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#space stone has no sense of personal space and will get touchy
emwheezie · 3 months
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Tag yourself as one of my characters!!
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Lennon:
Gremlin mode
Daddy issues
Bad hair
Musical/Creative genius. Perfect pitch
Ambitious
Doesn't shower
Ate a lasagna once
Doesn't know how to use his words
Fights drywall
Movie watcher
Chicken addiction
Street smart
Closeted Weezer fan
Dunkin Donuts
Shoes on the bed
Green Day
Might be silly
Goes up the stairs on all fours
Stressed/depressed/poorly dressed
PBC singer and lead guitar
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Tony:
Purple
Crazy driver
:3
Mall pretzels
Catholic school survivor
Emotionally smart/book smart
Stressed/depressed/dressed to impress
Afraid of getting old/ugly
Wants to fight the MBTA
Might be delusional
throws up from anxiety
Redbull and Taco Bell
Loves dogs
Green Day
Poetic
Saw Moses (biblical) in the woods while high with Theo
Lactose intolerant
Finds meaning in everything
Always in a relationship
PBC bassist and "manager"
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Enzo:
Evil
Might have killed a man
Man Bun
Posts on DeviantART
Loves dragons
whispers and shakes
Future tattoo artist
Movie connoisseur
Might be a furry...?
LOVES the Saw movie franchise
Protective and loyal
Street smart
Stays up all night in the dark
In an online relationship
Does what he wants
Doesn't waste time
Sparkling water enjoyer
Tea drinker
Never listened to a music in his life
Guitarist in a band (PBC)
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Theo:
From New Hampshire
Married
Asexual
Golden retriever personality 
Grew up with 8 siblings
Joined the military after High School
Eats Oatmeal?
Doesn't wear a seatbelt
Outdoorsy/hiking adventures
Works at a club/bar with his wife, Gia
Is a cinnamon roll
Emotionally smart
Saw Moses (biblical) in the woods while high with Tony
Calls music his "funky jams"
Forgets his shoes
Mtn Dew
Forgetful
Kidney Stones
His appendix exploded once
PBC drummer
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Park:
Loves alcohol
Hates the government
Hates the IRS
Has never paid taxes
No sense of personal space/very touchy
LOUD
Climbs things
Grilled cheese enthusiast  
Dunkin Donuts manager
Aliens are 4 realz
loves video games
Wicked smart
Goes to MIT for like space engineering or something idk
Makes monkey noises
"I have to be both the sexiest and most mentally challenged person in the room at all times"
Obsessed with skin walkers
Conspiracy theories
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Oli:
Photography/cinematography 
Graphic design
Urban Explorer
Abandoned things
Summer time vibes
Lives in sleeveless shirts
Black coffee drinker
health freak/gym rat
Smokes cigarettes (hey we all have our vices)
Secretly gay
Does graffiti 
Runs from his problems
Travels for work
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Alyssa:
Preforms unethical experiments in the sims 3
Loves cows
So many many plushies there's no room for her in the bed
weezer fan
Talks a lot
Lots of keychains/charms
Maximalism!
Assertive
Good listener
Workaholic 
HAS to be the BEST at anything she does
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Rosie
Grew up with strict parents
Working too many hours at Dunkin Donuts
Former ballet/dancer
Likes to bake and really good at it!
Compulsive liar
"I have a twin sister who goes to another school"
Gets jealous easily
Body image problems/eating disorders :(
Emotionally Immature 
Spider eyelashes
A nose ring is "rebelling from my parents"
Currently in college
Afraid of change
Emotional support eldest daughter
Loves to sing
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worstloki · 3 years
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If the mind stone really did have some partial control or influence over Loki's actions in the first Avengers movie, it's because the mind stone was trying to get close to Loki, that's all :/
mind stone's love language is getting in your head
and if it had more than partial malicious control then i'm accusing the chitauri sceptre for trapping and twisting it to the whims of its users
#mind stone is a telepath with no sense of privacy#space stone has no sense of personal space and will get touchy#soul stone can read your desires/love and sees nothing wrong about sharing that info#time has seen you die over and over in possible scenarios that did not and will not occur (and sometimes forgets that part)#power uncannily knows potential strength you're capable of at any moment and has no regard for consequences associated with#reality knows small details which isn't too odd until you're left wondering if they're like that because they felt inclined#spending too much time with any one of them takes something from everyone#im just saying if i didn't consider loki an exception and prefer him being safe from this bc they care for him................yeah#i can see them turning their abilities on him on purpose if it's for his own wellbeing#which would of course be a betrayal#and if that's with loki why not go the entire way#treat the stones as a poison that go too far in what they see as protection and love and care#consent doesn't mean much if you're transparent#quite literally so#what starts off as a sweet relationship can always get worse#there's no out when a power imbalance that hard goes sideways#who would trust loki's word over... anyone? let alone the kind entities that are large fundamental parts of the universe#if they say he's fine he's fine#assuming he's a chaos entity and as strong as one or even two of them... that's six against one#even if he can shield himself from the ambient abilities of half of them what happens when they put effort into it#:)#infinoki#i've been thinking about dark!infinitystones recently and there is a LOT of potential okay especially with loki#whether they're fueled by selfish wants or out of care i just. really like the idea of the stones at the end of the day being dangerous#whether it's in an addictive way or based entirely off loki's own damaged state bc you really can read Ragnarok loki as SO messed up#he's really just thrown from one abusive dynamic to another and then at the end of the day he's back even after trying to break away#it's good he tries though that's the important part#still leaves room for inevitable failure of course but what's paprikash without a pinch of paprika#right?#y'all need to be more grateful i am benevolent and lean into light hearted crack because my humour really does border on dark ya know :/
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bokettochild · 3 years
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Hey! Those are my three favorite Links too lol. Got any head canons for them?
No way, really? That's awesome!
And yes I do!
(Kinda long, so it's beneath the cut)
- These three, coincidentally, have the longest hair out of all of the Links. I know that JoJo draws Legend with a close cut, but all the official art has him with hair that falls past his shoulders, and I love it to much to accept anything else (I still love how JoJo draws him tho!)
- Walking fashion disasters, all of them. They like it though and no one can really stop them (they like that even more).
- On a scale of gremlin-ness, Wild ranks as a nine (he's not always trouble, but a lot of the time), Legend just behind him as a 7 (he just covers up well) and Four is so chaotic that they're on four different places of the chaos scale all at the same time!
- Legend and Four both are super close to Sky after some time, although Legend is more the 'needs to be toned down and asked to behave' while Four and Sky are more of the chill bros kinda thing. As a result, they're have a bit more of a sibling dynamic in that 'we're both close to the same person but we clash as much as we get along, but we're also stuck together' kind of way. Sky mentoring these two melts my heart :)
- Four is, of course, four people in a trench coat, and while Legend isn't, he does have the ability to split into multiple people as well, thank to adventure 6 in Hytopia. They have definitely bonded over this weird experience, and I know because I'm writing a snit-fic about it!
- Fire children, all three of them. Four tries to act somewhat responsible, but Red is a fire gremlin and there's really nothing the other colors can do to control him. Once the flame-based weapons come out there is no stopping them.
- Wild and Vio are both amazing archers, and if/when Four splits they will happily exchange tips.
- All three of these boys are crazy curious. Legend and Wild are both item's collectors and Four has Vio living in their head, so if the Chain finds something new, rest assured that these three will be the squad to try and figure it out together.
(Getting new tech or items is like Halloween for these boys, and they'll happily toss stuff back and forth like the trio of nerds they are, taking notes and trying stuff with it).
- Because they share interests, they are also highly touchy about when the others can join them in stuff. Wild's the most likely to let others join him in stuff, Legend can be touchy, but he will eventually cave if he's not too set on having his space. There is no bending Four's will.
- Legend is (of course) Fable's brother. But, while she got Hylia's powers and stuff, Legend got the musical talent. Fable can't sing for shit, and her fingers are as likely to get tangled in her harp strings as they are to break them.
- Four is the most firm out of the three, and the most stubborn. He's often the voice of reason (he does have a playful side though).
- Four likes teaching Legend smithy things. Since Legend never finished his apprenticeship, he's only got so much knowledge, and after the "when will you learn" incident, Four determined that he'd knock some sense into the vet's pink head.
- Both Four and Legend have at some point ended up in their alternate forms, and Wild was chill as could be. He thinks its cool, but he respects their boundaries and tries his hardest not to call them cute to their faces (he can't stop himself from thinking it though).
- Other than Wind, who could probably beat them all, they are the lightest footed Links, and each are skilled dancers. Four's batter at folk stuff, Legend at performance, and Wild at ballroom and barn dance related stuff, but once Twi pulls out a fiddle they're all quickly swept up into dancing because none of them can resist. They're all good dancing partners too, and with Wind at their side, they've managed to work out some stuff they can all dance to together.
- The least judgmental about shadows. Unlike the others, Wild has never met his shadow, and while Legend has, it was kinda brief and not particularly traumatic (shadow Four on the other hand still haunts his dreams) and of course we all know that Shadow and Four are besties 🥰
- On that note, Legend is highly protective of the other two. Wild because he's still so young at heart, and Four because the last thing legend wants is to see Four corrupted. He remembers the Palace of the Four Sword vividly, and he doesn't want a repeat. (It absolutely breaks his heart that he knows Four doesn't get a happy ending).
- Wild plays accordion and while his voice is untrained, he's got a decent set of pipes!
- Four play Ocarina, not as well as time, but it's still very beautiful.
- Legend has flat feet
- Barefoot trio. Flat feet are a nightmare in shoes, and Legend was a farm-boy, he'll shuck off his shoes the instant he can and just enjoy the grass or stone beneath his feet. Wild does the same for the very simple reason of being a feral gremlin who is very happy to lose his clothes and go wild. Four's feet are kinda odd shaped after transforming into a Minish so many times, so he also likes shedding his shoes (he had to make a special pain that would actually fit his weird lil feet) and just enjoying nature.
- Four and Wild are rediculously in tune with nature, Four because of his connection to the elements and Wild because he's Wild. Legend isn't closely connected, but he's got his own sort of love for different weathers and seasons after his 2'd adventure.
- The most colorful out of everyone, they are also the most artistic Legend paints and embroiders, and Four is good at sculpting, carving and, of course, metal work. Wild really likes to draw and his food itself looks like a picture (his frosted cakes are to die for, no one knows how he makes frosting do that)
- More of a niche headcannon related to a fic of mine, but; Wild has vitiligo. Most of it is hidden what with his heavy scarring and clothes, but while he's naturally pretty tan, he's got some big ol' white spots underneath his clothes and along his arms.
I will hold off on any more, I have a speech I need to rehearse and I got way too carried away with this 😅
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koutarouthighs · 3 years
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『 champagne bubbles 』
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S U M M A R Y ― drunken words expose sober thoughts, and what do these boys have to say when their heart is too soaked in liquor to dull their filter?
post type ➺ headcanons fandom  ➺ haikyuu!! characters  ➺ tsukishima ⧾ kageyama ⧾ atsumu  genre ➺ fluff; slight nsfw (sensual themes) tags ➺ established relationship; alcohol; language; pda; lotsa touchy drunk boys;  word count ➺ 2.2k+ request ➺ [YES/NO] ; anonymous requested “could you maybe write drunk!tsukki being really sweet to his gf? like calling her pretty and being super sweet?”     ↳ request status: *.·:·.✧ O P E N ✧.·:·.*
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✕ tsukki doesn’t really like to get drunk, because he’s more of a spectator. he enjoys watching everyone else lose their wits so he can poke fun at them for it, sarcastically asking them a dozen questions just to video their answers to bring it up when they’re sober.  ✕ but, with kuroo betting tsukki that he can drink him under the table, his obstinate personality has no option other than to meet his old friend’s challenge. what he doesn’t know is that kuroo never planned to win, not even from the start.   ✕ when you see tsukki later, you’re confused with his wobbling frame and garbled words. his eyes seem to cross behind his glasses, and when he approaches you, he’s got his arm around your shoulders in a flash. you’ve never seen him be so publicly affectionate, especially not in front of a group full of his old friends who knew him once as an antagonistic rival. ✕ tsukishima compliments your appearance, your voice, your dress. he talks about how lucky he is to have you and you swear you see his reddened eyes begin to blear with tears.  ✕ his hands cannot find a part of you he does not wish to explore further, always seeking but never finding solace. and finally he cups your cheeks and sloppily kisses your mouth, and you are so frozen in your stead that you do not have half a mind to kiss him back. 
more below the cut ↯
“you’re just so pretty,” his voice drawls, eyes blinking slowly as he uses the arm not slung around your body to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. the slightest of pouts tugs on his lips and you want to push yourself up on your toes to kiss him, but you know how he feels about public affection.
a small laugh makes your chest blossom and tsukishima tugs you closer, your body engulfed by his lanky yet thick arms. his bicep flexes as he runs his index and thumb against either side of your neck, “you are! i know i don’t tell you enough, but you are. you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.”
“kei,” you murmur as he drops his head to your shoulder, planting a quick kiss to your exposed collarbone. kuroo and akaashi widen their eyes at the sight, and you try to weave your fingers through tsukishima’s hair to get his attention, “kei, are you drunk?”
“yep!” kuroo’s voice is unmistakable, even from where he and akaashi, and now bokuto, are sitting in the kitchen, swiveling in their barstool seats, giggling to themselves. you narrow your eyes and hope that the glare you cut them is enough to not let them sucker him into anything like this again, knowing how much he will hate finding out about this when he’s sober. 
“we can go home,” you murmur in promise against his neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek before settling back on your heels. tsukishima kisses the top of your head and wraps you back up again, tucking your head beneath his chin. he sighs, and you feel his chest deflate, “no, i like going out with you. i know i say i hate it, but i like that you want the world to know that you’re mine.”
you tilt your head back, raising a brow, “tsukki, i’m not ashamed of you. never have been.” 
“no, i know,” he almost sounds stone cold sober for a second, and you blink to try and make sure you can reconcile what you’re hearing with what you’re seeing. “i just hope you know that i’m not ashamed of you. you’re kickass, and i can’t believe you let me call you mine.”
“of course,” and you feel your own voice growing heady without the influence of whiskey, “i love you.”
tsukishima, drunk or not, reaches down to frame your face with his hands and as if in slow motion, purses his mouth until you feel the bow of his lips meet your own. you flex your feet so you’re up on your toes, face heated at the sudden display of affection, disregard to who might see. his palms are expansive and warm, floating from your neck to your shoulders, down your arms until he finds the curve of your hips. his thumbs slip beneath the hem of your shirt and he sighs, parting his mouth from yours, “tell sober me to appreciate you more. he’s kind of an asshole.”
“yeah,” you lick your lips and read the hunger in his eyes, matching it with a fire in your own, “i’ll make sure to tell him in the morning.”
