’s hand open and grab the remote, switching it on as soon as possible.

“AH! GAHAHAHAHA NOOO!” Kokichi yelped as the shirt got back to work, tickling him with renewed vigor. “SHIHIHIHIT NAHAHAHAHA!”

“Ha! That’s what you deserve you little shit!” Kaito said proudly, holding the remote up in the air.

“Kaito...? What is that thing?” Shuichi asked, speaking more than enough for him and Maki, both of them bewildered and confused.

“Oh! This is a remote that Miu made! When you switch it on it tickles the crap outta Kokichi!”

“And you had it because...?”

“Miu wanted me to turn it on every time Kokichi lied or was being annoying...” he glanced at Kokichi, who was clutching at his stomach, doubled over with laughter. Kaito smirked when Kokichi’s knees buckled and he fell to the ground. “I’d say it’s working pretty well.”

“GAHAHAHAHAD MAHAHAKE IHIHIT STOHOHOP!” Kokichi practically screeched. “I’M SOHOHOREEHEE!!”

“Alright, that’s enough. I guess I should- oof!” As Kaito turned around he bumped into Kirumi, who was carrying a tray of drinks. A few glasses of water spilled onto his arm and on the remote, causing it to short-circuit.

“...Uh oh.”

“My apologies. I will fetch towels for the both of us. Excuse me.”

Kaito wasn’t even thinking about the water that was spilled on him. All he could focus on was...

“BWAHAHAHAHA FUHUHUHUCK EHEEHEEHEE!” Kokichi was kicking and squirming, flailing like a madman on the ground. The others watched in awe, too shocked to figure out what to do. Eventually, the tickling abruptly stopped, leaving Kokichi in a haze of shivers and after giggles.

Panting quite heavily, he stood up on shaky legs, muttering curse words under his breath.

“Gotta... f-find Miu... get me out of this thing...” Kokichi wobbled out of the cafeteria, off to get Miu to help him out of the shirt.

Meanwhile, Kaito, Shuichi and Maki continued their lunch, trying to ignore the spectacle they had just witnessed. Eventually, Kirumi returned with towels, and the trio went on with their day, completely forgetting about the incident.

#HERE IT IS #I SPENT ALL DAY ON THIS BUT IDC IDC #ENJOY IT #ITS ALMOST 2K WORDS #i mean a lot of it is set up but still #exquisite torture for kokichi #enjoy! #tickling #tickle fic #my writing #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #kokichi ouma #kaito momota #maki harukawa #shuichi saihara #miu iruma #kirumi tojo #oumasai #saiouma #oumota

[herstarburststories]

Quarantine Boredoom (Dick Grayson x Reader)

✾ A/N: It’s been a certain couple of months since I wrote smut/erotica, but here you go! Although, I think it’s better classified as silly porn aka Nightwing’s type? Anyway! Thanks to my friend for being my beta for this one.

✾ Request: hiya! i saw that your requests are open and then i had a mini asthma attack because i had come back from binge reading your masterlist oops,,,,that got me thinking,,,how funny would it be if reader has asthma and just has to use their puffer during sex? like could you imagine if that were to happen to dick or jason? i’d like to see that happen 👀 also your writing is absolutely amazing!!! keep up the good work!! 💕👌🏻🤠

✾ Disclaimer: fingering.

A purposefully loud huff escaped your lips when your body met Dick's couch. He looked away from the copy of Robin Hood in his hand to raise an eyebrow, but the only response he received was a dramatic sigh.

"(Y/N), are you okay?" Bludhaven's protector ultimately asked, placing his book on the desk to offer his girlfriend unrestricted attention.

"I’ve never been so bored in my life," you grunted, tilting your head in one of your best dramatic performances. "Quarantine isn’t as fun as it looks in the movies."

"I'm sure zombies will appear and we’ll convert to cannibalism soon, (Y/N). Don't worry," Dick replied, humor obvious in his tone. You rolled your eyes, huffing once more. "Also, it’s only been two days. You can't be that bored, right?"

"Easy for you to talk, Nightwing. You still go out on patrol every night. Something you shouldn't do, by the way." You changed the subject of conversation, returning to a topic which you and Dick widely disagreed. Fortunately, the acrobat had an idea of ​​how to entertain you and change the subject to something less likely to end up with him sleeping in the room he currently resided in.

"You know I can’t abandon my role, (Y/N). Especially at a time like this. I take the necessary precautions, like using my sticks instead of punching them in the face, don't worry." His patented wink was followed by the classic playful smile. Before you could rationalize the joke, he continued, "But I might have a hint of ​​how to get you rid of your boredom..."

The suggestive tone in his speech caught your interest instantaneously. "I would love to hear your idea, Dick Grayson."

Grayson's next words evaporated upon his lips, giving space to a malicious smirk as his body leaned over yours on the couch. His mouth easily found its home; your lips, into the slow, lazy beginnings of a kiss.

When you drink for the first time, it is easy to get drunk. Then, you start drinking on more occasions and your limit increases. Two glasses are needed when, a while ago, it would take just one. The organism gets used to it and needs more to achieve the sensation of the first time. With Dick, it always felt like the first time. It didn't matter if he had kissed you two minutes or two months ago; every single touch of him reached a new layer of everything good that someone could transfer to another person, like discovering a new exciting part of yourself.

His hand cupped your cheek, drawing you closer in. The world existed outside that apartment, each minute still had sixty seconds, and Dick Grayson was willing to spend all of them making your body reach a new level of highness for him, without even needing more doses of change to do so. Your heart felt like it was tied to his touch and his only. Dick's hand slowly fell down on the side of your face. His thumb pulled down your lower lip, a farewell present in the intense softness of the gesture.

You giggled, and Richard smiled at you. The playful fingers began their private journey in search of paradise itself on earth. More murmurous kisses were offered as bargain and readily accepted by you. It was a small distraction from the new heights your body was reaching.

Fingers from your chin to jaw, his tongue found yours and caressed it as if he were trained for it. Kissing him was like a dance, it always had been. Grayson's hand stopped on your neck for a moment, but there was no trace of pressure there. Dick just kept dancing, holding on; you wanted to wrap your legs around him, offer some comfort to your wet pussy, even if it was just pressing it against his erection, which was now hard against your leg, to make his self-control more difficult. Yet, you knew better than that. He would have already pulled your legs if that was the plan. His fingerprints on your chest indicated the antics the hero wanted to use.

Dick placed his lips on your neck, lavishing attention upon that spot as much as he wanted. You closed your eyes, unable to decide what you liked most: the bites and gentle suction on your neck or the tender fingers that were already on your stomach. Your hips moved of their own will, seeking the carnal solace you craved as you moaned softly. The former Robin laughed in pleasure at your neediness, moving away from his little branding job to look you in the eyes. He loved to watch you like this, spreading your legs for him while his hand found its way inside your pants.

And now, looking at you and feeling wetness in your panties, Dick decided to keep it a bit slow, as if to see how far you would go. After all, it had been three long weeks without sexual activity. Between his work of detective division vigilante and yours in full-time journalism, 24 hours weren't always enough, but in this moment, all he had to worry about was how needy for him you could get.

Grayson's digits circled your vulva, playing on the edges of its outer lips until he received an impatient sigh from you. He laughed, temporarily satisfied. You looked at him, ready to tell him to do what he knew how to do, but you were silenced by one of his fingers entering your vagina. You pressed your lips together and pushed hips towards him, a nonverbal way of saying that you wanted more. Dick, however, just moved his finger out of your reach. It caused you to open your eyes, stunned.

"Dick!" You were breathless, probably from the rush of sensations he had been — and was supposed to still be — making you experience.

"What?" There was false innocence in his voice that contradicted everything that was happening, especially when he took the finger that was inside you to his mouth and sucked, expression shifting into contentment. "You taste so good, baby. Imagine when you're coming for me."

"Richard John Grayson, if you don’t put— Fuck." The ensuing groan encompassed an ugly word. One of his fingers was still inside you while the other was pressed to your clitoris.

"How am I making you feel, huh?" he asked, despite knowing the answer as well as he knew your sweet spots. Adding another finger, Dick started looking for your G-spot, clitoris being well taken care of by his ring finger. Fuck, he was almost salivating by just thinking about eating you out, your taste, putting his tongue in the warm, wet place his fingers were, but for now, Grayson wanted to watch you enjoy yourself. It was in the way you bit your lip, whimpered for it and moved your hips to get more as if you didn't already have it all when it came to Dick Grayson. "Am I making you feel good?"

"I..." The weight on your chest worsened significantly, almost as if you had put a rock there. You mentally screamed at yourself. Fuck, out of all possible times, you had to be literally running out of breath while your pussy— Come on! The only good thing was that you knew your own body language well enough to quickly understand what was going on. "Dick, I can't breathe."

Dick, on the other hand, was too involved in taking you apart to reach the same conclusion as you.

"I’m making you breathless now?" Indigo eyes meet yours, full of lust. For a millisecond, you wondered if you could handle the random crisis, or if you could be confused about two different things with similar symptoms. That is until the shortness of breath had gotten worse. Fuck.

Well, the opposite of fuck now.

"No, Di— FUCK!" Feeling like the air wasn’t getting into your lungs and the fact that your boyfriend had just found a certain spot inside you while simultaneously rubbing your clitoris didn’t help you remember how to breathe. "I’m literally... My puffer!"

"Wh-- Oh my God, your inhaler!" Mentioning your little miraculous friend that wasn’t between his legs finally brought Detective Grayson's dormant instincts to the surface. He almost jumped away from you, hastily looking for the inhaler. "I'm sorry— I thought... Wait." The scene would be comical if you weren’t coughing in despair, gasping for air and yet simultaneously turned on. He found the puffer on the floor, beside the desk, and handed it to you. Relieved and mildly frustrated, you forced oxygen back into your body for a few moments. You forced yourself to calm down until the inhaler could be discarded next to Dick's book where it originally was.

You faced each other. What could be said? Sorry for forgetting how to breathe while you fingered me? Sorry for confusing your moans of "I can’t breathe’’ for "You’re making me breathless"? Can we agree never to use this expression again? So, I almost died, but am I still up for it? Is my cock still hard after your near-death experience?

For the second time in the evening, words were passed over to make room for another way of communication. The two of you burst out laughing, loud and scandalous. What the fuck just happened? A few good minutes later and you looked at Dick with a smile, your hand full of sin located on his thigh.

"We still got plenty of time. You know, quarantine perks."

