#Posting this and running

[vieoeil-riae]

take you down with me

steb/fem!reader

warnings: NSFW, dry humping, making out, selectively mute!steb, 18+ MDNI, 3.1k words

synopsis: Both of you think the other might have died in the battle for Piltover, so you get emotional and fuck in a broom closet when you see each other again. Sounds fair, no?

read on ao3 | ao3 profile | ao3 collection | masterlist

It had been two days since the war ended, a miniscule amount of hours since the retreat of the Noxian soldiers following the death of their leader. The dead had to be collected, the wounded had to be tended to.

As someone with some amount of medical knowledge, Steb had immediately fallen into line attending to the wounded. He supposes his bedside manner was definitely below standard, the man having grown even quieter in the wake of all the death and displacement. It kept his hands busy however, and it kept his mind away from you.

When the fighting broke out he wasn’t sure where you’d ended up. Though there had been civilian evacuations, there was no guarantee you’d even managed to get on one of the airships.

For all he knew, you could be face down in the streets, another littered body buried under many others. Steb shivered at the thought, the pallor of death imagined on your face made him queasy and he couldn’t be throwing up on patients. So he shoved the thought down, drowning it in the wounds of his comrades and fellow city-goers alike.

Just a few days without you were hell, though, and he’d already had a taste of it several months ago when you’d frowned at him and averted your gaze — avoiding him for almost a week after Caitlyn’s strike team weaponised The Gray.

But that was a silly worry then, that you wouldn’t come back to him, because back then there was always the chance you would. Now, there was always a chance you’d be lost to him forever, and that cut much, much deeper.

Steb worried his lips as he debrided a fellow enforcer's wound — gruesome work, both for him and the patient — his careful hands easing out the shattered fragments of a Noxian blade from a wound on the man’s thigh. The man hissed, and so did Steb.

It smelled awful, but if he concentrated hard enough he could imagine how you smelled instead. The scent of your body soap, your perfume, your natural scent, all mixed together into a smell he could almost taste. God, how long had it been since he smelt something other than rubbing alcohol and infection?

Not that there was anyone to complain about that to. The only person who wasn’t you, that could understand all of his gestures without a long game of charades and short words was both dead and a traitor of the state. Steb swallowed around the memory of the way her ginger hair fell over her eyes as she slumped to the floor with a bullet between her eyes.

You’d understand, one look and you’d have him in your arms and muttering about how he really ought to quit. You’d trace the shape of his eyes and know him, it was the most relaxing game in the world and the prize for winning made it golden. To get him like that… without the words, it always made his heart flutter.

Steb held a sigh in the back of his throat, despite the summer heat the atmosphere was frigid. You would warm him up nicely, let him drift away in your soft skin, the swell of your breasts, the chub of your thighs. Two days of barely sleeping, you sounded like heaven.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Footsteps, a regular noise around the hall that had been turned into an impromptu medical care station. He payed no mind, still lost in his thoughts and in his work.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Running, also plenty familiar — especially on the first night.

“Steb!” Oh, the lack of sleep must really be getting to him.

“Steb!” A warm hand came to rest on his shoulder, too gentle to jostle his work. A familiar sense of care, but also maybe he was hallucinating. He stared at his hands, when had he finished with the man’s wound?

“Steb…” Melodic and warm, fond like the hand that reached up to tilt his chin towards you.

Not making things up in his head then. Steb’s eyes widened at the sight of you, perfectly fine and haloed by the setting sun through the broken window. 

His eyebrows pinched and his lips fell open just enough for you to see a sliver of his tongue. The way he stared at you was precious, like he was afraid to look away lest you vanish. You smiled fondly back, he must’ve been worried — Steb had a strong sense of duty, both to his work and you, sometimes at once, like the past few days. 

Steb’s face shifted again, blinking several times before searching your face desperately like he was trying to drink in your whole visage at once. You flustered, even in strained circumstances, he certainly knew how to make you feel wanted.

His hands gripped at your wrist, one thumb digging into your pulse. He rested there for a moment, his eyes glazing over with focus as he felt for the steady thrum of life there — finding it and latching on like it was the only thing in the world.

The frills decorating his cheeks fluttered, a ripple that spread across his cheekbones. You followed it closely, rhythmically, as it almost copied your heart beat. Following it further, you found his ears pinned closely to his skull. Worried must’ve been an understatement, then. You frowned slightly.

Steb’s eyes met yours as you traced his frills again. The energy you found there was intense, thick with a multitude of wants. Turning his head and tugging at your wrist, you felt a soft kiss land over your pulse — the shape of Steb’s lips was unmistakable, thinner on the top and plumper on the bottom and always in a sort of mildly pouty frown. 

You bit your own lip, staring intently at where his lips landed, where the projected trail of his kisses went. For a moment, Steb’s face grew somber, then soft in the most incredible way. So pretty, he was, even from where you stood above him; jewel-like eyes and soft, almost luminescent skin that looked so artful in the sunlight that poured in around you.

Taking advantage of where your hand ended up, you gently brushed his cheek. Exploratory, but known, you reached around to cup where the back of his head met his neck where your fingers found the small fins that trailed down his back. 

With even more care, your thumb gently stroked the shell of Steb’s ear, tracing over its points. Under your touch, he shivered, eyes closed as he subtly twitched between leaning into the touch and pulling away. 

A shaky sigh left his lips as he finally leaned into your touch. The way he opened his eyes and gazed at you was lethal; the intense glacier-blue of his eyes eaten up by his blown out, hazy blue pupils; the slump in his shoulders; the reverence that saturated every inch of his face.

You tilt your head subtly to the door, watching the twitch in his eyebrows and eyelids. They scrunched in worry, Steb’s head turning to look behind him again, at the patient he’d been tending to prior. You watch a little longer, letting his face speak.

The man on the floor behind him shrugged and rolled over. Steb looked back to you, searching your face also. You smiled again, cheekier, and nodded towards the door once more — your eyes focused on his, gazing at him through your lashes.

Sliding his hand around to hold yours, you pulled him up from his small stool. Steb let you, eyes shimmering as you walked hand in hand out of the door.

You dropped the collected facade the second the door closed behind you, gripping his hand tightly as you speed walked down the hall all but dragging him behind you. You heard him snort, and you smiled at the sound.

Your eyes spied exactly what you were looking for. A door slightly thinner than the others and less ornate. Crossing the hall with Steb in tow, though he looked more confused now — frills fluttering almost nervously — you carefully opened the door, listening for voices inside.

Waiting a second, you felt Steb press into your space behind you. His breath skimmed your ear as he listened alongside you and your teeth found your lips again, biting and pulling.

You deemed it clear, and possibly a little ungracefully, yanked Steb into the broom closet behind you and slammed the door shut.

In a flurry, you had his back pushed against the wall with your hands pawing at his front. Yet you refrained a moment longer to look in his eyes. Permission. You wanted permission to unravel in his arms and a sign that said he wouldn’t mind if he did the same.

His eyes seemed to glow a little brighter in the dark, and you could feel the way they traced from your lips to your eyes, to your lips again. Looking up again, this time through his lashes, Steb brushed his nose against yours; an invite.

