#brant x you

[frostyresolve]

candy connoisseur ꒰ ᝬ brant

he declares himself a true savant of sweets, you don’t believe him so he gives you a taste of his expertise. 800 words. fluff

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧

he holds up the peppermint, turning it this way and that, as if inspecting it for flaws. “no two peppermints are the same, you see. the ratio of peppermint oil to sugar is crucial, and the crispness of the outer layer can’t be ignored.”

you’re trying not to yell at him, your smile more of a grimace as you resist the urge to flee from the seller who’s eyeing you both curiously. he’s trying not to relish in the way you link your arm with his, pretending to be a couple. you didn’t have to choose the guise of being his significant other, but his heart flutters that you decided to. so BRANT decides to make his move.

“and you can tell that from your sense of smell? are you sure you’re not secretly a bloodhound, captain?” you try not to laugh, covering your mouth to hide your smile, shoulders rigid with tension you’re filling miserable to hide.

he flashes you a wide grin, clearly enjoying this exchange. “who knows? i might have a bit of bloodhound in me. but that's not important.”

he’s dead serious, you realise, cradling the sweet like a pearl he’s just fished out of the ocean, the shine of melting sugar coating his fingertips under the light of the market. the thing with him was that he never understood the art of subtlety; blame the performer in him that thrived being under the spotlight. he was the star of the show after all, and a star’s light would always shine, no matter how dim or far away it was from the audience’s eyes.

“what is important is that i, a captain and a man of discerning taste, find the most scrumptious and satisfying peppermint stick in this entire market. no two peppermints are the same, after all. the ratio of peppermint oil to sugar is crucial, and the crispness of the outer layer can’t be ignored.” his declaration is loud, almost like he’s presenting another show, the gaze of other patrons and market goers landing on the two of you. biting your cheek, you resist the urge to shake BRANT by the collar until he gets the message to shut up. instead, you just nod along with an uneasy smile, praying to the sentinel that you both won’t be caught.

you were too tired pretending to be the damsel in distress so that he could escape. honestly speaking, he was more suited to the role of princess, with you saving his skin on more than one occasion.

he takes another deep breath, eyes fluttering shut in deep contemplation as he registers the scent of the sweet. “aha. see? crucial process.”

“yeah, uh-huh. sure! so we’ll take that one then!” you cut in, about to snatch the sweet from his hand before he pops it in your mouth to your horror. the voice in your head is practically shrieking at you right now. curse your luck for having to babysit him. seems that your promise to roccia to keep him out of trouble is down the gutter now.

“wait a moment, my dear. you haven’t even tried it yet.” he sighs with a pout, tongue swiping over his lips sheening with melting sugar. he’s infuriating, always driving you mad, but you can’t help but admire his boldness, something you couldn’t imagine yourself being.

again, your exasperation flares like oil to a flame, patience thinning, about to snap, before BRANT presses his lips to yours. of course you’d be caught off guard, gasping against his mouth and stumbling backwards in shock. he’s quick to catch you, hands snaking around your waist and squeezing your hip slightly. the scent of peppermint from your shared breaths wafts through your nose, the taste of sugar crystals on your intertwined tongues before he pulls away.

“how does it taste? you are now my disciple, and as such, you shall have to taste every sweet they have to offer. with me as your dashing mentor, naturally.” he shoots you a wink alongside his smirk, your cheeks flushed and heartbeat running rampant under his gaze.

the taste of him still lingers in your mouth as your fingers touch your mouth, swiping away the remnants of his sickly sweet kiss. the same way you’d feel after indulging in a treat, you find yourself craving more. taking a deep breath and mustering your courage, you’re about to reply despite your bubbling excitement until the yell of the sweet seller interrupts your moment.

he didn’t pay for that peppermint, it seems, nor for the multitude of multicoloured orbs that accidentally spill out of his pockets as he grabs your hand before taking off into the streets. hopefully he doesn’t drop all the sweets in his haste to escape; BRANT had much more to teach you after all.

© FROSTYRESOLVE 2025. DO NOT PLAGIARISE, REUPLOAD OR FEED MY WORKS INTO AI

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

what are your thoughs on soft dom brant + mirror sex? Just him praising and worshipping you and tell you are beautiful while he gently fucks you in front of the mirror ☹️

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ tws : nsfw/smut, creampie (vaginal), mirror s*x, gentle Brant, neck kissing, nipple play, (gentle) spanking, pet names and others!

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ note : art banner by : rororo_mg on X! （𝓂𝒹𝓃𝒾）

Brant held you against him, his chest warm and solid at your back, his arms wrapped around you as if you were something precious—something he couldn't bear to let go of. In front of you, the mirror reflected everything: the way your body trembled, the way his hands roamed your skin, the way his cock slowly stretched you open.

"Look at yourself," he murmured against your neck, his voice low and affectionate. "See how perfect you are for me."

You tried, but it was hard to focus when he was kissing a slow path down your throat, his teeth scraping just enough to make you gasp. His hands were everywhere—one kneading your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, the other splayed across your stomach, holding you steady as he rocked into you.

"Brant," you whimpered, hips shifting to take him deeper.

"Shh, sweetheart," he soothed, dragging his palm lower, fingers slipping between your thighs. He pressed his thumb to your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to make your legs shake. "I want you to watch. Want you to see how beautiful you look taking me."

Your reflection was almost too much—his strong arms wrapped around you, the way his cock disappeared inside you, the wetness slicking your thighs, proof of just how much you needed him. The way his fingers played with your nipple, pinching and rolling until you were arching into his touch, only to have him smack the soft flesh lightly before soothing it with a gentle squeeze.

"Brant," you whined, leaning back into him.

He chuckled, his breath hot against your ear. "Feel good, baby?" His hips rolled forward, pushing deep, making sure you felt every inch of him.

"Y-yeah—"

Another soft slap, this time against your thigh, followed by a warm, lingering kiss on your shoulder. "Then say thank you."

Your cheeks burned, but you didn't hesitate. "Thank you, Brant."

His grip tightened, a pleased hum vibrating against your skin. "Good girl."