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✕ kageyama believes that alcohol dulls the senses and takes his mind off of what is truly important - the next match. so, it’s kind of difficult to get him to indulge in a drink from time to time. but hinata always manages to spur him on, citing his days in brazil have made him the better consumer, and kageyama just can’t let that redhead best him at anything. ✕ you wish you had the effort to try and deter him from it, but watching kageyama turn loose and enjoy his time with his friends is so elating in it of itself that you don’t have the heart to try and drag him to a glass of water.  ✕ your face goes red when kageyama puts down his fourth glass of rum and coke and turns his attention to you. eyes sheathed by half-hooded lids, lower lip consumed in the cage of his canine tooth as he sucks the slow drip of whatever drink did not make it to his tongue. ✕ the praise he dotes on you when he slots himself into the couch next to you is not unwelcome, and yet foreign and uncomfortable all the same. tobio is not unknown to shower you in kindness when you are alone, and when he can gather his words and his spirits, but now, in front of his friends and rivals from high school, it all feels a little out of place. ✕ his hand rests curiously high on your thigh, the other arm around your back to hold you close. he kisses your cheek and then your neck, warm breath smelling of the sweet concoction he’s downed one too many of in your absence.
“tobi,” you whimper when his thumb drifts against the seam of your jeans, manicured nails digging into the plush of your thigh, “a-are you drunk?”
“so what if i am?” his curt response is quick, just like always. you suppose even when drunk, he’s not completely unlike himself. your gaze meets his darkened irises, pupils dilating as he tries to focus on any one feature of your face. his tone softens as he looks at you a little while longer, “god, you’re beautiful.”
your expression must show how taken aback you are, because tobio’s nose scrunches and he looks like he’s eaten something sour, “have i never told you that before?”
“n-no, you have,” you shake your head to bring your wits about you, “it’s just weird to hear it in front of all your friends.”
kageyama shakes his head and straightens his spine, palm falling down to your shoulders to massage at the blade of your back, “well, it’s the truth. in front of my friends or at home. y-you’re pretty.”
you can’t help but laugh at his wavering voice, another wave of drunkenness bringing out a shy side of him that you’re used to seeing from time to time. you lean across the space between your bodies and press a kiss to his cheek, “you’re adorable, tobi. especially when you’re drunk.”
“d-do you need anything?” he asks, the palm on your thigh finding your hand to squeeze your knuckles between his own, “water? another drink?”
you nod, brushing dark hair back from his face to his ear so you can see his sapphire irises in full, “i could use some water, if you’re getting up. but you don’t have to get me anything, babe.”
tobio is standing to his feet as soon as you finish your sentence, eyes wide and hands still clutching at you, despite the distance, “of course!” and he is gone before you have another moment to draw him back in. biting your lip, you watch as he scrambles about the kitchen, but your attention is drawn away by the other girls sitting on the couch opposite of you. 
when kageyama returns, his arms are full, and his mouth is moving as if it were attached to a motor, “i got you two bottles of water and they had a can of that seltzer you like in the fridge so i got that too, and then i know where hinata hides the chocolate so i grabbed you a few pieces and then there’s also an apple in case you get hungry.”
you want to laugh, you desperately want to let your giggles escape, but you tamper them down to take the various items teeming in tobio’s hands. you reach up to cup his cheek, “you really do think of everything, don’t you, kags?”
“for you,” his voice sounds faraway, ethereal, “i’d do anything for you.”
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✕ most nights after a long week of training, or a tournament with msby, atsumu spends time with bokuto and hinata and sakusa, and even osamu tags along, and they buy up tumugi, sake, and vodka until they can’t see themselves home. atsumu has the dd or a cab bring him home, and you can always tell by the way his steps stutter over the rug that he’s too far gone to even know you’re home. ✕ atsumu is a clumsy, most of the time loud, drunk. he forgets how lumbering his body is, how much he weighs, and how his head might hit the overhanging light in the living room if he’s not too careful. ✕ as soon as he spots you, curled up on the couch, his whole being softens. he licks his lips and calls your name, eyes shining when you finally make eye contact. he’ll call out for you again, asking for his girl. ✕ atsumu’s hands are insatiable as he fumbles over the top of you from where you lay, tucking his head into your neck and caging you in with his limbs. he likes the reminder of how big he is, how he can encompass your space with minimum effort. he seeks skin on skin contact while he can’t see straight, preferring to close his eyes and just feel you. ✕ he’ll mutter things into your soft skin and slip his hands underneath your shirt, but it’s nothing you haven’t heard already, only accented with giggles and blown raspberries along your body.   
“don’t you have a game tomorrow?”
“so what?!” he nips at your jaw, “what are you, my mother?!”
“that would make this a very strange position, wouldn’t it?” you snort, scratching your nails up the base of his back to his shoulders, his shirt riding up inch by inch. atsumu groans, dropping his head to your chest, circling his arms around your waist until he’s clinging onto you for dear life. he sighs and you try your hardest not to shiver at the feel of his warm breath over your bare skin.
he grunts, shifting his legs to get more comfortable, “osamu bet he could do three shots faster than me, and you know i’m the better twin, and i had to prove it, so i did it. and... and now’m here.”
another laugh makes its way out of your throat and you squeeze his shoulders, “that competition is going to get you in trouble one day. you can’t win everything.”
“i don’t gotta win everything,” atsumu licks his lips and takes a breath, craning his neck so he can look you in the eyes, “i already got you, don’t i?” you’re blushing but that doesn’t stop him, not when he’s on a drunken roll like this, “i mean, that’s about the best thing i ever coulda won.”
you twirl a finger in his hair to keep your hands busy, rolling your lips together as he rambles. atsumu pushes himself up further on your body so you’re eye-to-eye, the tip of his nose brushing up your cheek as he gets situated, “cause even when i lose a match, i still get to come home to you.”
the threatening heat of tears makes your eyes throb and you close them to get some relief. atsumu kisses both of your eyelids and then your nose, and your face scrunches at the overwhelming smell of vodka on his lips, but you don’t care, not when he’s being so kind and genuine. he cups your face with a palm, heady and calloused, and then kisses your cheek until your skin relaxes. he chuckles, “i mean it, sweetheart.”
“i know you do, ‘sumu,” your voice is thick and you clear your throat just after you speak. you finally peek your eyes open to look at him, and you almost wished you hadn’t. his umber irises melt into dark pupils, a warmth there that you cannot place, cannot describe. his skin is rosy, kissed by alcohol and emotion, and you just want to drown in him.
he noses your cheek and then captures your lips, soft kisses volleyed back and forth between the two of you as your hands roam and find supple skin and dense bone. lines blur between evening and morning, and words slur between the both of you.
and every time, as one breath ends and another begins, atsumu makes sure to show you that his words ring true, and his greatest win was always you.
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ruewrites · 3 years
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Wait asks being open means requests are open right??? If yes OH MY GOD IVE BEEN PRAYING FOR THIS DAY SINCE AGES
Could you pls pls pls pls do a dialuci fic except it's a royal au? Like dia and Luci are set to get married but Luci didn't want to until he saw Dia?? I know this isn't your primary ship but it would mean the WORLD to me (*˘︶˘*).。*♡
Meeting His Prince
AO3
Ship: Diavolo/Lucifer
Word Count: 2008
Warnings: None
A/N: Hi Anon! First of all, thank you. When I finished up WBT, I was thinking about writing a royalty au, and this request acutally made me plot it out. I guess this will be a psuedo prequel to it? But I want Dialuci to be a ship in it. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!
Lucifer had his clothing pressed and his crown polished. A crowned prince had to make a good impression being the shining jewel of the growing empire of Arcadia. Yet it wasn’t his clothing that worried his father. It was Lucifer’s expression.
To say he was happy was far from correct. Lucifer never gave much thought to marriage. Honestly, he’d be happy ruling Arcadia without anyone by his side. He’d spent much of his time caring for his siblings and learning how to rule over the kingdom, so an heir wasn’t an idea he was fond of. It was something he knew had been expected of him as well. Producing a strong line of future kings and queens to lead Arcadia had been in the stars for him according to his father. 
Perhaps he had read the stars wrong.
The memory of Father bursting through the palace doors uttering curses under his breath. Apparently the prince had been rather persistent with his demands. His father wanted to make an alliance with this kingdom horribly so. Apparently the prince was rather effective in the way he ruled and was a skilled strategist. He would be a powerful addition to Arcadia, but he was stubborn once he’d made his decision. Strategist indeed if he could get the King of Arcadia to give into his demands. The anger in the king’s eyes when he told Lucifer that he had been chosen burned Lucifer’s very soul.
Lucifer knew where this anger was coming from, not that he cared all that much. He’d never really given too much thought to what his paternal figure wanted from him. Why start now?
His siblings had all had varying reactions: sighing about the ‘romance’ of the situation, poking fun at him, and in some cases offering sympathy. He just wanted to stay neutral about it. The end goal for him was to be a worthy future king of Arcadia, this was just a stepping stone he had to take to get there. Other issues surrounding this engagement could be figured out with time. He had time. He just needed to stay level headed. 
He hadn’t noticed the clock ticking down to his wedding day, he hadn’t even realized that he’d never met his fiance despite the flood of letters that were sent his way once a month.  It seemed odd. Lucifer wasn’t really sure how to react to the attention and aggressive affection. The entire situation felt more like a relationship with a paramour rather than an arranged marriage for the good of their kingdoms. For now, it was best to push it to the back of his mind and deal with it when the time came. There wasn’t any point in fighting anything lest he cause conflict that would certainly affect more people than just him. 
Ah the life of being a royal.
Lovely wasn’t it? 
The day of the foreign prince’s arrival, Lucifer spent hours pacing around the palace overlooking every tiny detail. Of course he could change his mind at any moment and Lucifer couldn’t have that happen. This was for the good of Arcadia. He glanced over the arrangement of food on the table one last time before letting out a sigh. 
Composure was key.
He was the pride of Arcadia.
Nothing could break him.
Nothing could throw him off guard.
Nothing-
“Lucifer!”
Lucifer didn’t even have time to process the situation. Strong arms wrapped around him, suffocating him in a tight embrace. He struggled, gasping for air and attempting to escape from the steel grip capturing him. When he did manage some distance, his hair was a mess and his clothes were disheveled. 
Golden eyes met his own, sparkling like gold coins reflecting the summer sun. 
“You’re even more beautiful in person,” the other prince’s voice came out as a whisper, as firm hands gently cupped his face, “You’re as radiant as an angel-”
He was a puppy. A giant puppy. 
“Oh how lucky I am to be married to such a gorgeous man.”
“We’re not married yet,“ Lucifer hoped he didn’t sputter as he pulled away.  This was hardly the professional meeting he’d been expecting. This was their first time meeting before their wedlock, and Lucifer had been thrown off balance.
He could do professional.
He couldn’t do whatever… whatever this was.
“Well, we’ll be married soon.”
“Your Highness-”
“Diavolo.”
Lucifer stopped in his tracks. All he could do was stare at those big shiny eyes. “Excuse me?”
“Please call me by my name. I’d like to hear how perfect it sounds on your tongue,” Diavolo repeated.
Heat rose into Lucifer’s face and he hoped it didn’t show. Quickly, he turned away and started walking towards one end of the table. “In any case, you’ve had a long trip. Why don’t-”
No sooner had Lucifer sat than Diavolo swooped in to scoot a chair closer to him. This man really didn’t have any sense of personal space did he? This was unfamiliar territory. Lucifer expected him to sit on the opposite end, allowing him to keep some distance between them. That’s how people were to stay. At a nice, respectable distance to be observed and to exchange pleasantries, but no closer. Diavolo was a stranger, yet he refused to act like one.
“I want to know everything about you,” Diavolo sounded as if he was marvelling at a being from another word. It was an unsettling feeling, “You’re favorite music, what you like to do in your free time, everything about you.”
Lucifer scooted away ever so slightly. Diavolo followed. 
“Why would you care about any of that?” 
This was business.
“Because we’re getting married.”
That didn’t mean he had to know anything about Lucifer.
But Diavolo had a nice laugh. It was booming and made Lucifer’s lips twitch upward ever so slightly. Everything about him was warm. Warmth Lucifer had never known before. 
He tried to touch his face once more, Lucifer turned away. It was instinct. Lucifer wasn’t accustomed to being touched. 
“You act like no one’s ever acted like this with you before!”
“That’s because no one has,” his eye glanced toward Diavolo, “My family isn’t exactly touchy.”
More specifically his father. He didn’t like touchiness, he thought it would make them weak. Therefore, physical affection wasn’t common when their father was around, especially not with Lucifer. He was their crown prince. He needed to be strong and rule without anything in his way. 
Diavolo’s demeanor changed, his shoulders fell, his eyes widened, and his mouth fell.
“Don’t apologize. It’s not anything worth pitying. It happened and there’s nothing that can be done to change it,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair, “It’s what he thought best for the future of Arcadia.”
You threw a wrench in his plans.
And for that, well, Lucifer couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied. After pushing him and his siblings to follow certain path all of their lives, it was nice to see something not go as planned for a change. Lucifer wouldn’t be having heirs, and that was fine by him.  Any interruption counted as a victory for him, no matter how small. 
“I am sorry,” Diavol’s voice was more even and calmer than it had been before, “For how I have been behaving though. It must have been startling to you. Please forgive me.”
Lucifer turned his head back towards him and quirked his eyebrow.
“My own father was very affectionate when I was young, I suppose I just miss it, and I’d like to share that with you, if you’ll allow me.”
Lucifer thought for a moment, allowing silence to permeate in the room. If asked, he’d say he did it to make Diavolo sweat, but in reality he was genuinely thinking it over. “I suppose, perhaps with time.”
The way he beamed made Lucifer’s heart skip a beat, “Then let’s get to dinner and start to know each other a little better, shall we?”
***
Enjoying the evening had not been on Lucifer’s list of things to do, but he wouldn’t complain.
“You like dogs? I could get you a dog as a wedding present.”
Lucifer laughed, “Father wouldn’t allow it. He’s not fond of animals.”
“Well he can’t stop me from getting a present that you would like. “
This man defying his father? Heavens help them. Perhaps Lucifer liked him a little more than he thought. It wasn’t something he was used to. He’d never had a relationship like this before. This was the first time he felt like he’d had a genuine conversation with someone outside of his family. For once, Lucifer felt a little relaxed. 
Diavolo was genuinely interested in what Lucifer liked. He wrote down how Lucifer took his tea, wanted to listen to all of his favorite songs with him, and what he liked to do in his free time. He wanted to play chess with him and spend time with him in any way he could.
It made Lucifer’s feel warm and his chest lurch. He loved the smile that found its way onto his face and how Diavolo’s voice surrounded him. Perhaps he’d found a new favorite song.
He felt like he’d known Diavolo for ages.
He made it easier for Lucifer to breathe.
“Diavolo-”
Diavolo froze. His eyes went wide again, “You said my name.”