You took it gladly, meeting his lips with your own. Just a few days without him had left you starving, the fear of having lost him plaguing your thoughts since you left, you drank him in.

The kiss grew less chaste and more desperate. You toyed at his bottom lip, plump and warm under your ministrations, listening to the way he sharply inhaled as you gently bit his lip. Steb’s hands dragged over your waist, needy, but it was a ghost of a feeling — he was refraining from touching you.

Frowning, you pulled away. Steb chased you as you left, lips unwilling to part with yours, eyes opening in confusion over your sudden absence.

He tilted his head with a concerned look. You settled your hands over his, and gently pushed them down to meet the flesh of your waist once before letting off and giving him the choice. His lips made an ‘o’ that turned into a bashful smile.

Steb wiped his hands on his jacket, he’d been fiddling with wounds, without handwashing (which he’d prefer) this was next best. One hand returned to your waist, but the other drifted up to your face, brushing stray hair from your eyes before carding through your hairline. Soft under his touch, you nodded in understanding. 

Steb kissed the corner of your mouth, reveling in the way he could feel your smile, before trailing slow kisses across your jawline as if he was savouring it. You dragged your hands up his sides, draping them across his firm shoulders as he worked towards the junction between your neck and your jaw.

You shivered at the sensation, inhaling sharply when his teeth met a sensitive spot, and sighing when his lips soothed it.

In a shuffle, he’d turned you around — pressing you to the wall instead, caging you in as he wrapped his arm around you tighter. The hand in your hair remained there, but his other hand took a downward path, tracing the curve of your spine like it meant the world to him.

Against your neck, you felt his frills flutter; ticklish and delicious, you clocked how heavy Steb’s breathing had gotten, how his ear twitched when you gasped. Your own hand weaved into the back of his hair, brushing gently against the tiny fins that began to appear where the back of his skull connected to his spine.

“‘Door’s not locked.” You mumbled into his uncharacteristically messy hair.

“Mn.” Too late to stop now, Steb was long lost in you. 

Your smell, familiar and so normal compared to everything around you. Your softness, the way your unbroken skin gave way to his touch. How warm you were, gasping and arching into him. There was no helping himself as he drank you in greedily, moving your shirt’s neckline and peppering your collarbones with nips and kisses. 

You tilted your head, both out of pleasure and a need to give Steb the most area of exposed skin to lavish as you could. 

“Steb…” You called breathily,  the feeling of his tongue dancing over your sensitive skin making your knees buckle. 

There was relief, there was need, and they brought both of you to the floor. Steb not once letting go as he followed you downwards. 

If anything, it meant he could focus on groping you more. Pawing at your chest, while his other hand slid south to squeeze you your hip — having ended up pressed to your side as you were both brought to your knees. His head was spinning, touching you was dizzying every time but right now it was satisfying a desperate sort of hunger.

Taking a deep breath against your skin, he dragged you closer. You whined at the feeling of his bulge pressing against your hip, your cheeks flushing with heat as Steb’s eyes grew even hazier. Your combined panting filled the small closet, you were warmer now but neither of you could tell if the shivering was borne of coldness or bubbling desire. 

Quietly, Steb whined, burying his face back into your neck — letting the frills that decorated his pretty cheekbones rub against your hot skin as a shiver traveled the length of his spine. He couldn’t tell if the pulsing he felt was his racing heartbeat or his throbbing cock, aching and needy.

For a moment, he pulled back. His smouldering eyes met yours and Steb thoroughly enjoyed the ruined look that swam in your lust-widened pupils. The marks and reddened skin were a delicious look on you, and it only served to make his cock feel heavier in his pants.

Steb’s head sunk back into your shoulder, biting and nipping with more forced than before — the way he seemed so intent on devouring you, tasting every inch of you that you offered, made you mewl.

You whimper, but don't resist as Steb moves to settle between your legs, all but haphazardly manhandling you with his needy grasp.

His ears flick at every sound you make. It was utter indulgence the way you hum and sigh and gasp, tantalising in a way that went straight to his cock. You sound so much better if you were even closer if that were even possible with the way he pressed your bodies flush. 

Steb let out a sinful moan, grinding his throbbing cock against your clothed cunt, catching on your warm, pulsing clit. The noise and the way his hips buck into you has your eyes fluttering closed.

You shift, tightening your legs around his slender hips, moaning into his ear as you feel him grind harder against your cunt. He pants down your neck, and you feel the sweat and heat starting to creep into the miniscule gaps between you.

Teeth nip at your earlobe, nibbling so delicately it makes you shiver. They trace your jaw, kiss the nerves that lay under your ear and trail down your soft neck in what feels like worship. You grip Steb tightly, one hand twisting itself into his jacket while the other runs up the length of his spine before drifting towards his ear, petting the ends with a trembling eagerness.

It pays off as he gasps against the junction of you neck; his hips cant into you with a jolt. You can’t help but smile, pleased, as you trail your fingers feather-light across the delicate frills you could reach — watching as they fluttered out of sync at your touch.

He pulls back, flushed, with swollen lips that had felt so hot against your skin and looks at you with such wet eyes. God, he’s pretty when he’s needing it so bad.

Your hand travels in reverse, over his frills and then his ear and tangles in his hair, before you pull him into a deep kiss. It’s hungry and heavy and you swallow each other whole as Steb’s hip move sensually slow.

His hands find their way under your shirt, finally. His fingers skip down your sides like sparking electricity. 

You moan into the kiss, pressing your warm cunt against his leaking cock in a way that makes him shudder and grunt, chasing his tongue. Your cunt throbs as he does much the same, but Steb-like — quieter, more intimate than wanton. You love it, he’s yours alone, you’re the only one who gets to hear him whimpering desperately into their ear.

His thumbs dig into your waist, holding you tighter, and you writhe in your spot at the feeling.

A breathless, loud moan bubbles from Steb’s throat as his face twists in pleasure against your mouth. He pulls back and you're graced with the pretty sight of his head tilted back and his mouth opening in a silent continuation of a moan. His cock ruts into you frantically, you hold him tightly, it feels like you’re reuniting after years — but no, a few days is all it takes to become so starved of you he becomes a sort of need-driven beast.

You can feel your own arousal pool in your underwear even better when he pushes you back into the wall hard, his hips bucking wilding against your cunt. You arch into the wild movement, deep, heady desire pooling in your gut as you angle yourself to catch you clit on Steb’s thrusts.

You pull away from the kiss, panting, and he takes the opportunity to bite down hard on your shoulder. You yelp and it only sends a pang of need to his gut. Your clit is throbbing and his cock aches as the feeling of his length rutting sloppily against your clothes folds.

Steb prying your thighs apart, gripping at your ass and pulling the soft plane of your cunt even closer. His thrusts become sharper, an unraveling held in the jerking motion that begged for just a little more.

He groans and you almost drool at the rare sound. Its muffled, in a familiar way, when he bites down on the bruised flesh of his bottom lip. He’s close. You grin through a whine at the thought, your hands tangling in his hair yet again and giving it a tug.

