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paingoes · 17 hours ago

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Rubies - Trial IV

hiiii. long time no see. wrapping up the trial now! this one is pretty light-hearted ❤️‍🩹

(Content: living weapon whumpee, implied past abuse, past captivity, dehumanization, crying, guilt, comfort, fluff)

“That was cruel,” Kitty hissed, all her hair standing on end, with the edge of a hiss on her voice. “That was torture.”

Silas sat gloomily in the chair beside her, nursing his black eye.

“It was hokey,” he said with a tsk, “Did you really think I was going for sentimentality? If I wanted to press on old wounds, you would know it.”

“Bastard,” Kitty whispered as her eyes narrowed into slits.

Levon leaned forward in the desk chair as if he thought he might have to split them up again. He shot her a warning look.

“It did not seem calculated to me,” Levon admitted, choosing each word carefully. “I personally think torture is too strong a word for it. But the effect was the same.“

“The effect? Crying, running out? The effect was that he won the fucking trial. I gave it to you on a silver platter,” he said disdainfully.

Levon tilted his hand at the wrist. Eh. He didn’t argue the point.

“It was cruel,” Kitty repeated, “You said you’d make it painless.”

“As painless as I could, kitten. I can’t take away what he’s done. No one can.”

“You didn’t have to make him feel worse.”

“It wasn’t about him,” Silas cut in, “This isn’t a personality trial. All it’s ever been about is safety. The council deserves to know what he’s done — what he’s still capable of.”

“He only did it because he was forced. He’s not going to do it again. You know he’s not going to.” She looked skittishly between the two men now, as if she’d felt the ground shift beneath her. Levon’s expression was unreadable, impartial. He left the two of them to their own devices. Silas filled in the empty space.

“We know that? Why? Because he’s quiet? Because he’s polite? All you have to bank on is good will. He’s docile now because they beat it into him. Where do you think he’s going to be once all that brainwashing wears off? Wouldn’t you be mad, if that happened to you?”

Silas poked at the wound showing on the side of her psyche. She only glared back.

“I know I would be,” he answered himself. “I would be furious.”

“Is she going to get in trouble for that?” Delta asked quietly as he sorted through the remaining gauges. He arranged them carefully into their preassigned bins without error.

“Nah,” Apollo shook his head. “It was a legal move. They both had PVP enabled.”

“What?”

Apollo shrugged as he pulled the vinyl pin out from his pocket. There was a dial attached at the bottom end. It only had two settings — ON and OFF.

“Mutual combat laws. As long as they both had theirs set to ON, it’s fair game.”

Delta blinked slowly before he returned his attention back to the color-coded bins.

“I don’t want him to hurt because of me,” he admitted quietly. It was a big deal for him — an admission, any expression of want.

The lab was empty and immaculate but for them and Apollo suspected they both found a kind of calm in that. He liked to keep Delta occupied with the busywork whenever he could, watching as the high bounds of tension melted away into an easy concentration. It wasn’t working so well this time. He could tell Delta had been bothered by the violence. With one hand, he switched his own pin to OFF.

“She won’t do it again,” he promised. He was sure of it. There’d be no need for it anymore. Not here.

The screen flickered on and off, lagged and buffered, left the voices distorted. On the other end, Iza stood bundled up upon the rocky beach. Her red hair stuck out from beneath her woolen hat. In the pale distance beyond her, black birds made great arcs above the water.

Back in the conference room, the atmosphere was bustling, more jovial than it had been all throughout the trial. The air buzzed with a palpable relief. The end was near.

Delta was still quiet, his eyes downcast. In spite of his reservations, he kept his hand wrapped loosely around Kitty’s arm, still desperate for any support she could give. Silas had hit her hard in the sternum during their scuffle. It’d knocked her back hard, but she had no wounds to show for it now. Silas sat across from them at the table, arms crossed, disinterested. All he had to give were closing remarks.

The projector filled with black as a new person joined the call — camera off, mic muted.

“Hi Lun,” Apollo called instantly. “I love you.”

He’d been relieved of his medical duties, just for today. On the screen, a small “❤️” appeared in the chat box. Apollo grinned.

Iza’s image pixelated and then re-rendered itself. For a minute, all there was were cool colors in stripes against the screen. She cursed as she messed with the camera, then gradually materialized came back into plain view. Her gaze was icy, as cold as it must’ve been on the beach. Her breath came like puffs of steam against the frozen air.

“There’s a reason they recruit young. Psychic power tends to reach its apex around the age of twenty — or the equivalent age, for most species. What you’re going to see is a gradual falloff of psychic potency following that. And Delta, correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you getting doped the entire time?”

“…That’s correct.” Delta confirmed. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time. It’d become so routine, he almost forgot about the pills. Amidst all the other pains in his body and the remnants of illness, he couldn’t tell which symptoms were withdrawal and which were just heartbreak.

“Right. If you test him right now, he’s already going to chart lower than he did when he was picked up. That number is only gonna go down from her-“

She ducked, grunting. A small, dark shape dove into the frame. She flew her hands up over her head to protect herself, then swung her fists out at it. It pecked at her hat a final time before retreating.

“Sorry,” she coughed, “Getting fucking- swooped on- um. Yeah. It’s not going to be an ongoing security issue, is what I mean. The threat’s gonna dwindle.”

Iza flinched and waved at the air again, though nothing was around her this time. She sighed in disgust.

“And I’ll say, for character reference, he was very well-behaved when I was with him.”

Apollo tensed at his side, and Delta could tell he hadn’t liked that. He found himself blushing anyway. It was kind of nice when people recognized how hard he was trying. It was a respite from the constant torrent of ungrateful, awful, disrespectful, that played in his head these days.

Levon hummed a little, bouncing his palm off the edge of the chair. He hadn’t sat down once for the entire trial.

“Thank you, Iza. Can we hear from Lun, on the espionage front? Anything emergent?”

The counsel waited a while in hushed silence. Eventually, a message flashed onto the screen.

“💀”

“Presumed dead,” Levon filled in the blank.

“That seems a bit ambiguous,” Silas objected.

“Is he presumed dead, Lun?”

“👍”

“Is anyone looking for him, to your knowledge?”

“❌”

Silas grumbled, “It’s like a fucking oujia board.”

“I’m satisfied,” Levon shrugged. “Any further comments?”

“Hey, Levon, when can I come ba-“

“Thank you, Iza. Goodbye.”

The call ended as quickly as it could. The gradient blue-green wallpaper filled up the space of the projector. He ran his hand through his hair.

“I’m satisfied,” he repeated. “If there’s no objections, we can put this to a vote right now.”

Delta could not bring himself to look. Nobody objected.

“Out of the room,” Levon told him.

Delta stood up immediately, sensing just from the tone that it was an order for him. Kitty followed him out, placing one hand gently on his shoulder to guide him. She held the door open for him. Apollo trailed quietly behind them, pausing only to glare back at Levon, as if that silent threat counted for anything at all.

In the end, it was unanimous.

One year of probation.

That was all.

He cried in his room all day. Levon had helped him to clean it up the first time he’d destroyed it, but none of the broken furniture had been replaced. He must’ve known it wouldn’t be necessary anymore. The new room wouldn’t lock from the outside. Delta would be allowed to leave it.

He would be allowed to leave base, if he wanted to. If he thought he was ready.

The conditions of the probation were as follows:

No usage of powers registering over 5000 psi

No death or injury to others, unless in self defense

Remain collared at all times, unless given explicit permission to remove it

He could not believe he was getting off so easily.

“I thought you’d be happy,” Levon said, half-joking as he passed another tissue over.

He didn’t know. It wasn’t fair.

It was easier when it wasn’t up to him. This was the only way he could rationalize it. They had more reason than anyone else to punish him for it — and they hadn’t. He had to accept it as gracefully as if they had.

He sobbed harder, pressing his forehead against his knees.

“You’ll be alright.” Levon promised. What a tall order.

“I’m sorry,” Delta mumbled, for a thousand reasons, to no one in particular.

“I know.”

Delta blinked the glitter out of his eyes as the confetti exploded in his face.

“Surprise!” Kitty cheered. The word was half-formed around the mouthpiece of the noisemaker.

He blinked again.

“It’s the Not Guilty Cake. For the Not-Guilty Party.” She explained, moving both hands in large sweeps over the confectionery. On the cake, in large pink script against the sheet-pan background, it read: “NOT GUILTY!!!! :3c”. Red hearts floated around the edges.

“It’s birthday cake flavored,” she said, “To match the confetti.”

“We wanted it to be thematically cohesive,” Apollo explained. He wore the orange party hat directly over the chain of his headpiece.

Delta covered his mouth. He had smiled, despite himself, and he still felt the need to hide it. It still felt too forbidden.

“Sorry,” he said, not keeping the grin out of his voice. “That’s really funny. I’m sorry I can’t show emotions like a normal person. Um. This is really nice.”

“Oh my god,” Apollo leaned forward with sudden urgency, “Are you laughing?”

Delta turned away, way too desperate to hide it.

“He is,” Apollo said in hushed awe. “Oh my god.”

“Sorry,” Delta said, smiling wider. “I’m really tired.”

He was, too. He was almost delirious. Kitty was laughing too, louder than he was, unmasked. It sounded so natural on her. He wiped at his eyes, almost choking. It was all so much.

“Do you wanna try it?” Apollo urged him to eat, “You don’t have to if you don’t like it.”

“We can bake a new one if you don’t. It won’t be a surprise, though.” Kitty tried to readjust the party hat to fit comfortably in between her ears, then seemed to give up.

“Okay,” Delta agreed quietly. His face was still half-hidden by his hands, embarrassed by all of it. He have never said he didn’t like it. He didn’t want to be ungrateful.

