#I mean it when I say not a soul better contact me when this releases

[cypherscript]

In Bad Taste Part 2

"Four feet?!" The entirety of the league at the meeting is up on their feet. "Why so fast?"

"Do you have any pictures of the orb or the bodies? Were they dead," Batman asks as he pulls up the location of the League's hideout via a satellite trying to gain visual of what she was talking about.

"All but one. Why did you send Hood? I thought he was on your no go list."

"Hood's been getting better, he was the most logical one to infiltrate the League; he was already in good graces with them when Talia used the pits to bring him back. Being on my no go list made it seem like he was no longer associated with me. I have visual, why did they have the orb out in the middle of the courtyard?"

"I have some footage of the scene, they appeared to have been trying to cast some kind of spell to link the orb with other locations or maybe to expand its radius of effect. It's not completed," Zatanna places a device into a port on the table and pictures of a large magic circle surrounds the larger orb. The next few pictures were of the corpses lined up, some of the faces looking familiar to Bruce.

"So Ras is gone then, that's the man right there."

"So it appears," Zatanna agrees, switching the screen to one of the orb, with it being so big now details not seen are clear.

Superman looks at the picture closely, "Is it just me or does that look like a a bunch of stars?"

Batman says nothing as he runs the image through multiple star charting programs, "You're correct, Superman. I'm getting multiple confirmations; Perseus-Pisces, Pisces-Cetus, Ursa Major, the Centaurus Cluster, The Milky Way, Sto-Oa, Rao. It keeps going, it shows to be every star in our sky as well."

"Rao," Superman asks, looking for the familiar star by its formation. "How old is this thing?"

"We should contact Hal and the lanterns to let them know. This could be one of theirs or maybe the Guardians know what it is?"

"I'm sending the message now," Batman types away at the keypad, "While we wait for them I'm going to check on Hood."

"We'll come with you," Diana says as Bruce moves the files to his personal device.

"Do as you wish. Zatanna bring in Constantine, we may need his help."

***

The Justice League have arrived at the compound just thirty minutes later and it is swarming with more assassins and goons. Talia's there giving orders, "Remember! Squad D, do not go near the artifact! Everyone else is fine to approach, I want this circle destroyed post haste!"

Batman had snuck his way into their camp and put Talia in a hold, "Why are you here, Talia?"

"Br-" Batman tightens his hold painfully, "Batman, I suppose you're here for Jason?"

"Where is he?!"

"He's safe, you don't want to see him right now. He's back to the way he was when I first found him. It's not a pretty sight."

"Fine, what's with the orb then? You didn't answer my question, I know your father is dead, why are you here?"

"Same reason you are I suppose, I'm putting a stop to father's plans for this artifact. He planned on linking it with every Lazarus Pit on the planet, he believed this to be the heart of the god who made the pits and wished to bring it back. To bad for him he didn't know what I now know; it's not just the Lazarus waters it's absorbing, it's also draining the energy from those who have died and come back via other means. It hasn't killed anyone yet, just makes them unable to move until they're removed from its radius."

Batman releases her and taps his comms, "Batman reporting in, stay away from the compound."

Superman's comms respond, "I heard, I was able to pull myself back before I couldn't move. Felt like the life of me was being drained. Zatanna and Constantine seem to be fine, Wonder Woman says it feels like hades is staring into her soul from here."

"It feels like it's looking at me," Shazam pipes in.

"Noted, fill them in on what's going on. We need some league members who haven't been resurrected before. Let Talia's men destroy the circle then we can figure out a way to get it off the planet and away from the pits."

"Well aren't you the lucky lot," Hal's voice comes in over their comms, "Calvary's here. I can get it off planet for you."

______________________________________________

And there we go, part 2 like I promised. Also you were close @victoria-has-no-secret but it's ALL of the people who've been resurrected not just the pits. mwahahaha Now to get the tag list out of the way. hope I'm doing this right... As I was typing this up, it seemed like I made the Orb sound like an SCP... hmm, thoughts for future works.

@mnemovoid @may-rbi @cugzarui @ekatkit @farmercale @blackroserelina @justwannabecat @dragonborne-writer @aikoiya @chrysanthemum9484

#danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dc x dp #justice league #full ghost danny #the observants are totes dead #superman #batman #wonder woman #zatanna #green lantern #shazam #ghost king au #danny fenton #fanfiction #hey i promised #story

[ch3rryb1ss]

Riding Obanai’s thigh

(warnings:Punishment, choking, spitting, degradation, Slapping if you squint, Penetration, Thigh riding, Obanai being mean, Dirty talk, squirting, Fem reader, Dom Obanai, Breeding kink if you look hard enough)

The springs on the bed creaked in protest as Obanai sat on the bed patting his thighs for you to sit. “Sit down…” your eyes rolled a little, but you did what was asked of you. Obanai’s warm veiny hand ran over the natural curve of your back. You were angry at him for being rough on you during training. In his defense, he told you it would be hard so why were you mad? It made little sense to him, but he decided not to piss you off anymore. At least at the moment. “Why must you be an asshole?” That turned his gears a lot! He tried not to let his anger get the best of him, but you weren't helping.

For that reason you were now completely bare your wet core grinding against his hard muscled thigh. A few complaints ripped out of your lips, but once his hand came around your throat you shut up.”I told you to shut that fuckin’ slutty mouth of yours. I’ll shove my cock down your throat next time.” You couldn't even cum from this! But you knew better than to complain about this type of thing during your punishment. You left a wet trail in your wake as you tried to satisfy yourself. “Awww, poor baby can't get herself to come?” You shook your head knowing he was being sarcastic. “You want help with that?” Obanai asked releasing your throat. You nodded avoiding eye contact with him, but no he wasn't gonna have that. He decided that if you didn't want to look at him while he was fucking your soul into oblivion. He'd stop “Say please first…You don't get to make demands here” you huffed at first but eventually listened.

“Please Obanai…” He rolled his eyes. What do you expect from a sassy man anyway? “What are asking for? You know better than this.” That made you even more frustrated but you listened to him “Please can you fuck me” The thought of finally getting his cock made you even wetter. He nodded palming his cock through his boxers you had even forgotten he had nothing except for that on. He just took the fabric off of himself now completely nude. He pinned you on the bed with no warning, “Fucking slut…” He didn't bother easing himself in just one thrust he entered leaving you to deal with it. He knew his way around your body, he knew all those sweet spots. He didn't need to be guided the head of his girthy length teasing that one spot. Before he roughly pounds into you. The springs of the bed protesting against his roughness with a few squeaks. To keep you quiet his fingers were shaved into that pretty little mouth of yours to gag you. “Fucking slut…You thought I'd let you moan like a bitch in heat” you hated being degraded, but you loved it too.

He continued to rut into you pulling his fingers out of your mouth to spit in there. You happily swallowed it though, “You little whore…You love it when I spit on you don't you?” He asked one of his hands squeezing your hip with a bruising grip.”You love being treated like a bitch don't you? Say it!” Obanai demanded feing your gummy walls tighten against his length. He heard a little whimper escape your lips “I'm waiting…” he landed a harsh slap on your cheek not enough to hurt you,but enough to make you talk. “I l-love b-being t-treated l-like a b-bitch” you stammered. Which satisfied Obanai who smirked under his facial bandages. “Good little whore…” he kept snapping his hips against yours until you squirted all over him. “You seemed to like that, You really are a fucking slut” he finally let out a groan his thrusts getting sloppier. He shot his seed into you wanting to fuck it into your tight little hole but he decided you been through enough. “I should fuxk my cum back into you…Then everybody would know you’ve fucked somebody with such dirty blood. You’d probably like that a lot”

___________________________________

That's it I’m fucking tired 😔

(NOT proof read)

#demon slayer #kimetsu obanai #obanai #obanai iguro #obanai smut #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer smut #kny iguro #demon slayer obanai #smut

[blackjackkent]

OK. So, obviously that was a pretty upsetting experience for Hector, but it does finish up (as near as I can tell) everything we can do on the main floor of Moonrise Towers, so it's time to go upstairs and see what Z'rell wants to talk to us about.

This is a bit nervewracking because we overheard some of the Absolute guards talking about how Z'rell has been summoning a lot of True Souls up to her office lately, and none of them have come back down. So there's reason to believe this might be a dangerous prospect.

(Amusingly - mechanically, Hector still has a dislocated shoulder; from a story perspective I assumed Shadowheart probably healed it up already but I can't figure out how to make it go away in-game without a long rest so it's just kind of there for right now.)

Going upstairs, we find Z'rell setting guards around the door to the roof, where apparently General Thorm is doing some meditative shit or other.

"Excellent timing, True Soul."

She meets Hector's gaze with a casual smirk. There's an air of cool violence about her that is quite unsettling; even more than many of the cultists here, she seems as if she would be happy to lash out at him given half a chance.

"The goblins," she goes on eagerly. "Tell me how they suffered - or better yet, show me."

Narrator: Her mind enters yours abruptly, flickering across your memories in a blaze of excitement. She sees the goblins walking free, and a burning rage fans across your mind like wildfire.

Inwardly, Hector braces himself. He knew this was coming. The prisoners he released - he'll have to account for them somehow. He somehow didn't fully expect, though, quite the extent to which Z'rell's expression has hardened with pure fury at being denied the moment of sadism.

"Explain yourself!" she snaps.

Hector is very tired and really not in the mood to deal with someone who takes pleasure in others' pain to that degree - but the cover must be maintained. So with an effort of will, he remains perfectly still and resists the urge to fidget under her stare. [PERSUASION] "They won't get far," he says, affecting an air of casual disinterest. "Let the curse take them, and save us the job of cleaning up their innards."

A pause. The disciple sneers. "Very pragmatic. But very boring."

Hector starts to relax, seeing that his story has been accepted, but the ordeal is not yet over. "Let's see if there's *anything* interesting in that brain of yours."

Before Hector can fully register what she means, she is inside his mind.

Narrator: She parts the folds of your mind again, touching your wants and hopes. Tasting them. Every emotion soaks into her mind's palate, but there is purpose to her exploration - she is searching for proof of your faith.

Hector shudders at the feeling of her slipping through his thoughts. It's a tremendous violation that these people do so casually, but he cannot show his distaste without giving away the flimsy disguise that is all that keeps them safe here.

And proof of his faith...she will find plenty of proof there, but not the faith she wants. If she is allowed to explore too long, she will find his faith in Selune, as bright as the moonlight that still exists somewhere beyond this dark and awful place.

Focus. Show her only what you want her to see.

[MONK] Empty your mind. Show her a perfect, harmonious soul.

No sign of Selune within him. But not quite deception - no sign of the Absolute either. Balance. Serenity. Peace.

"When you are in harmony, you need fear nothing at all," one of the other monks told him once, early in his training. "For then your path will be unburdened by those who would see you unbalanced."

Narrator: You feel her grasp within your thoughts for familiar, roiling zealotry. It finds no purchase.

Z'rell blinks, drawing back; he feels her grip withdraw from within his mind and allows himself to tremble inwardly with relief. He feels dirty, marred by this contact, and wishes he could express the disgust that he feels.

"Simply...void," she murmurs, and she sounds legitimately perplexed, the sadistic glee for a moment gone in favor of simple confusion. "Why would you not embrace her? Worship her?"

A pause, and then she goes on, with renewed energy, "I have already been blessed to stand in Her presence. It was bliss." She stabs a finger towards his chest. "She gave me *everything* I wanted."

It's almost accusing, the way she looks at him. The calm and serenity that he showed her was not enough. She wants to see him caught in the web and does not understand the purpose of resistance.

"Everything?" Hector asks carefully. "What exactly do you want?" All the better to keep the conversation off of him and on her as much as possible - both for information and to avoid those questing fingers through his mind again.

Her eyes brighten with eager, hungry zealotry. "To take without asking, to feel without doubting, and to kill without consequence. In a word - freedom."

Hector swallows uncomfortably. He had expected at least a veneer of some more palatable assertion - unity or something like that. Not this unbridled cruelty without measure, completely unmasked.

"That's a little abstract," he says vaguely, trying to maintain his sense of calm with a little more effort now. "Show me something real."

Her eyes light as if she has never received a happier request.

"Oh, why not? What's the point in power if you don't get to have a little fun every now and again?" There is a brief moment in which Hector has time to realize that he made a grave mistake by phrasing his comment the way he did. Then she claps her hands together and a flash of light flickers between them.

"She gave me the power to cut the thread of life with a thought..." she murmurs, rapturous - and without warning, without even a sound, the ogre standing behind her throws her head back...and dies, blood spurting from every orifice of her face.

Hector stares down at the corpse, then back up at Z'rell wordlessly. He hopes his stunned silence will be taken for awe, rather than the fact that he is feeling suddenly sick to his stomach.

Thorm invulnerable. This woman killing with a snap of her fingers. How do we fight a force like this? How is it possible?

To his muted relief, Z'rell smiles.

"But I can caress as well as cut," she murmurs with a horrible sort of sweetness. "That's why you should stay on my good side." She reaches out, taps a clawed finger against his cheek. "And the best way to do that is to serve General Thorm. I have a mission for you."

All Hector wants to do is run from the room and never see this woman, or Thorm, or any of these people ever again. But that choice is not on the table. He focuses for a moment on Karlach's presence at his side, his other companions behind him. The dream guardian whispers in his mind, "That's it - play along. The closer you can get to the General, the closer you'll be to the answers you seek."

Calm. Find the center, two beats to the breath. He inhales slowly, lets it out heavily. "I live to serve," he says evenly. "What do I need to do?"

"There is a relic that General Thorm requires," Z'rell says briskly, all business now. "He sent his most trusted advisor, Disciple Balthazar, to retrieve it. The relic is beneath the Thorm family mausoleum. That is where you will find Balthazar. But we have lost contact with him - go there, aid Balthazar if you can, and bring the relic home."

Ah. He feels on slightly firmer ground now; they know of Balthazar already - and, in fact, already agreed to help him. "What exactly was this relic he was sent to retrieve?" Hector asks curiously, hoping to draw from her some of the answers he was not able to get from the necromancer.

"It is something that General Thorm desires, and that he ordered us to retrieve," she says curtly. "That is all you need know."

Narrator: [INSIGHT] She's suddenly nervous - on edge. Talking about the relic makes her anxious.

Hector hesitates - then presses. There will never be a better time than this to ask. [PERSUASION] "Talking of this relic makes you anxious," he says carefully. "Why is that?"

She too hesitates - and when she speaks again it is with more sincerity than he has seen from her thus far. "I am in awe of the power the relic must hold to be of such importance," she admits. "General Thorm will not leave Moonrise without it."

Hector senses a stir of unease through his companions. He shares it. What lies unsaid in Z'rell's words is that when the relic is found, Thorm will have no reason to stay at Moonrise. And the only possible reason for that...is that he will be ready to move on Baldur's Gate.

"I already met Balthazar," Hector says.

Her eyes flash. "Then he must have failed to make the urgency of his mission clear. I do not want to see you again until the relic is secure at Moonrise."

Well, thinks Hector, I don't want to see you again ever, so we're at least agreed on that.

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #whoo boy these are some unpleasant people #can't wait until we get to smack them dramatically somehow

[anxiousocdturtle93]

Day 18: Partners, SH, Work, ED and Mental

At least he can see what a horrible human being I am. What a fuck up I actual am and maybe now he will want to break off the engagement. Why can’t I do it? Because I still love him and I don’t want him going back to where he was before.

But then he’s in trouble. At least with his mother he is safe and she can help him. Here he’s in more danger probably with me due to my temper.

I hope he realizes I’m worse than his mother. I am worse than she is. I know I am. She may not realize she called me out on old SH scars and tell me it looks like I was stressed because she could tell. Or make a comment about how I don’t eat or how slow I eat. But all the attention has to be on me. I am the toxic one. At least I admit it.

Why are you toxic?

Well, according to this, from google, you’d have to be dishonest, manipulative, competitive, judgemental, gaslighting, have some sort of jealousy, selfishness, disrespecting boundaries and be abusive.