Noises of 'you are unbelievable' from him were drowned out by a few more giggles, which soon gave way to corny moans. Perhaps the last two options were the right things to say.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson headcanon #dick grayson headcanons #dick grayson imagine #imagine dick grayson #batboys headcanon #batboys headcanons #batboys imagine #batboys imagines #batboys x reader #batboys x you #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #nightwing imagines #nightwing imagine #imagine nightwing #batfamily #Batfamily Headcanon #batfamily headcanons #batfamily x reader #batfam #batfam headcanons #batfam headcanon #batfam x reader #batfam imagines #batfamily imagines #titans imagines #dick grayson

[an-orca-on]

So, funny story ... I’m the Indoraptor from Jurassic World.

Or rather, I’m an Indoraptor. And I knew long before I ever saw the movie.

I thought it might be interesting to tell this story, so that folks out there could see there is a range of experiences to fictionkin just like there are in every other type of kinmunity.

First off, a bit of my personal opinions on the spiritual basis of otherkin. For me, being kin is mostly a spiritual thing. There’s the odd case out where it’s a comfort/coping thing, but for the most part the kintypes I have are based in alternate lives of mine and I have discrete and specific memories of them, which is why I feel comfortable calling them kintypes. Not everyone is like this, and that’s fine! You do you. This is just my process. Now mylo, why did you say alternate lives and not past? Because I believe that we are connected to our other selves throughout time and space. Bits of the larger energy we call “me” can distribute through many planes of reality and many spaces in time. So they’re not always this plane of reality, and they’re not always “past”. You can tap into other energies and experience things from that life strongly enough to affect you now.

Okay, enough of that. You said the Indoraptor, right? As in the genetically engineered monster dino from InGen?

Yeah, I did. The story starts way the fuck back in about 2010 or so, way before it ever existed as a piece of media. (It actually goes back even further to when I thought I was dragonkin, but that’s too much to even write about here.) I started having these very specific, strange auric shifts. They were strong enough that it changed the sensory perception of my body, which is not very common for me. I did a lot of meditating on it, trying to piece together these sensations into a coherent shape. The more I let myself sink into the mindset of this mystery creature, the more I started to sense the environment around it and get small glimpses of what life was like for it. This took several months, a ton of talking with friends, journalling, meditating, journeying, etc.

Now, it wasn’t exactly 100% clear. There were something that I just couldn’t rectify with any creature I knew of, and I’ll get to that in a second. What I knew was:

1: Deinonychus shaped body and posture. 2: The muzzle is kinda stubby and rounded at the end and has many teeth. 3: Raptor feet 4: Long hands with three fingers and a thumb, very dexterous 5: Not the best eyesight but great hearing 6: Big tail 7: Quills along the head/neck but not full feathers 8: Some sort of sunlight/gold color dappling

And I had some inklings about its personality, environment, and memories:

1: Violent. Not like a predator, but vicious. 2: Lived in some sort of laboratory. Lots of white and glass. Very few windows, but they looked out on tropical plants. 3: Kinda sickly? It never really felt well, or right. 4: The Goo Tubes. It’s a classic sci-fi trope, you know the ones I mean. 5: Got a lot of attention when it was smaller, but it grew rapidly and people became scared of it quickly. 6: Was intelligent enough to understand more words than they thought it could. It knew a lot of what they were doing to it. Definitely self-aware. 7: Great climber. 8: Did not live as long as it should have, for health reasons.

I had a lot of trouble with the “health reasons.” I could tell that it wasn’t well, and that it struggled with pain and strange sensations in its limbs and potentially experiments and surgeries. Because I’m me and I love robots, somehow my brain translated this as meaning this creature was a cyborg. Yes, I thought I was a cyborg dinosaur for awhile. There’s a reason I didn’t really talk about this kintype, lmao. At the time this made sense from a psychological perspective, because I was going through a lot of shit and “creature that’s been made from a bunch of parts that don’t really fit and suffers for it” was something I could really identify with. I knew it was probably super unlikely, but I didn’t have any other answers at the time.

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom came out in 2018. When I saw the indoraptor for the first time, I almost hollered out loud in the theatre. If you don’t know what it looks like, here’s a great render from Arrancon on DeviantArt:

Holy SHIT.

It hits EVERY ONE OF THE EIGHT POINTS on the first list.

And then they talk about it being completely designed in a lab.

As a vicious weapon.

Using sound.

And it knowingly tricks someone into opening its cage.

And it scales a building a roof like nothing.

Oh holy shit that’s me.

This is THE most sudden and visceral Awakening I have ever experienced. I barely remembered the end of the movie after seeing the Indoraptor for the first time, I was just so shocked and emotional. That’s me.

However, there’s one big glaring difference between me-Indo and the movie-Indo. Spoiler alert: movie-Indo gets loose, kills a bunch of people, and dies in spectacularly gory fashion. Even with the limited scope of my memories, I knew this wasn’t what happened to me. What I figured eventually was that there had to be other attempts at the Indoraptor. Other experiments or previous versions that didn’t work out so well and didn’t make it. Maybe not in the movie-universe, but maybe in others.

But way, way before I ever knew about this movie, I had these feelings. Finally having a framework to put them in was awesome and exciting, even if I didn’t feel comfortable sharing with many people, because... well, y’all know what fictionkin culture can be like. However, I think it’s extremely important to realize that there are people who have this experience all the time. It’s not by any means the only way to experience fictionkin, but I think it’s more common than a lot of non-kin realize. Respectability politics are BS. You can be a Serious Therian and also be fictionkin, and both can be fun.

If you made it to the end of this LONG ASS POST, congrats! I don’t usually write posts this long. If you have any questions feel free to send me an ask or @ or whatever. This blog is gonna remain orca stuff, don’t worry about it turning into a Jurassic Park blog. ;p Have a great day!

#otherkin #fictionkin

[aresrl]

Hi ! I saw you were doing genshin matchups can i have one including my vision, friends, enemy and my romantic partner ? In other words can i have the whole formula haha ? I like to write on the spot so i may during my description express myself as if i was the funniest clown or jump on subjects & subjects… Please indulge me in advance :)

So starting by essential infos : i go by she/her, am 18 and would like to be paired up w a male. It can be a funny info depending of my results so i am going to say one thing about my apparence : i am on the taller side for a girl, being 173cm. Personality wise : I can be described as creative, honest, competitive, independent, rebellious, smart, playful and chaotic.

Overall i am ambiverted but can be for some hard to approach cause of my resting mean face or the way i am direct w words. I like to think a lot but am what you can call a mix of rationality and irrationality. I like to process all possibilities like a crazy sciencist, learning about new things making a step closer to the truths this world can hold to have my own perception and apply what i think is justice ? Ah, Watch me being all philosophical yet people like to call me coleric but i guess it’s just on jealousy as i obviously do of sort to make decisions w my head rather than my heart / semi ironic. but i am not immune to my own emotions even if i can hide them or bottles them up for a long time. I consider showing too much emotions as weakness and i do not like to be seen as vulnerable… So when i feel romantic feelings towards someone i also tend to feel kind of mixed up about this and do not know how to act, i use all my forces to hide my easily flustered self and then process to either flirt accidentally or act like my collected self so not so much, friendly but mysterious.

I value adaptability, quick thinking process, curiosity and detachement to social norms. I can be quite hard on myself despite not looking like your usual and organized perfectionist but do not mind facing others adversity. My hobbies consist of drawing, writing, reading, listening to music like everyone on this platform lol but add learning new things and playing all sort of games no considering their nature, also i like from time to time to cook even if i am far from being an expert but i absolutely no take slander on my skills and i do physical activities as i pay attention to my condition and want to still be able to fight whoever mess w me or run after whoever mess w me too. I take interest in psychology, history, social, economics, philosophy and languages. Currently stduying law to be the weirdest avocate. I like spicy food or just food in general, the sensation of the sun on my skin, poetry and art in all its forms. I like to take inspiration of my surroundings and am quite sensitive to things as rain, fire for that. If i wasn’t poor it would make complete sense that i like to travel, but it’s bound to not happen as i have also poor money management skills… My case is not as bad as Mr.Zhongli but i too have quite a detached relationship w money and try to not be involved in…. There’s like tons of people who owe me money but i am like too tired to even reclaim it and i guess it’s on my hidden generousity. Insert virtual sigh here, What can i add ? A fun fact about me ? During something like a week i have putted salt on my father water during summer cause i was angry at him and was laughing everyday cause he was complaining but couldn’t find the responsible ? And Till this days he don’t know it’s me ? Also i did write a 3k one shot about food flavor once, I think that’s enough embarrassment for me, thank you for doing this and I hope that’s enough and most importantly useful infos.

Okay, while reading you, I was like: “Ok, ok, calm down.” Here are your results

You received... A Pyro vision! Optimistic, enthusiastic, impulsive, reckless, and a lot of energy are the general characteristics held by the Pyro vision. • I said I wouldn't base myself on astrology and all but are you an Aries? The way you wrote your description instantly made me think of it, and the Pyro vision and this sign share the same energy. • So, the way you're writing is one of the reasons why you got a Pyro vision. • Even though you said you take your decisions with your head and not your heart, you seem very impulsive: someone made you feel bad? You will immediately plan your revenge. • You seem to have infinite energy to spend (especially on annoying people). Your partner would be... Childe! Chaotic couple. • Honestly, I think he's the only partner that could deal with you because he also likes to “cause quite the stir.” • He will manage “your” money. • He loves your softer self and will also be soft with you if he sees it. • Childe would be supportive with you, and sometimes you'd share totally different opinions on certain things so it can create interesting situations. Your friend would be... Xingqiu! Chaotic friends. • You share a common way of thinking, even though Xingqiu might be more sneaky. • Because you've got the same ideas, you always have fun together. • He's also one of the only ones that can deal with you. Your enemy would be... Chongyun! Leader of the “Victims of Y/n and Xingqiu” alliance. • Your curiosity didn't pass through Chongyun's condition, so it creates spectacular results. • He thinks that your plans are even more annoying than Xingqiu's. • He's at the edge of hating you because you never stop bothering him. Worth to mention • Yanfei could have seen you as a sort of rival, but eventually, you ended being her assistant. • Beidou likes your values. There! My final words for this are: you don't have anything to prove, and don't lose yourself.