But when he did try it, he was surprised at how sweet it was.

~~~

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @floral-comet-whump @littlebookworm69

@lordcatwich @human-123-person @paperprinxe @whomeidontknowthem @chiswhumpcorner

@bacillusinfection @dietofwormsofficial @ichortwine @whump-queen @lumpywhump

@jumpywhumpywriter

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1nt3rnalpu7ref4ct10n · 1 day ago

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tumblr wont let me post anymore pics for the night so

✨Random Xmen Hcs that i just thought up recently based on xmen tas s1e3 and 4✨

(these are mostly sabretooth related cause big angry kitty man got my brain)

Harnesses: Logan actually (based on the animal) loves harnesses, but probably has bad past experiences w harnesses, so hed need positive reinforcement training (like how you train dogs to not hate muzzles or crates). Victor however L O A T H E S harnesses, based on those videos of cats being unable to function when theyre wearing those walking harnesses for the first time

Scott doesnt know how to properly interact with pets, hes the type to just awkwardly start petting a cat or dog thats sat on his lap and he doesnt know what to do

SCOTTS SO AUTISTIC I DONT CARE WHAT ANYONE SAYS HES AUTISTIC AS FUCK

Vic does that flehmens response thing whenever he smells somethin, its not that its a bad smell (half the time it Is a bad smell *cough cough logan*) its that hes trying to process the smell and what the source is

not based on the episodes i just think its fun: kurts like a weird and adorable mix between a cat, gecko, n owl (i saw fanart of kurt with owl feet and i fuckin love that idea, and hes flexible, he can probably turn his head almost 180 like owls)

OH ABOUT CATS VIC DOES THAT MOUTHING AFFECTION THING BIG CATS DO CAUSE PRESSURE ON TEETH FEELS NICE

Victor also has the tapetum lucidum thing (like logan) so i cant help but always imagine he n Logan are fighting or something in the dark and when they hear a noise they just look up and 2 sets of blue-ish green/copper-red eyes are reflectin whatever light there is

When Victor stretches, he stretches his hands and claws, so his claws like grip onto a table or somethin and he stretches so hard his arms do that shakey flex thing and his claws just rip and tear whatever theyre stuck on, i think theres a video of a tiger doin this somewhere

Logan prob also does the claw stretch thing, hes gotta, claws are the entire length of his fucking forearms, and kurt maybe if he does have claws

idk, this is mostly just talkin about victor bein a 7ft tall cat

KURT IS DIGITIGRADE, kinda/somewhat, ive seen kurt in some of the cartoons be shown as digitigrade and it should be talked about more

not a hc but actually kinda canon SCOTTS A REDHEAD, HIS HAIR COLOR IS LIKE THE SAME AS ROGUE AND GAMBITS

another hair hc/somewhat canon: MAGNETO ALWAYS HAD WHITE HAIR, THATS WHY PIETRO HAS WHITE HAIR ITS FUCKING GENETIC

#x men #logan howlett #xmen wolverine #kurt wagner #nightcrawler xmen #sabretooth #victor creed #scott summers #x men cyclops #.txt post #xmen headcanon #i wanted to talk about the harness n flehmens response #and scott being just a guy with autism #and it evolved into this #still mad tumblrs got a post limit specifically for images thats fuckin dumb #WE CAN LITERALLY SEE IN THE ANIMATED SERIES S1E4 THAT MAGNUS/ERIK ALWAYS HAD WHITE HAIR EVEN AS A KID #or it was just a really light blonde STILL #jus a lil magnus n pietro mention im not sure if its enough for em to be tagged

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kalmiaphlox · 2 days ago

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Damn, this is what it feels like to be you?

AO3 Link / Masterlist

Part 1 / Part 3

Guide Me As You Do

Twisting his head up to rest his chin on her chest, Astarion smiles big and wide. Hircine is immediately suspicious, red eyes narrowed to slits, awaiting whatever he's about to say. “My love, can I play with my—yourself?” “Clarify.”

Pairing: Astarion x Named Female Tav (Hircine)

WC: 6.5k

Main Tags: Body Swap, Humor, Fluff, Smut, Body Worship, Guided Masturbation, Massages, Little Edging, and stretching because its good for the body.

A/N: Don't walk on people's back. it really isn't good for the spine.

A big thank you to @amoremagnificentbastard for your kind words on this chapter 🥰

Tag list: @zozoparsnips

Maybe being alive is the worst thing someone can be.

If Astarion never uses the toilet again, it will still be too soon. Ugh, he feels so dirty—tainted.

Still stuck in Hircine’s body, still subject to her body's needs, he laments his state.

He furiously scrubs his slim body down in the bath, leaving red marks where he might have been a touch too rough and maybe taking too long to thoroughly inspect the wonderful tits now attached to his chest. Any slight movement has them swaying and the way they squeeze and conform around every touch or surface has his core quivering for something. It's so strange, the need to be filled instead of to fill. He wants so badly to slide his fingers into this heat, to know the feeling of being inside himself like that, but Hircine might not like him doing that to her body.

So, fondling his breasts will have to do for now. It's not easy turning Hircine into a whimpering mess that begs for his cock even on their best, most lustful days when she's so tired, so overworked, and then she said she isn't attracted to her own body which certainly puts a damper on getting hot and heavy. Sex might be off the table, and while it's unfortunate to not experience such a once in a lifetime opportunity, they will be just fine without.

He'll take this chance instead to learn what feels good in Hircine’s body so he can apply that when—not if—they return back to themselves.

Newly refreshed, Astarion towels off, but a shocking sight catches his eye.

My—no, Hircine’s reflection!

How did he not even think of the opportunity mirrors provide now?!

Trotting up to the mirror, Astarion gapes in awe at having something shown back at him, even if it isn’t exactly what he wants to see. Hircine is so lucky that he loves this beautiful face, so staring at it in adoration for much too long is no skin off his back…

Oh, he can make those jokes.

His pretty drow wife stares back at him now. Her soft, light gray skin with those rosy undertones that makes his mouth water from how inviting it is, is lit wonderfully in the bathroom candlelight, and the shiny slate and silver streaked hair long, silky and… grabbable. He loves the way her head will bend back when he takes a fistful of those locks to plant a kiss upon her lips or to sink his fangs into the sensual curve of her neck.

Lavender eyes with a gold ring around the pupils reflect back into his gaze, catching the light perfectly. He can’t believe he ever thought them strange, and now the glow that shines so bright in the dark is always something he searches for in their quiet moments of peace in bed or on the den couch. Lavender and gold, a much better combination than the maroon that infests nearly every corner of their lives.

Her straight, high-born nose, and her lovely plump mouth, unfortunately stained with a plum colored lipstick. He understands why she hides her natural lip color under it, but Astarion wants nothing more than to see her ghostly pale lips at all times.

Maybe one day.

Thinking of ghostly pale, he draws his fingers down the smooth skin of her neck until he meets the ridiculously plush swell of a breast, watching as it indents with his touch. Beautiful, truly. He cups the left breast, Belbol as he’s named such a gift, and then moves on to the right one, Iiyola, his treasure. The areolas and nipples are the same bone white of her lips, with the slightest flush of pink beneath the surface. Fuck, he loves sucking on these.

Looking down, Astarion considers, could I? Just for a moment, see how it feels for him to taste his own tits… Hircine does it for him when asked, so why can't he?

Good gods, is he horny. He shakes the thought from his mind, freeing himself from the lust that threatens to overtake him.

With a fluffy, cotton robe wrapped around his body, he returns to the bedroom, throwing open Hircine’s closet to dig out a pair of panties from a dresser that he slides on quickly.

I would much rather be naked, but I'm trying to be respectful.

Hircine stands by the fireplace, running a finger along the marble mantle. She turns, quirking an eyebrow at his appearance. “Did you bathe?”

“Yes,” he says, tightlipped, wrapping his arms around himself for some comfort.

“Wha-What happened? I thought you only needed to pee?”

He claps his hands over his ears. “Don't talk about it! It was awful and everything is ruined!”

The whole ordeal was traumatic. Astarion very badly wants to return to his vampire self. Gods, the grass really isn't greener on the other side.

Taking pity on him, though he can absolutely see the smile she's smothering, Hircine holds out her arms, beckoning him to her. Rushing to melt into her embrace, he's not surprised to find why she likes to be held by him so much, strong arms supporting his thin frame, easily resting her chin on the top of his head so he's swallowed in solace.

What he does not enjoy is the distinct lack of heartbeat from the chest he's resting his ear against, but Hircine, his perfect girl, she never complains about such things.

Hmm, what else is his perfect girl good at?

Oh, he knows.

“Clarify.”

“You’re so bendy. I want to try it out, you know, like when you lay on the floor in the splits or touch your toes to your head.”

“Ah, I see. Go wild, Husband.”

He purrs into her chest, “I love when you call me ‘husband’ in my voice.”

“You are so weird, Husband,” she says as a kiss is pressed to his forehead, “Off you go. Be flexible or whatever.”

Letting out a girlish shriek that they are both alarmed by, Astarion slides the lounge chair against the wall to give himself some space before settling down cross legged on the rug. Maybe he’s getting ahead of himself, now at a loss for what to do next. “So, what do I do?”

Hircine chuckles, a nice deep rumble that he likes. “I’d recommend some stretching so you don’t tear a muscle… Eugh, that’s the worst.” She sits down across from him, straightening her now much longer legs along the floor and Astarion copies the movement. “This is a perfect opportunity because I don’t think you stretch this poor body near enough.

“Now, follow my lead, Husband, but even if you feel like you can go further in your stretches, don’t strain yourself.” One leg is kept straight as the other is bent in, placing her foot against the first leg’s inner thigh. “Try not to arch your back, stay straight and lean forward to touch your toes. You should be able to wrap your hands around your foot.”

Following her verbal instructions and visual cues, Astarion stretches as she does, feeling the pull in his hamstrings. His stomach and chest are pressed against his thigh which isn’t so bad, though he’d prefer them pressed against his actual body.

She demonstrates some more stretches that they perform dutifully before Hircine gives him the go ahead to do as he pleases without wrecking her—his body.

The goal is the splits.

Returning to his feet, Astarion moves off the rug, letting his feet slip slowly out from under him sideways on the polished wood floor. He’s seen Hircine do this a thousand times, she’s always slow and steady with it. Eventually his groin meets the floor, having lowered himself all the way down. Gods, what fun! Hircine is still stretching every single muscle in her body, and Astarion clears his throat to get her attention, smiling deviously. “When we switch back, I am begging you to slide down like this onto my lap, preferably naked.”

She rolls those glinting red eyes, turning over on her side away from him to continue what she was doing in peace, the broad slopes of her back now concealing her completely.

Leaning forward so his stomach presses against the ground, he adjusts his legs out behind him, curling them up and arching his back upwards.

And just like that, his toes are touching the top of his head.

He giggles quietly to himself, giddy at the strangeness of it. “Maybe we should start stretching together. I want to be able to do this.”

“Honestly, I expected you to be in much worse condition. If we stick to a good schedule, I bet you could be bent in half before the year is over.”

“Only if I get to bend you in half afterwards, my love~” He sings in the nice lilting tone of her voice.

“Hmmm…” Is her only response.

Playing around a little longer, Astarion twists this way and that, even doing what she calls a back bend with his forearms and elbows laid flat on the ground. The soreness that's plagued his body settles into a dull ache after all these tests of her flexibility.

Hircine is tense all the time. He can easily recall occasions where he’s rubbed a hand along her shoulders and remarked on the tenseness there. The body must feel so sore since Astarion is more loose…

Has he ever given Hircine a massage? Perhaps not, but now is a good opportunity to try so they can learn what the other wants.

“Pet?” He calls.

Hircine stops rolling her head around on her neck to look at him. “Yes?”

“Care for a massage? I do you, you do me?”

“Oh, that sounds nice.” Getting to her feet, Hircine points to their bed. “Does that work?”

“Yes, love. You lay down first.” He waits at the edge of the bed while she climbs up, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Actually, uhm—”

“What?” She asks.

He wets his plush lips. “Can you take the clothes off? I need to see myself naked, please!” Voice morphing into a beg, the kind she uses when she wants him to come on her face, the deviant.

Hircine sighs, the sound one he is all too familiar with from himself.

Gods, this whole experience is strange.

Always one to give in though, Hircine begins undressing, but that's not what he wants. Rushing forward, Astarion slaps her hands away and starts unfastening each button on his own.

“You just wanted to feel yourself up, didn't you, Husband?” She says, easily letting him do all the work.

“Guilty as charged, my love~” Ah, the sing-songy tone is very fun. His real voice just doesn't hold those notes as smoothly.

The shirt is quickly shucked off, baring the smooth planes of his—now Hircine's chest to him.