Mhmm…yeah. I am pretty sure I am manipulative, jealousy for sure, I’m selfish, judgemental, and abusive. Now, I don’t hit my partner but I am emotionally and mentally abusive. I’m selfish—things have to be on me. Things have to go my way. I know I’m manipulative in there and shit I most likely gaslight. I dunno. I probably should reach out to my ex and have him find out what he said. Poor lad dated me for 5 years. He should know what a fucking pathetic loser I am. And no, I am not saying that for attention. I know im a pathetic loser.

I do not deserve love in any shape way or form. I had an ex tell me that I get joy in watching men suffer and even though my therapist told me “no no that’s not the case,” I do believe he is right. Maybe I do enjoy men suffer with a broken heart. Oh look there’s your selfishness.

If I had enough courage I would love to just off myself. But here I am sitting with a hammer, smacking my leg hoping I get a bruise. And if not, well then I guess I have to find another way. I have to punish myself some way. Because you know, that’s what the whore deserves. Actually, being stoned or stoning to death would be a better thing. Most likely going to c*t too. That always releases anger and hatred. Mental health is an absolute joy, don’t you think?

Okay, so where have I come to this conclusion. I mean obviously I am toxic but how is it coming to it’s head. Mhmmm probably because I got upset when my partner started to put smart water and Gatorade bottles away. But because I’m a stupid OCD shit for brains and was working on something else at the same time, I told him not to do it. And it came off abrasive. I have a way it needed to be done. And he stormed out. He’s not at fault. He should have done that. But I didn’t mean anything negatively about it. And low and behold thirty minutes later I had a student. So before hand, I took a hammer and tried to hit myself in my hands and in my legs. I didn’t do it hard or long enough. Good to know, because well, it is.

Well the next day, he apologizes. But I didn’t want to take it. I have to punish myself. Selfishness! Ding ding! Controlling! Ding ding! And have refused to talked to him except for blurbs here and there to let him know where I’ve gone. I don’t touch anything in the kitchen, because it isn’t mine anymore. He can put whatever he wants away. It’s no longer my problem. And did I tell him that I didn’t want to mess up his kitchen? Yep.

✨✨✨✨✨Toxic bitch right here✨✨✨✨✨

I knew going to the AITA thread wouldn’t be worth it. Cause I am the toxic asshole! Woooo! So if someone wants to give pointers on how to harm yourself really nice and good let me know. I will HAPPILY take that.

Now does that mean I want the rest of you to hurt yourself? No. Please don’t. You guys have good souls. This is only for me. I have a black heart honestly. And not the good black heart you hear of.

But onto the other part…ED and work.

Ha. Most of my work is a joke. I don’t get paid enough. Most of America though so that’s not a lot to complain about. All I will say is I picked the wrong profession. But I’m dumb and I can’t do numbers at all. Doesn’t work well for me.

So how does that relate to ED? Well, I’m not doing a good job eating? This morning I had a granola bar, and chips. I did drink water though. Everything past that is contaminated. I refuse to bring sandwiches even in cooler bags because it won’t stay cold long. Has to last between 8-14 hours in a cooler bag. And that’s OCD talking because unless I talk myself out of it, it won’t happen. And I’m quite far deep with that shit. So yay for therapy and learning how to drink water and make happy memories out of it (it does work, I’m just being a bitch).

With that said, I hope you guys are okay. I know I’m the asshole. I know I have a problem. And I know I need to let him go. I just hope he sees it too.

If you are in a crisis and need help immediately, call 988 or continue to contact Crisis Text Line by texting “NEDA” to 741741 to be connected with a trained volunteer at Crisis Text Line. Crisis Text Line is a separate organization staffed by volunteers who provide free, 24/7 support via text message to individuals who are struggling with mental health, including eating disorders, and are experiencing crisis situations.

#avoidant restrictive food intake disorder #eating disoder recovery #eating disoder trigger warning #ed vent #living with ocd #actually narcissistic #toxic #toxic behavior #toxic relationship #self h@rm #tw self destructive behavior

[newmusicradionetwork]

Erin Duvall Releases Female-Empowered Summer Single “Girls Weekend”

Singer, songwriter, mother, and entrepreneur, Erin Duvall releases her country summer single, “Girls Weekend.” This new song from Erin is about female friendships that transcend their worth and how a girls weekend for everyone might not look the same, but it will be felt by everyone. Erin says, “The power of girl friendships is one of the strongest forces in the world. It is a source of energy and love, and there is nothing we can’t do together. Some people call their girlfriends their tribe; some people call them their ride or die; I simply call them my family. I feel so blessed to have such a wonderful group of women in my life who, no matter what, are there for me through thick and thin and vice versa. This song is a testament to our friendship, all of the amazing times we have had with one another, and all of the incredible ‘Girls Weekends’ to come!” As a country music songwriter, Erin writes about love, life, family, and what a girls weekend truly means. This song holds a special place for Erin as it defines the friendships that give a strong representation of how her closest friends have turned into family. “A girls weekend can look a little bit different for every group of friends, but the true core of what a girls weekend represents will be felt by everyone. Girls’ weekends are good for the soul. They give you the ability to put life on hold for a minute and reconnect with your closest friends and with yourself. Whether it is a spa weekend, a staycation, a rowdy trip to Vegas, a beach or lake trip, or a few days on the slopes, girls’ weekends provide the feeling of being free and being seen. Like they say, life was meant for good friends and great adventures! So here’s to a lifetime of fun ahead of us, says Erin!” Erin’s artistry continues to empower others through her honest storytelling and advocacy for girls’ empowerment. As a singer, she sets herself apart from others through her truthful perspective on motherhood and family, which includes heartbreak and broken dreams, but also resilience and grace that have made her much stronger. Erin adds, “I truly believe the older you get, the more important your girl friendships are to you. I have had the same best friends for 20+ years, and we definitely have grown up together. We have gone through the highs and the lows, the heartbreaks and the joys, with each other. We have stood by each other through thick and thin. So no matter how much time, distance, or life’s commitments may keep us apart, when we reconnect for our girls’ weekends, it is like nothing has ever changed. We lift each other up, we laugh till our stomach hurts, and we fuel one another to fill each other’s hearts with love and support until we can be together again! There is truly nothing better!” Erin also received high praise for her single and music video release “Walking Country Song,” her single and lyric video “Too Little, Too Late,” and her single “To Be Here.” It’s inevitable that it’s all about the support you have around you and the trailblazing women who have influenced Erin and her artistry along the way, including Dolly Parton, Reba McEntire, and Shania Twain. “Girls Weekend” is another powerful song building women up that is relatable to all audiences. Be sure to tag Erin on all social media platforms to be a part of her social media challenge, where you share your vision of a girls weekend for a chance to win a surprise gift and be featured in the “Girls Weekend” music video. STREAM HERE For more information and to connect with Erin Duvall follow her on  Website, Instagram, Facebook, YouTube, and Twitter.  To schedule an interview or for more information, contact Dead Horse Branding at the following: Danielle Reiss Dead Horse Branding [email protected]  Phone: [phone] About Erin Duvall There are many roles women play on a daily basis, creating a need for several different faces that each resemble the role authentically. Erin Duvall’s intention is to show you all of her roles and “faces” via her successful mediums of Music, Motherhood and Entrepreneurship. Collectively – “The Three Faces of Erin”. She aims to have you unmask your “faces”, embrace your roles and find what inspires you. The Texas-born singer-songwriter, Erin Duvall, was raised on a foundation of country, blues, gospel, and rock ‘n’ roll. Erin’s unique approach to music has drawn comparisons to singers like Janis Joplin, Natalie Maines, and Susan Tedeschi. As the fourth of five children in her family, Erin learned to advocate for herself and what she wanted at an early age, which was to always perform. By delivering raspy country vocals, Erin sets herself apart from other women in today’s country music scene. She belts, teases, and soars into listeners’ ears with her roadhouse bluesy tunes and the sultry sounds of her vocals. Erin’s debut album, Out of Focus, was recorded in 2010 with producer and songwriter Rob Giles. Rob Giles is a singer-songwriter known for his solo work, along with working with Andy Summers of the Police and the band The Rescues. Taking a pause to become a mother to four beautiful children and, as a single mother, she knows the importance of hard work and following your dreams. Currently, Erin is working with Terry and Simeon Baker of Baker Brothers Music. With over 30 years of experience, they have worked with Michael McDonald, Aretha Franklin, Kirk Franklin, Patty Austin, Wayne Newton, and Bishop TD Jakes, to name a few. Together they are working to perfectly blend country, gospel, and rock ‘n’ roll into one sound, showcasing the music that was rooted in Erin’s upbringing. The story of Erin Duvall has taken her around the sun twice and led her back to her passion for music time and time again. As a mompreneur, Erin is the creator and founder of the children’s animated character Aunty E, who teaches children about all types of music. The exciting animated world of Aunty E started in 2006 with producer Billy Henry. Billy has worked with prominent acts like The Chicks, Courtyard Hounds, Fleetwood Mac, and Shakira.The project is very near and dear to Erin’s heart, and she is excited to share the progress with all of you as she revamps it. Aunty E now features over twenty characters, a book series, and an album. As an influential philanthropist, Erin Duvall and her sister, Molly Duvall Thomas, founded a multimedia brand known as Sisters of Red. Sharing their love of fashion, design, travel, and all things real and beautiful, Sisters of Red started in 2017 as a creative outlet to share their inspiration. As a sister-duo, the two share a passion for giving to help make a difference in the lives of others. “I have grown up with two very strong examples of family first, hard work and giving back. So now, as a single mother of four, I feel very strongly to leave a legacy behind for my children that makes them proud,” says Duvall. With the passion that burns inside Erin Duvall, she will excel in all aspects of her career, especially in an ever-increasing world of burn-outs and flashes that dispense as quickly as the wick is lit. Press Quotes “It has been amazing to watch Erin Duvall, a beautiful, intelligent woman wear so many different hats as she births this body of music. What we are most inspired by is the love she always keeps at the forefront for her four children. This love speaks through these lyrics and melodies of “To Be Here.”’ — Baker Brothers, Award-winning musicians touring with Kirk Franklin and Bishop T.D. Jakes About Dead Horse Branding Dead Horse Branding is an award-winning public relations, management and branding agency with headquarters in both Nashville, TN, and Sydney, Australia. Dead Horse Branding creates, designs, and refines each component of a brand, ensuring that the brand will always hit the right chord on every level. Dead Horse Branding’s business model is a cutting-edge management and branding service all-in-house that spans multiple industries, including music, fashion, design, business, culinary, entertainment, fitness, and more. There are 7 primary formulas to branding and Dead Horse does them all under one roof, making them a very competitive branding agency. Branding is an identity developed through our DH7 branding formula, which includes: strategic planning, logo and image design, photography and visual assets, website design, marketing and social media, publicity, licensing, and distribution. Dead Horse Branding’s brand-building technique has been implemented into the education system in the USA and Australia. Rick Caballo and Melissa Core-Caballo were instrumental in helping to lead Kennesaw State University’s Joel A. Katz Music and Entertainment Business program (MEBUS) as one of top curriculums ranked by Billboard Magazine 2022. 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[rosedmuse]

solus anima; percival (mhyk oc debut)

Percival (パーシヴァル) is a notorious jester from Northern Country. As an almost ex-convict, how he is able to full-time operate a circus of his own, and freely roam about from country to country, is a question left unanswered to some. Currently, he works as his circus's ringmaster and entertainer, alongside his best friend, Paris Everdene.

PROFILE

Kanji: パーシヴァル Other Aliases: Percival, Perci, "Northern Jester" Pronouns: He/They Age: ?? Birthday: May 15? August 12? Any day? Height: Tall enough (probably 188 cm) Affiliation: Northern Country Occupation: Wizard, Clown

MAGIC

Magic Tool: Top Hat Spell: "Solus Anima" (Lonely Soul) [*] Skill: Circus entertainer Magical Specialty: Mind control Mana Area: All eyes on him in a full-housed circus tent Magic Amulet: Mask

OTHER INFORMATION

Likes: Circuses, his performers, attention Dislikes: Quiet places Strengths: Puzzles, gambling, "flirting" Weaknesses: Physical activities, poor memory, Paris

INTRODUCTION

Percival (パーシヴァル) is a notorious jester from Northern Country. As an almost ex-convict, how he is able to full-time operate a circus of his own, and freely roam about from country to country, is a question left unanswered to some. Currently, he works as his circus's ringmaster and entertainer, alongside his best friend, Paris Everdene.

PERSONALITY

Mystery incarnate with unusual taste, Percival is easily misunderstood. He may be seen as outgoing and loud, but barely any of his so-called friends know his "real" self. People thus tend to keep their distance from him, which he greatly disapproves of. He remembers very little from his past, hence explaining his desire to be an accepted member of society. But unfortunately for him, bad habits indeed prove to be very hard to kill...

HISTORY

Not much is known about Percival; only excerpts of recorded accounts that were salvaged by the Central Country's Secret Investigation Team exist today to describe the dark past he has yet to come to terms with, once again.

Having been born and raised in the North, he was said to be a notorious troublemaker and blackmail expert, often getting himself involved with intricate issues of political scandals by authorities of any and every country. But just like every bad guy, he was eventually captured and locked in prison to serve a life-long sentence. (This was where and how he met Bradley a couple hundred years later.)

Around the time Bradley was chosen to fill the role of a Sage's Wizard, was Percival allowed a less restricted sentence. After being locked up for majority of his life, for better or for worse, the world no longer "recognizes" him. Besides, he had believably developed quite the persona contrary to the findings of his initial verdict. Thus, he was likewise temporarily released from prison. But until he proves himself truly worthy of being guaranteed total freedom, his status as a criminal that continues to plague the history of many, remains unchanged.

HEADCANONS

His poor memory especially of his past is a side effect of his magic [**]

Magic specialty is limited only to one target at a time and is activated only when his magic tool touches his target's head (but it can be amplified to affect multiple targets and activate without physical contact by Oz's magic or being in his mana area)

"Perci" >>>>>>>>>>

Thinks he's pretty popular among the Sage's Wizards

Actually a crybaby (only Paris knows this)

RELATIONSHIPS

From Paris: "Just a ti~ny bit complicated to deal with sometimes but he means a lot (to me)."

From Cain: "Rumors are rumors. He's a good guy!"

From Bradley: "My good friend. He lends me money."

From Shino: "I don't get him but he's kind to us so it's okay."

From Shylock: "Hm. An interesting fellow, at least."

From Figaro: "Generally big BAD news... But I don't think I have the right to say that."

TRIVIA + NOTES

[*] In Latin, "solus" is "alone" and "anima" is soul.

[**] Once tried to seize control of Oz's mind but got his head blasted the moment he took a step closer to him. He remembers nothing after that. 

#perciowe #mhyk oc #mhyk yume

[opposite-idol]

Am I Dreaming?