His fingers worked your clit with slow, teasing circles, his other hand never leaving your breast, alternating between soft tugs and soothing caresses. The pleasure built steadily, every touch, every word sending heat pooling in your stomach.

"That’s it," he whispered, pressing his lips against your temple. "Let me take care of you."

And with the way he worshipped you—with his hands, his voice, his cock—you knew he always would.

Brant’s hands never stopped moving, always touching, always worshipping—as if he couldn’t decide which part of you deserved his attention most. His cock pushed deep, filling you completely, while his fingers teased your clit with slow, deliberate strokes. Every touch was meant to make you feel cherished, every whispered praise was meant to remind you that you were his.

"Look at you," he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. His voice was so full of reverence, so full of love. "So beautiful like this… all soft and open for me."

His free hand trailed over your stomach, fingers tracing light patterns across your skin before traveling up, cupping your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. His touch was gentle but firm, designed to make you squirm against him.

"Do you see how perfect you are?" He nudged his nose against your cheek, his lips brushing over your heated skin. "The way you take me so well… the way your pussy clings to my cock, desperate for more."

His words made you whimper, your body tightening around him in response. His reflection in the mirror was breathtaking—his golden eyes dark with desire, his lips slightly parted as he watched you fall apart under his touch.

"You’re my everything, sweetheart," he whispered, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your throat. His tongue flicked over the sensitive skin before he sucked, leaving the faintest mark—a reminder that you were his, just as he was yours. "Every inch of you is perfect. Every sound you make, every little shiver—"

His hand slid lower again, fingers teasing your clit with slow, controlled circles. His cock dragged against your walls with every deep, steady thrust, and the combination of it all sent a sharp pulse of pleasure through you.

"Brant—" Your voice broke, your body trembling in his arms.

"Shh, I've got you," he soothed, his hands tightening around you, holding you even closer. "Let go for me, sweetheart. Show me how pretty you are when you come."

The coil in your stomach snapped, pleasure washing over you in waves as you gasped his name. Your body clenched around him, and Brant groaned, his hips stuttering as he fucked you through it, coaxing you to ride the high for as long as you could.

"That’s it," he murmured, his lips pressing against your damp skin. "So fucking gorgeous like this… my perfect girl."

You barely had time to catch your breath before he lifted you just a little, angling you forward, keeping you pressed against his chest. The shift let you see everything—the way your body was still trembling from your orgasm, the way his cock was still buried deep inside you, the way he looked at you like you were something divine.

"One more, baby," he whispered, his voice almost pleading, his fingers stroking your clit again. "Let me worship you just a little longer."

And with the way he held you, the way he whispered sweet praises against your skin, you knew you’d give him everything.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[metaforikal]

Hi!! Would you be willing to write a scene with Brant with a shy, cat hybrid reader where brant pulls them to his lap and gently teases them?

I loved all your writings so far <33

𐙚 brant 𐙚

𐙚 brant loves his kitty kitty,, 𐙚

fluff, fluff, fluff, cat demi-human reader, gn reader.

thanks for the req nonnie <3 ! is it just me or are we lacking in brant fics? maybe i am not looking for it well enough but still, huhu! sorry it took soooo long, i was kinda busy (╥﹏╥)

fool's elysium was lively, filled with a cacophony of laughter and song. the troupe had just finished yet another successful performance at the town square of ragunna. the hustle and bustle of life offered a sweet distraction to the fools from their initial vexation of being casted away by the order, by the higher society. a place where fools, heretics, were not just toleratedーbut also celebrated.

brant exhaled, a contented smile played on his lips. his usual theatrical mask slipped away as he settled down beside his favourite person, [name]. they had been together since their first exile, small fingers intertwined tightly braving through the unforgiving tides and storms abroad the pilgrim sail. 

"you've been staring at me for awhile." your cat ears twitched. you had never been fond of lingering eyes on you, much rather staying by the side lines than being under the spotlight. unlike brant, who'd willingly jump into the middle of a spectacle to feel the whole world's gaze weight down upon him. 

"hmm, nothing much. just appreciating ya" he drawled, a look of adoration was in his eyes. no words could describe how much he loved and cherished the one that had stood by his side through thick and thin. you pouted, your fluffy cat tail swayed left and right lazily against the wooden plank of the dock. you're still not used to his flirtation, even after years together.

another sigh spilled from his lipsーsoft and dreamy. he had always loved seeing you all flustered due to his makings. "now, you're being way to cute for your own good y'know?" he nudged your side, making you huff out as a form of protest. he was no longer able to restrain himself so gently, he pulled you into his lap with effortless ease. all those years of fending his troupe from tacet discords lingering around penitent's end had turned him into quite the strong one. 

you could feel how fast your cheeks heated up, dusted in pink-colored freckles. words died on your lips, thoughts tangled and frozen lost in the overwhelming warmth of his embrace. 

your back was pressed firmly against his chest, the soft clinking of his accessories filled the otherwise quiet and intimate air. his strong, calloused hand kneaded the soft flesh of your waist, his chin rested on your clavicle. each slow, deliberate blow of his breath caressed the juncture between your neck and shoulderーa sensitive part of yours that is only known to him, only for him to exploit. 

"b-brant don't do that-!" a shaky mewl rolled off your tongue, breath hitched when he nipped onto the soft skin. oh how he loved gouging out your reactions to his affections, savouring each twitch and gasp from you. 

"who's a good kitty kitty~?" his voice was a low, teasing purr. if it were anyone else calling you like so you'd have their eyes skewered on your nails. but brant? brant knew you'd let it slide if it came from him, and he'd be damned he if didn't take full advantage of it. you didn't answer, of course, your ego wouldn't let you but it's not like he mind either way. 

your ears didn't go untouched, how could they? he couldn't just simply ignore how your ears flapped by each bated breath you took. he watched as they flicked at even the slightest movement he'd make. how could a man like him possibly resist?  “you're so unbelievably cute like this.” he hummed to himself. one hand lifted, ghosting his fingers over the soft fur before cupping one ear fully. the warmth that his palm offered sent a shiver down your spine, making you jolt ever so slightly in your seat.