Oh, he could just run his tongue over every part of that body. The chiseled pectoral muscles, flat abdominals, those tight pink nipples… He drags the tip of his fingers along every bit, the silky soft feel of his real skin a delight for the senses, making sure to circle the nipples the way Hircine likes and—

Nothing, of course. She stares at him in her usual expectant way.

Astarion pouts. “Are you not turned on because I'm you or because I'm a woman, now?”

“Both.” Not even a speck of hesitation.

“Eugh,” How did he end up with a misandrist that is only physically attracted to men? “What if I turned into a man?”

Those glimmering red eyes flick around the room before closing with a groan of disgust. “Then you'd look like my brother and that's even worse.”

Ah, right.

“Fine.” He sinks into her firm chest, enjoying how it stands strong against his weight. “Hold me tight, please.”

In an instant, Hircine’s arms wrap around him, squeezing Astarion until his breath is forcefully pushed from his lungs in a grunt, and then the pressure is lessened with an “Oops, sorry,” muttered into his hair.

Is he really that strong?

Alright, that’s enough. Astarion pulls away, holding Hircine at arms length. “Still not naked enough.”

If her pretty claret eyes could roll all the way into the back of her head, they absolutely would.

He drops to his knees, just the same as Hircine has many nights before this, always ready to please. They can roleplay for a bit, not that it will amount to anything when Hircine won’t get into the mood. More buttons are undone, pants pulled down, and all that’s left is the underwear. Nothing special, of course, because he wasn’t expecting to be eye level with his cock anytime soon—or ever.

A glance up at Hircine, who looks a mix of bored and intrigued, if such a thing is possible. Well, it’s Hircine, so yes, it is. “Are you about to be weird?” She asks.

“Just let me do this, Hircine. Don’t say anything.” It’s a desperate plea.

“Alright. Can I lay down so you can do… whatever it is you’re about to do?”

“Yes.” He springs to his feet, catching her off guard when he shoves against sturdy chest, sending her back onto their cozy bed. The pants are ripped off completely, tossed somewhere far away before Astarion crawls up, hands on her thighs. “Let’s see what all the fuss is about, hmm?” Hircine covers her handsome face with her hands in response.

Tsk, shy thing.

Straddling her pale thighs, Astarion bites his lip, taking a deep breath to steady himself as his hummingbird heart hammers away at an alarming pace. The sound has always been so delightful for him, but the feel is something else entirely, not quite painful but also a little unnatural—to him at least, this is normal for his lovely Hircine if all their nights together is anything to go by.

Index fingers feather around the edge of his underwear, teasing, ready to enter at any moment.

It’s time. He has to see it as it’s meant to be seen.

Both fingers hook under the fabric, tugging each side down to slowly and delicately reveal the hidden treasure underneath.

For the most part, it’s the same as it's always been, just from a slightly different angle. A cock with testicles. Too bad he can’t get it hard, that’s really what he wants to see. No matter, Astarion can still take a gander. Lifting his flaccid penis, he wraps a hand around it, testing the weight within this body’s smaller grasp. The foreskin is pulled back, exposing the glans.

Is his mouth watering?

Astarion ignores that and the heat pooling between his legs currently. It will do him no good to want his body so badly when the one inside it won’t respond well to any advances.

Gods, they can’t turn back to their bodies soon enough. He needs to be plunging this cock into Hircine's tight cunt now.

He looks up, an arm is thrown over her eyes while he handles his own cock with care. Different bodies be damned, this cock is all his.

“How does it feel?” He asks in a raspy whisper, his mouth so dry from hanging open as he fights with the urge to do something he probably shouldn’t.

Hircine shrugs, indifferent. He swallows down a sigh. He loves his wife as she is.

Dropping his cock in defeat, Astarion slips the underwear the rest of the way off and—

Maybe just a little smell… He brings them to his face and inhales. The underwear also gets scented with his cologne, not that Hircine cares when she isn't all that turned on by smells the way Astarion is. Rosemary, bergamot, brandy and a touch of undeath. Not surprising.

He sighs again and tosses them into the void with the pants.

Massage time.

Propping herself up on elbows, Hircine gives him the saddest, wettest eyes he's ever seen. Is that what he looks like when he's pleading? No wonder his poor wife bends over backwards for him—literally.

“I'm sorry, Husband. I am trying, it's just—”

Astarion halts her words with his finger pressed to her lips. “Hush, pet. There is no need to apologize for not liking something. If you aren't into it, then you aren't into it. I would never begrudge you that. Now, roll over so I can sink my hands into those muscles.”

Always a good listener, Hircine lays face down on the bed with arms crossed under her head for some support. Straddling her hips, which are surprisingly wide comparatively to the body he’s in now—thank the gods Hircine is so flexible—Astarion runs his hands over the rippling muscles in her back. Oh, these are nice.

The hellish, scar-tissue ‘poem’ etched into his skin is promptly ignored. He's focusing on the good today, not the bad.

He kneads his small hands into her upper shoulders, trying to press firmly into them until she shows any discomfort, but nothing comes. “How is it?” He asks.

“A little like nothing, honestly… Am I really so weak?”

Well, that’s disappointing. “I’ve never thought you strong, but I didn’t realize it was this bad. What should I do then? I want you to feel good.”

Lifting her head, Hircine considers what to do. “How about you walk on my back? I bet the weight would feel nice.”

“Gods, my love and her big brain… or is it my brain?” She ‘tuts’ at him as Astarion gets to his feet, balancing carefully atop her back. Even though he’s now used to her more… top-heaviness, what with the mass of hair and her ample bust, balance isn’t something he’s mastered yet, so he steadies himself on a poster of their bed frame. He plants his feet along her shoulder blades. “Is it actually alright to do this to your back?”

“I don’t know—” She groans in his own lustful voice and Astarion’s knees might give out from the sound. Why doesn’t it sound like that to his actual ears? “Ooh, but it feels so good…” If he hadn’t put on panties, slick was going to be dripping from his legs by the end of this.

He walks up and down Hircine’s broad back, putting attentive focus onto spots that get satisfied moans and groans out of her. The feeling is so strange, just digging his heels and toes into someone’s back instead of using hands as a massage… Maybe they’ll have to do this more often if the noises are anything to go by.

It’s really hot. This whole thing is so hot. Is he really so attracted to himself or could this possibly be some leftover remains from Hircine’s body? He doesn’t care, Astarion is loving it.

The thighs are a little too slim to fully walk on, so Astarion works a foot and heel into a thigh one at a time, slowly moving up to the real prize.

That beautiful ass.

It’s perfect. Gods, he hasn’t—Has he even seen it outside of the sides when he twists around best he can?

Hircine is more into his back from how her hands roam up and down the curves of muscle, trailing along his shoulder blades and spine to the dimples in the small of his back.

Astarion much prefers the tits and arse, of Hircine and of himself, apparently.

Settling down to his knees, Astarion roughly pinches one arsecheek and Hircine jolts, peeking over her shoulder with a sharp glare. A wide smile strains his face, probably because Hircine rarely smiles, and he takes handfuls of each of her cheeks, rolling, kneading and squeezing them around.

He leans down and bites one right in the center—hard enough to leave teeth marks.

Hircine yelps, swatting at Astarion. “Alright, enough, you wild animal.”

“Hircine, my darling love, my sweet pet, my perfect girl,” he begs in her adorable whiney voice, “I completely understand that you aren’t able to… get it up, but can I find some release here? I-I need something, I feel like I’m melting. It’s too much.” Astarion is squeezing his thighs together, anything to help the burning within.

It does not help.

Those deep pools of ruby look over his figure, probably finding it all much too desperate. Hircine chews at a lip, the motion so similar to how she does it in her own body. “I don’t mind, but could we… do it together? I could show you what feels the best to me.”

Astarion dives into her bare chest, wrapping his arms around her neck. “Oh my gods, I love you so much. You're so perfect for me, pet. I can put my fingers in my cunt?”

“Mine or yours?”

“Yes. Both. All of it. Anything, please.”

“You're so hungry, Husband.”

“I always am for you.”

She pulls away, pinching his nose. “And you. Can I put something on, please?”

Daring a peek back down, he sighs at his cock. Wretched thing might not be getting any action tonight. “Yes. Underwear only though. I need that skin-on-skin contact.”

“Yes, my lord.” Hircine mocks in a deep, affected accent as she slides off the bed, searching for wherever he threw the underwear.

Is that what it sounds like when he’s being a brat? No wonder she finds him so silly all the time.

“Wait, how should it lay?” Hircine asks. His cockhead sticks straight up out of the underwear, calling to Astarion, pleading to be free once again.

Ignoring the siren call of his own penis, Astarion laughs, beckoning Hircine over. He sticks his hand into the underwear, holding back the snort of laughter when Hircine jumps while he adjusts his cock until it rests where it should, though it’s weird from this angle. “It should just… feel right? Does it?”

“I think so? I’ll get used to it.”

“Good. I am very excited, though I’d much rather be back in my body, shoving my fingers and tongue into your cunt instead.”

“And I would much rather have your cock down my throat, but here we are.”

Hircine dirty talking him in his own voice? Could he come from listening to her describe everything in explicit detail?

Oh absolutely, yes. That's undeniable, but he wants something inside of him. So desperately, horrifically much. His cunt is throbbing with need and he knows the panties are soaked through completely.

“Alright, pet, tell me what to do.” He takes her face in his hands, brushing a thumb across a sharp cheekbone. This is such an amazing experience. Each and every moment will be committed to memory with perfect clarity, if only they had one of those memory shards on hand so they could rewatch this as much as they please.

“I guess it’s time for you to get naked.”

His heart soars, the rhythmic pounding vibrating through his chest. “Will you help me?”

Hircine smiles, soft and sweet and he just adores the way those eyes crinkles around the edges. “Of course, Husband.” She unties the already loosened robe completely, flicking it over and down his shoulder.

With a smug grin, Astarion squeezes his arms around his tits and shakes his shoulders so they jiggle with the movement. He likes it when Hircine does it.

An unimpressed, raised brow is all he gets for that action. “It's just a mirror.” She mutters.

“A mirror? What do you mean?”

“I'm pretending I'm looking into a mirror. This whole thing,” she waves between the two of them, “is hurting my head. I don't know if it's helping.”

“This hurts your head, but not the—” Astarion winces when, as if summoned, Herma-Mora's discordant chittering pierces a blade through his skull.

A̴̢̭̱̘̖͙̮̭͉̙͓͇̯͙̜͒̆̂͑ǫ̷̼̜͉̦͙̊̎̓͋͗̃͛̕ͅͅb̶̢̭͈̹͖̖͑̈́͂̀͐Ý̵̡͎̪̞͓̭͈́̆̓̏̐̈́̐ͅQ̷̡͉̭̙̪̼̲̪̩̣̣̻͇͕̼͂̍̀

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he groans. “I want it to stop.”

“I rarely ever hear him when I'm… enjoying myself—outside of when I seek him out intentionally. Stop thinking about him.”

“Are you thinking of another man when I'm inside you?!” I'm right here! How could she think of that vile monster when I, a beautiful, gorgeous, heart-breaking piece of man, am by her side?!

“He's not a man, and no, that's not what I meant. Let's move—”

“Hircine, my pet, I'm all for trying out new things, but bringing your mind-invader into the bedroom is not what I—”

Seemingly had enough, Hircine finds his nipples easily and pulls. Not hard, but it's enough for Astarion's brain to pleasantly shatter, the sting of arousal striking white-hot through every fiber of his being. His limbs turn to jelly, his core is screaming for something to fill him. The lewd moan that slips from his mouth couldn't possibly be contained even if he tried when his eyes slam shut, rocking forward in the hopes that Hircine might do more.

Instead, the traitorous (wo)man leans forward with a frown, releasing her tight hold on those peaks of delight much too early. “How about we move on to what's got you so bothered instead? I can smell the change… it's strange…”

“That's how I, uh, always know you're in the mood.” He's panting. His heart’s pounding. This body is absolutely quivering for more.

How does Hircine keep it together when she responds so wholly with her body?

“Seems like cheating when you can just smell the difference.”

He wipes some drool from the side of his mouth. “That's called a natural advantage, pet. Not my problem that your body just… weeps for me.”

“Do you want to touch yourself or not?”

He all but launches himself into Hircine’s chest, clutching at the curls that frame her beautifully pointed ears. “Please, I need it!” If he can't have his own cock, then the fingers will have to do.

“Alright,” she climbs onto the bed, spreading her legs and patting the spot between, “sit here, back to me.” The robe is thrown to the floor, and panties, which are soaked as expected and he beats down the urge to taste them as he always does, are thrown away before Astarion dives in, situating himself right where she asked. Her cool hands immediately slip between his thighs and pry them open with ease, knees raised and feet planted on their soft bedding. The cool air in the room meets the wetness of his cunt for a very refreshing feeling. That’s nice.