#genshin requests #genshin matchups #genshin #genshin impact

[comelylust]

NSFW Alphabet -Miguel Rojo

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

It will depend on the type of sex you had if it was while you were both drunk, he will probably lie down next to you and start bothering to be hungry, He'll get up to the kitchen and prepare you food and something for your hangover 

If they are sober, he is not very talkative after sex, he will only ask if you are ok but he is a person who will fall asleep immediately, naked and probably without a blanket.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite part, probably his hands  good for hitting.

About his partner  would say that her breasts, loves to play with them and more with your nipples, can not help but make fun of you doing that. 

Something more innocent? his neck/shoulders, he likes to rest his head on your shoulders,when he gets naughty he likes to bite you

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Miguel's semen is normal, not so watery or thick, but it cums a lot.

He doesn't care about the pregnancy issue.

 So he hates using condoms, the sensation of latex makes him uncomfortable, (this only applies to his formal partner) he prefers to cum inside you and you drive him crazy when you beg him to do so.

He also has a guilty taste for cuming on your face (facial)

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

When you get angry with him and scold him, he thinks you look too hot playing the dominant role, he controls himself quite well but still doesn't avoid thinking about fucking you at that very moment.

Another secret is when he sees you fighting  he turns it on pretty fast.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Quite experienced in spite of this he never had a stable and lasting relationship until he met you, he knows what he is doing and uses it to his advantage, as you are the only person he really loves in the beginning he will be slow and gentle going towards vanilla.  After that, be prepared that you'll need a wheelchair

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

The classic doggystyle? Yeah, but! With variation to downward dog: he likes to carry you from behind, pull your hair and bend your arm over your back at first you find it strange because of the variation he makes, but the more he pushes you forget about it.        

Cowgirl, despite being a dominant man, does not mind using this position because it is easier to penetrate to the depths of your being, instead if he like it does not mean that he will always use, it depends on his  mood.

Any position that allows he to go deeper and hit your g-spot more easily, Anvil is perfect for this, when he it is about to cum he push your thighs to your chest giving him better access to your sweet spot.

 G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

If something funny or uncomfortable happens and he ignores it completely, he's too focused on doing something else to think about the embarrassing situation that just happened.

 H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

It grows naturally and will never be trimmed. It is as curly, dark and thick as him hair.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He is romantic in his way and at first may become uncomfortable, remembering that he is not used to this new feeling. When he feels comfortable during sex, he will let out a few words of affection for you

"You're really beautiful" "I love the way you move" etc...

 J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't masturbate even if you have bothered him with some sexy gesture, he prefers to have you but if you did it when he's about to leave for work he will keep a dirty image of you in his mind to keep him animated and when he comes home, he can punish you for what you did to him.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He's too kinky.

 choking: he's a fan of doing this when he's about to cum, obviously he'll do it carefully and safely so as not to kill you, but hard enough to make you breathless. He also enjoys spanking you and pulling your hair.

He can be a little sadistic about denying your an orgasm until you beg for it.

 L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Both of their homes are literally baptized because they can't wait to get to bed or because they really like to experience new places.

 M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Your flirtatious and insinuating smile, for him it's a pass to fuck you.

Putting on something nice that sticking out a favorite part of his body.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No humiliation allowed, or anything else nasty.

Likes to mark you with hickeys or bites but does not like to hurt you.

 O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He prefers to receive over give, you can also be jocular with him just when he is about to cums, get it out of your mouth. and make fun of him. It's a risk you have to take.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

At first it is sensual and slow, but when it becomes confident it becomes fast, messy and rough.

This does not mean that it will stop being slow but it will be combined with hard pushing.

 Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Yeah, if you're really in need or you've been away too long, get a quickie.

He never turns down a quickie.

 R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He likes to take risks but will not say so openly, one of them can be sex in public, he is not afraid of being caught as it can scare anyone who dares to look too much.

Try new positions when it comes to sex, but don't experience something that can be really dangerous

He really likes to experiment.

 S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can go 2-3 rounds but it is difficult to give an estimate of how long each round may last, even if you only go for one round your wishes will be satisfied.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't know much about sex toys, nor does he find them interesting, he prefers to take care of your needs. But if you really want to turn him on, send him a video of you using some of your toys.

 U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He lives to annoy you and likes to hold back your orgasm to the point that you're crying about it. He likes you to beg whether you crave his touch or to fuck you senseless.

 V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He is very loud, he moans, pant and grunts especially cursing in their language quite loudly, he is also good, quite good at dirty talk so much that every time you remember him you will be embarrassed.

 W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Maybe he's had one-night stands with a bunch of girls, Miguel didn't have the perception of reality much less loving someone since his sister was taken from him. But now since he met you, sex and lovemaking are totally different things.

Before he only focused on draining his frustrations, now he totally focuses on you and your pleasure even though he  put his emotions into it.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Its length and circumference is slightly above average and it is a little curved, the skin of its penis is darker, the glans is a dark reddish tone, it has veins a little more marked than average.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He has a fairly high sex drive, no self-control so he will always be sending you blatant hints to have sex.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

When he's done, he falls asleep right away without you doing anything, normally he sleeps on you crossing his legs with yours and one of his arms rests on your belly.

#Tekken #tekken miguel #miguel caballero rojo #miguel rojo x reader

[imagineredwood]

Gilly NSFW Alphabet

*I skipped D and W because I literally could not think of anything.*

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’s even more loving than usual. He takes you with him to shower or at the very least will wash you up before you take a nap. He looks after you, gets you water, cuddles you into his chest. He checks in on you, makes sure you feel alright, he tells you how beautiful you are to him.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He really doesn’t have much of a favorite part on himself, he doesn’t really care too much. If he had to pick, it’d probably be his chest just because he knows how much comfort it brings you. How you like to rest your head on it, how you lay your hands on it when close to him, how you slap him there playfully when he cracks too dark of a joke.

On you though, your ass is something that he would die for. He loves where your hips flare out into your ass, where your thighs thicken and meet your ass, where your lower back slopes down into your ass. Just your ass in general. He’d have your ass as the wallpaper on his phone if he wasn’t worried about someone seeing it. He’s always touching it, groping it, slapping it or when it’s just you two, kissing it. He just can’t get enough.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Nothing beats finishing on your ass and/or back. No need to explain why, really.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s got decent experience, both before and now during being with the club. He knows he lives a dangerous life and while he may not get around as much as some of the other members, he does know how to please a woman. He loves to give, to worship and make you feel as if you’re the only woman in the world. He learns your body and commits it to memory but is more than willing to try an learn some more every time.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

You on your back with your legs over his shoulders. He loves being able to look down at you, to see your face and everything else. He likes being able to have you locked in place, totally at his mercy to just take what he gives you. He enjoys having access and while other positions are great as well, he always seems to revert back to that one eventually. His close second favorite is you riding him for the same reasons.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He’s the goofiest of the bunch. The type to crack shitty jokes while he has his head between your thighs. The type to be kissing along your ankle and then run his finger up the sole of your foot. He likes for sex to feel free and natural, not ever like a chore or something that has to be serious. The only time he takes a more serious approach is when its make up sex after he’s fucked up.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He keeps it pretty well trimmed. Enough to where you can see it, but it’s never long enough to get in the way of anything.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He can be very romantic when he wants to be. He may be the funny guy, but he knows when to dial is back and be romantic to show you how much you mean to him. He always has a level of intimacy that he maintains, whether its knuckle kisses or forehead touches, he’s always making sure that you know you’re his girl and he’s crazy in love with you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He’s got 0 issues with jacking off. He doesn’t do it crazy often, but between runs, long nights and sometimes just being weighed down with club shit that he doesn’t want to bring home to you, sometimes he just takes care of himself until he knows he can give you 100 percent.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Overstimulation, butt plugs, light bondage

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He’s a regular dude. He most prefers to have you at home in your bed. He’ll have sex wherever you’re at so long as there’s privacy, but he loves nothing more than being in the comfort, safety and familiarity of his home.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

It doesn’t take much. He adores you and can get hard just by smelling a shirt of yours. All he has to do is start thinking about you, how beautiful you are and how much you mean to him and he’s ready.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No sharing, no exhibitionism, no heavy BDSM

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He prefers to give. He loves being able to have the focus on you and your pleasure. He loves feeling you grip at his shoulders and call his name, thighs quivering ever so slightly.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s usually more on the slow and sensual. He enjoys being able to be gentle with you, making love as opposed to just taking you roughly. Taking his time and making sure that he gives you his best every time is important to him and he enjoys being able to draw things out.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He isn’t opposed to them, but he’d rather just wait until he can have you all to himself for as long as he wants. He’ll have them every now and then, but he will always pick proper sex over a quickie.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s always game to experiment but not big in risk. He loves to learn and explore you body and try new things to see if its something you both can enjoy, but he very rarely will ever risk you being found and exposed. He doesn’t want anyone else seeing his girl like that.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He’ll last as long as you need him to. If he does finish too quickly, he’s got no problem circling back and doing whatever he needs to do to give you more and make sure that you’re never left unsatisfied.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He loves using toys on you. He’s not really interested on using them himself, but he does like to use them on you and see how react to all of the different sensations. He always wants to learn new things about your body and toys are one way to do that.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He teases just a bit. Not enough to irritate or frustrate, but just enough to get your worked up. His teasing is more on the playful side as opposed to being used as a punishment.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make

He’s not very loud or vocal. He talks sometimes, just telling you how beautiful you are and will sometimes talk dirty, but he stays quieter so that he can hear you.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

His length is average but the girth? 👀

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It’s about average. He doesn’t need sex as much as he likes having intimacy. He’s almost always ready to go if you are, but he can go some time without it and not go crazy so long as he can still have you with him to cuddle and give/receive affection.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He’s out like a light almost instantly. He likes to roll over, hold you to him, kiss your head, and then he’s snoring.

Mayans @dazzledamazon​  @abunnykisses

Gilly @docsangel​

General @piccasoe​

#gilly lopez #gilly x reader #Mayans MC #preferences #alphabet

[star-spangled-steve]

His New Partner

Chapter 26: The Consummation

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 1787

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, oral sex, light fingering, nudity, cussing, fluff.

A/N: We’re now officially into the second half of this series! If you thought that the rest of it was going to be fluff, you’ve been terribly mistaken. But don’t worry, there will for sure be a happy ending!

“Not so fast!” The man spoke with a laugh before picking Y/N up bridal style right outside of their bedroom door. Steve, ever the traditionalist, knew how important it was to carry her over the threshold on the night of their wedding.

“Steve!” She giggled, latching her arms tighter around his thick neck. “Careful of the dress!”