It pulls Steb’s face away from you enough to enjoy the way his eyes roll back as his hips move in an even more erratic pattern as he cums. The vigour of his thrusts as he rides his high tips you over the edge soon after, making you grip his hair as tight as he was gripping your ass.

Panting, still out of breath, you guide his lips to yours; a kiss strikingly sweet compared to the last god knows how long. You can feel him smile against you and the feeling is contagious. You know you both have each other, the world feels at peace again.

A/N: I figured out how to do the cool text I'm so proud of myself! (if I post this and it breaks I'm gonna lose it!) if u saw me on ao3 first ily

banner cr: @/cafekitsune

[sykoangels]

cockwarming with wade wilson 💋

cockwarming is such a comforting concept for mister Wade Wilson. you just sitting on his cock keeping it warm as he does miscellaneous tasks he teases your nipples and aching clit. “you know what’s nice about this hun I get to feel you squirm on my cock begging for movement while I sit back and relax and watch adventure time.” wade giggles before nipping at your neck before turning back to the tv enjoying his cartoons like some latch key kid. In your opinion, cockwarming felt like a punishment from the depths of hell, like yes let’s sit on your boyfriend's dick and don’t move but constantly feel it twitch inside your pussy like a goddamn Beyblade. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan as his words sent a shiver down your spine. The sensation of Wade's cock inside you was unbearable, a mix of pleasure and pain that made your body tense. You could feel it twitching, like a restless beast trapped within you, desperate for release. “Wade, please," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the adventure time theme song. "I can't take it anymore.” He chuckled again, a soft, amused sound that made you want to both scream and cry. "Shh, it’s the time sandwich episode I need the perfect sandwich recipe told to me by Jake the dog and BMO” he murmured, his fingers lightly tracing circles on your inner thigh moving scarily close to your clit. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on anything but the throbbing between your legs. But it was impossible. Every slight movement Wade made sent waves of electricity through your body, making your breath catch in your throat. Suddenly, Wade shifted beneath you, adjusting his position slightly. The change was minuscule, but it was enough to send his cock pressing against your cervix. A sharp spike of pain shot through you, followed by an overwhelming wave of pleasure that made your head spin.

"Fuck!" you gasped, your hands gripping his thighs tightly, nails digging into his skin. Wade's laughter filled the room, a deep, rich sound that echoed off the walls. "Feeling a little sensitive today, are we?" he teased, his voice thick with amusement. You didn't answer, couldn't answer. Your mind was consumed by the sensations coursing through your body, every nerve ending alight with a fiery intensity that threatened to consume you. "Maybe I should give you something else to think about," Wade mused, his voice dropping to a whisper as he nips at your neck before licking it. Before you could respond, his hands were on your breasts, cupping them gently before giving them a sharp squeeze. You cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure that made your body arch involuntarily. "Wade!" you gasped, your eyes wide with surprise. He just laughed again, the sound sending vibrations through your body. "What? Can't handle a little attention? I thought you could since you always beg for me to touch you like some two dollar hooker.” he taunted, his fingers pinching your nipples hard enough to make you wince. "Please, Wade," you begged, your voice cracking under the strain. "Don’t stop p-please.” But he only chuckled, leaning closer until his lip were brushing against your ear. “Oh baby weren’t stopping till you are dripping cum out of that pretty pussy.” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. You whimpered, your body trembling with a mixture of fear and desire. You knew there was no escape, not from Wade, not from this relentless torment that seemed to go on forever. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, Wade's hands moved lower, sliding down your stomach until they reached their destination. With a cruel smile, he began to stroke you, his fingers dancing across your clit with practiced ease. “I’m gonna c-" you screamed, trying to squirm away, but it was too late. The damage was done, the floodgates opened, and there was no stopping the torrent that washed over you. Your body convulsed, every muscle tightening as you came undone, a wild, untamed creature caught in the throes of passion. Wade watched with a satisfied smirk, his hands still moving, still driving you deeper into the orgasmic delight.

you collapsed against him, gasping for air, your body limp and spent. Wade just chuckled, leaning back and returning his attention to the TV.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he teased, his voice light and carefree.

You didn't answer, couldn't answer. All you could do was lie there, feeling the aftermath of the storm, wondering what would come next.

[buckymorelikefuckme]

what a wicked thing to do

vampire wanda maximoff x fem reader

words: 4.2k

warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** lesbian vampires yes GAWD, fantasy au, inaccurate historical au, smut, fingering, implied soulmates (?? kinda i guess), biting 👀, mention of blood, does this count as hurt/comfort? we shall see!! and uhhh it's kinda spooky ooky vibes but it's not really dark? i think. pls let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: listen..... i've already got spooky season in the brain and i really wanted to reshare this fic. i've edited it a little but i've also left the link to where i orphaned it on ao3 in the title if you prefer reading there~ any and all mistakes are my own! feedback is greatly appreciated and heavily encouraged pls and thank ♡ xoxo

wanda maximoff masterlist || main masterlist

It’s that time of year in between autumn and winter where it’s only getting colder and colder, no reprieve even during the sun’s highest point of the day. Part of you worries it’s a mistake to wander through the woods like this, especially so close to sunset.

But then you remember the briefest moment when you saw her, when your eyes met hers; it happened so quickly, but also felt as if time stopped. Something flashed in her gaze before she looked away and disappeared in the busy crowds of the village.

That moment, as brief as it was, leads you here. You hug your arms tighter to your torso, cursing the bitter wind whipping around you. Your dress had been a bright idea when you’d first thought of it. Now, you’re wondering why you thought such a plunging neckline would be smart, considering the seasonable chill in the air.

Although, you think with a flutter in your stomach, that’s not exactly true. You know exactly why you chose this dress.

There’s hardly any light left in the sky by now. You’re kicking yourself for getting lost in the woods, wondering if anyone would notice, or care, whether or not you return to the village. You have no family, no money, nothing tying you to anyone or anything. You work odd jobs to be able to make ends meet. The people knew of you, but you are sure they hardly concerned themselves with your well-being.

But then, when your gaze had met her own, you’d felt seen for the first time in ages. It was like she could see everything inside your mind, every ounce of longing and every bit of loneliness, even in the split second she held your stare. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since then. Nearly two weeks have passed, and you’d finally decided to find out if the stories that follow her hold any truth. They are quite colorful, full of fantasy and myth, surely decorated to sound more elaborate as the years go on. Fantasy and myth, perhaps, but one particular piece of information continues to remain the same.

She hasn’t seemed to age in the fifteen years she’s spent living near your village. Not one line or wrinkle to be seen on her pale skin. Not one gray hair on her head. Some of the elders even swear they'd seen her when they were children.

Her home is a mystery, one that stays that way out of fear. There is something about her eyes, some say, something off, not quite right. Because of this, no one has felt compelled enough to try finding her home.

At least, not until you.

You’re beginning to think you are truly lost, feeling hopeless, when you finally spot something in the distance. But just as relief washes through you, the rain starts. Each drop feels like sharp, stabbing pieces of ice landing on your exposed flesh, soaking into the thin fabric of your dress. It takes mere minutes for you to become drenched. Your dress is now clinging to your body uncomfortably, the cold even more biting than it already had been.