He’s stunned and insanely turned on by the forwardness Hircine is presenting when she is always the one waiting for his command. Being in his body must make her bold.

“To start, your hands, please, Husband.” Both her hands are held up in waiting, her lips close to his ear, speaking in heady, hushed tones that have him fighting the urge to just shove her fingers into his dripping cunt so he can fuck himself silly on them.

Astarion enthusiastically places his hands in Hircine’s, and she guides them to his heaving chest to cup each breast in a hand. “To get started, sometimes I like to squeeze and roll them around,” and they do just that in tandem, gently squeezing the soft, weighty flesh of his tits, admiring how they spill over in his smaller hands. “Harder,” she whispers, digging their fingers in, right on the cusp of too hard. His head falls back, a breathy moan and wiggling hips, his response to the alluring sensation.

This is decadent! He can’t believe Hircine is always so quiet in bed when it feels like this. His cunt continues to clench around nothing, and Astarion can barely wait for more.

“And when that isn’t enough anymore,” she says, shifting her grip to lay his fingertips onto his nipples, “then I know this is what I need.” They brush featherlight over the tightened buds, very gently circling around the areolas and good gods, Astarion wishes he could just come from this and literally nothing else. His tits are alight with the most delightful tingle that trails like fire through his stomach and loins, and this is only his touch, not Hircine’s.

“Can you—Can you do it?” He gasps out, arching his back to rest his head on her strong shoulder and jut his chest out. If he doesn’t get some more stimulation, he might explode.

“Oh, my poor, needy Husband… You want me to touch you?” She coos.

“Fuck—Please, I need it, Hircine!” He demands, rocking back against her, looking down to relish in the way his tits bounce with the action. Finding it within herself to be gracious, Hircine cups his breasts now, thumb and forefingers pinching over his pale nipples to twist them around. His thighs slap together when he moans loud and long and desperate, struggling to comprehend how amazing it feels with her hands on him now. She could probably rip his nipples right off and it would still be one of the best experiences to date.

She hums, a thoughtful noise that rumbles through her throat, and he can hear the smile in her voice when she speaks next. “I don’t think we play with our ears enough…” A wet tongue snakes along the shell of his ear, shockingly tender and sensitive, and Astarion’s breath hitches. Between the ear licking and the nipple touching, it’s all so much, so perfect, so good.

And then Hircine pushes his breasts up towards their faces, releasing him so they bounce back into place. “Do it to yourself some more.” She commands, not all that stern in case he were to reject such a thing. As if. Following instructions like the good husband he is, Astarion returns his hands to where they belong, missing Hircine’s touch, but loving his own all the same.

While he appreciates how much Hircine is getting into this, Astarion is stunned that she is noticeably not hard against his back. How?!

Oh, well. His pleasure is the most important right now.

Pinching, pulling, rolling, with this body reacting by clenching, yearning, throbbing… A frantic energy is building up within him, but with his touch on his breasts only, he knows there will be no reaching the brink of satisfaction.

As usual, Hircine’s timing is good, or maybe she knows her body well enough to understand that this kind of play would not be enough. Her fingers tickle down his flat stomach and he watches at it involuntarily clenches at the funny feeling. She then stops right at the apex of his sex, drumming against the pubic bone.

“Hmm, do you want to tease or shall I?” She asks and Astarion’s heart flutters.

“You.” His desperate response is instantaneous. Why would she ever ask when she knows it’s so much better that she do it?

One hands scoops up a breast, lightly massaging it in a firm grip, but much to his dismay, the nipple is ignored entirely while her other hand pries open his thighs once again, palm and fingers smoothing along the supple flesh of his inner thigh, occasionally circling dangerously close to his lower lips before skirting away to repeat the motion. On his own, he could see how this wouldn’t be all that exciting, but with Hircine’s strong hands initiating, it has him on the verge of begging.

On another lazy pass by his folds, Hircine leaves her hand to rest there, but finally offers some relief from the toying by brushing the thumb on her other hand over a peaked bud, and Astarion realizes he’s been holding his breath for much, much too long, his chest constricting with need until he sucks one in with a gasp as his hips jerk up, eager for Hircine to continue.

Her quiet voice, insistent and urging, reaches him. “Touch yourself, Husband.”

Biting back a moan, Astarion does as he's told, no hesitation, digits sliding down his stomach just as she did before, aiming for that swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves that he knows gets Hircine off so well. The second his fingers make contact, crackling sparks of pleasure jolt through his body, unleashing a debauched gasp that he didn't even know Hircine’s body was capable of.

He’ll take more of that. His fingers slip down further, swirling just outside the hungry mouth of his cunt to coat himself in slick, and that movement is carried back up to the clit, gently rubbing around it for the most glorious sensation. Hircine, not one to sit idly by, turns her attention to his tits, kneading them with fervent affection and pulling on the impossibly, hardened peaks. He’s so breathless as his hips buck, searching for some more friction.

“Oh, fuck, Hircine, it’s so, so good!” He mewls as she tenderly pinches his nipples. “Can-Can I put my fingers inside? Please, I want it so bad!”

He can hear how she licks her lips, letting out a quiet huff of laughter. “Are you going to fuck yourself on your fingers?”

“Yes!”

“Then do it.” She whispers.

Instantly, he sinks his middle finger inside that glorious wet heat, then another follows immediately after because Astarion is craving it so deeply. His cunt grips his fingers as they slide in and out at a slow, cautious pace, reveling in how slick and warm and hot it is. While Astarion is lost in himself, Hircine flicks her fingers across his clit and roughly twists one of his nipples with the other hand, and he is lost to the shock of overwhelming euphoria that burns its way through his body. Her strokes on his clit continue, gentle and sensuous, urging him down a path to a mind-blowing orgasm, the likes he might not have experienced before.

A third finger is added, a comfortable stretch inside him as he seeks out that spot Hircine loves so much and gods, does he want it. The coil is tightening within his belly, and Astarion presses back into Hircine, whining and moaning and gasping, and then—

Hircine stops, stilling all her movements completely.

Astarion is a yearning, flustered mess as he removes his fingers, panting hard when no release comes to ease the overwhelming burn. “Wh-Why did you stop?!”

“It’s not fun if you come so quickly… I like the buildup, personally.” Her cold lips meet his cheek for a loud, smacking kiss that leaves him feeling dissatisfied.

“Tch, I want to come, not play games.” Guess he’ll have to take his pleasure into his own hands if she’s going to be evil.

Wrapping an arm over his tits and covering his clit with her hand, Hircine smiles deviously against him. “No, we’re going slow.”

He scowls, “Is this because I fingered you under the desk while that gnome was asking for an advance payment last week?”

“Hmm, well now that you remind me… Yes. It is.” Hircine nibbles at his ear, fangs scraping against the sensitive skin there so gooseflesh raises across Astarion’s body, and he shivers. Running her fingers down through his puffy folds, she dips into his cunt once, then twice, before stroking the entrance and back up to his clit, teasing gently. “Also, my dear husband, I think it’s only fair that you know what it's like to be played with.”

It’s outright vengeance. Fine, they can play. He opens his slim legs as wide as he can, offering himself up completely for whatever Hircine has planned. Her fingers have warmed up to his body temperature now as she swirls them around, making a mess of his slick all along his cunt lips and thighs, occasionally giving some much needed attention to Astarion’s clit so he whines and squirms at the pleasure that strikes through his nerves.

Touch like this could feel just as good in his own body, but maybe it's the thrill, the strangeness, of being different that has him singing so much for each stroke, swipe and pinch. Hircine is rarely ever interested in self-pleasure unless he asks for a show, so the fact that she’s able to toy with him so well like this, knowing exactly the buttons to push, is a wonderful surprise.

If it’s some advanced level of torture she’s learned or the height of absolute delight, Astarion is brought so close to the edge of oblivion, only to be brought back down again and again… and again, while Hircine whispers sweet nothings and taunts into his ears.

Whether her vengeance has been sated or she just knows he’s had enough, Hircine nuzzles her nose into his neck, trailing up until she murmurs in that decadent and deep voice. “Had enough, Husband?”

“Please.” A whispering plea slips past his lips, chest heaving and sweat clinging to his body as she works him over so thoroughly. Slickened fingers are brought to his mouth, and Astarion opens, keen to taste that nectar he so eagerly feasts on any other night. Musky, salty and sweet, not quite the same as it is when he’s tasting with his own tongue, but delicious all the same. Seeking out her lips, they meet in a slow, heated kiss to share his arousal.

Hircine hums when she breaks away, red eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Different… Interesting. I’ll stop playing with you now.”

He melts into her chest, drawing circles over one of his pale nipples with an index finger, “Oh, thank the gods, I’m rea—Ah!” She buries two fingers inside his cunt before he can finish speaking, curling them up just right to hit that spot inside, while the other hand seeks out the rosy bud at the apex of his sex, rubbing it perfectly between her fingers. Astarion’s been kept mercilessly at the edge of bliss, so these intent ministrations by Hircine shoves him right over.

His eyes screw shut while a choked cry echoes out into their bedroom as he comes, writhing in her arms when shockwaves of his orgasm overtake this body. Stars are seen, breath is trapped in his chest, and his nails dig into his tits while each rippling wave sends him reeling in euphoria. The two stroking fingers inside of his core are constricted as the walls of his cunt pulse in tune with his fluttering heartbeat, ebbing slowly to an occasional twinge as Hircine helps him ride each crest, before it abates fully, and Astarion is left a trembling and limp pile of limbs.

Eventually enveloped in a tight embrace, Hircine holds him close, placing sweet pecks to his temple. “Was that what you wanted?”

He groans and swallows to wet his dry throat, feeling like dropped jelly. “Does… it always feel like that?”

“Sometimes.”

“Fuck, that’s amazing.” Finally some sense is returned to his loose arms and legs, and Astarion curls up against Hircine, feeling purely satisfied. “Thank you, my love.” His eyes are already growing heavy, all the energy drained from his body after that mind-bending orgasm.

Maybe after a short nap, everything will return to normal.

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bodyswap #body swap au #Astarion smut #drow tav #astarion x drow tav #astarion x tav

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zerun0 · 2 days ago

Note

please a Jayvik fic? that would be super cool and awesome sauce so I can pretend s2 didn't happen and they're having fun working as lab partners <3

"For now" — Viktor x Jayce

English is not my first language. Feel free to comment on any of my mistakes and i will update the post, also I more than happy to receive suggestions, and advice on how to improve my work.

— !SFW! — Established relationship, Fluff, Flirting, kissing. — Word count: — 1,9k (Full uncut version on AO3)

The Hextech lab buzzed with the energy of early afternoon. Shafts of sunlight filtered through the high windows, lighting up the chaotic jumble of notes, tools, and half-finished devices strewn across every surface. Jayce and Viktor stood side by side, arms crossed, looking down at the creature sitting proudly on their workbench, a round, fluffy Poro with stubby legs and an unshakable confidence.

“I trust you two implicitly! ”— Heimerdinger declared, his tiny hands clasped behind his back as he beamed up at them. “This little one has a, shall we say, spirit for exploration, when it’s not napping.”

Jayce leaned forward, hands braced on his knees. — “Professor, are you sure you can’t just take it to your meeting? I mean, it’s not like the Council Chamber is a lab full of fragile, priceless equipment.”

“Oh, nonsense!” — Heimerdinger waved his hand dismissively. — “They wouldn’t understand his unique needs. Besides, you’re the perfect duo for the task.” — He gestured between the two of them, eyes twinkling. — “Viktor with his sharp mind, and Jayce with his...big heart. Surely you’ll manage.”

Viktor arched an eyebrow. — “Professor, I am not certain that babysitti-”

“Ah! Not babysitting! Mentoring!” — Heimerdinger corrected. He patted the Poro, which chirped happily. — “He has much to learn about the world, and you’ll provide him with a safe, structured environment.”

The Poro hopped in place, nearly knocking over a flask of shiny blue liquid. Jayce caught it mid-air with quick reflexes, sighing sharply as he set it back down. — “Safe and structured,” — Viktor repeated dryly but in a low tone, unheard.

“Now, I must be off. Don’t let him out of your sight!” — With that, the diminutive professor bustled out, leaving the two young inventors staring at the small, smug creature that now ruled their afternoon.