“always so sensitive, you never make it easy for me, [name].” he hummed in pure amusement, laced with the satisfaction of discovering yet another weak spot.

and so, they spent their evening in each other's embrace. he had the look of a lovesick foolーbecause that was all he was. one hopelessly enamoured. in a distance, the faint echoes of the fool's troupe's merrymaking drifted through the air. but none of it mattered to him at the moment, not when he had you like this. 

"y'know, if i weren't already a fool, i'd still be one for you, willingly."

jumps around.. i finally got one done after being gone for awhile. so sorry ahhh!!!!!!!! i will get the other to work, ASAP!! i hope i did brant justice, he deserves all the love this world's got to offer (੭ ;´ - `;)੭ ♡

[gifimay]

16+ only

NSWF brant idea's/headcannon's

feel free to use these(and I actively encourage u to do so fanfic writers)

fem reader but can be imagined as male reader

tying up brant and pleasuring yourself in front of him or sucking his dick until he finally snaps, breaks through the ropes and either eats you out mercilessly or goes to pound town until you can't walk. (I slightly stole this idea from marzia98 on Ao3 from there fic Tides of Desire)

Being insecure so brant decides to tie you up with gold ropes he found on his adventures, through you on his piles of treasure as if your one of them, and then fuck you in front of a mirror. either not letting you cum(or not letting you stop cumming) until you admit just how perfect and beautiful you are.

my man brant would be so into roleplay, whats that? you've always wanted to be a princess? well guess what he's the pirate who kidnapped you, with the obvious goal of 'deflowering' you. Mermaid roleplay, siren roleplay, officer-criminal roleplay. all of it.

slight Exhibitionism kink(like only if he truly knows no one will find you guys, especially children) just the thought of it, not actually wanting it to happen.

shibari? likes it on you but will let you harness up his chest.

speaking of chest, can and will get revenge on you for always ogling and touching his. you'll definitely get your chest massaged and tortured as revenge.

despite all of this, I know damn well brant will always ask for consent, has a safe word, and will stop when you need him too. My man is a woman respecter.

and thats all i have.

authors note:sorry if this is badly written, I never really ever write smut even slightly so I don't have experience making that kind of content but these ideas sneak up on you so i had to make this.

[shangrila11]

Silver lining // Brant (Wuwa) x Reader

(Congrats to those for who pulled for this gorgeous man! For those who haven't, may all Brant wanters be Brant havers! :D)

(CW: Mention of alcohol towards the end)

Splash!

The cold ocean water enveloped you as you sunk. You frantically swam up to the surface. With your head bobbing above water, you looked around for anything to cling onto. Fortunately, there was a driftwood floating not too far away from you. You swam towards it and struggled to hold onto it for dear life against the turbulent waters. You shivered, feeling your eyelids drooping but you tried to stay awake.

Just then, you spotted a ship. In a hoarse voice, you called for help but you weren't sure if the people on board could hear you over the howl of the wind. Your eyes slowly shut, exhaustion finally getting the best of you, and everything went dark...

xxx xxx

" -- alright?"

"I can feel a pulse so hopefully they are. Hey, can you hear me?"

You slowly opened your eyes. Two figures looked at you in concern. One was a male with short teal hair, purple eyes and a feathered hat and the other was a female with long, two-toned hair tied in bunches and heterochromia. The two of them heaved a sigh of relief seeing you had regained consciousness.

"You're awake! How are you feeling?" the male asked, smiling.

"W--what happened?" you mumbled, disorientated. You combed through your memories, trying to remember what had happened before you lost consciousness. When you finally remembered, you asked if they were the ones who rescued you.

"That's right. Lady Luck smiled upon you. You were suffering from hypothermia. If we came any later -- "

It was then that you realised that you were covered in layers of blankets and was wearing a new change of clothes. They must had done that to alleviate your hypothermia. A warm feeling coursed through you at the thought. The male shook his head, his smile fading for a brief moment before returning. "Anyway, we've made some soup for you. I'll go get it. While I'm at it, is there anything else you need?" You shook your head.

"No, I'm good. Thank you --?"

"Ah, yes. Where are my manners?" the male took off his hat and bowed. "I'm Brant, captain of the Troupe of Fools. And she's Roccia, my First Mate." Roccia shyly nodded her head in greeting which you reciprocated.

"Thank you, captain," you smiled weakly. You introduced yourself to him and Roccia.

"A pleasure to meet you, (Y/N)," Brant grinned. "I'll go now. Rest well. If you need anything, Roccia will be here." You watched as he exited the room, leaving just you and Roccia. An awkward silence filled the air. You hesitantly asked about the well-being of the people who had boarded the same ship as you. Roccia informed you that they had rescued a few people who might be them, much to your relief. You were, of course, devastated that some could not be found but at least there were survivors. The two of you moved on to other topics and you even got to meet the adorable Pero.

Brant eventually came back with the soup. You gratefully took the bowl and had some of the soup. You nodded your head in approval.

"It's delicious," you remarked, having some more of it.

"Glad you like it," Brant smiled. His face turned serious. "I assume you and your crewmates were sent on a pilgrimage by the Order?" You nodded silently, hanging your head.

"I figure as much. Only those going on the Pilgrim's Sail would pass through there," the captain sighed. The corners of his lips curled into a grin. "Since you're already dubbed a Fool by the Order, why don't you join our Troupe?" You pondered for a moment. It wasn't like you had anywhere else to go anyway since you were essentially an exile. Besides, Brant seemed genuine. You nodded your head. The male's grin widened.

"Welcome aboard, (Y/N). I look forward to seeing your performance, both on stage and off stage."

xxx xxx

"What do you think, captain?"

"Impressive. You have a talent for script writing," Brant grinned, giving you a friendly pat on the back. "With that said, it could use a little tweaking to make the dialogue flow more naturally."

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind as I edit the script," you smiled bashfully, your heart fluttering.

"Splendid," the captain nodded, a twinkle in his eyes. "By the way, how is life with us so far?"

"It's been great so far. There's always something interesting going on and the people here are very welcoming. It helps that a few of my crewmates are here as well."

"Good, good," Brant smiled, his expression softening. "That reminds me -- " He snapped his fingers. In a burst of purple flames, a mask materialised. He handed it to you.

