#(as always::> thank you for being patient with me ehe)

[vonbirden]

current status !

eight drafts, twenty three inbox(s), many things to send out that I owe ( ♡♡!! ) pages to be finally done & as always, icons, because I always give up after a few attempts. might need to make a thread tracker too so I thrive.

[ikinremu]

i have a feeling tommy’s so talented in bed he can make girls squirt… maybe a fix about that!! please and thank you!

Hi anon!! Thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy <3

Messy

Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

! Smut warning !

—> drabble <—

Tags: fingering, oral (f receiving), squirtin, praise

“Tommy-“ You mumbled as his head hovered between your thighs, spread gently by his large, splayed hands, veins running prominently under his skin.

“Trust me, love.” He smirked, eyes flickering briefly over your own, the heat of his breath brushing over your exposed cunt - sopping with anticipation. “You can do that, eh?”

You certainly were capable of that, trusting his touch was no issue. You gave a clear nod of confirmation, thighs twitching beneath the possessive grip of Tommy’s fingers, spreading you apart for his taking.

“Such a sweet fuckin’ cunt, isn’t that right?” He groaned out the words, raising a single, tame brow expectantly as his mouth lingered a mere inch from where he knew you needed him most, “Just begging for me, isn’t it?”

Your fingers found securely into the chair beneath you - the very same chair Tommy worked upon everyday, pinned behind his desk. Though today was different, he simply had to have you exactly where you were. And you certainly hadn’t a thing to complain about.

His tongue swept against your soaked folds, stroking slowly upward, eyes set entirely on you. Instinctually, your back formed a soft arch, pushing your trembling hips against his tongue, drawing a chuckle from his lips.

“I know,” He spoke lowly, “Be patient for me.” He instructed, blatantly amused by the manner in which you pulsed against his tongue, “Let me take my time with this sweet little cunt of yours, mm?”

The taunt shot a shiver down your spine, only fuelling your arousal with the gravelly tone he spoke in. You didn’t quite know if you could be patient; not if it meant being unable to touch him for much longer.

Tommy swept his tongue in small, supple circles round your clit, purposefully teasing as he flicked the tip against the swollen nerve, groaning at the mere taste of you on his lips. It was as though he completely lost himself in your taste everytime his head was buried between your legs, tongue thrusting in and out of your bare, drenched pussy.

“Give it to me, good fucking girl.” He uttered, muffled by the warmth of your cunt, snaking his palms over your ass, the silk of your skirt tickling his knuckles as he squeezed possessively beneath.

Your thighs shook a little against his jaw, struggling to maintain steadiness as his lips suckled softly at your clit, making you writhe in pleasure against his desk chair.

Your thighs twitched around his face as his lips suckled softly at your clit, making you writhe against his desk chair.

“Oh my- Fuck-“

Tommy was perfectly aware of the effect he had on you; he knew what he was doing and he absolutely knew he was good at it. It didn’t matter how ever many times you two were together like this, he’d always have you ruined by the end. Like a cycle - one you didn’t wish to end.

His two thick, skilful fingers pressed together, tracing your pussy in time with his tongue, pushing slowly inside the sopping heat.

“Get them wet for me, that’s right.” He encouraged, the lustful words coming out amidst a heavy groan, feeling you soak his fingertips.

A rather loud, breathy sound escaped your throat as they entered.

He thrust his tongue over your clit so very flawlessly, beginning - only gradually - to pump his fingers inside you, curling against your most sensitive spots at a teasing rate.

You allowed your head to drift back a little, eyelids fluttering like blinds over your vision as his smirk brushed your thighs. His tongue further stimulated your clit, drawn between his wet, pillowy lips occasionally as he quickened the pace of his fingers, stroking them over your g-spot.

“There- Fuck, right there..” You mumbled, nodding desperately, harshly gripping the chair as Tommy directed his focus to the very spot you desired.

You clenched hungrily around him, squeezing his fingers tightly, never quite able to resist seeking more.

The pressure of his fingers combined with the utter pace of his tongue was driving you completely insane, making your chest rise and fall at a shallow pace. His hand, warmed and slick by your skin, caressed the curve of your ass eagerly - as if claiming it as strictly his own.

A familiar sensation possessed your stomach, winding like a tight coil as Tommy worked tirelessly against you, the feeling of a release heating within your abdomen.

“Do you feel that, sweetheart?” He muttered against you, fully conscious of the answer, “You love the way I make you feel, hm?”

It was insatiable.

You nodded, a gentle whine fleeing your mouth as your hips bucked hungrily against the pleasure he provided. A breathy sound followed as you felt yourself near the very brink of your orgasm.

He maintained the pace of both his mouth and fingers, endlessly driven by the feeling of you trembling against him, clenching mercilessly around his thrusting fingers.

Suddenly, your orgasm struck, and he showed no intention of halting, fucking you through the intense wave of your release, fingers curling repeatedly against your g-spot. You let out a particularly loud moan, and without a morsel of warning, your arousal coated his tongue, shooting against his mouth as it sprayed down your thighs.

Your eyes couldn’t resist but widen, a gasp slipping your tongue as the colourless release covered his tongue, a smirk tugging at his lips as he tasted you.

“Fuck, come on my fuckin’ tongue, love, that’s right. Feel it.” He encouraged as your breathing grew far heavier, “Let go for me.”

In utter disbelief, you allowed yourself to melt into the feeling, arousal trickling down your thighs, practically soaking your skin - it was unlike anything you’d felt before.

Tommy knew the feeling was fresh, entirely new to your senses, and he only devoured the taste more.

“Oh my- Tommy..” You whimpered as you came down from the feeling, warm skin dripping with your own release. “I’ve never-“

Tommy pressed his open mouth to your upper thigh, hot and slick, trailing his tongue over you, soaking up the taste. You failed miserably to steady your breath, watching his eyes burn a path to your own as he ran his thumb over your sensitive flesh.

“Just look at that.” He taunted, vacant hand utilising itself by cradling the back of your neck, thumb pressing against it as he soothed you, “Shame, all over my desk chair.” He chuckled. “Made a pretty fuckin’ mess of yourself there, eh sweetheart?”

You truly had, and it was blatantly obvious Tommy was overly pleased by the event, satisfaction painting his lips as he studied your marvelling expression, “Let’s clean you up.”

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! I’m working through a lot of requests so thank you for your patience if you’ve sent one in <3

[runnning-outof-time]

A (Debatably) Lovely Dinner | Tommy Shelby & Daughter!Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby & Daughter!Reader

Summary: (Y/N) has her family over for a dinner that she worked so hard to prepare. Her father and uncles tell her that it tastes lovely...but are they actually thinking that?

Warnings: drinking, language

Word Count: 1773

A/N: this is the first daughter!reader fic I’ve written in a bit - I hope it’s good. I’m excited to be writing requests again! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories!

(Y/N) wrang her hands together as she looked over all of the pots that were currently boiling on the stove. She took a breath and let it out slowly, trying to compose herself and shake the nerves from her body.

"You're doing great, love. It's going to be a good meal," her husband, James, offered some encouragement as he came up behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the side of her head as he pulled her into his chest.

"Maybe I should have accepted the catering offer? There's a lot of people coming over," she expressed her worry, eyes still focused on the pots. She then began to wonder why she even agreed to hosting her family in the first place.

"This is going to be extra special because you made it all," he told her, kissing her temple once more before letting her get back to work. "And your cooking is wonderful," he complimented her, sending a smile her way as she turned to look at him.

She smiled back, although it wavered due to the nerves she was still feeling, watching as he exited the kitchen before she got back to work.

(Y/N) was bringing the final dish to the dining table two hours later. She smiled at everyone who was waiting patiently for dinner to start and took a deep breath as she moved to stand behind her husband's chair.

"James and I would like to thank everyone for coming tonight. I hope that you enjoy what I've prepared for you to eat," she gave a small speech, her nervous smile still present as she then sat down.

"Let's eat then, eh?" Tommy suggested, smiling at his daughter from the opposite end of the table. He was proud of her for this vast spread that she'd managed to cook up. It smelled wonderful to him.

Comments of agreement came from around the table as everyone began taking dishes and spooning helpings of the food onto their plates. (Y/N) watched as this happened, wanting to make sure all was well; filling her plate last.

Dinner began quietly, the sounds of forks hitting plates the only thing to be heard. (Y/N) couldn't help but sneak a few glances around the table, wanting to see if there were any problems. All looked fine to her.

Somehow, she didn't manage to catch her uncles, John and Arthur, throwing sideways glances at each other in between each bite they took. Something about the taste seemed off to them. Whether it was the seasoning on the roast, or the choice or cut of the vegetables, the food wasn't exactly pleasurable to eat.

But the pleased look on their niece's face told them that she was happy to have the family over, eating a dinner that she worked so hard to prepare. They couldn't even think of ruining things for her by bringing up the fact that her cooking was well under par.

And besides, Tommy seemed to be fine with eating it, and he never ate anything.

Dinner continued and small talk was made. The usual discussion of business between the Shelby family had been swapped for stories of the past and the men making arrangements for their annual hunting trip that was fastly approaching.

All was well until (Y/N) decided to ask the table for opinions on the food. "How has everyone been enjoying the food?" She wasn't sure if she was being too upfront in asking for opinions, but no one had offered any prior to her question, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't dying to know their thoughts.

"Lovely as always, darling," her husband, James, was the first to share his thoughts on it, sending her a smile as he cut himself another piece of the roast.

"Thanks, James," she smiled back at him before looking out to the rest of the table. No one else's eyes met hers; their gazes cast down on their plates. Maybe that means they really like the food, she thought to herself. "Dad?" she asked after a few moments had passed. Tommy looked up at her, his brows raised as if to say 'what?' "What do you think?" she asked, curious to know what his thoughts on the meal were.

"It's good, love," he told her, nodding as he grabbed his glass of whiskey, "really good."

"Thank you," she chirped in response, feeling extremely pleased with herself. She grabbed her fork and knife then and went to cut a piece of the roast.

"Well I think that..." another comment started to come out, but it was abruptly stopped. "What the bloody hell was that for?" the voice belonged to Linda Shelby, and she was now glaring daggers at her husband, Arthur. Arthur had his brows furrowed as he glanced between his wife and (Y/N), a bit of an uneasy expression present on his face. "Spit it out, Arthur," she snapped in a harsh whisper. Arthur said nothing of sustenance though, instead just shaking his head and muttering "don't," under his breath.

"Were you going to say something, Linda?" (Y/N) asked, her curiosity peaked as she focused on the blonde woman.

Linda shared one last look with her husband, who was still discreetly shaking his head, before she plastered a smile on her face and turned to look at the younger woman. "I was just going to say that...that...this is a lovely dinner, (Y/N)," she finally shared her opinion on the cooking, although it may not have been originally what she wanted to say. (Y/N) took it though, a smile breaking onto her features.

"Aww thanks so much, Linda. I was so worried about this dinner. I'm so happy to hear that everyone is enjoying it," (Y/N) expressed her previous worries with the group, earning a chorus of 'no it was good’ comments in response.

Overly pleased with herself now, (Y/N) was smiling from ear to ear as she continued eating her dinner. Just wait until they try the dessert, she thought to herself, pride flowing through her.

The Shelby men followed James into his study after the dessert plates had been removed from the table. (Y/N) had decided to take the women around for a tour of her new home, a tour which the men felt they didn't need to join. All five of them had a glass in their hand, and they were seated on the chairs that were positioned around the mantle.

"I don't know how you do it, James," Arthur said with a sigh as he brought his glass back to his lips. He took a drink and then let out a sigh after swallowing it.

"Do what?" James was confused by the older man's statement.

"Eat (Y/N)'s food daily," Arthur didn't beat around the bush. "I mean, she's me neice and I love her, but the food she cooks is fucking terrible."

James nodded slowly in response to Arthur's statement, a knowing look present on his face as he looked like he was fighting a smile. He then took a look at Tommy, checking the waters before sharing information about the daughter of a man who could do some nasty damage if he said the wrong thing. He wasn't surprised to see his father in law looking at him.

"Well how do ya do it?" John broke the silence, signaling to the other man that he'd been taking too long to respond.

"She's my wife," he began, a smile forming on his face, "I've learned to love every part of being with her."

"Ah you've gone soft, lad," Arthur couldn't help but chuckle at the response he got before he set his sights on his brother, "and you, Tom…how do you do it, brother?"

Tommy laughed to himself as he heard the question. He brought his whiskey up and took a sip, pausing for a moment longer before finally answering the question: "guess it grows on you." His response was simple, and he followed it with a shrug.

"You both have not a clue what you're talking about," Arthur commented with a shake of his head, "John, help me out here. It's nothing against (Y/N)...her food's just downright terrible, right?" he looked to his younger brother for some back up.

"Right," John nodded, raising his glass in agreement.

"Good man," Arthur praised his brother for answering in line with him.

"I think her cooking's good," Finn chimed in from where he was sitting by the fire.

"You wouldn't know what's good for ya, Finn," Arthur dismissed his youngest brother's opinion. Finn shook his head and looked at the fire, wondering why he decided to add his two cents in the first place.