Jayce straightened, running a hand through his hair. — “Okay, this can’t be that hard. He’s just a little…fluffy thing. How much trouble can he cause?”

The Poro tilted its head innocently before leaping off the table and darting into the maze of equipment.

“Right,” — Viktor muttered, already reaching for his cane to follow.

— Half an hour later, the lab looked like a storm had hit it.

“Where did he go this time?” — Jayce asked, hands on his hips. “Under the shelf,” — Viktor replied, not even looking up from where he was recalibrating a delicate instrument.

Jayce knelt down, peering into the shadows. — “Come on, little guy,” — he coaxed, waving the brightly colored toy Heimerdinger had left. The Poro eyed him warily, a small item clamped in its teeth.

“Don’t chew on that!” — Jayce lunged, but the Poro darted out of reach, bounding across the lab and knocking over a stack of schematics.

“Jayce,” — Viktor said calmly, — “please do not let him destroy everything we have worked on in the past three weeks.”

Jayce groaned, gathering up the scattered pages. — “Why does it like chewing on stuff so much? What does Heimerdinger even feed it?”

“Chaos, apparently,”— Viktor replied, glancing toward the Poro as it hopped onto one of the tables. It sniffed at a set of neatly arranged tools before pawing at them — “He must be bored. Perhaps we should entertain him?”

Jayce stared at him. — “Entertain? Viktor, it’s a Poro, not a toddler.”

“Clearly, you have never babysat before.” — Viktor sighed and set down his tools. He approached the Poro. With surprising gentleness, he reached out, holding the toy at the perfect angle to catch the creature’s attention.

The Poro sniffed it, intrigued, before pouncing.

“See?” — Viktor said, holding the Poro in place with one hand while it gnawed happily on the toy. — “It is not so difficult.”

Jayce folded his arms, watching with a surprised smile. — “You’re good at this. I guess all those late nights in the lab have taught you patience.”

“Or perhaps I am simply better at adapting than you.” — Viktor’s smirk was subtle, but it lingered.

Jayce chuckled. — “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Immensely.” — Viktor replied.

They stood in silence for a moment, Viktor holding the Poro steady while Jayce leaned against the table, watching the two of them. The afternoon sunlight caught in Viktor’s pale features, highlighting the sharp angles of his face and the focused intensity of his eyes.

“You know,” — Jayce began, his voice quieter, — “you’re always surprising me.”

Viktor glanced at him, eyebrow raised. — “Am I?”

“Yeah. Like,” — He paused for a second — “I didn’t think you’d be the kind of person who’s good with animals. But… you are.”

“Hmm.” — Viktor considered this for a moment before returning his attention to the Poro. — “I suppose I have an affinity for difficult creatures.”

Jayce laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. — “Are you calling me a difficult creature?”

“Do you require constant supervision and occasionally eat things you should not?” — Viktor shot him a sidelong glance.

Jayce held up his hands in mock surrender. — “Okay, fair-”

The Poro squeaked suddenly, leaping from Viktor’s hands and bounding toward another set of delicate instruments.

“Not again,” — Viktor sighed, already moving to intercept. Jayce followed, their shoulders brushing as they reached the table at the same time. Viktor’s hand caught the Poro, and Jayce steadied the precarious setup of tools.

For a moment, they were close, closer than usual. The Poro squirmed between them, but neither moved.

“Jayce,” — Viktor said quietly, his tone neutral but his gaze intent. — “You are staring again.”

Jayce blinked, caught off guard by Viktor’s observation. The air between them felt heavier now. He straightened awkwardly, still holding the resistor, and glanced away.

“I, uh… wasn’t staring,” — Jayce said, his voice not quite as confident as usual.

Viktor’s expression softened just a fraction, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. He leaned back slightly, shifting his weight onto his prosthetic as his golden eyes lingered on Jayce.

“You are a terrible liar,” — Viktor replied, his voice quieter now, almost teasing.

Jayce exhaled a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. — “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just too good at reading people.”

“That is possible,” — Viktor admitted, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. He tilted his head slightly, studying Jayce as if trying to decipher an equation. — “But it is not often you are at a loss for words. I find it…interesting.”

Jayce’s pulse quickened under Viktor’s gaze, and he suddenly felt very warm in the already stuffy lab. — “You’ve got this way of throwing me off balance, you know that?”

Viktor raised an eyebrow. — “And here I thought you were the unshakable one.”

For a moment, silence fell between them, broken only by the faint hum of the outside world and the occasional chirp from the Poro, now happily chewing on its toy on the other side of the room. Jayce hesitated, then took a small step closer.

“Viktor,” — he began, his voice low, — “I don’t know if I’m just imagining this, but…”

“You are not,” — Viktor interrupted, his tone even, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

Jayce’s breath caught. Viktor rarely spoke so plainly, and hearing him admit it sent a rush of heat through Jayce’s chest. Slowly, he reached out, his fingers brushing Viktor’s forearm. Viktor didn’t pull away.

“Are you sure about this?” — Jayce asked, his voice barely above a whisper. — “Am I reading the signs correctly?”

“Yes” — Viktor broke the silence after a few long teasing seconds.

Jayce smiled, his heart pounding as he closed the remaining distance between them. The quiet hum of the lab seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the sound of their breaths, shallow and uneven. He lifted his hand, fingers trembling slightly as he lightly cupped Viktor’s jaw. Viktor’s skin was cool under his touch, his breath hitching in response.

Viktor’s hand hovered uncertainly at Jayce’s waist before finally settling there, his grip hesitant but firm. Jayce felt a shiver run through him at the contact, his chest tightening as he took in the vulnerability in Viktor’s gaze.

Slowly, he leaned in, his thumb brushing along the sharp line of Viktor’s cheekbone. When their lips met, it was tentative at first, as if testing the waters. Viktor tensed briefly, but then he relaxed, leaning into the kiss with a quiet sigh.

Jayce’s hand slid to the back of Viktor’s neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. Viktor’s fingers tightened at Jayce’s waist, drawing him in as if the space between them was unbearable. It was unlike anything Jayce had expected… soft, electric, and somehow grounding all at once.

Viktor’s other hand came up, tentative at first, brushing against Jayce’s chest before resting there. Jayce could feel Viktor’s pulse through his fingertips, quick and unsteady, mirroring his own. Their movements grew less cautious, lips parting as the kiss turned warmer, more urgent.

Jayce’s free hand found Viktor’s waist, his thumb brushing over the fabric of his coat. Viktor responded with a quiet noise in his throat. He pressed closer, feeling the cool edge of Viktor’s prosthetic against his leg, a detail that grounded the moment in reality despite the overwhelming intensity.

“Jayce,” — Viktor murmured against his lips, the sound low and breathless.

“Yeah?” — Jayce replied, his voice rough as he barely pulled back.

Viktor didn’t answer, instead tugging him back into another kiss, hungrier this time. Jayce’s hand slid down to Viktor’s hip, fingers gripping just hard enough to make Viktor’s breath hitch again.

And then—

The door creaked open.

Jayce and Viktor broke apart with the speed of two guilty schoolchildren, Jayce stumbling back into a stool, nearly knocking it over. Viktor turned sharply, his hand darting to adjust the nearest instrument as if he’d been working all along.

“Ah, there you are!” — Heimerdinger’s cheerful voice filled the lab as he bustled in, utterly unaware of the thick air of awkwardness hanging between them.

“I’ve come back for our little friend,” — Heimerdinger continued, oblivious to the tension. — “The council meeting finished ahead of schedule, and I believe it’s time for a walk, and perhaps a treat!”

Jayce cleared his throat, his face burning as he tried to compose himself. — “Oh, uh, great! He’s… been fine. No trouble at all.” — He shot Viktor a quick glance, but Viktor was steadfastly avoiding his gaze, his attention fixed on the tools in front of him.

Heimerdinger crouched down to scoop up the Poro, who chirped happily at the sight of its owner. — “Ah, there you are, my mischievous little friend! I trust you didn’t cause too much chaos?”

The Poro squeaked innocently as it nuzzled against Heimerdinger’s face.

“No chaos,” — Jayce said quickly, flashing a nervous smile.— “Everything was… under control.”

“Splendid!” — Heimerdinger said, cradling the Poro like a prized treasure. He glanced around the lab, seemingly pleased with what he saw. —“And you’ve made excellent progress, I see. Such dedicated young minds, you make me proud!”

“Thank you, Professor,” — Viktor said smoothly, though there was a slight stiffness to his tone.

Heimerdinger didn’t seem to notice. — “Well then, I won’t keep you from your work any longer. You’ve certainly earned some peace and quiet.” — He gave a final, beaming smile before heading toward the door, the Poro perched happily in his arms.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the lab in heavy silence once again.

Jayce exhaled a long breath, running a hand through his hair. —“That was…”

“Fortunate,” — Viktor finished, his voice dry but his cheeks faintly flushed.

Jayce turned to him, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. — “I thought he was never going to leave.”

Before Jayce could say anything else, Viktor leaned in, his lips brushing against Jayce’s in a quick, soft kiss. It was light, almost tentative, but enough to send a jolt of warmth through Jayce’s chest.

When they pulled away, Jayce smiled, his heart racing. —“I think we’re good,” he murmured.

Viktor’s lips curled into a soft smile. — “For now.”

#viktor #viktor arcane #arcane fanfic #jayce talis #jayce x viktor #jayvik

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crystallinekitties · 2 days ago

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hello graha artists and scholars: graha's hair discussion! (partial hc in here)

i simply noticed his braid was thicker and longer in enw than the character creator hair he had in arr so i needed to discuss why.

the arr hair and the exarch hair are the same hair, but for whatever reason the exarch was given a different highlighting pattern than the CC hair, which would make you think the hair model itself would be different but it is not!

arr graha:

a note i didn't make on the image was the fact that because the arr braid is more one whole polygon, i'd say it is more akin to a fishtail braid. how he did a tight fishtail himself, good question, man's dedicated to making his hair much more complicated than it needs to be if his oh-so-cool warrior of light will see it. he makes it tight for bow/arrow retrieving practicality.

(and a personal hc is that he also goes for a braid instead of a ponytail because a braid can be a lot less tension on the scalp/ more evenly distributed tension, being a reliever for his chronic migraines) -- ((im sure i will eventually make a text post just going in depth about all three grahas' disabilities because i feel people see it obviously in the exarch but forget the invisible disabilities enw and arr graha have as well)

moving onto his bangs though, why keep them long if he's a bowman? he says he was bullied for his odd colored eyes, hence he covers the more jarring color with his bangs.

enw graha:

looking at the way his enw braid is sectioned off more and looser makes me think it's a standard three strand braid. it makes sense he's being a bit more practical, he doesn't have time to do a fancy braid but still wants to look nice. he doesn't need to worry about a bow and arrow anymore so he grows his hair out a bit more, likely puts it in a ponytail on lazier days.

he puts his hair into fancy little pins and pushes it from his eyes: this is more a character design choice to show he's opened up more since being a cloistered scholar. he looks wide awake! in universe though (hc) it was absolutely a tataru fashion choice that he adopted.

exarch graha:

now do i think the exarch is doing a fishtail braid in the morning? no not really. i don't think he honestly has the finger dexterity for it in his crystal hand. it's visually the same as the arr braid though, so what? fishtail on days lyna helps him cause he needs to look cute for his warrior -- twist or ponytail any other day. he doesn't need to worry about it being tight or short, i think he just leaves it short because it's easier to manage and stay under a hood.

why keep the bangs long if he's trying to keep his hair from coming out under the hood? that's a good ass hood tbh he's good at keeping it from peeking. but beyond that, i believe it's still his attempt to hide. he covers his eyes so if anyone peeks under the hood they see white hair first, not the blaring red eyes. he's supposed to be a warm and inviting (if not mysterious) figure to his people and to the scions. looking back at arr graha, he covers his red eye because it's jarring, so he continues to cover his eye even after losing the hood to maintain some of that warmness.

ok thanks that's all - add your own HCs i would love to hear them <33333

#ffxiv #g'raha tia #crystal exarch #final fantasy xiv #graha tia #shadowbringers spoilers

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pandapetals · 9 hours ago

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Ruined Surprise & Birthday Trip

Logan tries to buy a gift for your birthday only to have it ruined.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

It was rare for Logan to suggest going into town—usually, he grumbled about crowds and small talk, preferring the solitude of the mansion. So when he’d casually suggested a trip downtown, you’d blinked in surprise, half wondering if you’d misheard him.

