#and I'd be terrified of them and not ever want them near me

[icouldbeyourprettygirl]

We talked about age gap couples earlier... I can't even tell you how many times we've talked about Lolita-ish situations, older men and younger girls, and now age gap couples (which he's been in previously).

[romcomeon]

Hello can I get headcannons of the brothers reacting to mc turning from a sheep into a human please?Thank you ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

❝ 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐩-𝐢𝐬𝐡 ❞ Ver 1

╰┈➤ LOVE ME DESPITE IT ALL? | HEADCANON POST

question : "Can you just get even more adorable?" AKA demon brothers seeing their beloved sheep... as a human!

requested.by : @tiny-axolotl-things

part.s : demon brothers | triworlds | nondateables

pairing.s : Lucifer x MC, Mammon x MC, Leviathan x MC, Satan x MC, Asmodeus x MC, Beelzebub x MC, Belphegor x MC [all separately]

note : hi hi, thank you for the request!! <33 I apologize how this is shorter than what I wish to go for, but with a prompt already done by many, I could only bring so much to the table ;v;

Welcome to the Devildom, where dreams are your darkest nightmares.

Navigating through the exchange program in stereotypical Anime Hell while being an amnesiac sheep was beyond exhausting. More often or not, you have dreaded at least once the thought of not being able to return to your normal self after this. Yes you did get along with these terrifying all-powerful demons, angels, and a sorcerer and they seem more than enthusiastic about you in your plush wooly form. It's just... you know this isn't you.

And so days passed by. . .

Nearing the end of the exchange program, you all of course exchange small bittersweet moments in preparation for your farewell. Who knows when will be the next time? You wouldn't want to wait for the afterlife. So the day before your departure, as you got up from your bed, did your morning routine [ or not ], and marched forth towards the dining hall, you were greeted by. . .

LUCIFER ; "My... you're quite the sight."

Did you...?

Granted, he's the least surprised among all of them.

He was the one who stumbled upon your paper while selecting for the perfect candidate, so he already had a grasp on what you looked like prior to this program.

That doesn't necessarily mean he was less than surprised.

In fact, Lucifer had to do a double take before glancing over your human-esque form.

You didn't need to know that, however.

Lucifer acts like seeing you as a human was nothing out of the ordinary: perhaps more of as a burden since now you have to quickly adjust to these new conditions while setting in the last days of your stay.

He's quick to notice his brothers' reactions to your new form, as the avatar could feel another migraine forming.

Just what he needed on a Thursday morning.

Though, when you ignore his monotonously disappointed words, and focus on the way he acts around you, got to say...

Lucifer can't deny that he's been wishing for this moment.

With the amount of times you have spent together as a sheep, it's no surprise how the Avatar would get used to your small, more subservient form.

His dearest Zephyr whom he had kissed as a sheep...

And whom he'll do more to as a human.

MAMMON ; "Er- shattap!! It's nuthin'!"

HOLD UP—

Goddamn, who's this beauty right here?

W- yer the human??? Eh.. uh.. ya heard nothing!!

Okay but in all honesty he thought you were some weirdly attractive burglar who snuck into the House of Lamentation at the wrong time.

He was disappointed that he didn't notice that it was YOU at first.

Shock, bafflement, and offence aside— he's hooked.

Man, he's been craving for this moment.

You in your actual human flesh? I mean don't get him wrong he was fine when you were this adorably small sheep and pft- you're just a human now it's the same difference—

Wait.

That means... he can flaunt you now for the whole world to see...

...

Ya better be prepared when the avatar of Greed clings to you like a lovesick puppy. He was given the bragging rights to HIS human.

The GREAT Mammon's human now!

I'd leave it up to you if you're still gonna go by his actions or not [please do].

Sheep or not, Mammon loves you in whatever shape or form. Heck, nine times out of ten that if ya ever asked him the "will you love me if I was a worm?" question — no matter the answer, he would always mean "yes".

He will be missing your much cuter self, though...

He could settle for this.

He WILL settle for this.

[Both forms are equally as lovable in his eyes.]

LEVIATHAN ; "OMGOMGOMGOMG—"

WAHHH ! ! ! ! ! CHAT IS THIS REAL!?!?!

He was right!! He CALLED it!!

You were HOT. Anime and Manga don't lie, the little animal companion is almost ALWAYS some hot-ass human form.

And you really fit the description up to a T!

Any form of denial has got the third born ventilating. Sprinkle in some "What do you mean you're not hot? What is he then? Trash?"

This was the final ending of "Reincarnated as a sheep and ruled over hell with 7 lovers" and he was RESISTING the urge to just point out the many references.

May his father save his heart.

When he sees Mammon get close to you he pulls up the official Human Police card. No no no!! No one's monopolizing his player two right this instant!!

Though in all seriousness, let him take a picture of you. Just a quick snap...

This is totes like meeting an online friend — but also not since you've seen eachother irl for a year— BUT also you haven't done a face reveal until now so there's that—

Cosplay with him, will you? You were already like a cute side-companion for cosplay but.. now? That he gets to see the real you?

If you give him an adorable pout, he has officially short-circuited.

Leviathan.exe has stopped working, please wait.

You're too much for his heart.

SATAN ; "There are a million little things I'd like to tell you."

But he only had time for one.

You, human... have surprised him in many unexpected ways.

Satan had perked up from his booklet, taking in all your appearance.

So THIS was how you looked like. . .

A lot of words are circulating his mind. It's just. . . wow.

You have him enthralled.

Emerald eyes scanned over your body as he thought of over a million words to describe you. It didn't help that your sudden morph was in perfect-sync to the plot-twist of his current read.

Unlike some of the others, he's more respectful with his actions. He would pretend like nothing happened if it caused you discomfort, or he'd give you all his time and attention if you didn't mind.

He loved you as a sheep, but there's just something intimate with seeing his darling as an actual, walking, fleshy, human.

Satan felt embarrassed feeling a rush if emotions over something so... it's undescribable.

He took notice of someone leaving the room, though he couldn't pay attention enough to know who it is. It felt strange. Akin to a live-adaptation of his favourite novel.

But he didn't want to look so confused.

The blonde was trying to make sense of his emotions, though me masks it off with a casual smile.

That's right, we shall stay classy for now... for his kitten's sake.

Or would you still prefer the lamb nickname?

So many questions. . .

ASMODEUS ; "You're just soooo CUTE!! Eek!!"

[ *inhuman squealing* ]

Aren't you JUST the cutest!?!?

If no one stopped him, he's got his hands all over you.

Are those your clothes? Cute! Mind if he dressed you up even better?

He's gawking at your appearance, singing praises towards every itty bitty detail he notices about you.

Hello? Aren't you pretty?? Not as much as he is, duh!! But second place isn't so bad. . .

Asmo puts you up at a pedestal at the sight. He adores you even more.

Picture here!! Picture there!! Pictures everywhere!! Every snapshot in every angle all to just CAPTURE your all too captivating presence.

It doesn't even matter if your hair is messy, glasses need fixing, or whatevs. You got him enchanted and that doesn't even encapsulate the excitement he has.

Better do something before Asmodeus goes to post some of the best shots he's taken— hey!! Your beauty is too picturesque to not be shared!

Hm? Your sheep form? Not to worry!!

Okay but don't be surprised if he dressed you up in sheep-inspired outfits for the first few mini fashion shows he hosts in his room.

Seriously, if it wasn't the near end of your stay he'd do a lot more!!

#supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, aren't we?

Asmo won't stop gushing about you for the next few hours so, well, beware of that.

BEELZEBUB ; "Mm..? Mfmmm.."

So shocked he stopped eating for a few minutes.

No joke. You were a showstopper.

To be honest, you looked more delicious in your sheep form.

Hm? Adorable? No you are equally as adorable.

Beel's more chill with your appearance. Sure, it was a shocker, but he didn't want to cause you discomfort by doting all over you.

He was kind of glad that you're now in a more comfortable form. You wouldn't have to worry over them while being so... short... and stubby... and fluffy... and—

He took note that you were probably getting overwhelmed, so he offered to help.

He wouldn't want you to suffer while getting used to your newer- err- older? form.

Okay but it will take him a while to stop looking at the floor whenever you talk to him. You might be short [or not] but, hey, a reminder that you're at a more reasonable height now.

Beel would also shield you from the peering eyes of his brothers in case you show any sign of discomfort towards all the attention.

Seriously, he's just both captivated and concerned.

However, Beel couldn't help but notice the eerie silence of his twin. He would go over and ask if Belphie was okay.

The latter didn't answer, choosing to just leave the room.

Beel's reaction grow even more worried, looking at Belphie walking away and back at your form.

It was conflicting, to say the least.

BELPHEGOR ; "..." // implied events of lesson 16 [OG]

He's staring.

Really staring. Silently.

Not just in any part of your body, but your neck, specifically.

While to his brothers it was a shocker, but at the same time ethereal sight to see you as you—

— to Belphegor, it felt different. In the demon's eyes he's replaying that very moment.

How your neck had markings. Bruises. All from his own hands during that incident.

It didn't matter if it was only him seeing it, Belphie only felt an unnerving tow of guilt.

Didn't matter how long since that incident been, it's fresh in the Avatar of Sloth's mind like yesterday.

He excuses himself from his brothers, going up in the attic. He was deep in thought, clutching against the pillow.

It was blank. Numbing. You looked just as adorable as he imagined... it drove him mad that it was the same body that he—

Oh?

Belphie perked up at the ding! of his DDD. He swore he had that on silent. Grabbing it, he checked what it was all about.

Asmodeus had already shared your photo to everyone else... [ *sigh* ]

Typical of him.

But as he looked closer in the photo... Huh.

You were more than adorable — a small blush spreading across his cheeks.

All those negativities put aside, he wondered if you were just as warm to cuddle as when you were a sheep.

AS FOR YOU . . .

It took you a long moment to realize, maybe since you're so used in navigating as a sheep that you never really thought much about it.

You could've sworn that you woke up as a sheep, did your routine as a sheep, and got ready as a darn sheep...

Did the magic just poof'd away at this convenient moment? Eh, be glad you still had the clothes you wore prior to this exchange program.

So congrats, human, you finally got your form back.

As a bonus all your memories before the exchange program had also returned — so it was a win-win in your favour. Although, the headache wasn't something you were prepared for.

Still, how does it feel like being stared at by the demon brothers? Watching as they admire your true, human form?

Seeing the soul behind the magic and wool was a breathtaking sight. You basically held them captive for the first few moments.

You still held their attention on a leash until now.

That was then followed by the usual chaotic banter between the brothers, calling dibs on who gets to have you first.

Albeit, you haven't really gotten used to being human now... A year depraved of all familiar senses has made you feel foreign to your own humanity. Furthermore, you have changed a lot in the past year; that couldn't be ignored.

Even your mannerisms still resembles of the sheep. Of their precious lamb that they brought down to the Devildom...

You should probably find a uniform before someone notices that you've been wearing the same garment for a year.

