#perhaps... a little trolling? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ramshacklerumble · 6 days

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can I see an ashi and gigi interaction <//3 look she even has an emote 🌺

KIDDING!!!!!! BUT HI I WANT MORE GIGI CONTENT 🫶 really curious about 🦐🦑🍄 octotrio? this is my attempt at more unagi crumbs BUT!!! I AM GEN CURIOUS ABOUT OCTO INTERACTIONS 🫣 don’t think I’ve seen gigi interact w the other two ssssso 👁️👁️

in a nutshell?

if these three carked it right in front of them, gia would at long last repent and hole up in a nunnery like the good lord intended.

jk. (kinda)

on paper, gia is the octotrio’s personal henchboy as payment for a “favor” floyd does them a little prior/early into the events of book 5. (currently working on a one-shot that goes into this) originally gia’s tenure under the mostro lounge was only meant to be for a few weeks, but it’s made readily apparent once the octotrio finds use in something they are not about to let it slip through their fingers.

so begins the trio's pattern of finding even the smallest infractions on gia’s part as cause to extend their servitude under them. this is, understandably, why there's little love lost between them. i’d say gia prays for the trio’s downfall, but gia isn’t religious and far too proactive to wait around for that to happen.

they’ve made it their personal mission not to leave nrc until octavinelle is burning at their feet.

…

in reality, gia’s relationship with the octotrio is quite complicated.

they’ve been an absolute pain in the neck in every single encounter, but it doesn’t take gia long to realize the octotrio is their speedrun towards getting some REAL power in their hands. proud and hard-working they may be, gia is ultimately a pragmatist at heart.

though a bit of a showman, azul IS an undeniably powerful mage with many a tentacle in many a pie. the twins are nothing to sneeze at either.

as much as gia hates their guts, these three are their chance to make it not only to graduation but to actually make something of themself when staying at night raven is no longer an option.

and that’s not even getting into the growing familiarity between gia and the trio steadily murking the waters…

—

🦑 AZUL ASHENGROTTO: (tagging @thehollowwriter since you also sent an ask for azul)

perhaps the most subtle dynamic of the three (making it the hardest to explain) gia's view of azul can be largely inferred by their joke-title for him: boss.

if azul wants something done, then gia gets it done. gia proves themself an incredibly adept asset to azul and it's why azul pulls whatever strings he can to keep them under his thumb.

that said, while gia puts up with much of azul's overworking and respects they are indebted to the trio by not putting up much of a fuss-- azul is aware he occasionally has to sweeten the pot if he wants to keep it that way.

he'd be a fool to forget this was the same person who got all his original contracts turned to dust. and besides: what good, gracious employer doesn't reward his employees for their hard work?

so azul doesn't mind giving gia access to a few of his private merchandise channels, maybe even some of his more advanced grimoires and alchemy notes, etc.

this dynamic remains largely unchanged for a while, though if one were to squint they might catch a degree of casualness peppering their interactions over time. they indulge in subtle sniping-- even minor trolling-- namely from gia who finds azul an easy target.

they are not fully aware of how things have changed until @cyanide-latte's chrysanthos shroud makes quite a bitter impression on them both. in a low moment surprising even azul, he admits to gia that shroud makes him feel inadequate as a housewarden-- made worse by the fact azul knows it isn't shroud's intention. shroud, in his own way, truly embodies the spirit of benevolence an octavinelle housewarden should be and it's something azul wonders he'll ever be able to do himself. (you can read more on this in cy's post: here!)

gia, in an attempt to give azul the peace of mind that they won't try to use this moment of weakness against him (and bolstered by the knowledge this could come in as blackmail should he think to use what they're about to tell him), shares a bit of their own worries shroud managed to jar loose.

working for the trio is hard, however, it's also been the path that's given gia the most opportunities. but, with the trio being a year ahead of them, gia is well aware their time with them is limited. they can’t help but mull over what is to become of them when the trio leave for their senior internships. gia will likely never see them again and likely be nothing more than a footnote from the trio’s school lives. a strange, magicless weirdo from another dimension, wasn’t that a fun little story?

gia’s probably going to have a lot of free time as a junior and who knows how they plan to go about senior year, frankly, they’re a bit at a loss with themself…

anyway. if it weren't for azul """kindly""" giving them the chance to gain what they DO have by working for him (or whatever), they'd probably be even more lost than they are now. he's a pain and a half, but he's probably not the worst housewarden in octavinelle history.

at this, azul reminds gia he's made his plans to branch out the mostro lounge to the public quite clear. gia wouldn’t be bound to them anymore, but it'd be a shame to let their experience at the school's location go to waste, wouldn't it?

—

🍄 - JADE LEECH

gia's relationship with jade is probably the strangest because despite jade being the one that wigs gia out the most, he is also the one gia openly gets along with the best.

fun fact: gia opened up their own club. the biking club. they are the only person in said club because, for some reason or another, they reject anyone who tries to get in. it might have to do with the fact the reason the club exists is because they needed an excuse to have a bike on school grounds they are allowed to ride anywhere unquestioned-- such as for personal errands or scavenging for potion ingredients. this includes up in the mountains.

y'know who else is often in the mountains..?

because of this little coinkidink, jade found a very weak and fevered gia struggling to get off the ground because they'd stupidly decided to go out foraging while sick. and of course, what good, gracious vice-housewarden of octavinelle wouldn't lend a hand to a poor, unfortunate underclassman in need despite their fervent protests? they're obviously, deliriously ill and are unaware of what's best for them…

indebted to jade on top of the octotrio as a whole, gia lost what little personal time they had as president of their own one-man club. now the biking club is (semi-officially) affiliated with his mountain lovers' club-- meaning gia accompanies him whenever he goes and bikes him around trails whenever he feels like it.

in theory, being alone up a mountain with jade leech should be terrifying, but gia sincerely enjoys these outings. jade is not only incredibly well-versed in mountain flora but a skilled potionologist in his own right.

honestly, it’s not bad.

—

BONUS:

BONUS BONUS:

they're friends :)

@inmateofthemind @simons-twsted-children @tixdixl @jovieinramshackle @blithesharem @theleechyskrunkly @skriblee-ksk (lemme know if anyone wants to be included in tags)

#this is another thing ive had squirreled away for months #you asked for floyd as well i know but just the other two alone gave me a hard time WHEEZE #another day #oc ask meme #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #octotrio #octavinelle #gia yugo #yuusona #twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #disney twst #oathofoaks

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thelargefrye · 2 months

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February Filth Fest : DAY EIGHTEEN : SIZE KINK … mature one - shot

pairing : norse god!seonghwa x greek goddess!f!reader

genre : smut, viking au, god of war inspired – so a mix of norse and greek mythology in this

word count : 2k

warnings : language, mentions of blood / fighting / weapons (swords, axe, bow and arrows, etc.), hunting for food, feeling grief over a loved ones death, long haired seonghwa in a half-up ponytail, seonghwa is mentioned to be bigger than yn

smut warnings : unprotected sex, size kink, seonghwa's got a breeding kink

honorary tag : @sanjoongie

after having traveled all over midgard with seonghwa and fighting for your lives, the two of you can finally settle down and have a moment together.

DAY SEVENTEEN ↤ SPREAD THE ASHES ↦ DAY NINETEEN

a grunt left your mouth as you were flung into a large tree. you stumbled to your feet, seonghwa swung his axe at the trolls that were around him. blood flown through the sky, some landing on his face as he kicked one troll away before rushing over to you.

his hand wrapping around your forearm and hoisting you to steady feet before swinging at another troll. a smirk decorating his lips as he gave you a side glance.

"come on now, y/n, surely someone who killed all of olympus isn't getting beat by some trolls," he says, the cockiness thick in his voice and you roll your eyes before slashing and stabbing at the nearest troll – the one who sent you flying.

"shut your mouth and focus on fighting before i kill you next," you said and seonghwa lets out a loud laugh before he jumping and hacking at two trolls and effortlessly cutting them down.

when the trolls were all dead, you and seonghwa stood in the middle of the clearly covered in blood before sheathing your weapons.

"well that was a little more excitement than what i was anticipating," he says, turning to you with a smile on his face. but seonghwa always had a smile on his face. "i remember seeing a river along the north trail, lets go wash up before setting up camp."

you nod your head and allow seonghwa to lead the way, following closely behind him as you walked down one of the many dirt paths in the forest. you notice that every once in a while, seonghwa will look over his shoulder to make sure you are still following behind. silently noting your quietness as normally the two of you are going back and forth with each other in a playful bicker.

"what's the matter?" seonghwa finally asks once you are at the river. the both of you stripped down from your bloody armor and carefully washing the blood out. there was nothing you truly hated more than bloody armor, such a disgrace.

you turn towards him, clenching your clothes tightly, "i was thinking about my family," you say trailing off and at your words seonghwa also stops his scrubbing.

his now doe eyes looking at you softly and you hate how he makes your heart flutter and stomach do flips. seonghwa only knows a little bit about your family from greece and olympus, how went on this journey of revenge for your family after zeus took everything from you. you guess his comment from earlier was making you think.

but think about what exactly you aren't sure.

perhaps settling down with seonghwa after this and finally living a peaceful life. but was that something you even deserved?

"y/n," seonghwa is close to you, his bare skin touching your own and it brings you out of your thoughts. you look at him with wide eyes, surprised by how he moved this close to you without you noticing and he easily towers over you. perhaps that's a benefit from him being a frost giant? "what are you thinking? tell me," he sounds like he's pleading almost.

"i want to live a peaceful life, but i don't think i deserve it," you tell him, a chill running over you as you feel seonghwa's hand travel around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

"why don't you deserve it?"