“You… want to willingly go into town?” you asked, brows raised.

Logan scowled, crossing his arms. “Yeah, sweetheart. Don’t look so surprised,” he muttered, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

You’d agreed, thrilled at the prospect of visiting the bookstore to check out the new bestsellers. Little did you know, Logan had an ulterior motive. Your birthday was coming up, and Ororo had mentioned a shop downtown that sold dresses. She’d let it slip that the last time you and she had gone shopping, you’d fallen in love with a particular dress—a flowy, deep blue number that you’d admired for a solid ten minutes before putting it back, insisting you didn’t need it since you rarely had a reason to dress up.

Logan remembered the way you’d lit up talking about that dress to Ororo over dinner, and the idea of surprising you with something you truly wanted, well… it stuck with him.

He could already picture your face when you opened the box, how your eyes would go wide and that soft smile he loved so much would spread across your lips. And then, just when you thought the surprise was over, he’d tell you he’d planned a weeklong getaway for the two of you—someplace where you could wear that dress as often as you wanted.

Now, he was standing outside the boutique, hands stuffed in his pockets, feeling more out of place than ever. The storefront was bright and airy, with mannequins dressed in floral prints and pastel colors—decidedly not his territory.

He sucked in a breath and stepped inside, ignoring the immediate urge to turn around and bolt.

The shop was even worse on the inside. Every surface seemed to glitter or shine, racks full of delicate, flowy fabrics that looked like they’d tear just from a hard stare. The walls were painted a cheery pastel pink, and some floral fragrance in the air made him want to sneeze. Logan shifted uncomfortably, glancing around like he was preparing for a sneak attack.

He tried to look casual as he scanned the racks, hunting for the blue dress Ororo had described, but his every move seemed to attract attention. A young, fashionably dressed employee sidled up to him, her expression a mixture of amusement and… something else he didn’t quite like.

“Can I help you, sir?” she asked, her voice lilting with polite curiosity but her eyes betraying a hint of judgment as she took in his rugged clothes, the faded jacket, and usual scowl.

Logan grunted, trying to sound polite, though it didn’t come out quite right. “Just lookin’,” he muttered, shifting his weight and wishing the place had darker lighting or a less floral smell.

The employee’s smile turned tight, and her gaze lingered a bit too long on his worn leather jacket and calloused hands. “Well,” she said, her tone verging on condescending, “we have a few… men’s items by the front if you’re interested. Cologne, wallets, that sort of thing.”

Logan clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to snap back. “Not lookin’ for a wallet,” he replied tersely, eyes narrowing as he scanned the racks once more. “Lookin’ for a dress.”

The employee’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and her smile became a little forced. “Oh… a dress? For, um… someone special?”

“Yeah,” Logan answered, his tone clipped. He spotted a flash of blue fabric on a nearby rack and immediately headed toward it, leaving the employee standing there, blinking after him.

After a bit of searching, he found it—the dress Ororo had mentioned. Soft, elegant, and exactly the shade that would make your eyes stand out. He could practically see you in it, twirling around with that shy smile, maybe laughing at the idea of him picking it out.

He made his way to the register, the dress draped carefully over his arm, ignoring the way the employee’s gaze followed him with barely hidden skepticism. As he reached the counter, he noticed her pulling out a fancy tissue-paper-lined bag, the kind that screamed, look at this overpriced gift.

Logan cleared his throat. “Don’t bother with the bag,” he said, keeping his tone as neutral as he could manage. “I’ll just… uh, I’ll carry it out.”

The employee raised an eyebrow, looking at him like he was the strangest man alive. “You don’t want it wrapped?” she asked, incredulous. “We offer free gift wrapping, and it would probably… well, keep the dress safe.”

Logan shifted, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Nah. Just hand it over,” he insisted, pulling his jacket open slightly. “I’ll, uh, just tuck it in here.” He gestured at the inside of his coat, planning to hide it under the leather so you wouldn’t see it if you wandered out of the bookstore early.

The employee’s look of disbelief turned to outright condescension. “Sir, this is a dress. You… don’t just stuff it in a jacket,” she said, her tone making it clear she thought he had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

Logan’s jaw tightened, irritation flashing in his eyes. “Look, just hand it over,” he said, trying not to snap. “I don’t need a bag. I don’t need tissue paper. Just the damn dress.”

She pursed her lips, clearly unimpressed, but after a moment, she complied, handing it over with a sigh as if she couldn’t believe she was letting him walk out of the store like that. Logan stuffed the dress carefully inside his jacket, folding it as neatly as he could without creasing it too much, and then turned to leave, the employee’s skeptical gaze boring into his back.

As he stepped out onto the street, he exhaled a long breath, relieved to be away from the pastel walls and judgmental stares. He glanced down, making sure the dress was safely tucked away, hidden from view.

Moments later, Logan spotted you coming out of the bookstore, a stack of books piled up in your arms and a contented smile lighting up your face. He felt a little flutter of nerves—something he wasn’t used to—and forced himself to keep a straight face. When you caught sight of him, you grinned, hurrying over.

"Find anything interesting?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you noticed the odd bulge under his jacket.

Logan shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Nah," he said, his tone as casual as he could muster, though he couldn’t quite keep a small, secretive smile from tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Just… picked up a little something. Nothin' important."

Your eyes narrowed playfully. "Is that so?" you replied, clearly suspicious.

Before you could probe further, Logan threw an arm around your shoulder, steering you down the street in the opposite direction. You walked in comfortable silence until you spotted a familiar storefront and came to a sudden halt, eyes lighting up.

"Oh! That boutique!" you exclaimed, pointing to the shop with a glint in your eye. "They had the most amazing dress last time I was here. Let’s go inside—"

"Uh, no!" Logan said quickly, cutting you off with a little too much force, causing you to raise your brows.

"Why not?" you asked, half amused, half curious.

He cleared his throat, searching for an excuse. "I just… it’s not my kinda place, alright? You go on ahead," he added with a smirk, trying to play off his awkwardness.

"Fine," you replied, giving him a skeptical look as you handed over the books. "But you’re holding my books, tough guy. Don’t drop them," you teased, shoving the books into his hands. He let out a reluctant chuckle as he took them, watching you head toward the shop.

As Logan made his way back to his truck to stash the books, you slipped into the boutique, already scanning the racks for the dress you’d admired with Ororo. The shop was just as charming as you remembered, with racks of delicate fabrics and an air of quiet elegance.

You made a beeline for the rack where you’d last seen the dress, quickly scanning for any sign of it before a frown formed on your face. The dress was nowhere to be found.

Puzzled, you approached the counter, where a young employee was restocking a display of scarves. "Excuse me," you began politely, "I was wondering if you still had this blue dress? It was on display a few weeks ago—soft fabric, kind of a deep sapphire color?"

The employee looked up, her expression shifting to one of mild irritation as she sized you up. "Oh, that dress?" she replied, a hint of condescension creeping into her tone. "I’m afraid it’s gone."

You blinked, surprised. "Gone? Already? It’s been here for weeks!"

She gave a dismissive shrug, her lips curling into a slight smirk. "Yeah, some… rugged, gruff guy came in and bought it earlier," she said, her tone implying she found the whole thing bizarre. "Didn’t exactly seem like the type to shop here. Honestly, it was a little strange."

You felt your heart skip a beat, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as realization dawned on you. Logan had bought it. You should have known—his awkward insistence on carrying your books, his weird reluctance to enter the shop… it all made sense now. A warmth spread through your chest, but you tried to keep a straight face.

"Well," you said, your voice tinged with humor as you looked back at the employee, "if you thought he was out of place, you should meet my husband."

Before she could respond, the door chimed, and in strolled Logan, glancing around with a slightly bored expression—until his eyes landed on you. He froze, catching the look on your face, and immediately knew you’d figured it out.

The employee’s face went pale as she connected the dots, watching Logan walk over with a wary expression. "Oh… he’s your… husband?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s eyes flicked to the employee, then back to you, his face breaking into a smirk as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "Everythin’ alright, darlin’?" he asked, his voice rough but warm, laced with a protective edge.

The employee swallowed, clearly flustered now. "I, uh, was just… explaining that the dress… it’s been… sold," she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between you and Logan.

Logan raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable but his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah? I know. Picked it up earlier," he said, glancing at you with a hint of a grin. "Thought it’d make a good birthday present for my wife here."

You felt a surge of affection as he spoke, and you shot the employee a polite but pointed smile. "See? Guess that gruff, rugged guy had pretty good taste after all," you said lightly, squeezing Logan’s arm.

The employee managed a tight smile, clearly embarrassed. "Well… uh, good choice," she mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

Logan gave a small nod, his smirk widening as he looked down at you. "Ready to go, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice softening just enough for you to catch the warmth behind his usual gruffness.

You nodded, barely able to contain your smile as you leaned into him. "More than ready."

As the two of you left the shop, you glanced up at Logan, feeling a rush of warmth. "So," you murmured, once you were a safe distance away, "this was why you wanted to come into town so suddenly?"

Logan shrugged, looking a little sheepish but trying to play it cool. "Might’ve been," he muttered, glancing away. "Figured you deserved somethin’ nice."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, slipping your arm around his waist as the two of you strolled down the street together. "You know," you teased, giving him a sidelong glance, "for a 'gruff, rugged guy,' you’re pretty damn thoughtful."

Logan huffed, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he pulled you closer, pressing a warm, lingering kiss to your temple. "Yeah, well," he murmured, his voice gruff but soft, "I guess since the surprise is ruined—"

"Nope! Not ruined," you cut him off, shaking your head with a mischievous grin. "In fact, I’m gonna totally forget that you bought me the dress. I’ll just act completely surprised on my birthday." You paused, looking up at him with an exaggerated, innocent expression. "See? What dress? I don’t remember a dress. Are we talking about a dress?"

Logan chuckled, rolling his eyes. "You’re ridiculous," he muttered, but his arm tightened around your shoulders, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Maybe," you replied, grinning up at him. "But you love it."

He let out a soft sigh, as though he was trying to sound exasperated, but his gaze was soft as he looked down at you. "Guess I do," he admitted, brushing a thumb along your jaw before leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

When he pulled back, his expression turned mock-serious, though his eyes were still twinkling. "Just remember," he said, tapping your nose gently, "when you open that dress, I expect full-on shock, maybe even a tear or two."

You laughed, nodding solemnly. "Oh, I’ll deliver. You’ll be convinced I had no idea. I’ll even throw in a dramatic gasp for extra points."

Logan smirked, shaking his head. "I don’t know what I got myself into with you," he murmured, but there was nothing but love in his eyes as he said it.

────୨ৎ────

Logan had to give you credit—you’d really leaned into the performance when you opened his gift, letting out a dramatic gasp and grinning as you picked up the dress you’d already knew he’d bought. Your fingers traced over the soft fabric, your face lighting up as if it were the first time you’d seen it.

"Oh my God, Logan!" you exclaimed, holding it up and admiring it. "It’s perfect. Thank you."

He chuckled, clearly amused by your theatrics, but there was warmth in his gaze. "Of course, sweetheart," he murmured, pulling you into his arms. "I’d say it was worth dealin’ with that boutique just to see that smile."

You wrapped your arms around him, snuggling into his chest. "You're the best, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, though you could hear the affection behind his gruff tone. He pulled back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Now, how about you try it on for me?"

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you swatted his chest. "Later, tough guy. I still have some dignity."

"Do you now?" he teased, raising an eyebrow. Before you could reply, he tilted his head and gave you a look. "Didn’t notice the card, did ya?"

You looked up at him, puzzled. "A card?"

"Check the box," he said, crossing his arms with that knowing grin of his.