ADDITIONAL A/N: hi hi!! Will do the more formal A/N once I wake up later haha ;v; a bit tired from.going out earlier but I had the sudden urge to finish this. Sorry I had to go to the Lesson 16 route for Belphie- I couldn't imagine it any other way even though I and many others have moved on from it ToT

Might do a Ver 2.0 of this with side characters, or a different way to interpret the prompt haha... lemme know what you think!!

divider/s by @/cafekitsune | artwork by NTT Solmare

[vivwritesfics]

Hungry Like The Wolf

Chapter Twelve

She hadn't seen her best friend, Lando, in years. She didn't run into him the last time she was visiting her father and she doubted she'd see him this time. Things were different now. She wasn't aware of his furry little problem. Just like she wasn't aware of the vampires plaguing the town.

1.7K

Vampire!Oscar x Reader x Werewolf!Lando

Warnings: smut, oral (fem!receiving), hand job, accidently gave Oscar all the power here

Series Masterlist

Feel free to buy me a coffee ��☕

"We need to talk."

It had been three days since Lando started the horny phase, since she and Oscar pinned him to the bed. It hadn't gone much further than that, hadn't had the chance to.

Because her father burst into the room. The three of them jumped away from each other, and Lando had the sense not to let out a little whine. Toto stared at them until Lando and Oscar walked out of the room, tails tucked between their legs.

He didn't try to talk to his daughter then, waited until the next morning. When she came down for breakfast that morning, Toto looked to his wife. Susie rolled her eyes at her husband, grabbed Jack and took him out of the room, leaving father and daughter to talk.

"Dad," she began, but Toto held up a finger, silencing her.

She didn't try to talk when he lowered his fingers and laced them together, looking far too intimidating as he stared across the table. "I don't know what's going on between you and those boys," he said, no longer able to meet her eyes. "But I don't want it happening in my house, okay?"

Her brows furrowed. "Would you be saying this if I was just dating one of them?" She asked somewhat sceptically.

Toto laughed. He actually laughed, and she could have murdered him. "Of course not," Toto said. "I'd be saying this no matter how many people you were with. Even if it was just one of those boys, I'd still be saying this."

She let out a breath, letting herself relax in her seat. "So, you don't mind that I'm with the both of them?" She asked, fiddling with her fingers. Her stomach grumbled, but she ignored it, focusing on her dad.

"Mind?" Her dad asked. He let out a little laugh as he shook his head. "I always knew you and that Norris boy would end up together. If you were gonna bring somebody else into the mix, I'm just glad it was Oscar."

The expression on her face could only be called giddy as she dug into her breakfast.

***

For the first time since it started being the three of them, Oscar turned up to her door. Alone. No Lando in sight, Toto realised as he opened the door. He couldn't help but look around for any sign of the other boy his daughter was dating.

"Hey, Mr Wolff," Oscar said, keeping polite. He'd never admit that his girlfriend's father terrified him, stood there with nerves of steel.

"Where's the other one?" Asked Toto. He turned momentarily shouted up the stairs, calling her down. "Or are you taking her to see him?"

Oscar cleared away the tickle in his throat. He wasn't sick, hadn't been sick in damn near a hundred years, but he was so damn nervous now that he was stood in front of Toto Wolff. "Y-yeah," he said, voice breaking ever so slightly. His face flushed with embarrassment. "We're going to see Lando."

Finally, she walked down the stairs, saving him from the undivided attention of her father. Both men faced her as she walked down the steps and slipped her feet into her shoes.

"Hey, Osc," she said, side stepping her father to plant a kiss on Oscar's cold cheek.

He was so damn still as Toto watched the interaction. His fingers itched to touch her waist, to wrap his arms around her and walk her to his car. But he couldn't, not with Toto there.

Saying goodbye to her father, she took Oscar's hand and pulled him over to his car. Oscar knew Toto was still watching, so he made a special effort to open the door for her. Well, he would have done it anyway, but he was hyper aware of what he was doing with Toto watching.

It was only when they began driving that Oscar finally breathed. "Lando's packmate came to my house today," he said as he turned down the next street, heading to the car park just outside of the woods. "I think he's struggling with the horny phase," he said.

Gently, she pried one of his hands away from the steering wheel and placed it on her leg. "That's not gonna be a problem," she said and pulled his hand up, beneath her skirt.

His fingers brushed against warm, wet skin. There wasn't a barrier of fabric to keep them separated. "Holy shit," he whispered, only a little aware that this was the first time he was touching her.

Like his skin was set ablaze, he pulled his hand away. Well, it was either that or crash the car. He pulled into the woodland car park and killed the engine. "Osc," she whispered as she grabbed his hand.

A gentle groan left his lips and he squeezed her fingers. "I think you're trying to kill me," he mumbled, eyes flicking down to her skirts for just a second. "Again."

She pressed a kiss to each of his fingertips. "Let's go and see him," she whispered.

Once out of the car, Oscar led the way. He kept his fingers laced through hers as he pulled her through the woods, towards the pack house. "Osc," she began as they got closer. He didn't miss the anxiety lacing her voice. "It's the full moon for everyone, right? Are they all gonna... be like Lando?"

He shook his head. "Only those that can control themselves are allowed out at the minute," he answered. "Some of the younger ones are like our boy, stuck with the horny, but some have... other emotions. Aggression and stuff like that."

She stepped closer to him. "Relax," Oscar whispered, pressing a kiss to her head as she approached the house. "Nobody is gonna touch you with me around."

The pack house was, essentially, a giant frat house. "Oscar," one of the wolves growled as they approached. These were Lando's family, and she couldn't yet name names. And the same went for Oscar's family.

She looked at the werewolf, and his brown eyes softened. But he focused back on Oscar, and other growl left his lips.

"Carlos." Oscar gave him a quick nod. His hand settled on her back and he pushed her forward, into the house. "I've been here just once before," he confessed in a whisper as he took her up the stairs. "The night that you and Lando fought."

Once they reached his door, Oscar gently knocked. The response that came was a pained whine. A gasp left her lips and she looked at Oscar, eyes panicked. "He sounds hurt."

Lando wasn't hurt, the two of them realised as they pushed their way inside. His eyes were screwed shut as he rutted his near naked hips against the comforter, trying to get some sort of friction. But it wasn't enough.

Tears rolled down his cheeks. He wasn't in pain, he was just horny.

"Look at him," Oscar said to her as he shut the door. "He looks..."

But he couldn't finish that thought as she went striding towards Lando. She took his face in her hands and wiped away his tears. "You okay?" She asked.

Another whine left his lips as he nodded. But then she was kissing him, shutting him up. "What do you need?" Oscar asked, settling behind him. His hand touched Lando's back, trying to provide some sort of comfort.

He sucked in a shuddering breath, his hand settling on top of hers. "You two," he said through a gasp. "I just need you two."

Oscar ran his fingers through Lando's curls. When he tugged, Lando let out a whine, a blissed out smile on his face. "Our girl has something to show you," he whispered.

Immediately, Lando looked to her. She grew shy under his gaze as he reached out to her, fingers grazing the bottom of his skirt. “It's okay,” muttered Oscar as he took her arm and gently pulled her closer. “Lift her skirt, Lando.”

Lando's fingers shook as he pulled her skirt up, revealing himself to her. “Fuck,” he breathed in. “You're goddamn beautiful.”

But then Oscar was grabbing his hand and Lando let go of her skirt. He leaned in close, whispered something in his ear that had Lando nodding so damn eagerly.

“C’mere,” said Oscar. His vampire strength came in incredibly handy as he lifted her onto the bed, positioned her over Lando.

Over his face.

Keeping herself lifted up, she looked desperately at Oscar. “Osc, I-”

But she couldn't say much more than that. Lando grabbed a hold of her thighs and pulled her down onto his face. She gasped pitching forward slightly as he kissed at her folds.

Oscar watched for just a moment. Her whines, his mouth slurping at her. If he finally died in that minute, he would have died happy.

He pulled down Lando's boxers and wrapped his fingers around Lando's cock. The noise that left Lando's lips was damn delicious against her pussy, it had her crying out and gripping his curls. “Fuck, Lando,” she hissed.

Oscar swiped his thumb over the tip, gathering up the precum. “Keep working her, Lan,” he said as he swapped hands, bringing his thumb to her lips. She was more than happy to suck his thumb into her mouth.

Oscar pumped his hand, up and down Lando's length. The way Lando moved his hips was uncontrollable, but Oscar didn't want to hold him back.

Pathetic and desperate noises left her lips as she swivelled her hips. The way she tugged at his hair had Lando hissing, but he loved it.

His entire body stiffened up. Without warning, Lando came, thick ropes of his cup coating Oscar's hand. “God, Lan,” he said, bringing his hand to his own lips. “You taste…”

Suddenly, her hand wrapped around his wrist. She pulled his hand closer and sucked off what she could.

That pushed her over the edge. Head thrown, eyes squeezed shut, she came. Lando licked her through her orgasm, until she was trying to swivel her hips away and Oscar was pulling her away.

He kissed her quickly, sweetly, as he sat her down. And he leaned down to kiss Lando. He ran his tongue over Lando's lips, tasting her. “God,” he gasped as he pulled away. Lando followed, kissing down his neck. “You both taste incredible.”

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[lovemyromance]

You're telling me, if your 23-yr old ass got dunked into a freezing iron crockpot after you were stolen from your bed in your cute lil coquette nightgown and suddenly you were now stripped of your humanity and forced to become a creature you'd been raised to hate your entire life -

And then one of those said creatures - whom you've never met but was standing alongside the ENEMY that was responsible for this trauma - suddenly swoops in and claims you in front of everyone (never mind that you actually have a fiancé whom you loved)-

And then you are suddenly taken from the room and thrust into an unfamiliar world with the only person you know being your sister and kinda these 3 terrifying warriors who you met once or twice-

And on top of all that - you are now assaulted with random images/visuals/sounds/who knows what - that you cannot explain. Are you going crazy? Are you suddenly like schizophrenic? What the fuck is going on? Is this what it's going to be like forever now that you're fae?

Not to mention, now that you're fae, you know your fiancée isn't ever going to be with you now. You lost him, and your human life all in one go. You only have your sister to cling to, and your other sister is god knows where.

That's so much to go through in the span of like a week.

I don't think people are understanding how traumatic that would be to someone. There's nothing worse than the feeling that you're going crazy - like it's some kind of divine punishment. People are always so quick to call Elain Archeron weak or stupid or depressed - as if she didn't just lose everything she knew and cherished basically overnight.

They're so quick to dismiss her wants and needs and trauma and criticize her for not wanting to take help from her "fated mate" - even though that term probably means jack shit to her anyways.

The poor girl was trying to figure out why she was being assaulted with visions and y'all are out here claiming Lucien fixed her by telling them to "take her outside, make sure she gets some fresh air".

Nah, Elain Archeron has the willpower of steel - she fixed her damn self. As soon as she discovered she was a Seer, Miss Girl pulled herself together and started to make use of her newfound powers.

She found the Suriel.

She rammed Truthteller into KoH's neck.

She asked Greyson to turn his manor into a safe haven for the humans.

She refuses to be near Lucien, but is sneaking around with the Spymaster in the dead of night.

Who knows what else she's been doing behind the scenes? Who knows what she has up her sleeves, in that mind of hers?

Out of any possible storyline SJM could write, Elain's is the only one right now that I'd pay to find out about.

[miioouu]

Mean Dad's Best Friend! Ghost pt4

Continuation of this part. 