Silence fell in the room then, and James couldn't help but keep thinking about his response to Arthur's question. It made him chuckle as he realized that maybe he hadn't been completely truthful with what he had said.

"What's funny?" John asked, catching the other man's laugh.

All eyes were on him in an instant. He could tell by their intent gazes that he wouldn't be able to get out of this one. "Nothing...it's just that," he paused, letting out a breathy laugh as he shook his head, "I will admit that her cooking has been harder to learn to love than the rest of her," he shared what he'd been thinking.

John and Arthur immediately began laughing, both happy that they'd gotten the young man to break and share his actual thoughts on their niece's cooking. They knew that he felt the same as they did just by the vague response he gave earlier, but hearing it cemented the victory.

"It took me a while too. You'll get there," Tommy cut through the laughter of his brothers to offer his son in law some advice. James smiled at Tommy, happy to know that maybe he'd be able to get used to it, just like his father in law had.

(Y/N) was sitting with the rest of the women in the front room. She'd become quiet, letting the others continue their conversation about the latest fashion trends. She had too much on her mind.

A smile was present on her face as she thought back to the dinner, and all of the lovely comments she received from her family. Giddiness bubbled up inside of her as her mind went to thinking about what she would cook for their next family dinner. She couldn’t wait to have them over again!

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[billythesimp]

*BASHES DOWN DOOR* I HEARD RQ WERE OPEN

Okay here me out, Lycaon with a rabbit or cat (you decide) thiren that tried to argue with him at any chance they get. But that's because they don't know how else to act around him because of their HUGE crush on him. Basically you're typical tsundere.

That's about it, BACK INTO MY CORNER. NO PRESSURE TO DO THIS AND TAKE YOUR TIME BESTIE

-AJ🐺

Well, Well, Well~ [insert evil laughter here]

If it isn't my fellow proxy, AJ. Thank you for leaving me a request, I do appreciate the support so I put my whole Badussy into this request.

Smooches, see you soon!

Cat And Dog Fights

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…

Before I started detailing this request, I did a funny 10 pull on the standard banner. I now have C1 Von, so I dedicate this post for the good luck of those who want Von Lycaon to come home. Bless Bless, Wolf ass.

Lycaon x Cat-Thiren-gn!reader

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡…⋙

tw: Little OOc, mention of Rina's cooking /j

✦ Lycaon likes to think himself a patient man- or werewolf. He can handle Corwin’s self deprecation. He can handle Ellen’s overwhelming bored and teen rebellious phase. Rina’s cooking and antics, I’m pretty sure he puts up with, though barely. However, with this new addition to their team, he acknowledges the huge- HUGE elephant in the room. This cat thirens disobedience and clear dislike towards him, their boss. And while it’s fine when it’s outside the job, they work efficiently and swiftly when on their jobs, though they always seek to peeve him off at times, a cunning glare in their eyes when they look back at him, how they run forwards to finish his own enemies as to show off. It’s their defiance that creates problems as he can’t help but think they are trying to prove that their are better. 

✦ And usually he won’t complain, after all he hired them for their potential and knows what he’s getting into, but lately they’ve been chipping away at his patients, their coy antics getting under his fur, having to restrain a low growl when they purposely interrupt him or act out of line in front of guest or their masters. The reason Rina can only giggle behind her palm while staring at the two of them stare each other down, another one of their pity arguments being the center of attention. Creative backhanded compliments shared between the two as Corwin tries to calm the two, Ellen holding the girl back in amusement.

✦ Honestly, Lycaon can’t help but be slightly disappointed, he sees his employees as family, so to see one with a clear disdain for him makes him pout in private, seeming gloomy as his tail thumps and ears pinned back. Rina has to comfort him, all the while encouraging him to cheer up. Offering him a meal which he refuses, stating he wasn’t hungry. Though Rina can only ask that he give it his best try to be the bigger person and treat them kindly, for they don’t know what they could be going through.

✦ That being said, Rina is hiding more then she’s leading on, one second in Lycaon’s office to comfort him and then another in a private sitting quarters with said Cat thiren, brushing their hair and scratching behind their ears while listening to their childish rant- more like them denying their feelings. 

▿

While sitting before Rina’s small puppets, they paw and rack the little phantoms on their heads, watching them evade their attacks before being pulled back towards Rina’s lap. Having to sit still was difficult enough, but Rina promised to comb their hair and get it nice and pleasant for their next trip. “Ah, you need to take better care of yours. Lycaon will scold you if your headpiece isn’t perfectly centered- or in one piece in general.” She giggled before properly setting the cutest fabric on their head and giving their ears a little scratch.

“Eh, who cares what he thinks. He can just fix it himself if it bothers him so much.” With a hiss, their tail thumps besides them before they use it as a distraction from their overwhelming thoughts on said werewolf. “Oh, I think you do actually care about his thoughts on you.”

“Ehehe- Yeah you do!”

“Sir Lycaon, did you see that! Hehehe”

“Oh Sir Lycaon, see how great I am!”

“Great! Great!”

“H-HEY SHUT IT!” The cat hisses at the teasing from the little boos, Drusilla and Anastella spinning around before returning to Rina’s figure, avoiding the nasty glare said cat was giving them. “Now, now kitty. No more fighting- you already do enough of that with Von,” Smiling before moving them to sit upright, the figure before her slumping again and leaving her to adjusting them again til they stay, “Though, you know if it’s attention and praise you want, maybe fighting less with the boss would actually get you the results you want.”

“Pffm, as if.” They only pout to themselves, muttering quietly as Rina takes out a needle and starts stichting up their uniform where little tears and rips had formed. Whether from their battles or their tendies to claw at the fabric when they don’t know what to do with their hands. “Even if I wanted it, I don’t even know what I would say…”

“Oh, and what makes you think that kitty? Von would be more than delighted to compliment your achievements, after all he looks highly of you. You’re an amazing servant here, he couldn’t be more proud of your growth. He told me himself.” While she gushed her Boss’s supposed claims, the thiren’s tail swayed quicker then before, the adorable pout on their face turned into that of an embarrassed frown, afraid to speak out of fear of word vomiting. “Oh Kitty, promise you’ll try to be nicer to Lycaon. As much as I adore your little cat-dog fights, I would like it if you both got along much more.” 

They yelp as Rina ‘accidently’ poked them with the needle, ears flatten as they only mumble out a silent promise. Blushing as they think of how they could try to be nicer, distracted at how Lycaon would react to their change in demeanor, tail returning to playfully bat Rina’s hand while lost in deep thought.

▿

✦ After this conversation, Lycaon finally notices the little changes in their Cat’s behavior. Offering a hand in his tasks, though they still have their little backhanded comments, they are obedient nonetheless. He could tell that they seem to be warming up to him again, not running away from him as much and willing to calm down and listen instead of enlightening another fight between wolf and cat. Really, He’s glad they have improved since then, also making an effort to respect his fellow thiren and help them however he can. 

✦ He sees how much they enjoy the headpats and scratches the girls give them, how they have a subtle purr from the affection and praise they give them. So after a mission complete, satisfied with their work today, he gives them a little head pat and congratulates them on the great. While at first they don’t respond at first, tired from the day's events, they suddenly perk up and jolt away, rambling an indescribable comment and turning tail to run off into their safe house. He can only tilt his head, tail wagging as he couldn’t help but enjoy just how soft their hair is.

[wutheringcaterpillar]

I was wondering if you could write something for Peaky Blinders where the reader is a mix of Tommy and Arthur, who grew up with the Shelby’s and ended up being their business partners and Tommy’s fiancé, only for him to ship you away for your safety after a business meeting gone wrong and you come back to find him married to Grace as he believed the reader had died while away due to no correspondence. Thank you so much if you can 💖

Warnings: Altered storyline, orphan!reader, sad ending

thank you for the request, apologies it took a moment to come out. Thank you for being patient, hope you enjoy lovie🥰

Growing up with the Shelby’s wasn’t for the weak, but since a young age they had taken you in as their own.

Ada taught you how to fight for your rights and never allow a man to take control of you, whilst Arthur was the one who always reminded you to keep fighting when things get tough, to not supress any anger or rage as he did.

Then there was Tommy, the voice of reason, the one that promised protection over you and put the most interest in your life.

Through the years you’d grown immensely close, a shy attraction forming but never having the courage to approach the matter until a small kiss was shared on a drunken snowy night at the pub. 

From there things began to escalate, Tommy going as far as proposing and the family being overjoyed. The profound bound you shared with one another was unbreakable. That was until a villainous person of character brought trouble and you were his main target.

Tommy wasn’t quite sure how but the man had figured out where you were 24/7. A car reappearing constantly was never found, a familiar face never near. When they’d attempt to break in while you were at the betting shop alone Tommy realized he couldn’t risk it anymore, couldn’t risk losing you. Eventually sending you off to stay in Boston and promising to return when the situation was handled.

As days turned into weeks, weeks turning into months there had been no contact made on your part, leaving Tommy to presume you were dead and they had found a way to you.

Wanting the reassurance, he sent Charlie out there to investigate. But when Charlie arrived at your secluded flat, the place was a mess. Clothes and papers scattered, half bowls of food on the counters and what looked like to be blood covering your sheets, so he assumed the worst, eventually confirming Tommy’s fear that you had passed and your body was nowhere to be found.

Now here you were entering through the corridors of the Arrow House after tracking breadcrumbs to figure out where your long lost love was living.

Heads turned to stare in disbelief and side conversations unfolding from your powerful presence.

What you weren’t ready for was to see Tommy standing there with a blonde woman with an expensive necklace wrapped around her neck, his hands firmly placed caringly on her arms.

“I need you. I need you alive Grace.” The scene unfolding before your very own eyes churned your stomach in disgust while your heart thumped rapidly from the anger and heartbreak in your chest.

“And what about me then Tommy?” You shouted loudly causing everyone’s heads to turn in curiosity.

Whipping his head around from the sound of that voice he once cherished that he never thought he’d hear again. Grace followed his eyes, brows furruowing in confusion.

“Tommy who is this?” 

“Who are you?” You quipped back without missing a beat, resentment and anger laced in your voice.  Tommy felt everyone’s eyes glued on him, but that didn’t change the murmur in his heart.

He felt like the universe had come to a stand still. How could this be? It couldn’t, no. He had confirmation you were dead but yet here you were standing right before his very own eyes.

When Grace tried to approach, Tommy released his arm causing her to come to a hault.

“Why don’t we go to my office. Somewhere more private without lingering eyes and ears, eh?” Arthur and Ada stayed near their corner, watching the scandalous scene of events, nearly choking on their drinks when your heels clicked forward, hand striking the middle Shelby across his face vigorously before storming off in anger.

Ada set her glass down knowing she’d need to intervene with Grace, surely Tommy would want to talk to you alone.

Waving his hand, the music restarted, fellow bussiness partners and coneseuirs going back to their socializing as if nothing has happened.

Closing the office doors behind him, Tommy placed his hands in the pockets of his pants to hide his trembling hands, watching you rummage around his desk drawer for a cigarette as his crystal eyes remained calm and collected.

“Y/N. I thought you were dead. I didn’t-“ You slammed the door shut, lighting the cigarette allowing the nicotine to burn your lungs euphorically while flipping you hair, unphased by your ex fiance.

“I’m going to stop you right there. Tell me, did you even look for me? Or were you already far past me when you sent me away. Was that it? Was it all for her?” The crackling in your strained voice and the water building at the brink of your heartbroken eye lids shattered Tommy inside, lips parting agape while he couldn’t seem to find the right words.

There was a knock at the door but neither you or Tommy answered, gazes still locked in a windwhirl of scattered emotions, stuck laying in the bed of deceit and heartache that he caused.

When the knocking insisted on, he hadn’t known it was Grace on the other side when he shouted, “For christ’s sake we are busy! Fuck off!” She was taken aback by his tone, scoffing and twisting at the door handle trying to jiggle open the locked knob.

Scoffing at the tone of her high pitched, annoying voice yelling to be allowed in caused your blood to boil.

Picking up the glass bottle of liqour, you threw it with strong velocity and a hateful intent, just barely missing Tommy’s head as the object shattered against the door behind him.

“Jesus christ! Fucking calm down eh? I didn’t fucking know Y/N-I-“ She still didn’t stop.

“Fuck off you fiance stealing tramp!” Her efforts diminished, face turning pale when she heard what you said. So that’s who you were.

“Now with the whore gone, give me a fucking answer that I am damn well entitled to! Did. You. Look. For. Me.” He knew you were right, he should have looked, should have seen for himself but he didn’t want to bare seeing your lifeless body.

His fingers rubbed together at his side, head dropping down in guilt as his eyes wandered, mind pondering why the fuck he just assumed. There were plenty of moments where his men gave him false information, wrong information. 

“You never wrote back Y/N. I tried for months and sent Charlie to look for you. He told me there was blood in your bed and looked like no one had been there in weeks. I fucking thought you were dead. A day didn’t go by where I didn’t blame myself, I should have held you closer, should’ve never sent you away.” You scoffed in disbelief, crossing the room and pointed a finger accusing at him, pushing his chest in the process and he was more than willing to take the hits.