"i've done a lot of bad things seonghwa, killed a lot of people, gods, monsters."

"but you've paid your debt, stop living in the past and focus on now. you aren't in olympus anymore, darling. you're here with me now. i don't think hongjoong would want you to live like this, feeling guilty."

your eyebrows furrow at the mention of your dead lover. husband. you felt angry that seonghwa would mention him as if he knew him. without thinking you shove seonghwa away and the water around you two splashes up against you both. seonghwa looks at you in shock.

"don't you dare talk about hongjoong like you know him!" you feel the tears beginning to build up in your waterline, but not from sadness but anger.

"i lost him and our daughter because i was stupid! their deaths haunt me and i see their bodies every time i close my eyes. no matter how hard i try to move on i will always be haunted by their deaths and my mistakes, so don't tell me to not live in the past when that's all i can see!"

seonghwa said nothing as the two of you looked at each other. he was calm and collected while you were the definition of rage. heavy breathing, clenched fists, and tear-stricken face. his silence only made you more upset.

"i'm not asking for you to forget hongjoong and your daughter," he says after what felt like an eternity of silence. "but..." he trails off taking a cautious step towards you, "i want you to realize that you don't have to let their death weigh on you forever."

"seonghwa..."

"you said you wanted a peaceful life, well we can have one. we'll settle down at the small cabin and have our own children. you paid your debt, but you have to give yourself this second chance," he says as he stops back in front of you. his cold hand feels safe when he touches your own.

"i... i don't know," you pull away from him once more, turning away and walking out of the river, clothes and armor in hand as you walk back to the camp you two had set up at the clearing, leaving seonghwa by himself.

the two of you spent the rest of the evening and early night in silence. the two of you having traveled and been doing this long enough that you could do things around camp without actually talking to one another. seonghwa had went and brought back deer he hunted for the two of you two eat.

and so you sat at the campfire in silence, the smell of meat feeling your nose and cracking of the fire filling your ears. your mind still reeling from what was said earlier. seonghwa was right because he was always right. you didn't need to forget hongjoong and your daughter, but you needed to let their deaths not haunt you anymore.

your eyes flicker to seonghwa from across the fire, his own eyes already looking at you. he had finished eating a while ago while you were still picking at yours. he rolled his shoulders before standing up, walking over to you and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. silently bidding you goodnight before he enters your shared tent.

you don't know how much longer you sit by the fire, long enough for it to die out on its own. you stomp out the remaining glowing embers before crawling into the tent and laying down next to seonghwa.

you think you made up your mind.

"seonghwa," you know he's awake, he always waits for you to join him as you do for him. "can we talk?"

he turns over on his back while you lay on your side to face him. your hand reaches out to take his, linking your fingers together.

"i want to live a peaceful life with you. i want that small cabin, i want our children – your children, i want to take in the wolves, i want to love you everyday that i am able to wake up next to you and after that. i want to try and let go of my guilt enough for this to happen, please help me seonghwa."

seonghwa gives your hand a firm squeeze before he's rolling you onto your back and hovering over you. you let him pin your hands above your head and you can't help the arousal that runs through you when he does it with only one hand. his black locks framing his beautiful face that his clean of blood and war and his eyes are filled with something. lust? love? something else perhaps?

his large frame bends down to kiss you, his hands groping your body as he removes your undergarments so you are now bare and fully naked before his eyes. you watch as he lowers his head and trails his lips down your body; licking, biting, and sucking different marks over your tattered and worn body.

"s-seonghwa," you moan out when he finds home between your legs and licks your pussy slowly and lazily. his eyes never once looking away from yours. he makes out with your pussy, kissing it and letting his tongue drag in and out of your pussy and licking up any juices that you leak. like he's a man dying from thirst and your pussy is his oasis.

seonghwa effortlessly brings you to your first orgasm before he's finally pulling away, but not before pressing one last kiss to your pussy. he once again towers over you, a layer of sweat covering your entire body but you happily wrap your arms around seonghwa to bring into another kiss. your taste yourself on his lips, but you honestly don't mind.

the both of you are breathless when you finally break away, "seonghwa, i love you."

"my y/n, darling, i love you more than you can imagine," he says spreading your legs easily and you can't help but clench at knowing is coming.

"seonghwa, seonghwa, please!" you beg, hands combing through his long locks and brushing them out of his face.

"you know... if we start now, i could have you full and breed by the time we get back to the cabin," he says as you feel the tip of his cockhead running between your folds. "i can just imagine it," he says, slowly pushing himself inside of you, "fuck– you would look so beautiful with my child."

you clench around him the more he pushes inside of you, back arching as his lips latch onto your breast and begin licking and sucking on your nipple.

this isn't the first time you and seonghwa have fucked, but for some reason this felt different. as he thrusted into you, your name leaving his lips and his name leaving yours, you felt full. you felt a warmth spread through you as his taller stature curled into yours and you wrap yourself around him to bring even closer – if it was even possible.

"fuck– seonghwa, i-i'm close!" you could feel your second orgasm coming and it only seemed to drive seonghwa to move his hips faster.

he gave you his smirk, his eyes glazed over with lust, "i'm going to fill you with full of my cum over and over again, darling, until your stuffed and pregnant with my child," he says and you clench at his words. seonghwa does only a few more harsh thrust before you are both cumming. you fill his cum slowly filling you up and and some of it even leaking out around his cock from how much it is.

seonghwa is breathless as he pulls out and quickly folds your legs up and stuffing any cum back into you. you can't help but feel a little flustered at how he that, eyes staring hard at your cum-filled pussy. you then begin to feel a wave of exhaustion rush over you and you are lazily pulling at seonghwa to have him lay next to you.

he lays down next to you with a small 'ugh' sound leaving his lips as he does. you cuddle up next to seonghwa, and you realize that before meeting him, you never would have done this. you rest your head on chest as seonghwa draws his fur cape over the two of you. you can't help but let out a laugh at how it doesn't even fully cover the two of you.

"i want a daughter first," seonghwa says quietly and more to himself than you. "i want to name him dal-nim. it was my mother's name."

"its beautiful."

"what would you name her?"

"idonia," you whisper back, reaching up to kiss his collarbone.

"loving one," is the last thing you hear before you close your eyes and let sleep consume you.

tag list : @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @pyeonghongrie @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @spooo00oky @frgogh @sookacc @seongwin @burnsmepls @ad0rechuu @tunaasan @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @cheesekimchi @confusedmoonchild777 @mjyungi @innieontop @iweirdthingsblog @s0obinluvr @worcesheshestershiresauce @moonlightgrleric @wineyoungie @jeongwangjessmina @lemineso

network : @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

#lost paradise : fff.#joongfryefff24 #cultofdionysusnet #cromernet #kdiarynet #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez blurbs #ateez seonghwa x reader #ateez seonghwa smut #ateez scenarios

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alldoll3dup · 4 months

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໑୧﹒★﹒Veneer crushing on you - one-shot ᰍ﹒∿

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - You are an artist well known for your impeccable works and Veneer really appreciates your work, perhaps even too much (the troll thing didn't happen here)

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 - Trolls

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - GN!Reader, fluff

- Well it all started when Veneer was bored scrolling through Instagram

- Until something caught his attention, it was a painting, very well done by the way, so he decided to do a little stalking on the page

- As time passed, Veneer began to like the paintings of the famous Y/N more and more he admired his work

- As he really wanted to meet you, but couldn't appear at public events because of fans and paparazzis, he had the idea of hiring you to do art for him

- His sister Velvet, on the other hand, thought it was an unnecessary waste of money

- When you were going out on the street you were stopped by one of Veneer's advisors who gave you an offer you couldn't refuse, it was A LOT of money for just one painting and of course you accepted

- Then he gave you the time and place, was it the Velvet and Veneer brothers' mansion? You were perplexed, you didn't know how but you got noticed by your favorite stars you couldn't miss the chance to impress them (especially Veneer)

- You showed up at the agreed place and time and you saw Veneer waiting for you there, you were emotional, but maintained your posture you were just there to paint after all

- When Veneer sees you he immediately smiles and greets you in a way you didn't expect

"Oh my god, you are Y/N in the flesh! I was so looking forward to meeting you up close" - you immediately felt a blush on your cheeks as Veneer shook your hand gently

"I think I was the one who should say this, you're a super pop star and I'm honored to finally meet you" - Veneer practically melted, did you follow his work? It could only be a dream

"D-Do you follow the music i do?" - you laugh a little confused

"Of course! Your songs inspire me, I thought it was obvious" - you see Veneer become totally embarrassed and blushed

"I am inspired by your arts to make music" - you look like two fools exchanging shy glances and silly smiles and Velvet appears looking at you with a certain contempt

"UHHH Get a room lovebirds ew" - she screams loudly as Veneer turns even redder taking you to another place

"Y/N, I'm sorry about Vel, she doesn't know what she's saying" - he says covering his face in shame

"It's okay, I think I'd better start painting now, since that's why I came here, what do you want me to paint?" - you give a small smile, arranging the materials

"I want you to paint me and you together holding hands in the most beautiful place you can imagine" - you nod awkwardly starting the painting while Veneer watches while you doing it

- After a while you finally finish the painting, you and Veneer together in a sunset on the beach, a painting so detailed that it is impressive

- Veneer smiles with the painting in his hands and he hangs it on the wall, turning his attention to you

"You know... we could uh... do this in real life, what do you think?" - he says a little unsure thinking you would refuse him, scratching his head lightly trying not to be so anxious

"Of course! I would love to Veneer" - you say with a slight smile and Veneer hugs you excitedly, already thinking about the thousands of things you will do together

- After some time getting to know each other better and becoming friends, you actually go to the beach together recreating the painting of you two at sunset on the beach

- But with something more, Veneer puts his hand on yours and with his free hand he gently holds your face giving you a little kiss that left you blushing so with a smile on his face he asks you

"Do you want to date me Y/N?"