It comes into view, what you’d spotted several meters back, easier to make out. A looming castle breaks through the trees, windows lit with candles.

Your arms and feet are going numb, but you push through, stumbling your way to a cobblestone path that leads to tall, wooden doors. With a trembling hand, you raise the door knocker and bang it against the door as loud as you can manage, praying whoever is inside will hear.

Your wait is short lived, thankfully. The door creaks open loudly to reveal the very woman you’d been searching for. If she’s shocked to see you, she hides it well. She looks as regal as ever. A black dress hugs her lithe body, her hair perfectly brushed and styled. This close to her, you can see what the people mean. She looks ageless.

“E-excuse me, madam,” you begin, trying your best to keep your teeth from chattering. “I-I’m terribly lost and I d-don’t think I can find my w-way back to the village.”

The woman lets her eyes roam your shivering frame, lingering on your glistening chest for a second, then meets your pleading gaze.

“Of course. Please, do come in. I’m sure you’re cold.”

“Th-thank you,” you reply earnestly.

She steps aside, leaving just enough space for you to squeeze by.

“Think nothing of it,” she assures you. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need, at least until the storm passes.”

As the door closes behind her, you take in as much of the space as possible. With it being nighttime, the candles can only do so much. For a castle, it is rather large, but it’s not quite as foreboding as you would have imagined. Though, you surmise, you hadn’t really known what to expect at all.

“Would you like something dry to change into?”

You whirl around, almost tripping over your feet as her voice registers, so close to your ear.

She smiles, amusement tickling the corners of her mouth. “Perhaps a cup of tea?”

Swallowing roughly, you nod, offering a smile of thanks in return.

“Very good. You should go sit by the fire to warm up while I get everything sorted.”

She points toward a room where you can see flickering light dancing off the walls. You nod again, letting your tired feet follow the promise of warmth. The closer you get to the large fireplace, the harder you shiver, goosebumps rising along your skin. You stand as close as you deem safe, hands held out to thaw them. For the second time, she sneaks up behind you.

“This is all I could manage to find.”

You gasp as you turn to face her. She’s still smiling as she holds up the proffered item of dry clothing.

“You frightened me,” you state dumbly, huffing a quiet laugh.

“I did not mean to,” she replies.

“It’s okay.” You glance at the clothes in her hand, a frown forming on your face. “A… dressing gown?”

She makes a sympathetic face. “It was all I could find,” she repeats.

Her eyes dip down to your chest again. They flash, just like in the village, but you’re sure it could have just been the fire reflecting in them. You look down to see what she’s staring at and heat rushes up your neck. Your nipples are clearly outlined against the wet fabric of your dress.

“Oh,” you murmur as you lift your arms to cover yourself.

She clears her throat delicately. “Take this. You’ll get sick if you keep your wet clothes on.” She pointedly holds the dressing gown out to you again until you gingerly take it. “I’ll go get the kettle started while you change.”

“Thank you,” you return quietly.

When you’re sure she’s gone, you undress as quickly as you can, more shivers wracking your frame as you stand naked in her drawing room for a few seconds before pulling on the silk dressing gown, tying it securely around your waist.

While you wait you decide to get a better look of the room. A few paintings hang on the dark walls, but mostly they’re covered with floor to ceiling shelves and stuffed to the brim with books. You take notice of a few spots where the dust hasn’t seemed to settle in front of them, figuring those must be her favorites. A plush chaise sits in the center of the room with two chairs on either side, atop an ornate rug that rests on most of the floor. There are a couple small tables between the chaise and chairs with candelabras on them, and a wide, lower table in front of them. You spot a desk by the only window in the room.

There’s nothing particularly personal about the space. It almost feels as if she’s newly moved in. But you know that can’t be true, especially since so many people in the village have seen her visit town for years now.

A piece of parchment on the desk catches your eye. You debate over whether or not you should let your curiosity get the better of you, your feet slowly carrying you over to where the paper lay. There’s writing on the top piece, and you get as far as the addressed “Brother,” but then hear her round the corner and quickly back away.

“I wasn’t sure if you took cream and sugar, so I brought them just in case,” she tells you, setting a silver tray on the low-lying table that held the teapot and teacups.

You walk over as she pours the tea into both cups. You pick one up and carefully drop two lumps of sugar into yours, stirring it with your teaspoon until you’re satisfied it’s melted. A careful sip as you sit down and you hum happily.

“Better?” she asks, smiling and taking a sip of her own tea, sitting beside you.

It occurs to you suddenly that you hadn’t asked for introductions. You scold yourself internally, knowing you had better etiquette than that.

“I must apologize, I seem to have forgotten my manners. I never introduced myself,” you say, then offer your name. “And what is yours, madam?”

“You may call me Wanda,” she replies.

“Well, I owe you a great deal for helping me, Wanda. I cannot thank you enough.”

She waves a dismissive hand. “Please, there is no need. I’m glad I was here and that you aren’t in danger of freezing to death.”

“As am I,” you respond, laughing lightly.

Silence settles between you. Your mind whirls with hundreds of questions, but you don’t know where to begin. Your plan to find her only consisted of just that— finding her. Now that you’re here, you aren’t quite sure what to do. Or say, for that matter.

You can feel her eyes observing you like a caress. You struggle not to squirm or shiver, though you are no longer cold. No, there is no chill clinging to your bones anymore. Her stare alone provides enough heat. You chance a glimpse of her from the corner of your eye, but she catches it. She purses her lips to keep from smiling in amusement.

“So,” you blurt, cheeks pinking, “have you lived here long?”

You bite the inside of your cheek as soon as the words leave your mouth. Stupid, stupid girl.

Thankfully, Wanda laughs.

“Quite,” she says teasingly, like she’s letting you in on a joke.

You nod. “I see. Is it a family home?”

She tilts her head consideringly. “Of a sort.”

What is that supposed to mean? Miraculously, you don’t ask that question aloud.

“Do you… Do you live alone?”

You’re not sure why you ask. Perhaps it’s that you haven’t heard any other movement throughout the castle that indicated a waiting staff of some sort. Afterall, she was the one to fetch the tea.

“I do,” she says.

You don’t want to examine it too closely, but you’re positive you note a hint of longing in her tone.

“S’a lot of space for one person,” you muse in acknowledgment.

She nods. “Indeed. However, I’m sure I’ll find the right companion soon.”

You take another sip of your tea to avoid replying, but are not able to avoid meeting her gaze. The look in her eyes is something you’ve never seen directed at you. You’re hesitant to think it could be want, open desire. Not from a woman like her.

—

Wanda still cannot believe that you’d shown up at her door.

She’s spent months watching you from a distance, never allowing herself to be seen by you—not until she felt it was time. From the very first moment she caught sight of you, she knew. You are hers. Her mouth watered when the wind brought your scent to her. There was not a doubt in her mind about whether she would have you; she simply would.

She had waited, ever so patiently, watching you as you roamed the streets of the village. You didn’t seem to have very many acquaintances, if any at all, and you were always alone. Wanda quickly figured out that you were without a family as well.

Selfishly, she’d been happy about these facts.

Finally, Wanda allowed herself to meet your gaze. It was quick, but she knew her eyes flashed, knew that she piqued your curiosity. It would only be a matter of time.