In which Ghost walks in on you and Price. they make you choose between them. This is a shorter one, more of an introduction for the ending, although suggestive, this part is more aimed to connect the plot :) Tw: smut, age gap, oral (f receiving) Wc: 1.5k 

     He's an unpredictable man. When you were expecting him to scold you, yell and shout at you for choosing another man instead of him, all he did was just ignore your entire existence. No more texts asking you to send him your outfit for the day, no more showing you the pretty pyjama set he's planning on getting you, no more demanding pictures of your fingers stuffing your pretty pussy for him. Nothing, as if he doesn't know you, and somehow that got on your nerves even more. A shouting Ghost is something you expect, you've learned how to deal with by now. A silent Ghost on the other hand, scared you, terrified you even.

      That being said, and he wishes it was the contrary, you weren't that preoccupied with his absence; you have someone else to fuck your pretty mind stupid. John, John, John… The line that creases near his eyes when he smiles so prettily. His long lashes that tickle you when he nibbles your neck. John, John, John… The way he kisses you so gently, as if you were a fragile crystal. The way he holds you close, you can feel his heartbeat against your chest. The way he fucks you, the way he treats you, the way he loves you. John, John, John…the only man on your mind lately, as if Simon never existed.

      But it's too early to say you've moved on, you want to believe that you've moved on, but during your lonely nights, you stare at the bright screen of your phone, hoping that he'd text you again. You scroll through the messages, reliving all those moments. And ugh, why are you so obsessed with him?! But he's not doing better. He too is feeling as if something is missing, and gosh since when did Ghost have feelings, feelings for you? You weren't supposed to mean anything to him, just a cute naive girl who he'd fuck from time to time, someone to keep him entertain. But then again you weren't supposed to leave him for his superior. Your heart eyes belong to him, should be aimed at him and him only. Your pretty smile should've been caused by him. Your shivers were his doing. Your moans were because of his dick. He's going to win you back, no matter what, he'll teach you a lesson.

      Although the military lifestyle should have granted him impeccable timing, when it comes to you, Ghost always had a sense to ruin a moment. 

       Your hands gripped the sheets underneath you, your teeth dug in your bottom lips trying to keep you quiet. “Shhh pretty girl, don't want your dad to find me here, right?” John's voice was as soft as always, as condescending as ever, but it only made you roll your eyes in pleasure. You nodded, your fingers lace in his hair as he nibbled on your inner thighs, slowly moving closer and closer to where you needed him the most. Fluttering, light like feather kisses were left on your clit. Tender and sweet, like cotton candy, he savoured you. His tongue languidly circling your bud of nerves, suckling on it, making your chest heave in pleasure. And his mumbles, his mouth moved against you as he praised you “Pretty girl, everything about you is so sweet hmm?” and “Mmm, never tasted anything better than that” and “Yeah, I'd do that all night if you'd let me”. Who are you to deny him? You barely could respond, your back arching off the bed and your whines were enough answers for him, eager to make you feel on cloud nine over and over again. 

    Sometimes, Price can be rough. He likes to bend you over, put his hand on your mouth as he fucks you from behind, and although he tells you to keep quiet, he's the one who should watch his voice, his grunts are loud and echo in the room. There's no doubt your father knows you have a guest, although he'd never imagine it to be his comrade. And sometimes, he likes to be romantic. He likes to make you feel loved, memorise your body and your sounds, carve you in his mind as if he were Michael Angelo and your pleasure was holy marble. He likes to feel you; rough hands travel across your soft body, the texture of his callouses like electric eels, shock you with intense bliss, it's almost unbearable. 

      And sometimes, just like tonight, John gives you the best of both worlds. His palms are worshipping your thighs as he holds them on his shoulders, right where they belong. His mouth, dirty, spits profanities the way his spit lands on your twitching clit. And he devours you, like a starved animal having its meal for the first time in forever, like a thirsty man having a drop of water for the first time in forever. John Price loves you, there's no doubt about it; he tells you, but he shows it more. The way he places your pillow under your back for comfort. The way he looks at you through his pretty eyelashes, the way he dedicates himself to you, like a goddess that no one can pull him away from. Not moral compass, not rationality, and certainly not the sound of the front door opening and closing quickly, too heavy footsteps to be your father's getting closer to your room.

     It's a horror for two of you, a wish come true for one. The captain couldn't dream of a better way to show your past ‘lover’ that You've moved on. He stickered against your pussy, the vibration would've had you moaning if it weren't for the eye contact you're holding with the masked man standing at your door. You and him both feel like it's a nightmare. You because of the embarrassment, him because someone beat him, because he lost. Although it seems that way, be won't let it happen. He scoffs as he walks in “Seriously… You've replaced me already?” You would've talked back but the hint of hurt in his voice got you raising your eyebrow curiously instead. He cares? Since when? Why does your heart skip a beat? Was it because Ghost showed some emotion for the first time, or was it because Price looked at you defeated?

      He was hopeful. John was hopeful. He wanted to believe that he helped you forget the mean man, that he truly did replace him. But he's not that delusional. He knew that no matter how hard he tried your mind was filled with that ghost. No matter how much he wanted to, he'd never dethrone him in your heart. He huffs and pulls away, his lips glistening with spit and your arousal, his eyes leave yours for a split second to look at his subordinate. “How'd you even get in?” he didn't want to know actually, wasn't curious at all, he just wanted to say something and ease the tension in the air. The younger man just rolls his eyes and walks closer, puts both hands on your knees to close your legs, shooting you a pointed look that screams 'only I can see that part of you'. 

       All three of you are annoyed now, you truly didn't know how to react, or what was even going on with the way they are glaring at each other; something like them communicating secretly, and something is telling you that it's something you don't want to hear.

       “It's my turn.”  Simon breaks the silence, forgetting about keeping you for his eyes only; his hands parting your thighs again and he delved right in. It didn't take long for you to notice his jealousy. From the way he's squinting at you, to the way his teeth are grazing against the hickeys that the captain has left a few minutes ago. Possessive with the way he kisses your inner thighs, then slowly moving to your dripping pussy and he hums. This man hums when he tastes you, his eyes flutter and his grip tightens around you. This mean man, the one you thought didn't care about you, groans like he's eating a Michelin star meal - and for him even that could never compare to your sweetness. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is eating you out as if he's enjoying it, as if he's enjoying you. Shocking, for a man that easily replaced you. 

Although what’s more shocking was the look in his eyes. Yes, possessive and upset, but there’s a hint of something that he’s trying to hide. The captain knows him too well, so well that he let out a chuckle after noticing it; remorse, regret. Feelings the big man would never admit to have, and in reality, he couldn’t even remember the last time he felt his cold heart clench in guilt. “What’s that, lieutenant? You seem…distracted.” The older man comments, wanting to draw the attention to him again. And this is exactly what he got. Whisky golds aimed at him, shot daggers right at him. Simon pulled away, not once looking at you as he hissed, anger too obvious in his tone. “I’m tired of you. Why are you here anyway? Actually don’t answer that.” and his glare is at you again, though, after so long with him you know he’s not actually mad at you, his voice isn’t as condescending as usual. “Come on sweetheart, we’ve told you to make a choice, don’t keep us waiting any longer. If it’s him that you want, just say it, I’ll leave you alone.”

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

Fred Weasley masterlist nav. megalist bth

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️fluff▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

ridiculously in love

together at last

Yn had died years before Fred was even born, she died during her 7th year. So when Fred first sees her he fell in love

too far

Fred has always been the king of pranks, but one day he goes a bit too far, and he Fred spends the rest of the day trying to make it up to you with adorable gestures until you can’t help but forgive him

the kissing booth

a bit down

after a tough day, Fred surprises you with your favorite sweets from Honeydukes and a cuddle session

you’re completely mad, you know that?

y/n(she/her) loves thunderstorms and the rain and always wants to go dance in the rain with Fred, but Fred is terrified of them

it’s okay to be happy, even after everything | p2 | p3 | p4

i like you, and it scares the hell out of me | p2

all of Fred's life he's hated Slytherins and has always said he would never befriend one much less date one, but reader appears and he starts falling for her while denying it and is maybe a bit of an a**hole to reader because he just doesn't believe he could ever like you, but realizes that reader isn't horrible and that not all Slytherins are monsters, and once they're together everyone teases him about how he would say he would never date a Slytherin but now reader is basically the love of his life

well, i suppose we’ll just have to share them

Fred is definitely the type to want his partner to get along with George’s partner

tu sais que je t'aime bien, non? | p2

you should pick where all my rings go

Fred always wears his unusual rings and y/n(she/her) is obsessed with them and like to move them around and play with them when he's not looking. So one day she does it and she moves her favorite ring of his to his ring finger and he's absolutely obsessed with it and won't stop thinking about it

i don’t think i should pick favorites

y/n(she/her) has a crush on her best friend's older brother

i know | p2

Fred falls for Sirius's daughter

seems like deja vu to me | p2

Fred always tries to flirt with her and impress her but she just acts annoyed, just like how James was with Lily

told you I'd keep you warm

y/n(she/her) is always cold in general and especially when she sleeps and one night she's in the twins room and it's too late for her to go back to her common room so she stays and ends up in Fred's bed and he's really warm and after that night she can barely sleep without him

just don’t get us caught

what’s wrong? too shy to look at me now?

just Fred basically teasing short!y/n(she/her)

alright, Weasley, impress me

i like it best when it’s pink

y/n(she/her) is Nymphadora Tonks younger sister and she's also a metamorphmagus and this makes Fred really interested in her

they don’t deserve you, you know

y/n(she/her) came from a family of Gryffindors but she ended up in Slytherin and her family hates her for it, but throughout all her time at Hogwarts Fred has always been there for her

don’t get used to it

i wouldn’t let you get in trouble

i'll be here when you come back

during their firework show, when they leave, Fred quickly stops and goes over to y/n(she/her) and finally admits to how much he loves her

someday

Bill and Fleur are getting married and having their wedding and the entire time all Fred can think about is the wedding being his and y/n(she/her)'s

i love that you draw me

what’s this?

y/n(she/her) has been hiding from Fred that she still sleeps with her lovey stuffed animal

i don’t like sharing

Fred Weasley and slytherin!y/n(she/her) have a secret little situationship going on

there, see? i’m a natural at this

y/n(she/her) gets a new piercing and Fred is helping her clean it and accidentally hits it and hurts her

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️angst���️▪️▪️▪️▪️

you promised, remember?

y/n (she/her) finds Fred after the battle of Hogwarts

second chances

after Fred’s near-death experience in the Battle of Hogwarts, y/n(she/her) struggles with the fear of losing him again

it hurts

Umbridge performs the cruciartus curse on y/n(she/her) to torture her into telling her where her dad, Sirius Black, is

[haeryna]

megumi x reader arranged marriage au but make it the scene from princess monoke where you've got your knife to his throat, except tears are running down your face. you should kill him, and yet as he lays in the grass in front of you, dark blue eyes watch you with nothing but tenderness. as calloused hands reach out to cup your face. nimble fingers smooth away the tears that trickle from your eyes. your hand is shaking. both of you choose to ignore it.

"you're beautiful," he tells you, and the knife drops from your hand harmlessly into the grass of the meadow. you're sitting on his chest, pinning him down. it must hurt by now, and yet his other hand reaches to steady your body, warm assurance resting heavy on your hip.

your trembling hand reaches for the knife again. you know he sees it, but makes no move to stop you. he can see the question in your eyes, fragile and terrified.