▐ Hello yall! Hope you liked this little one-shot of this silly lovely guy, if you got any requests send it ♡

▐ Sorry if there are any grammatical errors love you guys ^^

#trolls x reader #veneer trolls #trolls veneer #veneer x reader #velvet and veneer #oneshot #cringe culture is dead #trolls band together #trolls #gn reader

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mxnsterbabe · 2 months

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Male Troll/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 3,343 Tags & Warnings: plus size monster Part One (here) | Part Two (coming soon!) Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

You’re an escort, but the last thing you expected was to fall for your favourite client.

You pause outside the sleek facade of the restaurant, the cool evening air caressing your skin. Glancing at your phone one last time, you scroll through Sorrel's profile, absorbing every detail. Sorrel, an unusual name for an even more unusual client.

Trolls rarely make their way into the heart of the city, preferring the solitude of their natural dwellings. Yet here you are, about to meet one for dinner in one of the most upscale places in town.

Your job often demands a chameleon-like ability to adapt, to mould yourself into whatever your clients desire. A laugh here, a sympathetic nod there, all performed with the ease of a well-rehearsed play.

Sorrel's request is refreshingly simple: just company, and above all, authenticity. It's both refreshing and daunting. How long has it been since you were asked to simply be yourself?

Taking a deep breath, you tuck your phone away. Your reflection in the restaurant's glass doors gives you a moment's pause—a young woman, elegantly dressed, poised on the edge of an unfamiliar encounter.

With a final steadying breath, you push the door open and step into the warm, amber-lit interior.

A pretty waitress, with a smile as polished as the cutlery, guides you through the restaurant when you enter. The beauty of the place unfolds around you; all soft lighting and hushed tones. Chandeliers cast a golden glow over tables draped in pristine white linen, each adorned with delicate glassware and silver.

The murmur of conversation blends with the gentle clinking of dishes, and soft, classical music plays. It doesn’t strike you as the kind of place a troll would like; they’re known for their love of natural living, not fine-dining.

As you take in the opulence, a flutter of self-consciousness washes over you. The elegance of your surroundings makes you feel suddenly underdressed, and you can't help but wonder about Sorrel. The cost of dining here must be astronomical; does he intend to make a statement, perhaps to showcase you as a trophy of his affluence?

As you approach the booth, you see him. Sorrel is a striking figure, a hulking presence that commands the space around him. His mossy green hair, a wild, natural crown, complements the dense fur that covers his body. His eyes, sharp and discerning, fix on you, and there's an intelligence in his gaze that belies the brutish stereotype of his kind. Despite the tailored suit that strains slightly against his muscular frame, there's no disguising the power in his broad shoulders, the soft curve of his belly. The suit, while elegant, seems almost a concession to human norms, doing little to mask his inherent, rugged appeal.

A wave of unexpected attraction washes over you, stirring a flush of excitement in your stomach. It's an odd sensation, this pull towards someone so different.

Gathering your composure, you slide into the booth, the soft leather cool against your skin. The space between you and Sorrel crackles with an energy as you offer a gentle smile.

"Hello," you begin, your voice well-rehearsed. You're acutely aware of your posture, the calculated tilt of your head, the practiced smile. Sorrel asked for authenticity, but it’s difficult when faced with such an imposing man.

Sorrel's response, however, is not what you anticipate. His voice, deep and resonant, carries a gentleness that seems at odds with his formidable appearance. "Good evening," he rumbles, his sharp eyes softening. "I hope the night finds you well."

As he speaks, the tension in your shoulders begins to ebb. There's a sincerity in his words, a vulnerability that peeks through the confident exterior.

With a smile, you turn to the menu. You hesitate, the array of exquisite dishes foreign and intimidating. There are a lot of words, and a lot of words that you don’t understand.

Maybe sensing your uncertainty, Sorrel leans in. His hands brush against yours, and the warmth of him makes you shiver..

"The risotto is my favourite. The salmon, too - it’s this one here, at the bottom."

You glance up at him, face flushed. You’ve been on countless escort jobs, and it’s always just been that. A job. Yet, as you soak in Sorrel’s warmth, his fur tickling your palm, something stirs inside you.

The words stick in the back of your throat as a waitress arrives. All you can do is nod in agreement as Sorrel makes a suggestion, and the waitress departs with your order.

There's a lull in the conversation, a moment of silence as you take in the man before you. "I must admit," you find yourself saying, breaking the quiet with a nervous laugh, "I didn't expect someone like you to be in a place like this." The words are out before you can stop them, and a flush of embarrassment warms your cheeks. "I mean, I made assumptions based on... well, what I thought I knew about trolls. I'm sorry."

Sorrel's laughter, rich and warm, fills the space between you. "No offense taken," he assures, his smile genuine. "I often find myself frequenting these types of restaurants. The same way the forest holds its charm, so does a well-crafted dish or a beautifully composed piece of music."

"I've not had the chance to dine in places as grand as this very often," you admit with a laugh, the restaurant's opulence still wrapping around you like a soft blanket. "It's a rare treat. You must do quite well for yourself, Sorrel. What is it that you do?"

Sorrel sets his glass down, the light catching the deep green of his eyes. "I left my clan some years ago," he begins, his voice solemn now. "We had... differing views on how to engage with the expanding human world. I believed in integration, in finding a way to coexist beneficially."

You lean in, captivated by his story, the depth of his conviction. "So, what did you do?"

"I started my own company," he says, a hint of pride in his voice. "We specialize in eco-friendly construction materials. It sounds dull, I know, but it’s something I care about."

Your chest flutters. "That's incredible," you respond, genuinely impressed. "Although, I’m sorry about your family.

He shrugs. “Don’t be, it’s been a long time since I’ve been back home.”

The arrival of the meal serves as a delicious interruption, and the garlicky, savoury smell makes your mouth water. The risotto you chose under Sorrel's recommendation is creamy and rich, with the earthy aroma of truffles enveloping you. Sorrel's salmon is presented with an artistry that matches the taste, the fish's delicate flesh flaking at the touch of his fork.

"This is incredible," you murmur, savouring each bite, your previous apprehensions about the evening melting away with the flavors on your tongue.

Sorrel smiles, watching you with a contented gaze that makes your heart flutter. "I'm glad you're enjoying it."

You smile, delving in, beginning to forget that this isn’t a real date. As you eat, the conversation meanders from the culinary arts to travel, to the hidden corners of the world each of you dreams of exploring. He’s a traveller, like you, although he’s visited places you could never dream of.

As the main course plates are cleared away, Sorrel suggests a dessert to share, a classic tiramisu that promises to be as light as air. When it arrives, you both lean in, the spoon Sorrel hands you brushing against his, sending a spark of electricity through you. You scoop a small portion, the dessert's creamy layers dissolving instantly on your tongue, and you can't help but close your eyes in appreciation.

"Good?" Sorrel asks, his voice low and tinged with amusement.

"More than," you reply, opening your eyes to find his gaze lingering on you with an intensity that quickens your pulse.

It's easy, in the soft lighting and over the shared sweetness of dessert, to forget the nature of how this evening came to be.

It's only when the waiter discreetly presents the bill that reality nudges you back into your role. Sorrel doesn't hesitate, reaching for his wallet with a grace that belies his size.

"How would you prefer the payment?" he asks, his tone casual but with a hint of something more, perhaps a reluctance for the evening to end in such a transactional manner.

The question jolts you back to the present, a reminder of the professional boundary that, for a fleeting moment, had seemed all but erased. "A bank transfer would be fine, thank you," you manage to say, your voice steady despite the way your stomach twists.

As you stand to leave, the warmth of the restaurant's ambiance contrasts sharply with the cool detachment now settling over you. Sorrel escorts you to the exit, his presence as reassuring as it is imposing.

At the doorway, you turn to him, the night air cool on your skin. "Thank you, Sorrel, for a truly wonderful evening," you say, sincerity lacing your words.

"Thank you," he replies, and something like regret flickers in his eyes.

On impulse, you rise on your toes and place a gentle kiss on his cheek. It's a small gesture, but it carries the weight of all the evening's revelations, his fur soft against your neck.

“Goodbye, Sorrel.”

“Goodbye. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

As you part ways, the night swallowing his towering figure, you're left with a warmth that no chill can dispel. The memory of the evening, of Sorrel, lingers like a sweet aftertaste, leaving you wondering just how you’re supposed to forget about him.

***

A week slips by, quieter than usual, leading you to pick up part-time shifts at a local hotel to fill the gaps. The monotony of the days contrasts sharply with the vivid memory of your evening with Sorrel, which lingers no matter how much you try to forget.

When a new request pops up on the escort site from Sorrel, your heart leaps. The anticipation, the unexpected thrill of seeing him again, infuses your routine with a newfound energy. Preparations for your meeting are made with a care and attention you hadn't realized you'd been missing.

The park chosen for your rendezvous is entirely different to the opulent restaurant of your first encounter. As the evening draws in, the tranquility of the park, with its towering trees and the soft murmur of the evening breeze, soothes your nerves.

You spot Sorrel at the agreed-upon spot, his imposing figure somehow at peace among the natural surroundings. Today, he’s wearing a more casual fitted black shirt that hugs his generous curves.

His face lights up as he sees you approach, a genuine smile spreading across his features.