“Sorry, doll,” he smirked as he readjusted his hands, trying to better gather the puffy white tulle, “but this is tradition.”

Y/N grinned. “Alright, alright. If you insist.”

The Captain then began to take large, overly steady steps in the couple’s room. He was obviously being extra to amuse his wife, and by the sound of her growing chuckle, had definitely succeeded. Especially when he began to hum the ‘Wedding March’.

“Honey!” She gasped after being not so carefully thrown onto the bed, puffing a piece of H/C hair out of her face.

Steve tried not to smile at her shocked look, failing miserably. “Whoops.” He stepped back to close their bedroom door, toeing off his glossy dress shoes and slipping off his socks. “Guess I just got too caught up in the moment, sweetheart. Too caught up in what we’re about to do.”

“Hm.” Y/N bit her lip, sitting up on her knees. “And what are we about to do exactly?” She asked him, already knowing the answer. If the sight of Steve’s bedroom eyes weren’t enough to give it away, then his bigger than usual bulge was sure to let her know.

“Consummate the marriage.” He answered, fingers toying with the neckline of Y/N’s off-the-shoulder dress. “Make everything official.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Does it still count as consummating when we’ve already had sex?”

Steve just shrugged, wanting to get down to business anyways. “To me it does.” He let his hands wander to the back of her wedding gown, thumb and index finger undoing the tiny clip that was above her zipper. “As beautiful as this dress is, and as perfect as you look wearing it, it’s time for it to come off.”

Y/N cocked her head to the side. “Funny thing, I don’t remember you being this horny when we first met.”

“S’just what you do to me, baby girl,” Steve began to unzip the bodice section, “can’t help it.”

Once completely undone, the gown pooled at her knees. This revealed her white lacy strapless bra, her white lacy thigh garter, and a pair of very interesting looking panties that her made her husband burst out in laughter.

“N/N!” He exclaimed with a huge grin. “You wore these to our wedding?”

“What?” She questioned innocently, glancing down at her Captain America themed underwear. “They’re my ‘something blue’... and white and red.”

Steve shook his head in delight. “What’re your other three objects then?”

“Well, my ‘something borrowed’ is this bracelet from Natasha.” Y/N took it off and put it on her nightstand, not wanting the other woman’s jewelry to get ruined during the upcoming activities. “My ‘something new’ is the dress, the shoes.” She then tossed her white stilettos to the floor, one at a time.

“And your ‘something old’?”

“Well,” the girl spoke as she began to undo Steve’s black bow tie, “that would have to be my darling husband.”

The man let out a boisterous laugh at her comment; the kind that he only did when he was alone with Y/N, or maybe with Bucky back when he was younger.

“I’m just joking,” she said with a smile, “the ‘something old’ was my hair clip.” She took the delicate piece out of her hair and placed it down as well, shaking her head side to side to let the bouncy curls fall.

Steve reached a hand up to her shiny locks, tucking a strand behind her ear with a dreamy sigh. “So fucking gorgeous, Y/N. So gorgeous.”

The girl wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing her almost bare chest against his completely covered one. She placed a small kiss on his right cheek, then his left one, beaming up at her husband. “Language, Captain.”

“Oh, you little-” Steve stopped himself, shaking his head at her phrase. “I will spank you.” He threatened with what supposed to be a serious face, but the small gleam in his eye proved he was enjoying this just as much as Y/N.

She bit her lip in what she hoped was a seductive manner. “Please do.”

The man quickly raised his palm and landed a sharp smack on her panty-clad ass cheek, making the girl open her mouth for a yelp. But before any sound could get out, Steve’s lips were instantly on her own.

Y/N hummed when they separated, continuing to undo his half done up bow tie. “See, and I was thinking that you were getting tired of kissing me; after the amount of times the guests clinked the silverware and glasses tonight.”

“Never, doll.” Steve pressed another peck to her rosy lips, still feeling her fingers working on his tie. “Need help?” He asked when their mouths parted.

The actress shook her head. “Almost... done!” She exclaimed in joy when it was finally untied. “Now hold on.”

Y/N stepped completely out of her wedding dress, leaving it a crumpled ball on their king sized bed.

“Hold on for what?” Steve questioned, seeing her practically naked body run towards their door, undone bow tie in hand. “N/N. What are you doing, sweetie?”

The girl turned the handle and stuck her head out, checking left and right to make sure that no one was coming; wise, considering her lack of clothing.

“Doll!” The Captain whisper-shouted. “Someone could see you!” He saw her stick the tie out through the crack, and not a second later, slam the door closed with a giggle. “What did you do?”

Y/N rocked back and forth on her feet, doing a little excited dance. “I hung your tie on the door handle!” She continued to laugh as she stepped forward, unbuttoning her husband’s tuxedo jacket. “That way, everyone in the Compound will know what’s going on in here. Beautiful, passionate wedding night sex.”

 Steve shook his head with a grin. “Funny thing, I don’t remember you being this much of a trouble maker when we first met.”

His wife just shrugged as she threw his jacket onto the small table nearby, getting started on his black vest underneath. “Am not.” She added quietly, throwing that piece of clothing to the floor once it was completely unbuttoned.

“Whatever you say, babydoll.” The man responded, wrapping his arms around her waist and falling back onto their bed. This now made Y/N on top of him, and she carefully tossed her puffy white dress to the floor.

Steve brought his hands to her back and undid her strapless bra, adding it to the growing pile of discarded clothes. He noticed her beginning to unbutton his pants and waved his fingers through her hair, urging her to continue.

Y/N began to rub his semi-hard dick through his boxer briefs, making the man inhale breath. She slowly brought his cock out of its confines, stroking him up and down his length and pressing a small kiss to the tip.

“Fuck, baby.” Steve groaned, letting his head rest on the pillow beneath him. He felt Y/N take him into her mouth and started to carefully thrust his hips up and down, making sure not to go too strong.

The girl bobbed her head, taking more and more of him each time. It was no secret to her that Steve’s penis was extremely large in size, so whatever area she couldn’t fit got massaged by her nimble hands.

“Sweetheart,” the man grunted, lifting her face off of his manhood, “if you keep up with that, I’m going to finish a lot sooner than you would like.”

“S’okay.”

“No, no, doll.” Steve stated, unbuttoning his white dress shirt and getting rid of it. “It’s your turn. Get on your back.”

Y/N followed his command and laid all the way down, giving her husband a big smile as he finished getting undressed.

It wasn’t too long until he was crawling over top of her, sliding the Captain America panties down her smooth legs. Steve moved his face southern and licked a stripe up her wet pussy.

His wife moaned in response, tangling her fingers in his now-messy blonde locks. “St-Stevie.”

The man smirked from between her thighs. “Feel nice, darling?” He continued with his assault on her core, making sure to spend extra time on her most sensitive areas; the places that he knew drove her the most crazy. If Y/N’s body was a machine, Steve had memorized the instruction manual forwards and backwards by now.

“Uh huh.” The girl nodded. “P-Please-”

“‘Please’ what, beautiful?”

She got up on shaky elbows, looking him in the eye. “Please fuck me.” She watched as Steve grinned like the ‘Cheshire Cat’, standing up and moving towards the drawer where they kept the condoms. “Wait, though.”

The Captain stopped. “What?”

“D-Do we really need to use one?” Y/N spoke nervously, suddenly unsure of herself. “I mean, I am on the pill. And, uh, I’d love to feel you tonight.”

Steve smiled even brighter than before, heading back towards the bed. “That sounds great, baby girl.” He used his fingers to spread her hole further open, scissoring them as wide as they could go. He then lined himself up with her wanting vagina, arms resting beside her head. “Ready?”

Y/N nodded once again before feeling his tip push into her, mewling at the sensation. As Steve bottomed out, she let out a heavy sigh of pleasure. Feeling him without the protection was a whole new realm of enjoyment, and she looked forward to many more years of it in the future.

The man began to push in and out, building up speed as he went. He lifted Y/N’s legs over his shoulders to hit a deeper angle, reaching a hand down play with her clit.

“I n-need to cum, honey.” Y/N whined, fingernails scraping up and down Steve’s back. She knew that there’d be marks, but his super soldier serum would heal them right away.

“Cum with me, N/N.” He told her, leaning down to kiss her on the lips. “Together, babydoll.”

And so they did. The squeeze of Y/N’s walls around his member and the feel of her warm juices surrounding his bare cock was enough to trigger Steve’s own release. He spilled inside of her, and the feeling felt so foreign, yet so amazing to the both of them. It was the first time that they’d orgasmed as husband and wife, and to say that the pair was satisfied would be an understatement.

Marriage: Consummated.

Next Chapter

Feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @crist1216 @songforhema @the-obsessive-fangirl​ @stressedandbandobessed7771​ @straightforwardly @fruitypebbles34 @krazykatkay456 @the-kang-bang @uhh-katie-griffiths @mcuclintasha @capsiclesdoll @allsortsofinterests @nova3312 @tyes-girl @kind-sober-fullydressed @mschrisaholic @shirukitsune @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark

Tell me if you want to be added!❤️

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers smut #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfiction

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Dating Beverly Marsh Would Include...

Requested: [I'm sorry I can't remember who requested this or if this was an anon, I'm sorry!] Hey, could I request some headcanons about dating Beverly? (Also if you could add in the reader having homophobic parents 💕)

Warnings: obviously there will be homophobia, [at the end so people can skip if they need to read safely 😊] specifically from the readers parents so please feel free to skip if need be. And remember my blog is a safe space 💕 oh yeah theres also plenty of grammar/spelling errors i'm sure

A//n: This was WAY longer than I anticipated. I just kept coming up with more stuff and holy crap I love writing Bev x readers???? Please request more Bev Edit: this was in my drafts forever and again as much as i have been trying to get requests out in order, it's been pretty tough but at least this way stuff gets out sooner so here ya go.

Okay

First of all..

Y'all make the CUTEST COUPLE, OKAY?!

Like no joke

You know that cliche about girls stealing their boyfriends hoodies/clothes??

Well that goes for both of you and you both are always swapping clothes cause you both love each other's sense of style

Plus, ya know, it's got that great boyfriend girlfriend smell

It's cheesy and played out, but it's honestly so wholesome, and again, you guys each have an interest in each others senses of styles

If you're bigger than her, and her clothes don't necessarily fit you, pfffttt no big deal, she had a million blankets that smelled like her and then you two got together and now she can only find like,, two. But that doesn't mean she doesn't love stealing your clothes!! They're baggier on her but oH MY GOODNESS DOES SHE LOVE THAT. She just loves being able to completely immerse herself in your stuff. Especially when she isn't feeling safe in her own home and you aren't around, the best thing for her is to wrap herself in her your stuff and be comforted by you. Uggh, its hella sweet

But let's start from the beginning...