Our eyes have squinted looking into the sun reflecting off your sunglasses and off my corneas And our eyes have crinkled together as we’ve smiled together day after day, again and again, has it really been three years Has it really been three years And we’ve fallen silent together out in the backyard, underneath the moonlight with the rainbow pool lights and dangling string lights that we never took down from Christmas illuminating the look of concentration on your face, and the look of curiosity on mine We make eye contact when you look up at the sound of my yelp as I pinch myself Sometimes I need to remind myself that this life is real that this life is real that this life is real

We’ve felt tired together, weak together, empty together, tired still Life is so taxing when you’re constantly switching between productivity, and waiting by the window sill lazily lazily You’re stressed out, I will always know, even if you never tell a soul, even my own I’m stressed out, but no one will ever know, because I don’t even know myself But I know you can read every little action that I spill out whether it’s words or silence, movement or stillness You know what it all means, you know me better than me sometimes But no matter how down we feel, you will still laugh to yourself at the sound of my yelp as I pinch myself Sometimes I need to remind myself that this life is real that this life is real that this life is real

Am I dreaming Is that question from you or me Is it for you or me, or for nobody I’d like to ask the crowd outside my mind this one thing But half of them would say yes, and half of them would say no Half of them would call me delusional, half of them would say “I love you”

From sadness and happiness from pain and emptiness from movies and laughter We’ve cried together On day one I tried to explain this overwhelming feeling of love Analogies of an iceberg There’s so much hidden under the water And I still don’t know how to get to it So I cried I cried tears that fell from the ice caps melt as I think about how scared I am that it’ll all melt down, and meld with the ocean water before I get the chance to figure out how to show you what it looks like under the water

From sadness and happiness from pain and emptiness from movies and laughter We’ve cried together On day infinity you came home and cried on me Left me to wonder, didn’t know what you were thinking And yet in your tears it was released so clearly as you kept trying to speak, not knowing how to articulate this overwhelming feeling of love saying I make you feel normal I wish I didn’t know what you meant by that But I did, and it’s so sad so so sad I once wrote “that’s the sacrifice,” and I couldn’t have been more right But sometimes I really wish I was wrong I wish I was wrong because it pains me to see you like this, and I hate that I have to write it, that you have to know it I just want to be there for you, that’s all, and I know you know it, I know you know it If I could tamp down my own emotions, I would I would in this moment But then a smile finally creeps across my face as you laugh suddenly when I pinch your arm Do I need to remind you Do I need to remind you that this life is real that this life is real

I think you might be dreaming Is that applicable to you or me, or both, or maybe nobody Maybe I should ask everyone who loves you, but isn’t me this one thing Are we dreaming But half of them would say yes, and half of them would say no Half of them would say they love you, and the other half would call me delusional Such division can’t be real, we must be dreaming But remember, this is only just one thing one part of you, one part of me So why’s it feel so overwhelming Can you trust me Half of them would say yes, and half of them would say I’m clowning your ass But I really love your sass, and don’t you love mine Don’t you love mine So are we dreaming Am I dreaming Am I dreaming

#love you #lvh

[chippedaxe]

yessss for karl?! omg yess please pleas please can you write a dom step sis! reader ruining innocent stepbro! karl!!

like she teases him and he just isn’t experienced at all and she just fucking destroys him, wanking him until the sensitive little bunny is crying and begging to stop from overstimulation

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Title: Silly Boy

Warnings: !TW: STEPCEST!, NSFW (Minors DNI), cursing, corruption ig, blackmail, degrading, teasing, humiliation, penis degrading, small penis, overstimulation

Pronouns: She/her Afab

Synopsis: The reader dominates Karl and knocks him down a peg.

Word count: 2k

Note: If this type of content offends you in any way then please just ignore it, I have tons of other content on my page that isn't stepcest content and you're able to blockout any stepcest content by blocking the 'tw sepcest' or 'stepcest cw' tag <3

- This prolly isn't what u wanted but I thought of this and wanted to write it! also this hasn't been proofread and it hasn't been edited at all!

*Btw Veruca Salt is a spoiled kid that gets everything she wants, from Charlie and the chocolate factory.

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Your eyes glared down at the younger boy, towering over him to show dominance "S-sis, what're you doing?" Karl asked "Trying to scare you, is it working?" you leaned down and kept eye contact with the stammering boy "u-um not really.." he stuttered out "then why're you stuttering over your words? You're obviously intimidated." you placed your hands on your hips.

"Well why're you trying to intimidate me? I'm just trying to read this book!" he groaned "Because someone has to knock you down a peg, you think just because you're younger that you can get everything you want? Well not if I can help it!" you were furious by the boy.

"What're you on about? What've I done to you?" Karl asked worriedly "You've been asking for a whole lot this week, veruca salt!" you threw your arms in the air and started pacing around him and his chair "What? Like what?" Karl was utterly confused "You've been asking for non-stop rides to your friends houses, and you've been leaving your laundry around for mother to do!" you cross your arms.

"You're overreacting!" Karl complained "Oh I'm not done! You've also been taking money from mom's purse!" you called him out "What- how did you know about that??" Karl immediately became tense "Oh you look so stressed dear brother, just relax- don't worry... I'm not gonna tell her-" Karl sighed in relief "Oh thank god" and got cut off by you finishing your sentence "-If you promise to be a good brother and listen to what your stepsister says!" you finished.

"WHAT? No way! I'm telling mom and dad!" He began to stand up but you pushed him back down "Oh no no no, you're gonna tell them what? That you stole the $200 that mom presumed was stolen by a thief? You gonna explain that to her after she already called authorities and had someone sent to jail?" you spat venom at him.

"You're evil!" Karl shouted "Me? Evil? I'm not the thief here" you grinned mischievously "Although I could be- if you don't wanna have to do everything I say then just give me something precious you own" you held your hand out expectantly "What am I supposed to give you? My soul?" Karl questioned "If you can bare to part with it then yes" you gave a mean smile in response to his sarcasm.

"I have literally nothing!" Karl exclaimed "You have your phone" you suggested "Dad would kill me if he found out I'd given it away!" He shouted "he'd kill you if he found out about that money too" you reminded him "I- I could give you... I'll let you date one of my friends!" Karl smiled nervously as he hoped you'd agree "What friends? You're a nerd, no one would want to be friends with you" snickered.

"S-Sapnap! He's strong, he loves animals, he has big muscles!" Karl said "The brute with dark hair? He's cute but not my type" you yawned "U-m.. Quackity?" a bead of sweat dropped down his face "He's super cool, really funny!" Karl was starting to worry as he was already running out of friends to pair you with "No.. My type is nerdy boys that I can dominate, ones that get nervous a lot and stutter over their sentences" you hinted.

"Oh- like Wilbur? I'm not really his friend but I can try something!!" Karl wasn't getting the hint "No, I was thinking more specifically towards someone like you." you finally told him "M-me? But I'm your brother!" Karl was in disbelief "Step-brother. And I don't really like you, I just think that you're pitiful and if you're gonna be selling someone's body to me in exchange to keep your secrets safe than it may as well be yours." you explained.

"But- Well- I've never done that before!" he put his hands up defensively "Well obviously, who would want to touch a greasy nerd like you?" you sighed. "Well- No, that's wrong!" he shook his head "Well I'm not gonna make you, just give me something else then and I'll be on my way" you told him. Karl looked down at his feet for a moment as he mulled over what was happening and what decision he was gonna make.

Karl lifted his head and made eye contact with you "Okay." he replied "Okay what? Okay you're gonna give me something?" you asked "No- I mean- okay I'm gonna give you my body" he mumbled quietly "Gonna need to speak up, can't hear you over the sound of our parents crying over having such a disappointing child" you ridiculed him.

"I'll give you my body, damnit!" he yelled "hey- quiet down, our parents are only just down stairs!" you made him shut up. "Whatever" he leaned back in his chair and slumped down "Karl. You need to give me your full consent, you can't just go 'yea whatever' and expect me to be fine with that!" you furrowed your eyebrows "Why?? What- do you need me to beg you for it?!" he was getting aggravated.

"Actually yes, I do" you decided to torment him a little bit "Big sis, please please please fuck this desperate loser" he put his hands together to make a praying gesture as he mocked you "That's more like it, runt." you grabbed his chin and forced him to face you "We can stop at any time, if you choose not to speak up then that'll be your fault" you made sure he was fully aware that he had a say even though he wasn't in control.

"Thanks. Now- how do we?" Karl was now confused on what you were gonna do, and he was having some type of delusion that he was gonna be the one in charge dominating you. "I think I'm just gonna have some fun by jerking you off, is that okay bunny?" you teased "W-what do you mean you're gonna jerk me off?" Karl asked nervously "I'm gonna stroke your dick, never done that before?" you bullied him.

"N-no, never even thought about it.." his face became red and flushed, you slowly slid onto his lap and straddled his leg "No? You haven't? Are you lying to your big sister? That's not very nice you know, Mom always told me that you shouldn't lie (Unless it's to your dad) " Karl glanced away from you and tried to hide his face "Aw you can tell me the truth, I'm a good listener after all!" you encouraged him "I haven't.." he persisted.

"Well then let me introduce you to the pleasure that is being jerked off, slide your pants down" you instructed "What? Do I have to.." he was clearly embarrassed "No. I guess I could just palm you through your pants" you shrugged. Karl sighed in relief and let out a small breath, tilting his head back in the chair and waiting for you to do what you wanted.

Your hand dipped between his legs, your palm rubbing his growing bulge "H-Hey that feels weird" he told you "So what? You want me to stop?" he shut his mouth, encouraging you to keep palming him. "This would feel a lot better if you let your cock free, instead your trapping it in your tight pants and strangling it.." you frowned "F-fine.." Karl blushed as he slowly pulled his pants down.

You watched in delight as he released his penis "Oh is this what you were worried about?" you stared down at it "O-Oh god-" Karl felt humiliated and went to put it away but you stopped him "It's cute.. I wouldn't expect a nerd's penis to be big anyways" you told him. Karl's little cock twitched at your words, moving slightly on its own "oh. my. god. You LIKE when I'm mean to you! That's why you never argue back! It all makes sense now.." Karl looked down to avert eye contact.

"That's perfect Karl, you love when I'm mean to you- and I love to make fun of you! Win Win!" you felt a small rush of excitement. Your hand wrapped around his cock which forced a choked out moan from him, his hands moving to cover his face "you're acting quite rude Karl. Look at your big sister when she's talking to you!" you ordered.

Karl slowly revealed his face, revealing how much pleasure he was having. "F-Feel's weird, let go!" he ushered you to let go of his penis, even though his body disagreed; his hips bucking up into your hand to help finish him off "Trust your big sister." you said as you continued to pump your hand around his cock. "Fuck! Fuck you!" Karl's whole body shuddered as he was having an orgasm, his penis twitching in your hand.

"Wow Karl, that was rude." you huffed and narrowed your eyes, your hand still lingering on his crotch "A-are you done now?" Karl panted as he was trying to catch his breath "Done? I've barely even started!" you laughed maniacally as you began to slowly stroke him again "Ah- no no no, that's too much!" Karl whined. "You want me to stop?" you asked him "Yes!" he exclaimed so you let go and pulled away "What?" Karl was confused and a bit upset "Hm? What is it?" you asked "You're just.. done?" he looked saddened.

"You told me to stop!" you explained "yeah but.. I didn't really mean it.." Karl's cheeks were dusted red "Well come back here then" you grabbed his hips and forced him back down onto his chair. Karl was already eager and bucking his hips up against you, your hand grabbed him again and started to jerk him off "Ah!- Ah-" Karl tried to keep quiet but couldn't help the escaped noises that came out.

You placed your free hand over his mouth to try and muffle his moans, his voice vibrating against your hand "You can never be quiet! Always have something to say, don't you?" you rolled your eyes at him. Karl clenched his eyes shut and tapped the chair repeatedly with his hand to let you know he was ready to cum again, you let him release his load yet again but you didn't remove your hand.

"A-Again?? I can only take so much.." Karl whimpered and whined "You're feeling this way already? But I've only just started!" You frowned "Well I guess I can give you a break now but there won't be any breaks later on when our parents go out to dinner." you stood up and got off him. "T-Thanks.." Karl huffed "For what?" you asked "Thanks for um- pleasuring me?" you scoffed and walked back to your room, ready to return at night time when you had Karl all to yourself.

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*guys lemme know if u want a part 2 bc I could certainly make one of the reader x karl at night time after their parents have left.

#tw stepcest #stepcest cw #karl jacobs x reader smut #karl jacobs smut #c!karl smut #mcyt x reader smut #mcyt smut #dreamsmp x reader smut #dream smp x reader smut #dreamsmp smut #dream smp smut #dsmp x reader smut #dsmp smut

[selenesheart]

astonished // d.m.

word count: 1.9k words

warnings: smut, oral sex (male receiving), innocent looking reader, best friends au, dirty talk, wet dream, praises, naughty thoughts.

summary: draco never thought the innocent y/n would give such an amazing blowjob.

a/n: thanks to @silverdelirium for telling me to write ily

—————

“oh yeah! just like that,” draco groaned as he held your hips tightly, the side of your face pressed against the mattress harshly by his hand. his hips coming in contact with yours, clapping sounds could be heard from where the two of you connected.

heavy breathing, sweaty hands, and a very visible boner. those were the things draco woke up to. lately, he’s been having these sweet dreams that involved you getting naked at the end.

the blonde groaned as he rubbed his eyes tiredly, he couldn’t control it, the thought of shagging you until you were breathless, it always came back. even it the worst times possible.

he felt guilt swirl at the pitch of his stomach, embarrassment fulfilled his body at the many times he’d dreamed about you, on that little skirt of yours.

he felt bad, yet he could help but imagine those little innocent eyes of yours, or how you would look with your fingers going in and out of you repeatedly.

he was sure that you had little to no experience in the sexual world. considering the fact that he had watched boys and girls give you useless hints, and joked about their sex life, yet you gave no reactions to those conversations, having no clue of what any of that meant, or so he thought.

────

“why don’t you shag her, then?” blaise spoke shortly after draco explain his situation to his best friend. “shh! no, I’m not doing such thing.” draco shushed blaise, he wasn’t really trying to get humiliated in the middle of breakfast.

“you know y/n,” draco sighed “she’s not really into that type of stuff.” said draco, the thought of telling you rushing in his mind, but quickly waving it off as he saw you walk in the great hall, with that bright smile, and those angelic features.

“how do you know?” asked blaise.

“pardon?”

“how do you know if she’s not into that type of stuff? I mean sure, she looks like she wouldn’t kill a soul, but again, it doesn’t mean she’s has a limited sex life.” he advised draco, who seemed to be deep in thought.

draco watched as you took sat with your friends, a few tables always from his.

blaise could be right. but he was too much of a coward to actually talk to you about such things, despite the fact that you know him like the back of your hand.

draco never imagined that his sweet, innocent best friend would even dare to be on her knees for someone. he felt his pants tighten at the thought of your beautiful body, sinking on your knees for him, glassy eyes looking up at him, mouth full of his heavy cock.

he took a deep breath as he gripped his silver spoon, he felt dizzy, and with shaky hands, he dismissed himself from breakfast. this girl would be the death of him.

────

“y/n!” your friend called “you’ve been staring at the same spot for more than thirty minutes,” they spoke quietly. blinking a few times, you tore your eyes from the blonde’s empty chair. wondering why would draco miss his favourite class? only if you knew.

you were worried for him. these past few weeks, he’d been avoiding you, acting a bit odd. sometimes you’d catch his eyes looking at you, analyzing every move you made. still, you would deliver him a sweet smile before returning to whatever your current task was.

sometimes, you wished those warm smiles, and the glances the two of you shared across the room meant something and the times where he would hold your hand under the table made you feel warm inside. you would be lying if you said that you didn’t think of the handsome blonde while your fingers were inside you.

often, you would think about how his mesmerizing eyes would hold eye contact while his dick would enter you roughly and fuck you senselessly until all you could do is mumble a few breaths of malfoy’s.

maybe this was wrong. yet you couldn’t help but have wild thoughts about your so-called best friend.

────

you took a deep breath before knocking on draco’s door, hoping that he would be alone at the moment. you played with your fingers while waiting, you bit your bottom lip slightly as you saw the dark door open with a tired draco behind it.

merlin, did he look good.

with slightly wet hair, pajama pants on, accompanied by a simple white shirt. if you didn’t know better, you would say that you could see the outline of his abs through his thin shirt. you let out a breath before speaking again.

“can— can we talk?” you asked quietly, you watched as draco’s jaw muscles flexed. he let you in his cold dorm as he eyed you for a second, taking your appearance in.

you had a night slip covering your body, considering that it was almost curfew, you just wanted to have a small talk with him before heading to your room. it took all of him to not stare at your cleavage for more than a second.

“what do you want to talk about?” he said nervously, maybe you had used the legilimency spell on him and read of all his naughty thoughts about her getting naked with him. or perhaps…

“why are you avoiding me draco?” the way his name left your mouth was intoxicating. he furrowed his brows, walking closer to you. you felt small under his presence.

“i’m not!”

“yes, you are”

“no, i am not”

“what did i do wrong?” you questioned your best friend, maybe it had something to do with the way you treated him in the past.

“what? nothing, you did nothing wrong. it’s just that—” his voice died as he closed his eyes, he took a deep breath. he didn’t really want to tell you how he felt about you. what if you left and never came back to his life? he didn’t want to risk it.

“it’s just what? tell me draco,” you raised your voice unexpectedly “tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.” you said sweetly. he hated the way you could still be sweet even when you just finished yelling at him.

“it’s nothing, I swear!” he raised his voice immediately “how about we talk in the morning, hm?” he hummed, trying to save his embarrassment for the next day.