“If you cared enough you would have shown up for yourself you fucking bastard! Yes they fucking found me but I got out, the blood was from me killing those sick bastards. I disposed of their bodies, by myself might I add while you sat here just fucking the whore from Ireland not giving a shit about me! Do you know how much I struggled? I had no fucking money, none of you sent help for me or even tried but I’m more disappointed and angered with you! My fucking supposedly dearly beloved soon to be husband, I can’t believe I-“ His lips smashed against yours, silencing your words as his hands cupped your cheeks.

The taste of his whiskey, partially chapped, alluring lips caused your mind to flood with memories playing out like a movie scene in your head but you were stronger than this.

Pushing him away you slapped him once more, eyes entranced in one anothers in a moment of silence. Clasping his jaw, he shook it off like it was nothing. This wasn’t going to work this time, he couldn’t just seduce you and everything would be one happy fucking rainbow.

“Don’t fucking touch me. You have no right! I’m not some pawn in this twisted story Thomas.” 

He hated how his mind worked, he knew it was fucked up but was hoping his lips on yours would draw you back in, make you realize he was never once over you. It was his way of saying sorry.

“Y/N I will leave her, anything you’d like. I just want you. I need you Y/N.” You laughed in disbelief of the irony and disbelief of his choice of words and began to pace the room, your heart no longer aching but void of any feeling.

“Really? Isn’t that what you just said to her when I walked in the room? I won’t be the next chapter of another great Thomas Shelby redemption arc. I can’t. I refuse.” Tommy didn’t cry often but this time he couldn’t stop the singular tear from streaming down his cheek.

The air was heavy, the silence heavier, nothing but the clock ticking in the background filling your eardrums while your aching hearts split in half. 

You couldn’t be here anymore, didn’t want to be. How were you to love a man that threw you away so effortlessly. You knew him well enough to know he was just telling you what he believed you wanted to hear. Rule number one, don’t give your heart away to someone undeserving. He had taught you at a young age that true love was a fragile, difficult thing to come across, you just didn’t think he’d be the one to throw your away.

Making your exit, you wiped away the tears, refusing to give the public the satisfaction of knowing that Thomas Shelby had broken your heart as everyone said he would long ago.

He watched as you left him alone in the room with nothing but his thoughts, cursing himself for the man that he was as he watched the love of his life exit through the door for the final time.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: yo, work is driving me nuts.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Lady Jazlene, a queen by marriage, cries herself to sleep. You stay until she snores and snuff the candle as you leave her on her stomach atop the stuffed mattress. You emerge between the guards and wonder if they keep people out or keep her in. 

They don’t react to you. No one really does. A shadow approaches. The thickset man grunts at you as the moonlight shines off his dark mail. Bryce waits patiently as you near him. He turns and walks beside you in silence. 

Much of the camp is asleep. The only fires that remain are those of the soldiers on watch for marauders and bandits. Your soles kick loose pebbles and trample flattened grass further. You yawn as you reach the luggage carts and find the one you rode in. The grey horse is tie to the axle, dozing on its feet with puffing nostrils. 

“The road will not get any less turbulent,” Bryce warns as he grabs his bedroll from across his mount’s rump. “You will need sleep, maid.” 

“Thank you, sir,” you lift the canvas draped over the back of the wagon. 

He grumbles and unfurls his roll across the dirt. You climb up and nestle down beneath the cover, pressed against a chest as you curl up. You hear the soldier lay down with a groan, “...too sweet...” 

You close your eyes and rest your head on a bent arm. The darkness quickly swallows you up into slumber and the day fades into obscurity. You’re not conscious long enough to dread the one ahead. 

As the sun rises, heat gathers in the cart. You wake in a damp sweat, nearly suffocating as you gulp up cool air. You slip down onto your feet and grab onto the cart to keep from stumbling. Bryce grunts as your soles crunch on the ground. 

“Eh, where’re you off to?” He sneers. 

You look down at him. His eyes are still closed as his grey steed sniffs at the dirt close to him. 

“Sir, I... I haven’t... relieved myself since... erm, well...” 

“Go on, but not too far,” he opens his eyes and sits up. “Holler if you meet trouble.” 

The horse huffs into his steely hair and he pets its nose. He grabs onto its reins and hauls himself up. You quickly spin and flit away. You go off into the brush where its thick and squat down, your skirts gathered above your knees. You miss the springs behind the castle where you would bathe with the other maids, you could use a wash now. 

You finish up and peer over the stretch of bodies, horses, and carts. You set off back toward the cart and as you come in sight of Bryce, he unties a dented kettle from his saddles. You feel much better without the pressure beneath your guts.  

“I could fetch water,” you offer. 

He looks over his shoulder. You think you surprised him. 

“Quiet mouse,” he mutters and faces you, gripping the bent handle, “I can manage a potful of water.” 

“Yes, sir, I only was being helpful.” 

“You stay, take Daisy to find some fresh grass,” he points to the horse. 

“Daisy?” You look at the beast, “is that her name?” 

He shrugs and stalks off. You go to the reins and loose them. You glance around and lead her over to an unyellowed swath of grass. She dips her long neck and grazes, tearing the strands noisily as her teeth clack. You pet her ear as she comes rather close to the hem of your skirt. 

Heavy steps tramp up behind you. You don’t bother looking as you assume it’s Bryce. Those who are stirring are barely able to lift themselves out of their rolls. The lazy rise of dawn does not inspire fastidiousness as the clouds haze amber and rose. 

“Fine horse,” the king’s timbre rumbles over you. 

You turn and bow your head, “your highness.” 

He inhales through his nose before he speaks again, “are you a fast rider?” 

“I’ve never... I don’t ride, your highness,” you reply, staring at his black mail, just at the center of his chest. “It isn’t my horse.” 

“I know it, I thought perhaps...” he begins and shifts his weight in his boots, “you might’ve secreted away the mare. That you would be sick for your home.” 

“Your highness? No, I wouldn’t--” You put your hand to your apron, “I am not a thief.” 

He pauses and his thick fingers toy with his belt, fiddling with a leather purse, “that isn’t what I...” he blows out in exasperation, “I do not think you dishonest. In fact, you are the most honest creature I’ve met around here.” 

You keep your eyes down, “I only mean to feed the horse.” 

“Yes, I believe you,” he assures, his tone glum, “forgive my inference. Truly, it wasn’t intended as such.” 

“I understand, your highness,” you say. 

“It was a jape, a poor one, I suppose,” he hooks his thumb in his belt and turns to pace. “I wanted to thank you. I have yet to figure out how to handle Lady Jazlene but you keeping her company, I do appreciate it.” He stops and crosses his arms as he faces you again, “last night, what you heard and saw... we are strangers still, her and I.” 

“I am a maid, your highness, I serve the lady and you now,” you reply, “that’s all I do.” 

His arms bulge before he drops them, “yes, I suppose for you, the matters of nobility are dull.” 

“It is not of my concern, your highness,” you say, “I am to see that all the wine and food and little things are taken care of.”  

You peer up at the sky as the dimness slowly recedes. His figure looms below and he slowly treads closer. You squeeze the reins. 

“You serve the queen, the king, and... a horse,” he reaches to touch its snout, dragging his knuckles along its grey fur. “Make certain we are fed and content.” 

“Whatever is needed, your highness,” you answer and watch his hand stroke the horse. 

“And what do you need?” He asks. 

You quork your head and stick out your lip. It's an odd question. You have what you need. You have a place in the cart, you have some nuts left over from Bryce’s generosity, and you have some hours sleep behind you. 

“Nothing, I think,” you say. 

He scratches behind the horse’s ear, “and what do you want?” 

You purse your lips. You think. Another strange inquiry. What should you want? That’s not something anyone ever worried for. You only troubled after what others wanted. 

“I... I want to see the snow,” you say at last, “I think I dreamt of it but I can’t remember. I don’t really know what it would look like but I remember once Merinda spoke of it. She knew a stable hand who once lived in the north.” 

He’s quiet. Your answer isn’t very interesting. To him, the snows must be so tedious. Nothing more than ordinary. He makes a clicking noise. 

“I want to see the snow too,” he pulls his hand away from the horse and for a moment, he seems to reach for you, recoiling short of touching your grasp on the reins. He withdraws and presses his thumb to his teeth. He hums. “We have far to go before the snow...” he rasps, “should you require anything for the road ahead, you may ask.” 

“That is kind, your highness, but I don’t expect I require much,” you assure, “thank you.” 

“Mmm,” he drones as he faces the sunrise and sets his posture, “onward.” 

He marches away as you stay and watch Daisy munch on the grass. You comb your fingers through her main, loosening the tangles. When another approaches, you glance over. Bryce tidies his own hair with his hands. 

“Water is boiling, maid,” he declares, “I have some spare mint leaf for tea.” 

“Yes, sir, thank you,” you smile down at Daisy and move out of reach of her teeth. “I will stay with the horse until she is done.” 

“Hm, aye, I understand,” his forehead lines, “she is much more pleasant than I.” 

He nods and turns back the way he came. You watch after him as he goes to sit before the hanging kettle, a low flame burning beneath it. He rolls his shoulders and hunches forward as he plants his elbows on his knees. These people of the Hinterlands are not so cold as they pretend. 

⚔️

The long train continues through the lands. Some days slower than others. There are some where progress stops at midday in favour of passing through a village or approaching a nearby farm. The king departs from the larger party, riding with his soldiers to greet the commonfolk. Lady Jazlene refuses to accompany her husband in favour of her silk tent and wine. 

The pauses in your trek makes you curious; you only ever heard of King Waleran showing his face to the citizens during the harvest festivals and self-aggrandizing ceremonies. You never saw the king yourself, only heard Lord Dustan and his wife resentfully complain of how the king never made the journey to Debray. Did he not recall that once a duchess was married to his great-uncle? 

You spend the hours in Jazlene’s company. She wants her wine and mutton. You notice that her appetite for the former has grown since the first day’s travel. She even requested that some casks be sought during one of the king’s visits. He acted as if he did not hear her entreaty. Their few encounters since that first night have been terse and short, neither offering much more than a word or two. 

The queen swirls her cup, watching the motion of the wine within. She giggles and puts it down, picking up the looking glass and admiring herself. She sits on a wooden stool, her skirts dusted with the dirt of the road. Despite the filth, she insists on sporting a new gown each day, no matter how extravagant. 

“What a fool? To think he is wasting his time on commoners,” she trills, “you know, he should be here, worried about his wife and queen. Not married a week and all we’ve done is ride anon. I’ve had no wedding, no feast. How I am neglected for these dirty farmers.” 

You say nothing. You’re not certain she recalls you’re there. She speaks to herself often as if her mother is there. A few times, she has even called for the duchess. Often when she’s nearly finished the bottle. 

She pouts and sniffs. She drains the cup completely and puts it down heavily on the crate next to her. She grips the mirror with both hands and looks at her reflection. She contorts her face, sucking in her cheeks, pushing out her lips, turning her head this way and that. 

“Aren’t I beautiful?” She nearly whispers. You don’t flinch. You stare at your hem. She sighs and stomps her foot, “I’m asking you!” 

You peek up at her, surprised.  

“Yes, your highness, you are very beautiful.” 

She frowns, “you lie to me.” 

“I wouldn’t lie, your highness.” 

“Don’t argue with me,” she snarls and slams the mirror down, cracking the glass on the crate. She stands and blusters around, her skirts catching between her legs, “if I am beautiful, what makes me so, hm? Tell me!” 

You stare at her. She is beautiful. You always thought so.  

“Your hair, your curls, your highness, they are beautiful.” 

She rolls her eyes, “just my hair?” 

She wobbles slightly as she struts towards you. 

“Your eyes. They are pretty too. And you have a nicely set nose. And your lips are finely curved, your highness,” you explain as she looms closer and closer. 

“Hmph,” she stops, slouching drunkenly as she leans in to consider you, “of course you would say so. Look at you. So plain. An ugly handmaid.” 

You stare back at her, a strike in your chest, then drop your gaze. It is the wine. She huffs, her alcohol-laden breath tinging your nose. 

“The king,” she babbles as she turns on her heels, swaying dangerously, “we’ve only lain together our first night. It was... quick. He didn’t want me to sleep with him,” she raises a hand and flutters her fingers, “he shooed me away like some whore.” She spins and falls onto the stool, “if I am so beautiful, why does he not want me?” 

You watch her. She isn’t looking for your answer. She’s talking to talk. Lady Rezlyn isn’t there so she has only herself and stagnant air trapped in the tent. 

“It is my duty to have his babies. To give him heirs. I cannot do that if he will not touch me. But perhaps when are in one place, he might try again,” she smiles and lifts the broken mirror. She tilts it and lets her hand drift down to your bodice. She pushes her chest up, “when he lets me take this off, he will see. He will want me.” 

She convinces herself as she preens at her reflection, “perhaps it won’t hurt.” She looks around and sees the bottle of wine. She grabs it by the neck. She grips it and wiggles it at you in the air. “He’s even thicker than this,” she puts the mirror down and balances the bottle on her palm as she circles her fingers around the bottom of the bottles neck, just before it rounds out, “and longer.” 

You stare at the silk wall, mortified by her words. She giggles and the movement of her hand draws your eyes up. You watch from under your lashes as she brings her hands up and down the bottle neck. 