"if i were to die at your hands, i can think of no better way to go," he tells you, and as you pull your hands to your face to sob bitterly into them, he sits up. megumi tugs you towards him, tucking your face into the curve of his collarbone as you weep.

"please trust me. i'll take care of you," he promises earnestly. he presses a single tender kiss to your forehead when you gaze tearily up at him.

"i can't," you hiccup. "i-"

"i know," megumi tells you, holding you close, because he does. even through the stubborn anguish, he's never stopped watching. you're beautiful when ichor splatters against the wall from your blade, as red as the blood you manipulate through your veins. you're beautiful when he noticed the pain in your eyes that one time the barista asked for his number in the cafe near the tokyo station. you're beautiful as you demurely wear the kimono your family picked out for you to meet naoya zenin, which clashes fiercely with the hatred in your eyes. at this point he can't tell who you hate more. he hopes it's naoya.

(he thinks of the way he struggled to swallow, to breathe, when he saw you in that kimono. he dreams that you let him take it off you as he kisses every scar on your skin.)

"you can't," you're trying to tell him, saltwater clinging thickly to your eyelashes. "i'd rather die, megumi."

"i know," he repeats, tilting your chin up with his hand so you can see the serious look in his eyes. the zenins wanted to cage you, keep you as a shell of yourself, reduced down nothing more than a mother at best. megumi wants to set you free.

(even if you hate him? even if he'll never be able to tell you he loves you, forever doomed to a loveless union, a marriage only by name and nothing else?)

red ichor. iridescent tears. moonlight, and the dark of night. you are the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. he knows you're the most beautiful thing he'll ever see.

"i know," megumi says, one last time. his heart catches in his throat. selfishly, he pulls you closer, taking in the scent of your perfume, and the shampoo you always insist on buying from kyoto. the moon shines on, and for a moment, he allows himself to wish.

someday, i'll tell you how i truly feel. but for now, please, just stay by my side.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

oooh

If it catches your interest I'd love to see Ordon family getting caught hanging out with a Wolf and trying to get out of the situation without causing a panic.

It was a good thing Rusl was an extremely proficient liar.

Link rarely transformed, but sometimes he would do so to play with Colin. The boy was growing, his kidnapping and time in Kakariko having matured him greatly, and it seemed Link wanted his little brother to still have some childlike fun and joy in his life, so every once in a while the two would go off to train and then end up playing in the woods. More often than not, they’d play wrestle and splash in the sacred spring, but sometimes Link would take his canine form and let Colin ride on his back.

It was harmless, really. Rusl had stumbled upon the pair once while he’d walked through the woods, and he’d played with them both as well.

Today it wasn’t quite so harmless.

Nothing had gone terribly wrong, necessarily. But when Mayor Bo had decided to take a stroll to the sacred spring and inadvertently run into Colin riding a wolf, things had gotten a little more complicated.

Rusl was lingering near Link’s house when he’d heard the yelp of alarm. Mayor Bo’s eyes were wide as he stared at Colin and Link in his wolf form. Rusl’s eldest looked nearly terrified, ears peeled back, posture somewhat submissive but tense, ready to run if needed. Colin was an outright mess, stammering and trying to figure out what he should say or do.

The mayor put a hand to his chest, letting out a heavy sigh. “Spirits, Colin, you scared me to death. What are you even doin’? Where did you get such a massive dog? It looks near like a wolf! That’s dangerous!”

“He’s a wolf hound,” Rusl supplied easily, heart racing, voice calm. “Gift from Princess Zelda, but he mostly prefers being on the edge of the village. Link takes care of him. He doesn’t like people too much outside of us.”

“Ah! Well, that’s too bad, he looks like a cute fella,” Mayor Bo commented, smiling at Colin and Link. “I bet the kids would love him. And Ilia too!”

“Maybe someday,” Rusl offered with little meaning behind it. Whether Link chose to share his secret with anyone was up to him. Although… if he ever decided to pursue something with Ilia…

Rusl wiggled his eyebrows at his canine boy, smirking. “He might take a liking to Ilia, though I’d wait on that.”

Link’s posture relaxed a little, but he let out a boof of protest, sounding nearly exasperated. It took every bit of control Rusl had to not laugh at the teenager. Colin seemed to be calming down as well, his panicked expression morphing into something more akin to mild anxiety.

Rusl took pride in how his words helped settle his boys. He directed his attention back to the mayor, who held a brief conversation with him about the weather before walking back to the village. Colin slid off the wolf, who walked into the spring and shifted back into the boy Rusl knew and loved.

“Sorry, Pa,” Link muttered, cheeks flushed. “I should’ve… I’m usually better at hiding from others.”

Rusl hummed, crossing his arms. “You do need to be more careful, Link. And Colin, that goes for you too - don’t goad your brother into such activities in broad daylight like this.”

His boys looked sufficiently schooled, so he eased off, continuing, “I trust you two practiced sparring today, because I’m fairly certain that if you’ve just been frolickin’ in the woods I can beat both of ya.”

Link and Colin both brightened, the younger eager while the elder smirked competitively. They followed Rusl back to the clearing just outside of Link’s house, quickly grabbing practice swords, and the three sparred into the night, laughter rising into the air. The crisis was blessedly averted, and the day ended with a delicious dinner made by Uli. Rusl smiled at his boys, happy and relieved.

But Spirits, it was a good thing Rusl was an excellent liar.

[galedekarios]

devnotes: gale's last night alive / act ii romance scene

i thought i'd share the dev notes for gale's act ii romance scene here because i find they really add to the scene and the understanding of gale's mindset.

the desciption of the scene from the files reads as follows:

The player has accepted a invitation from Gale's hologram projection to come meet the real Gale at a secluded grove at night. There, they speak about how this may be his last night alive, as they near the heart of the Absolute, where Gale is destined to blow himself up. The player probes his mindset and can try to comfort him. Ultimately the scene may become romantic. Gale may lead the player to a magically-infused sex scene amidst the stars, or the player may determine they should take a more grounded approach.

and the cinematic context node is:

Gale: I love this time of light. node context: wistful

Gale: This may be my last night alive. I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder... and with company to match. cinematicnodecontext: longing look at the player node context: full of longing - Gale: I thought this place might bring me peace. I thought it might make the weight of what I must do feel a little lighter... but I am not so sure. node context: a lot on his mind

Player: Is this truly what you want, to die for the promise of Mystra's forgiveness? Gale: Babe or crone, coward or hero, death is assured. Mystra's forgiveness is not. If you knew the end was near, would you not want to ensure it had meaning? nodecontext: Quiet dignity

Player: It's a heavy burden, yes - but one you're able for. Think of the good your sacrifice will do. Gale: I am trying. Believe me, I am. The path is set, and I will not stray from it - even as my heart quakes. I am terrified - I will not claim otherwise. My face could scarcely conceal it even if my words sought to deny it. nodecontext: Hushed, vulnerable Gale: There is no point in running from the inevitable. Better to meet it, on my own terms. nodecontext: Resigned

Player: Why are you so sure it's inevitable? We haven't even found this 'Heart of the Absolute' yet. Gale: I can feel it - ever since we set foot in this strange, corrupted land. The closer we get, the heavier my own heart becomes. nodecontext: Melancholic, comtemplative

the different branching paths open here for either pursuing the romance path, rejecting it, or choosing the friendship version, before then branching out into the astral sea scene, the more 'mundane' scene, as well as the rejection of gale's invitation:

cinematicnodecontext for the kiss: The player and Gale kiss seated on the ground. It's relatively chaste.

Player: I'm in love with you too. Gale: That's a relief. It would be a shame to spend my final hours making an ass of myself. cinematicnodecontext: relieved chuckle

Player: I don't feel the same way. Gale: I see... well perhaps this is for the best. Should my time be short, you will not be wounded too deeply by my absence. Thank you, for spending this time with me. I think I want to be alone now. nodecontext: quietly crushed

Player: I'd rather not listen to you wallowing in self-pity. Good night, Gale. Gale: A good night indeed. The fairest I can imagine... nodecontext: player gets up to leave. gale sadly looks away from them, returning his attention to the stars.

Gale: Yes... but there is so much to live for, and so few moments in which to house it all. [Approval_AtLeast_30_For_Sp6] Gale: Damn you. Damn you for giving me so much to care about. Our friends, our adventures... this would have been so much easier if it was just me. But it isn't. Gale: If there is a way - any way - to save all that's grown dear to me, I want to seize it. I just cannot fathom what that might be, other than to fail Mystra and condemn the world. Gale: Stay with me, will you? I don't want to think of it any more, but I don't want to be alone either. Player: Stay with him and watch the stars in silence. cinematicnodecontext: The player and Gale silently watch the stars. The scene fades out.

from there on, the different versions of the romance scene can play out:

Player: I hope that wasn't a parting kiss. Gale: Not if I have any say in the matter. Gale: I want it to be perfect - to bond with you in the way that gods do... intertwining our spirits in visions of the Weave. nodecontext: gale stands, a little animated as he describes the possibilities of magic love. the player stands.

Player: Show me. Gale: How about the perfect night in Waterdeep? Yes... Let's imagine how it would be. The scene is this: you and I stand in the room that is the centre of my universe. cinematicnode context:

i love this line personally: this is gale's home and heart of his studies.

it really hammers home the point of what gale is trying to do here, showing the protag all of this, trying to cram as much as he can into this one night he thinks he has left with them.

cinematicnodecontext: Gale pauses, breathing in what illusory seabreeze he may.

i made a gifset a while ago of how deeply gale misses his home and it really struck a chord in me, reading this again in the nodecontext as well.

after this he introduces the book. there aren't many devnotes in that part except for this option here:

cinematic node context: cheeky grin node context: cheeky

after this the two paths diverge between the astral sea scene and the more 'mundane' scene:

the cinematic notes and node context notes for the astral sea scene are the following:

ending with a devnote for a wide cut and a fade to black.

the cinematic context nodes / node context notes for the version where you decline gale's offer are as follows:

Gale: the old ways then. If that is what you wish, so be it.

nodecontext: Tactful, bowing to the player's desires.

Gale: A small gesture towards your comfort. nodecontext:

and of course, there is a nodecontext/devnote too for the option to refuse gale at this point:

Player: This is a pleasant fantasy, but no more. Time to return to the real world. Gale: As you like. Thank you, for spending this time with me. If only there was more. nodecontext: saddened/resigned, but respectful Player: This is a pleasant fantasy, but no more. Time to return to the real world. Gale: As you like. Thank you, for spending this time with me. If only there was more. nodecontext: saddened/resigned, but respectful

anyhow, i hope someone found this as informative and interesting as i did. 🖤

[madtotry]

and if i could let it ride i'd take my time and free my mind one. — two. — three. — coming soon.

hiccup haddock x reader

a/n. gn reader. theres one mention that implies reader believes in gods. we're pretending night furys aren't quite as fast as they are in canon/or you can imagine elsa is just somehow even faster if you want. unlike the past chapters, this one ends abruptly because part 4 will be set immediately after this ★ 1.7k

the air tastes like freedom, and with the way elsa pierces through the wind with more enthusiasm than you've seen since last winter, you know she feels that same magic.

depending on where you go, the air is always crisp and biting, but it isn't always new. there's a time of year where something beautiful lays to rest her weary head until next year, leaving way for something magical to rise in her wake. it's the feeling of knowing the snow is fresh and the world is stopping just for a special moment, to say, "look at this, look at me, look at everything i can do." and you thank the gods every year, that you have lived to see another one of these seasons.

your arms whip up to feel the cold air run through your skin as elsa whips through just above the surface of the ocean, playfully dropping a wing to spray water up at you.

you laugh brightly, tilting your head up to gaze at the clouds racing by, and it takes everything in you to not fall and lay down on elsa's back — the idea in theory representing a perfect pastime, but in reality the one thing that could ruin your mood right now would absolutely be taking an unforeseen dip into the freezing sea lest you slip.

your eyes shut for a moment as you just sit like this, balling your hands into fits before thrusting them in the air excitedly and leaning down on your chest to rest your head atop elsa's.

she chirps at you in greeting, and flies a little further up from the sea to spare you from being splashed.