Both of you knew about each other from school

You definitely heard the many rumors about "Beaver-ly Marsh"

Not that you participated, but you were always overhearing rumors from gossiping girls and bragging boys in your class

Your school wasn't huge but it wasn't small either

But it was kill or be be killed, and rumors spread like the damn plague

It was inevitable

And it was just a matter of time before you overheard the several rumors of the "slut" who did it with every guy in school.

You'd roll you're eyes at the word and the ridiculous insinuations, knowing the massively overplayed game of telephone that ruled your school was not necessary the most credible source of information

And you were positive there were rumors about you, I mean, it really wasn't possible to go to that school without a rumor going around

Everyone had one

Anyways, you never paid much attention to them, but then you met her...

And oh no.

Immediately, it was:

You already never paid much mind to the rumors, but when you got to know each other??

Nuh uh.

No way

Not Beverly

No no no no, no

She was way too sweet, and shy, and beautiful, and awesome, and funny, annnd oh no the damn butterflies were back and shit she made you feel things

And you??

Bevery had no clue she was into girls until you came along...

You were her gay awakening and her being so used to all those nasty things people said about her and all those boys??

Even though it wasn't true, any of it, she still always expected that eventually one day she'd get her first boyfriend, to love and cuddle with and everything normal

Again, then you came along and her heart was all like

BOOM BOOM BEECH

You both danced around each other a lot. Seeing as you were two precious little gay beans that lived in a conservative town in the 80s, it wasn't exactly the most accepting environment and you guys didn't know if the other was into girls at all

On both sides it was "does she like me or is she just really laid back and friendly???"

It took way too long to figure out you were both into each other

If I'm being completely honest here, y'all were like the female reddie

Two girls who became best friends and always bickered like crazy to hide your feelings

The way you two found out you had feelings for one another was bumpy and awkward but silly and cute nonetheless

It came off in a passing comment that just slipped out

The two of you were having a sleepover like you did every Friday night you were available

and you two were laying on her bedroom floor talking about anything and everything staring at the ceiling

Her radio was playing in the background and the two of you were surrounded by various snacks you had been munching on all throughout the night and the conversation drifted to gossip about your peers at school

It went a little something like this:

Y: "Did you see so and so today??"

B: "Yes!!"

Y: *laughing* "Yeah, what the hell was that?"

B: I have no idea what goes on in her head...

B: but I guess I gotta give her some credit, she's always super confident and I'm like, 90% sure that's what makes her the most desirable girl in the 8th grade"

Y: "I guess that makes sense"

B: "I do wish I had her confidence. Maybe I'd have better luck romantically"

Y: "Oh please, like you need that. You're infinitely more attractive than her"

B: "What?"

Y: *panicked* "What?"

B: *slowly sits up with smug ass smirk on her lips* are you saying you find me... attractive?"

Y: ..."what?" *sweating*

B: *still smirking* "Wait,"

Y: "WhAT?"

B: *stILL smirking* "do you-?"

Y: *full on gay panic* "No!"

B: *smirking and blushing*

B: *lays back down* "well, I think you're pretty attractive yourself, if it's any consolation"

She's still so nervous though so it comes out in a whisper

She's 99 percent certain you just accidentally revealed your crush to her but her heart was p o u n d i n g anyway

What if it just came out wrong and that's why you panicked???

Had she just revealed her crush to you by mistake???

But no

You both were a blushing mess and it did not go unnoticed by either one of you

You're hands kinda accidently brushed and you both just had a heart attack on the spot

But the connection you two had that night

You both just... knew

You guys kinda just... happened

After that you both were aware you liked each other

But it was kind of unspoken

At first

It's not like you guys never talked about it, but you two definitely became more touchy and flirty

Holding hands when no one was looking

Shortly before you guys happened and before that night, she had introduced you to losers and they just totally accepted you as one of their own

You got along especially well with Richie (wonder why)

But Bev wasn't too happy about this particular fact...

Especially after you two got together

She wasn't necessarily jealous, especially cause she already had a sneaking suspicion about his feelings for another loser, but because he took up a lot of her time with you

But then, to her chagrin, Richie found out about you two

the eight of you were hanging out in the clubhouse, and Ben had to make some adjustments so him and the others left momentarily to help him get the resources

Except you, and Bev

You two volunteered to hold down the fort [literally]

aaaaaaand you two wanted to have a few minutes alone together too,

Nothing scandalous or anything like that, but you two didn't get be close around the losers

Then Richie returned way earlier than expected [turns out he was doing more harm than good and they sent him back]

He was just outside the entrance and he overheard you two

"I wish we could tell them,"

"I know. And it's not that I don't think they'll accept us, it's-" *sigh* "I'm just not ready... I'm sorry"

"Don't be. It's okay, we can tell them when we're both good and ready."

"Thank you, Y/n."

Richie just kinda stood there thinking about what he just heard

I mean, it made sense, you guys were really close, but then again, that's just how he thought all girls were

But everything else kinda made more sense the more he thought about it

And, it honestly reminded him of him and Eddie

More specifically, how he felt about his best friend

Now naturally this was a very emotional moment, but Richie Tozier being Richie Tozier wasn't about to waltz in there and give some sappy speech about he accepts you guys and he's here for you no matter what

No, no, no

He laid down on the forest floor, sticking his head in the clubhouse scaring the shit out of you two and said

"You guys should really be more quiet, Ben may be a suspiciously good overnight kid architect sensation but he has yet to soundproof this baby"

He then stuck his arm inside the clubhouse, patting the ceiling, shaking a couple spiders loose from his his hand in disgust

"Richie...!"

You two jumped apart and you about nearly shit your pants

"Relax, I'm not gonna tell anyone,"

You both were startled as hell and absolutely disgruntled but the two of you looked at each other, simultaneously breathing a sigh of relief

He got up and joined you two in the clubhouse, and began lounging in his usual spot in the hammock, arms behind his head

"So, this means you two are both into girls, huh?"

Once again, you looked at one another and back at him, nodding shyly

He plastered on the most mischievous smirk you had ever seen and nodded his head, his huge eyes squinting slightly from behind his glasses

"niceee"

This of course was followed by simultaneous eye rolls, Bev even threw her gum wrapper at him but you laughed

It was a relieved laugh

Here you were, exposed and unintentionally outed to Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier and sure enough his reaction was "nICE"

It was honestly a relief and kinda hilarious

You guys just kinda broke out into laughter

It was nice moment

***TRIGGER WARNING FOR [PARENTAL] HOMOPHOBIA BELOW***

And for a while, everything was great. That was, until your parents began to take note just how much time you were spending with Bev

They kept an eye on it at first

Then they started asking questions

You knew this day would come one way or another

Hell, you grew up with them after all, you knew what they thought about people like you and it broke your heart

It terrified you

And it's exactly what you heard every night when you tried to fall asleep, their voices speaking to you clear as day; how disgusted they were. They weren't really there of course and it wasn't until you became a loser that you found out what that voice was...

The point is, your deepest fear was being realized so you did what you could do

Lie

And it seemed to work. Briefly

Your mother had come in to check on you two for the fifth time - usually she checked on you two four times since their suspicions - and found you two snuggled up on top of your sleeping bags

Your mother screamed, scaring the crap out of you guys and you jumped apart

Your mother was thrown into hysterics and went to fetch your father, wailing like a damn baby

Needless to say that night was a long one for everyone

And as if things couldn't get any worse, just days later you found out that Beverly had been taken by It

Immediately, every doubt, every fear, every inkling of shame your parents and your community had drilled into you was forgotten and all that mattered was getting her back

You and your friends literally went through hell to get her back

Needless to say it was a terrifying ordeal but you all had each other's backs and everyone came out okay

When you left Neibolt, you and Beverly were hand in hand

You couldn't give a flying fck about it, you just fought a shape-shifting demon clown you could face your small minded parents

And more importantly you knew even if your parents didn't support you, you had other people who did that and that was enough

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Hope you enjoyed, sorry it's so long and again this is out of order of who requested it so I'm sorry to those of you who had stuff in before this, but I've just been stuck for too long and I needed to get things moving again. Anyways, I hoped you guys like this and again, omg I love writing Beverly!!! I would not be offended if you guys asked for more Bev fics/hc when I open up requests again

#beverly marsh headcanon request #beverly marsh imagine #beverly marsh x reader #beverly marsh #headcanon #head canon #beverly marsh headcanon #beverly marsh head canon #bev head canon #beverly hc #beverly marsh hc #bev marsh hc #hc #hc request #homphobia #homophobia warning #it #it requests #it request

[grimmseye]

A Bird in the Hand: Chapter Five

Read on Ao3 here!

Rating: T

Fandom: Critical Role

Relationships: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss, Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (eventual)

Chapter Characters: Mollymauk Tealeaf, Essek Thelyss

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Molly Rez, Amnesiac Mollymauk, Oh My God They Were Roommates, Shower Scene, Nonsexual Nudity, Touch Starvation, Dissociation

This fic now contains spoilers up to Episode 97: The Fancy and the Fooled

— — —

For a blink of the eyes, the world fell away.

The sensation of stone under his knees became cold tile. Mollymauk didn’t know how they’d gotten there, one moment in the market and the next here, but he couldn’t dwell on it. A chill was settling under his skin, offset only by the heat of his wounds, the pressure of Essek’s vice-grip on his arm.

That grip vanished as soon as he registered it. Mollymauk slumped without its support, a whine leaving his throat, panic crawling behind it. Somehow he knew what came after this, and he did not want to be alone for it. He wasn’t the first time, he wasn’t the second, but the third was cold and e m p t y and

He was on the ground, now, panting. Black dots flickered in his vision. He saw the hem of Essek’s clothing dragging along the floor, saw a line of red that streaked from where he laid to where Essek stood. There was a rattling, something fell to the floor and clattered and rolled. The image doubled and then blurred beyond recognition.

And then he was upright, and the rush of it nearly made him vomit. Something was pressed to his lips, Essek’s voice in his ear, rough and breathless. He couldn’t respond, eyes rolling in his skull. There was something he was supposed to do. Something important, something easy, but his brain wouldn’t keep up.