Curious, you reached back into the gift box, your fingers brushing over the tissue paper until you felt a small envelope tucked beneath the layers. You pulled it out, glancing up at him with a questioning look as you opened it. Inside was a handwritten note:

"Pack your bags, sweetheart. We’re headin’ out for a week. Just you, me, and a place that I think you’ll love."

You blinked, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Wait… a week? You’re taking me somewhere? Where are we going?"

Logan’s smirk softened into a genuine smile. "It’s a surprise," he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "But let’s just say… it’s a place for bookworms. Figured you’d appreciate it."

The next morning, Logan packed up the truck and you hit the road, driving for hours until you arrived at a quiet, picturesque town nestled by a shimmering lake. The town was like something out of a novel—narrow, cobblestone streets lined with charming bookstores, cozy cafes, and tiny shops selling everything from handmade journals to vintage novels. You felt like you’d stepped into another world.

"Welcome to your personal literary paradise," Logan said, his voice low and warm as he helped you out of the truck.

Your eyes lit up as you took in the view. "Logan, this place is… it’s perfect."

He shrugged, though you could see the pride in his eyes. "Figured you might like it."

After settling into a quaint little inn overlooking the lake, Logan handed you a brochure he’d picked up in town. "Turns out they got all sorts of book-related tours here," he said, sounding only slightly amused. "One’s a walking tour of spots that supposedly inspired some big-shot authors. Figured we could do that if you’re interested."

"I love it," you said, grinning as you flipped through the brochure, the excitement bubbling up in your chest. "I can’t believe you planned all this."

He chuckled, sliding an arm around your shoulders. "Can’t have you thinkin’ I don’t listen when you go on about books, sweetheart."

The next few days were a dream. You spent hours wandering through rows of rare books, getting lost in cozy bookstores, and sipping coffee in quaint little cafes while Logan watched you with that soft, steady gaze of his. In the evenings, you’d return to the inn, where he’d build a fire and sit with you on the balcony, the lake shimmering under the moonlight.

On your last night, Logan took you to a quiet spot by the lake. The stars were out in full force, reflecting off the water, and you couldn’t help but sigh as you looked up at the sky. "This feels like something out of a novel," you murmured, leaning into his side.

Logan chuckled, pulling you closer. "Yeah, well, you’re the one who keeps sayin’ life’s better with a little drama and romance," he teased. "Figured I’d give you the full experience."

You looked up at him with a grin. "If we’re talking romance novels, then you’re definitely the brooding, mysterious hero. The one with the tragic past and the soft heart under all the gruffness."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Oh, is that so?"

"Absolutely." You nodded, feigning a serious expression. "You know, when I first met you I thought, Yep, that’s the hero from Chapter One. Rough around the edges, but with a heart of gold."

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "You thought that, huh?"

"Yep," you said, leaning in closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Over time, you proved it to me even though it took some time for you to warm up to me.”

He let out a soft chuckle, but there was a tenderness in his eyes as he looked down at you. “Good thing I did,” he murmured, brushing his fingers along your cheek. "Or I’d missed out on the best thing ever happening to me.”

Your smile softened, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss under the starlit sky. "Thank you, Logan," you whispered against his lips. "For everything."

"Anything for you, darlin’," he replied, his voice barely more than a murmur. "Happy birthday."

#logan howlett #wolverine #x men logan #x men wolverine #logan howlett x you #james logan howlett #logan x reader #fluff #marvel #hugh jackman #logan howlett fluff #professor logan #professor reader #professor howlett #logan wolverine #james howlett #the wolverine

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dissapointu · 3 days ago

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Drabbles: Arcane Characters with an ADHD and Restless S/O

Jinx

“Why are we just sitting here?” you whine, bouncing your leg so hard the table shakes.

Jinx laughs, popping a piece of candy into her mouth. “Because I’m thinking, duh. Gotta brainstorm the perfect chaos plan.”

You groan, standing to pace the room, your hands twitching at your sides. “I can’t just sit here. I need to do something.”

“Okay, okay, calm down, Spazzy,” Jinx teases, jumping up to grab a sketchpad. “Wanna help me draw up some schematics? You get to pick the colors.”

The offer immediately distracts you, and you perk up. “Yes!”

Jinx grins, ruffling your hair. “Knew that’d get you. Now come here and help me blow some minds—literally.”

Vi watches as you dart around the apartment, starting one task only to abandon it halfway through. Dishes in the sink, laundry on the couch, and a book left open on the coffee table.

“Babe,” she calls, “you wanna, I dunno, pick one thing?”

“I tried!” you shout, throwing your hands up. “But there’s so much to do, and my brain won’t focus, and—”

Vi strides over, wrapping her arms around you from behind. “Alright, let’s do it together,” she says, her chin resting on your shoulder. “One thing at a time. I’ll even race you.”

That catches your attention. “You’re on.”

“Good,” she says with a smirk. “Loser buys dinner.”

Sevika

Sevika’s brow furrows as she watches you tap your fingers against the bar counter, your restless energy practically vibrating off you.

“What’s got you wound up?” she asks, her voice steady and calm.

“I don’t know,” you admit, groaning. “I just feel like I need to move.”

Sevika gestures toward the corner of the bar where her punching bag hangs. “Go let it out on that.”

Your eyes light up, and you’re halfway there before turning back. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Sevika says with a smirk. “Better the bag than my patience.”

You laugh, already throwing punches at the bag. Behind you, Sevika watches, shaking her head fondly.

Silco

The sound of your pacing echoes in Silco’s office as he reviews documents. He doesn’t even look up, simply gesturing toward the empty chair across from him.

“Sit,” he commands softly.

“I can’t!” you exclaim, throwing your hands in the air. “I feel like I’m gonna crawl out of my skin.”

Silco sighs, finally setting his pen down. “Then come here.”

You hesitate but approach his desk. Silco pulls a small puzzle box from a drawer, sliding it toward you. “Something to occupy your hands,” he says.

You take it, your fingers immediately working at the intricate mechanisms. Silco smirks as the sound of your pacing fades.

Vander

Vander leans against the counter, watching you bounce from task to task in the bar. You wipe a table, straighten a chair, and then dart behind the counter to rearrange glasses.

“You ever stop?” he teases, his deep voice pulling you from your whirlwind.

You shrug. “If I stop, I might explode.”

He chuckles, grabbing your wrist gently. “Come here.”

Vander pulls you into a firm embrace, his arms grounding you. “Take a breath,” he says, his voice low. “You don’t have to do it all at once.”

You sigh, leaning into him. “Thanks, Vander.”

“Anytime, love,” he murmurs.

Ekko

Ekko grins as you bounce on your toes, your energy palpable. “You’re like a human hummingbird,” he jokes, tossing you a wrench.

“What’s this for?” you ask, catching it mid-air.

“Help me fix this bike,” he says. “Something to keep your hands busy.”

You beam, immediately diving into the task. Ekko works beside you, occasionally nudging you with his elbow. “You’re a natural at this,” he says, watching as you tighten a bolt.

The compliment makes you pause, a smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks, Ekko.”

“No problem,” he says with a wink. “Now let’s see if we can finish before sunset.”

Jayce

Jayce looks up from his blueprint as you pace the lab, your movements quick and erratic.

“Hey,” he calls, holding up a small gadget. “Wanna help me test this?”

Your eyes light up. “What is it?”

“A stabilization device,” he explains, handing it to you. “If it works, it should keep you steady. If not…”

You grin, already fiddling with the controls. “If not, it’ll be fun to watch me try.”

Jayce laughs, leaning back in his chair. “That’s the spirit.”

Viktor

Viktor glances up from his desk as you tap your foot relentlessly, the sound filling the quiet lab.

“Would you like to take a walk?” he asks, his voice gentle.

You blink at him. “What?”

“A walk,” he repeats. “You clearly need to move, and I could use the fresh air.”

You grin, practically dragging him toward the door. “You’re the best, Viktor.”

He chuckles, leaning on his cane as he follows. “I’ll remind you of that when you wear me out.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn sets her book down, watching as you fidget with the edge of your shirt. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, shifting in your seat. “I just feel… antsy.”

She stands, holding out her hand. “Come with me.”

You take it, letting her lead you to the kitchen. Caitlyn grabs a bag of flour and sets it on the counter. “We’re baking.”

Your confusion melts into excitement. “Really?”

“Really,” she says with a smile. “Something to keep you busy—and we get dessert out of it.”

#x reader #drabble #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #arcane headcanon #arcane vi #ekko arcane #arcane jayce #vi arcane #jinx arcane #arcane caitlyn #arcane #arcane silco

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tinybeetiny · 1 day ago

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Bought by Ateez

Please understand this is satire and a joke. Please don't take this seriously, and don't come in my messages telling me how cringey this is BECAUSE I KNOW…. I was feeling sentimental and was reminiscing about my 2012-2015 years…. If you think this is cringey… that’s the whole point. I literally cringed the entire time writing this, but that’s the fun of it. Anyway!!

Cw: CRINGE, HUMAN TRAFFICKING BECAUSE THATS EXACTLY WHAT THIS IS AND WHY DID WE ROMANTICIZE IT AS 13 YEAR OLDS… I cannot lie though…. I was so obsessed with those kidnapped by one direction fics on Wattpad… maybe that’s why I’m so into yandere…

Taglist (I'm so sorry): @e3ellie @yoonshiiu If you would like to be a part of the taglist please fill out this form

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

(Y/n) woke up to the sound her alarm going off. She sat up in her very small twin bed that was in her shoe closet sized room. She stretches her tiny arms as she yawns. “(Y/N) GET DOWN HERE NOW YOU USELESS EXCUSE OF A DAUGHER” she heard mother call for her. She hopped out of bed to throw her long brown hair into a perfect messy bun, threw on the only pair of pants she had which were her light wash ripped skinny jeans and pulled her cream colored sweater on. When she got down the stairs she saw eight men she’s never seen before. Each man stared at her taken aback by her beauty. ‘How could a mother want to sell a daughter so beautiful?’ They all collectively thought “(y/n) you poor excuse for a child. I’m selling you to Ateez because I need more money for drugs.” Her mother spits as she grabs the poor girls arm and throws her to the gentlemen in front of them “B-but why?” The girl felt tears in her eyes “I just told you. I want more money for drugs and I never wanted you anyways. I was just waiting for the day I could get rid of you” The men felt their blood boiling at the words of her mother was spewing out. “Okay that’s enough. We gave you the money already. We’ll be going now” the shortest the eight says sternly to her mother before grabbing her hand gently “Why don’t we go pack your clothes and stuff” he says more gently “I uh I don’t have anything else” she says looking down ashamed. The men sigh feeling bad for what she’s had to go through “OH! Let’s go shopping!” “Oh! Wooyoung had a good idea for once” “Jongho be nice” she watches the grown men bicker amongst themselves. The one holding her hand speaks up “Let’s go and get you some new clothes jagi” she can’t help blush at the nickname.

(Y/n) didn’t know how to feel. A big part of her was very happy she didn’t have to live with that vile woman anymore but now she’ll have to live with eight strange men each one looking like they just stepped out of a GQ magazine. She noticed the glares she got as she walked around the mall with them and she couldn’t help but feel insecure “Are you okay?” She looked over to see the kindest eyes she’d ever seen “Um this just all feels so w-weird” she stutters out “I totally understand! But things can only get from here, right? I’m Seonghwa but you can call me Hwa” "OH MY GOSH GUYS! We never introduced ourselves. I'm Wooyoung, the sexy one" He says sending her a wink "I'm Mingi" "Jongho" "Yunho" "I'm San" "Hi I'm Yeosang" "And I'm Hongjoong" The short one says with a smile. She looked around already forgetting who was who, except Hongjoong "There's so many of you" "It's okay sweetheart, you'll learn very quickly" The group continued to walk through the mall and (y/n) thought that maybe this won't be so bad

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez kim hongjoong #ateez park seonghwa #ateez jeong yunho #ateez kang yeosang #ateez choi san #ateez song mingi #ateez jung wooyoung #ateez choi jongho #the amount of times i cringed #if only you could see my face as I write this

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vithir · 3 days ago

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Jegulus backstageroom

In which Regulus is at James, Sirius, Mary, Marlene and Peters concert to support Dorlen's relationship, but it becomes clear he's also drawn by a deeper reason: watching James Potter perform.

James and Regulus "first real meeting" in Bright Water chapter 8 on AO3 by AstronomyAddict