“just tell me what’s going on so I can go!” you yelled, anger and frustration building up in your body. your eyes looking directly at his. you were extremely close now.

“fine!” he yelled, you could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears “I’ve had wet dreams about you and… I still do, okay?” he admitted, he groaned as he rubbed his temple in frustration.

“and I know you’re not quite familiar with—” he tried to explain himself before you cut him off.

“draco” you breathed, you took his face in your hands. hesitantly, you brought your lips to his, kissing him slowly but firmly. after the two of you parted lips, he looked lost of words.

“do you trust me?” you asked with a tiny smile on your face. he nodded, still dumbfounded by the breathtaking kiss you just gave him.

soon, the two of you were devouring each other. lips, tongues connected as you took your time taking off your night slip dress. when it was off draco wasted no time on caressing one of your soft breasts, rolling your hardening nipple between his fingers. finally feeling the tits he always imagines while stroking himself at night.

you disconnected your lips from his as he took his shirt off, muscular, smooth chest on display. your hand traveled from his chest to his lower stomach. palming his growing cock through his pants.

he breathed out your name when you got on your knees, holding his long legs for support. he began telling you that you didn’t have to do this if you didn’t want to before you shushed him. you placed small kisses over his crotch, smiling slightly as you felt it twitch against your lips.

you hooked your fingers in his pants, bringing his pajama pants down along with his underwear. you observed his heavy dick with parted lips, it looked delicious. your hand came in contact with the tip as your eyes went up to his face. innocent eyes looking up at him.

the fact that you still looked innocent drove him crazy, it made the desire for you grow. he felt filthy, yet he couldn’t help but made him want to destroy you and that little innocent face.

“you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” you spoke so close to his dripping tip, he could feel your breath against it. he fought the urge of grabbing the back of your head and shoving his whole length down your throat.

your lips came in contact with his tip, sucking on it roughly, taking draco off guard. you were doing so good, mind-blowing good actually. he never imagined you would be so skillful with your mouth.

you took more of his cock in your mouth, your hands working on the rest of his length. then, you took all of him in, his tip pressed against your throat as his fingers made their way down your head, guiding you up and down while he threw his head back.

“you’re doing— oh— so good” he groaned lowly, one of his hands flew to his bed’s poster for support. you moaned against him at the praise, his word making you clench your thighs.

the blonde thrusted his hips, making you gag loudly, tears threatening to escape your eyes. draco caressed the side of your face lovingly like your mouth wasn’t full of his dick.

your hand made its way to his aching balls, folding them, as you hollowed your cheeks, making draco moan loudly.

“fuck! you’re so good to me,” his mouth opened, however, there was no sound coming out of it. he felt his high coming quickly.

you released a hand from him, taking it up until you were feeling his abs, you could feel how his muscles flexed against your skin from the pleasure. he was cumming soon.

you grabbed one of draco’s hands and guided it down to your chest so he could feel your desperate breasts. he saw stars the moment his fingers tips came in contact with your hard nipple, he grabbed your tit roughly as his prick twitched uncontrollably.

before you knew it, your best friend’s cum was dripping down your throat, stuffing your mouth with his warm cum as he moaned loudly from the pleasure you gave him.

your tongue collected all of the remaining liquid. draco felt like he was dreaming, his kind, innocent best friend just sucked him off like a fucking goddess. even if he was dreaming, he would surely wank off to whatever this was in the future.

with his hands still on top of your breasts, you opened your mouth to show him that you had swallowed all of his cum. his eyes grew dark.

“oh merlin,” he sighed as he felt his dick hardened once more.

—————

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x reader #draco smut #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy angst #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader smut #draco x you #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy x best friend!reader #draco malfoy x you #harry potter series

[uwusenpaiuwu]

Sleepovers At The Baji Household feat. A Fed-Up Chifuyu

Summary: Chifuyu just wants to sleep, man, but Baji wants to be a jealous crackhead at 2 AM.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Note(s): I had a little free time and wrote this. So, please enjoy! ALSO, to the anon that sent me a request a few days ago, I saw it and have it filed on my to-do list!!! I will definitely get to it as soon as I get a break in my schedule :)

"Chifuyu, ya wanna see some real discrimination?"

No. No, Chifuyu does not want to see what Baji means by 'real discrimination.'

Does he tell him that, though?

Yes, actually, because it's 2 in the fucking morning and, as much as he respects the other boy, he wouldn't put it past himself to smother him with a pillow after having his dream of cuddling with a sea of puppies suddenly destroyed.

Unfortunately for his sanity, Baji either doesn't hear him or, more likely than not, doesn't give a fuck, because he's already flopping onto his belly and whipping out his phone to do God knows what.

The dial tone that sounds from the speaker a few seconds later makes Chifuyu cringe, especially since it's only ever been a calm silence fit for a good night's sleep prior to Baji bulldozing through it with his absurd question. (At the very least, he's thankful that the latter has half a mind to keep the brightness on the lowest setting, otherwise, Chifuyu would have had to fight.)

On the far end of the row of carefully-laid futons, you shift in your sleep, eyebrows furrowing together at the noise. Rotating onto your side, you unconsciously reach for Baji, and just when he thinks you're being cute and trying to cuddle him, you smack him in the head.

Baji doesn't flinch, instead, takes his pillow and shoves it in your grasp to keep your unconscious self occupied, so that he can focus on getting through to the person who reuses to pick up (understandably so).

Releasing a frustrated groan after being redirected to voice mail for the fifth time, he dials the number again, muttering an impatient, "Pick up already."

Chifuyu feels sorry for the poor soul on the other end. He would've blocked someone following the first call, because again, it's-

The blond has to squint his eyes up at the digital clock on Baji's nightstand, which confirms that it's already 2:22 A.M, further solidifying the fact that he shouldn't be awake right now. And this also applies to the ever persistent first division captain, who insists on bothering who Chifuyu soon discovers is Mikey from the contact ID that flashes across the screen.

Why Baji is so keen on bothering him is a question he doesn't have the mental capacity to ponder over. The most energy he'll expend is to listen in when the call miraculously connects.

"What...?" comes a muffled voice from the receiver, tone laced in an irked grogginess birthed from a slumber rudely interrupted.

There's an absurdly loud, almost angry, roar of Mikey's name, one that has Chifuyu curling in on himself in a futile attempt to escape a sound that should be illegal at this hour.

But you know what else should be illegal?

The fucking whiplash Chifuyu gets when Baji's deep voice takes an abrupt 180°, switching from its normal gruffness to a squeaky, ear-piercing shrill as he screams, "I love you, love you, love you! Do you love me, too, Mikey-kyun~♡?!"

The room is dead silent.

Not a word. Not a murmur. Not a breath.

Just pure, unadulterated silence as both Chifuyu and Mikey process the words that hang in the air, permeating it with a goosebumps-inducing eeriness from having heard such a...a girly, overtly cutesy screech from Baji.

Then-

"What the fuck? He hung on me!"

Chifuyu opens his mouth, thinks better of reacting to the cursed scene he had the misfortune of bearing witness to, and promptly closes it.

Other people may have sleep paralysis demons.

But Chifuyu?

Chifuyu has Baji.

With both hands partially raised in prayer, he begs for the shenanigans to be over and done with.

They are not.

While his eyes remain closed in a last ditch effort to convince himself that it's all a bad dream, he hears a lot of grumbling happening on your side of the room, courtesy of Baji, who's scrambling around in search of...something. One quick peek reveals him fiddling with a phone - yours, to be exact, as evidenced by the distinctive phone charm of your favorite anime character hanging from it.

"(Y/n), wake up for a second," he hears him whisper. It takes a bit of prompting, until he's able to successfully rouse you enough from sleep to elicit any kind of response, which is, essentially, nothing short of an incoherent, slurred mess. Although, Chifuyu is pretty damn certain he heard you call Baji a 'dickhead' for the trouble.

Unperturbed, he continues shaking your limp form, coaxing you into wakefulness with, "Repeat what I tell you, and I'll let you go back to asleep. Deal?"

You squint your eyes at him, only able to make out a vague outline of his visage in the lightless room. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart, hope to die," he automatically responds with the same phrase he's become accustomed to saying whenever you two made a promise, something done purely out of habit, formed when the two of you were just kids and he wanted to get you to do something absolutely ridiculous either for him or with him. And just 'cause he knows you're more susceptible to complying if he does it, he also interlocks his pinky with yours.

"...Fine."

The approval is his cue to proceed, and it's as he's putting the phone on speaker that he turns back to a regretfully wide awake Chifuyu, mouthing a wordless, 'Watch.'

The phone rings, loud and clear, precisely once and only once.

"(Y/n), what's wrong?" It's important to note that even though Mikey still sounds tired as hell, his tone is much lighter, much happier really, than when it was Baji, which is an offense in itself to the said teen that's off to the side, attentively listening to the conversation unfold.

Then, it strikes Chifuyu, what Baji is trying to do, and fuck does it give him an instant headache.

Meanwhile, your mouth morphs into the dopiest of smiles with the pleasant surprise of hearing your boyfriend's voice, chest instantly overtaken by a warm fuzziness that never fails to make an appearance whenever he's involved. Sappy, you know, but it's true!

A light but firm nudge to your shoulder reminds you of your mission. It's too bad that, teetering along the edge of sleep as you are, the words Baji whispers are barely repeated correctly.

The initial phrase from before, the one Baji greeted Mikey with, is shortened to a simple, "You wuv I...?"

But, without missing a beat, you receive Mikey's confident reply of, "Mhm... I wuv you a lot."

There's a sleepy giggle then - a fucking giggle - before your voices drop to sweet whispers that the third and fourth wheels can't fully comprehend from where they are.

"Where the fuck was my 'I wuv you,' huh?!" Baji whisper-shouts, considerate of your conversation even when ranting and raving. "Shit, I would've taken a simple 'I love you,' too! I've known that bastard way longer than (Y/n), and this is what I get?!"

Okay. Toman's president answers his boyfriend's late night calls faster than he does anyone else's and openly expresses his love for him. So what? Chifuyu wouldn't exactly call it 'discrimination,' per se. 'Favoritism,' maybe if you wanna stretch it, but using as strong a word as discrimination, especially taking into account you two are dating; it's normal? Nah.

"You wanna say 'bye' to them? Mm. Baji and Chifuyu." A pause. "Fuyu, Mikey says 'bye.'"

"Bye, Mikey-kun."

The other person in the room waits, and waits, and waits, and when it's clear that there is no intention to address his presence whatsoever, Baji turns to Chifuyu with an almost scandalized expression, making wild gesticulations with his hands, clearly distressed. "See?!"

Blank blue eyes stare back at him, unblinking. Honestly, it's a common occurrence - Baji spiraling in a nonsensical rage - so it's easy for Chifuyu to block out the muted, jealousy-driven temper tantrum as he takes his pillow in both hands, raises it as high as he can, and-

Sigh.

-lets it flop right back onto his face.

He can't suffocate Baji. Shouldn't. Wouldn't. Couldn't. After all, they're best buds, meaning he has an obligation to put up with shit like this once in a while. (Plus, he'd probably get his ass kicked before he succeeds anyway. Totally not worth the beating.)

"Did you hear? Mikey said he wuvs me," he hears you drawl dreamily as soon as you hang up, sounding very close to clocking back out for the night.

"Yeah, yeah. Cute shit. Happy for ya, dude," Baji huffs. Thankfully, he sounds like he's in a similar state to yours, if the yawn that follows his sarcastic comment is anything to go by.

"...He soooo ignored you."

That warrants a punishing punch to the arm, dulled only slightly by the combination of the thick quilt you're swaddled in and the raven-haired boy's fatigue.

"I'll fucking throw you out right now, (Y/n). Don't test me."

"You won't."

"I will."

"Won't."

"Will."

The conversation gradually dies down shortly after, the exhaustion that took its sweet time getting to both of you having reached its peak with the help of the childish bickering. It takes 10 minutes, maybe 15, before two sets of light snores fill the room.

Finally.

Let it be known that there is a lesson to be learned from tonight's events. Really, there is. Y'know, something along the lines of 'Don't agree to a sleepover with Baji, if you plan on actually sleeping,' or whatever.