Lucifer didn’t get a chance to move before he was being lifted off the ground and spun in the air. Diavolo’s booming laugh surrounded them. 
“Oh you said my name! And it was perfect! More than perfect!” he lowered Lucifer only to bring him into a kiss. Now it was Lucifer’s turn to freeze. His face quickly turned red as his eyes flew open. He stiffened, and tried to bring himself back. He’d never been kissed before. A crown prince had to be careful when it came to his image, and he’d had more important things to focus on than starting romances that would lead to nowhere. He’d always known he’d be married off to someone else, so he didn’t really see a point in seeking out others for romance.
Lucifer never thought about what it would be like to be kissed.
He wasn’t exactly sure about what to think now. 
When Diavolo pulled away the terror seemed to set it. “Oh I’m sorry! I- I went too far-” 
As he mumbled, Lucifer felt himself come back. It was when he realized how nervous the other prince was.  He was energetic and was the opposite of Lucifer himself. Instead of going silent like Lucifer did, Diavolo seemed to ramble even more. With a chuckle and the shake of his head, Lucifer put his finger tips under Diavolo’s chin and brought his focus back to him. 
Lucifer wasn’t one to be won over so easily, but there was something about this man that made him think their union wouldn’t be a bad one. Perhaps he could make his life a little more interesting. 
If he could force his father into doing something that he didn’t want to do, like agreeing to the condition of Diavolo getting to marry his crown prince, Lucifer figured he would like him.
“I will have to kiss my husband eventually, you’re an awfully excitable man Diavolo. I think I quite enjoy that about you,” he smiled, before placing a gentler kiss onto his lips. 
If Diavolo wanted to play the role of adoring husband Lucifer wouldn’t stop him. Maybe marriage wouldn’t be as bad as he thought. Perhaps he could rule Arcadia with another person effectively after all.
When they pulled away, Lucifer caressed his face, “I think I could see myself participating in acts of affection in private.”
He and Diavolo walked a little closer on the rest of their stroll, and he found himself leaning into his shoulder every now and again. 
Perhaps he could get used to this.
Perhaps he would lead Arcadia into a new age, and be an even better ruler with Diavolo at his side.
It would be a future to look forward to.
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limitlessgojo · 3 years
Text
The Truth Hurts, but does it really?
Kamo Noritoshi x F!Reader
This is Part 2 of the story.
Here is part 1
Extra: Kamo's POV
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You quickly flew straight to the edge of the campus. Thank goodness it's covered in many trees at the border. You gently made your descent and jogged over to a small open field surrounded by trees. There were small bushes of roses here and there. Releasing your cursed technique, you sat down on a flat stone and breathed out a large sigh.
You took a moment to breathe and looked up to see the pink, orange, and blue sky. The sun was beginning to set. It's gorgeous. 'What in earth do I do now?! I just confessed to him didn't I? In front of like at least half the student body?!'
You can literally hear your pulse thundering against your eardrums with how furiously your heart is beating, both from the adrenaline of flying high up and the disaster that just happened.
You remembered the shock in Noritoshi's eyes. He didn't look so happy upon hearing the confession. 'I've gone and fcked up didn't I? How could I ever talk to him again?'. You finally decided to live a life of forgetting him. 'Okay. I'll definitely apologise. Not now but soon". What more can you do? Just do your best to put your feelings for him behind.
"Ahhhh, I wanna listen to BTS." You reached for your phone, only to realize it wasn't with you. Ah shit. What a day this was. You only wanted your phone, but even that was with Noritoshi-senpai.
You closed your eyes and sat quietly. About 10 to 15 minutes passed in silence. It was just you, the wind that you loved so much, the trees, and the darkening skies. Finally, your pulse slowed down to a steady beat. You could feel the fog from your head clearing up a bit more, your thoughts getting more organized as you began to compartmentalize.
You blew out a loud breath and sigh as you felt yourself getting hungry. You needed to go back soon, but you didn't have any courage to do so. The sun had already set, and the sky was turning darker by the second.
But just standing up and thinking about Noritoshi already makes your knees weak. You've always found it a bit harder to fall in love. But when you do, you completely find yourself devoted to that person.
"Why I am I like this?!!" You frustratedly pulled the roots of your hair. "Why indeed y/n". At the sound of your name, you whipped your head towards the source of the sound, only to find Noritoshi standing at the edge of the open clearing by the trees. He was damn good at hiding his presence.
Time froze. The harsh winds have transformed into a gentle breeze. You didn't dare breathe, just stared at him. Then remembered what you had to do. "I'm so sorry for earlier." You blurted out loud as you suddenly stood up.
Noritoshi's expression darkened. You felt yourself shiver and shrink into yourself. 'Ah, I made him more mad didn't I?". He walked towards you, while you slowly stepped backwards. "I didn't mean to confess- I mean, there was this cursed tool that Mai senpai had- and she and Momo senpai told me they wanted to help me look for my phone, but that was after I did what they-".
Your words were brought to a halt as your back hit the trunk of a tree. Noritoshi stopped just as you did. The sky grew dark and another awkward silence stretched between the two of you. He suddenly leaned down and sternly said, "Don't apologize".
What.
"Are you apologising because you like me? It makes me feel bad, like you're trying to take your confession back." He grumbled, confusing you further.
".... How did you even find me?"
"Your cursed energy is leaking everywhere, I could sense it from afar." He stated.
He was still frowning. You found yourself wanting to smooth out the lines on his face, so you cupped his cheek. The edges of his lips quirked up as you did so, and he leaned ever so slightly into your touch. You eyed his features, eventually settling on his lips. 'Does he like me back?'
Finding a burst of bravery, you looked up at him, straight into his eyes and confessed properly.
"Noritoshi senpai. I've liked you for a long time now. I think I more than like you, but I'm not sure if you feel the same way so...." You trailed off feeling more unsure by the second.
He leaned down, placing one hand above yours, and pressed in close to you until his half lidded eyes were all that you can see. You can feel his breath against your lips, only a centimeter apart from his. He smells so good and clean, like warm freshly laundered cotton sheets with fabric softener. You felt the tension seep away from your form as he finally murmured "I love you too", in response to your confession from earlier.
His lips pressed against yours as you closed your eyes. Warmth was all you could feel around you. Your head feels way too fuzzy like you're tucked in the softest blankets in the middle of winter.
You reached up and clasped your hands together behind the base of his neck, playing with the baby hairs there. He shivered then slid an arm around your waist with another hand behind your head, pulling you even closer to him.
His lips were so soft. You nibbled on his lower lip, and you felt him smile against you. He then pried your lips apart with his tongue and slipped it inside your mouth. This was your first kiss, so you just let him lead. Before long, you were running short of air, and you repeatedly patted his shoulder before he got the message and let go.
It was only then you realized how heavy Noritoshi was breathing as well, his face flushed red. Visible even in the dark. "Is it too fast for you?" He quietly asked. Even at a time like this, he is so thoughtful. "N-no, I'm fine." you replied as you stared back at him. He smiled as you brought your hands to his face. Kissing the tips of your fingers, then the inside of your wrist, he pulled you back and peppered kisses all over your face.
He pulled you down to the ground. You sat in his lap, making yourself comfortable before leaning back up to catch his lips. His hands felt hot and heavy, running down the side of your body, as if trying to convince himself that this is real. Noritoshi tasted too good. You were losing yourself in him.
He pulled down the collar of your uniform to suck the skin and leave love marks there, making you moan out and shiver.
"Senpai! I- I've never-". He stopped and kissed you on the forehead ever so gently. "Let's take it slow then love? I've never as well".
You stare at him, unbelieving. The man should have some experience with the way he made you so dizzy. "I'm telling the truth you know." He muttered, ears red.
It was then you realized that he was trying to put on a stronger front. So that he could take the lead and not seem awkward.
He brought his lips beside your ears as he nervously laughed, his breath making you shiver. 'Ah. Her ears and neck are her weak points' Noritoshi thought to himself.
"Be mine?" He asked you while kissing the side of your neck. "Yes I'm all yours. As long as you're mine too." You shook as he latched onto your weak spots. You pushed at his chest. "Can I get a bit of air?" You whispered. He smiled down at you, giving you a bit of space.
A distraction would be nice. "Here's your phone." he handed it to you. "Aaahhh you're the best Noritoshi senpai!!!" He leaned down once again pressing his lips to your ear as he whispered, "Didn't realize that you loved me more than you did BTS." (This man doesn't have any self control when it comes to you apparently).
For the millionth time that night, your brain just stopped functioning. You felt your cheeks heat up even more, realising that he saw the polaroid of both of you that was stuck to the back of the phone case. Just under the Suga photocard.
"Noritoshi senpai, I don't think I can handle anymore teasing." You weakly tried to push him off while he continued kissing your ear and neck. 'Has he always been this touchy??', you wondered.
"Toshi".
"Huh?" Now it was his turn to blush and fluster.
"I wanna call you Toshi, if you don't mind. Or darling?" You smiled up at him as you hug him tightly once more. He flushed REALLY BRIGHT RED upon hearing the term of endearment. 'He is so cute.' "Of course you can. Call me anything you want love", he snuggled against you, rubbing your cheeks together.
....
.. .
"Toshi, we need to go back now."
"Ah" he said. "Five more minutes". He dove back for more kisses. Who knew Kamo Noritoshi was just a fluffy teddy bear?
"Fine. But I'm the one flying us back, we need to hurry later." You pouted up at him, but he just gently smiled and kissed your pout away.
-------
Epilogue (Bonus after story scene)
Five minutes later, on the dot because Noritoshi is proper like that, he was holding onto you, as both of you flew back to the main building. "Oh bloody hell." You muttered as you could see Mai and Momo cheering and hooting from afar. "Nup, detour. Toshi! My room or yours?" You asked him. Putting your cursed technique in motion as you placed another invisible cloak over the both of you.
"Mine", he replied straight-faced as ever. "Y/N-CHAN you owe us deets tomorrow!!!" both girls yelled out loud as soon as they saw both of you disappear. "Oh my gosh, just ignore them Toshi." He laughed above you, still holding onto your shoulders. You both landed in front of the door to his room. "We should thank them for somehow helping us get together. But then again they're the types to hold it against us so best to not thank them." he said as you both entered his room.
Your heart kick-started another fast beat as you walked inside. You're alone, with your lover.
"I'm home" he said. You felt your eyes mist a bit. Oh how you loved him fiercely with all your heart, and now he's all yours. "Welcome home, Toshi".
~~~~~~~~~~
Second extra side scene:
Arata was still rummaging around, looking for your phone until he ended up in the common dining room. "Good evening Zenin senpai, Nishimiya senpai, have any of you seen y/n's phone? She misplaced it somewhere." He wheezed out.
"Noritoshi found it already, it's all good." Mai found herself laughing at the poor boy who was stressed out from you earlier, freaking out about losing your Lil Meow Meow or something. "Ahh, I can finally get some rest." Arata cried.
(yes reward the poor boy who looked for your phone for hours and still ended up empty handed, while Noritoshi somehow found it immediately).
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Author's notes: Hope you enjoyed reading! This was originally intended as a one-shot. But it grew much longer than I expected so I made it a two-part. And now I can think of extending it for a bit longer. Or leaving it as it is.
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serararku · 3 years
Text
Dancing in the Sand Pt 1
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"Okay, here's another good one." Mizuna started. “I run without feet, have a bed but never sleep, and a mouth but cannot speak. What am I?" 
Era didn’t even skip a beat. “A ghost!”
“Ghosts may not have feet but they don’t run either. Plus they can definitely talk. Try again.” The Raen woman gently guided the chocobos by the reins, making them slightly turn along the path through these dry Thanalan wastes; fortunately it was overcast so the blazing sun wasn’t slow-roasting them in what would otherwise be the equivalent of an oven in this midafternoon heatwave. Era fell silent, for a time, as her eyes darting back and forth along the road. The cogs in her head were spinning so fast she almost had sparks flying out from her ears.
“Uuuhhh…” She rubbed at her temples. “Is it… a… mmmn… Thalen, what do you thi-”
“It’s a river, darlin’.” He finally chimed in, sitting on the other end of the driver’s bench with his dented and weathered flask in his hand. Mizuna turned to give him a disapproving look-- riddles aren’t any fun when the answer is just blurted out. But she saw the look in his eyes while his gaze darted along the outer edges of the crags to their right. Despite trading with Miqo’te for years Mizuna has only recently begun to catch on to their expressions and giveaways; his ears weren’t flat against his head but they were certainly lowered, his brow was furrowed but he wasn’t outright scowling, and his eyes darted along the crags above on the right side of the wagon as if he was searching for something-- or someone. There was no doubt in her mind; Thalen was on edge.
Era on the other hand lit up like a firework once she connected the dots. “Ooooohhh… I like that one!” She clapped excitedly and stifled a giggle, reminding both Thalen and Mizuna that beneath the scars and short temper remained a little girl barely old enough to be considered an adult. “I need to tell Zevs that… but he would probably get it right away. He’s really smart…”
“He’s a forest Miqo’te. The river riddle’s the oldest one in the book as far as we’re concerned.” Thalen grunted in between swigs.
“Are you alright?” Mizuna couldn’t hide her concern any longer. “You seem tense…”
He crossed his arms and slouched in his seat. “Bah, I’m fine Doc. Just a lil’thirsty, is all…”
“Vahli isn’t going to lay a hand on you, Thalen.” Era assured, leaning over the railing to give him a warm smile. “I’ll make sure of that.” All he did was grunt at her in response.
This was the furthest Mizuna had ever been within the Zu Tribe’s territory, and the difference between their lands and the vast majority of Thanalan was night and day. Even from the shady seat on the front of the wagon, she could spot rare and valuable herbs partially hidden in the cracks along the cliffside. Crimson Gloomroot, Tifa's Tears, Faded Glory, and even some Dusklotus shimmered in her peripherals. It's little wonder why so many merchants risk their lives to travel through these untapped lands; perhaps on the way back she could pick some for a nice profit… and for her patients, of course. 
"Alright, we're here." Era sat up once the wagon ground to a halt. The two chocobos clicked their beaks and hummed lowly; they could sense the danger they were in. She took a few sharp breaths and cupped her hands around her mouth before turning to squint at Thalen. With an obnoxious belch he clamped his hands over his ears and began to hum loudly, just as he said he would. "Ku-WIIIIP! Ku-WIIIIP! Ku-WIIIIP!" Her sharp voice carried far across the wastes, echoing off the crags and distant hills. “Okay… let’s go meet them, nice and slowly.”
Mizuna knew she heard sounds differently than the other races, what with the fleshy holes in the sides or top of their heads. Her horns were sensitive to sound vibrations, true, but she still didn't pick up that high of a frequency; Miqo'te whistles were truly something else. "So now that we're waiting…" She started, glancing around for any sign of her tribe. "Is there anything I should know about your people?"