After nearly two weeks had gone by, however, she had started to think it hadn’t worked. She’d planned on returning to town to purposefully cross your path again, but as luck would have it, you came to her. As soon as she heard the knock on her door, she smiled.

Now, as she sits next to you on the chaise, your skin glowing in the firelight, she finds it harder to maintain her control. This close, your scent is even more intoxicating. Wanda can tell that you’re curious about her. The questions you want to ask are swirling behind your eyes. And now that you’re here, she decides she’ll answer whatever you ask, give you anything you want.

You’ve gone quiet, though, so she does some prodding of her own.

“What were you doing out in the woods?” Dressed like that, blessedly, goes unsaid.

You shyly glance down at your lap. “I, uh, I like to take walks,” you mutter into your teacup as you go to take another sip.

Wanda hums. A plausible excuse, indeed. You carefully lean forward to set your cup and saucer on the table and when you sit back you move your hair over to one shoulder. Wanda’s eyes zero in on the pulsepoint of your neck. If she focuses hard enough, she can see your heartbeat throbbing beneath your skin. It makes her teeth itch, makes her control waver even more.

When she drags her gaze away from your neck, she finds you already observing her. Her desire is clearly reflected in your eyes and the feeling is heady.

—

“Are you warm now?” she wonders.

“Yes,” you whisper, your breathing picking up, making your breasts heave alluringly.

You’d go as far as saying you are overheating. The dressing gown, where you’d been unsure and embarrassed of being nude underneath it before, is now a blessing. Your body feels alight with an unseen, growing fire. Shifting on the chaise, you don’t notice the sleeve slip down your shoulder, only registering the air skimming across your collarbones. You let out a surprised gasp when you feel something cold on your bare arm.

Peering down reveals it to be Wanda’s hand carefully sliding the sleeve back up into place. Your brows pull together in a frown.

“Your hand…” you mumble, trailing off.

She lets it linger on your shoulder for a moment, then slowly traces down your arm, her thumb grazing the side of your breast. Your nipples tighten, thighs clenching together as you watch her fingers stop at your wrist. Though her touch is cold, it feels like a relief against the searing heat of your flesh. You peek at her through your lashes and find her expression to be one of complete hunger.

Feeling emboldened, you hold her stare as you shift to pull the sleeve down again.

Her lips lift on one side, her teeth glinting dangerously. “Are you sure of what you’re doing?” she asks.

You blink, faux innocence shifting behind your eyes. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Wanda takes a deep, steadying breath, though it only helps in inhaling your scent more. She says your name. “Why do you think you are here?” The question catches you off guard. Wanda shifts even closer to you, watching your throat bob as you swallow. “We both know it isn’t because you accidentally got lost in the woods. You were out there with a purpose. What was it?”

You lick your lips, noticing her gaze immediately drop to them. It makes your heart pound in your chest.

“I don’t know,” you reply, unsure.

She leans in, her nose nearly touching yours. “You do,” she whispers, without doubt. “Why are you here?”

Your eyes flutter closed, head tilting back without you being aware of it, exposing your neck. You feel her presence mere centimeters away from you, her breath puffing out along the column of your throat.

“I… I felt drawn here. It feels like I was meant to be here,” you say, quiet, almost hoping she doesn’t hear you.

It feels ridiculous to say it out loud. It’s one thing to have that thought sit in the back of your mind where you could pretend it didn’t exist, but to admit it aloud is entirely different.

“With me?”

You shiver at her words, her lips having softly dragged across your skin. Helplessly, you nod.

“Are you afraid?”

That makes you frown, but you adamantly reply, “No.”

“Open your eyes,” she pleads.

You follow her instruction, wary, but gasp at what you see. Sharp fangs peek out from Wanda’s lips, her eyes so pale they’re almost white now. Though your heart continues to race, it’s not out of fear. It should scare you, it should send you running, but you find your hand slowly rising to carefully trace a finger down one of her fangs, amazed that she even lets you.

“You’re…” You start, meeting her patient gaze once more. “Beautiful,” you finish in a whisper, because she is. You go to reach for her face to stroke her cheek, but she lurches backward. In a blink, Wanda’s on the other side of the chaise. Disbelief paints her features.

“You think I’m… beautiful?”

“Of course,” you state plainly, brows furrowing. Wanda continues staring at you in wonder. “You said I was here for a reason.” Ironically, she’s now wary of you as you shuffle closer to her. “I know what that reason is now.”

“Which is?” she asks apprehensively.

“You,” you murmur, cupping her cheek. “I’m here for you.”

Wanda looks as if she’s scared to accept this, to hope for it to be real. You steal away those worries by leaning in to place a soft kiss to her lips. She inhales sharply, eyes squeezing shut, her cold hands gripping your wrist almost painfully. You give her a moment, kissing her forehead as she gathers her emotions, keeping her gaze down.

“Are you sure?”

Her voice cracks softly, but her grip on your wrist loosens as you move it. You lift her chin so she’s looking at you.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

She stares at your lips for a few seconds, and then, as your words sink in, they seem to send her into action. She surges forward and captures your lips, more sure, more eager than before. You respond in kind, pulling her as close as possible, sighing into her mouth.

You quickly find yourself on your back on the chaise, Wanda above you, bodies slotting perfectly into each other like lost puzzle pieces. You feel her hand slide down from where it was in your hair to graze along your sternum. Then her hand cups your breast, thumb swiping across your nipple, and you gasp. It’s the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss and Wanda takes it.

Her tongue slides against yours and you whine, clutching at her like she’s the only thing tethering you to this earth. It becomes so easy to let her settle between your thighs, to arch into her touch and slide your tongue in her mouth, delicately tracing over her fangs. Wanda shudders, grunting inelegantly before wrenching herself away, panting heavily into the space between you. You blindly chase after her, opening your eyes in confusion.

Wanda’s gaze is intent on your neck, full of desire. The weight of the moment hits you, then. What exactly it would mean if you give in to her. So, with full faith in your decision, you tilt your head ever so slightly and she goes perfectly still.

“Go ahead,” you encourage.

She shakes her head. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

You huff. “I do. I want you to do this.” You know she won’t look at you just yet, so you lace both your and her fingers together and squeeze hers as you continue. “I need you to do this.”

“If I do,” she starts, swallowing thickly, “I won’t be able to stop. You’ll end up like me.”

You duck your head to catch her stare. “And what’s wrong with that?”

She closes her eyes and falls silent for a moment. The weight of your words fall over the two of you like a winter blanket.

“I’ve waited so long,” she confesses, voice quiet, shaking and timid.

“For me?” you ask. She nods. “I’ve been looking for something, or someone, to make me feel whole all my life.” You use your free hand to stroke her cheek. Even with her eyes closed, she leans into you. “I’ve waited for you, too.”

When she finally looks at you, you know there’s no going back for either of you.

“It’s going to hurt,” she warns.

“That’s okay. It will only be temporary.”

She smiles then, slow and teasing. “I can ease the pain, you know.”