"It's wonderful to see you again," he greets, his voice carrying a warmth that wraps around you like a comforting embrace.

"The feeling's mutual, Sorrel," you reply, your own smile reflecting your genuine happiness. "I wasn't sure if you'd... well, want to meet again."

"Why wouldn't I?" he asks, his tone laced with genuine confusion and a hint of amusement. "Our last evening together was more enjoyable than I've had in a long time. I've been looking forward to this all week."

Your heart flutters at his words. It’s your job, you know, to be liked - but hearing it from him sends a thrill through you.

"I'm glad,” you say. “I've thought a lot about our last, er, date."

Sorrel's gaze softens, the park's gentle evening light casting a serene glow over his features. "I've found myself doing the same. There's a simplicity in your company, a peace I've come to... crave."

The admission hangs between you. It's clear that the bond formed over that dinner has only deepened with time, but you have to wonder if this feels all a little too real.

"Would you like to take a walk?" Sorrel suggests, gesturing to the winding path that leads deeper into the park.

"I'd like that," you agree, and together, you begin to walk. You link an arm through his, enjoying how big and sturdy he is. It’s difficult to resist the urge to lean in close, soaking up the scent of his cologne.

The park around you is quiet, the occasional rustle of leaves and distant sounds of the city the only interruptions to the silence.

As you walk alongside Sorrel, the proximity and the gentle brush of his hand against yours send ripples of excitement through you. Each step seems to synchronize with the beating of your heart, a rhythm that echoes the growing closeness between you. The thrill of all surprises you, and you find yourself leaning deeper against his plush side.

The small talk that fills the air between you is comfortable, and you find yourself eagerly listening to Sorrel’s deep, rumbling voice. You chat about the park, and the mundane details of your respective weeks. Yet, beneath the surface, there's a tension, as if there’s something more floating beneath the surface.

It's Sorrel who breaks the veil of casual conversation, his voice taking on a more somber tone. "You know, I've always found myself caught between two worlds," he begins, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. "In the city, I'm too troll for most people to understand. Among my own kind, my views, my... aspirations make me an outsider. Too modern for my own kind, but too different for everybody else."

You listen, your heart aching at the vulnerability he's willing to share. The loneliness of his position between two worlds, becomes achingly clear.

"That's part of why I sought your company initially," he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. "I needed to feel understood, even if it was just for a moment, even if it had to be... bought."

The honesty of his admission strikes a chord within you, the professional facade crumbling further with each word.

"Now," Sorrel pauses, taking a deep breath, "my mother is ill. She's asked me to come home."

The weight of his words hangs in the air, heavy with the gravity of his decision. The silence that follows is filled with a thousand unasked questions, each one a reflection of the complexity of his situation and the depth of your concern for him.

"What will you do?" you find yourself asking, the question laden with more than professional curiosity. It's a question born of a connection that's deepened beyond expectation, a genuine concern for his well-being.

Sorrel stops walking, turning to face you. In the fading light, his expression is a mix of resolve and uncertainty, green eyes thoughtful.

"I don't know," he admits, and in that moment, the vulnerability he displays, the raw honesty of his predicament, draws you even closer.

You stay quiet, allowing him a moment to think.

Sorrel's gaze drifts away for a moment, lost in thought, as if he's trying to piece together the puzzle of his future right there in front of you. "I think I need to go back," he says finally, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of resignation. "I want to be there for her, help her heal. She's always been the anchor of our clan, and without her strength..."

He trails off, the weight of his responsibilities, of his love for his family, evident in the pause. "Once she's well, perhaps I'll return to the city. Or perhaps not. The truth is, I don't know where I truly belong."

The vulnerability in his admission, the open-ended nature of his future, pulls at something deep within you. You reach out, almost instinctively, your hand finding his. The touch is electric, and you let out a muffled sigh.

"It sounds like you've got a tough road ahead," you say, your voice soft but full of empathy. "Being there for your family, making sure your mother has everything she needs to recover... it's a beautiful thing to do, Sorrel. It speaks a lot about the kind of person you are."

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and in his eyes, you see a mixture of gratitude and something else, something deeper.

"Thank you," he whispers, and there's a warmth in his voice that wraps around you like a comforting embrace. "For understanding, for... for being here with me now."

The moment stretches between you. So does the quiet. The world around you fades into the background, leaving only the heavy thrum of your pulse in your ears.

"You should do what's best for you," you find yourself saying, your words laced with an unspoken sadness at the thought of his departure. "Your family needs you, and it's clear your heart is with them, too."

Sorrel squeezes your hand gently, a silent acknowledgment of the truth in your words. "I guess I always knew my path would lead me back home, eventually."

A twinge of disappointment tugs at your heart as the reality of Sorrel's impending departure settles in. Despite the professional boundaries you should adhere to, you can't deny the longing that has blossomed between you. Yet, beneath the layers of what-ifs, you find resignation setting in.

As you both resume walking, the conversation gently shifts, weaving through lighter topics. You admit, you’re grateful for the change of topic.

You share stories of your travels, the places Sorrel has been, places you’d love to go.

"I've always wanted to visit Thailand," you mention wistfully, the image of crystal-clear waters and verdant landscapes painting your words. "The culture, the food, the beaches... it seems like a world away from here."

Sorrel listens intently, his interest genuine. "Thailand is beautiful," he agrees, "you should go sometime."

The conversation takes an unexpected turn when Sorrel, with a look of determination, insists on paying you extra for your time. "Consider it a contribution towards your Thailand adventure," he says, his tone brooking no argument.

You hesitate, aghast at the number when you check your bank account. Three-thousand dollars. The offer touching yet tinged with the finality of a parting gift.

"Sorrel, that's too generous, I can't—"

"Please," he interrupts, his voice soft but firm. "Let this be my way of ensuring you get to experience the beauty of the world. You deserve it."

The sincerity in his eyes, coupled with the depth of gratitude you feel, crumbles your resistance. "Thank you," you say, the words barely a whisper, laden with a mix of emotions. "I'll never forget this."

You don’t know what else to say; but as it is, you don’t need to.

As you stand there, on the brink of farewell, Sorrel leans in. His kiss is unexpected but fervently returned as you stand on your toes, arms looping around his wide, plush waist. His lips are firm against yours, nipping at you with a passion that ignites a fire within you, the heat of his touch searing through the cool night air.

The kiss deepens, and for a moment, the world falls away, leaving only the two of you locked together, pulse racing.

As the kiss ends, a lingering warmth remains. You stand there, caught in the afterglow, the night air now charged with longing.

Sorrel's gaze holds yours, a myriad of unspoken words swirling in the depths of his eyes. "This... This was unexpected," he murmurs, the raw honesty in his voice mirroring the vulnerability in his gaze.

You nod, a gentle smile curving your lips despite the ache in your chest. "The best things usually are," you reply, your voice soft, laced with the bittersweet tang of parting.

There's a pause, a moment suspended in time, before you lean in for one final kiss. This one is softer,, a whisper of a goodbye in the brief touch of lips.

With a light-heartedness that feels forced, you step back and offer a playful smile. "Keep in touch, okay?" The words slip out, half in jest, half in hope, even as you understand the impossibility of the request.

Sorrel's smile is tinged with a gentle sadness, an acknowledgment of the unlikelihood of such a promise. "I'll remember this," he says, his voice a low rumble, rich with emotion. "I'll remember you."

You know, from the snippets of his life he's shared, that returning to his clan means stepping away from the world as you know it. The isolation of his people, their disconnection from the modern trappings of communication, almost brings tears to your eyes.

As you part ways, the echo of his final words lingers in your heart. The night wraps around you, and you shudder.

You hope to see him again someday. Somehow, you have the feeling that you will.

#exophilia fiction #exophilia #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster x reader #tag: mxf #tag: male monster #tag: female reader #tag: sfw #tag: troll #tag: plus size #trying something new bc some people like present tense??#think i'll stick to past tense tbh

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tossawary · 4 months

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One of my favorite Discworld books is actually one of the more obscure ones, "Moving Pictures", which is about the invention of films and the movie business in this fantasy world that has dwarves and trolls and wizards and so on. It has its rough patches like every early Discworld book, but Ginger's speech about people who were born in the wrong time or wrong place for their dreams really gets to me in a good way, and I love all of the references to classic films and commentary on fame and creativity. It also has classic characters like Gaspode the Talking Dog and C.M.O.T. Dibbler, and it introduces Detritus's romance with another troll named Ruby.

Perhaps most importantly to me is that this book introduces Ponder Stibbons, who is a wizard, and who goes on in later books to be one of the most important members of the Unseen University (he holds like twelve different positions), in that he's one of the few people who can competently manage a project and so ends up managing nearly everything. (Bear with me, it's been a while since I read any Discworld and my memory is a little rough.) In "Moving Pictures", Ponder is the classmate (roommate?) of a fellow named Victor Tugelbend, who is one of the main characters.

Victor begins the book as a career student, in that a wealthy relative left him a great deal of money exclusively for school; so as long as he STAYS in school, all of his living expenses are paid for. If Victor graduates, that's the end of the money. If Victor drops out, that's the end of the money. But if Victor manages to hit a specific mark range in the 80s every year, then he gets to stay on for another year and try again, and so Victor is perhaps the most dedicated and knowledgeable wizardry student in the university's history, because you have to know what the right answer is in order to intentionally get a certain number of the questions wrong, so that you can continue to coast along on your college fund.