"Mmmn…" Era made her signature half-hum, half-mumble, while tapping ponderously on her chin. "Well, they don't really know what personal space is… the tribewives and kittens in particular. They're very curious, only the warriors have ever seen an Au Ra before, so… expect them to get close and touchy. And I cannot express this enough-- no magick! If they discover you can cast spells, then-!"
"No magick." Mizuna repeated calmly. The nervous chocobo began tugging the wagon along from the gentle flick of their reins, causing Thalen to stiffen and sit up once they turned the corner.
The warriors of the tribe were first to greet them. Women adorned in stained furs and mismatched pieces of plate armor salvaged from their prey all turned to stare in silence once the wagon was in clear view; squatting along the cliff high above was none other than Yhaba, who looked ready to leap into the air and land on the wagon at a moment's notice. She rose to her full height and began walking alongside Era and the outsiders, as several warriors began to trail the wagon from behind.
Next came the huntresses, who were far more relaxed than their battle-sisters, at least. Some wore leather hoods, others were completely bare chested, but all of them were covered in tribal paint to bless them during their hunts. They were perched on the old trees along the path, with most of them too busy inspecting their weapons to notice or care about the wagon. Except for Chaje of course, who nodded with approval at Era when they passed her. Yet the chocobos were terrified-- two giant zu birds stared at them from their nests, salivating at the chance at tasting them.
Last but not least was Vahli Nunh and his harem. He sat along the slope at the mouth of Valhaas Barrow, surrounded by his wives and armed with his mighty glaive. He even wore his battle harness, complete with his iron-clamped bracers, his warpaint complimenting his ritualistic tattoos and scars, and a thick cloak made from the rugged hide of a black Hrothgar.
"Wow…" Mizuna spoke in a low whisper to her two companions. "That is the biggest Miqo’te I've ever seen in my life…!" She and Thalen exchanged weary glances, but Era couldn’t help but smile; it would seem Vahli went all in to make a lasting first impression, an effort she found more endearing and cute than anything else. When the wagon finally stopped, she was the first one to hop down into the dust, and he rose to his feet to greet her.
“These are the outsiders?” He asked, spinning the glaive around in his grasp before resting it on his shoulder. “I do not trust the scaleborn woman with our kittens… and what is this Tia doing here?!”
Thalen took one last swig of his flask before slipping it into his pocket. “I’m the scaleborn’s bodyguard. I owe her a debt and this is my payment.”
Vahli snarled and bristled when he spoke, and it wasn’t long before he moved around Era to stare Thalen down face to face. “You lie! You have come to challenge me and take my wives for yourself!”
“No, he hasn’t!” Era butted in, quickly stepping alongside them before glaives were swinging and bullets were flying. “What he says is true-- he is only here to ensure her safety. When she is done tending to our young, they will both leave. You have to trust me, Vahli.” Mizuna simply watched the three Miqo’te purr, hiss, and whistle at each other; she didn’t speak a lick of Huntspeak but she knew aggression when she saw it. With luck this encounter wouldn’t turn violent, or she would have to give Ms. Slater the bad news.
Both Thalen and Vahli didn’t budge an ilm. The Nunh’s biceps were larger than the Tia’s head, and he was nearly a fulm and a half taller; but Thalen remained as still as stone, his gaze unblinking and his ears flat against the top of his head. If they were destined to fight, it would happen at any moment-- the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.
“Are you done with your staring contest?” Era’s mother Yuun called out from the entrance of the barrow. “Set aside your pride and bravado and let the lizard woman inside. You two can kill each other after our daughters are cured.” Her tone was sharp and devoid of patience, which was enough for Vahli to blink and angrily grunt before turning around to return to his harem. Era and Mizuna both sighed in relief, as Thalen slowly let go of the firing pin on his revolver, and took his first breath in what felt like a whole bell. It would seem he would have to keep one eye open around this brute, especially after their jobs here were finished.
“Dr. Kusakari.” Era beamed, speaking in Eorzean again. “Right this way!”
---
Mentions: @rzevi-tia-ffxiv​ @osric-slater-ffxiv​ (for Edalene)
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coldshrugs · 3 years
Note
I WANT TO ASK THEM ALL FOR ALL OF THEM AAAAA but i shall restrain myself; 10, 14, 21 for ulysse bc I neglect her in these memes. [optional bonus round] divvy up these between any other characters you wanna talk about; 1, 5, 19, 27. Yes, this is restraint.
OKAY I’M FINALLY GETTING TO THESE! Thank you and you know I would never ask you to restrain yourself 😂 
10. What energizes and drains them most?
Ulysse is energized most by solitude. As a ranger, she enjoys the time spent alone in the wilderness; it’s where she feels most at ease. She’s one of those people that’s never bored with their own company and often prefers it over the mediocre company of others.
Ulysse is drained most by Astarion.
14. What do they care deeply about? What kind of loyalties, commitments, moral codes, life philosophies, passions, callings, or spirituality and faith do they have? How do these tend to be expressed?
This is tough because Ulysse is like... incredibly neutral. She cares about her own health and safety, and that of her friends and loved ones (she has few of those). Her morals change depending on the situation but she tries to go with whatever feels right or interesting at the time.
Still, when she does feel a streak of loyalty to someone, she’s all in. It’s expressed with 100% trust. She’ll always have their back.
21. What kind of relationships do they tend to intentionally seek out versus actually cultivate? What kind of social contact do they prefer, and why?
In case it’s been left to doubt, she doesn’t intentionally seek out relationships 😂
That doesn’t mean she hasn’t had to cultivate any. She’s on good terms with many hunters and druids. She speaks with animals and enjoys the bonds she forms with them. As for preferred social contact, she prefers it to be good-natured and temporary.
She has family back in Baldur’s Gate that she sees on her occasional stops into the city. She loves them but they’re not enough to keep her from her solitary lifestyle, and they’ve never tried to stop her.
And of course, lately, she has had to cultivate bonds with her ragtag group of companions. She finds things to respect in all of them, even if she can’t find things to like about some of them.
I’ll answer the rest briefly for my four current head tenants!
1. How do they move and carry themselves? Pace, rhythm, gestures, energy?
Effie: Walks with a steady, confident gait; not quite a swagger but she’s not afraid to really take up the small space she occupies. Her energy varies wildly between a bit gloomy or bright and chipper and depends entirely on the company. She doesn’t really gesture with her hands, but her face often betrays her true emotions unless she’s in Swindle Mode.
Cleo: Bouncy, bubbly quick steps. Light on her feet. Emotive and quick to smile, and gestures with her hands when speaking. She’s touchy as well, so she’ll reach out to her conversational partners or even grab an object for a prop.
Io: She’s so lanky but moves with THE MOST grace you’ve ever seen. There are no wasted actions with Io. There’s a certain restraint there, too, because she’s almost never totally comfortable around others. Her hands are often still, arms usually crossed.
Ulysse: She’s got a VERY quiet footfall and a sort of danger about her presence. There’s a cat-like element to her movements. She’s not very emotive, but her eyes are always busy, always taking in her surroundings. Often, her hands are on her hips, ready to grab a dagger or an axe. 
5. How do they dress? What styles, colors, accessories, and other possessions do they favor? Why?
Effie: A blousy top and dark corset-y jerkin, fitted but stretchy pants, and black lace-up boots that hit just above the ankle and probably have a small heel. Or at least, that’s what she’ll wear once she’s in Velantis and can afford to dress in clothes for the aesthetic. Think like, slightly more femme Renfri from the Netflix version of The Witcher and you’ve got Effie’s look. She likes muted, dark colors; burgundy, navy, plum, and black. As for accessories: she has a few ear piercings on both ears and she prefers silver jewelry in those; sometimes she’ll wear a scarf (in case she needs to wipe away blood), and then she’d consider her dagger and sword accessories too.
Cleo: Cleo's style is all about breezy fabrics, simple silhouettes, and rich colors and patterns. She's not afraid to show skin and the weather usually permits it. To accessorize, she adds layered necklaces and a staple pair of earrings, sometimes pulling sheer patterned tights into a less busy look. When the weather cools, her usual wardrobe just gets a sweater or cardigan thrown on top and she might consider adding thick solid black tights under her skirt and boots. Cleo doesn’t own pants tbh.
Io: Oh man, Io’s gone through a few style changes in her time. I like to think the more comfortable she becomes with her place in Eorzea, the more comfortable she dresses? She’s not trying to impress anyone at this point in her journey, so she’s in drapey fabrics, practical boots, and her legs are mostly free. It’s a look she can fight in if she needs to, but it’s also something she can wear around the Rising Stones with her friends and show off her personality. She’s currently decked out in chunky jewelry as well.
Ulysse: Hmm, Ulysse doesn’t really have “style” tbh. Everything she wears must be practical. She’s got no use for anything less. She favors earth tones- greens, yellows, browns. But her clothes are sturdy, warm, and allow her to move quickly and quietly.
19. How do they behave within a group? What role(s) do they take? Does this differ if they know and trust the group, versus finding themselves in a group of strangers? Why?
Effie: She’s going to default to a Follower With Opinions unless forced into a leadership role. She’s might be confident in her abilities, but she isn’t confident about how others will react to her. With Aeran, they’re often on equal footing and will just throw ideas back and forth until something they both agree on sticks. In all groups, she’s a bit of a peacekeeper but likes to share her sense of humor.
Cleo: Oh she’s immediately going to turn into the Mom Friend. Cleo’s extremely nurturing and wants everyone around her to feel cared for. In a group of strangers, she’s probably not going to be as talkative but she’d still find a way to check in on someone feeling even more awkward than she does.
Io: Please don’t make her talk. Please don’t make her lead. Please don’t notice when she quietly slips to the back of the group and then out of the room and into the comfort of the local library.
Ulysse: She does not want to lead, but she will step the fuck up if she has to. She doesn’t really get why people want to follow her when the only thing she’s been in charge of for decades is herself but oh well. Ulysse has a bit of a problem with applying the correct amount of gravity to any given situation and in a group, she’s very “that’s rough, buddy” when someone really needs a deep emotional conversation.
27. What do they strongly like and dislike, in any category? Why?
Okay, I’ll do weather 😩
Effie: HATES rain after that year in Rona. Or hates how she’s just gotten used to feeling soggy. Really likes that sort of cold autumnal sunny weather that’s crisp and comfortable.
Cleo: Doesn’t love snow from the few times she’s experienced it. She doesn’t really feel strongly about the weather otherwise. Likes rain, besides the way it makes her hair frizz.
Io: Coerthas is her favorite place in Eorzea and she loves snow. She’s not a fan of the warmer climates, her ears get too hot and it’s just very uncomfy.
Ulysse: Loves warm balmy weather. She’s another that doesn’t care for rain. It washes away tracks and scents.
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elwinglyre · 4 years
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2019 Fics in Review for Elwinglyre
Sherlock
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Next Right: Welcome to Westbound Rest Area 818 WIP, 24K Chapters: 5/?, Explicit. Johnlock, Setting late 1970s, Michigan, USA. POV third person alternates between John Watson and Sherlock Holmes, Beta by recently_folded. 
Summary: Sherlock Holmes dreams of escape from his smothering family and space to breathe. Studying chemistry at the University of Michigan, he's almost far enough away to fill his lungs. Almost.While John Watson dreams of being a doctor, he also dreams of being with another man. John knows that with hard work and study, he can make the first a reality, but he's certain the second can never be. Until a secret encounter in the dark at Rest Area 818 changes everything. When Sherlock meets his new roommate, John Watson, he sees a man in the closet. Sherlock hides from no one. Except from his own family, a detective inspector who wants his evidence returned, and his secret encounter at Rest Area 818. 
I Wanna Hold Your Hand 6K, Explicit Johnlock, Established platonic relationship. After S4. First person POV John beta by recently_folded
Summary: It's All Hallows' Eve and John is having a quiet pint with Lestrade when Sherlock swoops in to whisk his partner away to an old mansion with family secrets and a recent murder to solve. What transpires is a chilling tale of the two trapped inside a freezer with only one way out.Oh, what will they do to get warm? Hold hands? (and well, other body parts).
Let’s Pretend 2.5K, Johnlock, Alternative ending to @chriscalledmesweetie’s Our Divinest Senses Series for Fandom Trumps Hate. Beta by recently_folded
Our Divinest Senses premise: After being sectioned, John and Sherlock met for the first time when they were sentenced to six months as the only residents of a secret government facility on one of the uninhabited Shetland Islands. Forced to work together to play a series of elaborate games set up by Mycroft, they gradually became friends, and then lovers. Now, rather than continuing to attempt to escape, they have decided to use this time as an all-expense-paid Sex Holiday.In this alternative ending: Mycroft’s last game gives Sherlock and John some kinky double chocolate-caramel role-playing fun.
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The Palmyra Atoll Explicit, 3/3, 16K, Johnlock, Third person limited John POV Written for @fangirlsays for the 2019 Fandom Trumps Hate, who asked for some kidnapped John Whump and Toplock.
Summary: As John's preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island. 
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Being John Watson-ish 17/17, 69K. Dub-con, Johnlock, Explicit, beta by recently_folded
Summary: When consulting detective Sherlock Holmes steps on one toe too many at a crime scene, he's consigned to a desk job in an archaic office on the seventh-and-a-half floor of the New Scotland Yard. It’s in this bleak office that Sherlock discovers a portal into the mind of renowned author John Watson. Grander than his mind palace, this new wonderland affords Sherlock new vistas of experimentation. To learn more about the mystery behind the portal, Sherlock seeks out and befriends Watson. But then it all goes wrong when others find the secret portal door—including the man whose brain he visits.
BASKERVILLE: The ULTIMATE JOHNLOCK FIX-IT 4.6K, Johnlock, For @a-different-equation​ for Holmestice, beta by recently_folded
Summary: This play is based on Baskerville by Ken Ludwig (actual title is Ken Ludwig's Baskerville: A Sherlock Holmes Mystery). It's penned as a Holmestice gift for a_different_equation who asked for a fix-it for this particular play. I do wonder, if the fix it request was to make it a Holmes and Watson romance or fix it as in "make it actually funny”?
The Story of the Misguided Matchmaker: Or how to get in over your head and into a threesome, 5/5, 15K, Johnlock & John/Sherlock/Greg, Explicit, written as a gift to @jobooksncoffee​ the super Johnlock fan, beta by recently_folded
Summary: It may not be the best thought out plan, but it's his only plan, or so thinks Gregory Lestrade. All because he's had enough. He's seen John and Sherlock's partnership survive murders and Moriarty, only to have Mary's death dwindle down the fabric of their bond. One doesn't believe he deserves forgiveness, and the other doesn't believe he deserves love. This is the story of how Greg designs to bring them together—all it will take is a bit of self-sacrifice on Greg's part. And what a sweet surrender it is!