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Regulus was still feeling the aftermath of the concert when Dorcas began to pull him toward the small backstage area along with Barty, Evan, and Pandora. She had made it very clear that he didn't need to come along. He had told her that he would do it for her and Marlene. That hadn't been the whole truth. For it wasn't just about supporting a friend for Regulus; it was also about watching James stand on a stage and sing with all his soul. No matter how much he tried to deny it, James hadn't disappointed him. Shortly after Dorcas had told them all about Marlene, Evan realized that they had gone to school with her. It irritated Regulus that he hadn't noticed it when he saw the name Marlene McKinnon. She had been a year ahead of them and had been one of Sirius’s friends. So, of the four of them (Barty, Pandora, Evan, and Regulus), it should have been Regulus who noticed it. After all, he was the one who knew the most about Sirius’s friend group. The noise from the concert still hung in the air, and the light from the stage, seeping in through the heavy curtains, cast faint flashes of color across the room.

Marlene was leaning against the wall, still with her guitar slung loosely over her shoulder. Her blonde hair was a bit tousled after the concert, and the pink tips caught the light in a way that almost made them glow. When her eyes met Dorcas’s, they were filled with a warmth that could ignite a fire. She approached them with an enthusiasm bubbling with happiness. She smiled and wrapped an arm around Dorcas’s waist, pulling her close.

“All right, everyone,” Dorcas announced a bit nervously. Regulus didn’t like that they were making her nervous. She deserved to be happy, and she shouldn’t doubt their support. “This is Marlene! Marlene, this is Evan, Barty, Pandora, and Regulus.”

Regulus gave her an approving nod as the others issued a small chorus of “hi” and “hello.” Pandora tried to start a conversation, but it quickly fizzled out. They all stood in awkward silence. It wasn’t like Barty to be quiet like that. He usually chatted away about everything under the sun, but now he was silent. Marlene, desperate to break the silence, turned to Regulus. She stared at him with a raised chin and a challenging glint in her eye, and Regulus wasn’t quite sure how to react. But he was Regulus Black, and he had no intention of letting a simple girl take control. So he held her gaze, with a haughty expression on his face.

“You’re Dorcas’s best friend,” Marlene said. How clever she was.

“Good, now you know who will break all your bones if you break Dorcas’s heart.”

Dorcas gasped. “Reg! Don’t threaten her.”

Regulus shrugged, still fixated on Marlene. “It’s not a threat,” he replied calmly. “It’s a promise.” His voice was flat, but there was a seriousness behind the words that made Marlene’s smile falter for a moment.

However, Marlene wasn’t easily scared. Her smile quickly returned, crooked and confident. “I don’t intend to hurt her,” she said with a confidence that revealed she wasn’t a stranger to such confrontations. “But it’s good to know where we stand.”

Marlene cast a quick glance at Dorcas, seeing her relief that she wasn’t too upset by Regulus’s remark. “He seems to have your back. I like him. It’s funny to see how people react when you challenge them a bit.”

Dorcas chuckled softly and shook her head.

Marlene turned her gaze back to Regulus.

“Well, now I know you’re not easily intimidated,” she said with a smile that was both crooked and welcoming. “That’s a good start. I’m glad you’re willing to get to know me, even though I might not fit into your comfort zone.”

Regulus couldn’t help but smile a little. “So, it seems we both like a challenge. I must admit, you’re quite brave for someone who’s only just been introduced to me.”

Marlene laughed. “And you seem like someone who’s pretty good at keeping people on their toes. That must be a useful skill to have. What else do you do when you’re not standing around threatening people with broken bones?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow and thought for a moment before replying. “Well, I usually avoid having boring conversations, so I have a rule that I only engage in conversations where you can get a free trial course in stand-up comedy. It’s a good way to keep things interesting.”

Marlene laughed, and Regulus found her reaction to be a funny and refreshing contrast to his own expectations.

“I like your approach,” Marlene said with a smile. “Maybe you should consider taking your rule to the next level and start your own comedy club. I would definitely stop by.”

Regulus laughed and nodded. “Maybe I should. Or maybe I should just figure out how to avoid boring conversations with you. That could be a fun challenge.”

Marlene laughed again, and the atmosphere became lighter. It was clear that she had a knack for making people feel comfortable and relaxed, and Regulus found himself in a better mood.

Barty, who was known for his wild personality, chimed in with a crooked smile.

“So, Marlene, how was it playing in front of such a large audience? I have to admit, I’m a bit curious about what it feels like to be on stage with so much energy.”

Marlene laughed and sat down next to Barty. “It’s a very special feeling. You can almost feel the energy of the audience, and it gives you such an adrenaline rush. But it also requires a lot of preparation and focus. What about you? What do you do in your free time?”

Pandora, who had become a bit nervous over the earlier awkward silence, spoke up. “I’m a designer myself, so I spend a lot of time experimenting. Otherwise, we usually hang out together and come up with crazy things. What about you, Marlene? What do you do when you’re not on stage?”

Marlene smiled. “I love making music, but I also have a passion for painting. It’s my way of relaxing. I find it very calming to paint with Sirius, our bassist.”

Regulus froze at the sound of his brother’s name, but no one noticed, and the conversation continued.

Barty, who always had a comment ready, looked at Marlene with a gleam in his eye.

“Painting? I like it. I imagine your paintings must be as colorful as your hair.”

Marlene laughed. “You’re right. I like to use a lot of colors and create something that really grabs people’s attention. What about you, Barty? What’s your hidden talent?”

Barty laughed. “Hidden talent? I’m actually a master at baking cookies. It’s not something you’d necessarily expect, but I make the best cookies.”

Evan, who had been listening with interest, added, “I think it would be fun to organize a baking competition one day. Barty, I think you could face some competition.”

Marlene turned to Regulus, who was still standing a little apart. There was something in her gaze that revealed… something. She met his eyes directly, without wavering, and Regulus couldn’t help but notice the warmth and humor she radiated. In his thoughts, he acknowledged her ability to stand up for herself and the energy she brought to the conversation.

“What about you, Regulus? What do you do when you’re not hanging out with your friends? I’ve heard you’re a bit of a loner.”

Regulus raised his eyebrows but let a small smile break through. “I have my own interests. It’s not always easy to find time for social gatherings.”

Marlene smiled warmly. “It sounds like you have a lot on your plate. I can understand why you might not always have time to be social. But it’s good to see you here tonight. It means something.”

Regulus’ gaze softened a bit. He appreciated that Marlene wasn’t intimidated by his reserved nature. There was something refreshing about her genuine demeanor that he found hard to resist. He could sense that her energy was something he could respect, even if he was inclined to keep his distance.

“I must admit, it’s not every day I meet someone who’s so open. It’s… refreshing.”

Marlene nodded and looked at the others. “So, now that we’ve all learned a bit about each other, what do you say we meet up with the rest of the band? It would be fun to get the whole group together and maybe grab a drink or two.”

Pandora and Evan nodded eagerly. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” Pandora said. “It would be fun to get to know the band better.”

Barty clapped his hands. “Let’s do it! I’m up for a good evening.”

Regulus didn’t want to. Meeting the band meant seeing Sirius, and that was not something he was ready for. Facing Sirius face-to-face required preparation. He exchanged a knowing look with Dorcas and then said, “I’ll stay here.” He didn’t need to say more, as the others understood him. The reunion of the Black brothers was not to happen tonight, and they respected his choice. Marlene nodded understandingly. “Okay, Regulus. That’s perfectly fine. If you change your mind, you know where to find us.”

With that, Marlene and the others began to leave, while Regulus stayed behind. He watched their disappearing figures. Although he disagreed with her choice of friends—friend—he had to admit that she had a rare kind of courage and charm. Regulus took a deep breath and decided to use the time alone to reflect on how he would handle the rest of the evening. He knew that Marlene would come back to him afterward (Dorcas hadn’t asked yet, but she would as soon as they returned). Regulus settled into one of the sofas and closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh. Watching James play and sing had definitely affected him. The way he sang with his soul made Regulus’s stomach churn. If only—

“Regulus!” a cheerful voice called.

His eyes flew open again.

James Fleamont Potter.

He stood in the doorway the others had disappeared through, with tousled hair and red cheeks. A big grin was plastered on his face. A ridiculously handsome face. Why did he always smile like that?

“Ah, I’ve been looking for you since the concert ended! Marlene said you were out here. I’m glad to see you.” James’s voice was filled with genuine joy, and his smile seemed like a beam of light trying to break through Regulus’s coldness.

Marlene. Maybe Regulus should reconsider if he actually liked her.

Regulus rolled his eyes and tried to appear indifferent. “I’m here to support the two,” he said coldly, making it clear that he wasn’t there to see James. “Not because I necessarily wanted to be here.”

James laughed and walked over to him with a beaming smile. “So you’re saying you’re here out of duty? You know, you could have done it in a more fun way. What if I promise to entertain you instead?” He sat down next to Regulus on the sofa and leaned in a bit closer, so Regulus couldn’t help but feel the warmth of his presence.

Regulus looked at James with a skeptical gaze. “And how do you plan to do that? Tell jokes or something like that?”

James shook his head. “Oh, I don’t necessarily have a plan, but I’ve always had a knack for coming up with something that makes people smile. Or laugh. Or both.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow and leaned back on the sofa. “So, is that your way of being charming? I must admit, I’m a bit disappointed. I was expecting something more than just words.”

James’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned forward. “Call it a challenge, then. If I can’t make you smile, I’ll buy you a drink next time we meet.”

Regulus looked at James with a mix of suspicion and irritation. He wanted 100% James far, far away. “And what if I’m not interested in being entertained?”

James laughed and looked at Regulus with a flirtatious gaze. “Then maybe it’s time you figure out why you’re even here. Is it really just for Dorcas and Marlene, or is there something more?”

A wave of panic hit Regulus. Dorcas hadn’t figured him out, so why did James? Why was James even talking to him? Regulus hadn’t been in contact with his brother for a year, and the same went for James. He had watched a few of their concerts, but he hadn’t spoken to James in three years. Regulus tried to remain cold and sarcastic. “Maybe you should stop psychoanalyzing me. I’m here because I chose to be. I don’t need your speculation.”

James seemed to find Regulus’s reaction entertaining. “You can be as ice-cold as you want, but I have a feeling you actually enjoy the company.” He laughed smoothly and looked Regulus in the eyes. His chocolate-brown eyes stared directly into Regulus’s soul. Beyond the coldness, beyond the facade, beyond the hatred. He saw right through it all.

Regulus felt his face grow warm, and he could feel a heat spreading to his cheeks and down his neck. The red color was obvious against his pale skin. Regulus tried to hide his reaction, but James’s smile only grew wider.

“What are you smiling about?” Regulus said sharply, trying to compose himself.

James’s smile became even more flirtatious. “You actually look pretty cute when you’re embarrassed. I think I’ve hit a nerve.”

Regulus seriously needed to pull himself together! He couldn’t continue like this. James was just a silly boy trying to tease him. He had probably arranged this with Sirius.

Yay, should we tease my little brother now that he’s here?

Yeah, Pads, that sounds like a brilliant idea!

Regulus could clearly see the scenario in his mind, and just the thought made him angry. Who did James think he was? He might be attractive (and Regulus had had a few breakdowns over his godliness), but that didn’t mean he could get away with whatever this was about.

“Fuck off, Potter!” Regulus snarled in a tone most wouldn’t dare to defy.

James hummed a cheerful, bright tone. “I think I’ll stay here. I’m enjoying the company, at least.”

Regulus needed to get out of here. Immediately. He quickly stood up from the sofa and felt the strong absence of James’s warmth. He had the same body temperature as a radiator.

“I don’t think I have anything else to say right now.” He began to walk toward the door as James’s laughter filled the room, and Regulus couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed by his reaction. James’s charming nature had struck something he wasn’t quite ready to confront.

As Regulus left the room, he could hear James shout after him, “I’ll see you later, Regulus! And watch out, I’ll be looking for your next reaction!”

#marauders band au #bright water #fanfic #regulus black #james potter #dorcas meadowes #marlene mckinnon #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #james x regulus #james potter x regulus black #dorlene #dorcas x marlene

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