"For you, my friend. Roccia and I came up with the design and we think this best suits you. Now you're officially part of the troupe!" he grins. You took the mask from him, thanking him and remarking how gorgeous it looked. You attached it to your belt.

"My pleasure," the male bowed. "Come on. Let's go have lunch. All this work as captain has worked me up an appetite!" Taking your hand, the two of you headed to the dining area.

xxx xxx

"I'm sorry, you want me to what?"

"You heard me! I want you to play the lead role in our upcoming play," Brant beamed.

"B--but I've never done this before. What if I mess up?"

"That, my dear (Y/N), is what rehearsals are for!" the captain assured you. He looked at you sincerely. "I can't think of anyone more suitable for the role than you. Besides, don't you wanna act out the script you worked so hard on?"

"Well..." you considered for a moment before nodding. "Alright. I'll give it a go."

"That's the spirit!" Brant ruffled your hair. "Don't worry, I'll be here with you every step of the way." He winked. You smiled a little, anticipation bubbling inside you despite still having a little reservations.

"Aye, captain."

xxx xxx

You peaked out from the backstage. The audience was abuzz with excitement, chattering away. Your heart thudded wildly against your chest and your hands felt clammy with sweat.

"Is nerves getting to you, dear (Y/N)?"

You whipped your head around to see the captain, his usual easygoing grin on his face. You nodded.

"There are a lot of people out there. The last thing I want is to disappoint them and the troupe. What if they don't like my performance? What if I say the wrong lines? What if I --?"

Before you could continue, a familiar-looking hat was placed on top of your head. Surprised, your attention found its way back to the now hatless Brant. He gave you a gentle smile.

"Look. You've been doing wonderfully during rehearsals. Also, do you remember what we stand for?"

"Freedom and bringing laughter through tales."

"Mmmhmm. And to get the audience to enjoy themselves, we ourselves have to enjoy performing. So relax and have fun. You got this!" he winked. You smiled a little, feeling the tension in you loosening.

"You're right. I can do this. Thank you, Brant," you said softly. Brant took his hat from you and grinned.

"Then let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

xxx xxx

"To yet a successful show!"

The clinking of glasses resounded through the dining hall as everyone made a toast. Everyone was in high spirits, you could pratically feel it in the air. A broad smile crossed Brant's face. He lifted his glass once again.

"All of you did great tonight, from the actors to the backstage crew. It's because of everyone's efforts that the show was a success. Let's keep this up and may our future performances be just as spectacular or even more than this one! Cheers!"

Everyone raised their glasses, cheering. After taking a sip of his drink, the teal-haired male walked towards you.

"Amazing job earlier. Told ya you can do it!" he grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"Thank you. You did great as well," you beamed. It had still rather been nerve-wrecking at first but heeding Brant's advice helped. There were, of course, still areas of improvement such as your line delivery needing to be more smooth and expressive. With that said, you hadn't done too bad for your first performance if you did say so yourself. Overall, you were just delighted and relieved that your hard work had bore fruit.

"Glad that you like my performance!" Brant laughed heartily. His expression turned sincere. "Seriously though. I applaud you for being able to get over your nerves rather quickly."

"Haha. You flatter me," you laughed sheepishly, your cheeks flushing.

"But I mean it and it isn't the alcohol talking," the captain chuckled. The two of you then happily talked about other things, taking sips of your drinks in between.

"Nothing beats a good drink and good company on this fine, celebratory night," Brant remarked, swirling his drink. You nodded, sipping your drink.

"Yeah. I look forward to more of this," you beamed. Brant returned your smile.

"Same here," he agreed. Hearing Tina calling his name, he excused himself and told you to enjoy the rest of the celebrations. You assured him that you would. You smiled, watching him leave. Despite having the misfortune of becoming an exile, a couple of good things came out if it: meeting the captain and finding a group of people whom you could call family.

[dainahlai]

"Woah, how did you get here?" A teasing voice, sounding from behind you as you turn instinctively, soul jumping out of your heart before you finally notice the source of the sound. Brant, I.e. the love of your life. A stutter claws at your throat, lips trembling–you look away hastily, before inevitably turning back to admire him again. "Are you going to answer me..?"

"Uhm, yeah! Uh, I, I'm.. I don't know?.." Just as you're about to answer, it strikes that you're just as clueless as him in this whole situation. So as always, you offer a nervous grin, shrugging your shoulders.

He just laughs.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63856075

Oneshot of Brant/Reader fanfiction. Idk why I wrote this bye.

[xichilie]

i was the one who requested hurt/comfort Brant fic. THANK YOU FOR GRANTING MY REQUEST&FEEDING MY DELULU(≧ᗜ≦) (sorry for bad english huhu T^T)

And I'm here for requesting again! Wdyt abt Brant take care over his spouse who's got very very very drunk, but his spouse who's usually calm&quiet now becomes all flirty and touchy here&there (giving him ton of kisses on his face)? And Brant's response? He's become a COMPLETELY BLUSHING MESS! Head empty bcs how clingy and affectionate she became!

But if you have another scenario let's go with yours! I just wanna see him nervous with red face honestly (sorry /j). That's all! Thank you again pookie! May your Brant&his weapon come early♡!

TOMORROW, OUR BOY WILL FINALLY HAVE HIS BANNER

I wish you and all Brant wanters, Aventurines luck. All brant wanters will be brant havers 😌🤍

_____

Drunk on Love

The fires in Fool’s Elysium burned bright, casting flickering gold across the cavern walls as the Troupe of Fools celebrated another successful performance. The air was thick with laughter, the scent of roasted meat and spiced wine swirling between the revelers, and Brant was, as usual, at the center of it all.

“And then, as the guards closed in, I told them, ‘Ah, but gentlemen, surely you wouldn’t lay hands on a humble man of the arts!’” Brant spun dramatically, arms flaring out. “And just as they hesitated—boom! Gone in a puff of smoke!”

The crowd around him erupted in laughter and cheers, toasting his theatrics. Brant grinned, preening under the attention—until something, or rather someone, latched onto him from behind.

Warm arms wrapped around his waist, a face pressed into his back, and a voice—soft but undeniably intoxicated—murmured, “Brant.”