Ponder's graduation is (accidentally) Victor's fault, because Victor runs away to get into the movie business. (I won't spoil what happens, but it's VERY funny.) Now, I like to imagine after the events of the book, after Ponder holds a faculty position in the university, Victor comes BACK to the university occasionally as a disgustingly well-paid external consultant, which drives Ponder UP THE FUCKING WALL. Like, people are so stingy all of the time but SOMEHOW the university budget has room to bring your offensively handsome dropout roommate back just to say, "Hmm, yes, that looks bad. Have you tried turning it off and on again?" I'd throw a fit, honestly. (As soon as Ponder has enough seniority, he probably puts his foot down to stop this if Victor isn't actually useful. Maybe he is, idk, but maybe not for THAT consulting fee.)

I also like to imagine that Victor Tugelbend and Theda "Ginger" Withel are still together, maybe even still acting (badly? mediocre-ly? decently?) together, in some dingy little theatre (Ginger is the director and runs their acting troupe like a tyrant) where the front seats are regularly filled with middle-aged folks who still sigh over the memories of moving pictures. (Moving pictures are now, presumably, VERY illegal in Ankh Morpork.) Victor and Ginger have only because even more attractive as they've gotten older, which is EVEN MORE OFFENSIVE to poor Ponder because his former movie star former roommate is married to another gorgeous former movie star?! I'd throw another fit.

Anyway, I think Ponder deserves to have an affair with a pair of aging former movie stars. I like to imagine this purely because I think it's funny. He seems kind of busy for marriage, so joining someone else's marriage part-time might be good for him. It probably makes most of the rest of the Unseen University faculty breathlessly envious and that really does it for him.

And I think that this affair would OF COURSE be covered by every newspaper and tabloid in the city, including The Times, and William de Worde and Sacharissa Cripslock don't fully understand why their entertainment reporter is so breathlessly excited about people who were famous over a decade ago? (Supermarket tabloids love to tell me about alleged affairs of people who were famous 20+ years ago.) The article on Victor Maraschino and Delores De Syn's failing marriage* is their bestselling newspaper in months and William puts his head down on his desk in despair. (He's fine. This happens on a weekly at least basis. He just needs a minute.)

*Victor and Ginger are very happy with this situation, actually. They're going to take Ponder to dinner to go on a double date with Ruby and Detritus soon. Victor and Ponder are going to get distracted arguing about some of the Inadvisably Applied Magic research projects, but that's fine, because Ginger wants to talk to Ruby about this one-troll-woman-show concept. (Detritus will proudly hand out tickets at the Watch station and accidentally intimidate all of his coworkers into accepting the invitation.)

#tossawary discworld #fic ideas #spoilers #long post

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kittyball23 · 5 months

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How do you think Trolls World Tour would’ve played out if Branch reunited with Floyd who was living with the rock trolls but fled when he heard of Barb’s plan to find help to stop her only to run into Poppy and his little brother all grown up?

I think it perhaps would have played out a little something like this 🙂:

Between a Rock and a Hard Place (a Trolls fanfic)

“AAAHHHHHHH!”

The scream startled Branch and Poppy, the pair of them taken aback by the sight of their friend, Biggie, frantically scurrying through the crowd of Trolls in the Village’s clearing. The cause of his fear was made apparent when the Trolls noticed a fuzzy, bat-like creature zipping along right behind him, flapping its leathery, black wings persistently, her bugged red eyes fixed unwaveringly on him.

“Help!” Biggie cried out in desperation. “I’m being harangued by a monster!”

Giving up trying to outrun it, the big blue Troll crouched down and put his hands over his head, hoping it would perhaps go away. But, it didn’t. The creature beat its wings against him and made angry hissing sounds.

“Someone stop it!” he whimpered helplessly.

Luckily, as he’d wished, it was right at that moment that a shock of magenta hair whipped out and snatched the creature from the air. Relief passed through the Trolls, until they realized that it was not the Pop Queen who had grabbed the critter. In fact, it was nobody that the village knew.

But - standing there in the clearing donning black shorts with a large belt buckle, and a simple, black, pearl earring - the Troll seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

“Gotcha! Okay, shhh, shh… Now calm down,... who’s a good girl? You’re a good girl…”

The batty creature struggled in the newcomer’s grasp for a second, not appreciating being held steadfast, but quickly was soothed as the Troll rubbed its furry little belly and spoke hushedly. Pretty soon, its flapping had stopped entirely and purred, the vibration rumbling against his teal hand.

Once the others could sense no more imminent danger, they began to gather a little closer, whispering among themselves.

“Who is that?” Legsly asked, pointing at the new Troll. “And what is that thing he’s holding?” she added, referring to the critter.

“It’s creepy!” Cooper shuddered, shielding his eyes from the creature.

“It’s scary!” Satin and Chenille chimed at the same time.

“And… naAaAAasty,” Guy Diamond yelped in his techno-like voice.

“Hold me, Daddy!” Tiny Diamond whimpered in his deep voice, letting his father clutch him close for protection.

Suddenly realizing that all the attention had gone to him, the newcomer shrunk under everybody’s gaze, bashfully tucking his head down between his shoulders and allowing his magenta bangs to fall over his face, so that it shielded his left eye.

Branch’s eyes narrowed at him, though he could feel that his gaze was not as intense as he would’ve liked for it to be. Reason being, there was something strangely familiar about this Troll. What it was, though, he couldn’t pinpoint right away. That hair, that voice… he could’ve sworn he’d seen and heard it, if long ago in his memory.

As it turned out, it wasn’t a much different situation for the new Troll, either. He looked at him curiously, mirroring Branch by slightly tilting his head and narrowing his eyes, as if there too was something he was trying to figure out. It was only when he shifted his gaze down to the leafy green vest Branch was wearing that things clicked. Recognition seemed to flash across his face in an instant, the magenta-haired Troll lifting his eyes to meet Branch’s and looking as though he were about to say something. But before he could…

“‘To Queen Poppy’?” Poppy read aloud from a scroll that the creature had dropped on the ground. She was confused to see her name written on it, and continued to read. “’Barb, Queen of Rock, announces her One Nation of Trolls Under Rock World Tour. Bring your string to the biggest party in the world has ever seen.’” Poppy beamed. “Oh, don’t worry everyone. It’s an invitation!”

The Trolls chattered excitedly. A party? With games and presents and glitter galore? That sounded like fun!

“But why does she need our string?” Cooper questioned.

“And what does ‘Queen of Rock’ mean? Who is she?” Poppy asked aloud.

“You don’t wanna know.”

Poppy whirled around to face the newcomer, his silence having her almost forget entirely that he was even there. “Trust me,” he said again, “you don’t.”

The Pop Queen was startled to hear such a thing. “But… it’s a party!” she exclaimed.

“Not the kind you wanna go to,” the Troll replied without hesitation. “Not with what the Hard Rockers have planned…”

Poppy shook her head. “But who are they?”

“Nobody!” King Peppy shouted, hurrying into the crowd of Trolls, sidling up to his daughter’s side and tearing the invitation from her hand. He proceeded to crumble it in a frenzy, all while crying out hysterically. “Nobody saw anything! Nothing to see here!” He then turned to the magenta-haired Troll and began to shove him away. “Young man, go back to where you came from! Now, please!”

“Whoa, whoa, Dad!” Poppy called, touching her father on the shoulder. He yelped, jolting and looking at her wildly. Popy was baffled. Her Dad was kicking out a Troll? What in the world for? She took his hands in hers in and spoke soothingly to calm him. “Dad, what’s going on?”

King Peppy gazed deeply into her eyes for a moment, peering between her and the new Troll, and then sighed.

“Oh, Poppy,” he moaned, “I’ve long feared this day would come. I was hoping to protect you from this.”

Poppy raised an eyebrow. “Protect me?” she asked. “I’m not a little kid anymore, Dad. I’m the queen now.”

“You’re right,” King Peppy agreed, nodding slowly. “The truth is… we are not alone in this world…”

Mr. Dinkles made a spooky sound to accompany King Peppy’s explanation. Biggie stuck a finger in his pet form’s round mouth.

“Shhh!” Biggie said to his little friend.

“You see, there are other kinds of Trolls,” King Peppy told everyone. The Trolls around him were silent for a moment, taking this in. Other Trolls? What did King Peppy mean?”

“Wow, really?” Poppy said enthusiastically. “Dad, that’s great! The more Trolls, the merrier!”

The newcomer scoffed. “If only it were that easy,” he mumbled.

King Peppy cut his eyes to him, frowning. “Young man, this conversation does not involve you. I’ve asked you to leave once… don’t make me have to call security!” He jerked a thumb over to where Smidge was standing, the little Troll cracking her knuckles in anticipation of a potential scuffle.

The Troll gulped at the sight, and quickly stammered an explanation. “N-no! Please, I’m not here to cause trouble. I came here to help you guys.”

But when Peppy did not relax, and Poppy began to show signs of discomfort at the confrontation, Branch stepped in to enforce the matter.

“You heard him,” he stated simply, but with a hardness to his voice that spoke more volumes alongside the clenched fists at his side.

“I know,” he replied. “But I can’t just leave you guys in danger, Branch.”

“We’re more than capable of taking care of our - Wait, what?” Branch blinked, surprised to hear this stranger call him by name. How did he know who he was?

The Troll offered a gentle smile. “It’s been a while, bro.”

The blue Troll gasped, realizing exactly who this was and being unable to believe it. All the years he waited and waited, until he couldn't anymore, and now he was back? He could almost feel tears pooling in his eyes as a mix of conflicting emotions assaulted him.

Poppy saw the strong reaction coming from her friend, and cautiously spoke to the newcomer.

“I’m sorry... Who did you say you were, again?”

The newcomer let out a breath he was holding, tucked the bat creature under one arm and extended his other to Poppy to properly introduce himself.