“Mother says, just like this,” she pumps it, “that he should like it very much.” She stops and focuses on the bottle, “mmm, he is a man underneath it all.” She tosses the bottle away, “and I am a beautiful woman. He will want me.” 

You lower your eyes again and twine your fingers together. You can’t help but feel bad for her. You only wish you had some words of wisdom or comfort to offer her. Or that she would hear them. You can’t help but touch the fading bruise along your stomach as you languish in the tepid silence. It’s better to let her forget you. 

[rosescarlette]

-> Zhongli with a strong s/o.

Being the geo archon has its price. Both disadvantages and advantages at his hands. He didn't mind much. Every quality he had he would treasure them equally.

That was until you came along.

Mortals in his eyes are quite fragile. You let them go once, they're gone forever. So he cares for every mortal equally.

Nevertheless his strength was indomitable. Surpassing mortals by A LOT. He doesn't mind much.

When he stepped down and later met you. That's when he started being proud of his indomitable strength.

"Li can you help me carry these?"

Hearing you ask for help, he'll always be happy. Proud that he's stronger than you. In a silly way of course. Even to just renovate things you'd ask him for help.

It doesn't bother him much really. He quite likes having to lift.. nothing. So yes large objects are nothing to him. So he would happily do the things you've asked. It also gives him quite the advantage that he could always lift you up with ease.

But one day good knows how busy he was. Work didn't quite help it. And at home you need to move a few things around but he wasn't there. He isn't home yet because he's busy at work. So you decided to do it yourself.

Immediately rushing the work and completed he would immediately try to reach home. That's always going to be his number one priority. Reach home and see you.

But today was different. When he came home.. he was shocked.

Shocked to find you lifting a heavy object all by yourself. No help needed or anything. You were too focused to hear him come in anyways.

"Darling?"

As you heard the voice, you immediately looked at the direction and your face brightened immediately.

"Oh hello!!"

"What are.. you.. doing exactly..?

"Just moving some stuff around why?"

He was stunned. Stunned you were able to lift up that thing with ease.

"You.. don't feel anything?"

"Other than a bit heavy not really.. why?"

Still stunned that his beloved was able to move stuff around easily.

However he felt a bit hurt. That he wouldn't be able to get all the compliments now, that he wouldn't be able to feel his ego boost up again.

"And.. you.. never asked for help?"

"Eh no why?"

That was the final straw for him. Later that night poor zhongli was sad that his s/o won't ever ask his help for anything. Well it took you a lot of effort to comfort him and say it was okay and that you'll need his help later.

But zhongli just wanted to help you and not let you do any work.. :(

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

-> Note :

Am so sorry for not posting for a while😭😭 my mental health was currently not good and neither is my physical health right now.. academics doesn't make it any easier for me :( But am really glad you were all patient for me :D I really want to thank you guys.

Also sorry if this was trash btw I am having writer's block along with art block rip. Again thank you again all!! Have a great day :D

[astralnymphh]

patterned palmistry ⋆ | ellie williams headcanons

༺ ellie x witch!reader headcanons/scenarios ༻ ☽𖤐☾

✧˖ ° 🕯 bright blessings!

an: being the witchy little gremlin i am i just had to throw some hcs together for myself but ofc i'd share them here🙄ive been practicing witchcraft since i was 15 so it felt fitting to incorporate it whenever i brace my delusions at the bootycrack of midnight that r all abt ellie 💀 regardless this def isnt gonna be my only witchy hcs post i just didnt wanna spoil all my ideas right away <3 tags: MDNI, slight nsfw (no detailed smut), boob jokes, witchcraft (obv), tarot, palm reading, mostly convos, flirting, not mentioned in the writing but u 2 r alrdy dating, playful bickering, more natural casual writing with some bigger words, no specific religion tied to the practice, generally a fluff piece, lowk cute moments. °________________________⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆__________________________°

I. ☆ ellie definitely had a peak in curiosity the first time you mentioned you immerse yourself in the world of the craft, her ears perked figuratively and were tuned in to learn what that entails. she may not forfeit a nip of skepticism right away but she's more than happy to engross herself in the idea of it. you'd stay up till first light rambling on about the 'rituals', 'divination', the history tied to it and why you practice it. you'd be lying in bed adjacent to her, heavenward to the ceiling, but interwoven in a warm and loving cuddle with her palm residing on your lap whilst you chatted.

"mmmmh-" ellie's hum churns 'round your bedroom, "so that's why you collect rocks."

"crystals."

"same thing," she drones an inwardly giggle, "which crystal will give me superpowers?" a witty remark springs from her tongue.

"babe.." you pout, acting offended yet none is taken.

"didn't mean it like that, y'know I believe you, it's all just new to me." ellie tapes an assuring kiss to your temple, "tell me about your favorite crystals, hmm?" 

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

II. ☆ now because of this, anytime you're out on patrol and delight the opportunity of scavenging, she always keeps in mind to find you flowers, rocks, unused candles and other oddities of nature.

"hey babe! I found a black candle for'ya." ellie bolstered a long glass cylinder filled with an opaque charcoal wax, wick still intact, "and- ..some wild lavender." her other arm swings from behind her back, twines of dusty purple lavender upheld in a pinch.

"fuck yeah, needed this stuff.." you graciously tweak the lavender from her, whiffing up its poignant scent.

"always on the lookout.." her voice resembles her proud countenance outwards, essentially, a dorky smirk.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

III. ☆ obviously, the second you mentioned the art of tarot to her, she begged for a reading. whenever a card flew from your shuffling motions, she'd patiently wait for you to place it before her and then she'd swipe it up and admire the art piece detailing the cardstock.

"whew! look at the boobs on this one!" 

"oh- my god, of course you'd point that out." you snatch the card from her, shamelessly ogling the nude depiction that had her attention.

"you're looking at them too!"

"cuz' you said something 'bout it!" you flick the card towards her face, noting, "those are some nice boobs though." 

"why thank you~" 

"wasn't talking about you, idiot!" 

"eh, but.. urs' are the best." her hoarse tone binds a nonchalant flirtiness in its rumble.

"oh really? should we compare the.. four?"

that really stole her attention.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

IV. ☆ the first time you entertained her with a palm reading, it had her all dappy and touched to the essence at the paltry contact you made with her hand. your fingerprints drafting her calloused palms with such a gentle focus on every river lining her hand. she just wanted to smother you with kisses.

"and… this is your heart line." your finger hovers the crevice of her palm-pads stretching from index to pinkie, "ah.. it's a broken one.."

"is that.. bad?" her juniper eyes study your expression meticulously.

"it just means u're closed off, stubborn, have some emotional trauma.. stuff like that." you mindlessly fiddle with her fingers, "lines can change though, so.."

she nods, taking in the insight. she licks her slightly chapped lips clean, "am I stubborn?" her voice rises partially an octave, bending playfulness in her question.

"mm.. no."

"why'd you hesitate?"

"well- the only times ur' stubborn is refusing to let go whenever you hug me- ur' a life-size sloth!" 

"I like huggin' you though." a puppy pout frowns on her lips, "you're like a pillow!"

and oh, how your heart capers a beat, "is that all I am, williams?"

her swift speech conjuncts, "whaddid' I say about that name?!"

"I don't know, I think you like it." 

"nuh-uh I don't!"

you pepper a haste kiss to her knuckles still forcepped in your clasp, totally deterring the crime you've just committed when a half impish half taken aback smile creaks her lips.

"c'mere." vaults from her tongue before she lunges her body forward and tackles you in a saucy position riddled with love bites. guess you'll be reading her palms in a different way tonight.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ V. ☆ an bonus hc, you'd totally mention out of the void about her tattoo n the mystic meanings surrounding moths, like, its for sure one of the topics you'll ramble about one night cause you just feel so wise for knowing. "y'know, moths play a pretty large role in the metaphysical world." "really? i mean, i knew they had some kind of.. 'symbolism' to them-" ellie's hand rolls over the knoll of her forearm, reading the bumps glamoured in that beautiful inking. "yeah, like- luna moths represent transformation, renewal.. oh! and death-head moths are an omen of death.. an- and black witch moths mean either good luck, or bad-" ellie is amused at your prattle shown by her raspy giggles, legitimately having to conceal her scrunched face. "what?" "nothin' you- you're just so cute." "stop.." the embarrassment catches up to you, now having to hide your face to the shadows beneath your hands. her finger cranes out to hook and uncover your nerdy grin, assuring, "never stop tellin' me bout this stuff, ok babe?" a wide delighted beam syncs on her cheeks. goddess above, her dimples and nasal lines are to die for. ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

𖤐

in general; she's a curious dork n will ask you oh so many questions, i mean, she loves space and a futuristic sci-fi comic for crying out loud, she's alrdy so imaginative so ofc she'd be open to a realistic amount. she'd also be so respectful and helpful n defend ur practice with so much love. maybe she'd pick up some little traditions and customs like folding letters a specific amount of times, drawing little pentacles, mixing liquid in specific directions, just the simple things that grow on her.

[itsghvstfvce]

TAKE YOU BY THE HAND

pairing : jenna ortega x gn!reader

summary : the night of the met gala is reminiscent of a special night you shared with jenna

word count : 1k

warnings : none!

a/n: a short little something about jenna at the met gala while i work on the next part for 'what's in a name' <3 thank you all so much for the love you've been giving it! i hope you enjoy this oneee

You sit on your hotel bed as you admire the suit hanging in front of you.

After gaining immense success from your new film, you earned an invite to the Met Gala for the first time. The annual event is known for showcasing some of the best outfits and looks for the year, with hundreds of people tuning in to find their favourite celebrities creatively sporting different luxury brands. Although the Met Gala is known for seeing crazy, big, and loud attire, you and your stylist worked together to be on the simpler side of things for your first appearance.

But if you were being honest, being able to attend the Gala was not the sole reason for your excitement; it’s the fact that you get to attend alongside your longtime girlfriend, Jenna.

The Scream actress was ecstatic to learn that you had also been invited to attend, rambling about how proud she was and how you two should coordinate your outfits. You were on board with the idea and have been discussing with your stylists to make it work. However, Jenna said she wanted to keep her outfit a surprise until you were both ready to make your way to the museum. Even after pleading for hints and sneak peeks, she was adamant on surprising you on the evening of. Respecting her wishes, you eventually stop bugging her about it and tell her you’ll be excited to see the final result.

Your Chanel suit fits you to a tee, and your stylists and manager are stunned at your appearance. You were always attractive, that much everyone knew, but tonight you exude a different aura. You showed confidence and a fierceness that hadn’t been seen from you often, as if a hidden beast was unleashed for the first time.

“I’m sending this to your mother! She’d be so proud to see you,” your manager excitedly snaps pictures of you like they were the paparazzi. You laugh at all of their reactions, feeling your cheeks heat up due to the attention they were giving you.

“Guys come on, it’s just me in a suit!”

“Yeah, but you look so damn good in a suit! Why haven’t we put you in more suits?!” your stylist lights up with glee. Now you were expecting your future premieres and interviews to be done in suits.

After final touches, you head down to the hotel lobby. You patiently wait at the bottom of the grand staircase, conversing with your team. You’re lost in conversation, not realizing that everyone’s attention had been diverted to something else - or someone else. You follow their line of sight to the top of the stairs where you find Jenna.

Your eyes do not leave the girl for one moment. Your gaze is fixed on her as she slowly makes her way down the stairs. Jenna was beautiful, that’s a given fact, but tonight she looked phenomenal. There’s a lack of words on my part to describe how amazing she looked, yet the look on your face was enough to explain how you felt.

“Close your mouth babe, you’ll catch flies,” she places her hand on your chin to gently shut your mouth. You didn’t even realize how close she’s gotten to you, too mesmerized by her appearance. Your girlfriend giggles at your lack of speech and decides to give you a better view by taking a step back and twirling around.

“Well? What do you think?” you’re finally snapped out of your trance.

“Eh, I think I look better,” you tease. Jenna laughs and closes the distance between you again until she’s standing right in front of you, and she brushes off specks of dust and lint from your suit.

“I can’t deny that you do look amazing tonight, mi amor.”

“Says you. You’re beautiful, cara mia,” you add emphasis on the compliment and Jenna smiles as a familiar pink tint crawls onto her face. You wrap your arms around her waist, hers around the back of your neck.

“You know what this reminds me of?” you hum in response, curious to hear what the shorter girl had to say. “Prom night. The way you looked at me as I was coming down the stairs was the exact same look you gave me when I came out of my bedroom and you saw me in my prom dress.”

Your heart swells at the memory. Due to the pandemic, there was no opportunity for you to take Jenna to your prom. However, you still wanted her to have that experience so with the help of both of your families, you planned a makeshift prom in Jenna’s backyard. When you went upstairs to bring her outside, you remember staring at her from top to bottom and all the way around, ensuring that her beauty would forever be imprinted in your mind.

“Yeah, I remember. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now,” you smile lovingly.

“And do you remember what I said to you when we were dancing in the backyard?”

“When you said you felt like Belle from Beauty and the Beast, and that the entire night felt magical?”

“Your memory truly amazes me, but yes. I feel that way right now and it’s how I feel every moment I’m with you,” the last part of her sentence turns into a soft whisper, loud enough for only you to hear. You scan her face to admire all that is Jenna, taking in the features of her perfectly crafted face and you lean into place a kiss on-

“Y/N! Jenna! Over here!”