Her free hand tugs lightly on the ties holding your dressing gown closed, raising her eyebrows in silent question. You bite your lip and nod, shivering in anticipation. She undoes the careful bow you’d tied, easing it open and exposing your body to her hungry gaze.

If you felt heated before, you’re an inferno now. Her hands reverently map out every curve of your body. She leans down and plants a kiss above your belly button. It makes your stomach clench in want, but you make yourself lie there and take whatever she plans on giving you. Her kisses lead up your torso, until she’s eye level with your breasts, and before you can comprehend her movement, she’s taking one of your nipples into her mouth.

“God,” you whimper, head thrown back as you push your chest into her face.

“No,” Wanda giggles, “just me.”

You try to laugh, but it turns into a gasping moan when she pinches your other nipple between cold fingers. Your thighs attempt to close around her, yet it’s futile. Her free hand begins its descent down to the warm heat between your legs. Your hips buck into her touch, crying out when her fingers make contact with your clit.

“I’m going to do everything I can to make this feel good, okay? Let me take care of you.”

You nod quickly, your mouth going dry. When a single finger enters you, you forget how to breathe for a second, but then she’s sliding it out and back in, setting a steady rhythm, and you’re back to panting and whining. Only a few minutes later, though, you’re wriggling around, begging for more. She adds another finger and picks up the pace.

“Oh,” you gasp, your legs falling open wider.

Wanda buries her face in your neck, inhaling loudly, groaning. She licks across the skin there, nipping at you.

“Wanda,” you whimper.

“I know, my love,” she rasps. “You’re so close.”

Your hands have drifted above you, clutching at the pillows on the chaise, your hips moving in tandem with her fingers. Her thumb meets your clit, adding to the building warmth in your belly. It swells and swells, until finally, it has nowhere else to go and explodes within you.

You feel her teeth sink into your neck at the very same moment, and you can only yell brokenly into the air. Pain and pleasure war inside you, both white hot and searing, marrying themselves into a delicious and lethal combination. You can feel blood trickle down your throat, the same way you can still feel her fingers thrusting into you. It seems to never end and you grow limp beneath her, unable to handle the sensations flowing through you.

She finally slows, removing her teeth and licking over the wound. As her fingers slide free, she brushes your sweaty hair off your forehead with her clean hand.

“Sleep now,” she instructs, kissing you softly.

You can’t even attempt to argue, your body listening to her and promptly sending you into a deep slumber.

—

When you wake, before you even open your eyes, you’re aware of a few things.

To start, you’re no longer on the chaise. You’re on a luxurious bed, which is presumably Wanda’s. Your hearing is significantly better, as is your sense of smell. There’s a low thrum of energy coursing through your veins, like you’re on edge but don’t know why. But the more important thing you’re aware of is the feeling of eyes on you.

“I know you’re awake now.”

You crack open one eye and see Wanda smirking at you from the other end of the bed. You smile and sigh happily.

“How do you feel?” she asks.

You carefully sit up and stretch. You notice her ogling your still naked body and give her a smirk of your own. Shifting onto your knees, you crawl over the bed until you reach her and straddle her lap.

“Hungry,” you answer before grasping her face in your hands and attaching your mouth to hers.

With a force she hadn’t used before, she tosses you backward and is on top of you in a flash, a devilish smile on her tragically beautiful face.

“Good.”

[likeprongstostars]

MERMAY (where i lie i will draw mermaids the whole month and give up after the 1st)

[wormtitty]

wake up everybody new iwtv rpf just dropped.

[zal-g0]

Fukouna girl.... . . Fukouna gir .l.. save me💔💔

[skynapple]

Budding Romance | Ch 26

Love and Deepspace | Jeremiah x MC / slow-burn / friends-to-lovers | Themes: angst, guilt, fluff, jealousy

warnings: violence, blood, conflict

Multi-chapter | A03 link

Beginning | <- Prev | Next ->

"When Stars Burn Out"

Of talks and forget-me-nots

Jeremiah wasn't sure what to expect from the man he'd spent so much time avoiding lately. Jealousy was Xavier's middle name; it had been since their academy days. Knowing that much didn't make it any easier, and only increased the sweat forming beadlets on his palms. The most horrifying battles he'd ever been in felt like a distant memory. In those days, he'd sought strength and comfort in his comrades. In her . Now there was none of that. Wanderers would either strike him down or he'd live to fight another day. He didn't know those wanderers, and wouldn't have to wake up and face them and have conversations with them after. 

The sick feeling like rocks in his stomach turned and he swallowed back the taste of bile while he approached their meeting place. A quiet clearing in Xavier's neighborhood park area, completely hidden by trees, and surrounded by flowers. It was so him. Jeremiah wondered if he chose it because the scent of florals calmed them both, as it often did. Today made him sicker. This was his mess to sort out.

A usual casual or sarcastic greeting was dropped, exchanged for cold silence while footsteps trampling flowers felt as heavy as movementless weighted footsteps in a dream. Xavier had his eyes closed, sitting amongst the flowers like he belonged there. A sleeping prince under a spell.

It almost made Jeremiah believe he could have a normal conversation with the man. However, Xavier's eyes opened, and steely blue eyes flashed like blue flames, crashing into murky hazel waters. Jeremiah clenched his jaw, not sure whether to ask Astra for strength and mercy, or to curse the god for the situation. Being lost on the planet. Their planet requiring an innocent heart. All of it.

Only icy cold flowed through his veins as he took a deep breath, opening his mouth to speak despite never feeling so suffocated by his own lack of articulation. He didn't get a chance to start.

"These used to be her favorite." Xavier started, looking at their landscape. Instead of the coldness Jeremiah had expected from the military captain he'd know for so long now, Xavier's voice was small, almost like speaking to himself.

For the first time, Jeremiah looked around. Really looked. 

"I... aren't these your favorite?"

"Yeah. They were." He still didn't meet Jeremiah's face, voice still soft. "I don't think she knew."

A new emotion coursed through Jeremiah's bones, and the one he'd feared the most, mixing in with the rest of the fear and guilt. This ache was different. It was sympathy and pain for a friend he'd deeply hurt. It occurred to him. Xavier knew .

His heart pounded louder and louder in his ears while his voice grew quiet, too, watching the blonde head stand up to his full height.

"How long have you known?"

Xavier finally looked at him, disappointment ridden in his brow, a bite rising to his tone, throwing Jeremiah off. "Since when does she like sunflowers?"

"What? She does?"

Now Xavier gritted his teeth and Jeremiah braced himself while a light breeze kicked up pollen around them, creating a strangely soft magic and sunlight-dusted atmosphere in direct contrast to the lightning threatening to strike between the two men

"Don't play dumb with me, Jeremiah."

"I- I'm not! I swear it! Xavier, listen, please, I didn't- I didn't intend for things to get this- I didn't want to. I know how much she means to you! Why would I involve myself like that? She came to me and I tried to keep her towards you and she-"

" Stop ," Xavier interrupted the stammering mess of brown curls. 

"You can't lie to me like you haven't been-"

"I'm not! I really tried to keep things the way they were but she-"

" Why ? You weren't going to tell me. And then you went behind my back-"

"I never meant-"

"But you did . Don't you see it?"