He barely had time to react before Y/N, usually so calm and composed, turned him around and clung to him.

Brant blinked. “Oh.”

Y/N was flushed, her expression dreamily affectionate, her grip firm as she buried her face against his chest.

“…Oh,” Brant repeated, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Well, well, what do we have here?”

He tilted her chin up, gazing down at her with playful curiosity. “Darling, you look like you’ve had quite the generous helping of wine. Enjoying yourself, are we?”

She pouted. “Mmhmm. But you—�� She poked his chest. “You talk too much.”

Brant gasped theatrically. “Me? Talk too much? Impossible.”

Y/N squinted at him like she was trying to solve a great mystery, then sighed dramatically. “You’re so pretty,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Not fair.”

Brant chuckled. “I can’t say I disagree—”

Before he could finish, she cupped his face and kissed his cheek.

Brant’s brain stuttered.

The surrounding Fools whistled and hooted, but Brant barely heard them. He was too busy trying to process the fact that Y/N—reserved, steady, unshakable Y/N—was pressing soft, lingering kisses along his jaw, moving dangerously close to his mouth.

He stiffened, heat rushing to his face. “Y-Y/N—”

Another kiss, this time right at the corner of his lips.

Brant squeaked.

His usual charm crumbled. He, Brant—smooth talker, silver-tongued rogue, shameless flirt—was suddenly incapable of forming a coherent sentence.

“Alright, alright, I think someone needs a little fresh air,” he managed, voice pitched slightly higher than usual.

Without waiting for her response, he swept her into his arms, ignoring the smug looks and snickers from the others as he carried her toward his quarters.

Y/N only hummed contentedly, resting her head against his shoulder. “You smell nice.”

Brant stumbled.

The journey through the winding tunnels of Fool’s Elysium had never felt so long. By the time he reached his private space—an alcove filled with scattered notes, fabrics, and an absurd number of pillows—his heart was pounding.

He set her down gently, exhaling. “Alright, darling, let’s get you settled—”

But Y/N didn’t let go.

Instead, she tugged him down with surprising strength, pulling him onto the cushions beside her.

Brant let out a very ungraceful sound as he landed, his back hitting the soft bedding, and before he could react, Y/N straddled his lap.

Brant stopped breathing.

She leaned in, her fingers tracing his collarbone before sliding lower, over the fabric of his shirt. “You’re so handsome,” she murmured.

Brant’s brain was gone. Utterly, completely gone.

“Y-Y/N—darling, you—you’re very drunk right now,” he stammered. “I think you should rest—”

She ignored him, her fingers working at the buttons of his shirt. His breath hitched as she pushed the fabric aside, exposing the faint, intricate glow of his Tacet mark against his skin.

Y/N’s eyes widened in wonder. Gently, reverently, she traced the mark with her fingertips.

Brant whimpered.

No one ever touched his Tacet mark. It was sacred, sensitive, and yet here she was, mapping every line and swirl with delicate fingers. His entire body tensed, his skin burning under her touch.

“Y/N,” he choked out. “If you—keep doing that—I might actually die.”

She giggled. Giggled.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” she mused.

Brant let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a groan and a laugh, dragging a hand over his face. “Oh, you are never going to let me live this down, are you?”

She beamed at him, and gods, she was beautiful.

Then she kissed his forehead.

His breath caught.

Then his nose.

His heartbeat thundered.

Then both his cheeks, her lips soft and warm, her hands cradling his face like he was something precious.

Brant shattered.

“Alright, that’s enough, you dangerous woman,” he rasped, his voice uneven. With a dramatic flourish (that was only slightly desperate), he flipped them over, pinning her beneath him.

Y/N gasped, blinking up at him with wide, hazy eyes. “Brant?”

He smirked, though his face was still bright red. “My turn.”

He leaned down—slowly, deliberately—and pressed a single, lingering kiss to her forehead.

Her breath hitched.

Then, with exaggerated care, he kissed her nose.

Her fingers curled into his shirt.

Then, finally, finally, he brushed his lips against her cheek, just barely, before pulling back with a triumphant grin.

“How’s that for theatrics, darling?” he teased.

Y/N’s face was scarlet.

Brant chuckled, pleased with himself—until she pulled him down again, burying her face against his chest with a sleepy sigh.

“Warm…” she mumbled. “Stay.”

Brant softened.

He sighed dramatically but wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin atop her head. “You are going to be the death of me,” he murmured, but there was no heat behind the words.

Y/N hummed in contentment. Within moments, her breathing slowed, her body relaxed against his, and she drifted into sleep.

Brant lay there for a long time, listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

“…I am so in love with you,” he muttered to himself, utterly doomed.

And for once, the ever-charming Brant had no idea what to do about it.

Brant had been in many thrilling, perilous situations in his life—performing daring acts on stage, conning pompous nobles, escaping armed guards, even staring down the Dragon of Dirge. But nothing, nothing, had ever left him as utterly helpless as this.

Y/N was clinging to him in her sleep.

Not just loosely holding onto him—oh no—she had wrapped herself around him, arms tucked beneath his coat, face pressed against his chest, and legs tangled with his own. She was warm, impossibly warm, her breath tickling his skin as she sighed contentedly in her slumber.

Brant was losing his mind.

His face was burning, his heart hammering against his ribs like a drumbeat in a grand performance. He had tried—tried—to gently pry her off when he had first realized the situation, but the second he moved, she had whined softly and only held on tighter.

He was doomed.

With an exaggerated sigh, he flopped back onto the cot, staring at the ceiling of his little cavern home. "This is my life now," he murmured to himself, though the complaint held no real weight.

He glanced down at her, a fond smile tugging at his lips despite his still-racing heart. Her expression was so peaceful, so utterly at ease. It made something deep in his chest ache.

Carefully—so carefully—he let his hand move, brushing along her back in slow, comforting strokes. She sighed again, nuzzling closer. Brant bit his lip, trying to suppress the giddy, ridiculous smile threatening to spread across his face.

"Oh, you’re dangerous," he whispered, shaking his head in amused defeat. "Too dangerous."