Alas, Chifuyu's consciousness fades before he realizes what it is.

~~~

"Mikey, be honest. Who do you love more? Me or-?"

"(Y/n)."

"But-"

(Y/n)."

"I-"

"(Y/n)."

Baji is only momentarily discouraged, sharp eyes glaring at the blond that lays his head on your lap after hi-fiving you. He didn't want to do this, but he's left with no choice.

"(Y/n) or Babu?"

From the way Mikey stiffens up, refusing to look at either him or you in the eyes, Baji knows he has him right where he wants him, has him torn between a cute face or a sweet ride.

"Oi! Don't pretend to be asleep! Answer the damn question! OI!"

(After hours of serious contemplation - even though you told him it doesn't particularly matter - it's revealed that, of course, Mikey loves you more. Babu just happens to trail behind as a very close second.)

#mikey x male reader #mikey x reader #sano manjiro x male reader #sano manjiro x reader #sano manjirou x male reader #sano manjirou x reader #sano manjiro #sano manjirou #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader #baji keisuke #chifuyu matsuno

[overleftdown]

in defense of marc spector.

point (a); the attitude

THIS IS NOT A VALID ARGUMENT AGAINST MARC. he’s got the emotional capacity of an overripe coconut, i’ll give you that, but he is not hostile without reason or explanation. throughout episode one, most of marc’s “hostility” towards steven was purely pragmatic. in later episodes, marc’s main motivations fluctuate between emotion and practicality.

generally, he’s deduced that it’s important to keep steven at an arms length, this decision fueled by past traumatic experiences. he doesn’t want steven to be in contact with him, not just because of convenience, but because he believes that steven is the better parts of marc. to incorporate marc into stevens life would be, from marcs perspective, to introduce a more volatile and injured part of the system. this isnt just a system thing, he does it with layla, too. marc eventually pushed layla completely out of his life, but kept her at a certain length throughout their relationship. i think that marc’s secrecy has always been motivated by his instinct to separate himself into something more functional and something wounded. hence the formation of DID.

all of the above, in addition to; people who hate themselves as much as marc often lash out and push people away. a childhood of abuse and a lifetime of rejection has bred a man with the fattest inferiority complex. and major trust issues. add that to the list.

ANYWAYS, he despises emotional vulnerability, avoids conversations that might send him over the edge, refuses to rely on or entirely trust other people, feels entitled to protect others from himself, and pretends he is incapable of feeling pain and showing affection.

point (b); the mirror breaking scene

steven was being an annoying asshole.

but i guess i cant leave it with that, so ill just summarize really quickly: marc is juggling the possibility of ammit’s release, the threats against his wife and steven from khonshu, the threats of steven directed at him, the invalidation from steven, the crippling mental illness he avoids coping healthily with, and the sheer loneliness of his life for the last year or so.

stevens claims that he’ll make marcs life a living hell after marc has quite literally been living for the soul purpose of waking up, fighting, and going back to sleep? he’s a walking zombie, convinced that he has to hit one last checkpoint, finish one last mission, because he can finally disappear for good. at least, that seems to be his next course of action, all things considered.

so yea, he lost his shit when steven was yelling at him. its also important to note the efforts he made to comfort steven, talk him through the situation, and explain himself. all of which were ignored. idk, it just pisses me off that steven is allowed to feel emotions but marc somehow isnt?? mmmm.

point (c); layla

fork. i kinda already went over this, but i have way less excuses for the way marc treats layla, because shes never been anything but patient and kind. she hasn’t yelled at marc, or insulted marc the way steven has. you could say that marc hasnt been outright offensive or mean or demeaning to her, but he’s avoidant in a very toxic way.

e.i, the car conversation. “i wonder if i even know you at all!” “you don’t”. theres no rational excuse for this, the only explanation is marcs own internal compass, pointing him in the direction opposite of every other human being that might be healthy for him. he doesnt want layla near him anymore, he’s come to some kind of conclusion that he can’t have her. he’s never going to be the person she needs, because he’s never going to be an honest and vulnerable person.

if anything, i thinks its safe to assume that he honestly believes steven is a much better match, since he’s the better man. “but oh, marc was mad at steven for kissing layla!” yea duh, cuz marc still loves her. but can you really say marc thinks he deserves her? i’d even say that he doesn’t. marc doesnt rly think he deserves much at all. “i should’ve died. i should be dead.”

conclusion

maybe some of this is a stretch, maybe i’m psychoanalyzing too much, but people seem to be forgetting that marc is mentally ill. he is traumatized in a way you can’t fully heal from, you can only find the best way to live happily and healthily. even then, it’s hard, and it’ll always be hard.

i dont want to be that person that compares ppls mental health, but stevens formation quite literally leaves him without any of marcs trauma (from what we’ve seen, idk). steven is experiencing new things, stressful things, terrifying things; but he is experiencing them without the full weight of marc’s past experience. idk, i think its rly important to recognize that. steven is nicer than marc bcuz marc has learned to be hostile. steven is more open and honest with layla because marc has learned to hide. steven shows his fear and sadness because he was never forced to pretend.

anyways, yea. i kinda just adore marc.

#marc spector #moon knight #steven grant #layla el faouly #marvel #mr knight #marc spector defense squad #marc spector deserves good things #i love marc #AND IM TIRED OF PPL DEMONIZING HIM #also if i hear layla slander one more goddamn time istg #im killing someone

[justaself-shipper]

Golden Guard x Reader- True Colours

A/N: I wanted to get back into the swing of things before redoing the requests. There may or may not be a few Amphibia references in here…since i watched it quite recently... Spoilers for Hunting Palisman. Also anyone get the reference of the title?

Being in the Emperor’s Coven wasn’t easy. From battling monsters and demons to rogue witches and a certain human, I was surprised I was still alive. A regular guard was just a pawn for the Emperor. Yet, I had no choice, since my parents had already planned my future while I was still young. I wanted to make them proud, and I really did try. But it seems like being a normal guard in the Emperor’s Coven wasn’t enough. I needed to go bigger, eliminate anyone in my way if I had to. I was going to do it for them, and for my lost Palisman, Froggit. (IT WAS THE ONLY THING THAT CAME TO MIND-) Standing at attention, I watched all the servants and guards walk by. I was assigned outside the Throne room today. Kikimori happened to be walking by as the door opened. She gasped. “Golden Guard?! You’re alive! I heard about the crash-“ The “Golden Guard” came into view. He greeted Kiki, and I had the time to observe him. He was about my age, with blonde hair, red eyes, and a scar on his right cheek. As he walked away from Kikimori, he looked my way. I hadn’t realised I had turned to face them. Quickly standing to attention, I stiffened as he stopped in front of me. “Sir.” I saluted. He raised an eye-brow, looking at my badge. (Ima just pretend the badges have names engraved into them in small lettering or something). “Haven’t seen you around here much. When did you join the Emperor’s Coven?” He asked casually. I glared through my mask. “Two weeks ago, sir.” I replied, trying my best to keep my voice calm. He smiled. “Well, miss ‘Y/N’, it’s nice to meet you. The names Hunter.” I didn’t reply back. After a few minutes of silence, he sighs. “Welp, I better be going. See you around.” As he walked away, I let my shoulders relax a bit. Glaring after him, I watched him disappear. So, a higher rank, right? Well, we’ll see about that. Don’t try to chit-chat me, Hunter. You’re nothing but a rival. Later that evening… I let out a yawn. It was late, and I was the only guard patrolling this side of the castle. Lifting my mask to rub my tired eyes, I heard a loud bang, followed by yelp of pain. “Palisman!” Someone hissed. Pulling my mask back down, I held my staff out. “COME OUT! I KNOW YOU’RE THERE!” I yelled out. There was nothing but silence. Turning a corner, I caught someone running away, carrying something. “Hey!” I gave chase, following the intruder down the corridors. As I ran, I realised they seemed to know exactly where they were going. Running by halls that lead to dead ends, and avoiding doors that entered into closed off rooms. Using my staff, I sped up, running in front of the witch. He came to a stop, almost tripping. Holding out my staff, I was about to zap him, when I realised it was Hunter. A small, red bird Palisman sat on his shoulder. I smirked under my mask. Hiding a Palisman? One that has wild magic? This was treason. Oh, Emperor Belos is going to love this. “You stay here.” I stated, using a spell to keep him in place. As he struggled, I began to walk off. If he’d been keeping a wild Palisman, who knew what he could do with it. Best to retrieve back-up, and quickly. As I turned my back, he yelled out to me. “Wait! Don’t tell Belos!” Ignoring him, I continued. “I know what he does to them! He kills them!” Stopping, I turned back to the Golden Guard. “What do you mean by that?” I questioned cautiously. Hunter closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. “Emperor Belos isn’t a witch. I don’t know what he is, or what happened to him. All I know is that he uses the magic in the Palismans to keep himself powerful and in a stable condition.” My mind went to Froggit, my Palisman before I joined the Coven. He went missing as soon as I joined…he couldn’t have… “Y-you’re lying, aren’t you?” I growled. The Palisman sitting on his shoulder chirped. After a moment of silence, I released the Golden guard. Turnng my back to him once again, I growled under my breath. “Get out of here before I change my mind.” Hunter didn’t need to be asked twice. Making sure the Palisman wasn’t hurt, he left, returning to his dorm. About an hour later, another guard took over my shift. Rushing back to my dorm, I leaned against the door. It couldn’t be true. Emperor Belos would never hurt my Palisman, would he? I let out a shaky breath. He couldn’t have…right? Finishing up my carving, I stared lovingly at the Frog as I held it up to the sunlight. “And done! Welcome to the world little buddy!” I whispered, blowing the flakes away. Smiling widely, I placed the wooden frog on my bedside table. All I had to do now was wait. He should wake up in a few minutes. Leaning back on my bed, I picked up my book, looking at all the human creatures inside. I loved looking at all the pictures, and even chose one as my Palisman. There were so many amazing creatures, for awhile I couldn’t pick. I had finally settled for a “frog”, since they sounded so amazing. Hearing a croak, I looked up from my book. My new Palisman had woken up, and was crawling around and curiously peering at the objects on my bed stand. “Hey there little guy.” I cooed, picking him up. He let out another croak. “Welcome to the Boiling Isles! You’re so cute!” He tilted his head curiously in my direction, letting out another excited croak. Giggling, I gently pet him. “I’ll keep you safe Froggit. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” I jolted awake, rubbing my teary eyes as I sat up. Silent sobs threatened to erupt from my throat. Taking a few minutes to calm myself, I inhaled slowly. This wasn’t a coincidence, wasn’t it? Froggit was gone, and I had failed to protect him. He had probably died a horrible death, scared and all alone. Checking the window, I noticed the sun was rising. I had to get ready for today. As I stood up, I felt my stomach squirm in guilt. Looking around my room, i grabbed a satchel, collecting things and preparing. I had to get out of here. I was NOT going to work with a Coven that murdered my Palisman, no matter what my parents say. I would have failed them, but nothing was worse than knowing I had failed my Palisman, my only friend. A loud knock came from the door. Looking up, I stared hard at the door. Who could that be? I’m not late for something, am I? The knocking came again. Walking over, I opened the door to find Kikimori there. She seemed to be glaring daggers into my soul, even though she was way shorter than me. “The Emperor wants to speak with you immediately.” She stated, walking away. Why does the Emperor want to see me? I took off my mask as I stood in front of the throne room. My knees shook thinking over the things the Golden Guard had said the night previously. The Emperor wasn’t who I thought he was, and that thought alone terrified me. Clutching my mask, I opened the doors. Mutterings were coming from the other side of the room as I entered. Walking along the corridor, I took note that a few guards, as well as the Golden Guard and Emperor Belos were in the room. Belos was talking to the Golden Guard, but stopped when I entered. I bowed down to the Emperor, as I felt his eyes bare into my soul. “You must be Y/N L/N, right? Hunter has told me so much about you.” He stated. I bowed my head, keeping an eye on Hunter. He seemed to be distracted, since he didn’t seem to be paying attention to us. “He’s told me of all your hard work so far, and that you’re trust worthy. So, I have made up my mind.” He stood up, grabbing onto his staff. What was he doing? “You’ve been moved up to Captain of the guards, since ours has…retired. How does that sound?” Shocked, I glanced up to Hunter. His eyes were averted, refusing to look at me. “I-it’s an honour, my lord…” I stuttered. “B-but, I-i’m just a humble guard, there’s no need to put me as Captain so soon-“ I was cut off as something headed my way, barely missing me by a hair. I stiffened, following the pointed object toward the Emperor. It was….his…arm…. He took the object away. “I'm afraid you don’t have a choice in this matter. Your first mission starts tonight. You’ll be accompanied by Hunter. You’ll be given your badge in the morning.” He waves his hand, signifying I could leave. I nodded. “Y-yes, my Lord.” With that, I placed my helmet back on, walking briskly out of the room. Opening the door, I jumped a little when Kikimori was waiting on the other side. She said nothing, just simply glared at me then left. After watching her disappear around the corner, I let out an angry sigh. What was I gonna do? Later that night…. The Golden Guard was standing beside me, steering the ship we flew in. There was an awkward silence for the first 10 minutes of the flight, with both of us avoiding eye contact. Apparently, we were meant to be looking for Palismans. “So…everything you said the other night was true.” I mumbled. The Golden guard hummed in response. “Unfortunately, yes.” Another silence ensured. “I wasn’t expecting him to make you Captain. I just wanted to help you out a bit, since you helped me. I’m sorry if it wasn’t what you wanted…” I let out a sigh. “It’s fine." That’s when he turned to me. His eyes were filled with sympathy. “I’m also sorry about your Palisman…” I whipped around to face him. “How-“ “It’s not hard. Everyone has a Palisman when they first arrive. They disappear after the first week, and given a “new and improved” staff. It’s becoming more common. Only a few are allowed to keep their Palismans.” He stated, his brows furrowing as his gaze returned to the horizon. “You seem to know a fair bit.” I said. He shrugged. “One of the few perks of being the Emperor’s right-hand man.” I nodded understandingly. Being right-hand man couldn’t have been easy. There would’ve been many people trying to back-stab him. I WAS one of them.

“…what was it like? Your Palisman?” He asked curiously. I smiled under my mask. “He was my best friend. A lot of people questioned why I chose a monster from the human realm, but it didn’t matter. I loved him almost like my own child…” I felt the tears threatening to overflow once again. Hunter smiled. “He sounded nice.” I looked over to him curiously. “You say that as if you’ve never had a Palisman.” His eyes widened, before he turned his face away from me. “…this Palisman is actually my first. I didn’t do well in school, so I never achieved my staff.” Was all he replied. Great. Now I felt bad. “I’m sorry…" He chuckled. “It’s alright. There wasn’t a chance you could’ve known.” Letting out a sigh, I took my mask off. What was the point of hiding my face while meeting a new friend? Letting my hair fall down, I hear Hunter let out a small gasp. I raise an eyebrow, turning my gaze to him. His eyes were wide open, staring at me. “What are you looking at?” “You…you’re beautiful…” My own eyes widened, and I felt my cheeks heat up. Hunter realised that he said it out loud, and his own face lit up. “I-i’m so sorry! I-“ “Just be quiet.” I growled, turning away so then Hunter wouldn’t see me. The ship shook, and I felt it begin to fall rapidly toward the ground. I watched in terror as the ground came closer, and I blacked out as we hit the ground. “Hey! Y/n, wake up!” Someone hissed quietly.