Jeremiah held his breath, trembling hands while Xavier held out an accusatory hand. The wind around them had died down to a hush, almost like holding it's own like the air being held in his chest.

"What exactly did you come here to say, Jeremiah," he spat, arms clenched at his side while he took heavy steps forward.

"That you lied? That you're sorry? That she chose you? That you're better?"

Jeremiah scoffed, the wrong reaction, but he couldn't hold it in almost as if in protection against his friends statements born of pain. "Don't put words in my mouth! I came to try to explain, if you'd ever like to listen."

"My ears weren't built to understand the tongue of fools ."

" Astra on high , Xavier. Look, I am sorry. You're right! Is that what you want to hear? I'm a coward. I- I couldn't admit anything to myself so I lied to myself to think I could fix things but she... she captivated me. And I let myself fall. I messed up. I came to-"

"I don't see how you could possibly have anything else to say."

"Xavier, by the light of the stars-" Jeremiah reached to grab the edges of Xavier's white jacket, holding him in place. The cold fear had turned to anger, also born of pain. It wasn't easy to see the person he cared about the most besides her in this much pain, especially when of his own doing, but how could he ever explain that? "-would you listen to me!?"

Xavier frowned but didn't interrupt again.

"I came to tell you she's yours !"

Xavier's eyes went wide, and it was as if Jeremiah could see the visualization of a  thousand emotions coursing through his brain.

The next thing Jeremiah saw was stars, which were definitely not visible in the sky during midday. Somehow the sky was very up when it had been at horizon level before. 

Oh. I'm on the ground.

The next thing he registered was the acute sense of pain in his jaw, and the taste of steel over his lips. Xavier's voice was muffled through the ringing in his ears while Jeremiah stumbled to his feet, smashed flowers embedded on his back.

"Xav- W-" 

Smack!

Another disorienting blow, this time to his other side, whatever side that was while he couldn't tell right from left in that moment.

Oh no he doesn't.

Training and brief sprawls and spats in their academy days had trained him for this. One of the reasons Jeremiah had been by Xavier's side for so long was because he was the only one, according to other Backtrackers, stupid enough to stand there.

Jeremiah squared his shoulders and shook off the spinning world, relying on instinct and years of taking otherworldly monsters down. 

"What's wrong with you!? Is this what you wanted!?" He spoke, clearly this time. Remembering that Xavier was left handed, he dove to block an attack from that direction and kicked out in a sweeping motion. The other man grunted and swapped arms to try to confuse him.

Ambidextrous bastard.

Xavier was speaking again and he found it difficult to listen through the oncoming barrage which felt like coming from every direction at speed no wanderers could ever match.

"You dare take her heart, and this is your solution? " Xavier spat out, panting at the exertion of force and pushing off one of Jeremiah's striking hooks.

"You don't love her. You won't even defend it."

Jeremiah felt heat rise in his chest now, replacing the cold from before. 

"Of course I love her! But I know this is wrong, I shouldn't have gotten involved!"

"You don't. You're not even trying. You won't even fight for her." 

"Shut up, you bastard! Don't you see I'm trying to fix things so you can-"

"You don't deserve her." Xavier dealt another direct blow beneath the man's ribs. 

Unable to block, Jeremiah choked over the air lost in his lungs, but he couldn't gasp for air before the blonde had teleported behind him to knock him fully to the ground. Landing hard on his hands and knees he coughed and sputtered, tasting more blood on his lips.

It felt like darkness has descended in the middle of the day, the sun somehow dimmer than before. Even the flowers around them dimmed to darkness as they became one with the black earth beneath from where their roots once stemmed. Jeremiah felt his emotions in turmoil while a dark thought turned in his head. 

"I wanted to give you a choice. I love her enough to let her go because I- I know what she means to you. But if you insist,"

He stood up, unable to stand as tall as he felt.

"At least I won't leave her like you did."

Something flashed in Xavier's eyes, and then in Jeremiah's while blinding light covered his vision. He felt white hot and something seering against his throat, and the familiar hum of the lightblade.

" Repeat that."

Jeremiah let out a chuckle devoid of humor. "I waited with her hundreds of years and she never stopped looking for you. She was always looking for you. Every single day I heard it. But I was the one actually at her side . Maybe a part of her remembered that. I came here for her ! To find her, and find a way for her to live and be happy. You think you're the only one who's been through hell for her? I'm the one who learned which tune of laughter quells her tears-"

" Enough !"

Xavier cried out and Jeremiah felt the pain of it in his heart, and didn't have the mind to care any longer while he released his own blade. Metals of another world, both ancient and distant met in a cacophony of skillful movements, as graceful as they were fervent and dangerous.

Jeremiah had done this dance many times before. He'd seldom won. Today felt like fighting for his life. Beneath them flowers lay in dead droves while they teleported around the clearing, each trying to set the other off balance.

But Xavier was stronger, and faster, and angry, and hurt, and Jeremiah for as much as he was one of the few who could hold his own against him, he wasn't her . Xavier wanted Jeremiah to learn a lesson and no one had ever gotten in Xavier's way. Fear crept in Jeremiah's gaze when he realized, too, that if Xavier wanted you dead , you wouldn't live to complain about it, and Xavier was on top of him again. Sword poised to strike, knee against Jeremiah's ribs. A familiar stinging pain like unwelcome fire singed through his brain and he cried out in pain. A medic had warned him once that the bones there once loosened would be more fragile.

"There are things about her you will neverunderstand. Everything I've ever done is for her ," in spite of Jeremiah's moan in pain from the position, Xavier continued, poised to strike once more. "You may be correct. Maybe she'll be better off if some fool like you is made to disappear-"

Xavier's voice cut off, and for a moment, not that he could think very well over the fact that he could no longer breathe, Jeremiah thought Xavier might be relenting. 

Instead, the roar of a familiar unwelcome guest tore through the trees.

Xavier's red collar flashed and he sprang forward making quick work of the wanderer before returning to where Jeremiah lay writhing amongst the dead blooms.

"Get up."

"Ca- ca-n't-- brea-"

Xavier's frown deepened, but he didn't move. The trees rustled and a protofield began to form around them. Coldly he stepped over the man, leaving him only to gasp and writhe more as panic set in.

Heat began to fill his vision, quickly turning what felt like static electricity.

Then he felt an arm slip under him, and the world went quiet as the warmth of familiar star filled his gaze, like a northern star at night piercing through black clouds, before he could no longer hold his consciousness and the world went quiet once again.

-----

A/N - I've written and rewritten this chapter countless times throughout the entirety of 2024. I started this fic as a silly little thing just for friends and silliness, but I was always leading up to this chapter. Maybe that's what held it up. I felt like it had to be perfect. I wrote it on a long plane ride in April, and again on my commute months later, and again, and again, and it never felt like the right words in all the right order even if not much of it was different each time, and even though it still doesn't feel right, I realized I was kind of not putting my money where my mouth was. This story is about moving on, and letting go, and about forgiving yourself, and hoping for it, and going for it, and telling yourself it's ok to want things. It might be a little wonky, but I'm seeing things through to the end.

Go write your little things <3 you never know what it'll bring you.