“Forgive me for not doing this sooner. My name is Floyd,” he said, “and I’m Branch’s brother.”

__________________________________________

With the manner in which the Trolls in the clearing had erupted into a cacophony of noise - a mix of questions about the Troll-turned-sibling, panic-stricken worries over the idea of the existence of other strange Trolls, and even outright screaming - it came as no surprise that Peppy had ordered for them to break into a smaller group, to allow for a little more privacy.

It was here in the beautiful secluded grotto in the company of just Floyd, Poppy, Branch, and the Snack Pack that King Peppy wove a tale unlike any other that had been heard. A story of six Tribes of Trolls, each uniquely defined by their special taste in music - Techno, Funk, Classical, Country, Rock, and Pop - and how harmony had been created as a result of it. The harmony, however, was not meant to last. Intolerance sprouted like weeds, leading to discord, leading to the ultimate separation of each tribe. But perhaps the most striking part of the tale was the revelation of their own string - the Pop string, a gorgeous pink in color and producing an equally gorgeous sound, housing the very lifeforce that made them them - the toe-tapping, finger-snapping, rump-shaking Trolls they were.

“Ohh, I get it,” Poppy murmured, “Queen Barb wants to reunite the strings so that the Trolls Kingdom can be one big party again!” The Pop Queen grinned a little. She liked the sound of that!

But Floyd shook his head. “Um, no,” he disagreed gently. “Barb has no interest whatsoever in uniting the world. She wants to destroy it. And she’s going to do it one tribe at a time until there’s none left!” He picked up the invite from where it lay (a little wrinkled, but still legible) next to the ancient scroll that King Peppy had used to depict the tale. “These invitations were just the first step. A deception. And anyone who doesn’t give up their string is going to have it taken by force.” He looked at the bat critter in his hands and sighed. “I tried to stop the invite from even reaching you guys, but I guess I wasn’t fast enough to keep up with Debbie here…”

Poppy was stunned. “B-but… why would another queen use her power for evil? Didn’t anyone try to stop her?”

“The Hard Rockers are all on board,” Floyd explained. “She managed to convince everyone that this was the best thing to do for her people. They all believed her. Well, um… except for me. But then again, I was never a true Rock Troll from the start…”

Poppy snapped her fingers. “That’s riiiight… and that’s something else I’m not understanding…” She turned on her friend. “Branch! How come you never told me you have a secret brother?!”

The blue Troll frowned. “What’s there to tell? I have no brothers.”

Floyd was confused. “Branch, what are you talking about? Just take a look at us…”

It was true. Even by sight, there was a very distinct similarity between the two of them, from their teal skin, purple noses, round face shapes, and even slight downward curve of their ears.

But Branch crossed his arms defiantly. “I have no brothers,” he said again, emphasizing each syllable, “because the day you walked out on me, you lost the chance to ever call me that again.”

“Branch, please, believe me, I was going to come back, it’s just - “

“Just what?” Branch cut in, scoffing. “You’re a liar. You never followed through with your promise.”

Floyd fiddled with his fingers. “Well, um, I mean, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Uh-huh… twenty years TOO LATE!” Branch turned to the others in the grotto. “Why should we believe someone like this? For all we know, he could be a spy for these ‘Hard Rock’ Trolls!” He searched his friends’ faces. Silently taking it all in, Biggie, Smidge, Cooper, Guy Diamond, and Legsly were a mixture of uncertainty and concern, not sure what to make of it.

King Peppy spoke up for them. “Branch,” he said gently, “I certainly see where you’re coming from. But… are you willing to put our tribe in danger because of it?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but it’s a risk I’m not willing to take.” He then waved to the Trolls. “Hurry now! We must prepare before Barb arrives! We’ve got no time to lose!”

“Dad, wait!” Poppy cried, trying to stop her him and her friends as they shuffled off. “Guys, come on! Just because they’re different doesn’t mean that the solution is fighting! Branch, help me out here, say something!”

Branch marched right by her. “Wait for me!” he called out. But as he scurried by, he was grabbed by the arm.

“Branch, wait,” Floyd pleaded. Then he turned to Poppy. “Could you, uh… give us a minute?” he asked politely.

Branch wanted to protest, but he groaned, and did not put up a fight. “I’ll meet you in a second, Poppy,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh! Um, okay…” She trudged off, sparing one last glance at them before heading off in the direction her father had gone. The two boys were left there in an awkward, tense silence.

Floyd broke it first, clearing his throat. “Wow… you’ve really grown into that vest of mine. You’re… a man now.”

Branch kept his back turned to him as he answered tersely. “Just goes to show how long it’s been.”

Floyd sighed. “Look, Branch, I know that nothing I can say is a valid enough excuse for what happened. I guess I just got so caught up with my solo career once the Rock Trolls took me in. But I swear that there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think about you.” He chuckled for a second. “Remember how we used to make up songs and dances? It was a lot of fun.”

It was, Branch recalled, almost wanting to smile, but he composed himself. “That’s all in the past,” he said coldly, turning to look him right in the eye. “And besides, actions speak louder than words. And the fact is that you never came back.”

Branch felt a tug at his heart when Floyd winced, hurt by his words. But then again, they were words of truth.

“You’re right,” Floyd said, “Actions do speak louder than words. And here I am now, trying to save my little brother from something that I know for sure is going to harm him. Because I want him to be safe. It was a mistake to leave him the first time. And I don’t want to lose him again.”

Branch felt himself loosening. He wanted to keep up the wall of ice he built around himself should any of his brothers try to come back into his life. But not even those walls were immune to the warmth of Floyd’s kindness. “I really want to believe you, Floyd,” he whispered, “I just don’t know if I can…”

“Then let's just take things one step at a time, okay?” And when Branch nodded, Floyd took the opportunity to extend his arms out, allowing Branch to decide whether he wanted to make a move or not.

It didn’t take long to come to that decision, though. Branch embraced Floyd in a replica of that very same night that he had left him. He squeezed tightly, wanting to confirm his physical presence, and afraid to let go should he have been a mirage this entire time.

“Awww…”

The pair broke apart, finding Poppy cooing at the scene. She grinned sheepishly upon realizing she’d intruded on the private moment.

“Oh! I’m sorry…”

“It’s all right, Poppy,” Branch assured. “We’re just about done here.”

“Oh, good,” she breathed in relief. “Well, I mean, because, I wanted to talk to you guys about Barb. We’ve gotta stop her!”

“Can’t say I disagree with the endgoal here, but the trouble comes in the ‘how,’” Floyd pointed out.

“Well, we can think about it as we get everyone safely hidden away in the bunker,” Branch said, waving them to follow.

“Bunker?” Floyd asked, coming up alongside his brother.

“Oh, it’s the coolest thing ever!” Poppy gushed. “It’s underground, and it’s got all these tunnels and rooms, and trapdoors, and… and so much cool stuff!”

Floyd beamed. “Wow, so you built the hideout, huh? I’m proud of you, Branch.”

“Hideout?” The Pop Queen echoed, curious.

There was a hint of a bashful blush in the blue Troll’s cheeks as he shrugged in reply. “Heh, well, it’s not that big of a deal…”

“Of course it is,” Floyd countered, bumping his elbow against his. “Did you even add the ten-story waterslide?”

Poppy gasped. “A waterslide in the bunker? That sounds amazing!”

But Branch shook his head. “Nah.”

“But then, how do you shower?”

Branch answered his brother’s teasing question with a little smirk. “I bathe.”

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #floyd trolls #branch trolls #poppy trolls #trolls 2 #trolls world tour #dreamworks #fanfiction #kittyball writes #thanks for the ask!#kittyball answers #100+

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hs-transfusion · 3 months

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> FEFERI PEIXES

HEMO: Jade (#078446) TROLLTAG: compassiveCullture [CC] SIGN: Virpis, Sign of the Nurturing STRIFE: ribbonkind MODUS: Rhyme LUNAR SWAY: Prospit MYTH. ROLE: Maid of Hope LAND: Land of Bells and Ribbons

CC: * You’re gonna be a total *STAR*, I just know it!!!

Of all the jadebloods in the BROODING CAVERNS, Feferi is by far one of the highest achievers when it comes to CARING FOR THE YOUNG. While she'd love basking in the HARSH ALTERNIAN SUN, she instead devotes herself to DOTING ON THE YOUNG, and otherwise holding what little position of AUTHORITY she can over the other jades in her cluster. Her RADIANT SMILE makes it very hard for other people to admit that she perhaps ENJOYS BOSSING PEOPLE AROUND a little too much.

Unbeknownst to others, when looking after grubs, she attempts to SECRETLY IMPLANT THE IDEA of a more COMPASSIONATE SOCIETY where culling doesn't refer to thinning the herd. In her downtime (of which she has very little), she also enjoys both DANCING AND SINGING, dreaming of either becoming an HONORARY EMPRESS, or, more reasonably, an INTERNET INFLUENCER.

Feferi's RHYME Fetch Modus requires her to produce a VALID RHYME for an item she wants to retrieve. The catch is, rhymes CANNOT BE RE-USED. They can, however, simply be made longer by appending UNRELATED WORDS to the start of them (i.e. to retrieve a PLACEMAT, she could rhyme RACERAT, and then BIGGER RACERAT, then GREEN RACERAT, th).

Feferi's lusus is classified as the MATER NATURAE; a virgin mother grub -- highly unusual for its species, it has ABDICATED FROM BROODING and has instead taken Feferi as its charge. This unspoken-of and almost SCANDALOUS happenstance has inspired Feferi's REBELLIOUS ASPIRATIONS.