A sea of flashing lights and the calls from reporters and the paparazzi catches both of your attention, and the two of you burst into a fit of giggles. Your managers tell you it’s time to head to the museum, so you take a step back from Jenna and hold out your hand for her to take. Your fingers interlace with each other in a perfect fit, raising your hands to place a sweet kiss on hers.

“Shall we, princess?” Jenna snorts at the nickname, but finds it endearing nonetheless.

“Lead the way, love.”

a/n: i know nothing about clothing so i didn't want to try and describe our outfit too much TT forgive me lmao but thanks for reading!

[jazeswhbhaven]

👻👻Happy Spooky Month Ya'll👻👻

Have yourself a Asmo~

So as with any update of mine for the month, let's get it poppin' with some quick housekeeping rules since I've gained some new faces since the last update!

👻Don't come up in my space with the bullshit, meaning racism/colorism, homophobia, etc.

👻If you have a non-sharing yumeship do yourself a favor and don't follow me as I equally talk about and simp for pretty much the majority of the characters for this game

👻I talk and write cxc content, I always tag it so ya'll can mute it so just fair warning

👻Venting is welcome in my inbox, but no venting about other users in my inbox and using me as a mediator. That's ya'lls beef not mine.

👻Absolutely no minors.

👻Requests are s l o w. Like I still have stuff from weeks/months ago I haven't answered so please be patient with me ;w;

What's going on this month for my blog?

Uh tbh I was supposed to have a WHB OCversary event for myself and well that hasn't been going to well because of outside factors. If ya'll see it before Halloween that would be my ideal goal.

Also I was going to do a Halloween thingie like how I did for my other blog last year but I don't think I will end up getting to it...I might just update with the kings/nobles I didn't include!

Other than that keep an eye out for the following reacts:

👻Asmodeus Selfie 👻Gabriel X-mas Miracle And this is totally dependent on when my friends share the stories with me or if I get them myself. I was supposed to have a react for Levi and Mammon's bath story but I'll probably dish that out for next month instead.

Oh but another thing!

So after some thought, if I get myself together and figure out a sound schedule...and after doing more research I will possibly be opening a Patreon for ficlets/blurbs for other fandoms including this one based on a poll vote. Most of it will be never posted on tumblr so it will be exclusive to my patrons only! The tiers won't be too expensive tho. But this is still a up in the air thought and I'll let ya'll know if it's ever going forward. I'd like to think I'd get support but alas, gotta be realistic sometimes lol

Hey so, Asmodeus....eh? *wink*

yes. Asmodeus has the fandom up in a tizzy and I think that's a given. For LU(Love Unholyc) fans this has been a long time coming seeing him like this, and for folks like me who kinda know OF him or don't know him at all then yeah fucking side swept my ass.

Let me gather my strength to write some stuff about him...I want to I really do...and we shall see if I can get my brain going. There's so much potential with him too. Other than him being fine as fuck.

Anywayssssssss thank you all for following me and my crazy, engaging, and being the lovely folks ya'll are. Let's continue to simp and vibe for the bois~

your lovely admin~ ♡( •ॢ◡-ॢ)✧˖° ♡ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ

[simplegeneral]

It was an early morning in the Sky Queendom, arriving at nearly 5 am at a meeting planned to happen at 9 am, the new queen of the SandWings past her mother queen Burn's passing, Oasis and her envoy had arrived extra early in order for her to prepare mentally to meet the other queens at the now famous Queens' Summit, happening every 5 years, this time earlier thanks to the new sandwing queen's ascension to power.

Depressed, angry and above all else, volatile, queen Oasis has declared speech after speech she would deliver to the queens, but to no avail nor her own approval, being only encouraged by her envoy, the adviser, principal and all-doer Sunny and her father, the ex-king now general Sandstorm.

At around 7 am, queen Moorhen, quite often seem as the matriarch and arbiter of the summit had arrived, so confident she would be the first one there, as always happened, only to find the young queen angrily snarling fancy words around in an attempt to showcase her nobility.

" Your new majesty, queen Oasis. A pleasure to meet you finally face to face. How long have you been here? " She spoke, ever so softly and stern as a mother figure, the mudwings behind her begun to hastily unpack their belongings to guard and offer during the summit.

" Oh. Your majesty.... Queen Moorhen... Of the mudwings, of course! I have been here for a few hours, I believe... " Oasis stumbled in her memories the coherent words to say in such situation.

" Oh three moons! Energetic aren't you? In fact, I do believe where all this energy came from... " Moorhen spoke as she looked Sunny, who was approaching them from the side. " Sunny, oh my, your energy is fueling through the ground or something? Its causing our royal guest here to feel accelerated! "

" No no no, your majesty, I mean, yes, I mean, kinda of. I mean I have been advising Oasis to the best of my abilities... " Sunny yelped cutely.

" Ha ha! Oh well. Delightful as it have been meeting your person, queen Oasis, I may ask, is everything alright? " Moorhen directed towards the young queen.

" Well... I am nervous, absolutely. Such a summit, it seems marvellous but, politicing at home is complicated, and I can not imagine what will be in foreign affairs... 

- Ah, yes, indeed. Come with me, if you don't mind. Lets go to a walk to a nearby pond, we will talk there. You too can come, Sunny. "

The three of them made their way through the bushes, flowers and trees, into a large pond of cristaline waters, so pure they could see all the way to the bottom.

" Beautiful, isn't it? This pond is so refreshing, its waters so pure. It always relaxes me, and you?

- I do feel calmer by its beauty... But, what do you seek to talk with me?

- Oh. Direct to the point, eh? I see. Just like your mother! Ah, Oasis, once you live up as long as I did, the beauty of life is to live very calmly and tranquil. Your mother, queen Burn, and your grandmother before her, Oasis as well, were very agitaded and hard working dragons.

- I believe so. What do you know about my mother?

- A lot. We were allies during the succession war before you hatched. I believe I was one of the few dragons who could stand up to her, be direct, straightfoward, honest, and she always reciprocated. I met very few dragons in my life like her.

- I feel like I am her daughter but... I don't have much of anything of her, not the courage, the strength or the honesty.

- You are only so young! Be patient, queen Oasis. Let me tell you one quick story about your mother's first meeting with the other queens, at this very summit.

- Oh. Oh! Its queen Moorhen's story time!!!

- Calm down, Sunny, you might spoil everything to our guest here before I can even begin! "

The three of them sat down at the edge of the pond, and Moorhen begun:

" Your mother, queen Burn, was as nervous as you are when she first arrived at this summit. The proud warrior had a terrible charisma, her oratory was terrible and she couldn't get her ideas across in a convincing way to the council. As soon as she arrived, usually not so long after me, we would come here to this very pond and I would tell her stories, like I am doing to you, of how her mother, Oasis, stumbled on her words and embarrassed herself at courts held by other queens...

- She did? How do you know that?

- I am old enough! I saw Oasis' rise from a dragonet to the queen she would become. Burn was usually not very kind to anyone who addressed her mother with any lack of respect, but she usually tolerated my mockery because she knew I was saying light-heartedly. Oasis and I were good friends and allies back in a day, so I missed her too, it was all in good heart to remember what seemed to be better days. Oh well... So, the first time she arrived here, you had hatched only a few months before, and Burn had refused to leave you at the wingery of the palace, so she brought you ALL the way over here, and she was desperated!

' Moorhen! ' she yelled, ' I brought my dragonet over here, how embarrassing it will be when I address the council for the first time and she starts crying at the talons of my husband?! '

I said ' Calm down, Burn. I see you could win a thousand battles, but apparently you can not figure out motherhood haha! '

' THIS IS SERIOUS, MOORHEN! ' She snarled at me.

' Alright, alright. Calm down, Burn. Look. If she does cry, so what? She may or may not do anyways. Other queens are also bringing their dragonets because they do want them close, the situation is tense, its our first meeting, for ALL of us, not only you. I can list all of the dragonets who might cry if you would like. '

' Argh... Fine. Thank you, Moorhen... I can bark orders all I want, but properly address a crowd, I have never done that, it feels such a waste of time. '

' Words are more powerful than your talons, Burn. If you seek the other queens to believe in your ability to follow the international laws we seek to establish commonly among the queendoms, you must show yourself capable of reasoning, either you like the outcome or not. '

' I see. You are right... Good thing my daughter is here. I will do it for her, for I do not seek a dangerous world for her to live. '

' Remember Burn. Speak for what you love, not against what you hate. Good luck, my friend. '

- And so Burn and me nodded at each other and departed to the meeting. It was alright. Burn stumbled on her words but she delivered them with her heart in the right place, the crowd was pleased, and she proved to Pyrrhia she was a respectable leader, both in times of strife, and now in times of peace. "

Oasis had paid attention to Moorhen's words like she have never had to anyone, not even Burn in the later years. She spoke:

" Mother seemed so confident, so powerful, I confess, I never thought she could be such a nervous dragon...

- We are all normal dragons at the end of the day, Oasis. And as queens, its expected the most out of us. Known where your heart lies in, and speak with the oratory to melt their hearts, its my elderly wisdom to you, young one.

- Thank you, queen Moorhen. I... I wrote so many speeches to impress, to mark me as a powerful and decisive queen, yet none of them came out of my true beliefs, what my mother, my father, even what Sunny has told me. Maybe its too late to change all of it.

- We still have a hour until the meeting, Oasis. Its not too late.

- You think so?

- I know its not. Rewrite it. And remember the lesson your mother also had, reason your ideals, be ready to be challenged, respect the outcome.

- I will keep this in mind, thank you, once again, for sharing this with me, queen Moorhen.

- Worry not, young one. Expect nothing, deliver everything. You will do well. "

As Moorhen stayed in the pond, ever reflective, Oasis and Sunny departed back to their caravan, Oasis more than ready to write with her heart in the right place.

[soulscollection]

"𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥" 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴.

i'm a sucker for that scene where one person is injured and alone and ends up knocking on another person's door in their hour of need, and i'm an even bigger sucker for the tending to the injuries and the quiet emotional content that follows, and i'm here to make it everyone else's problem! as always, to reverse the actions, just add "+ REVERSE" to the end! i made these prompts on @soulprompts , DO NOT ADD TO THIS LIST OR REPOST OR CLAIM AS YOUR OWN.

from the injured.

" i didn't know where else to go... "

" whatever you've been told about me, whatever you've heard or seen or listened to... none of it's true. "

" at least i have you to look after me, eh? "

" would you believe me if i said i got all these injuries by slipping in the rain? "

" i'm sorry... i know this isn't what you signed up for. "

" you're the only one i can trust. "

" do you believe what they're saying about me? "

" aren't you going to say i told you so? "

" i am grateful, you know. for everything you've ever done for me... i notice. and i see you. and i've never thanked you properly before, so... thank you. "

" i know i must be the last person you expected to see tonight, but... i'm afraid i have nowhere else to turn to. "

" thank you for not asking questions. "

" i know you have no reason to believe me, much less to trust me, but... i promise you. i swear to you, i am being set up. "

" you know, you'd make a nice profit if you turned this place into a safehouse. "

" why are you helping me? "

" why the hell did you open your door for me if you're so angry at me?! "

to the injured.

" quickly, get in before anyone sees you... "

" you came to the right place. hurry, get in... "

" what the hell happened to you!? "

" are you going to tell me what happened to you tonight? "

" i assume that the rumors surrounding you are all false and unrelated to why you're bleeding out on my sofa? "

" do you honestly expect me to just forget about the past so i can bandage you up? "

" you don't need to thank me. you'd fix me up if i came to your door with this much trouble, too. "

" regardless of everything you've said and done in the past, there isn't a single part of me that wouldn't open the door when you're knocking on it. "

" we can talk in the morning. for now, you need to rest. "

" i found you unconscious on my doorstep. "

" oh, i get it. i can stitch you up and let you get blood all over my bed sheets until the cows come home, but heaven forbid i start to ask questions about why you're bleeding in the first place. "

" things must be really bad if you're trying to say i was your best chance at being helped. "

" don't be stupid. you're not going anywhere. come on, back into bed... "

" i called in sick. we have the whole day to figure out what your next moves are going to be. "

" good! you're awake. i was beginning to worry... "

" you're not allowed to die in my bedroom. the rumours would never stop... "

" perhaps we ought to let bygones be bygones. until i'm confident that you're not going to die on my sofa, that is. "

" it's a bit late to worry about dragging me into your mess, don't you think? "

" you know why i opened that door... "

ACTIONS.

[ BANDAGE ]: sender gently begins to bandage receiver's wounds.

[ BED ]: sender guides receiver into bed, tucking them in and taking a seat by their bedside.

[ FEVER ]: having noticed the receiver beginning to spike a fever, sender presses a cool cloth to their forehead to try and bring it down.

[ CLOTHES ]: after tending to the receiver's wounds, sender brings them fresh clean clothes to change into.

[ FOOD ]: after ensuring the receiver is safe and stable, sender brings them out a plate of food.

[ BATH ]: sender runs the recently-cared-for receiver a hot bath.