But as much as he should be trying to escape, he… didn’t want to.

For all his theatrics, for all his flair and bravado, Brant was a man who had gone years without a true place to belong. He had always been the fool, the outcast, the man who danced on the fringes of society. Yet here she was, clinging to him like he was something precious, like he was safe.

He swallowed hard, his fingers absentmindedly tracing small circles against her back.

Maybe, just this once, he’d allow himself to believe it.

With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax.

If this was the price of taking care of her, of having her trust him enough to cling to him even in sleep…

Then he would gladly let himself be tangled in her warmth for as long as she would have him.

[albedov]

i cant get brant's silly idle animation out of my head... him and his stupid orange...

brant who would peel oranges for you no questions asked.

but he wouldn't stop there, doing the bare minimum was not his speciality and it certainly wouldn't be for you - he has always been someone who would go above and beyond.

so if you ever asked him to peel an orange for you, he's going to do that and more. not only would he peel the orange, but brant would peel multiple - even if you didn't want all of it, he was a fan of them as well. each of which would be precisely cut into identical pieces, even removing the pith if you asked him too.

and brant certainly wouldn't skimp out of delivering it to you either. he's going as far as delivering to you on a plate with a small bow as he holds it out for you to take - the whole time, a bright small is plastered on his face.

and he'd cherish the time eating the oranges together with you just as much as he did peeling them for you - although you would have to admit that watching brant throwing the slices up in the air and trying to catch them in his mouth was more endearing than seeing him go to the lengths he went to for such a simple task in the beginning.

to brant, there was nothing he wouldn't do if you asked it of him. you were his partner and that meant that he'd never settle with doing the bare minimum for you.

[akutasoda]

Hiii can I request WuWa Brant x shy fem reader please?

the eccentric and the withdrawn

synopsis - brant with a shy s/o

includes - brant

warnings - fem!reader (no pronouns mentioned), fluff, slight crack, wc - 363

↪it was the classic scenario of two directly opposite people who happened to meet and get along against all differences between the two of you.

↪brant was always an eccentric person - it made sense for someone such as himself to be leading the troupe of fools. he was strong-headed, impulsive and even sometimes a bit witless.

↪whereas you were very much the opposite in terms of personality. your reservedness was reflective of your shy nature, preferring to keep to yourself and stay away from being the centre of attention.

↪fortunately, it was never impossible for opposites to get along and in some cases it worked better for a pair to be opposing of the other, which was why you and brant could be together.

↪the troupe of fools main aspect was their travelling performances, but you were always more of another observer which brant didn't mind in the slightest. he knew that you weren't the best cut out for that which was no problem.

↪some members of the troupe claimed that when brant knew you were there watching their performances, he actually became more “flashy” in a sense

↪and whether or not that was due to the fact that he wanted to try to impress you. or that when he knew you were watching, he felt more passionate about what he was performing.

↪brant was often “unrecognisable” when it was just the two of you. his usual outlandish nature melted away, and he took on a much more gentle demeanor.

↪it was his sign that he was cherishing his time with you, appreciating the smaller things with you. although you knew he still retained that erratic nature of his and showed it still, but that side of him was for you and you only.

↪additionally, if your shyness did include a bit of self-consciousness, brant was always there to knock those thoughts away. he would always assure you of the best and refused to let those thoughts to get to your head.

[sorinbds]

It's already going to be 12 at night and the only thing I can think about is Brant 😭😭😭and how I would sleep with you

Normally he always goes to sleep with you unless there is some celebration or it is the birthday of someone on the crew.

He usually wakes up early as he has to go wake up the other crew members to start the day.

On days when he gets drunk he becomes clingier and wakes up later than normal.

when they sleep he always has you in a hug that you can't free yourself from, everything gets worse when the baby literally climbs on top of you

[marragurl]

Get bored

Check back in on wuwa

Get invested in the current story

Remember about the like 4 characters you REALLY liked and enjoyed

Finish the current story

Crave more story and dynamic exploration

Open up ao3

The main tags are only Rover x *insert character here*

You remember you don’t really click with Rover as a self insert and wish to see legit ANY OTHER DYNAMIC

You close ao3

You move on to other things 

Time passes

Get bored

Check back in on wuwa

Repeat

[frostyresolve]

a lottie little too much ꒰ ᝬ brant

he gets drunk and decides to battle a bunch of lottie losts for your favor. 1.2k words. suggestive, fluff.

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧

he stumbles up to you, dancing on his feet as his boots touch the wooden floorboards. he won’t deny that he’s had a few drinks too many, his vision hazy as he surveys the troupe, glasses clinking and beer sloshing in cups at the celebration of a performance well done. even through the haze, he singles out you.

he calls out to you, leaning against the tabletop for balance. “you like the little rabbit things?” BRANT huffs, words incoherent somewhat as they tumble out of his mouth. they’re adorable, you can’t deny. especially the lottie lost in front of you playing the accordion; they’re quiet and compassionate echoes, more so than the ones you’ve encountered in the wilderness.

“they’re sweethearts,” you point out with a small smile, clearly taken by their cute mannerisms, the rabbit echoes clambering for your attention as they tried to outdo each other. what’s so special about them anyway? sure they could play instruments well enough, but they weren’t prodigies. how could you find them more interesting than him when they could only say two words?

he never should have suggested having echoes perform alongside the show if it meant every single drop of your attention would be spent on them and not him.

he practically growls, envy bubbling inside him. "just rabbit echoes... but they're cute... and you're petting them...”

“pet me... i’m cute too... i’m the captain." he hiccups, a hint of petulance in his voice.

scowling, his expression morphs into a mix of drunken annoyance and wounded pride. the sight of you lavishing attention on the bunny echoes was starting to get under his skin. you’re caught off guard as he clumsily climbs onto your lap, his body heavy against yours. his legs hooked around your hips as his arms grip your waist tightly, the sweet smell of alcohol lingering on his skin. "mmm...much better..." he hums, nuzzling his face into your neck. he clumsily tries to mimic the rabbit's voice.