"i feel so alive," you whisper to her, a tradition at this point; ever since the first time the two of you flew through a day just like this, and you'd declared you'd never felt so alive to her. the sentiment still reigns true every year, and elsa always agrees.

on days like these, you're reminded just how fast she can fly and for just how long she never seems to tire — especially if she's close to the sea.

you don't know for sure how long you've been out here, but you near the island you've met hiccup halfway on in the past up ahead, and feel the same sensation you do when anticipating a new season as you approach it.

"what do you think?" you mutter to your dragon, and she's already dipping to graze the cold water of the ocean to fly just above the surface, circling the island.

the season is absolutely — at the very least partially — to blame for your boldness in going as far as to seek out someone you are usually terrified of looking your way. the world feels safer at times like these, and you almost feel as though you can be yourself, as though you could act like a normal friend.

elsa makes it halfway around the island before you spot hiccup and toothless flying past it, and you find yourself overcome with the urge to yell out jovially to get their attention.

however you bite your tongue, already seeing elsa's own bold plan of sneaking up on them unfolding, and you find you like her idea much more — it feels more like you.

"shhh," you playfully whisper to your already deadly silent dragon, as she glides just far enough behind and below them that she's gone completely undetected.

you have to hold a hand to your mouth to contain a giggle as she slowly rises; still completely unseen.

they finally notice you at the exact same time, both with an identical whip of their heads to your direction.

your hand falls back to hold onto elsa and the other raises to wave, leaving your wide grin on show as hiccup's brief distress at a possible threat becomes his own bright smile.

"you!" he exclaims, like he wants to say a proper greeting but the pleasant surprise caught him off-guard.

"me!" you reply so easily, talking freely having never felt so natural.

"i didn't think you'd be here," he says.

you shrug happily, "i'm always here," referring more to being in the sky this time of year than just the small island.

beneath you, elsa and toothless seem to have been staring at each other this whole time, not in any aggression, but you see toothless's eyes and recognise the glint of competition in them from elsa's own.

hiccup picks up on this a moment later after quietly asking his dragon, "what's going on, bud?" and spares a glance to see you almost smirking with both hands securing themselves on elsa.

in the blink of an eye, the unspoken race begins, and elsa is surging forward and swiftly surpassing toothless, dipping almost imperceptibly closer to the surface of the ocean, knowing she's even faster the closer she gets.

your hearing is enveloped by the strong wind racing past, but a quick cheer from hiccup breaks through the noise as toothless flies past you, now ahead of elsa by a significant distance.

this doesn't discourage her though, and if anything it draws your dragon to grow even more determined, flapping her wings with a vibrating strength followed by bringing them close to her body. you lean down as flat against her as you can, holding on tight as her now tearing through the air like an arrow makes you feel like you could be flung off at a single wrong move.

(you'd laugh at the memory if the wind in your face wouldn't whip your breath away, knowing full well you have been hurled off her back after not being fully prepare for just this.)

she reaches toothless, and flies just a bit further past him when she unfurls her wings to do the heavy lifting once more.

your eye catches hiccup's own mirthful ones and you can tell it's only a matter of time before he pulls a trick out of his sleeve to get ahead again.

you have to crane your head slightly to get a good look at them as elsa gains a lead, and frown when you notice them slowing down ever so slightly as hiccup's hand runs down the back of toothless's neck.

"they're up to something," you whisper to elsa as you try to keep a watchful eye on your competition, but it gets caught in the breeze when the night fury that was just trailing behind, now has caught up to you. he growls proudly, not-so-subtly showing off his new "v" shaped flaps that run from his neck to his tail.

hiccup seems proud too, especially when the two suddenly dip out of your view. you whip your head up and down, left and right, trying to spot where they disappeared to — gasping when toothless appears on your other side swiftly, and hiccup winks.

your mind stutters for a moment, not even realising the two have flown ahead of you again, and instead suddenly acutely aware of the freezing tip of your nose being drowned out by the growing warmth across your cheeks.

elsa, however, grumbles at your disracted demeanour, and speeds up as much as she possibly can, before making a warning 'yelping' sound to you, telling you to prepare for what she's about to do.

her sudden plunge breaks you out of your stupor, and as soon as her downward motion ceases, you sit up straight — this being something you've rarely seen in action and have grown confident in, but all the well familiar with the consequences if you don't raise yourself as far up from the sea as possible.

you know elsa has hit the water from the way her body grows colder, like ice, and you quickly feel the rest of her body submerge with your feet all the way up to where your knees dangle by her sides.

the water rushing past you nearly reaching your hips is heavier than the air above, and you know for yourself it would feel like trying to fly through honey, but for elsa, the water surrounding her only serves to fuel her.

even as the freezing water engulfs the lower half of your body, you reach a hand out to graze the surface. flicking the water with your cold fingertips, you imagine it absorbing into your skin with an ethereal glow, wondering how it feels for elsa to have something so simple yet so powerful coursing through her — funnily enough — like a fire.

toothless is still ahead of elsa, but she's now hot on his tail with her built up speed, and you're regaining focus from the coldness sinking away from your body, holding on tight in preparation for the light show elsa will embodying and soon zoom by her competition.

you find, as elsa rises, that your mind had been just as enveloped as hers in the water — for the moment your feet hang back out in the open air and the water is already dried off your hand, you can suddenly feel hiccup's gaze on the two of you, a heat you'd have quickly and self consciously noticed in any other situation.

you can't find it in yourself to look away from him now, and you can't stop examining his every facial expression — the wonder in his eyes, his surprised smile, and the way you swear it grows when he notices you're looking at him again — as elsa reaches the same height as toothless again; bringing the two of you face-to-face

you can tell the way his eyes are lit up he's curious about every intricate details of what elsa is capable of, his mind reeling at the sight of something he's never even imagined before. it's like he's been shown the stars for the first time, like the constellations are forming before his eyes, and you don't miss the way his eyes flickering from your dragon to you with warm cheeks impacts your heartbeat.

it only lasts a moment though, because the second elsa is side-by-side with toothless once more, you're holding on tight and she's soaring past in a blur.

the world around you feels secondary to the floating feeling of moving this fast, and your eyes shut protectively in face of the air pinching at your skin — but the smile on your face is unstoppable, as elsa's speed leads the two of you to a well deserved win.

[dreaming-like-a-girl]

When my partner and I first got together, I hated how I looked.

Constant bullying had destroyed my self esteem, and paired with that I'd had a major injury while skateboarding that prevented me from doing any physical activity, so I was feeling unhealthy too.

Early on, he'd get this dreamy expression when he looked at me, and I'd shrug it off, laugh, change the subject any way I could. I thought he was making it up. Now, sometimes, if I'm very lucky, I can look in the mirror and see myself how he sees me.

He'd send me selfies, just him smiling into the camera, even though I knew he didn't like taking photos of himself, so I started to send them in return. At first, I'd avoid looking at them before I hit send. Then I started taking them more and more. Now, I look at those photos and see my smile, and think they're the best and happiest I ever look in any photos. I don't delete them anymore.

As an artist, I've always pushed myself to do better, falling into the habits of comparing myself with others. I've never given up, but I'd never been as proud of my work as I was when he started complimenting it. He wanted to keep every scribbled sticky note I'd give him, no matter how silly, treating them like treasure and stowing them away. He'd be in awe when I gifted him proper artworks, putting them straight on his wall. Now I post my art online and I'm pursuing a career in art with confidence.

When I first confided in him that, despite being a cis woman, I'd felt a huge sense of dysphoria related to my boobs since a very young age, he was immediately understanding. First, he helped me try sports bras, and I felt a huge weight had lifted off my shoulders. Recently, he's introduced me to trans tape, and this is the closest I've ever felt to being myself.

Too scared to talk to my GP about mental health, my partner helped me come up with a plan of what I wanted to say and finally convinced me to go, coming with me and helping when I got stuck. Hes been helping me through the long but rewarding trek that has been therapy ever since.

Now that I'm nearing the tail end of my physical recovery, I've been terrified to start skating again, slowly chipping away at the fear with my physiotherapist. But my partner has decided he wants me to teach him to skate, so now we're going to learn together.

I've got a long way to go and I'm still figuring myself out, but I'm so lucky and happy that I'm not on this journey alone.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

A Very Bisexual Revelation (Supernatural One-Shot)

Dean Winchester x (cis) Masc!Reader / requests are open

Summary: Dean Winchester's never had trouble with the ladies, but this is brand new territory for him.

Fic type: fluff, super super smut-lite

A/N: this fic is inspired a lil by Welcome To Being a Girl by @negans-lucille-tblr - that fic did something to me for real it is so so so GOOD! Everyone should read it for sure

SPN: @wereallbrokenangels (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Dean had always been confident with the ladies. Never had a problem getting them from the lockers to his and Sam’s motel room for that week, or from the bar to the backseat of the Impala. He’d never really been that worried about his sexuality because women saw his green eyes and charming smile and practically threw themselves at him.

But that wasn’t to say that he’d never been unappreciative of the male form either. No, he distinctly remembered looking a little too long at Kev Prentiss’ abs in high school, or thinking that John King’s hands were that pretty kind of veiny that girls kind of liked- and he liked it too, but he didn’t throw himself at men, and men didn’t throw themselves at him either.

Not to mention if Dean had stopped to think about his sexuality properly for more than twenty seconds he’d be fucking terrified of his father's reaction. So, he just went about his business, elbow-deep in pussy whenever he wanted. Honestly, knowing that he could go out and bed a happily consenting woman any time he wanted meant that he didn't really think about men all that much anyway.

And then he'd met you. Very manly, very masculine. Very obviously a guy with a guys', you know, equipment. The two of you had met on a hunt way back when and been each other's unofficial back-up rock ever since when either of you needed a hand.

You didn't see each other that often. Once a year if you were lucky (or unlucky- depending on how you looked at it). Twice if you were both hunting near each other and wanted a catch-up.

It had all started as an innocent friendship, but you weren't shy about your sexuality and interest in men (among other things sometimes) and it made Dean wonder. Particularly when he was drunk late at night crashing in a hotel while you snored in the bed next to his own, hand draped over the covers and so close to his own that if Dean really wanted to- he could reach out and touch you.