[ WAIT ]: aftering tending to the receiver's injuries, sender takes a seat across for them, and patiently waits for them to start explaining what happened.

[ CATCH ]: noticing the receiver beginning to collapse on their doorstep, sender hastily catches them and brings them inside.

[ KISS ]: sender, after being cared for by the receiver, breaks the tension that's been building since they walked through the door, and pulls them in for a kiss.

[ HOLD ]: having been bandaged and cared for by the receiver, sender unexpectedly reaches out to take their hand and hold it in a quiet, sincere gesture of gratitude.

[vampire-matcha]

Blood in the Wine-3

Chapter Three: Nightcap

A/N: It's finally here! Thank yall, for being patient, I appreciate all the support of the last two chapters. Shoutout to @asterionex for being a baller. As always, ask box is open xoxo

Reader x Vampire!141

Word count: 2.9k (a little shorter, sorry)

Warnings: blood, biting, suggestive elements, vampirism, mild dubcon but nothing explicit. Soap being a jackass.

Songs for this chapter: West Coast Smoker by Fall Out Boy, actually pretty much the whole Folie a Deux album. Feel free to send song recs or let me know if yall'd want a playlist.

MASTERLIST, CH1, CH2, CH4, CH5, CH6, CH7

---

You flinched as Soap strutted towards you, closing your eyes and mentally preparing for the sensation of his teeth sinking into you. But then… his footsteps kept going. He walked right past you and you opened your eyes to see him sitting down at the end of your bed.

"C'mere," he said, patting the spot next to him. "Let me take a look at your bites, see how you're healing up." You hesitated, still wary of a trap. "Listen, bonnie, I'm no' gonna bite you 'til I have your permission. Now come here and let me see." He seemed genuine enough. But then again, so had Kyle. You were skeptical, but you figured you didn't have much else to lose. So you walked over and sat next to him rigidly. He held a hand out. "Give me your arm." You reached across, slowly, cautiously to present your arm to him.

He took it ever so gently into his hands, fingers barely grazing over the marks that had faded even more since you'd woken up. He studied it with raised eyebrows.

"Wow, you're healing faster than most. Fucking miracle, that is." He lifted the arm up to his mouth and you jerked away, but he caught your wrist in a vice-like grip. "I already said I'm not gonna bite. Just gonna work some magic," he said with a wink and leaned down to close the gap. You watched as he lapped at your healing wound, slow and sensual, and pulled away with a kiss. "There, that's better."

You couldn't believe your eyes. The bite had healed completely. Maybe he really was magic. He leaned closer while you looked at your arm, baffled. He swept your hair away from your neck and looked at you, silently waiting for approval. You looked into his eyes- those beautiful ocean eyes- and nodded almost imperceptibly.

He grinned as he licked and kissed your neck, painting healing wet strokes across your skin. You were breathing heavily now. You couldn't deny the way his mouth felt against your skin.

"Heartrate's pickin' up," he whispered against your skin. He chuckled under his breath, the sound of it rippling down your spine. "Turn around, let me see your shoulder." His hands made their way to your waist to guide you to face him fully, and you molded to his movements like putty. He pulled the sleeve of your shirt up to see the mark Ghost had left on you, a shocked expression replacing the one of relaxation that had been there a moment before.

"Jesus Christ, Ghost really did a number on ya, eh? Look at that!" He was laughing. His hands brushed over the bruise in an almost fascinated way. You were rudely awakened to the fact that you were in the arms of a man who had tried to kill you only a few days before. You shot off the bed and out of his grasp, hands moving to cover yourself. You felt naked under his eyes even though you were fully clothed.

"Ah come on, lass, I was only joking. Sit back down." You didn't budge. "You wanna keep that big purple spot on your shoulder or not?" You hesitated. "Please, just sit back down. I don't want to have to make you, but I will if I have to," he threatened with a regretful look in his eye. The last thing you needed was to be lost in the fog of compulsion. You couldn't stand to lose control like that again. So, step by wobbly step, you sat down with Soap once more, presenting your discolored shoulder to him.

"There's my girl," he said grinning, once again wrapping his arms around your middle to pull you close to him.

"I'm not your girl," you protested. He scoffed.

"Then what, exactly, do you think you agreed to tonight? Hmm?" He stared deep into your eyes, and you swear you could feel them piercing into your soul. "You think we're just 'roommates' or something?" He kissed your cheek. "Friends who get to chow down on you from time to time?" He kissed your neck. "No, dearie." He kissed your collarbone. "You're ours." He lapped at your sore shoulder, all open-mouthed kisses and lithe tongue smoothing over your soft, abused flesh.

You choked back a moan at the feeling. It was so wrong to be enjoying this- the feeling of your captor's mouth on your body. But it was oh so soothing. You could already feel the soreness dissipating. He pulled back, admiring his handiwork with a grin of satisfaction. "It's not perfect, but then again, Ghost did getcha pretty good. It'll take time to heal properly." He surveyed the other bites. "The rest of you is perfect, though, I must say," he said with a wink, letting his eyes wander...

"Where was he tonight, anyway?" You asked. You still had yet to meet, or even catch a glimpse of the man who had basically mauled you.

"You didn't see him?" Soap responded. Your blood ran cold.

"What do you mean…?"

"He was there tonight, standin' in the corner like a bleedin' creep," he laughed at his own joke. You didn't laugh. "He's a spooky lad, ain't he?" He noticed how tense you were and wrapped a massive arm around you. "Ah, don't worry too much about it, you'll meet him eventually."

"That's what I'm afraid of…" you muttered. He paused, and you could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

"Tell you what," he started. "You tell me whatever you want fer your room, and tomorrow I'll go out and get it. I'll go back to your flat and get whatever you need. I'll even get paint fer the walls if you like." His hand wandered, gently stroking your arm and coaxing you closer into him. "Just let me have a wee taste of that pretty little neck and we'll call it a night, aye?" He was so close now, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, hot breath sending goosebumps across your body in waves. Wait.

"You went in my apartment?" You asked. He tensed up next to you but didn't move.

"Maybe."

"You went through my underwear drawer," you mentioned lightly. You let out a breath that was almost a laugh. You turned to look at his face, so close you were sharing oxygen. The ghost of a smile crept up on you when you saw his guilty expression. Like a deer in headlights. His eyes were wide, a sheepish smile making its way across his lips.

You laughed. For the first time in days you laughed. Soap looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Then he laughed with you. And for the first time since this whole thing started, you felt at ease.

"You pervert!" You joked.

"Oi, I was just trying ta get you something to wear! Figured you didn't want to be wearing the same clothes forever." His arm tightened around you and he shook you gently. You slapped a hand against his chest and he caught it with his own.

The laughter between you two tampered out and you sat comfortably in his arms, his hand holding yours against his muscular chest. You stared up into his eyes and once again you felt like you could drown in them. A part of you wanted to. He looked at you like you were art in a museum. It was different from the way he looked at you the other night. The hunger was still there, yes, but there was an admiration in them now that wasn't there before.

"Christ, you are a beauty, aren't you," he murmured. He brought up his hand to stroke against your cheek. Your hand remained pressed to his chest. "Like a bloody angel sent from heaven just for us…" His lips were so close to yours now. "Please…" His nose nudged yours. You were taken back to that night. It seemed so familiar and yet so different. There was no malice. Soap was tender with you. You found yourself nodding your head on your own this time.

The arm he'd had wrapped around you pulled onto his lap, your calves on either side of his enormous thighs. His mouth was now pressing feathery kisses along your neck. You sighed at the feeling and relaxed into his hold. There was something about his mouth that just made your head spin. His mouth reached your collarbone and he stopped. What was he waiting for?

"Gonna bite you now, alright?" He asked. You answered by sliding your fingers into the strip of hair that lined the center of his head. You felt him shudder beneath you, and then his teeth sunk into the hollow point right behind your clavicle. Your eyes rolled back on instinct.

God, it felt so different when you had a clear mind. Your body felt hot, tingling rushing down to your toes, your fingers twitching in his hair and tightening into a fist. He grunted at the feeling. His breathing picked up as the taste of you overwhelmed his senses. You were at his will and mercy in this moment, but if his words tonight were true- and you had no reason so far to believe otherwise- then you knew you could trust him. After all, Soap wasn't the one who had lied to you.

The hand that held your face so gingerly moved downward, fingers pressing into your pulse point. You gathered that he was monitoring your heart rate, making sure he didn't take too much from you.

Just as you were beginning to feel that telltale dizziness, he pulled himself off of you with a wet smack of his lips, closely followed by that magnificent tongue of his. He pulled back to catch his breath, muttering astonished curses under his breath. You could feel his eyes on you.

"You alright hen?" He asked. You didn't respond right away, head a little fuzzy from the feeling he'd given you. "Hey," he shook you. "Are you alright?" He sounded a bit more worried this time. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his staring up at you. You both stared at one another for a moment, both heavy-lidded and comfortable. He brought his forehead to rest on yours.

"Don't know what the hell you're made of, but you sure are somethin' else," he remarked. You were floating on cloud nine. You felt your world shift as his strong arms lowered you onto your back on the bed. You looked up at him with tired eyes. You weren't about to pass out, not like last time, but you were feeling significantly more lethargic.

Soap laid on his side next to you. He brushed your hair away from your face and threaded his fingers in your hair, just as you had done moments before. His fingers expertly massaged your scalp, lulling you even further towards sleep.

"Now," he started, "why don't you tell me what you need?" Your eyes widened at that. "Oh, no no! Not like that!" He corrected himself quickly. "I meant what we talked about earlier. For your room.

"This is your home now, for better or worse, so it should feel like it. At least a little bit. So tell me whatever you want, we'll get it for you. Television, new sofa, a damned diamond necklace- name it, it's yours."

You pondered his question for a moment. You weren't sure what they could do for you at this point. In this moment you felt safe lying in Soaps protective arms, but you knew as soon as he left you, that creeping feeling would come back again. This wasn't your home. You didn't know how it ever could be.

Soap could sense you retreating into yourself. He jostled your head ever so slightly.

"Hey, you still with me?" he checked.

"Yeah, yeah just… thinking…" you trailed off again. You thought back through the day. What did you need…? Then you thought of something. "A shower head," you offered. "Baths are nice and all, but I'd like to be able to take a shower, too. Just to have the option to." He nodded.

"Done. Anything else?"

"The rest of my clothes would be nice, too. And yeah, maybe a T.V.," you responded, "something with Netflix or something." He made a mental note of your requests.

"I can get you the T.V., but I can't guarantee internet."

"Why not?" You wondered.

"Same reason we can't give your phone back." Oh.

Because you'd call for help.

You were suddenly reminded of the grave situation you were in. You were being held captive here. They weren't just going to let you go that easily. These men were smart, you weren't going to catch them slipping up over something like internet access. If you wanted out you'd have to plan very carefully. But how… Soap's voice pulled you from your thoughts once again.

"If you want, we can get DVDs of whatever movies you want. Twilight, Nosferatu…" he trailed off with a laugh again. You couldn't help but join him. As your laughter settled down again, Soap sighed.

"You should get some sleep, bonnie. You'll need it," he spoke as he withdrew his arms from your body. He stood and tugged the comforter from under the weight of your body with ease and placed it over your body. You passively wondered if it was Soap that had tucked you into this bed the first time around.

"You'll have tomorrow to recover and get your strength back. When you wake up, I'll give you a proper tour of the house, and we'll get you something to eat then." Then he paused for a moment. "Wait, when was the last time you ate…?" He wondered out loud. Then his face went blank in a moment of realization. "Oh, shit! I'll be back!"

And before you could say another word, he was out the door. You heard the sound of the lock turning. How had you only just now realized how hungry you were? You supposed it must've been the anxiety of the day's events that had kept your stomach in knots. You'd been so concerned about becoming a meal that you hadn't even thought of having one for yourself!

But as you waited for Soap to return, presumably with food, you felt your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. And then they were closed. And then you were asleep. And then a gentle hand at your shoulder was waking you up. You opened your eyes to see Soap standing over you, holding a dinner tray in his hands.

“Sit up,” he said. You did as he said, rubbing your eyes. “Sorry, this was all I could find, we’re not used to having human… guests over.” He stumbled over the last part. Both of you knew you weren’t a guest here. Guests had the freedom to leave. He set the tray on your lap for you. On the tray sat a lump of aged cheese and a handful of crackers. You didn't want to know how old they were, but you could tell just from looking that they were stale as rocks.

You brought one of the crackers to your mouth and nearly chipped a tooth. Both of you winced. You dropped it back down on the plate with a clatter and moved to the cheese. Thankfully it was edible. You choked it down and handed the tray back to Soap.

"I'm sorry, it's all we had-"

"It's fine," you snapped. It seemed that eating had only made the pit in your stomach deeper. You were hungry. You were tired. You were scared. And Soap was honestly just pissing you off.

"Well, someone's hangry…" he muttered to himself.

"Just get out," you commanded. Honestly you don't know what had gotten into you earlier. Why were you being so friendly with him? Maybe your head hadn't been as clear as you had thought.

"Excuse me?" Soap interjected. He dropped the tray on the nightstand beside you rather roughly and loomed over you. You were in awe of the size of him, acutely aware of the fact that he could snap you in half without breaking a sweat. He'd been so gentle tonight, you had all but forgotten how terrifying he'd been the night you'd met.