"lottie lost, lottie lost…" he speaks suddenly, his words coming out slightly slurred and far from cute. there’s a pause, your gaze locked onto BRANT along with the other lottie lost rabbits who freeze at his words. he’s probably saying something atrocious in their language, but he can’t be bothered to care, staggering over to you and clinging onto you as he tries to imitate the echoes. he tries his best to mimic the rabbits again, his words barely understandable.

“lottie…lottie lost…” he keeps repeating in a sloppy manner, gripping your arm in his drunken stupor. the lottie losts continue to stare at him with their button eyes, their confusion growing with each attempt. it was probably coming off more like drunken babble than cute mimicry.

“what’re you doing?” you ask in confusion as his arms wrap around your waist. you can practically smell the alcohol wafting off him, the rich scent of aged grapes clinging onto his clothes. he never settled for anything but the finest wine after all, even if it left him with a hole in his pocket.

“lottie lost.” a rabbit calls in an attempt to attract your attention back as it waves its arms at you, probably craving your applause and validation.

you can feel his grip tighten around you, drunken logic taking over. he didn't like that you were paying attention to the rabbit echoes when he was right there, and in his state, he chooses to make the irrational decision to try even harder.

the words came out as a slurred mess, anything but similar to what a lottie lost would sound like. if the rabbits could make facial expressions, they’d probably be grimacing at the foul words leaving his mouth. “lottie... lost..." he mutters, his head drooping onto your shoulder. "need hugs... from you... not them..."

you’re not sure what else to do, trying to register the sight before your eyes, so you decide to state the obvious. “you’re drunk; how many bottles did you have?”

“mmm, not drunk…” he sings against your shoulder, his fingers clutching onto you with an iron grip. “a lottie lot. always drunk on you.”

he lifts his head, amethyst eyes hazy and unfocused. BRANT sees you clearly, though, clearer than any blue sky and brighter than any gem he’s ever encountered. “you’re... pretty. prettier than the rabbits. much prettier... and tastier. you taste better.” he slurs drunkenly, his words coming out without a second thought. you know he’s too far gone by now by what he’s spewing out without a care.

“a lottie lot…” you repeat in confusion; his words are merging, every sentence leaving his lips twisted with the name of those damned rabbits.

his face crinkles in confusion as you repeat the words back to him. his mind is too fuzzy with drunkenness to grasp what he’s said, and he just stares at you for a moment before breaking into a hiccupping laugh.

"lottie... lost count..." he repeats, chuckling as he leans heavily against you. his hand continues to roam your skin aimlessly, touch warm and lazy, heat radiating off his skin with each brush of his thumb on your cheek.

that’s when his lips brush against yours briefly, giving you any time to react. you’re stunned speechless when he pulls away, about to speak up, but the only sound leaving your mouth is a shocked gasp. his tongue dips into the hollow of your throat as he nuzzles his face closer into your shoulder.

he seems to take notice of your reaction, and so he responds by peppering more kisses along your neck, whatever he’s saying becoming more of a muffled hum against your skin. his hand on your back begins to explore more, trailing up your spine, before eventually resting on the back of your head, gently tilting it to the side to give himself more access to every expanse of your skin BRANT could find. x marks the spot where his mouth and teeth sink into your neck.

“can you walk?” you whisper, feeling your cheeks heat up as you clear your throat awkwardly when he finally pauses to catch his breath. he pulls away in a daze, swaying on your lap, holding onto you for dear life like you were anchoring him.

it seems like you’ve gotten your answer as his hand slips on the edge of the table, and he faceplants onto the deck of the ship unceremoniously when he tries to get up from your lap. curse you for letting him drink himself silly, not that he wasn’t silly before. his head hits the bottom of the table, letting out a whine as he rubs the side of his forehead before he practically crawls back to you.

you’ve never wanted to jump off the plank so much in your life.

“carry lottie…cuddles…” he coos, looking at you through half-lidded eyes as his body practically drapes over yours like a cape, causing you to stagger at the sudden weight pressing against you. he’s absolutely lost it; he’ll get teased in the morning when his hangover hits like an anchor crashing down onto him. he tugs on your sleeve, warm breath ghosting your neck, moist lips stained with wine trailing sticky kisses all over your exposed skin. if he were sober, he’d probably ask politely instead of gnawing at you like a dreadwolf. his balance is totally off-kilter, stumbling with each step as you make your way to his quarters.

maybe this was what BRANT wanted all along. for you to drag him back to his room. he’s not letting you leave soon, pulling you in the direction of his quarters when you open the door along with him.

he wants you to tumble right into his bed, right where you belong, to keep your captain lottie lost company.

© FROSTYRESOLVE 2025. DO NOT PLAGIARISE, REUPLOAD OR FEED MY WORKS INTO AI

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

hear me out on Merman! Brant x Pirate! Reader 🤭🤭

𖤐 tws : nsfw/smut, fingering, creampie, nipple play, clit play, biting, slight dubcon, spanking, tit slapping, chocking and others.

𖤐 note : omfd a brant thirst??? I miss writing about wuwa!! also art banner is by rororo_mg on X & not proof read!

The salty sea breeze howled outside as the pirate ship rocked gently on the waves. Below deck, in the dim, candle-lit cabin, a thick tension hung in the air, pulsing with every beat of your heart. The shadows were your only company, but you could feel his presence before you even saw him—Brant, the merman, his eyes like predatory jewels, watching you from the darkness.

You stood at the edge of the room, fingers grazing the smooth, polished wood of the table, your body tense with anticipation. The silence was thick, a challenge hanging between you both.

Brant finally moved, his lithe body gliding effortlessly from the shadows, his merman tail flicking lazily behind him. His glistening, silvery scales shimmered in the half-light, and his eyes glowed with an intensity that sent a thrill through your spine.

“You've been asking for this,” he said, his voice low and seductive, a warning and a promise all at once. “But be careful what you wish for.”

Without warning, he was upon you, his large hands gripping your wrist and pulling you forward with such force that your breath caught in your throat. His lips were on yours instantly, devouring you like you were his prey. It wasn’t soft or gentle—it was desperate, hungry. His tongue slid into your mouth, tasting you, claiming you. You moaned into the kiss, hands tugging at his shirt, wanting to feel the heat of his skin. His other hand grabbing your ass giving a playful slap making you squeak.