I let out a groan as I opened my tired eyes. Hunter was gently shaking me, looking around frantically at his surroundings. “W-what happened?” I grumbled, sitting up. Hunter clasped a hand over my mouth. I was about to object, when he pointed to a certain short monster on the other side of the rocks. It was Kikimori, and she did not look happy. She seemed to be carrying a stone. I recognised it from history books. They made the possessor stronger. “I KNOW YOU’RE HERE GOLDEN GUARD! AND I KNOW WHAT YOU DID THE OTHER NIGHT!” She shrieked. My brows furrowed, looking toward Hunter. “What is she talking about?” I hissed. He reached for his broken staff. I hadn’t noticed that before. “I’ll explain later. Right now, we need to get out of here.” He whispered back. Without warning, he grabbed my hand, leading me away from the angry monster. Once we were far enough away, I pulled my hand free from his. “What the hex was that about?!” I yelled. Hunter let out a sigh. “Look, the other night I was assigned to collect Palismans. I told my Uncle that I had failed, but the real reason was that I let them go. Kiki and the human Luz was involved and…things just got out of hand.” He was looking down at his feet. “If I told him what had really happened, then he would kill both of us…” I listened carefully. When he was finished, I smiled softly. ‘Hey…you did the right thing.” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Surprised for a moment, Hunter smiled. “So, what are we gonna do? We can’t tell your Uncle we failed to retrieve them again. He’d find out for sure.” I said. Hunter thought for a moment, before a smirk crossed his features. “Not unless we disappeared.” I stared blankly at him for a moment. What did he mean by that? “What do you mean?” “Alright, this is the plan.” Waiting outside the castle, I tapped my foot impatiently. Hunter had gone into the castle to retrieve his Palisman, leaving me outside to wait. It had been 10 minutes already. Shouldn’t he be back by now? Something must’ve happened. Letting out a growl, I clutched my staff, heading inside. Once inside, I passed a few of the guards. None tried stopping me, just giving a nod as I passed by. They took note of my badge it seemed. As I walked pass the throne room, I halted when I heard a cry of pain come from within. “NO, PLEASE! DON’T HURT HIM!” That was Hunter. Rushing over, I swung the doors open. There was Hunter, being held by two guards. Kikimori held his Palisman, about to hand it over to Emperor Belos. Everyone stopped what they were doing when I entered, turning to face me. Emperor Belos was the only one to recognise me. “Ah, Y/n! A nice surprise! No need for any assistance. You see, Hunter here has been keeping secrets from us.” He stated gesturing to Hunter. “But Kikimori has saved us by warning us of his treason. He’ll be thrown into the dungeon shortly, and this…Palisman will be dealt with.” At that, Kikimori was about to hand the Palisman to the Emperor. Rage filled me, and before I realised what I was doing, I had sent a spell their way. The Palisman was thrown from Kikimori’s hands, falling to the ground out of reach. Everyone let out a gasp. Tears overflowed from my eyes as rage coursed through me. “No one else’s Palisman’s are getting hurt under my watch.” I growled. Belos straightened his posture. “I see. You’re a traitor to our kind. Guards, get her!” He yelled. The guards holding Hunter let him go, charging toward me. Using my staff, I quickly defeated them, swinging my staff against their skulls. Both fell unconscious. Without thinking, I charged Belos. He killed my Palisman. Before my staff made contact with him, he used his own magic to throw me against the wall. Yelping in pain, I stumbled to my feet. My vision was still blurry from the impact, hence why I didn’t see Belos walking towards me. I was pushed back against the wall. Something was piercing into my neck, and I realised it was the Emperor’s staff. “You’ll have the same fate as your Palisman.” He hissed. Choking for air, my vision was getting darker and darker as I stared murderously into Belos’ eyes. I finally felt myself drop to the ground, the Emperor letting out a groan of pain as he was attacked from the side. Strong hands lifted me up, helping me limp away from the scene. Hunter got his Palisman ready, ordering me to get on. Doing so, I left my staff lying on the ground, clutching his waist tightly as we escaped the castle. I buried my face in Hunters shoulder as we flew over the Boiling Isles. Neither of us had spoken for a while, and honestly I was too shocked. Finally, Hunter spoke up. “Thank you for that. That was very courageous of you to stand up to him. Are you ok?” “Y-yeah, I’m ok…where are we going? Do you have a place in mind?” I asked, looking down at our surroundings. We were near Bones Marrow (was that what it was called?), and I curious if he had a destination. Hunter smiles at my question. “I have a friend nearby. We’ll seek shelter there if she’ll allow it.” With that, he neared the forest floor, landing quietly in the bushes. I looked up at the building in front of us. I knew this place, although I’d never been to it myself. This was the Owl House, home of one of the most powerful witches on the Isle, Eda the Owl lady. Well, WAS the most powerful. Hunter walked up the doorstep, and was about to knock when a large owl tube on the door spoke up, startling both of us. “OOH VISITORS! FROM THE EMPEROR COVEN TOO! HAVE YOU COME HERE TO BE MY FRIEND?!” The door opened, revealing Luz the human. Her smile lit up when she realised it was Hunter. “Hunter! Hi! What are you doing here? And who’s your friend? You aren’t…here to arrest me, are you?” She asked suspiciously, closing the door ajar as she squinted her eyes. I almost laughed at how childish she was. “No, sorry to disappoint. Me and my friend were going to ask if we could stay for awhile? We…kinda left the coven.” Hunter said, gesturing to himself and I. I gave a little wave. Luz’s eyes widened in surprise, her smile returning. “Of course! Come in! We have…room for two more!” Opening the door, she let us inside. Hunter stepped in first, but was stopped by an ice wall. He let out a yelp of surprise, and Luz was yelling at someone. “Lillith! Be nice!” Lillith? Where have I heard that name? It clicked when I caught sight of her. There, in what I assumed to be human clothes, stood Lillith, my role model ever since I was a small witchling. I almost jumped up and down in excitement, if it wasn’t for the shock of the ice bars between us. “Human! This is the Golden Guard! We can’t let him in here! What if it’s a trick?!” Lillith shrieked. Luz tried to calm her down, explaining that he’d changed. Another woman stepped into the room, followed by a small demon with a skull on his head. “Alright, what’s going on here?” She muttered. Luz sighed in relief. “Oh thank god you’re here, Eda. My friends need a place to stay, and-“ Eda? Lillith cut her off. “HE’S THE GOLDEN GUARD! It could be a trap!” She screamed, gesturing to the two of us. Hunter didn’t say anything, just let out a nervous chuckle. Eda only stared at us tiredly. “…..if it’s a trap we won’t hesitate to knock em’ out cold. Just let em in.” She grumbled, sitting on the couch as she drank something from out of a cup. Lillith stuttered indignantly, while Luz used what I assumed a random piece of paper to create fire. Melting the bars, she let the two of us inside.

A few minutes later, Hunter and I were sitting beside each other on two chairs, while Lillith, Luz, and Eda were sitting on the couch. He had just finished explaining what had happened with Emperor Belos mere hours before. Lillith had her arms crossed, staring at us suspiciously, while Eda was peacefully sipping at her apple-blood. Luz was holding the little demon, who I found out was named King. Luz spoke up first. “So…now you’re wanted criminals?” She asked, concerned. Hunter pat his Palisman. “It would appear so.” He muttered. Lillith didn’t say anything, but it was obvious from her body language she didn’t trust us. Eda the owl lady smiled comfortingly. “Well, I guess an enemy to Belos is a friend of mine. Welcome to the Owl House kids.” She chuckled. “Thank you.” I replied. Luz pointed accusingly at me. “AHA! YOU DO SPEAK!” She yelled. I chuckled. “So what’s your name, kid?” Eda asked. “I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you all. Especially you Lillith!” She turned to me, raising a brow. “Why’s that, witchling?” “You’ve always been a role-model for me! I feel so honoured meeting you in person!” I said, my smile brightening to finally have an opportunity to speak to my hero. Lillith smiled. “Thank you, witchling.” A few weeks later… Hunter and I had officially moved into the Owl House. It was a bit crowded but it became our home. Eda was teaching Hunter how to take care of his Palisman, plus how to use and treat it. I on the other hand, began to classes with Lillith and Luz, learning how to master glyphs. Sure, I still had my powers, but in case of emergencies I wanted to learn about these strange little symbols. We had become wanted criminals that day, and our wanted posters were stuck up all over the Boiling Isles. I felt a light tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I realised it was Hunter. “Hey Y/n, I have a surprise for you.” He said, grabbing my hand and leading me away from the Owl house. Dragging me through town, we snuck by many wanted posters of us. He finally stopped outside of Hexside, a school I had once attended before joining the Emperor’s Coven. Knocking on the door, Principal Bump opened. “Ah, good you’re here! Just in time too!” He whispered, taking down another poster that was stuck to his door. He smiled down at the two of us. “Good to see you again Y/n. Come this way!” Leading us onto the Grudgby field, I noticed Eda was standing beside a large, wooden stump. She walked over to us excitedly. “Y/n! Hunter had told us what had happened to your Palisman, so Bumpy, Hunter and I decided to give you a little surprise. I introduce to you…” The Bat Queen flew down, landing on the stump and opening the door. Many Palismans with cracks ran out, looking around curiously. “To the Palismans! These little guys need a good home again, and one lucky one may pick you.” My eyes widened in awe, as I clasped my hands over my mouth. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I hugged Hunter, who was standing beside me. “THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!” I cried. Realising what I was doing, my face heated up, and I immediately let go, looking away in embarrassment. He did the same, scratching his neck as a pink flush covered his cheeks. Eda chuckled at our interaction. “Alright. All you gotta do is kneel down, say a goal you want to achieve and one should choose you.” She stated. I grinned as I knelt down, looking at all the cute Palismans scuttling about. “I want a powerful Palisman to help protect those I care about.” I said. One Palisman began to glow. It looked like a lizard from the human realm, but with a scorpion tail and sharp claws. I held out my hands as it turned into a staff, landing gently in my hands as the Palisman happily growled. My grin widened as I looked excitedly back at Hunter, hugging the Palisman close. Everything was going to be ok now.

A/N: HOLY CRAP FINISHING THIS I REALISED IT PRETTY MUCH TURNED INTO A FULL BLOWN NOVEL-

#golden guard #hunter #toh #the owl house #spoilers #the owl house season 2 #self insert #golden guard x reader #hunter x reader #x reader #reader included #reader #toh s2

[whisker-biscuit]

The Birds, The Bees, and The Bottles

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: T for mild language and discussions of underage drinking

Summary: Two teens are caught trying to sneak into a bar. Bob finally has a conversation he’s held off for far too long.

Because herbaphony is not the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family.

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

Bob’s phone rang at two in the morning. Judging by the jolly ringtone of Helmut singing Strawberry Fields Forever, it was his personal phone instead of his work one, and that was the real tip off to things being very, very wrong.

He woke up and groggily pulled out of his still-slumbering-husband’s arms to answer the little thing going off on his nightstand.

“H’lo?”

“Bob!” Truman’s voice came out far too loud for the time of night, and far too stressed. “Bob, I’m so sorry to wake you, but something happened with Lili. I need you to pick her up for me, please.”

The older man sat up, much more awake as worry and fear immediately rolled in his gut. Helmut finally began to stir beside him, sensing his partner’s agitation.

“Truman, what’s going on? Pick Lili up from where?”

“The city’s police precinct on Abbey Avenue. She – she called me, but I’m out of state and I wouldn’t get there for hours at least even if I left this instant. She’s not in danger!” He added hastily, hearing the concern before Bob could even voice it mentally. “She didn’t get hurt! She’s just…”

The way he tapered off, the way he hesitated, said more than words could.

“She just got herself into some trouble, and she needs someone to go get her.”

Helmut was sitting up now, and Bob felt the question cross their mental link.

 What happened?

 Truman needs me to pick Lili up from the police station.

“I’m up, I’m on my way right now,” He responded to his nephew verbally, heaving himself out of bed. His husband followed suit despite still looking extremely puzzled, bless him.

“Thank you so much, Bob. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The older man waved a dismissive hand even though Truman wasn’t there to see it. “Family is s’pposed to do that for each other anyway.”

“Did I hear that right? Our peppy petunia had a run-in with the law?” Helmut asked as soon as his partner hung up. He paused, and in a lower tone – “she didn’t kill anyone, did she?”

“I don’t think it’s that serious,” Bob said, pulling a coat on over his sleep shirt. “But something tells me we still have a few things to worry about. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Ohohoh, no, don’t even think about hoofin’ it without me. We both know I’m the better driver.”

“Neither of us are very good drivers, Helmut.”

“Exactly! That little bit makes all the difference!”

The herbophanist sighed, charmed despite himself and the situation. “Alright, alright. Let’s not keep her waiting.”

The police precinct was nearly dead at this time of night. While it would’ve felt eerie to anyone else, Bob was grateful for the lack of people, and not just because he was still an introvert of the highest degree.

Two teenagers awaited them in the lobby, sitting on a bench together. One was hunched over and burning a hole in the ground with his downcast eyes. The other sat straight up, defiant, holding a glaring contest with the officer standing over them. When Bob entered the room first and met his great-niece’s eyes, her self-assuredness wavered for a brief moment. She hid the slip-up behind a wall of indifference.

“Lili,” he said softly. Then, just as softly but with a gruff tinge of surprise; “Razputin.”

There was no accusation in his voice, but the former scowled harder and the latter looked like he wanted to employ his invisibility. Bob studied them both a moment before his husband appeared and broke the tension with his mere presence.

“We’re here to bust you out, kiddos!” He announced with spread arms, cheerfully ignoring the looks he received from every person in the room.

“Are you Truman Zanotto?” Asked the officer who finally broke his gaze away from Lili to give them a disapproving once-over.

“No, I’m uh, I’m Bob Zanotto, and this is Helmut,” came the awkward reply. “Truman called me to pick Lili up. She’s my great-niece.”

A few seconds of silence passed as the officer made no move to do anything with that information. Bob cleared his throat.

“We’re, uh, listed in her emergency contacts for school?”

“I see. If you can just fill out some paperwork first, we can release her into your custody.”

The herbophanist watched the way Raz seemed to sink further in his seat at the mention of family contacts. The Aquatos were also out of state right now too, if he remembered correctly. Perfect timing for two minors getting up to mischief.

Well, up until they were actually caught.

“And…Razputin, too?” He asked, catching the teen’s startled gaze and giving him the mental equivalent of a thumbs-up.

The officer raised a brow. “Is he related to you, too?”

“Well, uh –”

“Yep!” Helmut interrupted, strolling right up to Raz and giving him a merry clap on the back. The teen had a physique comparable to most adult Olympic athletes, but even he nearly toppled forward from the force of such a big man. “He’s my third cousin, twice removed. Big family. Very close. Holidays are an experience, lemme tell ya!”

“Fine,” the officer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, okay, I’ll make sure he gets cleared for release too. I’ll be right back.”

He stalked off, muttering something about it ‘being too damn early for this’, and the older couple turned to face Raz and Lili. Helmut steepled his fingers together to rest against his mustache.

“So! Now that Officer Spoil-Sport is gone, are we allowed to know what heinous crime has been committed in the night by my favorite pair of mischief-makers?”

The two glanced at each other. Raz was the one to break their silence.

“We, uh…got caught sneaking into a bar.”

Cold heat rushed through Bob’s core. Helmut blinked once, twice, then let out a boisterous chuckle.

“That’s it? Jesus! From the way you two were acting I thought you’d robbed the First National Bank.”

“…Helmut.” His husband murmured. The psi-king lost his mirth as he caught Bob’s eye.

“Ah…w-well, y’know, while I’m certainly glad we won’t hear about a righteous homicide in the news tomorrow, forgery ain’t exactly a humble hobby either.”

“It was just two IDs,” Lili muttered under her breath. “Not a big deal.”

The ice in her great-uncle’s heart turned frigid, but before he or Helmut could say anything to that, the officer was back. He shoved a handful of forms under Bob’s nose and the herbophanist fumbled to grab them before they all tumbled to the floor.

“Uh, uh, thank you.”

“Alright, we’re putting the pause on this conversation to make you free citizens again, but don’t think that means we’re done with it.” The Psi-King gave the teens the sternest look he could manage. “As soon as we get in the car, you two will have a lot of explaining to do.”

“O-Okay.”

“Uh-huh.”

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

No one spoke a word as they got in the car and started the drive back.

Raz seemed content to continue his efforts to blend in with the background of his seat, still not meeting anyone’s eyes, and Lili stared out the window with her chin in her hand, leaning against the car’s backdoor and letting the lights of the city bathe her in neon sickness.

Helmut, bless his soul, dutifully kept the radio going while he drove, changing the station to something more mellow whenever a song started getting a little too upbeat for the collective mood of the vehicle. Bob sat in the passenger side with his arms folded awkwardly. His brain was buzzing, dreading the inevitable conversation he needed to have with his great-niece and trying to figure out how he was going to go about it.

It surprised them all when Raz spoke over the music.

“It was my idea.”

The two adults glanced at each other, then through the rearview mirror at the fidgeting teen.

“Your idea to go looking for a drink? Or to sneak into a bar to do it?” Helmut asked, turning off the radio.

“Both.”

He still wasn’t meeting their eyes. Bob sighed through his nose.

“I don’t believe you.”

Razputin’s head finally snapped up to stare at him in shock for the fast call on his bluff. “I’m telling the truth!”

“I think you’re only telling part of it, kid.”

“No! I’m telling all of it.”

“Razpu-”

“Oh, come off it, Raz,” Lili snapped a little too loud, making the whole car jump. “Quit trying to take the fall for me. It was my idea to try the stupid fake ID thing, okay? Happy now?”

“Wh – uh, who said anything about being happy about it?” Helmut asked, legitimately confused.

“Look. Neither of us had anything to do tonight, and we were bored, so Raz suggested getting a drink somewhere, but Adam and Lizzie are out of town so we couldn’t ask them.” She crossed her arms and spoke without any inflection. “So, we went out but no one would let us do anything cause we’re minors. I thought that was stupid, because we’re agents same as any of you, so I came up with the sneaking-in part. We only got caught cause one of the bartenders recognized Raz from a show.”

There were a lot of loaded things to parse through from that explanation, but Bob’s mind stalled on one particular detail.

“Adam and Lizzie give you two alcohol?”

“Not…often,” Raz admitted. “Just once or twice, when we asked.”

“Do you mean like, a literal once or twice, or a…an estimated once or twice?”

“Did Dad put you up to this?” Lili shot back. “It was just a few times, like he said. What’s with the inquisition?”

“…Lili –”

 “Raz.”

“Okay!” Helmut proclaimed as he slapped his hand against the steering wheel in boisterous aggression. “Who wants some ice cream?”

Everyone stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Cause I’m really feeling some chocolate-vanilla swirl right now. Basic bitch style. Right? Who’s with me?”

Silence.

“Great! Look at that, open Dairy King right there, better take advantage of this opportunity before it slips through our fingers like the melting ice cream we’re all gonna have in about five minutes!”

The psi-king swung into the parking lot in a frenzy and herded the car crew inside before any of them could come out of their shock long enough to protest. It was only as Bob was staring up at fifteen flavors of oversaturated sugary goodness that he realized what had just happened.

He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief over his husband’s diversion. The tension that had been boiling over was cooled significantly by the sudden non-sequitur, and while the teens were rather half-hearted about picking out their sweet treats, there was no longer a risk of an explosion happening.

Metaphorically and literally.

Helmut caught his spouse’s eye with a meaningful look at Lili the moment all of them had their orders in hand, then slung his arm around Razputin’s shoulders and steered him away. “C’mon my lad! Nothing like the cool night air of three in the morning to keep your Hurricane ™ properly chilled!”