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The Lonely 7.8K, Johnlock, Explicit, Major character death, for @itsneverjustheartdisease​ as based on a story from The Twilight Zone with the same title, she told me not to flinch at the ending, assuring me that sometimes she needs a really good cry. Beta by recently_folded
Summary: Witness if you will a distant planet with a dungeon made of desert sand and mountain stone. This planet holds one inmate, a man wrongly accused, serving a life sentence. His only solace, his notebook and the thought of the day when the supply ship brings him a pardon. Instead, salvation comes to John Watson in a large box and a visitor from The Twilight Zone.This is a gift to itsneverjustheartdisease for all her past support and friendship. She suggested this story—one of her favorites.
For the man who knows what he wants (A Birthday Gift) 3/3, 9.4K, Johnlock, Explicit, Written for the Sherlock Challenge January 2019 challenge “Ten”, beta by recently_folded
Summary: What do you give the man who has almost everything he already wants or needs? John knows, and he’s giving it to him. It’s also a gift that keeps giving, and John plans to enjoy it as much in return. There’s just one catch: It’s not something they’re to talk about. Not until after it’s unwrapped.
Good Omens
Twigs ’n Berries in the Garden 5/5 WIP, 9K, Crowley/Aziraphale, Explicit, Dub-con. Written for Good Omens Kink Meme
This is the prompt given: Aziraphale/Crowley, non-con or dub-con, garden of Eden, early days darker!CrowleyI have this idea that early Crowley (Garden of Eden era) was way less noble and way more "demonic" and also harboring a lot of ill-will towards angels, BUT is also clearly very intrigued by Aziraphale and instantly lusts for him. I'd love a fic in which he does a hard sell temptation into extreme dubcon territory in Eden (after they meet on the wall?) OR it can even go so far as non-con.
How could something so glorious be wrong? 2.6K, Aziraphale/Crowley, Explicit, Written for Good Omens Kink Meme. It’s a wingfic with faeries…and rather hot.
Prompt: Crowley gets hit with sex pollen. Aziraphale comes up with a bunch of justifications as to why fucking him is the good, moral solution to the problem, and proceeds to do so.
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Death Takes a Holiday 12/12, 18K, Crowley/Aziraphale, Explicit, beta by @kongeriket-noregur 
Summary: Since the Fall, Death has been busy, busy, busy. No rest, no time off. Hardly fair—or so thinks Aziraphale who gets Crowley on board to convince Death to take a holiday. And Death isn't too hard to convince. Having Death owe you a favor may certainly come in handy one day. What happens when Death finds his heart and decides: what the world needs now, is love sweet love? He plays matchmaker!
Temptation and Sin in Aziraphale's Nice Gentleman's Club 2/2, 2.4K, Aziraphale/Crowley, Explicit, Written for Good Omens Kink prompt
Prompt: Aziraphale's Nice Gentleman's Club full of gavotte and gay assignations would be perfect for some er. Wiles. And with Crowley asleep, well, Aziraphale's rather bound by their Arrangement to take care of that sort of thing.So I want Aziraphale doing some tempting (really it's for Crowley's benefit! not at all because there are scrumptious men) and enjoying it.
Caution: Objects in Mirror are Exactly as They Appear 2.5K, Aziraphale/Crowley, Explicit, Written for Good Omens Kink prompt
Prompt: Crowley stops time so that he and Aziraphale can do something indecent in public. Or, something indecent in public happens as an unexpected but welcome result of him stopping time…
Unspeakable Unions and Vicarious Pleasures  2/2. 3K, Crowley/Aziraphale, Explicit, Part 1 of Unspeakable Unions and Vicarious Pleasures, Written for Good Omens Kink prompt post #1
Prompt: They run into each other at ye olde orgy someplace back when those are just a thing and they argue and/or flirt and then each end up having their first time with some random humans while staring and eye-fucking each other from across the room. Please and thank you!
Behold, a Beggar Born  2/2, 2.6K, Explicit, Crowley/Aziraphale, Part 2 of Unspeakable Unions and Vicarious Pleasures, Written for Good Omens Kink prompt 
Prompt: Aziraphale wants Crowley to fuck him, but he doesn't want to have to spell it out or use crude language. So he tries to tell Crowley what he wants subtly, and Crowley tries to get him to say it explicitly, teasing him. 
The Kiss of the Serpent’s Curse 2/2, 2.6K, Crowley/Aziraphale, Explicit. Part 3 of Unspeakable Unions and Vicarious Pleasures, Written for Good Omens Kink prompt 
Prompt: All these years as friends and lovers yet Aziraphale has never set eyes on Crowleys wings. He hides them. The Serpent's Curse not only damaged his legs to the point of chronic pain, it also rendered him flightless with broken and deformed wings. Crowley owes Aziraphale so much. He must reveal them. Schmoopy hurt/comfort ensues along with some hot touchy-feely wingasms.
Queer As Folk (US)
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Ain't No Sunshine, 6/6, 13K, Brian/Justin, Explicit, One plus years post 5:13
Summary Brian visits Justin in NYC and finds that something is very wrong there. 
@15qwerty​, @a-different-equation​, @ylc1​, @88thparallel​, @thebluehare​, @itsneverjustheartdisease​, @jobooksncoffee​, @whodwantmeasaflatmate​, @ohsocyanide​, @the-seven-fandom-solution​, @may-shepard​, @jbaillier​, @inevitably-johnlocked​, @why-cant-people-just-think​, @handleone​, @nashyara​, @ellipsisaspired​, @elldotsee​, @iwantthatbelstaffanditsoccupant​, @francj96​,   @yorkiepug​, @mrbotanyb​ @imnova​ @kestrelwing64​ @tali-zora​ @lapuslazulli​ @221b-johnlocked-x​ @brokenlibrarygirl​ @theceruleanqueen​ @pippn-frodo​ @shiplocks-of-love​ @addignisherlock​ @badkatpat​ @manic-moose​ @simpleanddestructivechemistry​ @cennfaelad​ @221bsweetheart​ @missmuffin221b​​ @one-lost-at-sea​​ @alexaprilgarden​​ @love-in-mind-palace​​ @watsonshoneybee​@officialskylar​​ @fuxshakes​​ @sincewhendoyoucallme-john​ @cupidford​ @gryssenielsen​​ @anyway-kindness​​ @fangirl-says​​ @fuyuunoriyuu​​ @shelleysprometheus​ @lokis-scepter-in-my-pants​​ @chriscalledmesweetie​​ 
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politely-writings · 5 years
Text
Papa Bear
Author’s Note: Prompt requested by @vixen-uchiha, “ I want Adrian's high rode to be telling his Natalie and or his father. The lila rossi is lieing and stars such as Jagged Stone And Prince Ali. My good friend Marinette knows this. But we have no way to prove she is lieing without cause a scene. And she is being to touchy feely with me and I moved in class to prevent this but it hasn't help. Can you deal with her before she lies about marinette and myself “.
Summary: Lila has been hanging off of Adrien despite his protests, and he’s noticed that she targets Marinette with her ‘woe is me’ lies more often than not. The high road might not be paved in violence and public humiliation, but it sure as hell was built on a father’s protective nature.
- - -
Adrien Agreste knew how to be the better person. He’d learned early on that it was better not to challenge those who sought to harm him – anyone with ill intent didn’t deserve the wrath of one Agreste, let alone two. Gabriel Agreste, despite his faults, was a father. And fathers don’t let their children get hurt. Many a photographer and model had found themselves blacklisted. Almost every reporter he’d come in contact with had ended up losing their job. A few had even earned themselves a lawsuit.
When Lila Rossi decided that Adrien’s personal space belonged to her, he thought that maybe subtle pushes would lead her to the truth. She made him uncomfortable. He didn’t want her touching him. He had thought that she could be changed gradually. Then he’d learned that she’d threatened Marinette. The sweetest girl in class, their ‘everyday Ladybug’, the literal light of his life, his best friend – Lila was trying to destroy that friendship. She was trying to break someone who had been there for him through everything, who had done whatever she could to help both him and their class whenever she could.
Adrien didn’t like liars. He liked bullies even less.
So, really, wouldn’t taking the high road include showing her why she shouldn’t treat people like objects to be played with and tossed aside whenever she felt like it? It made sense, didn’t it, that if she was going to play with fire, she’d get burned. No one knew how to play with matches like the Agreste family.
“Father,” Adrien started as he sat at dinner. Gabriel looked up with concern. He knew that tone. Adrien didn’t use that tone unless he really needed help.
“Yes, Adrien?”
“I – I need your help with something. You remember my friend Marinette? She won your derby hat contest.”
“I do. She’s a very fine girl, indeed. What does she have to do with this?” Adrien could see the wheels turning in Gabriel’s head.
“There’s this girl in class, Lila Rossi. She’s been making up all these lies, about people like Jagged Stone and Prince Ali, and even celebrities from America and other countries. At first, I thought there wasn’t any harm to it, but now she’s turning our class against Marinette. She’s lying about things Marinette has done, making her out to be a bully, and she’s stealing Marinette’s designs and passing them off as her own.” That got Gabriel’s attention. He hated design theft. “And, well – she keeps touching me even after I tell her to stop. She hangs onto my arm, and kisses my cheek, and hugs me even though I’ve told her I don’t like when she does it. I’m afraid she’s going to make up lies about me as well if I’m any harsher with her, but I really don’t want her touching me. She’s already being awful to Marinette, and I’m concerned that I might be next if I don’t give her what she wants.”
Gabriel was stiff. Adrien could tell that much. He was quiet for a minute before speaking, his voice low and ice cold.
“It will be handled.”
Four words, but a world of hurt behind them. Adrien almost felt bad for Lila.
Almost.
The following Monday, Adrien was sitting at his spot in the back beside Marinette’s seat when said girl came stumbling into the room, her smile brighter than the sun. He had an idea of what she was going to say, but he wanted to let her say it.
“Adrien! Your dad – he offered me an apprenticeship! He said he liked my designs so much that he wanted to work with me!” Adrien stood and wrapped her in a hug as she ran to him. He’d expected this. After all, Adrien wasn’t the only one Gabriel was fond of in this class.
“Marinette! How could you! You stole my apprenticeship!” Lila’s whiny voice rang through the room. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, but it seemed Lila wasn’t done.
“I was supposed to work with Gabriel Agreste, but I got a letter the other day that someone had told him some horrible things about me and he decided to give it to someone else! That’s so mean of you Marinette, I worked so hard for that apprenticeship!” The class was beginning to look at Marinette angrily. Adrien wrapped his arms around her protectively, glaring at them.
“I’ll thank you for not continuing to lie about me, Mlle. Rossi,” came a cold voice. The class turned around to face a vicious sneer on Gabriel Agreste’s face. “I don’t much like liars. Especially not when they’re lying about myself or my son.”
“Mr. Agreste, what do you mean? Lila isn’t a liar, Marinette is! Whatever she told you about Lila, it isn’t true!” Alya looked for all the world like she was ready to fist-fight Gabriel himself on behalf of the liar.
“Unfortunately for you, Mlle. Cesaire, Marinette did not say anything to me about miss Rossi. In fact, until today, I haven’t spoken with Marinette since the derby hat contest. What I was talking about was the fact that miss Rossi is lying about an apprenticeship. I never offered her any such thing, nor did Marinette steal it from her. Marinette didn’t even know about the apprenticeship until I called her this morning.” His voice was cold, and emotionless.
“What? But she- “
“In face, it would seem that miss Rossi is a serial liar. Over the past few days I’ve been looking into the stories she’s told, and from what I can tell, not a single one of them is true. Jagged Stone has never owned a kitten. Prince Ali works with children, not world pollution. And for the months she has been out of school, she wasn’t traveling. Her mother was here, in Paris, where the pair of them have been for two years now. Your new favorite person is nothing but a fake, and it would seem that she does more than lie. It has come to my attention, miss Rossi, that you have been putting your hands on my son without his permission, and furthermore, continuing to do so even after he has asked you to stop. So, on behalf of my son and one Mlle. Dupain-Cheng,” he handed Lila two envelopes with a malicious smirk, “you’ve been served.”
Adrien knew what was in those envelopes. He’d gone with his dad to discuss the matter with Marinette’s parents, and sat there in the police station as the papers had been filed.
“Restraining orders?” Lila cried loudly, even as the class stared at her in confusion and anger.
“Yes, Mlle. Rossi. From this day forward, you will not come within one hundred feet of Adrien or Marinette. Furthermore, should you violate this order, all evidence of your lies will be exposed to the public. For your sake, and the sake of your mother’s job, I hope you learn to do as you’re told,” Gabriel sneered.
Adrien smiled, his arm still around Marinette’s shoulder. The pair of them walked down the stairs and out of the room with Gabriel. As soon as they were out the door, the classroom erupted into noise. The trio continued on despite this. Once outside, Marinette turned to Gabriel hesitantly.
“Thank you, Mr. Agreste. My parents said that Lila was being handled, but I didn’t believe them. I appreciate the help. I just have one question – how did you know what Lila was doing to me?”
“Adrien told me. It would seem that you’ve been a good friend to him, and I cannot allow such villains as miss Rossi to continue what they do. You’re very welcome, Marinette. Now come, the two of you deserve the finest lunch Paris has to offer.”
As the trio stepped into the Agreste limo, Adrien reached out and grabbed Marinette’s hand and squeezed, conveying what he was thinking. You’re my friend. I’ll always protect you.
She smiled at him, and the door closed.
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emwheezie · 2 months
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Who are you choosing if my characters were in a dating sim?
Lennon:
Gremlin mode
Daddy issues
Bad hair
Musical/Creative genius. Perfect pitch
Ambitious
Doesn't shower
Ate a lasagna once
Doesn't know how to use his words
Fights drywall
Movie watcher
Chicken addiction
Street smart
Closeted Weezer fan
Dunkin Donuts
Shoes on the bed
Green Day
Might be silly
Goes up the stairs on all fours
Stressed/depressed/poorly dressed
PBC singer and lead guitar
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Tony:
Purple
Crazy driver
:3
Mall pretzels
Catholic school survivor
Emotionally smart/book smart
Stressed/depressed/dressed to impress
Afraid of getting old/ugly
Wants to fight the MBTA
Might be delusional
throws up from anxiety
Redbull and Taco Bell
Loves dogs
Green Day
Poetic
Saw Moses (biblical) in the woods while high with Theo
Bisexual
Lactose intolerant
Finds meaning in everything
Always in a relationship
PBC bassist and "manager"
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Enzo:
Evil
Might have killed a man
Man Bun
Posts on DeviantART
Loves dragons
whispers and shakes
Future tattoo artist
Movie connoisseur
Might be a furry...?
LOVES the Saw movie franchise
Protective and loyal
Street smart
Stays up all night in the dark
In an online relationship
Does what he wants
Doesn't waste time
Sparkling water enjoyer
Tea drinker
Never listened to a music in his life
Guitarist in a band (PBC)
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Theo:
From New Hampshire
Asexual
Golden retriever personality 
Grew up with 8 siblings
Joined the military after High School
Eats Oatmeal?