With every meeting, Dean wondered. At first, just about how you managed to make hunting look so good. It was no wonder monsters, women and other men threw themselves at you when you chucked a wink their way. Then, it was how gracefully you held a rifle, or swung an axe, or decapitated a nasty vampire.

Then it was how he liked the brush of his fingers over your stubble when you both roughed each other up playfully or the feel of your warm skin under his hands as he stitched you up, muscles tensing under the pinch and pull of his needle.

And finally, he realised, well- son of a fucking bitch, he was into you. Not, like, into the way you dressed or into the way you hunted. It finally clicked one Wednesday night after hearing your half-asleep voice on the phone ranting away about a hunt nearby that he was into you in a very I'd-like-to-get-handsy-with-you bisexual kind of way. It was a startling revolution for him, and, of course, he'd been with Sam and just blurted out the sentence- "son of a bitch- I wanna fuck him, don't I?" To which Sam had snorted half his beer down his front, slapped Dean in a comfortingly condescending way on the shoulder as if this wasn't news to him and left to find himself a clean shirt and give Dean some space to wrap that new little factoid around his brain.

It was another two months before Dean saw you again. You'd called him for backup while hunting a Wendigo in the forest a little ways from where Dean had been similarly hunting a good old-fashioned ghost. Six hours, a dead wendigo and eight beers in, Dean was finally tipsy enough to do it.

"So," he said, twirling his beer on the table. Watching the base of the glass tread condensation over the warping wood of the surface, Dean hesitated to make eye contact with you. "What's it like, huh? Being... with another dude."

Beer choked its way down your windpipe. You wiped your mouth and punted your chest a couple times to clear your throat. You told him it was good, no different from being with women, really, aside from the difference in anatomy and feel of it all.

Dean hadn't mentioned it after that. You'd both downed a couple more beers and stumbled back toward the motel room. You'd stumbled with the key for a moment, probably scratching up the lock a little more. Once you'd both stumbled through and Dean had discarded his coat over the back of the mysteriously stained chair by the rickety desk. Rubbing over his stubble, Dean decided he was not going to staying in anything less than a three-star joint from here on out.

"Can I, uh- can I try somethin'?" Dean asked awkwardly, and before you even had the agreement completely off your tongue, his lips were on yours. You jerked in surprise, having not expected this in the slightest, and then he was gone a second later, turned away from you and you could tell- ready to bolt for the door.

"Sorry, fuck-" Dean said, already reaching for his coat and taking a step for the door. You stopped him, had him turn around and face you.

"Do not apologise," you said forcefully, trying to get the words through the haze of panic you could see taking hold of his features. You brushed a hand over his cheek and encouraged him to make eye contact. "Wanna tell me what that was about, stud? Not that I'm complaining."

"Stud, heh," Dean chuckled nervously at the nickname you'd had for him for years now- noting the new more sultry tone the affectionate nickname had taken. "Listen, I- you know me. No bad luck with the ladies, but I've never, uh- you know."

You arched your brow, waiting for him to finish the sentence. It became pretty clear pretty quick that he was going to continue stumbling over his words unless you put him out of his misery.

"Kissed a dude?" You supplied. Dean's mouth opened and closed a few times, a very fine dusting of pink appearing on his cheeks before he nodded, averting his eyes. You eyed him carefully before adding- "Hmm. I know it was pretty short-lived, but- what did you think?"

"I mean- it was good. Yeah, great. No, good- good stuff," he sort of answered, that fine dusting growing just a shade darker.

"Dean, darling," you said, voice dropping an octave in your very best attempt at flirting. "Do you want to do it again? Hmm? Do you want to kiss me, pretty boy?"

Dean's breath hitched, his perpetually creased brows smoothing out in shock. Oh, he's been flirted with, sure. But not like this. Once you realised this, it was as if you'd been struck down with divine motivation. You stepped towards him, crowding him with your very masculine and very intentional energy.

"Yes," Dean whispered, plush lips parting to let bated breath through. "God, yes."

That was all you needed to hear, your hand twisting around to hold the back of his neck and bring him closer. He put up no fight as you pressed your lips to his, nibbling at the soft skin. If you didn't know better, it almost sounded like Dean whimpered in response to it before he kissed back, surging forward.

You stepped back, allowing him to crowd you against the end of the bed. Your ass hit the mattress and Dean was crawling on top of you faster than you could blink, fingers trailing over your tee and following the curve of your body up and over your chest, up your neck to cup at your jaw.

It was your turn now to be speechless, hands curling around Dean's hips and giving a soft squeeze. Dean grunted into your mouth, barely breaking away long enough to take a breath before he was back on you.

Dean kissed you like his life depended on it. Years of repressed sexuality all coming out in one kiss. You didn't mind that he'd taken control. In fact, you'd kind of expected it. Dean didn't like to take anything lying down. Especially not something he was nervous about. This was a whole new world for him. It made sense he'd want to keep control over that.

His lips moved over yours, nipping at your own and trailing over your cheeks, neck and back up to your mouth once again. He licked at your lip, requesting access which you granted greedily, tongue playing with his. Dean moaned into your mouth, hips rolling over your own.

You pulled away to catch your breath and Dean leaned above you with a smile that mixed cockiness and vulnerability in such a way that you'd never seen it before, but you wanted to see it again. God, you'd love to see Dean fucked out and boneless. You wanted to really see him let go.

"Been wanting to kiss you for a long time, stud," you said, squeezing Dean's hips. The man in question, puffy-lipped and red-cheeked, chuckled.

"Yeah, me too, handsome," he said, voice low with desire. Then, he added, more to himself than you, "shit- maybe I am gayer than I thought... Huh... who knew?"

[ilovetheriddler]

For your Halloween fic prompts, could you do (BTAS) Penguin x Gn!reader where he gets dragged to a haunted house and reader is one of the main monsters/scarers? Thank youu

I loveeee horror and I also love your work ^_^

(Also, you can add smut if you want, but if you do could you do top reader bc I swear no one thinks about how good Ozzie would look getting roughed up 👁️)

Oh! I love this! I hope that you enjoy it!

Halloween Fic Event.

Penguins in a haunted house? It's more likely than you think!

(Oswald Cobblepot x GN!Reader.)

Contents: a bit of scaring, slight jealousy.

Oswald wasn't too keen on the idea of wasting his time visiting a haunted house... but you had insisted that he just had to go, which wouldn't have been unbearable if you had been available to join him, but you told him that you'd be busy with some job you'd recently gotten, what job could possibly be more important than him?! He'd be more than willing to provide you with anything you wanted, yet you insisted on working all these odd jobs here and there. It was baffling to him.

It was so poorly lit in here. How was he expected to even see five feet in front of himself in these conditions?! As he walked, he couldn't understand how anyone could find something this tame so scary? At least not until someone jumped out in front of him and made him feel like he was about to pass out from how high his heart rate skyrocketed. As he tried to calm his nerves, he heard a familiar laughter.

"M-my Beloved? Is that you?"

"Hehe... yep! Did I scare you?"

It was just you, dressed up in a fairly impressive costume. You had gotten a job to work here during the short time that it was opened. You'd always loved horror and thought it would be fun to scare some people... Oswald included, of course! You couldn't help yourself. He looked adorable when he was all startled and flustered! You reached your hand out and helped him stabilize himself.

"You... could have just simply informed me that you worked here instead of giving me a near heart attack!"

"I know, but it was honestly too tempting, you know?"

"... So, they're paying well, right? You enjoy this job?"

"Yeah, it's nice, and I get paid more than I thought i would so..."

He let out a hum of approval as he looked you up and down, taking note of how you looked all dressed up to be terrifying, out of all of the different partners he's had over the years, you were definitely his favorite. You were always so sweet to him, amusing, and your interests were quite unique. He always loved hearing you talk about them.

"So... What time do you get off? I'd love to take you to that new place uptown..."

"Hmm... that does sound nice... i get off in a few hours."

"...Very well then, I'll come back and pick you up then."

He figured it was best to leave you to your work until later. He didn't want to distract you after all. He didn't go far, though. He just sat outside the haunted house.... waiting. He occasionally worried about your well-being a bit too much, but Gotham was a dangerous city after all! It was reasonable worry as far as he was concerned.

He knew the city better than anyone else and also knew the dangerous people that lurked within it, like the joker. He'd do everything in his power to make sure you never ran into that guy. Or Jonathan Crane.... but that was less out of fear for your safety and more out of fear that Crane might be into you if he ever met you, and he'd let that happen over his dead body!

[vitzi9]

Of course Ghostface wants you!

Gf!Ethan X GN!Reader

Masterlist if you want to read my other things.

‼️CW/TW‼️: scar; manipulative E; yandere!Ethan

If there's others tell me.

Not satisfied with this one, like really not. I fell like this is pure shit. Sorry.

"I'm scared, E. I'm actually terrified."

Ethan tightens his hold around you and kiss your forehead. The both of you lying down on your bed after a movie and an argument with the group.

"Ghostface wants us, he probably wants me, too! I don't wanna die, not like this. And the group... They want to separate you from me. You're my only support. Don't leave."

"I won't leave you." He whispers in your ear. "I'd never leave you. Nobody'll ever separate you from me. We'll be together forever. I'll protect you from everything."

According to Mindy, Ethan was the main suspect. When the first attack occurred, he wasn't here. Everyone got hurt, and Anika...

A wave of sadness overcome you and you feel your eyes water again.

"Love..." Ethan whispers, concern in his voice.

His thumbs caress your cheek while a weak smile makes his way to your face. The first attack was so unexpected, nobody was ready.

You even got hurt, too. Ghostface plunged his knife into your thigh. The hit was directed towards Sam but, trying to push her away, you fell and got hurt instead of her. Badly. You'll never regret it though.

Ethan's hand goes down your shoulders, to your hips to finally settle on your thigh. Where your stitches remains. He does not put his palms directly on it since the scar is really fresh and not healed yet. But his hand was still close to it. He was feeling guilty ever since he saw you with Chad near the ambulance. He was blaming himself.

"It's not your fault, E." You say.

-Yes, it is. I should have been here.

-But you weren't. It's useless to think of what you could have done. I'm alive. That's what matters."

You feel water running down your head. A single drop. A tear. Ethan is crying. You take Ethan's hand which is on your thigh and move it to your hip. Your good leg sneak its way in between his. While the hurt one goes above them to frame him. But not too far in case you worsen your stitches by stretching it. Both of your arms go under his. Your chest is glued to his.

"It's my fault.

-It's Ghostface's fault. He's the one who attacked me. Not you."

Ethan stays silent. His hand caress your back slowly and you do the same for him. Both of you comforting each other in the almost religious silence of the room. Some cars could faintly be heard outside but you were not paying attention to them.

In this hug, you were protecting each other. You were telling him how much you loved him, how much you were grateful. While Ethan was telling you that everything would be fine. He was so worried... You were happy he had econ. You don't know what you would have done if you saw him get hurt. He's the only one who understands you. The last thing you want is to see him in danger.

"You're risking your live by staying with me, you know ?" You talk with a shaky voice. You were getting emotional again just by thinking of what could happen.

"I'm sure Ghostface won't hurt you. How could he kill someone as pretty as you?"

"That's not funny, E. I'm really scared.

"I know but I swear to you, from now on, I'll always be by your side."