The LAND OF BELLS AND RIBBONS is a bright, cheery planet, perfect for Feferi. Its crowning monument is a GIANT, RUSTED BELL that has been worn down from EONS OF MISUSE, just begging to be given a good clean and a LOUD RING. Perhaps that would awaken the sour ABRAXAS...

Feferi's ancestor is known as DIRECTOR IRONHEEL. She was essentially the JADEBLOOD PRINCIPAL, maintaining order over her CLUSTERMATES and ensuring a STRICT CURRICULUM for all future hatched trolls.

#homestuck #transfusion au #feferi peixes #hiveswap #bloodswap

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vintagerpg · 1 month

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Knock offs, all the way down. I love this stuff, man, it just scratches an itch in my brain in a way that never fails to be entertaining.

So, this is Skull Turret (1982), one of two little plastic towers made to hold the monster figures from Arco’s Dragons n’ Monsters line of rack toys. The other one is Headsgone Tower. Each had one dragon and three monsters, all molded in colored plastic that is so bright it is difficult to photograph. I have the full compliment, save one of the dragons.

The towers are cute, but the monsters are the interesting bit. Old heads might have already noticed, certainly folks who listened to the podcast episode on these guys know: the little dudes are knock-offs of various RPG miniatures. The dragon that I don’t have is Ral Partha’s Royal Dragon, while the one I do have is just the Welsh dragon in plastic. The Cylcops and the Birdman are both very close but not exact replicas of minis from Martian Metals (circa 1979?). The fellow with the whip is a crude copy of Tom Meier’s Troll Discipline Master from Citadel (circa 1981?). The Djinn is from Heritage, as is the “Brawn Hulk,” itself an Umber Hulk from D&D with the serial numbers filed off. Last, and perhaps most recognizable, is the Lizardman With Club from Grenadier’s line of Dungeons & Dragons miniatures from 1980.

I love them!

#dungeons & dragons #tabletop rpg #roleplaying game #rpg #d&d #ttrpg #Arco #Dragons N Monsters #Knockoffs

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just-a-little-cellist · 11 months

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Hey its me who asked for your The Unexpected Guest, and it was brilliant! I love the idea of part 2 it makes more sense!

I loved your idea of once they get to Rivendell Thorins and readers feelings are explored and some spicy stuff happens

Thank you, and love your work!☺️x

(I'm really glad you enjoyed it! I'm really sorry for the wait for part 2 - uni work, work work and writer's block are not a great combo and I didn't want to rush this (this part also got WAY longer than I thought it would), plus I've made some minor edits to part 1 since I wasn't totally happy with it - been a hot minute since I wrote smut so I hope this is ok :D thank you all for being so patient and I hope you enjoy!!)

(link for part 1 - warning for NSFW content below, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it))

ghivashel - treasure of all treasures, amralime - my love

An Unexpected Guest pt.2 (Thorin x AFAB!fem!human!reader)

The journey to Rivendell was taxing on all of you, though you couldn't help but feel most sorry for Bilbo. The hobbit was so new to adventuring - you doubted he had ever been out of the Shire before now - and you had decided to support him wherever you could as a helping hand. Just helping him set up camp, saddling his pony in the morning, offering him water, little gestures seemed to make a difference in his demeanor.

Spending time with the hobbit to keep his morale up, especially after the troll attack, did mean that it was getting harder to find a spare moment with Thorin. The two of you had spoken much more frequently since his confession, and you wished for more time, but the whole group was in poor spirits as it was. While they were all happy for you, public displays of affection were just likely to irritate everyone further. And Thorin's burden of leadership would likely not be eased while you were still on the road. For the moment, all you could do was keep moving and offer comfort to whoever needed it.

Needless to say, arriving at Rivendell was a weight off your shoulders. Even if the dwarves tried to pick a fight with Elrond.

You had all taken your time to settle in and relax, having taken full advantage of the elves' hospitality (and you were forever grateful for being able to feel clean after the long journey). When the group of you were provided with dinner and the inevitable food fight broke out, you were happy to see how everyone's spirits had been lifted. However, you couldn't help but notice your One stood to the side. There was a content smile on his face, but you could easily see the tension that still bristled through him.

You soon found him after everybody had retreated to their rooms for the night. It was hard not to hear him - the pacing in his room seemed to echo through the hallway, if only slightly. Raising your hand, you softly knocked at the door, hoping that he wouldn't be too stubborn to talk to you.

"Come in."

Even his tone of voice betrayed his stress. He visibly relaxed when you entered the room though, shutting the door behind you, and you felt glad to at least be some comfort.

You smiled in greeting, and spoke softly. "Will you tell me what's going on with you?"

"I assure you, I am fine. Do not trouble yourself."

You closed the distance between you hesitantly, giving him the chance to back away, and took his hands. "Please, Thorin. I can see something is troubling you."

"I am just... concerned. About the future of this quest, about everyone's safety." You saw a struggle in his mind of not wanting to be vulnerable, but he seemed to give in, and sighed in defeat. "I fear that people are going to be hurt because of me."

"Oh, my love..." you breathed, pressing your forehead to his. "You are the best leader any of us could ask for, and I promise you that you will not be the cause of any hurt."

He gently pulled back and looked into your eyes. "You truly believe that?"

"Of course I do. Those in this company are strong and intelligent. Perhaps with the exception of your nephews," you chuckled, and Thorin couldn't help but smile. "They are all capable of making their own decisions. They knew the risks of coming along, but they have all chosen to join anyway because they saw a courageous dwarf that they wanted to follow."

"I only want to do right by my people."

"And you will. We all have faith in you."

He pressed his forehead to yours again. "You're far too good to me, ghivashel," he murmured.

"All I want is for you to be happy, my love."

And with that, you tilted your head up and kissed him, your fingers tracing his cheekbones as you pulled him closer. It wasn't rushed and clumsy, as it was when Thorin first confessed, but slow and loving, every movement of your lips against his a confession of love in itself. His hands found their way to your waist and pulled you flush against him, trying to feel as much of you as possible.

When you separated to take a breath, meeting his lust-filled gaze was all the encouragement you needed.

"I wonder if there's any way I could relieve some of your stress..." Your tone was playful as you slid your hands achingly slowly down Thorin's chest, and you heard him inhale as you stopped just at his hips.

"Amralime, are you sure? If we start I will not want to hold back."

"I trust you, Thorin." You smiled and nodded towards the double bed. "And we may as well take advantage of the luxury while we have it."

He smirked. "I'm beginning to think you came here just to bed me."

"Hey, I would never-"

Your sarcastic reply was cut off by him kissing you again, with a desperation you hadn't seen from him before. Maybe you had awakened something long kept under control, but any coherent thought of that was soon lost when he shrugged the furs off his shoulders and his fingers found the hem of your shirt.

Soon becoming restless feeling him trace the curves of your waist, you broke away from the kiss just long enough to tug your shirt off. Thorin did the same, and after some hurried fumbling between more stolen kisses, you were both undressed. His hands never left your body as he backed you up towards the bed.

"You are so beautiful, ghivashel..." he murmured, lips trailing along your jawline and down your neck. It was so easy to get lost in the sensation, but when he tried to sit you down on the bed, you stopped him.

"Tonight is about you, my love." You turned the two of you around and gently pushed him back to sit down, taking the time to admire his toned body as you knelt in front of him.

Thorin's eyes were wide with surprise and he almost looked as if he wanted to protest, but the twitch of his already hard cock gave him away.

"You... you don't have to-"

"I want to." His breath hitched when your lips traced his thigh, and you smiled. "Relax, my king..."

Any further protest was soon lost when you leaned forward and licked a long stripe up his length, wrenching a gasp from his lips. Your movements were slow, mapping out every inch of him with kitten licks until he was writhing impatiently before you, until you were done teasing and sucked his tip into your mouth.

The room was filled with the sounds of breathy groans and muttered Khuzdul that you could barely focus on as you continued. Thorin twisted his fingers into your hair when you began taking him inch by inch into your mouth - his grip was firm, but never controlling - and when you started bobbing your head he was certain that he must've been dreaming.

Looking up at him and pressing your thighs together to suppress your own arousal, you watched his head tilt back in ecstasy every time you pressed your tongue flat against his tip when you rose. The sounds he made were so beautiful that it was becoming more and more difficult to control yourself. Fortunately, it seemed you wouldn't need to for much longer. You felt the tension in his body increase with every bob of your head, every swipe of your tongue, and as your movements grew faster you wrapped your hand around the base to stroke what you couldn't fit in your mouth. Yet, when you next looked up at him, he gently pushed you away, denying himself climax.

"Is everything alright, my love?"

He leant down for a brief kiss, still breathing heavily, and nodded. "That was... incredible." He took your hands and guided you to stand, then pulled you closer to straddle his lap.

"Then-" You inhaled sharply feeling his lips and teeth over your throat. "Then why didn't you let me finish?"

Thorin didn't answer for a moment, too busy creating a cluster of pink marks along your neck. When he was satisfied with his work, he tugged your hips down to press his hard length against you.

"Because I want to finish inside you, amralime."

You simply nodded, feeling too flustered and on edge to offer any sort of response beyond a whispered, "Please..."

Thorin stood up holding you, his lips continuing their assault on your neck, and carefully laid you down in the center of the bed. He slotted himself between your legs and wasted no time in moving to prepare you. Pausing to receive a nod of consent, he slid one thick finger into you, and you gasped at the sudden feeling. He soon added a second when you began rocking your hips against his hand impatiently, begging for more.

"Patience," he chuckled. "I do not want to hurt you."

"I don't care." You moaned breathlessly with every curl of his fingers. It felt like so much already, but still not enough. "I need you now, Thorin."