The poor boy had no choice but to let himself be pulled outside, leaving the two Zanottos standing awkwardly in the dingy restaurant. Bob gave a nervous scratch at his chin under his beard.

“How about we, uh, find a seat somewhere?”

Lili couldn’t fully cross her arms while holding ice cream, but she did a good job of making it work anyway. “Sure.”

They sat in a booth in the farthest corner from the front counter. Both great-niece and great-uncle stared at their respective sweet treats as if they could teleport them out of this situation. Bob glanced out the window and saw Helmut and Raz standing outside of the car. The former was on one knee with his hand on the teen’s shoulder, speaking earnestly but inaudibly, and the latter was scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the asphalt.

“Are you going to lecture me?” Lili finally cut through the silence.

Bob turned back to her. “No. Not really.”

“No?” She broke her gaze away from her ice cream just a little bit, eyeing him with surprise. “Then why did Helmut take Raz and leave us alone?”

She was so perceptive, so smart. And yet, still so young.

“Well, I… I still want to talk to you about what happened. I’m just not very, good, at this kind of thing.” He took his spoon and absentmindedly began drawing a flower in his soft-serve. “You already know what you did wasn’t a good idea, right? So I don’t think a lecture would help things any on that front.”

She didn’t respond. He continued.

“It’s less about the fake ID and more…the reasons you made the fake ID. Does that make sense?”

“I guess so, but I know what I’m doing, Uncle Bob. I’m not going to drink irresponsibly.”

The herbophanist shook his head. “But you’ll do irresponsible things to be able to drink in the first place.”

“That’s not –” Lili didn’t have a good rebuttal. She folded her arms and grumpily started eating her cherry chocolate delight. “Whatever. It’s two different things, anyway.”

Against his better judgement, Bob began picking at his own food as he thought about how best to bring the subject back up without making the teen defensive again. Spoons clicking against teeth was the only sound between them for a solid minute.

Finally, an epiphany.

“Did Truman ever…tell you anything, about your great-grandma?”

The girl paused with a bite halfway up to her mouth. She frowned, confused. “Grandma Tia? Not much. Just that she died when he was a baby.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she did.” He ran a tired hand over his face. The ache in his heart might have long-since healed into a scar, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when pressed. “She passed away when I was nineteen. The doctors told me it was liver failure.”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Lili’s mouth thinned and she put her spoon down, uncomfortable.

“When I…found out the reason behind her death, I was horrified by it. It didn’t make sense to me why she would willingly do something that hurt her so badly, especially when I was right there to love her and help her. It felt like a betrayal that she never got help or made herself stop. I was…disgusted by the mere thought of doing anything like that.”

Bob took a moment to breathe and wipe his eyes. He wasn’t crying, but better safe than sorry.

“It sounds pretty hypocritical when I say it now, doesn’t it?”

His great-niece only gave him a hesitant look.

“Anyway, uh, where was I…” He worried his lip. “Oh, right. I told myself that I’d never touch the stuff after that. I was angry at what she’d done, and I was determined not to have the same ‘weakness’, so to speak. As you know, it, uh, it didn’t last long. I was at a college party barely a year later when I was invited by some friends to drink with them. I didn’t make human friends very easily back then – actually, I still don’t – so I was a little desperate to keep them. It turned out to be pretty hard whiskey, so I got hammered.”

The man leaned back in his seat, staring at the patterns in the booth table.

“Back then, no one really knew how alcoholism could run in a family. Everyone thought it was a personal choice to keep drinking. It wasn’t even classified as an addiction yet. So I didn’t know how susceptible I was, or how careful I had to be. I’d spend months not having a single drink, thinking I was fine and could handle myself, and then I’d get plastered for a week at parties and bars and God knows what else, and it would take me even longer to get myself to stop again. It was like that even when I was with Ford and his gang. It wasn’t until I started dating Helmut that I started trying to change those habits. I’d never met anyone who loved me so unconditionally that I wanted to be a better person for them, until him. And it worked for a while.

“Well, barring our wedding, of course. I got shitfaced at the reception. It was embarrassing afterwards, but Helmut told me it made our cake-eating ceremony a hell of a great time.”

Lili snorted, and it was accompanied by a tiny upturn of her lips. Then it dropped as her expression became solemn. “And then…everything with Maligula happened, right?”

“Yeah. I think you know the rest of that story.”

“Uh-huh.”

Great-niece and great-uncle sat together for a while, just thinking about it all.

“I know I have to be more careful drinking than a lot of people, Uncle Bob,” Lili finally said at length. “My dad warned me about it when I was old enough to ask.”

“Truman is a good dad,” he murmured in response.

“The best dad.”

“Definitely the best dad.”

More silence.

“I didn’t mean to worry you and him,” she continued. “Or scare you. I know it was dumb to do what we did tonight.”

Bob looked at her, and she gave a conceding sigh.

“Okay, it was dumb to do a lot of what we’ve been doing with this stuff. That doesn’t mean I’m not being careful.”

“Kid, it’s not always just a matter of being careful. I thought I was being careful. I thought that for years and years, and when I finally realized I wasn’t, I convinced myself I could stop any time I wanted to, and kept up the same patterns anyway. That’s what I’m trying to get you to understand. I just don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. I’m just worried about you.”

Lili closed her eyes with a grimace. “I know. I’m sorry, Uncle Bob.”

“Hey, kiddo, look at me.” He waited until she did so. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not disappointed, either. That’s your dad’s job. I get it, is what I’m saying. It gives you a buzz, and it’s fun and exciting, and you just wanted to have a good time with your, uh…”

Bob leaned in a bit, and dropped his voice to a stage whisper.

“Is Raz still your boyfriend?”

“Wha –” her cheeks went red. “Yes, he is!”

“Alright, sorry, I’m just always out of the loop. No one ever tells me when these things change or not. Anyway,” he continued before she could get brighter than the cherries in her ice cream. “I’m just saying that you gotta be more than careful with this kind of thing. Everyone should be, really, but especially people like us. Plants aren’t the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family, unfortunately, so we just have to be aware of it and act accordingly.”

The teen turned this over in her mind. He could practically see the gears moving. When she looked at him again, it was with a slow, contemplative nod.

“No more late-night bar-hopping?” Her great-uncle asked.

“No more late-night bar-hopping.” She answered, sincere.

“Good.” He looked outside. Helmut and Raz were both lying on the front of the car, pointing out stars to each other. The sight made him smile. “Come on, we’ll work on that whole thing about Adam and Lizzie giving you alcohol another time, when it’s not three in the morning. For now, let’s rejoin our boys again and go get some rest, okay?”

“Okay.” Lili slid out of the booth and tentatively took her family member’s hand. His fingers squeezed hers in reassurance. “And...thanks, Uncle Bob.”

“Well, what can I say. Us weird Zanotto plant people hafta look out for each other, right?”

“Right.”

They walked out together, hand-in-hand.

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

A/N: I knew from promotional material that we'd be going into the mind of someone struggling with alcoholism, but Bob's Bottles punched me hard in the gut. It's probably my favorite mind in the game, both because it's visually gorgeous and because it hit a little close to home with some of the themes, like generational alcoholism and how the addiction can make someone a shell of themselves.

I wrote half of this three weeks ago and then found myself really struggling to finish it because it brought up a lot of old feelings I thought I'd sorted through a long time ago.

Psychonauts, man.

#psychonauts 2 #psychonauts 2 spoilers #Bob Zanottto #Helmut Fullbear #Lili Zanotto #Razputin Aquato #Bob Zanotto/Helmut Fullbear #psychonauts

[oonajaeadira]

If You Will Let My Heaven Touch Your Stars (Ezra x f!reader)

Rating: Mature. 

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: FLUFFY SMUT. INSPIRED BY THIS. Non-explicit oral (m and f receiving). Formatting may be strange in certain Tumblr themes due to paragraph spacing with the poetry.

A/N: Okay, y’all. I was looking for another reason to write some Ezra. I got inspired by this naughty confessional post and felt the need to rise to the challenge, but make it a bit soft. You know I’m allergic to writing physical doings without some emotional yearnings. So it has come to this. And I’m not sorry.

Summary: Ezra runs his mouth over some poetry. You run your mouth over some Ezra.

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MASTERLIST

_______________________________

You know that sigh. It will be shortly followed by a gravelly, dissatisfied “hm.”

“Hm.” 

Next will come the impatient flipping of pages as Ezra learns that the book he’s chosen from the stack he got in trade on the Pug is…”less than literary and more than malignant.”

“What’cha reading, Ez.” The main node on the electropulse generator blew during the last harvest and you’ve been doing your best to repair it for the better part of the scaling period. Better to keep eyes on the electrics than let them wander over to his bedroll where he’s stripped to his skivvies, propped up against a crate, reading.

The rotation of Ranakh-4 is almost sixty hours, and in the north hemisphere there’s always light. Should be perfect for prospectors to take shifts and get things done, but instead, it creates a scaling period--a good fifteen-hour window of intense heat and sunlight that’s too dangerous to be exposed to for long, causing lots of nasty side effects. Including skin scaling. Hence the name. So during that period you and Ezra hide in the cooled tent, sleeping, polishing gems, maintaining equipment, wasting time, and generally trying not to annoy each other too much.

That’s a joke between you. In the years you’ve known him, Ez has yet to get under your skin. Ezra’s usually up for a game of dice or five-stand during scaling period, and if you’ve got gear to clean or inventory to count, he’s good for a story. Or ten.

But after the third rotation he stopped playing games of chance with you and his stories got gradually less... crusty. He still had a lot to say, but he stuck mostly to mining anecdotes, weaving around salacious details and editing himself in the moment.

And you’re pretty sure you know why.

This isn’t the first posting you’ve had with Ezra.

There was the assignment on Phintreas. The job on TG-19. The second assignment on Phintreas--that one it was just the two of you. Just like this one. 

There was a moment near the end of that run when you took a break from digging to stretch, arching your back in the dappled sunlight and pulling your arms up and back toward the thick foliage tops. There were singing insectoid creatures on Phintreas and you’d dropped your wrists to your head to listen to their song a little, closing your eyes and hearing in their hum the chords of a song you used to love.

It was just a few seconds, the warm air on your bare shoulders, the long thin trees--actually large grass--rising and swaying above. A pleasant stretch in your lower back. But there was something off. Your ears were full of insect song but there was something missing. 

The sound of Ezra’s digging had stopped.

You turned to find him taking a break, leaning on his shovel, jumpsuit open and pulled down to a knot at his waist like yours. Dirt-streaked arms and undershirt, looking at you, staring with sad eyes, the long slopes of his mustache running into his patchy beard making him look like he was pouting more than he was. Probably. Totally lost in thought, his eyes slid down your torso. When he woke to the fact that you caught him using you as a backdrop for reverie, he didn’t even have the balls to be embarrassed. Just realigned his focus on his shovel and went back to digging, the veins straining out on his big hands.

“You okay, Ez?”

“As well as one can be, sweetheart. I feel we’re close. It is a fine day full of wonderments.”

You’d thought about that look in the days afterward. Didn’t really know what it meant for you. Until the final sleep cycle on that grass planet, the wind traveling through the fields making the grasses sing hollow and low in the night. 

“What’cha reading, Ez?” You’d come to learn that it was a magic question, one that not only got you an explanation, but perhaps a chapter or two in his baritone twang.

And that night, as you packed your final bag, he swung the spine around to read out, “Papas Cordel, Love Verses.”

He didn’t ask you if you wanted to hear any. He just started to read.

Softly. Slowly. The words were innocuous on their own but their combination was sinful, his voice melting at the back of your brain, lifting the fine hairs of your neck, slithering down your spine before making an orbit to press upon your core and vibrate there. 

He never said goodnight. Just read you a few poems full of worship and yearning in that sonorous voice of his, then rolled over and went to sleep. It left you in a panic, trying to control your breathing, in full understanding of what that look from a few days ago had really meant.

And for the duration of your next couple of jobs you spent some time in regret, wishing you’d decoded your feelings sooner or that he’d made his own clearer. You’d vowed that if you ever had the chance to go back and live that night again you wouldn’t hesitate to….what? To do what? You never got that far. Didn’t matter. Time doesn’t go backwards. After a while, it was easy enough to convince yourself that you’d just read too much into it, that you didn’t really feel anything and neither did Ez. He had just been tired and staring into space that day. And he’d just been aesthetically moved by the song of the grasses in the night wind. It was a trick of the light, and the more you rationalized it, the further the memory slipped into the realm of silly fantasy.

So when this assignment came, you’d had time enough to leave the fantasy behind and met Ezra as you always had--as a friend and a damn talented prospector you were happy to dig with. The man always got his haul and getting paired with him always meant profit.

It only took one scaling period to make you realize you were lying to yourself. 

Scaling period means getting somewhere shaded and cooled and making yourself as comfortable as possible. Which means stripping down to essentials. All those dice games trying not to look at Ezra’s broad, bared chest, looking up from a hand of cards to find his eyes quickly darting away from you…. By the third rotation you’d noticed that neither of you could make eye contact with the other anymore and after that, Ezra generally spent his downtime during scaling periods laying on his bedroll in his skivvs, reading one of the dozen books he’d scavenged back on the station.

You weren’t sure if you were flattered or embarrassed or even injured that he wouldn’t move on whatever he was tense about. But, ultimately, this arrangement was easier.

Or so you lied to yourself.

A “what’cha reading, Ez” got you a few chapters of an old time-travel adventure or a philosophical treatise on the life of some forgotten pioneer while you mended a garment or recounted the supply of viable drill bits or tried to fix the damn faulty electropulse generator for the millionth time. Something rollicking and full of resonance to keep your ears busy and your mind distracted while you focused your eyes on anything but Ezra’s bronze skin and sable eyes and full lips and big hands and thick thighs and--

This time he clicks his tongue and runs a hand through his hair, humming a high note in a kind of frustrated laugh. “I won’t devastate your ears on this one, sweetheart. Not much of interest here but some poor soul ruttin’ and scraping for talent that eludes them. How this found its way into a thing to be bought and sold I will never understand.”

And yet, he keeps reading. Silently.

After a few minutes and another wire successfully cleaned and reconnected, you repeat yourself, taunting him.

“What’cha reading, Ez.”

“Mm.” He just flips through a few more pages, refusing to answer.

“Hey.” You chuckle into your work. “What’cha reading.” 

You hear a huge intake of breath before a hold and a forced release.

“Wow,” you laugh. “Fine. Don’t waste breath on it. Just tell me which one it is so I can avoid it later.”

“Love and other Stars by Aeon Aido Raja.”

“I see. What’s it about?”

“Sadly, it is about a poet who cannot seem to make the match between words and sentiment; a volume of supposed amorous verse.”

“Amorous verse,” your hands stop working on their own. “Love...poetry?” There’s a sudden flashback to the sound of hollow reeds and soothing verses in the night. The words are a program in your brain, overwriting your inhibition and professionalism, pushing you to a deeply-coded goal to calm the flutter in your chest.

“So it claims. Although I fear it lacks full understanding of both--” His voice cuts out as he realizes you’ve stood and you’re moving toward him and his wide eyes lock to yours as you sit beside him on the bedroll. “Now what has gotten into you, sweetheart?”

You know exactly what’s gotten into you. The triggered wish of returning to that night, the built-up tension of dancing around each other in your underwear, trying to deny what’s going on, watching him purposefully respect you when you know he feels something, when he knows you do too--

What was it you were going to do if you had a chance to go back to that last night on the grass planet? Time to find out.

“Read to me.”

Ezra hesitates, unsure. “This?”

“Read it.”

His eyes flick down to follow the quick fold of your lips as you wet them with your tongue, unconsciously mimicking you, before fumbling his gaze back to the book and, with a regretful sigh, begins.

“I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--

“Walking through the light of a moon in decline-- Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

When he looks for your reaction, you’re not sure if he’s pleading with you for permission to stop or continue.

Shit. He’s right. It isn’t great. But you’re here now, you’re going to make the most of it.

“That’s not...so bad.” And then you find out what you would have done that night--or at least how you’d start--by showing him your raised palm, lowering it slowly toward him. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” Your hand travels down through the air, just to the inch above his skivvs, waiting a moment in the aura of radiated heat there, before settling lightly over him. He never says no, never takes his eyes from yours, the only reaction coming from a small lift in his chest, the corner of his mouth curling just a fraction, and the fabric beneath your hand quickly becoming the only thing there to qualify as soft.

“Sweetheart, what you’re beginning here--”

“The only words I want from you are that poem. I want to hear you read. You stop, I stop.”

The heat hangs heavy between you, burns beneath your hand. And with a huffed exhale, Ezra starts again.

“I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--

“Walking through the light of a moon in decline-- Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