"You should remember who you're talking to, sweetheart," he growled, voice close to animalistic. "I go through the trouble to find human food for you and you just-" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. He opened his eyes to see yours watering.

"No, no, don't do that, pretty girl," he cooed, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you, reaching to dry your tears, but you jerked away. Your wide, teary eyes watched as he didn't back down, instead holding your face with an impossibly strong hand. "Don't cry." You felt the knot in your chest dissipate. His thumbs wiped away your years. "There we go, bonnie. That's it. Smile for me." And so you smiled. "There's a good pet." He chuckled, and you felt your own laughter bubble up again. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his. "Now lie back down," You did. "And go to sleep." And you slept.

---

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[stardustloki]

Being Useful

When Wrecker is injured, the entire Batch agree that he needs time to rest and heal. This is why, when Shep asks the Batch for help with a task that will be sure to make his injuries worse, Omega is baffled when her brothers agree immediately.

The Batch know that they're safe on Pabu. However, they haven't quite understood that their safety doesn't rely on them always making themselves useful.

Tags: Gen, Omega and Wrecker POVs, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Found Family, Past Trauma (Kamino was NOT a good place), Non-Graphic Description of Minor Injuries

Read on Ao3 here.

Or under the cut...

“That should do it,” Echo said at last, securing the long bandage he’d wrapped around Wrecker’s torso. “It’ll heal up fine, but-” he fixed him with a stern look- “only if you rest and give the bacta time to do its job.”

Omega watched as Wrecker visibly deflated.

“You mean I’ve got to sit around doing nothing!”

“If you don’t put any strain on your muscles for the next rotation, the bacta will do its job and the tears in your trapezius will heal.” Echo folded his arms. “If you don’t rest them, if you go around lifting heavy things, they won’t heal, and you’ll be bored for much longer.”

Wrecker stared up at the ceiling, letting out a frustrated sigh. “ Fine. ”

“Lyana was going to teach me how to make sushi today,” Omega spoke up. “You could come with me, if you want. It should be interesting, and we’ll be eating a lot.”

As she waited, hoping her brother would say yes, she caught the grateful look Hunter was sending her out of the corner of her eye. Getting any of her brothers to take it slow after an injury in the field had always been a difficult task, and Wrecker, with his boundless energy and need to move, had always been the worst of them. If he said yes to this, at least she knew he wouldn’t put any strain on his back for the next hour or so.

Her brother looked thoughtful for a second, before smiling at her. “Yeah, okay. I guess that could be fun.”

“Awesome!” she replied, feeling the excitement swell within her, jumping up slightly on the balls of her feet.

She waited, hoping she seemed far more patient on the outside than she felt on the inside, as Hunter helped Wrecker get his shirt back on and Echo packed away the medical supplies. Crosshair was sitting on the bench near the door, chewing a toothpick and tinkering with the settings for his prosthetic hand.

Without warning, Hunter seemed to freeze, glancing at the wall of their home, moving his head slowly towards the door, as if tracking someone. A few seconds later, there was a knock. Omega shrugged and went to open it.

Shep was outside, grinning widely at her through the doorway. She couldn’t help but grin back at the man she was slowly coming to consider her uncle.

“Omega! How are you?” he asked.

“Great, thanks. Looking forward to hanging out with Lyana! What about you?”

“Eh, I’m alright. But there’s been a couple problems I’m hoping your brothers will be able to help out with. Can I come in?”

“Sure!”

She stepped aside to let him in, but as she turned back towards her brothers she found herself frowning, brain stuttering in alarm. 

Hunter, Crosshair and Echo were all standing in between Shep and Wrecker. With the way they’d staggered themselves, the pattern appearing almost natural, perhaps to an outsider like Shep it wouldn’t look as if they’d placed themselves in a defensive formation, clearly attempting to shield Wrecker, but to Omega it couldn’t have been more obvious.

What wasn’t obvious, however, was why they were doing it. This was Shep. One of the nicest people they’d ever met. There was absolutely no need to protect Wrecker from him.

“Good morning, how are you boys today?” Shep’s voice was as welcoming as ever, but Hunter was far more guarded when he spoke.

“We’re all fine, thank you.” Omega frowned at Hunter’s words, she wouldn’t class Wrecker as ‘fine’. “How can we help?”

“There’s a house down near the coast, it got damaged real bad in the storm last night. I was hoping you’d help rebuild it. Wrecker would be a real help bringing up some of the building materials from one of the ships in the dock.”

“Sounds good,” Hunter replied. “Just tell us where the house is and we’ll be there.”

Wait, what?

She waited for Echo to speak up, to repeat what he’d told Wrecker just a few minutes before. Neither Echo nor Crosshair opened their mouths to speak. Instead, they watched Shep with neutral expressions, clearly waiting for him to carry on the conversation.

“Awesome, I’ll send you the address on my comm and-”

“Wait, stop,” Omega interrupted, because if everyone was gonna act like they’d lost their minds, at least she could be the voice of reason. “Wrecker can’t help you, he’s-”

“He’s fine, sir,” Hunter cut across her.

She could literally feel herself gaping at him, but he didn’t spare her a glance, keeping his steady gaze firmly on Shep, who surely must be realising this was weird, right? Hunter had just called him ‘sir’, for kriff’s sake. Hunter had never called him ‘sir’.

Thankfully for her sanity, Shep did seem to find this weird, because he was frowning at Hunter, his head tilted slightly.

“If Wrecker’s injured in some way…” he began.

“It’s nothing,” Wrecker said.

“Nothing serious,” Hunter added, the ‘s’ on serious a little too stuttered for Omega to believe that he hadn’t been about to call Shep ‘sir’ again before cutting himself off.

She stared at him incredulously. Not serious? Okay, it wasn’t serious like a blaster wound was serious, or like a chip in your brain was serious. But, even though he’d tried to hide it, she’d known that Wrecker had been in agony before Echo had applied the bacta, and he’d only stop the injury from healing, or even make it worse, if he started lifting things now.

Besides, Shep considered a small cut serious. She knew because of how he’d fussed over Lyana the last time they’d cooked together and Lyana had nicked herself when her knife had slipped. He’d also been way too concerned when Omega had fallen down the stairs during a game of tag with her friend - she’d only had a couple of bumps and grazes after all, they were basically routine on missions! There was absolutely no way he’d consider letting Wrecker hurt himself more by helping - so why weren’t the others telling him?

“If you’re sure,” he replied, an edge of uncertainty in his voice.

“No, he’s-” 

Hunter made a clearly frantic but barely noticeable gesture in battlesign, with one of the hands he was keeping firmly by his side, telling her that she needed to stop, now. She cut herself off, scowling at him.

If Hunter was using battlesign that meant this was important, that his orders needed to be followed. She knew it also meant he must have an explanation for this, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be frustrated, even as she obeyed. It wasn’t her fault his orders made no sense. 

“Omega’s upset because she invited Wrecker to make sushi with her and Lyana,” Echo said, eyes flickering down towards the floor as he struggled with the lie.

Shep fixed her with a kind smile. Omega did her best to look like it didn’t irritate the hell out of her at that moment. “I’m sure he’ll be able to help next time. So,” he addressed the others, “I’ll see you boys in half an hour or so. If anything changes, or you’re not able to help for any reason, just let me know.”

After he’d left, Omega let her brothers feel the full force of her glare.

“What the hell was that?”

She was surprised to hear Crosshair speaking those words, considering they were exactly what she’d been about to ask the four of them.

“I could ask you the same,” she snapped, folding her arms. “Have you forgotten that there are small tears in Wrecker’s back muscles. Do you want him to get hurt worse.”

Crosshair took a step towards her. Omega only narrowed her eyes further.

“Have you forgotten that they allow us to live here, that they protect us from the Empire even after it invaded their home, because we’re useful to them?” He replied. Omega felt her mouth drop open for the second time that day. “Have you thought about what happens when we stop being useful to them?”

“They invited us to live here because they like us, because they care about us!” Omega protested.

Crosshair scoffed, and, as she glanced at the others, hoping that they’d back her up on this, she could see they looked a mix of wary and uncomfortable.

“I’m sure they do, at least a bit,” Hunter told her, voice gentle, as if he was telling her something difficult to hear. Omega supposed it was difficult, if only because they were being so ridiculous. “But they’ll probably like us a whole lot less if we don’t help them.”

“He wouldn’t want Wrecker to be in pain.”

“I’m fine, Omega,” Wrecker said, walking over to wrap her in a hug, which she gracelessly accepted. “I’ve had to deal with worse, way worse. I’ll be back here recovering before you know it.”

“He probably wouldn’t want Wrecker to be in pain,” Echo agreed, “But-”

“There isn’t any ‘but’ to this!” Omega snapped. “He cares about us, he cares about Wrecker. That isn’t going to change because Wrecker can’t help out one time.”

“Sorry, kid,” Wrecker told her, gently ruffling her hair. “You aren’t going to win this one.”

She sighed, allowing her head to rest against his chest. “Fine,” she groaned. “Guess I’ll go make sushi with Lyana myself then.”

The frustration and anger remained within her throughout her walk along the sunny streets of Pabu. It hadn’t abated by the time she reached Lyana’s, not when she was aware that Wrecker should have been there beside her, not walking in the other direction, about to start doing an activity that was only going to hurt him and make his injuries worse.

Whatever Omega might think about Echo’s lying skills, hers weren’t much better, and Lyana could tell something was up almost as soon as she’d arrived. Well, Omega wanted to know the truth, and she didn’t much feel about hiding what had upset her anyway, so once they were both sitting in the comfortable wooden bench on Lyana’s patio, sipping on the smoothies her friend had prepared, she asked Lyana if her dad had ever stopped liking her because she hadn’t helped him.

Lyana was horrified. “No! Why would you even ask that, Omega?”

She shrugged, but felt her heart lighten at the answer. “Has he ever stopped liking someone else?”

“No! Omega-”

“Wrecker’s injured, he’s hurt his back really badly,” she explained, relieved that she’d been correct. “But my brothers think that if they don’t help your dad, then he’s gonna stop being kind to us or something.”

Lyana gaped at her. “But he’d never do that! He loves you guys, we both do!” She thought for a moment, eyes flickering from side to side. “I’ll comm him, let him know what’s going on. He’ll know what to do.”

For the first time in the last twenty minutes, Omega felt like the world was slowly starting to make sense again. And, as Lyana’s call connected to her dad, she let herself smile at that.

Wrecker walked down to the house near the coast, flanked by his brothers on both sides. He felt sad for Omega, for how upset she’d got on his behalf, but really, he’d be okay. Sure, this was going to be difficult, and it was going to hurt, but he pushed through pain on missions all the time. Besides, he knew with absolute certainty that it was going to be nothing compared to the tests the scientists and trainers had put him through back on Kamino. Sooner or later, his injuries would heal and he’d be fine again. It didn’t really matter that making sushi with Omega had sounded nice.

As they approached, Shep waved to them, and they waved back, before making their way down the steps towards him.

“Where do you want us?” Hunter asked.

Shep explained their tasks, one by one, until he got to Wrecker. He passed him the fishing rod he was carrying. “I’d like you to sit on the jetty and catch us some fish for lunch.”

Wrecker could tell by his brother’s reactions that he wasn’t the only one confused by that. “I thought you wanted me to carry building supplies?”

He shook his head. “Change of plans. I got some other guys who’re doing that.”

And, okay, maybe that made sense. But wouldn’t Wrecker’s strength be more useful helping with the rebuilding work instead of sitting around catching fish? He opened his mouth to ask why and was rewarded with a sharp elbow in his left side. Right, Crosshair had a point there, it would be stupid to get himself hurt worse when he was being given a way out.

About half an hour later, Wrecker sat by the sea, holding his fishing rod steady. As the minutes passed, he could feel the pain in his back lessen as his feeling of relaxation grew.

He looked across as Shep moved the bucket of fish backwards, before taking its place beside him.

“Looks like you’ve been doing good work,” he commented.

“I guess.”

“We’re repairing Nixret’s house,” Shep continued, as they both stared across the ocean. “Nix is old, he can’t see, he can barely walk anymore, he relies on the kindness of his neighbours to help him out everyday. But he’s one of the most interesting people I know. Do you think I don’t care about him because he can’t get around by himself?”

“No,” Wrecker replied, brow crinkling. It was obvious that Shep cared, he wouldn’t be organising all this if he didn’t. Then his brow creased further. “Omega told you what we talked about, didn’t she?”

Shep nodded, and Wrecker found himself tensing in a way that sent shocks of pain across his shoulder blades.

“She did, and I’m glad she did. And you should be glad you’ve got such a good sister.” Out of the corner of his eye, Wrecker could see that Shep was smiling at him, eyes full of concern. “You are a part of this community now Wrecker. And that won’t change if you can’t lift heavy objects. I like you because you’re you, not because of what you can do for me. And I’ve been told to tell you Lyana likes you because she thinks you’re her funniest uncle.”

“Oh,” Wrecker said, staring down at the water. He didn’t know what to say. It would probably have been easier to come up with something to say if he’d even known what to think.