A snarl sounded, making him flinch as Essek seized his jaw and squeezed. Molly’s teeth parted, and a bitter flavor drenched his tongue. He gagged, and a hand clasped tight over his mouth before he could spit it out. He retched, air and liquid expelling between Essek’s fingers but not fast enough. So Molly swallowed.

Essek let go to wrap his arm around Molly’s side instead, keeping him upright as he choked. It dissolved into heaving breaths, all his weight leaned into Essek. He didn’t get a chance to catch his breath before Essek pulled him along, Molly staggering with each step.

The drink — the potion, he realized — had been thick and lacked temperature, but now he could feel a warming sensation spreading from his belly and chasing away the ice under his skin. His wounds crawled and then cooled, the labored beating of his heart eased. By the time Essek lowered him into a seat, Mollymauk’s head had stopped spinning.

He blinked, eyes refocusing as Essek knelt down in front of him. The drow was a mess: his hair stuck out of place, his clothes were torn and sopped with blood. His hands, too, were slick with it, skin drenched red with what was probably Molly’s own blood.

And he was speaking, lips moving and brow furrowed. Molly only caught the tail end of a question, forgetting the words a second later. His mouth opened, tongue rolling out over his lips and not even wincing when he tasted iron.

“We just took a bath,” was what Mollymauk said.

The dumbfounded look on Essek’s face made him giggle, a high-pitched noise that began to slip to hysterics.

“Did you hit your head?” Essek started, only for Molly to laugh harder.

“Maybe,” he wheezed, “because I have no idea how we got here .” He nearly hit Essek in the head as he gesticulated about the room. It was all white tile, an opaque glass door on each side of the room. Circles of runes were etched and painted into the wall, and the floor had a shallow slant to a drain in its middle, letting the blood ooze down. “I think I blacked out on the way.”

“Ah,” Essek said. “No, that would be the teleportation. If we had traveled any other way, you would have expired long before we got any help.”

He reached up, pushing Mollymauk’s coat from his shoulders. Molly let it fall.

“This room functions as an emergency shower,” Essek continued. “You should get cleaned up.”

“What about you?” Molly asked, the words slurring together. He went to lift his shirt over his head, hissed as the muscles pulled at a wound. The potion had stopped his bleeding, and was clearing his head, but the damage remained.

“I can wait.” Essek’s hand shifted towards him, then paused and drew back again.

“That’s…” He failed to find a good word. “Dumb. What you said was really dumb.” Realizing what he’d been doing, Molly gave him a defeated smile and asked, “Mind helping me outta this?”

Elven ears were fun, he noted. They twitched, folding closer to the sides of Essek’s head, where his hair was buzzed short. Did the stubble tickle his ears when he was surprised? Or was that not surprise but something else — acknowledgement, maybe even interest? Probably not, but Molly could dream.

Essek cleared his throat and stood. His feet were on the ground, Molly noted. He himself was startled when Essek did lean in, head tilting up automatically, eyes finding lips before the pale pupils that didn’t meet his gaze. Essek’s hands were warm, brushing his sides as he took the hem of Molly’s shirt and lifted. Molly raised his arms, practically holding his breath as Essek slid his shirt over his head, feeling the slow draw of fingers over his skin, tracing a burning line up his ribs before the material was lifted over his head and away.

“Is that why you wear such wide collars?” Essek asked.

Molly blinked, looking up at him. His ears felt hot. “Uh — huh?”

“Your horns.” Again, Essek looked like he was going to touch one, but pulled back a moment later. “A shirt with a tight collar wouldn’t fit around them.”

“Oh, yeah. No, if it’s got a tight collar it needs buttons. Your tailor friend made note of that, no worries there.” Molly stood as well. Even with Essek touching the floor, Molly was only at eye level with his throat. It wasn’t a terrible angle, looking up at him. And with Essek looking down — a grin toyed at his lips. “Do you pay attention to the cut of my shirt?”

Essek only sighed. Molly watched the swell of his chest, the slump of his shoulders. He didn’t know a lot about anything, not about the world he’d been tossed in, not about the people he was chasing, not even about himself. But he knew things he liked, he knew what was good. Making people smile was good. People were good. And there were a few different ways to enjoy people, and at least one of them involved pressing his mouth up to Essek’s neck and feeling that sigh against his lips.

Bloodloss did funny things to his brain, it turned out. Molly swallowed, dragged his gaze up to find Essek staring back at him. Essek wasn’t shy, nor bold. He couldn’t pin Essek down as much of anything, and that was as disconcerting as it was intriguing. It made Molly want to put his hands everywhere they didn’t belong, search until he could find the chink in the armor and peel it away, piece by piece. What did Essek look like when he wasn’t wearing a mask? He would also settle for learning what he looked like when he wasn’t wearing clothes. Wishful thinking, again.

“We got off topic,” Molly drawled. “Get undressed. We’ll just shower together, this is a big room. Why do you even have a room like this?”

“Arcane materials are dangerous,” Essek said, voice clipped. “If an experimental potion begins eating through your flesh, you’ll want to wash it off expediently.”

“Fair enough.” He snorted. “You could afford to make it look nice, at least! If you’re going to have a giant shower you might as well lean into the luxury and live a little.”

“I have my own casual bathing facilities,” Essek sighed. And that was a treat if Molly had ever heard one. Essek had been holding out on him.

Molly took a step forward, intending to hunt for whatever mechanism turned the water on. Instead his knees buckled. Essek threw an arm around him, Molly clinging to keep his balance. He wheezed out a breath, laughing, “I may — shit, I may actually need your help just to shower. I swear this isn’t a ploy.”

“I didn’t think it was until you said that. Can you stand?”

“I’ll find out.”

“Sit on the ground if you must.”

That was what Molly did, sitting on the cool tile and wriggling out of his pants, tossing his remaining garments aside. Undressed, his body was a mess of scabs and dry blood. More scars to add to his collection, but at least he had the story for these ones.

He watched Essek approach one of the doors, touching a crystal embedded in the nearby wall. Where the rune circles were carved into tile, streams of water began to pour down. “Tell me when the temperature is comfortable,” Essek called.

Molly stuck a hand under the water, feeling it slowly warm. He waited until it was just on the edge of too hot to say, “Good!”

He scooted himself under the stream, finding a pleasant pressure behind the water. It ran a rusty brown, blood chipping away from his skin and running down the drain. Essek was shuffling out of his clothes where he stood, and Molly averted his gaze. He wouldn’t step further than he was allowed, and try as he might, he couldn’t get a beat off of Essek.

It surprised him to find Essek approaching. He had a towel in hand, sat down beside Molly and lifted it in an offer. When he nodded, Essek began to draw the towel over his skin, delicate passes of soft material.

Too delicate, really. It made shivers wrack along his spine, his chest feeling too tight for his lungs. If this were just for some heavy petting, he’d be happy to lean into it and purr, but that wasn’t the case. “You don’t like touching people much, do you?” Molly drawled, letting his eyelids droop.

The motion paused. “I don’t dislike it.”

“Then put a fuckin’ hand on me. I won’t bite unless you want me to, and you’re not getting anywhere treating me like those fancy plates you’ve got.”

More readily than he’d expected, a hand clasped on his uninjured shoulder. His skin buzzed under Essek’s touch, the drag of the towel growing more firm, making him hiss through his teeth. He tried to focus on the hand over the pain, how it slid down to lift his arm, how the pads of his fingers weighed on the back of his neck as Essek examined a ragged bite.

When it was done, and Essek pulled away, he mourned the loss. “You want me to get yours?” Molly offered, catching Essek’s gaze in the corner of his own. “At least the ones you can’t reach.”

He watched Essek weigh that in his mind. Something about the way he calculated things in his silence pinged a memory, someone else who was stuck in his own head, curled in on himself rather than open up to the world. The memory was there, in his grasp, and then it was gone.

“That’s reasonable,” Essek murmured at last. Molly watched the stains on the towel clean themselves before Essek handed it over, and turned so his back was to Molly. And again there was that thought of just bending down and kissing the skin where the water ran over his shoulder blade, and maybe parting his lips and seeing if Essek would like him to bite after all.

Then he set his hand at Essek’s unmarked hip, and he watched his shoulders jump and the breath freeze in his chest.

“You alright, there?” Mollymauk checked, not removing his hand but ready to.

“Fine,” Essek said, in that clipped voice again. So Molly began to wash the dry blood from his skin, abandoning the towel nearly at once to just work with his hands. It ran down Essek’s leg, and he murmured a soft ‘ excuse me’ as his fingers drew down to the back of his thigh, working quickly and brusquely to return to a spot that Essek’s arm had hidden.

Hands came up into his hair, where flecks of dry blood stood out against white. Essek made a noise, then, the muscles of his back winding tight but head seeming to tilt into his touch. The sound replayed in Molly’s head as he teased his fingers over locks of hair, dragged nails along stubble. Short and throaty, shaking into a sigh — it was a good sound.

He was massaging his thumb along the crease of a rib when he realized Essek was shaking. His breaths sucked in too quick and too deep, shuddering on the exhale. Molly’s hand froze in place. “Are you —”

“I am fine, Mollymauk.” The words were jagged things, broken and sharp. Essek yanked away, clambering to his feet. “I will take care of the rest myself, thank you. There are towels through there.” He pointed, hand quivering, to the first door in the room.

Mollymauk was silent as he stood and took his leave.

Towels were located in a cabinet as promised, alongside too-long robes. When Essek emerged, Mollymauk had donned one, black material bound around the waist, hanging open in the front. The drow did not so much as meet his eyes, the towel they’d used now clean and dry and wrapped around his hips for modesty.

Molly caught Essek’s movements in the edge of his vision. They were jerky and rough, reminded him of something — of a construct of metal and blades, of a prison and children in need and friends, one was an orphan like these children and one was like him and one was like Essek and there was a child with seven voices and black feathers and a knife in one hand and Welcome to the —

“Mollymauk.”

He nearly flinched, but held himself steady. Essek had already moved to the other door, levitating now in a robe that fell to the floor, covering himself completely. When he was bare, when skin was on skin with no layers in between, he shook and he cracked like glass struck so many times.

Molly followed without a word.

Essek made himself scarce, after. The day passed, and morning rose. No elven mage was there to literally hover over Molly’s shoulder, nor to show him about the city nor treat him to a day at the spa nor even cook breakfast.