Doesn't wear a seatbelt
Outdoorsy/hiking adventures
Works at a club/bar with his wife, Gia
Is a cinnamon roll
Emotionally smart
Saw Moses (biblical) in the woods while high with Tony
Calls music his "funky jams"
Forgets his shoes
Mtn Dew
Forgetful
Kidney Stones
His appendix exploded once
PBC drummer
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Park:
Loves alcohol
Hates the government
Hates the IRS
Has never paid taxes
No sense of personal space/very touchy
LOUD
Climbs things
Grilled cheese enthusiast  
Dunkin Donuts manager
Aliens are 4 realz
loves video games
Wicked smart
Goes to MIT for like space engineering or something idk
Makes monkey noises
"I have to be both the sexiest and most mentally challenged person in the room at all times"
Obsessed with skin walkers
Conspiracy theories
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Oli:
Photography/cinematography 
Graphic design
Urban Explorer
Abandoned things
Summer time vibes
Lives in sleeveless shirts
Black coffee drinker
health freak/gym rat
Smokes cigarettes (hey we all have our vices)
Secretly gay
Chronic complainer
Works at zumies
Does graffiti 
Runs from his problems
Travels for work
Drives a modded Subaru
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Alyssa:
Preforms unethical experiments in the sims 3
Loves cows
So many many plushies there's no room for her in the bed
weezer fan
Talks a lot
Lots of keychains/charms
Maximalism!
Assertive
Good listener
Workaholic 
HAS to be the BEST at anything she does
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Rosie
Grew up with strict parents
Working too many hours at Dunkin Donuts
Former ballet/dancer
Likes to bake and really good at it!
Compulsive liar
"I have a twin sister who goes to another school"
Gets jealous easily
Body image problems/eating disorders :(
Emotionally Immature 
Spider eyelashes
A nose ring is "rebelling from my parents"
Currently in college
Afraid of change
Emotional support eldest daughter
Loves to sing
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Text
ash garden (iv)
chapters 1, 2, and 3 read it here on ao3
A few short years ago, I would have run like a coward. The urge to disappear into the early morning mist and climb into the mountains still pounds through me with every heartbeat. 
But I don’t, because I at least owe him this fucking much. 
The convoy rolls to a stop on the Hawkway, two armored transports and a funeral hearse, blacker than the night sky. Bile rises in my throat every time I look at it, so I don’t. I remain kneeling next to him, my eyes fixed resolutely on the ground. Even my pride can’t save me from the shame and rage rolling in my chest. 
Around six this morning, I finally picked up a signal on my broadcaster. I sent a message to the estate, and then I pitched the fucking thing off the cliff. It didn’t save Davidson, and I hate it for that. 
I hate myself for that.
The door to one of the transports opens, and I don’t have to look to see who it is. The wedding band on his left hand is indication enough. Silver and gold, intertwined forever. 
I think of the matching ring squeezed in my own hand, leaving angry red imprints in my palm. Tears burn the back of my eyes, hot and stinging. 
Blinking them away, I stand to face the man I failed most in the entire world.
Carmadon is a greenwarden made of stone, the lines of his face chiseled with pain. His white suit is rumpled, his eyes bloodshot. My heart twists even tighter at the thought of him falling asleep last night, waiting for a husband who would never come home.
“Evangeline,” he whispers. His gaze flickers from Davidson to me and back again.
“Carmadon, I’m so sorry.” I hate myself for the empty condolence.  I’m sorry is the most useless thought in the world to a grieving person. But, like before, my words fail me. There’s nothing to say. Nothing I can do to alleviate the pain that I caused.
Carm bows his head, the smallest of movements. “Could you—could you give me a moment?” he asks quietly. 
“Of course.” My mouth is so dry that the words barely make it past my lips. I leave too quickly, trying to run from the grief. No matter what I do, I won’t be able to get away from it fast enough. 
Elane waits for me by the convoy, the platinum engagement ring sparking on her finger like a firework. She wants me to know she’s there, giving me the space to run again if I need to. It’s a kindness I don’t deserve. 
“Love,  you are alive,” is the first thing she says to me. Her eyes linger on my dirty knees, my torn uniform, the tear streaks down my face. She brushes her thumbs over my cheeks. “I will—” The tiniest crack appears in her voice—“I will be eternally grateful for that.”
I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve any of it. My first instinct is to shut myself away, to let my walls come up and hide me until I’m ready. But that won’t help me or anyone else. With a monumental effort, I make myself talk. 
“If not for me,” I whisper harshly, my eyes landing everywhere but her face, “he would be alive right now.” My shoulders shake as a wave of emotion sweeps over me, a sea of feelings I know well.  Self-hatred. Denial. Grief. Rage. 
Elane’s gaze meets mine, and it’s like staring into a mirror to my own soul. “You think I don’t blame myself?” she asks. “He may have died saving you, Eve, but  I  was the one that asked him to go.” She’s crying now, trembling against me, and I fold her into my arms and try to wish away all her pain.
“It’s not your fault. It’s  not your damn fault.” I say it over and over again, like a mantra. Like a prayer.  
“Evangeline, I sent him to his death. ” Her voice shatters on the last word. “And I just—I just remember watching him leave, and praying you both would come back safe, but...”
“It’s not your fault,” I whisper again, sounding like a broken record. My eyes are fixed on Carmadon, kneeling beside his husband, his shoulders shaking. On Elane in my arms, her tears sliding beneath wet eyelashes.  Look what you did,  the entire scene screams.  Look what you did, you stupid, stupid girl. 
I’m not wrong—it  isn’t Elane’s fault. 
It’s mine. 
~~~
My head spins as I run, and run, and run. Evergreens cast lengthening shadows over the track, and all I can think about is that at this time yesterday, Davidson was still alive. He’s been gone for almost a full day now, but the earth keeps spinning despite his absence. Even though it feels as if it should have stopped. 
The world ended when Dane Davidson breathed his last, but still the sun rises and sets. 
I see him every time I blink. In those split seconds behind my closed eyelids, blood soaks through his shirt, turning his uniform the color of the dawn. His fingers clutch the silver chain at his neck, lifting the ring to the waning light. The rise and fall of his chest slows. And stops. 
I keep running.
I guess I still  am a fucking coward.
Carmadon made a broadcast at noon today, and now the entire continent knows how and why the premier of Montfort met his end. Following the broadcast was a state funeral. I didn’t attend. I didn’t watch. How could I, given that his death was practically my fault?
No one has seen Carm for the rest of the day, and the estate is lifeless without his presence. The entire place is wilting: flowers turn brown on the balconies, trees shed their leaves, fruit shrivels and discolors. All of nature grieves for his loss. 
If I were a better person and friend, I would go after him. I owed him more than words could describe—and I repaid the debt by letting his husband die. But I can’t find it in me to face his grief again. I don’t want to look into his eyes and see condemnation, conscious or not.
Elane is better than I am. She was good enough to stand beside Carmadon during the broadcast and the service, the former queen of the Rift giving her support for the world to see. I was still here, punching heavy things and crying. 
No one has tried to seek me out yet, giving me space to vent. But soon, I’ll have to grow up and head inside to face the consequences of my actions. Soon, I’ll have to talk one-on-one with Carmadon. If not now, then inevitably later. After all, I was the last person to see his husband alive; I was the person that  caused his death.
And I still have his wedding band on a chain around my neck, resting near my heart. It thuds against my chest as I run, in time with my footsteps on the track. I need to give it to Carm, but I haven’t found the right words to say for when I do. 
Perhaps there  aren’t any right words for this situation. Perhaps some are just less wrong than others. 
Alone with my thoughts, it’s easy for me to sense the intruder when he comes. Metal rings out in my perception: his uniform is cut with chrome lining, and a silver ring adorns his left hand. 
There’s only one person that could be. 
I slow to a walk as he nears the track. My heartbeat pounds in my chest, and I rest my hands on my knees as I try to recover enough to speak. 
“Tolly,” I say, and my voice hitches on that one word. “I–”
He sweeps me into a hug before I can get any further. “Little sister,” he says, his arms wrapped around me. “We’ve been worried. You have to stop scaring us like that.” 
I lean into his chest, feeling the warmth radiate from his torso. My brother is not a touchy-feely person. Moments of contact like these are rare, so I cherish them all the more. 
“I’m not little,” is all I can think to say, but saying that only makes me feel more like a child.
Ptolemus smiles as he pulls away. “Evie, I’m a head taller than you and twice as wide.”
“Oh, shut up,” I say. It comes out with more venom than I intend, and I flinch at the hardness in my own voice. 
Instead of looking hurt, my brother examines me closer, his eyes searching. “Are you alright?” 
“No, I’m not fucking alright.” Angry tears suddenly well up in my eyes again. “But the person you should be asking that question is Carmadon. Not me.” I swipe at my nose with the sleeve of my training suit. The skin there is already raw and red from repeating the action too many times today. 
Part of me feels ashamed at breaking down to Tolly. Neither of us cried much as kids, and it’s not like we’re strangers to death. But Davidson’s death feels like no other. My brain doesn’t know what to do with it, swinging wildly between utter denial and complete breakdown. It’s too big to process. Too  unreal to have possibly happened. 
“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, Evangeline,” he whispers, pulling me close again. “But in the meantime, it’s okay to not be okay. Grief isn’t a contest. It’s not something you deserve or don’t deserve to feel. You are allowed to be sad and angry even if you weren’t hurt the  most .” 
“When did you become a therapist?” I snap, and immediately regret it. Everything is coming out harsher than I want it to. It’s like I can do nothing but push away the people I love. 
Somehow, my brother seems to have endless reservoirs of patience today. I hate that it probably comes from a well of sympathy I don’t deserve. “I’m married to a healer,” Ptolemus says, and I feel his smile as an infinitesimal tightening of his stomach. “It comes with the territory. And right now, all my therapist instincts are telling me to get you inside.”
“I’m fine out here.” 
“I can practically see your fingers turning purple.” He grabs my hand and turns it over to examine. “How long have you been out here, and when was the last time you ate?” 
“I—” I glance up at the sky. The sun is touching the horizon now, the sky bleeding red and violet. I’ve been here since mid-morning, but I’m not about to tell him that. 
Tolly scowls at me. My silence is as good as a confession for him. “That’s it. You need to come inside. You’ll catch your death out here.” When I still say nothing, he adds, “Don’t make me carry you.” 
I have at least enough pride left to walk on my own two feet, so I follow him grudgingly back to the estate. 
~~~
The soles of my feet scrape against the cobblestone path. The estate looms higher above me with each step as I trail behind Tolly, unwilling to go in. The lower levels have been teeming with government officials all day, and socializing—or worse, accepting condolences—is the last thing I want to do right now.
But Ptolemus doesn’t lead me through the entrance hall. We slip in through a side door, and he steers me down a hallway towards the kitchens. I stop short as something sparks in my perception, a feeling I would know anywhere. Elane’s ring. She’s here too. 
 Here, I realize as I look around the empty kitchen, but invisible.  
“Hi, love,” I say to the seemingly deserted room. 
No response, but I wasn’t expecting one. Elane will reappear when she’s ready, and not a moment before. We have different ways of handling our emotions. I rage and vent, not caring who hears me. She vanishes altogether to cope out of sight.
I help myself to a bowl of blackberries and a platter of cheese and crackers on one of the counters, suddenly ravenous. Tolly takes a seat next to me, leaving the one across from me for Elane. We both jump as her chair suddenly moves, scraping against the floor. 
“Hey.” She flashes back into view as she sits, still wearing her black gown from the funeral, and I think idly of her old Haven colors. Her red hair hangs limply against her shoulders, its usual luster gone.
With a pang, I realize she’s been grieving as well, but unlike me, Elane hates to be alone. I practically abandoned her for half the day, just when she needed me most.  Selfish.  
“I’m so sorry,” I say first. “I should’ve checked in on you.”
“Don’t worry about it: I had Lyrisa. I know you needed space.” To my relief, she smiles, and the expression reaches her eyes. “How are  you , love?”
I brace myself against another wave of emotion.  Wave is inaccurate at this point—it’s like a void that opens up inside me, draining me of everything else. “It still feels like a nightmare,” I admit quietly. “Like it couldn’t have actually…”
“I know,” Elane whispers. “Do you need to talk about it right now?”
Silently, I shake my head. The movement makes me dizzy, and I have to grab the counter to steady myself. Eating real food for the first time today has made me realize how hungry and thirsty I am. I don’t want to—and probably  can’t —do anything but change and go to bed. 
“Then we can talk about other things.” She reaches for my hand across the countertop, shivering slightly as she takes it in both of her own. “My god, you’re freezing.” Elane looks askance at me before leaning down to breathe warm air on our conjoined hands. “You’ve practically become a shiver, Evangeline.”
“I’m well aware,” I say. Her touch feels feverish to me, but that’s probably because my skin is ice cold. Experimentally, I try to wiggle my fingers individually of one another. It feels like they’re made of wood.
Elane laughs and gently presses a kiss to each one of my knuckles, her mouth warm against my skin. “Relearning basic motor control, are we? I can help you with that.”
“Get a room.” Tolly covers his eyes, feigning disgust at us both.
I leer back at him. “Like you and Wren are any better.” 
He makes a rude gesture and plucks a blackberry from my bowl. I snatch it from his hand and pop it into my own mouth. 
It feels good, this comfortable, easy rhythm between the three of us. It feels  normal  , but it isn’t the same  .  It’s impossible to ignore the void inside me, the grief that hangs over all of us, threatening to pop this fragile bubble of content. 
Because things aren’t normal any more. 
Davidson is gone.  
And he isn’t coming back.
~~~
taglist: @freaky-freiday @evangelineartemiasamos @farleydiana @fuvkingmagnus @folkoftheair @lilyharvord @scarletbarrow @gansey-just-gansey @glossy-vanilla @thatoddgirl777 
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stardust-and-blades · 5 years
Text
Keith’s First Halloween
This is for the voltron games I’m participating in! Team: Red Lion Round: 1 Challenge: 3 with Shiro, Keith, and Adam
Summary: After finding out Keith hasn’t celebrated Halloween since the death of his father, Shiro and Adam invite him for some pumpkin carving and caramel apples! ----------------------------------
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“You’re kidnapping me. You’re kidnapping me and going to sell my organs on the black market, aren’t you?”
Shiro barks out a laugh, veering away from a slowing car ahead of them, but maintained hands on the wheel. Shiro is great at flying, but sometimes Keith questions how he got his license with all the risks he takes. “Patience yields focus, Keith. Relax, it is nothing bad.”
Keith quirks an eyebrow, but nonetheless allowed Shiro to take him to God knows where. Since his arrival at the garrison, he has been living there rather than the group home. His roommate wasn’t particularly fond of him, what with his bad temper and representation for being a discipline case. But it was better than where he was, an invisible boy unable to find a home. Unable to be seen by a family as worthy. The only person who ever truly loved him has left the land of the living, leaving Keith wishing the fire never occurred. That his father never ran back into the building, though he knew it was a selfish wish. A child is alive today because of him. As much as Keith wanted to keep his father, at least he died a hero. His hero.