“I don’t know what you boys have been through exactly,” Shep continued. “But I know whatever it was, it can’t have been easy. Even so, I’d appreciate it if you told me in the future when helping me out would hurt you.”

Wrecker nodded, still feeling blank.

“Alright then. Shall we get these fish back to the others?”

This right here was easily much firmer ground. “Sounds good,” he replied, managing a smile.

As they walked together, back towards the house his brothers were working on, Wrecker found himself thinking about what Omega had said earlier, and what Shep had said just then. It didn’t feel true, not exactly, and he knew that he’d have to discuss it with Hunter and the others later. But even if it didn’t feel true, that didn’t mean that it wasn’t true.

Maybe, they could be safe here, even when they weren’t useful?

[oops-all-concrete]

Hi! I have a request for bg3 head-cannons. These entail Tav not being able to read and the group all separately trying to teach them how to. (I feel like gale would be the master at this). Thank you!❤️

Aw, I love this ask!! Thank you for the request, this is genuinely so sweet and is spawning like a million ideas in my head. (I have a Tav I always imagine being illiterate)

BG3 companions react to; Tav not knowing how to read!

No content warnings, just fluff and sweetness for the most part. Potentially minor spoilers for certain characters? But nothing major/important.

Lae'zel -

She's a little surprised, given how old Tav is. She knew how to read Tir'Su slate by age 6. Knew how to read and write common by 8. Learned a few other languages by 12. For Tav to not know their own language in writing is concerning. She wouldn't have the patience to teach them, but she would go out of her way to read out signs and plaques to Tav. They need to get by somehow and she's at least got the patience for that.

Shadowheart -

"Oh? Was this not a necessary skill where you grew up?" She's quite open minded. She understands not all societies have a lean on literacy, as much as she couldn't imagine living like that. She asks if they'd like to know and reads to them in the evenings. She only has some chappy romance novels and crime fiction, but she likes the books, so she's happy to read to them. It's a slow process, but she's patient.

Wyll -

He's stunned. He knows there's plenty of people who simply can't obtain the skill due to a number of reasons, dyslexia, bad vision, blindness entirely, but Tav should know if they can learn. He's quick to get as much reading material as he can find and invite Tav to little lessons. He's a wonderful teacher, praises every new word, applauds the reading of a sentence and smiles every time Tav reads something on their own during an adventure.

Karlach -

She's the least bothered. A little surprised, but not judging. "Eh, I can't ride any mounts or hold my breath for more than 20 seconds at a time. I've lived, so will you" She shrugs it off so easy. She does however keep that information to herself if she's the only one Tav has told. It's not worth judging, she refuses to look down on anyone for it, but she worries Gale, Astarion or Lae'zel will be critical and perhaps even mean about it? And Tav doesn't need that. Mama K's got you.

Gale -

He's not critical, but he is interested. Gale might have a bit of an ego and thinks the world of his skills, but his mother wouldn't let him leave the house if he thought less of others for not having skills. He does offer to teach, but he asks in a very particular way. "I'd be happy to teach you, should you wish to learn. It's fine if you don't though. Just tap me and point and I'll translate for you" He says, calm and even. Deep down, he is concerned, but stays level headed. Tav deserves that much.

Astarion -

"What, did your folks just get lazy? Ugh, what swine." He's offended on Tavs behalf. He thinks it's atrocious they don't have such a basic and essential skill and can't believe whoever/wherever Tav was brought up just didn't help them. So naturally, he pulls out some of his own reading material and finds some easier things during travel if he can. He'll be damned if he's going to let them sit there and not know what a warning sign is.

Bonus! The elder folks 💕

Halsin -

"Ah, you need not be ashamed. Nature never intended writing, as helpful as it can be." He smiles. He's happy to teach, but doesn't mind if Tav has no desire to learn. He thinks it would be helpful, but otherwise thinks nothing of it. He will read things if asked without question, but makes no other comments.

Jaheira -

"Cub, as long as you can remember what I say and know how to say what you're saying, I couldn't care less...but if you want to learn, you can always tell me or Halsin...or the wizard, Gale. They'd be happy to teach I'm sure" She just shrugs and keeps moving.

Minsc -

"Warriors have no need for words anyhow, my friend! We can just speak with our hands and feet...in combat!" With some encouraging squeaks from Boo.

[marumafan]

Hi, I have a thought. From Yuuri’s perspective, also Earth’s, Wolf is incredibly impressive pretty. I wonder how people in his own world perceive him?

Hello, sorry for taking a while to answer. I needed to do some research for it.

TL;DR: In his country, Wolf's probably just average, but his status as son of a maou and fiance of another maou helps him . Since we see him from Yuuri's POV, this might be the reason why everyone thinks him so beautiful… but he might simply be Yuu's type XD

Novel 1, chapter 3

"Apparently, this group's aesthetic sense was unfathomable to Japanese people. "

Welcome to my TED talk once again, it's great to see you all:

I'm mostly going to contradict everything people say about Wolfie's beauty with quotes and sources, so if you're interested, keep reading.

Wolfie's looks on Earth: (canon? unlikely)

When it comes to novel canon, it's impossible to know how he would be perceived, as Wolfram has never been to earth, unless we're talking about the future. In the future- stories, Wolfram's beauty isn't really addressed. (other than from Yuuri's point of view)

As for the drama cd you mention here (Everyone looking at him):

"The Mazokus Casual Trip to Earth - Yuuri and Wolfram", yes, he's perceived as beautiful on earth in that cd. This story was written by GEG and maybe even with sensei's input, but it's following anime lore, so we can't really call it novel canon.

Until I have clear information about this being sensei's… I will doubt this info. She's always said (till 2011) that her characters had never been to earth. Remember that 'going to earth' was how she planned to 'end' the series, along with it being a dream. So how pretty Wolfram would be considered on earth is unknown (also where? In Japan? Maybe he would stand out more there, sure.)

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

Who is the most beautiful in Shin Makoku: (canon)

As for the other world, Gunter is number one.

In novel 2, chapter one we get this info:

"…Is that Lord Günter?"

(…)

"Kyaah! His Majesty is adorable, but Lord Günter is so dreamy! That's the first beauty of Shinma Kingdom for you—he's even more beautiful when he's wet!"

"Gyaaaaaaah!"

So Gunter's traits: purple hair and eyes, tall and older.

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

Wolfram paying with smiles: (canon? unknown)

People usually like to point out the "Wolfram paying with smiles" info from that one drama cd "A great day with a wonderful Ma-friend -Yuuri and Wolfram"; which ,again, I'm not sure Takabayashi-sensei participated in . (We know the 'visiting rooms drama cds were penned by her, but the 'wonderful day ones, we have no info on' ).

Therefore I can't confirm that Wolf is so beautiful that he 'pays with smiles' as stated in that cd.

Also, it may simply be Yuuri's interpretation of the situation. Wolfram is the son of the previous maou, and is the fiance of the current maou, so people may just find any requests he makes part of their jobs.

Quote here:

Yuuri: I'm trying to ask you what kind of reward they get for providing you that information.

Wolfram: I don't give them anything.

Yuuri: Eh?! Why?

Wolfram: Even if you ask me why, I don't know what to say. Because I just thank them with a smile, and everybody diligently brings me the information.

Yuuri: So, what Wolf? You just thank them with a smile and that's it?!

Wolfram: Yes. Is that strange?

Yuuri: No, rather than strange I'd say… whispers I see… so those guys in order to see him like that, they keep bringing him information.

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

Wolfram reviving people with his beauty: (canon? unclear)

In the novels Novel 2, chapter 8:

"Why does this hospital have such an unusually high survival rate? Well, you see, it's a good thing for the patients' families, isn't it? It's a good thing."

I can't bring myself to actually hasten their deaths, and not a single person has died since we arrived this morning. It's a three-star hospital. The old man, who had lost consciousness a moment ago, grabbed Wolfram's hand as he tried to check his heartbeat, opened his eyes wide and called out the woman's name. The daughter and grandson were overjoyed, crying that their grandfather had spoken for the first time in four years.

Wolfram was the one who had suffered the most damage, with cold sweat breaking out on his forehead and him clutching his wrist as he muttered something. It seemed like a charm against evil. It was a bit strange for a demon to use a charm against evil, though." (…)

"We've had gratitude heaped on us, and people have even started calling Wolfram the Angel of Love. "

Ok, so it is never clarified that it's because of Wolfram's beauty. Also, we know that Wolf has that healing power where when one encourages others to feel better he can heal them and take some of the damage.

It may be his power that was healing everyone in the hospital. Could also be his beauty.

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

From Cherie's point of view: (canon? unreliable narrator)

In "Cäcilie's Love Love Maternity Book", Cherie says Wolfram is 'so beautiful it's a sin', and that 'he looks just like her' XD so she might be a bit biased.

She usually says he's gorgeous, because he looks like her so idk.

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

From Yuu's point of view: (canon? for Yuu)

Now obviously Yuuri find him attractive. The very first time he sees him he calls Wolf's an 'angel'.

Chp3, novel 1 - He's an angel How can he be this beautiful! Because of them, his face emits an aura. Although it’s likely to seem that way because of his dazzling blond hair. His looks and voice are like an older Vienna chorus boy. His white skin seems transparent, and his irises are an emerald green that make me think of the bottom of a lake, and furthermore he doesn’t have a split chin. He’s an angel, definitely an angry angel. However, being in this place, he’s also probably a beautiful Mazoku.

Novel 2, Chp 1 - God's greatest masterpiece Lord Wolfram von Bielefelt, on the other hand, is my twin in stature and physique, but angelically handsome. If you didn’t know he was Mazoku, you’d think he was God’s greatest masterpiece. Glittering gold hair, white skin, long eyelashes, and emerald-green eyes. But that damn arrogance of his makes him sound like a yapping Pomeranian.

Novel 3, chapter 1 -jumped straight out of a shoujo manga Wolfram was a rival-less super bishounen, like a Vienna choir boy who had jumped straight out of a shoujo manga. He had inherited his mother’s shiny golden hair and her emerald green eyes. While his build was no better or worse than mine, the difference between our looks was as wide as the gap between heaven and earth. I imagined all artists in the world would fight over the chance to paint his portrait. If he had appeared in someone’s dream, the dreamer might even be moved to tears thinking they had seen an angel.

Novel 3 chapter 10 - makes my heart to skip a few beats Even though I perfectly knew that we were both guys, being pursued by such a beautiful boy like him still caused my heart to skip a few beats. At times like this, the most effective solution was to avoid looking at his face and keep chanting “He is 82 years old” like a mantra.

There's many other instances where he describes Wolfram as ultra-beautiful... but this is Yuuri.

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

Common physical features in the other world: (canon)

In novel 1 we get a description of the 'human-shaped' mazoku

" The color of each person's hair and skin was truly variegated and unreal. Like I've heard, there's certainly no one with black hair. Blond hair, brown hair, silver hair, white hair, red hair, chestnut, orange (I wonder if it's dyed), purple (I wonder if it's a trendy hair dye), green (probably chlorophyll)… green?! "

So of course, we know black eyes and hair are the most uncommon, one could say exotic? Just like Wolf would be in Japan. But whenever we hear descriptions, most people that interact with Yuu are blond.

Yuu describing the first person he meets (Novel 1)

"The length of the long skirt that seemed to be dragging on the ground. The old-fashioned triangular straps tied at her chin. Those blue eyes and dull blonde hair…a foreigner! "

All of the human villages also had a bunch of blond people. So it seems like blond with blue eyes are common features in both mazoku and the humans around them.

Yuu describing some guards: (Novel 1) " The nice middle aged men rush over. I've already gotten used to beautiful forms, so I don't mind these men's outwards appearances. Hnn, umm, oh, beautiful for their fifties, older men with dull blond hair and blue eyes. However, in their vicious military training they were taught to conceal the hidden door inside their eyes. "

Yuu describing Adalbert (Novel 1) "American football, this man absolutely must play American football. His arms and chest seemed that way. With dazzling hair and turquoise blue eyes, a fine, long hooked nose even though it inclined to the left a little, he seemed to be a beautiful Caucasian macho man with a split chin. Foreigner-loving Japanese girls would probably form a line asking for photographs in this place, and if necessary they would probably put money in his bikini pants. "

Yuu describing Gunter: (Novel 1) The moment I saw his face I gave up on saying anything. He was handsome, more handsome, super handsome, and ultra some hand, I mean, handsome. I would say his graceful expression makes his cleverness felt. What a smart-looking incredibly beautiful person! But such a dull expression.

In addition to being beautiful, his voice was a baritone that vibrated in your stomach. Adalbert from awhile ago was also fairly handsome but this person was so perfect that girls would faint as soon as they laid eyes on him. It wouldn't only be girls in their late twenties who would faint. Mature women, and older women…well, ladies in general.

------------------------- In summary: Wolfram has pretty 'average beauty' for the other world. Yuuri and Wolf's mom think he's gorgeous, other people don't really comment on Wolf's looks. There may also be a difference between the way he's perceived in Shin Makoku and the way he's perceived outside of it. He's probably average, maybe slightly above average if we consider the 'Angel of Love' thing (on human territory) as being caused by his beauty and not his healing powers.

There's a lot of info here , if you find mistakes or sources I haven't added, let me know!