You nod, burying your face in his chest. Your arms tighten around him. You feel him tense for a second. Worried, you look up at him to just see him smiling, all softened, at you. He was so pretty. How could the others ever think of him as a criminal ? He was the one massaging your back when you were tired. He was the one cuddling you when you were sad. He was the one litteraly apologizing to chairs when he bumped into them. He was the one crying watching romantics movies ! How could he kill someone?

"Did I hurt you?" You ask.

-No, love. Why?" He whispers back.

You took time to respond, chilling in the pretty silence of the room where all you could hear were your two breath. It was hot but a nice hotness. A calming one. It made you sleepy, you who had sleep issue.

"Your body contracted when I touched you.

-It's nothing..."

Still worried, you move in the bed. Your back now facing him. He's whining, missing your body close already. You grab your phone and quicky return under the blanket. This time though, your head goes underneath. With the flashlight of your phone, you move up his shirt and look at where you touched moment prior. Ethan sighs.

"I told you it's nothing."

But you ignore him and go back to the surface. Meeting his accustomed yet loving gaze.

"Did your hurt yourself? You have a bruise on your hip."

He laughs nervously, as if embarrassed. His big hands takes a good hold of your hips before moving you up until you're face to face. He then hides his face in your neck. He loved doing that, manhandling you. You never understood why. He sighs once in the comfort of your body.

"I bumped into the corner of the table yesterday."

You had doubts.

"You're not hiding something from me, right ?"

But Ethan never doubted himself.

"What ? You think I'm Ghostface, too?" He said in a ironical tone, knowing damn well he won already.

You were not laughing. You would never dare doubt your boyfriend like that. The only reason you asked that was because you were scared he got into a fight or simply hurt himself bad. It happens, after all. Never would the thought he was a murderer even cross your mind. So you push him away from you a little to see his face. Not even a shadow of a smile on your face.

"Don't say that. Even for a joke. You know it makes me angry. I don't like them saying that. You're not Ghostface. I think I'd knew it well if you were a damn serial killer." You said, gritting your teeth, your hands clenching around his shirt.

-Well, I don't like them saying that either. Plus, they imply that you'd be stupid enough to be in a relationship with someone you barely know. But you're not stupid. And we know each other. You're the cleverest person in the damn world.

The subject changed and you didn't even notice.

-I am stupid sometimes, though. There is lot of things that I don't notice. Like when that guy was following me home. If it weren't for you I'd be dead.

-And that's why I'm here.

It was his duty, after all. To protect you.

-But Ghostface is not just a creepy guy in an alley. He's much more dangerous Ethan. And he wants me dead. He wants me.

-Of course he wants you my love, you're so pretty. Everyone want you.

You move away from his embrace and stare at him angrily. You had already told him not to joke like that and he was still doing it. Your eyes were swollen and your cheeks were dry. Contradictory with the long minutes you spent wetting them.

-Seriously Ethan, don't joke on that subject. It's making me uncomfortable. Anika is dead because of that guy. I don't want to laugh.

You cringed internally mentioning your friend. Fuck, she wasn't even related to the group that much. She was new, like Ethan. Why was she targeted ?

-I'm joking on it because I know nothing will happen to you. You're safe with me." He was smiling. A reassuring smile. One you could pour all your trust in.

You could never stay mad at Ethan anyway. Less in a situation like this. You needed support. And your friends didn't want him around. You only had him to dry your tears.

"I don't want you to get hurt." You said, entering back your safe place: his arms.

"I already told you. I won't. I'm staying here until you are safe.

-And the group? Chad, Mindy, Sam and Tara ? What about them?

-I'm sure they'll be fine. Even if they threw you out of their house...

-They didn't throw me out of the house, Ethan. I know you don't like them but they're my friends. They're scared too, you have to understand that.

-Okay, I understand. But if I wasn't here, you would have been all alone. They shouldn't have kicked you out in a situation like this."

You found nothing to answer this time. Because it was true. If he wasn't here, you'd be alone. They didn't kick you out, you left with Ethan because you were angry with their accusatory remarks towards him. But still, no one tried to call you. To know how you were doing. To even check if you were alive. And realizing that, you start crying again. You were so sensitive since Anika's death. You were truly in edge. You were happy Ethan was here.

"I'm alone E. I'm so fucking alone..." You realized.

-No, of course not. You're not alone. I'm here. I'd die for you. I'll protect you. Nothing will ever harm you as long as I'm here. You'll always be seen with me by your side. I'll marry you one day. You know that?"

You weren't listening anymore. You were remembering every memory you had with your friends. Searching a way to come back to them, to regain their trust. You needed them, they were your dear friends. Maybe you were dramatic but you had every right to be. And Ethan was right. They had left you alone to die by Ghostface. They had left you knowing you were a target. But you loved them, you couldn't resent them.

"We'll live a life where you won't need anyone but me. And I won't need anyone but you. A house secluded where no one can come. After all of this is done, we'll be together."

Ethan was smiling. But you couldn't see it.

[aerkame]

In the finfolk au, what if y/n knew not to give Wally their real name (or at least was weary of him and didn’t trust him enough to tell) and tried to give a nickname instead? Would he know instantly they were lying? And how would he try to get them to say their real name? Also, how would he and everyone else react if y/n upon transforming into a mermaid was terrified and tried to escape?

If Wally doesn't take notice of something Home is there to help... Side note: Normal puppets are just the equivalent of humans in this AU to prevent confusion.

EDIT: ACK, just remembered the last part of the ask. I shall make a part 2 to this ask then. Hopefully the anon will be able to see it when it gets posted!

You were always warned about the finfolk. Luckily you weren't exactly a normal puppet so you doubt that any of the residents here would try to trap you on the island with them. But that small bit of paranoia kept you on your toes...well crutches. Your leg was still healing and as far as you could tell you'd be staying at 'Home' until the injury healed.

"My name is..." You thought of something quick, giving Wally a fake name. You don't know what exactly will happen if you give him your true name, but you've heard plenty of times now to never ever give it out to the fae, demons, angels, or the finfolk.

The tall puppet clicked his felt tongue before placing his hands behind his back. "What a lovely name."

---

Wally is well aware that you have been lying to him, but who is he to try and pry information out of you? He shook his head at the thought. While the finman really wanted to just force the name out of you, it would be better to get you comfortable here first, and then they could begin their goal on making you a permanent resident. Just like they did with Frank.

Speaking of which...he turned around to look at the puppet in question, humming in delight upon seeing you two get along, sipping tea and sharing stories.

Frank was the perfect tool to get you to open up really. He had no issues with the island, he understood selkies and their current dwindling numbers, he was level-headed, and most importantly, he was a normal puppet before. He could relate to you in a sense. The grey puppet even helped you lean towards staying or at least consider the possibility of staying here, having brought up the issue that poachers and criminals alike will do nothing but continue stealing selkie coats for profit.

"Quite frankly, you might be better off staying here. You and I both know there is not much out there for selkies and it's only going to get worse with the constant poaching and coat thieves, your kind are on the brink of extinction for stars sake."

Frank sighed after his mini-rant, having worked himself up. The topic of poaching and hunting exotic or near-extinct species was an upsetting topic and it was easy to tell. You didn't speak much for a while after that, continuing to listen to Frank while sipping at the hot beverage. "Hey...Frank, if I did decide to stay would the others even be alright with that?" Your voice cracked a bit. You don't know why, but it felt like eyes were pinning you to the plush seat, demanding that you stay put.

His eyebrows quirked and he gave you a questioning look. "I have no doubt that the neighbors wouldn't mind you staying." He crossed his arms looking more stern now. "If anything I'd say that you would be safer here with us."

You gave Frank a small smile. The eyes followed you.

---

"So, neighbor. I heard that you've been getting quite comfortable yes?" Wally swished his wine in small circles before taking a sip, not once taking his eyes off you.

"oh, uhm, yes! It's very nice here, there are so many smaller islands and lots of places to explore. And the colorsss..." Your words slurred slightly "so many colors evenn in the plantss. I've never seen any place like thiss! I mean even the insects and fish are unique here, Frankyy showed me his whole collection which he says isn't done ye-" Your face was beet red and the finman could tell he had you drunk enough once you couldn't stop talking yourself into a mess.

Carefully leaning over, Wally placed a hand on yours as he rubbed circles into your palm. Time to butter you up.

"You know, you could always stay with us here, forever. You'll never not be bored, you'll have friends, and you'd be safe." He inhaled, the small but hidden slits behind his cheeks opening, smelling the scent that lingered on your form remembering it was the perfume he gave you. He sighed, content.

Wally looked down at your small body. You had stopped rambling and now you were avoiding eye contact, preferring to look down into your lap or looking off to the side.

"Ah...you know, I could never get your name out of my mind. It's just so wonderful...If you did stay I could call you by it all I want." He leaned in closer, softly grabbing hold of your chin to lift it up, making sure he could see your eyes.

A thumb brushed over your mouth "I just wished there was more I could do to help you..." He breathed out your false name and watched you struggle internally...good.

"Uhm, actually, Wally, there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"Oh? I'm all ears." His plan was going along flawlessly.

Wally softly let go of your face, but remained close, fixing you in a position of feeling pinned. "I-I lied. About my name. I lied aboutt a lot of things." Some of your letters still slurred but it was obvious you were trying your hardest to think clearly.

"That's alright dear, I knew the whole time, but I figured you had a reason." Wally was grinning ear to ear.

"My real name is..." Your named slipped your mouth.

Yellow hands flew up to cup your cheeks. Wally held a mixed face that was of bliss and excitement. "Oh my darling I am so sorry I've called you by another name this entire time! Please allow me to make up for it with another dinner? Same time tomorrow."

Your head felt fuzzy as you nodded along to whatever he said. "It's- alriight." You felt numbed. Wait...

A part of you panicked for a second, having snapped into the the realm of reality, but you calmed down shortly after. You trusted him. Wally would never harm you or trap you right? He and the others have been all too kind and welcoming and if they really wanted to trap you they'd have figured out a way by now. Your thoughts were so rapid, everything is fast, too fast.

Wally was so caught up in his own thoughts he didn't pay attention to your swaying body until he heard a loud 'thud' and looked down at your sleeping form.

Oh dear, maybe that beverage was too strong for you to handle.

TL;DR

Don't get drunk around Wally. He's a finman and won't get drunk as easily... and he'll probably take advantage of that to get info out of you. Or he'll just make you a blushing mess.

[luna-writes-stuff]

Francesca, Aragorn

Song link

Fanfic, gn! reader

Angst with fluffy ending

Word count: 2651

Tw: Mentions of battle/injuries/deaths. Mourning and loss and whatnot. Aftermath of the Battle of Helm’s Deep.

Summary: When you joined the fellowship, it was in order to protect the ring bearer. You had never been in a true fight, nor had you ever slain anyone before. Your first battle had been a gruesome one, and you struggle to compose yourself afterwards. Aragorn comes to your room to comfort you.

Requested by @rebelbagel . You initially wanted Until It Sleeps, but when I was writing it, I realised the fic was pretty much exactly the same to this one (hurt/comfort). This one was written for someone else who didn’t want to be tagged, but I decided to combine it with your request! I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but I still hope you like it <;33

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“Do you think I'd give up? That this might've shook the love from me? Or that I was on the brink? How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily?”