That last number was just fine in Molly’s book. Essek’s cooking implied he usually didn’t cook in the first place.

The house — though it was more of a tower, round and tall instead of a box — was large and stunningly empty for something so elaborately furnished. Of half a dozen bedrooms, only Molly’s saw use. Without Essek around, he had an entire vacant home to snoop through.

The first hour was dedicated to finding the most comfortable couch in the building and the one after that to lounging on it naked. Fifteen minutes following that was the hunt for Essek’s bedroom, another five scrounging around for some hairpins, and then longer than he cared to admit spent on his knees trying to pick the lock before he realized it was magically sealed.

“Fucking wizards,” he growled, and left it at that.

Lunch was burning the most expensive cut of meat he found in the kitchen and then spotting a basket of strawberries for dessert. He wandered the house with sticky fingers, scanning over bookshelves and pulling one title off before realizing he didn’t care much for reading. A study yielded good, thick paper and pencils and pens that Molly scooped up to carry to the dining room table, uncertain what his hands wanted to do with them but willing to find out.

An image of a raven etched itself onto the page. It was crude, abstracted. Turned one way, the bird was falling, feet scraping the air to catch the branch that snapped under its weight. Turned the other, it ascended.

Death, he scratched on one end. Then he spun it around and wrote atop the other: Revival.

The raven had too many eyes. A sick feeling rose in his throat and he crumpled the page in a hand.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, hand locked around paper, staring into the table. When his mind returned to him, the clock on the wall sat at a different angle. His skin felt like cotton, sand filled his head. It weighed too heavily to the side, feeling that if he let it droop too far his insides would come dripping out his ear.

Molly slouched in his chair, realizing distantly that his muscles ached.

What was he doing?

He should stand up.

Mollymauk stared at the paper. He should stand up, he told himself. That wasn’t working. He should move his leg, then. It didn’t move. His head tipped just faintly, making his brains swim in his skull. He could hear his vertebrae creak with the motion. A finger, next, the knuckles smoothing out, index finger flexing. Middle, ring, pinky, and thumb followed, and he found himself able to let the paper go, to push himself mechanically away from the table, walk five paces and sink to the ground there.

He laid there, and then he started shaking, and then he started sobbing.

He didn’t know why he was sobbing. The tears poured off his nose and the breaths left his chest quicker than they came, until he was dizzy and shaking and wheezing into the rug. He couldn’t feel his own skin, he was empty inside, he was empty, he was — he was —

And then his breath was steady again and he was just lying still, wracked with sudden bouts of tremors for a stretch of uncounted time, until the tremors became less frequent and stopped altogether and his body went lax again.

Eventually, he would stand, and the clock had inched even further along.

Molly moved back into the kitchen, craving stew and not knowing why. Something about the idea felt like being surrounded by friendly faces. They didn’t have enough but they made do with what they had. That’s what he told her , the big one, his favorite, his heart.

Faces poured into his mind, faces and feelings, colors and music and days rolling by.

Stew was a meal meant to be shared, so when he thought it was almost done, Molly went to find Essek.

A set of three towers made up Essek’s property, surrounded by a garden Molly knew he didn’t tend to himself. There was a plot of loose earth hidden behind the tower that made up Essek’s actual living space, the shortest of the trio. All three towers were connected by bridges.

Mollymauk paused halfway across one walkway, the cold night air sweeping through his coat. He leaned over its edge, elbows braced on the thin rail to gaze out at the city sprawling around them. In the distance, he could see that house, the one with the glittering tree, the place he’d blindly crawled to and found empty.

The clouds opened up at night, here, allowing the moon’s glow to bathe the rooftops, the stars matching Rosohna’s lights.

His ear twitched at the sound of a door opening. He turned, seeing Essek drifting from the tallest tower, the one Molly had been approaching. As the drow locked the door with an arcane word, he turned his head, pausing when their gazes met.

Molly gave a smile, a faint wave. His voice felt stuck in his throat.

“Mollymauk,” Essek observed. He moved across the bridge, coming to hover a few feet from Molly’s side. His eyes seemed to catch the moonlight, pupils glinting white. “What are you doing here?”

It took a conscious effort to form words. “Made dinner. Have y’eaten?” He had to clip his own voice, wincing at how unnatural it sounded, like he grated each sound between his teeth before letting it out.

“... Not yet, no,” Essek said, meaning he’d likely skipped lunch and breakfast, too. Molly just gave a chuckle, raspy, and swatted his leg with his tail. He reached for Essek’s arm — wanting contact, needing to ground himself — to pull him back to the first tower.

He leaned into Essek, walking slowly to drag out the time he could spend close to another person. The material of Essek’s mantle was surprisingly comfortable, like silk. Molly would happily nuzzle a cheek into it if he didn’t know that would be crossing a line. If he could get skin contact right now, that would be worth the world. But Essek wasn’t offering a hand, he was letting Molly cling to his arm, indulging whatever he thought this was.

As they passed back into the first tower, the scent of cooking meat and spices filled the air. Essek’s stomach rumbled on cue, and Molly laughed. “Glad to have me now, aren’t ya?” He rasped.

Essek gave him a single laugh. It was better than nothing, he thought, until Essek turned that calculating gaze on him. “Did something happen?”

Molly made a vague noise, finally letting go of Essek to move into the kitchen. “Get some bowls down for me, would ya? You keep them in the worst place.”

Essek let the question drop. Molly took each bowl from a mage hand, filling each one nearly to the brim. Everything was cut in thick chunks, beef and vegetables in a rich gravy. He stuck a slice of bread in each and passed a bowl to Essek on his way to the table. It wasn’t pretty, but it was everything a meal needed to be: hot and filling and delicious.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Essek said, as he sat across from Mollymauk.

“Turns out I lived with a carnival,” Molly shrugged. “Learned that today.” Essek looked like he was going to dismiss the comment, and then gazed at Molly for a bit and seemed to concede. Molly snickered, then said, “Anyway, things like this are easy to make and can fill a lot of bellies. And when you have spices like what’s in your cabinet, it’s better than the ten-gold meals down the street.”

He watched, chin in his hands, as Essek gave his bowl a dubious look. “It does smell good,” he said, picking up his spoon and lifting it to his mouth. The ears and eyebrows went up, and before he was even done chewing Essek had another spoonful.

“Y’see?” Molly grinned. “I’m a pleasure to have.”

Essek only smiled down at his bowl. It was a good look on him.

They ate in a comfortable silence, broken only for Molly to tease Essek about the dainty way he ate his bread, for Essek to scrunch his nose at him when Molly licked his fingers instead of using a napkin. He got gravy on them on purpose after that, just to watch Essek’s displeasure as he licked them clean. He had to wonder if there wasn’t an interest in the fork of his tongue.

“You are repulsive right now,” Essek stated.

Molly clutched his chest in mock pain. “Oh! How could you say that.” He leaned an elbow on the table, grinning as he said, “And why don’t you just use your mage hand, huh? Then you never have to get so much as a spot on your beautiful hands.” He paused in his heckling, then gave a delighted grin. “That started as a joke but I actually need to see this, now.”

“See what?” Essek tore a small piece of bread and dipped it ever so slightly into his bowl, maintaining eye contact as he lifted it to his mouth. His fingers didn’t touch so much as his own lips, and Molly made an affronted noise.

“If you won’t get your hands dirty, use your magic hand.” Molly wagged his own hand at him. “The thing you got the bowls with.”

“Why would I do that.” Essek’s voice was flat.

The answer was easy: “To prove you can.”

He knew he’d won, at that point. Essek sighed, lifting his hands as though in surrender. A swirl of purple magic formed into a third, spectral hand, and Molly rapped his hooves on the ground in anticipation.

“This is inane,” Essek sighed.

“This is entertainment,” Molly corrected.

They both watched as the hand tore a chunk of bread, dipped it in the stew. When the hand lifted up to Essek’s face, looming closer to his half-open mouth — Essek’s will broke. His face pinched, a breathy sound hissing from his lips before he turned his head away. He laughed through his nose, eyes shut and lips spread around a smile, a series of quick exhalations as his shoulders shook.

“You can’t!” Molly crowed, smacking a palm on the table. The hand dissipated as Essek sputtered, covering his face with his own hand. “You call yourself a wizard!”

“What was the point of that,” Essek rattled out, losing the fight to hide his smile.

“Purely for my enjoyment.” His cheeks hurt, he was smiling far too broadly. There was something genuine at last, and it was a smile and laughter and the red tinge to the tips of Essek’s ears. Watching him fight to gather his composure felt like he’d finally gotten a peek under the mask.

He didn’t even care when he was caught staring, Essek spotting him with his chin propped on his knuckles and a smile on his face. For a long moment, they were both just smiling at one another, the warmth of laughter softening the air.

Then Molly asked, “Why are you doing this, anyway?”

Essek’s smile waned at the question. He finally seemed to pull himself in order, straightening up in his chair. “What are you referring to?”

“Just. This.” He gestured about, and then to himself. “Me. Keeping me in your house, getting mauled, dumping your potions on me. No offense, my friend, but I know you’re not just a charitable soul.” He recalled the bodies pulled into Essek’s magic, crumpled and broken, killed by the man sitting across from him without an ounce of remorse.

Essek inhaled slowly, as Mollymauk picked up his own bowl and walked to the sink. “That would be an… accurate assessment,” he said, and fell silent. When Molly had washed and dried the bowl, and was setting it on the counter, Essek spoke again.

“I owe the Mighty Nein a great deal,” he said. Molly turned, and found him hunched over the table. He gave a breathy laugh, said, “Technically, they owe me quite a few favors. But I do not think I will ever claim them. Not how I originally intended to.”

The silence stretched, and then Essek shook his head, a slow and delayed motion. “In any case. They are… my friends. I care for them. And with the weight of what I owe them, returning someone that they love to their sides feels like I may finally be able to alleviate some of that weight.”

He lifted his head, giving Molly a thin, somber smile. “So, no, I am not doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I am simply, blindly hoping to weigh the scales in my favor. I apologize for that.”

And to his credit, there was a flash of guilt.

Molly only shrugged, giving him an easy smile. “Listen. My carnival memories are still fuzzy as a lamb, but from what I can make out… you find your family, and you live and die for those people. The rest are just… the rest.” He holds up a finger, adds, “And that doesn’t mean you get to go fuckin’ everyone over along the way. Everything I did, I was doing for those people and for myself. I’ve lied and I’ve cheated and I’ve cut a few throats when I needed to. But I tried to at least put a smile on the faces of the saps I was scamming.”