"Who would I be to deny my queen?"

He withdrew his fingers and you immediately pulled him forward to kiss you, a soft gasp being pulled from you when he ground his hips against you, ever so lightly pressing against your clit. Holding himself up over you with one hand, he used the other to guide his tip to your entrance and, swallowing your cries in the kiss, he slowly pushed into you.

His hand found yours and your fingers intertwined while he waited for any signs of your discomfort to fade. It was an uncomfortable stretch to fit his thick cock, but it soon became a welcome sensation, and you wrapped your legs around his waist to urge him on.

He moved carefully at first, until your cries of pain became cries of pleasure, and soon his hips snapped back against you much more firmly. Each thrust hit so deep inside of you, filling you up so perfectly, and his fingers gripped your hips almost tight enough to bruise. You clutched onto him tightly, trying to stay grounded amongst the sensations. One hand was buried in his hair, keeping his forehead pressed against yours, the other was digging into his back, leaving scratches that you were sure would last a few days at least. Though it didn't seem to bother him - every time you dug your nails into his back, it seemed to be encouragement, and he relentlessly kept up his pace. It was firm and deep, but never rough, though part of you wondered how hard he would go if you asked.

With each thrust, you bucked your hips to meet him, trying to get more friction to ignite the coil of heat growing in your core. Thorin's moans soon grew louder, despite him trying to remain as quiet as he could, and when his rhythm grew unsteady his fingers slipped down to circle your clit as his teeth latched onto your neck again.

"Ghivashel..." he murmured, his voice strained. "I'm so close..."

Your mind was spinning with pleasure, and you felt yourself reaching your peak as well. "I am too..." you panted.

His hips shifted just enough to hit a spot inside you to make you see stars, and along with the attention on your clit and your neck, it was enough to push you over the edge. Your grip on him tightened as the coil snapped and heat spread through your body, and you buried your face into the crook of his neck to muffle your cry of pleasure.

It seemed to last forever, and in your pleasure-filled haziness you registered Thorin also growing tense, and you heard his deep groan as he reached his climax and came inside of you. He felt so perfect, and you both stayed clinging onto each other, lost for breath, until you both came to.

Still catching his breath, he kissed your forehead and pulled out to lie next to you, and you couldn't help but whimper at the sudden emptiness.

He lay on his side, facing you, and brought your hand up to his lips. "You are so wonderful, amralime."

You smiled softly and shuffled closer, putting an arm over his waist and tucking your head under his. "So are you, my king."

You glanced back at the door to the room and chuckled.

"What is it?"

"Maybe we should lock the door next time."

#the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit smut #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x y/n #the hobbit imagine #thorin x reader #thorin x you #thorin x y/n #thorin imagine #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield imagine #thorin smut #thorin x reader smut #thorin x reader lemon

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suzukiblu · 1 month

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WIP WEDNESDAY GAME

Slimmed-down post/rules, but originally taken from @kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday! This week's theme is "incredibly intentional and deliberate baby acquisition" (aka, "gIVE ME BABY"). With perhaps a slightly loose definition of "baby", hahaha.

( I had so, so many options that fit this theme to pick between, lol. )

Here’s how it works:

I will post the filenames of five WIPs, and will also post a snippet of new content from one of them to get the ball rolling.

Send me an ask with the name of one of the listed WIPs and I will write you a minimum of three sentences in that WIP in response!

Multiple requests are fine, but I’d prefer if you sent them in separate asks. Just a little easier for me to fill them that way.

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

WIP names:

Clark wakes up alive

congratulations, it's a metaweapon!

the Last Son of Krypton meets Hypertime Kon

YJ accidental baby acquisition

Clark panic-adopts his teenage clones

snippet from “Clark wakes up alive”:

The pod is empty, Clark can already see through the walls. But he can hear a familiar heartbeat, though it sounds a little . . . different, now.

It’s been so, so long since he’s heard it, but even if he didn’t have the eidetic memory, he never could’ve forgotten it. That's Conner's heartbeat.

His brother's heartbeat.

But it's different, too.

And the empty pod isn't the only thing he can see through the walls.

“What’s the damn alarm about?” Desmond says irritably, not looking up from his work. Dubbilex doesn’t respond; Guardian shakes his head.

“Security systems are reporting a breach, sir,” he says. “Multiple doors are broken, but no one’s been spotted on the cameras. And the readings say they all broke within . . . point five seconds of each other?”

Conner doesn’t say anything either. He just sits very, very still between them, his heartbeat thrumming with a quiet, restless anxiety.

“Then lock the place down already!” Desmond snaps as he picks up a thin metal instrument with a sharp tip. Conner's heartbeat picks up.

“That will not be necessary,” Dubbilex informs them both, bland and neutral. “Superman has already let himself in.”

“What?” Guardian says, sounding startled.

“What?!” Desmond demands.

Conner’s heartbeat stutters, and Clark can’t be anywhere but in that room.

So he is, before Conner’s stuttered heartbeat has even settled, and then he’s looking at Desmond and far too many needles and medical instruments and Guardian who’s half-turning and Dubbilex who’s already facing his way and a few scattered G-nomes and G-trolls in assorted places here and there around the room and . . . Conner.

But not Conner as Clark’s used to seeing him.

Was used to seeing him, anyway.

Desmond curses, and Guardian jerks in shock. Dubbilex looks unaffected.

And the child sitting on the exam table in the center of the room stares up at Clark the exact same way a teenager once did: like he’s seeing the moon and sun and everything he thinks he’s supposed to be for the first time. Like he’s seeing something he’s waited and wanted to be.

Hoped to be, maybe.

And Clark . . .

Clark handles it differently this time, just like he’s always wished he could've.

“Hello,” he says kindly as he steps forward and ignores everyone else in the room to drop down into a crouch in front of the exam table and smile at Conner, who keeps staring at him mutely. “It’s nice to meet you."

#wip wednesday #meme #wip: clark wakes up alive #long post

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maybeitsalivescribbles · 5 months

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VH - The Kneeling Stuff

Supervillain smiled when Hero was brought before him, his hands tied behind his back. That wasn’t necessary, of course. The small, thin frame of his foe was already surrounded by two of his biggest guards. There was no way of escape. On his iron throne, he slightly shifted his position and only said:

“Kneel.”

He expected – perhaps even hoped – protestations and words of defiance. There was none. Hero obeyed, his eyes fixed on him. Seeing that he was doing it without reluctance, the guards took their places back from each side of the throne. Three pairs of eyes stared at the captive. There wasn’t an ounce of fear or anger in his expression. As far as Supervillain could judge, there was nothing but polite curiosity, and maybe a bit of confusion.

“I don’t get it”, the prisoner said after a while.

“What are you talking about ?”

“The kneeling stuff. I mean, I love to sit after I’ve been beaten up, thank you, but I don’t see what the big deal is. You said it like it was big deal. Is that some kind of trap ?”

“Wh-”

“I mean, I can sit in many ways. I can even be cross-legged if you enjoy it that much.”

Supervillain shrugged to hide his own perplexity.

“Is that the right time to be insolent, according to you ?”

Embarrassed, Hero fidgeted a little despite his bound hands and gave him a pleading look.

“I swear I’m not trying to. I just feel like I’m missing something. I’m new at this business, you know.”

Supervillain pinched the bridge of his nose:

“Honestly, the things you have to teach. Kneeling means you recognize your defeat and you’re offering yourself to me.”

“Offering myself ? Like a date ?”

“No, not like a date !” squeaked the villain. “Who says things like - ? Like – like a prisoner ! Or a slave, if you like. That means you’re inferior to me.”

“Because you’re higher than me ?”

“Exactly ! Finally.”

“Nope, still don’t get it.”

Hero looked at the guards by his side:

“They stand up, and they’re tall ladies. They’re way higher than you. By that logic, that should mean they’re your boss, then.”

“No ! They – they’re doing my work ! Look, making your foes kneel is traditional. It’s nice. I like it. Can we leave it at that ?”

“But the thing is, I don’t feel inferior. It’s literally the way I sit at home. So, I don’t understand why it’s so much more humiliating than sitting on a throne that looks incredibly uncomfortable.”

Aggravated, Supervillain jumped on his feet. His fingers ensnared Hero’s chin as he growled:

“Don’t worry, I can do so much worse. The torture I’m going to put you through won’t give you any doubt about that.”

“About kneeling ?”

“No – I mean yes I suppose among other things but -”

“I don’t think that will make me understand. I can suggest another way.”

Metal cracked. Hero shyly made his fingers glide over Supervillain’s wrist that still held his face:

“You should show me instead.”

Supervillain had only one second to realize that Hero’s hands were mysteriously free. His first impulse was to call his guards for help, but the two ladies didn’t seem to hear him. Staring at Hero, they didn’t move an inch. Hero smiled, revealing his long, sharp teeth:

“Kneel.”

The world shifted. Unable to resist this voice, Supervillain's legs buckled while Hero stood up, his pale face still calm and slightly curious:

“You know, maybe you were right on something. I don’t care about the position, but seeing someone squirm is nice every time. Now then.”

He tilted his head and shyly smiled at Supervillain’s livid face:

“Tell me, what’s your opinion on stepping on your foes ?”

Vampire Hero is now a recurring character. His job is to troll current villains. Check the Vampire Hero Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with him.

Or back to the Hero x Villain Masterlist.

#hero x villain #villain and hero #hero villain community #writeblr #writers on tumblr #original fiction #my writing #writing snippet #writing drabble #writing dialogue #vampire #sort of #sure #vampire hero #hero and villain #heroes and villains #just a quick one #anyway kneeling is better than chairs I will comfortably sit on that hill

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