Brant pulled back just enough to smirk, his hand reaching up to curl around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your pulse race. “You think you can play with me?” he growled, his lips grazing your neck as he held you there, the pressure of his grip leaving you breathless.

“I don't think... I know,” you gasped, a wicked grin on your lips.

He chuckled darkly, his grip tightening slightly as his other hand trailed down your body, rough fingers pinching your nipple through your shirt. You gasped, your body reacting to the harshness of his touch. His thumb swirled over the sensitive bud, drawing a sharp moan from your lips.

“Like that?” he murmured, his voice vibrating against your skin.

You could only nod, your legs shaking as he leaned in, his lips finding your nipple and sucking greedily. You felt the sharp sting of pleasure, mixed with the tug of his hand still pressing on your throat. Each breath was a struggle, but each touch, each moment, felt electric.

He stopped suddenly, lifting you effortlessly by your waist and throwing you onto the bed with a growl. “Get on your back,” he commanded, his voice thick with authority.

You obeyed, heart racing, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Brant loomed over you, his merman tail wrapping around your leg, holding you in place. He gazed down at you with a predatory glint in his eyes before pushing you back into the mattress, his hand moving to your throat again, choking you more forcefully this time as he lined himself up.

“You're mine now,” he hissed, before slamming into you, taking you with no mercy.

The force of his thrusts knocked the air out of you, but it was everything you craved. He didn’t let up, fucking you hard and fast, his cock thrusting into your dripping pussy. Your walls clenching around his cock as he groaned, his hand still squeezing your throat in rhythm with his movements. The world spun around you, his every thrust sending waves of pleasure and pain that had you gasping for air, unable to think about anything except the burning need to have him.

Brant’s other hand found your other boob, giving it a sharp slap before squeezing it roughly as he pinched your nipple, twisting it, making you gasp and moan louder. His tail flicked around your thigh, tugging you deeper into his thrusts of his cock, as if he wanted to own every inch of you.

“You like this, don’t you, pirate?” he growled, his grip tightening around your neck as he fucked you with relentless intensity.

You could barely speak, your body overwhelmed by the pleasure and the possessiveness in his voice. Your hands clawed at his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing more, wanting all of him.

He smirked, tightening his grip one last time, before slamming his cock into you harder, making your vision blur with the force of it. The pressure in your chest built until it became too much, a wave crashing over you, making you gasp out in pleasure and desperation. The world tilted, and you came all over his cock, milking it, your body shaking under him, completely lost to the sensation.

Brant didn’t stop, though—he kept fucking you relentlessly, his lips capturing yours once more, swallowing your cries. His hand finally released your throat, but the connection between you remained unbroken, his movements still as brutal and deep as ever, driving you both toward the edge again.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire as he continued to take you, his merman tail twitching with each thrust, marking you as his own while his fingers gently pinched your clit.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[the-way-astray]

What if Alvar had a human girlfriend

i knew it was only a matter of time before someone brought this concept up . . . okay maybe i am just the wrong person to bring this idea to because i hate alvar but. i do not like this idea at all

first of all . . . is this how it's going to come out that i. just. do not like the idea of human-elf romantic relationships in kotlc. yeah . . . sorry . . . no hate to people that ship like amy with one of the triplets or something but it is simply not my thing lmfao. i joke about finitar occasionally (like. very occasionally) but it's mostly a joke. with very few exceptions (*cough* jurdan *cough*) i personally don't like cross-species romance in fantasy

i am going to talk about this in a separate post but alvar being so ready to be humanity's number one defender in unraveled is such an out of nowhere left turn from the way his character has been for the rest of the series that it makes no sense. his entire attitude in unraveled, including what he said about the matchmaking system, is also completely out of nowhere and forced. it does not fit with pre-unraveled alvar and honestly unraveled alvar is, simply put, not pre-unraveled alvar. that is not the same character. i know people are arguing it's a redemption arc and whatnot (which i've already talked about) but it's hardly even an arc; it's literally a before and after with nothing to bridge the gap. shannon does this a lot with her characters so i'm not surprised. even his personality and the way he talks isn't the same as it was pre-unraveled

why is this relevant? well if alvar, by all accounts, shouldn't be such a human lover (at least not without a proper arc), then him having a human girlfriend is also ridiculously out of character. i cannot see him getting to a point where he learns to respect humanity, although unraveled spends half its time trying to convince us that he does. it is so so so so incredibly forced that i personally cannot see him with a human in any capacity at all

yeah i'm going to make a longer post about my problem with alvar in unraveled after i finish my unraveled reread i'm in the middle of but for right now my take is: interesting concept, i guess? i'm not a fan

[gifimay]

brant headcannons pt2

brant who would call you princess and kiss your knuckles while on one knee

brant who would hold your chin with his hand before smirking and kissing you

brant who would drown you in butterfly kisses and laugh when you try to squirm away

brant who would convince a bunch of echos to pretend to kidnap you and take you to a surprise party he threw for you

brant who would wink at you all the time for no reason whatsoever

brant who would put a lot of effort into hygiene for you(pirates usually didn't have good hygiene due to not having the supplies for it) because he doesn't want to smell bad around you

brant who would either be the most confident flirty motherflipper ever or the awkwardest little guy around you. depends on the day(and how drunk he is)

brant who would do that cheesy thing where he says he can hold the whole world in his hands and cup your cheeks, claiming 'your his whole world'

brant who would absolutely dance with you, doing ball dances and twirls

brant who wouldn't mind if you didn't really want children, I actually think he'd prefer to adopt, he'd rather give a home to children already in this cruel world.

brant who would cling to you in his sleep and wouldn't let go no matter how much you try to get out of his hold

brant who would give you hickeys not because he's jealous but because he loves the artistry of them

and brant who would turn into a soft cuddly marshmallowy mess whenever he's jealous. pouting like a hurt puppy until you turn your attention back onto him

(and thats all I got for now. more brant hcs probably soon. god damn do him and female rover have a hold on my heart.

have a good day/night/morning/evening!)

[lizziebrantt]

I make things big, I make em small. But hey, that doesn’t mean I’ll take your shit.