Shiro glances at Keith, the sixteen year old looking out onto the road with a far off gaze. He is leaning on his right, arm propped up on the arm rest and a fist to his cheek. His usual stance when he is deep in thought. 
He didn’t say anything, but he knew what Keith was thinking. Most likely his father, maybe his future. It was only recently that Shiro found out Keith hasn’t celebrated halloween for awhile, what with the death of his father severely impacting his joy in holidays meant to spend with family or friends. Keith’s only family passed away, and as far as Shiro knows, he hasn’t been able to make any friends. Students and teachers of the school are weary of him. They believe he represents nothing but trouble, and the higher officials at the garrison severely question Shiro’s judgement. Iverson going so far as to say he made a mistake by bringing Mr. Hotshot to the school. 
What they didn’t understand was he is a kid. A child who felt abandoned and dysfunctional. 
And every kid deserves to have some happiness in their life, at the very least.
So, Shiro talked Adam over having Keith over, explaining his background and how excellent he is in the garrison flight simulator. Adam was skeptical at first--not of Keith being a good kid--but of him willingly coming over. Shiro has spent more time with him than Adam, who unfortunately had no classes with him and only passed by the kid every now and then, greeting them on sight and Keith waving silently as a means of respect. 
Despite Adam’s opinions, Shiro has a gut feeling this is what Keith needs. And who knows, maybe he will take a liking to Adam and the treats he has in store. --------
As they approach the house, Keith turns to him, confused.
“Um, is this your house?”
“Yup.”
“Uh...” He looks around, waiting for Shiro to continue, but received nothing. “What are we doing here?”
“We,” Shiro begins, reaching behind his seat and grabbing some plastic bags full of groceries he picked up earlier. “Are going to prepare for Halloween.”
Keith looks uncomfortable. “I don’t really celebrate halloween. Or any of the holidays, for that matter.”
“I’m aware,” Shiro said, leveling him with a kind look. “You mentioned it when we had lunch the other day. But we need a helping hand with the pumpkins.”
“We?”
“Yeah, me and Adam. He’s my--er--He’s my boyfriend.” Shiro can feel a blush creep on his cheeks. He neglected to tell Keith of his and Adam’s actual relationship. It wasn’t that he was ashamed, it’s just he totally spaced on the little tidbit. So much for making the kid less awkward.
Keith doesn’t blink, cocking his head to the side. “Professor Adam? Doesn’t he hate me along with the other instructors? You’re getting serious flack for getting me into the school.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. In fact, he was more concerned on if you would show. I told him about you. He is looking forward to getting to know you as both a pilot and person.”
“I still don’t think this is a good idea. You should just--”
“Nope!” Shiro interrupts, snatching a pumpkin in the back and plopping it on Keith’s lap. “You’re a kid, and kids should be having fun. Not brooding in their room at night while halloween is just around the corner.”
“I don’t brood.” Keith exclaims, his lip jutting out in a pout.
“Right, and I have white hair.” Shiro said, sarcastic. “Come on, up and at ‘em. And don’t even think about stealing the car. I have the keys wrapped around my fingers.”
------------------
It was a little awkward, Shiro admitted. As Keith lugged the largest pumpkin Shiro gave him and entered the house, Adam emerged from the kitchen to greet the two, kissing Shiro on the cheek. He smiled down at Keith, introducing himself and holding out a hand to the tiny boy. There was a moment of silence, Keith not used to friendliness outside of Shiro. He half expected Adam to pull Shiro aside, meaning to be out of ear shot so he could chastise Shiro for bringing the “problem” child in their home. But he just gazed down at Keith, soft brown eyes never breaking from the starstruck indigo. Not until his expression morphed into that of discomfort, not sure what to do since Keith wasn’t responding in any way.
As he lowered his hand, Keith shifted the pumpkin to one arm and on his hip, carefully reaching out to grasp Adam’s hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir. I’m Keith.”
Adam smiles, toothy and proud. “Please, call me Adam. I’m not one for formalities.” He motions to where the kitchen is. “Come along, I was getting the newspaper ready for the pumpkin carving.”
They followed Adam, Shiro’s boyfriend asking Keith many questions as they prepared and began to pumpkin carve. He stuck to his interests, avoiding any semblance of questions having to do with Keith’s past. Shiro had already informed him of the touchy subject and to approach it if Keith chose to open up. To which, he eventually did, mentioning how his dad was never good at carving pumpkins and sometimes burned the seeds when they would roast them for a horror night. It was a small tidbit he lent; a sliver of his childlike, nostalgic side, void of sadness and regret. As Adam asked if he was good at carving pumpkins, Keith gave a small smile and said he was, sometimes using the knife his father gave him. Shiro watched the two interact, a fond and loving smile gracing his lips as he forgot about his pumpkin and focused more on the two bonding.
Shiro hadn’t seen such a big smile since he taught Keith how to land the hoverbike perfectly from jumping off a cliff in the desert. His eyebrows raised, eyes dancing in the florescent lighting, galaxies and mirth erasing the secret darkness he held whenever he is seen. The child Shiro encountered in the classroom, the boy who sadly looked out the window and strayed from the other children, not bothering to line up for the simulator, was overtook by a sense of peace. Meanwhile Adam, who expressed anxiety over the young teen hating Shiro’s idea, ruffles the raven haired boy’s locks and joked about how Shiro does that all the time, eliciting a squawk from Shiro. 
“I burned them once! Once, Adam!”
“Once was enough to make sure you never touch an oven again.” He jokes, laughing as Shiro grumbled about being betrayed by his own lover.
Adam leans towards Keith, a hand coming to partially cover his mouth as if to tell him a secret. “He may be a pro at flying now, but he crashed the simulator three times in one go in our cadet days.”
“Don’t poison his mind with lies!”
“It isn’t a lie when history is true.” Adam counters, grinning. 
“Oooooo he got you there.” Keith joined. Shiro shook his head, dipping his hand in the orange fruit and flicking it on Keith’s nose.
“Respect your elders, kid.”
“You’re 24.” Adam stated, Keith wiping his nose on his sleeve and chucking a large pile of orange goop at Shiro. Suddenly the three were engaged in an all out pumpkin guts fight, streamers of fruit coating the kitchen and their clothes. they were all laughing, Keith and Adam teamed up against Shiro as they hid behind the table, whispering strategies as Shiro gunned for another chunk of seeds and squash. Before he could land a hit, he is pummeled by two flying chunky globs, one hitting his chest and the other his neck. He chucked the stash in his hand, landing a hit on Keith’s tiny head. The atmosphere, so used to the voices of two, range with the laughter of three. They ran around the small kitchen, their pumpkin war ending only when they ran out of fuel from the three pumpkins Shiro brought home.
They laid on the floor, tired from their food fight but letting out a couple of giggles every now and then. Shiro noted how the two were smiling so wide, he couldn’t help but smile himself. Yes, this is what Keith needed. A sense of being a kid. A sense of having a family, whether it was a mother and father, or a brother figure and his boyfriend. Keith’s walls were up, pure stone covering the tenderness of his bruised heart. But now, they were down. Keith’s heart was wide open, the burden of his past forgotten and filled with glee he hadn’t felt in years.
Adam stood up and began to clean up, announcing they will make some candy apples after they all scrubbed the place clean. Keith didn’t put up a fight, he really didn’t mind.  He was chivalrous in his cleaning, asking Adam and Shiro if he missed any places. 
He is a good kid. His problem lies in trusting others, in trusting the human race. But when he ignores the darkness of humanity, he is a quiet teen who wants to have fun and acknowledges when there is chores to be done. 
He isn’t a problem child. He just needs to be given a chance.
The night ended with Keith curled up in the couch, a half eaten caramel apple on the coffee table in their living room. Shiro gingerly lifted his head to place a plump pillow under his dark head, and Adam covered him in a red fleece blanket he had stashed in a closet. Tiny snores escaped Keith’s nose, his face in a state of peace and content.
Shiro doesn’t regret giving him a second chance in the least.
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twitchesandstitches · 5 years
Text
Kurak the War Demon Girl
Basic Concept: A sexy demon-themed monster girl who delights in endless battle and honorable battle, constantly seeking out one conflict after another. At times she creates them, working from the shadows and in a variety of mundane forms in order to steer nations or whole worlds to warfare, and when the time is right, she erupts into her true monstrous form to join the battle. When all the realms of existence battle, she will be most pleased.
Name: Kuruk Wrathblood
Appearance: In her mundane guises, she can adopt whatever form she pleases, or even any personality trait, as supernatural entities such as her regard mundane skills and traits as we would clothing, putting them on or off as needed. She often comes off as deeply, impossibly charming, with the curvaceous build of a high queen right out of a fairy tale. She generally appears as the most common local species, but there is always a sign of her true nature; holy symbols might glow at her passing, phantom war drums beat in the echoes of her laughter, or her fingers leave claw marks on solid surfaces. In her human forms, she generally chooses to become a hourglass-shaped Slavic woman.
In her true form, she most often manifests as a massive red-skinned humanoid, her hide leathery and studded in spikes of varying length; some are shorter, some are almost as like as full fledged spines. From her back sprouts a pair of massive draconic wings, and around her lashes a whiplike tail armed with a flaming thagomizer array of spikes. She is obviously built for warfare, with massive claws, the leg structure of a theropod dinosaur, and a bloodthirsty expression. Her face often expressions as human-like these days, huge horns sprouting from her forehead and long energy tendrils for hair. Typically amazonian in build, she tends to manifest massive hips and breasts in proportion to how much conflict she has sowed in an area.
Note that her size can change tremendously; she can be as small as six feet to about 30 without any power boost from conflict, but in active war zones, she can become hundreds of feet tall. She at least has once reached planet-sized when she instigated an interstellar war. In theory, there is no limit to her size; certainly at that point, her breasts were bigger than the planets in question.
Age: Incalculable. There is some evidence she has always existed, in one form or another as a primordial entity of conflict. Her current state dates back to some time before the cataclysm that wracked the multiverse; she invariably gives different questions if asked.
Backstory: Kuruk’s story is one of bloodshed, violence for the sake of itself, and a pursuit of martial honor. It is difficult to say where, precisely, this started, as accounts of a charismatic woman who sowed the seeds of warfare and erupted into the form of a triumphant demon have been found carved into stone ruins of lost precursor empires so old they don’t even have names known anymore.
It does appear that while she is a demon and happily refers to herself by that name, she is not a fiend and is rather touchy about the distinction. Fiends are, specifically, elementals of the concept of evil while she appears to be an emanation of the primordial notion of conflict as its own abstract force. What she is, exactly, is unclear, but some have speculated that she is a living embodiment of the idea of martial honor in warfare, whether or not there is such a thing.
As such a being, she has no real beginning, but it seems that in ancient times, there was an entity of honorable battle that rather fits her description. As destructive warfare spread throughout the multiverse, she became more and more powerful, drawing greater influence and authority from the energies of battle throughout existence. However, she grew displeased at the spread of impersonal forms of warfare, such as the spread of space naval armadas and destroying planets with bombings and other forms with little personal involvement by soldiers. While this did empower her and other such beings, she sorely disliked it as offensive to her sensibilities. Following the cataclysms that did so much damage to the multiverse, she apparently took to taking on mortal forms to intervene in rebuilding societies, enacting very long-term schemes to prevent such impersonal forms of warfare from happening again. Not for altruistic reasons, at least openly, but because she craved a return to bloody battles and armies marching or rolling in person.
She has hidden or locked away technologies that she views anathema to her personal view of warfare; the keys to targeting solutions, ways to manufacture reliable long-distance bombing weaponry, and the technologies required to produce weapons of mass destruction have all been hidden away from her. Not destroyed but hidden within her sanctum deep within distant realms, far from her hoards of famous weapons and blood-soaked bullets.
At some point during this attempt to make the multiverse’s battles more to her liking - a project so successful that most of the multiverse practices old fashioned warfare, albeit with much more deadly weaponry - she discovered a great fondness for manipulation and planning, and decided to start applying this newfound talent to spreading her domain.
For a long time, by her reckoning, she has gone from world to world, adopting a mundane appearance and taking up schemes to start up wars, all to feed herself. These plans can take a long time indeed, many hundreds of years of them, millions of individual schemes across countless worlds, but she enjoys the anticipation. She seduces some, becomes a leader in others, or a trusted advisor, and gently steers the world closer to a point where armed battle is the only option.
It’s unclear what her long-term purpose is. It may simply be her role to thirst for battle, for she survives this way. But some speculate that she intends to become a full-fledged goddess of martial honor this way, by feeding on so much war that she becomes bigger than the universe and expands into godhood, or can challenge a Hell-god and claim their role entirely.
Personality: When she must blend in and sway people to do her bidding and breed the battle she craves, she adopts whatever personality she requires to get the job done. Calm and soothing, authoritative and stern, fearsome and attracting loyalty; she takes on whatever mannerisms are required and thus, if you are not familiar with her tells - or have already met her in her true form, which allows you to instantly see through her guises - it can be impossible to make her out.
While she can take on whatever personality traits are required, she typically has a bombastic, extremely extroverted and hammy personality when she drops her disguises. She is like an affable warlord; intensely charismatic, LOUD, and tending towards super dramatic gestures. She’s certainly rather boorish, with a bit of a low sense of humor and a delight in dark comedy. She leans towards teasing behavior in her true form, using her tail to smack her backside or breasts just to punctuate a point or to make someone nervous.
With no real sense of personal space, she enjoys getting right around someone else, often leaping onto them in gestures of affection or friendliness, should she feel inclined. This extends to the rest of her mannerisms. She favors loud, dramatic gestures without much concern for their impact on people, and she often comes off as rude, or at least distastefully loud. Making arm gestures so broad they knock someone down, carelessly toppling a building with an errant swipe of her tail, sitting down and smashing the odd country… she’s often indifferent to the chaos she spreads.
That said, she is not genuinely malevolent despite being an embodiment of war. After all, she embodies honor in personal combat, not mindless destruction or slaughter. For the same reasons she detests impersonal weaponry, she also prefers fair play and, when it comes down to it, she is rather honest outside of her schemes. She might smash a city on accident, but she wouldn’t deprive it of an opportunity to fight back, even if they have no ability to truly hurt her.
She greatly appreciates those who shows valor, and has attracted a large army of immortal warriors sworn to her service after winning her favor through great feats of courage or honor; it may be possible to gain power by being impressive enough, though she might align things so you wind up in constant fights just because she thinks she’s doing you a favor.
She is surprisingly affectionate with the ones she likes, in a boisterous, girl bully way; she doesn’t give smooches generally but she might noogie you and hug you with a headlock.