You weren’t a fighter. Never had been. You’d never even killed someone to begin with, and that would say a lot considering the life of a ranger. You knew how to hunt, you knew how to hide, but you would never fight unless there had been no other option. And in all your years, the need for it had never been apparent.

You should have known better when you joined the fellowship. You had met Aragorn years earlier, and began travelling together shortly after. You had aided him in bringing the hobbits to safety in Bree, after which you swore to protect him and the ring bearer. You knew the journey would be a dangerous one, and you would never get through it without fighting, however much you wished to have held the same positivity as Merry and Pippin.

You had gotten the relatively easy route initially. Your first kill had been an Uruk-Hai, and though still terrifying, you didn’t feel much remorse for it afterwards - they were ruthless killers to begin with.

But everything quickly went downhill after the Battle of Helm’s Deep. The desperate screams of the women, the final shouts of fallen men, rain water turning red upon reaching the floor, and the abandoned weapons. You had expected to calm down once the battle had been over and you were free to return to your appointed chambers, but somehow, the feeling of desperation and grief only seemed to grow at the impending silence. The second you had entered the room, you had sat down on the bed, simply staring ahead, your eyes glued at the wall, hyper aware of all sounds around you.

“Now that it's done There's not one thing that I would change. My life was a storm, since I was born. How could I fear any hurricane?”

You could still hear the sobbing and praying in the square, followed by footsteps in the keep and hushed whispers which you couldn’t quite decipher. But most heartbreaking of all were the mothers crying out for their lost children. Your fight did not lie with the people of Rohan - you had fought alongside them. Yet, it felt as if you were to blame for all this pain.

Familiar footsteps were heard coming up the hall, before gently halting in front of your door. You wanted to call out, be it to dismiss him or to invite him, but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to make any noise. So when he knocked and you remained silent, he let himself in.

“You should let someone see your injuries,” He remarked kindly, having already taken note of your sudden silence after the battle. He knew better than to comment on the whole ordeal immediately. You merely shrugged at him, your eyes slowly falling onto his figure. He sighed as he observed you, silently closing the door behind him before nearing you.

He didn’t say anything as he sat down beside you, his own injuries seemingly not having been attended to as well. You didn’t tease him for it. Not now. You just stared back at the blank wall, your mind replaying the scenes that had occurred only moments earlier.

“If someone asked me at the end. I'll tell them put me back in it Darling, I would do it again.”

His hand on yours is what slowly pulled you out of your mind and back to the present. You didn’t know what to say. No words would make up for what you had seen or what you had felt. It just felt wrong. All of it did.

“The people of Rohan will be safe now,” Aragorn tried to console, but you interrupted him halfway. “These are mothers,” your finger pointed towards the window, where sobbing was still audibly heard. “And they just lost their children.” Then, your head turned slightly, your eyes trailing up to meet his. “How do you cope with that?”

Sincerity and sympathy formed in his eyes as he furrowed his eyebrows together, visibly contemplating what to say next: “We can’t linger on that which is already lost.” You just scoffed at that, shaking your head lightly. “That sounds easy.” He dared risk a little smile at that, squeezing your hand in reassurance.

You tried to copy his smile, forcing happiness onto your features. A single choked sob escaped you as the lump in your throat began to build, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to push the feeling down. You didn’t see nor hear Aragorn push closer to you until his arms were around you.

“If I could hold you for a minute Darling, I'd go through it again.”

He didn’t speak as you broke down in his arms. Your hands clung tightly to the back of his shirt, your face buried against his chest as your body shook with your sobs. You had endured hardship before this travel, and had seen enough of it during your travel, but it suddenly seemed to become too much. Inexplicable grief washes over you. Grief for people you fought with; whose names you might not have known, but who you would have laid your life down for.

The aftermath seemed to simply be the breaking point. When all adrenaline had worn off and reality had begun to settle in. The moment you realised what you have done and what it had cost. The aching in your body seemed all the more visible now, but somehow it hadn’t even come close to the mental turmoil soaring through your body.

If this is what Aragorn had felt during all his earlier battles, you weren’t quite sure how you would manage after that. You had sworn to protect Frodo, and though he wasn’t near now, you would gladly give your life to pave the way for him. However, now you wanted nothing more than to simply stay here and help everyone build the keep back up again.

“I would still be surprised I could find you, darling In any life. If I could hold you for a minute Darling, I would do it again.”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you admitted through sobs, too embarrassed to look back up at him, even though you were sure he wouldn’t have minded. Be that as it may, you heard his gentle voice soothing you, shushing you before speaking: “I understand.”

You didn’t know what you expected him to say, but you would have at least anticipated some resistance. Some voice of reassurance telling you that you would be okay. That it was simply all in your head and that there was no reason to be stuck up on this. You would have anticipated anything but him telling you that he simply understood.

If this was your moment and your decision to stay, he wouldn’t even fight you on it. You and him both knew that you staying here would only make the destruction of Mordor and Sauron more difficult, but Aragorn was willing to risk it all just to let you handle on your own boundaries. If you hadn’t already fallen for him before, you might have just done it all over now.

“For all that was said Of where we'd end up at the end of it. When the heart would cease. Ours never knew peace. What good would it be on the far side of things?”

The hurricane of anguish and anger slowly settled as you properly processed his two words, your crying eventually dying down, though his grip did not fade.

Finally, you looked up at him, confusion on your face. “What if I were to stay? Are you not going to ask me with you?” “Why should I?” He countered softly, no ill intentions on his tongue. “Of course I would want nothing more than you beside me, but who am I to force you into a fight you do not wish to be part of?”

You couldn’t suppress the slight scoff in your throat as his words. Shaking your head lightly, you rested it back upon his chest, his hold now more comfortable than soothing. “This fight requires everyone to take part,” you lectured quietly. “Sauron takes no neutral opponents.”

Instead of a verbal response, he lowered his head lightly, placing a kiss in your hair, letting it linger for a while.

“It was too soon When that part of you was ripped away. A grip taking hold Like a cancer that grows Each piece of your body that it takes.”

“If you wish to stay here, I will let you.” He confessed, his voice a mumble against your skin. You would have loved to stay and get caught up in a fairy tale where you didn’t have to face the consequences of your actions, nor keep to the promises you had made. But you knew better than to remain there that was safe and false.

“I don’t know.” You answered honestly, hesitation clear in your voice. A heavy sigh came from you as your shoulders drooped. “It was all so much.”

Aragorn hummed in understanding, his hands squeezing you slightly, before parting from your hold. “The aftermath of a battle is the hardest part of fighting.” When you nodded at him, he continued: “But it also reminds me of why to never stop fighting. If I had not, I do not think I would have been on the right side of history.”

Again, you couldn’t help but smile slightly, wiping the tears from your face as you tried to forget about your breakdown seconds prior. “You want to leave a legacy.” You voiced.

“Though I know my heart would break I'll tell them put me back in it. Darling, I would do it again.”

“Yes,” he admitted. “But not for the world.” Then, he rose from his seat on the bed, now making way to the window, observing the people walking around on the battle-ridden fields. “For those who properly knew me. I do not want to die, knowing I could have fought.”

He turned around at his own words, dropping his head to the side as if hearing his own advice for the first time. “You live. That is why you keep fighting.”

You wanted to believe him. He seemed so confident about his own speech that it nearly enticed you as well. But as you followed his footsteps and came faced with that which you had dreaded this entire time, your expression fell again: “What about those who lost their kin. Their loved ones?”

Aragorn followed your gaze, spotting an elderly woman weeping at the tears of an older soldier - one who you could have only guessed to be her spouse. Empathy came to Aragorn’s senses. Yes; he did feel bad for the people. It was, in a way, his responsibility to keep them safe. And though a great half of them had been alive, he could not say so for the rest. Yet, he kept his head high: “It is not up to us to determine their sorrow, nor force ourselves into their narratives. Let them grieve in their own way.”

“If I could hold you for a minute Darling, I'd go through it again.”

Your hand found him as you stood beside him, your head leaning on his shoulder as you observed the people. You could understand his point, and you wanted to feel that way as well. But words were easier spoken than actions were executed.

“Yes, lives were lost,” the man continued. “But there always will be. We remember those who have fallen and fight our next battles in their honour. There is no dignity in dying for salvation.”

‘There is no dignity in dying for salvation’. Those were words that you could understand. Words that you might have believed and emphasised with. He did have a natural skill for great speeches. You voiced this to him: “Spoken like a true king.”

“I am no leader.” He chuckled, shaking his head. Before he could bring his argument, you interrupted him, pointing towards Théoden, who was speaking to a small group of men: “I think the people would disagree.” Then, you looked up at him, shrugging nonchalantly.

“I think I would disagree.”

“I would still be surprised I could find you, darling In any life. If I could hold you for a minute. Darling, I would do it again.”

He reciprocated your look, that somehow permanent and effortless expression of gratitude and love written on his face. “I would have you; king or no king.” He spoke sincerely. “I do not care for the thoughts of others.”

In any other scenario, you could have easily said something back. But the comment seemed to come out of thin air, taking you by surprise. Regardless of the amount of times he had expressed his love to you verbally, it could still take you aback at times. Your face heated at his words, a flustered ‘thank you’ spilling from your lips as you forced your eyes to the mountains ahead.

Darkness loomed there, the sky having turned almost black. If there had been any sunlight left, it was not in the east of Middle-Earth. Helm’s Deep appeared to be the final destination of a little sliver of light, its luminescence faint, but apparent. It reminded you of what you had yet to face. That this battle might not be the most difficult one yet. Perhaps you were right to stay. It would certainly be the safer option.

But there was no point in being on the wrong side of history.

“I would not change it each time Heaven is not fit to house a love Like you and I.”

“I could not stay,” you ultimately decided aloud. “If I can do anything about the terror of Sauron, I should. His defeat is near, I know this.”

A snicker of relief came from Aragorn as he let go of your hand. “You have great hope in Sam and Frodo,” he shared. “Keep it; hope is your greatest weapon.”

“No,” you dismissed. “My weapon is my greatest weapon. And maybe you.” Finally, a genuine smile climbed on his face. No assuring chuckles or elevating grins; a genuine, relieved smile. “Maybe me?” “If you were not here to tell me all this, I don’t think I would have walked with you to the ends of the earth.” “You do not have to,” Aragorn tried to convince, but your mind was already made up.

“No, I’m going to.”

“I would not change it each time. Heaven is not fit to house a love Like you and I.”

His arm wrapped around you as he pulled you into his side, a hum of acknowledgment vibrating through him. “Then I am glad to have you at my side.”

You turned your head to the side, leaning down to place a kiss on the hand that held your arm. In response, the fingers flexed slightly; a signal of near affection and endearment. If he could not voice it, he would show it.

“I’ll fight,” you hummed, nodding your head towards the square in front of you. “For them. And for all who might follow them.”

And though a fight against Sauron sounded terrifying, you found yourself oozing with new-found confidence, if not some sort of comfort. A legacy; not for the people of Middle-Earth, but for your kin. Something to remember you by. If you were to go down, you weren’t doing it by giving up. You would do it beside him, fighting for those who cannot. And somehow, that seemed more peaceful than you imagined war to sound like.

“I would not change it each time. Heaven is not fit to house a love Like you and I.”