[robonerd69]

Hey do you like transformers? Do you like worm by wildbow? DO I HAVE SOMETHING FOR YOU THEN!

[tractorbeamofwoe]

Gabriel Michael headcanons

(AKA lore I just made up) Hi I’m a little bit obsessed with sorry!will actually and especially his character from We Saved a Kingdom and this is also the first thing I’ve written and posted for this fandom so enjoy I guess ok bye <33

***

Gabriel loves animals, literally spends hours outside in the castle gardens scattering seeds and nuts in the grass in the hopes it would attract birds and squirrels.

Sometimes animals will even come up and eat straight from his hand, which makes him lowkey emotional.

A bird once landed on his shoulder and it gave him such a confidence boost.

Rescues injured animals as well of course. He's nursed a number of rabbits, squirrels, foxes and deer back to health.

I like to imagine Helen reincarnated as a deer that came to eat nuts and berries from his hand once and kept nudging him for attention.

She sort of stuck around and became the resident deer in the castle.

No one really realised it was her until she was down by the river one day and she was sniffing at one specific spot. The exact spot where she left Gabriel as a toddler and the exact spot where he was found again by Thomas.

She even finds a basket in a patch of reeds and carries it in her mouth to her son before dropping it at his feet, as if amazed that the 6’6 prince in front of her was once the tiny 3 year old who fit in her arms.

And Gabriel’s so worried he's not the man she imagined he'd be or that he's not making her proud :((

But she quickly shuts down all those assumptions with various head nudges and face licks

He's so used to his father putting pressure on him to be a certain way that he'd never expect it of other people. In fact he'd actively encourage you to be yourself around him and let you know he's a safe space for you to talk about your passions and fears.

I mean you saw how he befriended Dark Dave with zero hesitation and, even knowing he killed his mother, he accepted him as his adoptive dad

Literally the biggest supporter of his gay dads that man is an ally

Helen HATES Thomas and as she should. When she gets let into the castle she recognises his stuff like his crown and she probably gags

Tries to play matchmaker for her son cause there's no way she's gonna be reunited with him after so long just to watch him be a sad loser.

Basically he just loves all creatures big and small

That being said though I feel like he doesn't want to end up with the richest princess in the land as his father encouraged, because that feels in-genuine and more like a business transaction. I can see him settling down with someone more magical like a witch or a shapeshifter instead (reminds him of Dark Dave)

He'd grab all the ingredients they need for their potions even if he has to go to the furthest swamp or forest to get them.

In return they use their powers or potions to heal any injured animals he brings in.

It's canon confirmed he became a dark wizard after the events of the episode as well so they're a perfect match.

I'd like to think he only uses his newly acquired powers for good, though a villain arc would be something interesting to explore at a later date.

He’s more of a healer than a fighter. The thought of battle terrifies him, no matter how much Thomas tries to beat it into him.

Anxious boy

And yeah Thomas was really rough on him growing up so it doesn’t surprise me he’d have a villain arc.

I don't think he'd be a very good villain though sorry.

Haha 'sorry'

Also goes through an angsty “it’s not a phase dad UGH!” phase

Lord knows where he got his love of theatre from but I think it would be silly if his American accent was the product of a curse placed on him as an infant by Dark Dave as a way to get back at Thomas (aside from, you know, killing his wife)

[caelumsnuff]

HEY YOU!!!!

Look at my Vaelum sims 🥺

I love them so much they really have consumed me these past few months, they genuinely have a death grip on my heart like no other

[diiambee]

I think people should use the comedy of karma being a bit more sane and well adjusted once he's grown up and mature a little more. I may be the only person who believes this. I'm not sure.. but it is incredibly funny to me.

[dozydawn]

nimble, a border collie-papillon mix, wins the 12” class in the 2024 masters agility championship. the first time a mixed breed has won at westminster ever.

[hoofpeet]

14 year old artists listen to me right now (gripping you by the shoulders) STOP caring about your "internet presence" right naow. Draw slower and stop trying to boil your art down to an acceptable marketable brand

[madaqueue]

18+ MDNI - f!reader (nasty freak boy who cums too early...i love him)

virgin!satoru who thinks he’s going to die. genuinely, he thinks his heart is about to explode out of his chest and his last memory will be the way you stare down at him with those lust-blown eyes and that awe-struck smile. why else would he be shaking like this, covered in a layer of sweat and lightheaded to the point his vision is swirling?

“are you ready, satoru?” is the only thing he can make out above the ringing in his ears - how can he tell you he only has a few moments to live when your legs are spread like this and he’s so hard it fucking hurts?

virgin!satoru who is the farthest fucking thing from ‘ready’ but he’d rather die than disappoint you, so he’s at least got to try.

with an unsteady hand he swipes the tip of his cock up and down your slit, watching the way the light sparkles with how wet you are, for him.

“you can put it in, baby,” and he fucking groans, he can barely look at you when you talk to him like that, all syrupy sweet and thick and dripping.

virgin!satoru who finally, finally, pushes himself past your entrance. his eyes are locked on the way you swallow his length, the way he’s so hot he can’t breathe, can’t get enough air in because it all smells like you.

virgin!satoru who cums before he even bottoms out. he’s trembling and whining and it only gets worse when your hands find his shoulders and pull him into you.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, fuck-”

“it’s okay,” you coo, and he’s so fucking warm, and he’s grateful he can’t see the smile on your face because he thinks it might actually make his heart stop.

virgin!satoru who straightens his back, slowly pulls his cock out of you and watches in awe as his cum leaks down your thighs, who can’t stop himself from smearing it through your folds with his thumb, who doesn’t miss the way your pussy clenches as he does.

virgin!satoru who’s already hard again, who no longer cares if he’s dying because this must be heaven, who stares back at you with wild, unfocused eyes as he says, “i think…i think i’m ready now.”

a/n: i think i blacked out from lust writing this

[zanmor]

We are well beyond canary in the coalmine warning levels with the way trans people and particularly trans women are treated on this site.

Maybe you've heard the metaphor of allowing wolves and sheep to share the same space, welcoming everyone. You end up with just wolves because allowing them in that space makes it unsafe for any sheep. Or the story about how a nazi goes into a dive bar and is refused service. The bartender then explains to someone else at the bar that if you serve them once they tell their friends and before you know it you're the nazi bar they all go to and normal customers don't feel safe.

Terfs and other bigots are seeing these targeted harassment campaigns succeed against trans women and rejoicing. They see Tumblr ban them and officially stand by those decisions as endorsement for their harassment. It's a sign to bigots across the internet that Tumblr is a good place for them.

And what's more is that a lot of us probably don't realize just how much trans women contribute to Tumblr. The women banned recently were sources of site-wide memes and posts I wasn't even aware originated from them.any years old memes and references can be traced back to trans women on this site.

How many of these folks have to be removed before this is no longer a site you want to be a part of it? Sure you cultivate your own experience, but you can't follow or interact with people who aren't here. And if I wanted to interact with the nazis and terfs I'd go to reddit.

I encourage everyone to reblog this. Trans women shouldn't have to be the only ones speaking out against the bigotry they're experiencing. They shouldn't be the only ones risking their blogs being nuked by staff. We have to stand with them.