Species: Demon; spiritual conglomerate and personification
Fandom: Original character, loosely inspired by Khornate daemons from Warhammer 40k
Abilities: She is, in any form, tremendously charismatic, bordering on mind control or compelling voice. To hear her speak is to be swayed by her, and she can almost effortlessly dominate others but, and this is a point here, in proportion to how likely they would be aggressive or warlike without her influence. A peacefully minded or neutral person would be unlikely to be swayed much by her, while a warhawk is almost certainly going to do as she says on the spot, to the point of rephrasing anything they say to fit her commands.
Even in her disguised forms, she’s incredibly strong and fast. She becomes stronger as conflict increases around her, to the point of being able to tear through tanks or smash through buildings while in a normal fight. In her true form, she is far stronger, effectively has super speed and agility, and ludicrously hard to take on in a straight fight. If you fight her according to her favorite forms of battle, however, she becomes not weaker but she does limit herself deliberately in order to fight on an even keel.
Her abilities are not terribly fancy; she is strong, fast and tough, but to ludicrous extremes. She can also summon forth weapons, not creating them but directly calling them from her sanctum. This includes a very wide range of legendary relics and tool with their own unique abilities, virtually every model of weapon ever designed so she can just spam you with stabby bits, and a nearly infinite amount of ammunition for firearm-type weaponry. She can also control them telekinetically, summoning them in masses to tear at foes in literal steel rain.
As she grows to her strongest from enough conflict to grow giant-sized, her power scales up to match her size, and she becomes almost indestructible in direct combat; presumably only the mightiest summons, fusions or gods could possibly pose a threat to her in this state; she is so fast that she can essentially teleport wherever she pleases, strong enough to throw planet with a tap of her finger, and can perform similar feats with ease.
Finally, she has access to a wide variety of magic themed around weaponry, physical prowess and warfare in an abstract sense, but generally prefers not to do so. She is capable, however, of extending her power into military unit to fight on her behalf, making them more powerful and giving them a share of her own immense strength.
She is fully capable of flight, knows a wide variety of ancient magic even if she has little interest in using it, and can perform the other abilities common to spirit entities, such as possession. Take note that any instance of her in the mortal realm is but an avatar, far less powerful than her true self, and defeating her is likely to just get her interest, which is the start of your troubles.
Height: Varies. At base, she’s six feet tall, growing bigger to suit the species she is disguised as, and uses that as her base in demon form. She has no limits on upper size, and can grow anywhere from over 30 feet to universal-sized, but it requires an appropriate level of local conflict to do so. In her true form in the spirit realms, her size is incomprehensible for mortals to even see more than one bit of her at a time, being FAR larger than a single universe in the more flexible realms there.
Relationships: She has a complicated set of rivalries with many war gods, spirits of valor or warfare, and demons of all kinds of connections to bloodshed. Generally to her they are rivals, though she doesn’t view them as competitors; conflict and belief are not limited resources, after all. For the most part, these are close to friendships with the more heroic gods, though they dislike her indifference. She outright detests most fiends in her line of work, but tends to be something of a mom-friend and spirited competitor to other beings like herself; those that are considered demons without actually being of an evil nature.
She is fond of warrior mortals and heroes of the more physical kind, though she doesn’t necessarily understand why they battle and strive, only that they do. She tends to ‘help’ them in their own way, which contributes their the lives being full of chaotic adventure and constant attacks from monsters, all the better to prove themselves.
She strongly dislikes anyone whose work interferes with the spread of honorable battle, specifically those who would create methods of battle that go against her preferred methods of conflict. Bomb makers, those who devise WMDs, and others that fight ‘unfairly’, in her view, tend to earn her ire. She is indifferent to peacemakers, viewing them as one views individual flowers.
She collects giant monsters as pets and soldiers, sending them out on her behalf or just for her own amusement. She sorely dislikes it when heroes kill them constantly, and those who make a living out of hunting giant monsters are likely to earn her wrath.
Pred Level: Mid-average. While it’s not her first option, she might well enjoy doing such a thing, in the sense of pitting someone against her belly acids, which is more akin to spiritual lava in any case.
Prey Level: Low. A heroine could devour her, but it would have to be an obscenely powerful one capable of devouring a high level arch demoness; most anyone who tried would likely not survive. A goddess or other demon, on the other hand, could probably devour her if on the same level of power at least, but she really hates being bested in so total a manner.
Relevant Kink Material: Amazon stuff. Hyper giantess, of course. Super-big boobs, hips and butt. Monster girl stuff, with the demonic aspects. As a whole she is more meant as an antagonist and greater ‘man behind the man’ type of character, but she is a super curvy, gorgeous demon lady!
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burntbellflower · 6 years
Text
You’re My End
Summary: George takes care of you after a long night at a party and you start to warm up to him. 
Pairing: George Weasley x Reader
Word Count: 1365
Warnings: None
“You’re acting strange, are you sure you’re alright?” The voice sounded very far away even though the person saying it was right next to you. It didn't make any sense. You laughed at this.
George Weasley lay the backside of his hand on your forehead. "You’re not hot."
"Really? Cause you sure are," you chuckle.
George's eyes widen and he picks you up bridal style from the bench you were sitting on. "You are definitely not well."
Scenery flashes by, glimpses of grey stone, wooden doors and damp night grass fill the next few seconds of your vision. Or hours. You didn't really know nor care. You chuckled again.
Suddenly, you felt comforting soft sheets underneath you. You let your muscles relax into the bed, before realizing that you completely forgot to do your assignment.
You got up quickly - well as quickly as you possibly could, right then your legs were as if they were made of jelly, and you sort of fumbled out of the bed. George looked back to you from talking to Madam Pomfrey.
"Get back in bed, Y/N,” he says walking to you.
"But I have an assignment due," you protest. Your eyes droop down a bit, but you open them as wide as possible.
"That doesn't matter right now. Just get back into bed and everything will be alright."
"I sure hope so," you say before closing your eyes fully and falling back into nothing.
You start to gain consciousness and open your eyes for a split second. Bright white lights blind you and you shut your eyes. Trying to remember what happened the night before, you clench your eyes.
The Gryffindor party celebrating the Quidditch win; Shots and chugs of Firewhiskey; George laying you on a bench in the hallway beside the Fat Lady. All these memories flash by, even though you were surprised you remembered anything at all.
George. You sit up abruptly, wide eyed and frantically look around the room. There's a pounding in your head and crumple back into bed, your middle finger and thumb wrapped around your temple.
Madame Pomfrey quickly rushed to your side. "How are you feeling dear?" she asks in a soothing voice. Her cool palm meets your forehead and you sigh from the pleasure of the cold. "Your temperature is a bit high. But with a bit more rest you'll be-"
What you would be, you never found out, as you had interrupted her mid sentence, by leaning over the the edge of the bed and throwing up all over the tiled floor. "Oh my," Madame Pomfrey says. She quickly gets up and charms a mop from her office to the side of the bed, making it clean up the mess.
"Where's George?" you manage to croak, as Madame pomfrey comes back with a glass of water.
"He's at his classes. He said 'I'm in as much trouble all ready. I don't want to get even more detentions for being late.' He'll be back when they're over."
Your thoughts were muffled by the aching pound in your head and sour taste of leftover vomit, but knowing that George would be there soon made you relax a bit more. Even before Madam Pomfrey gave you the resting potion your eyes had dropped down and you mind was slipping into calm.
"Y/N. Y/N wake up."
Your eyes flutter open to the sight of George Weasley's face above you. "Madam Pomfrey says your allowed to go now."
You groan and turn to the other side, trying to avoid getting up.
You are stripped of your warm blanket and the cold makes you shudder. "Come on. I made sure Hermione would tell the Professors about you. Your assignment due date has been extended by two days."
"Give me back my blanket," you demand, huddling into fetal position, trying to grasp some warmth.
"Not unless you get up."
"Is that supposed to be blackmail?"
"Yes. Now get up, or I'll make you get up."
You roll over and fall out of the bed. "Ow," you moan. George helps you up and you rub your elbow which had taken a hit at the metal part of the bed.
George starts chuckling. You glare at him, "This isn't funny."
"It really is," he replies. George tries to keep his composure, but he ends up laughing all over again.
You ignore him and walk over to Madam Pomfrey, thanking her before you walk out of the Infirmary and onto the damp grass of the Quidditch field.
A pair of feet crunch the grass quickly behind you.
"Y/N," George pants. "Y/N, I'm sorry."
You turn around with you arms crossed. "I don't see a reason to be sorry. I was touchy for a second. It's not your fault."
"But I'm still sorry."
"Okay."
George leans in close and just as his lips are about to meet yours he wraps his arms you. You keep your arms by your side but nuzzle your head onto the small space between his shoulder and neck.
"I forgot your blanket." his voice softly breaks the comfortable silence that could have lasted hours. You break away from the embrace and start walking towards the school.
"That's okay. I'm not that cold." As if on cue, a cold breeze ruffles your clothes and you shudder.
George takes of his sweater and wraps it around your shoulders. You instantly feel warmer and shivers run down your spine from the smell of his cologne coming off you.
"Thanks," you mutter and turn to look at him. George catches your gaze and smiles at you. Your heart flutters and you feel heat rise up to your cheeks.
You continue the walk in silence, occasionally taking side glances at George to make sure this was really happening.
"You know that night?" George asks, keeping his eyes on his piece of parchment.
You look up. "Yeah?" You always called the night before you went to the Infirmary for your hangover 'that night.'
"The reason I took you away from the party was because," he sucks in a long breath, "I saw you snogging McLaggen. And I was so," he pauses, "so jealous. He pinned you against the wall and was all over you. Your fingers were in his hair and your legs were wrapped around his waist." You watch as a tear rolls down your boyfriend's cheek and stains his parchment.
“George," you begin but he continues.
"Even though I barely knew you, even though it shouldn't have bothered me, it did. I tried to look away, but I couldn't. I kept watching until he was about to lead you up to the boys dormitories. I knew what was going to happen. So I had to." George's voice cracks and he looks up at you for the first time since he began talking about that night. His eyes were red and puffy and just looking into them shattered your heart into about a million pieces. "I had to stop it."
"George," you say, holding his face in your palms. "Why didn't you tell me?"
He looks away. "I don't know."
You press your lips against his. You use your thumb to wipe away the tears from his wet eyelashes. His hands slowly travel from your waist to your hips, as if he was using them to carve your curves.
You break away to swallow in some air. "George," you breathe out. "George, why didn't you tell me?"
"I was afraid." George admits. "Afraid that you would think I was some freak instead of the 'knight in shining armor' pedestal you've put me on. I loved someone thinking that I had saved them from a horrible hangover, even though the thing I did was out of pure jealousy. I was afraid that if I told you, you would take me off the pedestal and I wouldn't be special to anyone."
“You are special. You're special to me, if I think of you as a knight in shining armor or not."
"Y/N?"
"Yes?"
"I think your my end."
"What?" you lean back, surprised by the sudden blurt of honesty.
"I always knew it would happen. Sometimes thinking about you makes my heart fly and sometimes it makes my stomach sink. I know it would be a long process to get to you and my life would be a rollercoaster of ups and downs before you until you would complete my life."
"I think you're my end too."
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The week of Part 2
So why didn't I ask prior?
now it would've made sense to ask about the possibility of kissing or possibly more when I asked if she could stay over right? except for the fact that even though I was very much interested in this girl, I didn't expect anything to happen between us, this was only the second time seeing her in person( the first time was only for 15mins) and maybe also because I'm not used to people being interested back? I'm not conventionally attractive and I've never been the type for people to have crushes on me, so the idea of someone I've just met wanting to kiss me is rather foreign.
your next question why didn't you ask after you realised things were starting to progress? I wish I could say I knew he wouldn't have seen the message until 9am anyway, but I in the simplest terms forgot. I was so in that moment of space and time forgot I needed to ask permission.
So we kissed and god I forgot how good kissing like this felt. We began to make out, trailing kisses down each other's necks, tugging on hair, some light choking, spanking, she pulls me closer in order to straddle her, and as she bucks her hips I remember some important details that I need to tell her if things are going to move any further.
1. I'm AFAB and all 2 of my previous sexual partners have also been AFAB and so I have no experience with AMAB bodies (other than many, many fanfictions)
2. I have Vaginismus, a medical condition that basically means it hurts like a mother fucker to have anything inside of me (hence being a top with my previous partners)
firstly, she was incredibly patient and respectful with me, holy shit that's hot. Secondly, my previous experience with telling someone who wants to fuck you 'i can't have anything inside me' hasn't gone well. My first partner decided that that meant they couldn't touch me whatsoever and other than eating me out once and deciding they hate it, we spent the rest of the relationship with me as a stone top. Partner no.2 the boyfriend, at the start of the relationship he happily ate me out( avoiding any penetration) and it was quite 50/50, however over the course of the relationship it eventually became 0/100 as I once again became the top instead of a switch.
Now upon learning this information she tells me we don't have to go any further if I don't want to. we go back to chatting, with the occasional make-out sprinkled in, the conversation would occasionally turn sexual, for example, my body count of 2 vs hers in the 70's, she is almost 100% top and a soft dom, and that there are about 25 pressure points on the AFAB body that enhance the orgasm.
of course, I was curious and she sighed and said "I could show you better than I could explain" looking me up and down " if you'll let me" who gave her the right to be that damn smooth like tf? and Jesus Christ it's been so long since someone has offered. I, thinking it will deter her and explain my hesitation, let her know I haven't shaved in a really long time as I've not really gotten any attention for quite a long time.
She doesn't mind. Oh great, the girl I want to fuck wants me and I can't find a reason to say no (again I for the life of me forgot I was yet to still get permission off my boyfriend) and so she proceeds to eat me out so well and so thoroughly that I understand why lesbians are better.
the next day we're hanging out and my boyfriend comes home he's confused as to why I'm not at work and I explained how my stomach was too bad and I proceede to introduce them, and they get on like a house on fire, we sesh and the two of them are bonding over smoking, tattoos, various topics and I now a little stoned think, this is great that they get along, our roommate (my uni friend) comes home and joins us and they all seem to get along pretty well.
I procede to do her makeup before work as I had promised earlier that morning, now i dont know what conversation may have happened between my boyfriend any our roommate but I realise there must've been. Anyways, we say goodbye and the girl goes to work and the 3 of us have dinner and watch the newest episode of a tv show the 3 of us have been watching together. My boyfriend now in a strange mood, goes to bed early, at first I dont notice I assume he's gone to grab his phone as it was on charge. My roommate tells me she gets strange vibes from this girl and was a little uncomfortable, I think oh ok maybe she's a bit much for her (this girl has quite a large personality and my roommate tends to be more subdued)
then her voice drops and asks me if she and I did anything I say sorry?what? and she procedes to explain we seemed quite affectionate and touchy (she wasn't wrong but the thing with me is as long as they are ok with it I'm rather affectionate with all of my friends) I remind her of that and she asks if my boyfriend knows that (which of course he knows I'm affectionate with everybody we'd been together for over a year and a half)
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