Supporting him from underneath, you’ve begun running your thumb up and down him, and his breath hitches, bringing him to a stop. So you stop.

“You stop, I stop, Ez.”

“Believe me, gentle one, I do not wish the impediment of your affections--”

“Then don’t stop.”

In a beautiful panic, Ezra looks back to the poem. “You sure you want this one?”

You nod. “I don’t care how good it is. That’s the poem I want. Keep going. I've always liked your voice. I know you can make it pretty.”

He stares at the page a moment, and you push him--literally--gasping into a start.

“If ever I could tell you When my heaven touched your stars If ever I could tell you Beloved--”

You stop palming him when he stops to breathe, and it’s only when you trace his waistband with your fingertips that he swallows and continues, willing you to keep going--

“Waking in the night to the aching void of your embrace-- Can you forgive me if I plead your name? If I summon you to my body from wherever you are?”

Whether it’s the want in his voice or just getting further into the words, the poem is already getting better. His eyebrows begin to push together and arch, as you stretch the top of his underwear down, wrapping your hand around him. His words start riding the occasional groan which just resonate with you more and you rock yourself against the bedroll in time with your gentle, yearning pulls--

“You hold me adroitly With accurate proximity To keep your breath and my breath Two founts and one pool. To swim a in star-reflective stream of our holy recreation--”

He’s doing so well, the words wandering out deep and breathy, so beautifully controlled...until you lower your mouth to him.

Then there’s a strangled staccato grunt as he adjusts, takes a couple of quick breaths and continues--

“But your body is a.....wildfire Your lips a destruction And I give my everything over to your….cleansing devastation.”

Oh, his struggle is glorious. You can feel him trying not to buck, needing to blow out a breath between pursed lips here and there to concentrate on the print. He reads with intent, leaning into context and feeling, making a gift to you of every word.

“I have yearned for you to find me worthy of a spark An ignition... The rebirth of your combustible attentions.”

He pauses again to breathe, and while you allow him a small reprieve, he’s stopped a little too long and you abruptly halt. When you pull back to look up in reprimand, he gives you a soft smile through his panting, shaking his head in wonder. You know he’ll have plenty of praises when this is over, but he doesn’t seem to want to break the spell to say them now. When you return his little smile, he looks back to the page and continues, prompting you to return to your own administrations.

“How you draw from me each sweet effusion-- Every secret vein untapped-- Now yours in expert execution, Now open to your burning maw.”

He pushes through the poetry rather than into you, allowing you to hear him and match him. Your body begins to counter-react as you feel him brimming, turning on more need in you than you’ve felt in a while, and you show him just how well he’s doing by doing well by him. 

There’s a shift in his voice as more breath enters in and nonverbal noises begin to punctuate the words; a shift in his body as his fingers tangle in your hair and grip tightly, suggesting a final rhythm-- 

“But within the fire An aperture of...divine precipitation Where those of us who live untouched Can go to drown To die To howl…..! To see the blessed face of eternity Or the….busting open….of a thousand….wretched….stars-- You-call-me-to-sinful-prayer You-invoke-my-abject-soul I find myself in debt…!...and thrall…!... to your superior…!...divinity--”

When he stops reading this round, you show mercy as he pounds his fist into the bedroll and makes his own additions to the poem, exclamations made up of your name and curses and calls to higher powers. You can only expect a man to expel from himself wondrously one method at a time, and Ezra’s earned his reward so beautifully.

Damn his opinion. The poem was perfect. You chose correctly. Either that, or Ez’s tongue really can spin any old refuse into gold.

But the book is still held high, and as you lift from him and guide him through his aftershocks with your hand, he breathes heavy though the final verse--

“This is how I love you from afar With agony and forlorn words While you hover forever in my purview A shaft of dazzling incandescence Shining down from your sun/star Through the glass of my desire Starts and restarts an everlasting blaze”

Then, setting the book reverently on the bedroll, he takes your face in his hands, dragging his thumbs across your lips, no longer needing the page for the last lines.

“If ever I could tell you And if you will let my heaven touch your stars If ever I could tell you Beloved--”

Ezra’s kiss is achingly grateful. He tries to put into one kiss the loving equivalent of everything you’ve just done for him.

When he pulls back, he gives you the tiniest rough shake, a punctuation of his playful consternation. “Mmm,” he grunts. “While I am glad to know you find my recitals pleasing, you’re about to find out that my talent for oral ministrations do not stop at mere recitation.” With a miner’s strong arms he flips you over him onto the bedroll, making short work of your underwear and pinning your legs around his shoulders in a matter of seconds. “Now, I will not be so cruel as to make you put words to my reciprocation, unless you’d like to fill the silence to direct me to your will. Or say what you please. I will not be able to add to the conversation as I will be otherwise occupied.”

You don’t know if it’s years of running his mouth or wagging his tongue or yapping his jaw, but he’s well practiced in using allllll the muscles therein to help finish what poetry couldn’t quite accomplish.

At one point you think of surprising him and trying your own hand at reading while being entertained. But when you fumble for the book, it opens to the same poem.

But not the same poem.

The opening lines are there: “I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--Walking through the light of a moon in decline--Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

And that’s it.

That’s where it ends. The whole published poem--a mere seven lines.

Oh, Kevva. That’s...that means….

Damn, Ezra. The mouth on you.

The book drops to the bedroll.

And you break into pieces as his heaven masterfully consumes your stars.

________________

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Taglist: @melobee @extraterrestrialdork @14mcmd1122 @grogusmum @cannedsoupsucks

#soft ezra #soft!ezra #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #fluffy smut #pedro pascal #ezra prospect smut

[samstree]

36 for kiss prompts and/or 23 from touch prompts?? i'm so happy for your dynamic return!! 😌

Lean on Me

36. “kissing away tears” + 23. “carrying the other one in their arms” from the touch asks. Thanks for the prompt, my dear! <3

In which Jaskier is a stubborn idiot. Geralt is there for him.

(1.4k, aftermath of torture, mentions of blood and injury, panic attacks, vomiting, read on AO3)

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“Oh, finally!” Jaskier lets out a sigh, his ribs aching at the exhale. “My dear, you don’t know how I’ve longed to see your beautiful face! These two gentlemen—on top of being the rudest persons in the entirety of the Nilfgaardian empire—have the most hideous complexions I’ve seen! Seriously, does being a royal torturer suck away your soul along with your good looks?”

“Shut up, Jaskier.”

Geralt fumbles with the shackles around Jaskier’s wrists, refusing to look up. The motion pulls at the flayed skin a little. Jaskier gasps when one of the restraints falls to the floor. He uses the air to resume his rambling.

“Dull as fuck, they are. It’s always ‘tell me where they are, or we’ll beat you to death’ as if I didn’t infer from their mean faces on the first day. Urgh! So unimaginative! You’d think an army that swept through the continent could hire someone more competent. Professionals, maybe—”

The other wrist comes out and Jaskier abruptly tips forward, his knees giving way. Luckily, strong arms catch him around the waist without a moment of doubt, and Jaskier finds himself face to face with the prettiest amber eyes in the world.

“Hey,” Jaskier says, realizing that he’s bitten his lower lip in a panic. The old wound reopens and he tastes blood. “Did I ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?”

A gentle hand comes up to push back the hair in Jaskier’s eyes, revealing his forehead and, undoubtfully, the gash there and all the dried blood. He feels exposed like this.

“Jaskier,” Geralt breathes, the whisper too careful for Jaskier to handle after all these days. “You are in shock.”

“What? No, I’m not!”

Jaskier frowns, and struggles on his feet to prove the point. If only his legs would cooperate and stop feeling like jelly. Geralt trails his fingers down to cup Jaskier’s jaw, a thumb hovering over what must be a patch of bruises by his lips. He presses down with the barest touch and Jaskier hisses, which tugs at his ribs again.

Geralt’s brows are knitted together with worry. “I need to get you out of here fast.”

“There’s no need to look so constipated, Geralt dear. I told you I’m fine. This—” he gestures to the tiny torture chamber. “—is nothing!”

With that, Jaskier takes a step towards the door—well, what’s left of it after Geralt smashed through the poor thing. Each step feels like he’s walking on a cloud. His arm rests on Geralt’s shoulder but refuses to lean into his witcher’s solid strength. Geralt doesn’t seem convinced, with a hand still at Jaskier’s waist, just shy of touching his throbbing side.

“Let me tell you, they couldn’t even follow through on most promises. Apparently, the emperor himself gave orders to keep me alive. I’m a valuable asset! So, you see, all the talks of opening me up with those colorful gadgets were nothing but empty threats. I could laugh at those idiots!”

As they stumble out of the room, Jaskier can’t help but get another glimpse of the table full of devices—pliers, knives, a chainsaw, and something that looks like a stack of thick needles, except every five of them are attached to make the perfect shape to go into someone’s fingers.

A shudder runs down his back—not from fear, of course. It’s a draft in the hallway.

“Hmm. And they are the idiots.”

“For messing with me and not finishing the job—Oh, there they are.” Two mangled bodies are barely visible in the dark corner, with blood seeping into the floor. “Did you give them hell? I bet you did. The White Wolf’s wrath is no joke, not when his bard is taken. Not that it was too much of a bother for me, mind you. I’m fine.”

The urge to repeat the word is overwhelming despite the crack in his voice. Jaskier licks at the cut on his lip just like he’s done in the past few days. It was the only soothing motion he could manage while being bound in metal. The warmth of Geralt’s body is miles better, so much so that a disorienting fog is forming before Jaskier’s eyes, darkening the edges of his vision.

“Sure you are. Just…hang on, just a little longer,” Geralt pleads, a bit desperately. For what, Jaskier isn’t sure.

Geralt takes Jaskier’s elbow with his other hand, guiding him forward toward the exit. He’s acting like that again, like he’s around a spooked horse or scared children. Jaskier turns in confusion and rests his temple against Geralt’s cheek, but he’s rudely dislodged quickly.

“Portal,” Geralt warns.

Before Jaskier has time to react, cold wind is cutting into his cheeks and his bare feet sink into thick snow. Kaer Morhen stands tall as always, and Jaskier wants to sag with relief—

Before a spell of nausea hits him in full force, turning his insides into a swirling mess. Jaskier can barely push Geralt away before crumbling onto the icy ground and heaves out whatever little content in his stomach. There’s not much. It’s not like a prisoner’s diet is on top of Nilfgaard’s priorities.

“Portals… Can’t complain when we are in a hurry, right?”

Jaskier chokes out a laugh while trying to wipe away the bile at his lips. The coldness is creeping up on him, making him tremble like a leaf. He hugs the hollow of his stomach, but the involuntary spasms jostle his sensitive ribs again, drawing out a whimper. Everything hurts. His mouth is filled with cotton, his head pounding like fireworks exploding inside his skull.

The next attempt to stand fails, and he ends up in a heap of misery with nothing but the raggedy shirt on his back. Jaskier takes in gulps of air but can’t find any release. His lungs are burning with the aftershock of panic.

It’s like a dam breaking. The reality sinks in, of what could have happened. Of what did happen.

Jaskier knows he’s crying. Tears are rolling down his cheeks with abandon and freezing in the cold air. He can’t hide them, not when he doesn’t even have the strength to lift a hand.

A coat wraps around his shoulders, and Jaskier shudders into the contact. Geralt lowers into his vision, his head tilted so their gazes can meet. Amber eyes are flowing with patience, so much patience.

“All right,” Jaskier finally croaks, “perhaps…there’s a chance that I’m, um, I’m not quite fine.”

Geralt’s palm finds Jaskier’s cheek again, careful not to aggravate the bruises and the broken skin. Their foreheads rest together, and the only thing left in the snowy world is the sound of Geralt’s breathing. The grip on Jaskier’s airway loosens, allowing him to match the achingly unhurried rise and fall of Geralt’s chest. The familiar scent of leather and sweat is in the background, the best soothing balm for his frayed nerves, always.

Slowly, the storm calms.

“That’s it. Breathe with me, just like this. You are safe. I have you now. I have you.” Geralt murmurs into his ear, repeating the last sentence like a mantra. “I have you, Jask…”

There are more tears, but soft lips catch them in a lover’s caress. Jaskier lets himself melt into his witcher’s presence, lets his tears be kissed away.

“What should—” His teeth chatters. The snow is numbing his toes, the tingling bordering on pain. “What should I do?”

The world spins again, but this time upward. Geralt’s arms are so steady as he lifts Jaskier in one swift motion and carries him toward the keep.

“Lean on me. For now.” The corners of Geralt’s lips quirk up into something akin to a smile, but not yet. It looks physically impossible for Geralt to smile right now. “Lean on me, and don’t worry a thing.”

And Jaskier does. He leans into Geralt’s neck and rubs his damp cheek into the scent there. The sniffles don’t go away for a long time. His breaths are still shuddering, but for the first time, there’s nothing Jaskier wants to say.

For the first time, Jaskier only wants to bury himself into Geralt’s coat, into the quiet safety of his favorite witcher, and ease his mind into oblivion.

---

Tagging: @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard​ @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #hurt jaskier #jaskier whump #cw: blood #cw: panic attack #cw: vomiting #cw: torture #geralt x jaskier #soft geralt #protective geralt #jaskier being a brat #kissing away tears #hurt/comfort #chrysa your prompt was so soft #but i was in a hurt the bard mood again #oh well #there's nothing i can do #might as well lean into it

[goldengoodness-aura]

Saturn-Uranus aspects~ The pain of individuation

When Saturn and Uranus make contact in the birth chart (hard ones) it can indicate huge trauma on the physical body, and also a lot of difficulties in the process of becoming oneself. Saturn represents the physical world, as well as our limits and the rules and structures of patriarcal societies. When Saturn-Uranus make hard aspects, it's very possible to feel as if those harsh social systems are crushing your soul and stealing your life source and you aren't able to free yourself and live your life. As I've already said in other posts, Uranus represents multimensional energy, so, I can suggest that this patter is happening in a large number of lifes and the spirit is probably at the very frist stages of individuation, which means that, at your deepest core, you have a huge desire to create your own life, but you also feel hostage of many pressures from authorities, hierarchy and "the way the world has been build". You may feel a puppet of patriarchy. Or you may have been persecuted or arrested for trying to do something to change your life and the life of people around you for the better. You may feel the need to break the chains, but, at the same time, so much fear and so many emotions of deep constriction (including physical constriction) may be under the surface and become obvious when you try to give some step towards freedom and your own self. It's very common for people with this aspects (although not everyone will resonate with this because it really depends on the overall soul planning) to feel suffocated by what's socially expected from them, by their parents, by teachers, by school/university, by their work environment, anyway, by everything that represents the "normality" as it has been stabilized. Actually, it's pretty common for them to feel as if they are living a lie, that they are "selling" their own heart, soul, their own energy, that they are tering themselves apart because of this inner paradox of wanting to express their individuality and being TOO afraid to do that (again, have compassion for yourself because this fear has very real roots. Talk to your body and let it show to you the trauma that it carries)

For people who feel that way, I want to say that you have to recognize this huge challenge within your own inner self and affirm to yourself that, even with all of this pain, you DO have the right to be yourself. Yes, YOU DO! Many parts of you may disagree, and they may be very hurt and sad and they may express how much burden and abuse they have been through, but now you do have the right to step in your own two feet and scream your inner self out WITHOUT GIVING A SHIT. FUCK YOU, WORLD, I'M GONNA TO BE MYSELF THIS TIME, AND I'M GOING TO HEAL MYSELF, I'M GOING TO RESPECT MYSELF AND I'M NOT A SLAVE ANYMORE, I'VE NEVER BEEN. I'M A FUCKING DIVINE BEING WITH ALL THE RIGHT TO BE HERE AND YOU CAN'T FOOL ME ANYMORE. NOW I'LL EMBODY MY STRENGTH AND MY WISDOM AND I'LL LIVE THE LIFE I WANT TO LIVE!!!!!!

Always remember that, at the core of all existence, we are all equals, no matter what our human selfs have gone through. You do need to take your feelings seriously, not because they are the ultimate true, but because they will show you what you need to release from your emotional, psychological, physical and energetic bodies to be able to feel more intensely and consciously the amazing beauty and the unconditional freedom of your own soul.

A special thank you to Snowkestrel for inspiring me to write about Saturn-Uranus on the birth chart. By the way, you asked about the quincunx between this two. Quincunx are extremely hard aspects, because they represent huge crises (quincunx are associated with virgo and scorpio, which are the symbols of huge personal transformation, as well as huge pain). I'd say that Saturn quincunx Uranus would have major difficulties to understand even the concept of being able to be "free" or being able to be oneself in a system like the one we live. It'd be something like: OMG, what are you talking about? I don't have a clue. I know this is not the case for everyone with this aspects, because people are much more than their birth chart, people are extremely complex, but I'd suggest that this symbols can represent that inner confusion. Also, like a said, many many many possible physical traumas, in a large number of the soul other-lifes.

If you read this post, let me know if it ressonates. And also always remember to be gentle with yourself if it does. Take a deep breath, stretch, go drink some water and respect your incredible complexity. And decide that you are ready to heal, even if it's hard, decide that you are a divine being living a human experience and even the most painful things are not who you are at your essence.

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