He walked to Essek, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Kindness is kindness. As long as you’re not gonna stab me at the end of this, I can appreciate that.”

Essek was still and quiet under his hand. His head bowed low. Molly ran his fingers through short, white hair. He nearly leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head before he pulled away.

“Mollymauk.”

He paused half in the doorway, looking over his shoulder to where Essek had spun in his chair, gazing back at him. “Yeah?”

Essek pulled in a breath. Let it out, slouching into the back of the chair. “Just… goodnight, Mollymauk.”

A smile graced his lips. “Goodnight, Mister Thelyss.”

#shadowmauk #mollymauk tealeaf #essek thelyss #mollymauk #essek #cr #cr fic #my writing #a bird in the hand

[spell-cleaver]

“Are you sure that’s the decision you want to make?” CONTINUATION OF THE OTHER ONE >:)

Continuation of this one, for those who haven’t read it. You don’t have to have read that one to understand this one but if you read this one then read the other one it ruins it a bit.

Most of this is under the cut because it got... longer than any “drabble” has any right to be :)

Luke had been in Beggar's Canyon for hours.Flying... took the edge off things, let him get his breath back and just react instead of dwelling on thishorrible, sinking feeling he'd had since waking up.

He'd told Aunt Beru he was going flying thatmorning, even before the first rays of dawn had graced the sky. She'd looked athim a little oddly.

"Sandstorm?" she'd asked.

He knew what she was asking and shook hishead.

"Yes," he said. "No. I don'tknow." And then he'd kissed his aunt goodbye on the cheek, told her heloved her, and asked her to pass the message on to his uncle too.

She'd frowned, but promised.

Now he'd been here for entirely too long, butevery time he stepped out of his Skyhopper the sand hissed.

Soon, it said—or maybe that wasn't the sand, butsomething entirely different. Soon.

Despite the heat, he shivered.

The suns were getting high now. His unclewould really need him—would probably already be furious.

Luke sighed and headed home.

.

Tatooine was exactly as her father haddescribed it to her: a worthless scrap heap as far from the galaxy's light ascould be.

He used stronger language, of course—when heactually deigned to let it occupy his thoughts—but she wasn't here to dwell onher father's opinion. She was rapidly forming her own.

It was no more favourable.

Solo dumped her in Mos Eisley. She almostsnapped at him to keep going; this wasn't her destination. The bright,brilliant presence of her brother was nowherenear here.

But Solo glared at her, kept making shooingmotions with his hands, and she absolutely despised his piece-of-junk ship.

So she paid him, inwardly smirking at whather father would think when he saw the credits disappearing from her account.She should be back on Coruscant by now, several days after Yoda's death hadrocked the Force; while he'd know she wasn't dead or injured, he'd either beout of his mind with worry or out of his mind with anger.

He'd get over it the moment she returned.

This boyshe was collecting... this Luke Skywalker,her brother...

Oh, yes. Her father would be furious when shereturned, but not at her.

She'd considered contacting him en route toexplain, but... it might be nothing. That had been her fear. She wanted to besure before springing that on him.

She had a brother.

She had a brother.

She wanted the credit for this.

Leia didn't bother watching Solo's junk heaplift off behind her. She was standing stock still outside the spaceport,breathing in, breathing out.

A haze cloaked Tatooine in the Force—amirage. It wasn't dark or light, it just... was.

But the presence she felt—had felt since shearrived? That was light. It dustedthe dunes like a second coating of sand; when she hired a speeder and headedout for its nexus, it only intensified.

She revelled in it.

It felt like her father's presence on thatfateful day he'd shown up to liberate her from the Organas. Light where his hadbeen dark, true—they'd have to fix that—but it embraced her in the same way,like a part of her that had been missing for years.

Twins. It had to be. They were twins, and the Organas and Yoda had ripped them apart. Doomed themto grow up far from their father and true power. So effectively that even whenhe'd found and returned her to thelight—metaphorically speaking—her brother, Luke,had been left to languish in obscurity, poverty, ignorance, when he should have been the Prince of the Empire...

Well. Her mother had been a queen, herkidnapper had been a queen, her father was an emperor. She was a princess; her brother was a prince. Regardless ofchildhood.

She gritted her teeth, bared them in a grin,and shot towards the nearest town she could see.

The map called it ANCHORHEAD.

.

His horrible, horrible feeling had onlyincreased the closer he got to the homestead.

Something cold tracked him all the way. Itreached out to latch onto his mind, like a limpet or leech that... didn'tdrain. It felt like it should be there, actually.

Like half the reason he wanted to get offTatooine so badly was because he wanted to find it again...

But that feeling only enhanced the crystalline sensation he experienced every time heflew, that clarity. And it meant it enhanced that intense dread even more.

Finally, the homestead loomed.

Something was wrong.

He knew it was; he near-crashed his Skyhopperin his attempt to stop it. He staggered out and jogged for the entrance, AuntBeru's name touching down on his lips—

And then he froze.

There was someone in the doorway. Someone whowas certainly not his aunt oruncle—an offworlder judging by their appalling idea to wear all-black under themidday suns. Reasonably young, about his age; female human; rigid posture.

Maybe she was a lost offworlder his aunt washosting—it wouldn't be the first time—but if so, why this terribly, cloyingfeeling...?

As he got closer, he saw the girl in moredetail. The burst of familiarity he felt at seeing her face confused him evenmore.

As did her grin. Her gaze, almost unnervinglyintense as she stared him from top to toe. There was joy, exhilaration and...disapproval there?

"Who are you?" he asked. Notunkindly—just warily.

She smiled wider at that, fingering a strangehilt at her waist.

"I'm Princess Leia Vader," she saidsmoothly. Her grin was sharp.

He made to take a step back—from shock, fromsudden fear, he didn't know—but found himself frozen in place, the muscles inhis legs locked up.

"Of the Empire!?" Even he, trapped all the way out her, had heardabout the death of Palpatine and ascension of Vader—and his daughter.

She snorted. "What else matters?"

Well. Thatmade things so much clearer.

What in the blazes was Leia Vader doing all the way out here?

Once again, he tried to step back. Onceagain, he couldn't.

She narrowed her eyes at the attempt."But yes. I am the Imperial Princess. And you," her lips tugged into a much more genuine smile,"are Luke Skywalker."

"Yes...?"

She blinked, apparently irritated he wouldn'tread her mind—as if he could—andshook her head.

"You can," she said coolly,"and I will teach you how."

Wait. "What—"

"It might interest you to know that myfather, Darth Vader, was born with the name Anakin Skywalker to a slave womannamed Shmi Skywalker, whose grave I believe lies at the back of thishomestead."

Luke stared.

What.

What.

"WHAT?"

"And also," she continued,"that I was born to him and his wife nineteen years ago, on EmpireDay."

Luke was fairly sure he'd stopped breathing.

"I believe that may be your birthday aswell?"

Luke shook his head. Not in denial—and heknew she knew that, somehow—but... confusion.

"So— so—"

My father is your father," she informedhim. "I am your sister...  and you are a prince."

He recoiled.

She frowned—why would he recoil at that? he could almost hear herwondering—but she continued, "I am your sister."

"I got that!" he snapped, then fearflooded him when he realised who he'djust snapped at.

"I am not going to hurt you," shesaid, taking a step forward. That force holding him in place vanished, but hedidn't try to run. An equally powerful desire—the orphan's longing for afamily, perhaps—kept him rooted in place. Drew him a few steps closer, in fact.

The princess—Leia—his sister—held out her hand.

"Come with me, Luke," she intoned."Come meet our father. We never knew you existed—he'll be beyond delightedto meet you."

Luke just stared. Something wonderful,something terrible, bloomed in his chest.

"Leave this pathetic life and these patheticpeople behind. You are a prince. Comewith me to take your rightful place in the galaxy. You can have all you've everwanted."

And it was true. He could hear it in hervoice. It was intoxicating, alluring... but mainly because all he'd ever wanted was a family.

And now, according to her, he had one.

But...

Thesepathetic people.

He had a funny feeling he knew exactly who they were.

"Where are my aunt and uncle?"

She stopped in the middle of her tirade."What?"

"My aunt and uncle. My family. Where arethey?"

"They are not your aunt and uncle, much less family—"

He asked, voice quiet in his certainty,"Did you kill them?"

She ground her teeth. "The Jedi sealedtheir fates the moment they stole you from our mother's arms and dumped you onthem."

"That's a yes, then." Tears stunghis eyes.

"Oh, don't waste water overkidnappers," she barked.

"They were my family!"

Rage boiled in her: he could see it in herface, feel it. But she kept herself calm.

"I thought like that about my kidnappersonce," she murmured. "Don't worry, brother. The pain vanishes onceyou accept the truth." Her hand was still out; she made an impatientgesture with it. "Now come on."

He backed off. "No. I'm not going withyou."

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you surethat's the decision you want to make?"

"Yes." He lifted his chin andlooked her in the eye.

She growled, "It's the wrong one."

She strode forward. Luke's eyes blew wide andhe backed away further—quickly.

"So if you won't come willingly—"

She broke into a run. Luke ran in response,but it was like running through oil. He couldn't breathe—

"—then you'll come by force."

That same force that slowed his steps threwhim to the ground. He hit it hard; spluttered fiercely as sand flooded hismouth.

He watched black boots enter his line ofvision, stark against the dust horizon, and a soft hand pressed his forehead.

"Sleep,"his sister said, voice reverberating in a way that was just as familiar as itwas alien, layered and layered with unspoken command, and Luke Skywalker slept.

.

Ten minutes later, Ben Kenobi finally cameupon the homestead and two corpses far, far too late to do anything.

One hour later, the Imperial Princesscommandeered a shuttle from the measly little outpost the Empire had on theplanet and jumped to hyperspace.

Three days later, Luke Skywalker, farm boy,was facing down Emperor Darth Vader himself.

And one year later, the galaxy was introducedto Prince Luke Vader, whose resemblance to his sister and father was...uncanny.

Especially when his eyes flashed gold.

Send me a prompt and I’ll write you a drabble ficlet almost a whole oneshot, apparently.

#prompts #silverday #my writing #random words on a page #luke skywalker #leia organa #han solo #beru whitesun #space twins #dark!leia #dark!luke #eventually #words cannot describe how much i love the trope 'dark leia finds luke' #i have so many ideas to write about it #flash fiction #flash fiction: star wars