#c; barnabas

[valiisthea]

When Barnabas coughs, dust just comes out.

[valiisthea]

@lionheartedscout @equescaeli @dawnturnstodusk @astralechoes @bestboygav @fadedfirebird @nivaera @dweomerr @strykingshot @creatrix-mea @sanbrequoislily @axgmented @odinscreation @ignitedshield @fllameshield @cagedfirebird @poeticphoenix

"All I ever wanted was a heart that I could lay on and listen to for hours. Like let me lay there on you while you are sleeping, listening to you breathe. I would take pictures of you sleeping next to me."

[itsalwayssunnyinhollywood]

I was never really a fan of genderbends but an iasip genderbend has such good implications. My favorite of which is a male barbara impregnating a female bruce then gaslighting fran into thinking she's pregnant, stealing the babies from bruce, make fran think she is going into labor with the baby twins hidden in a bag or something and then paying off the docters to fake a birth. The thing is, I think any version of frank could have fallen for that.

[eldainspointyears]

hello thronebreaker fandom

[robo-writing]

(IDK if this went thru tumblr said there was some issue?) BUT, Reader as Barnabas' queen who has not provided an heir to the throne. After hearing some unsavory comments, Barnabas makes sure that his queen is bearing his child? :3c

God help anyone who disrespects his queen :p

Lord Tharmr was content to worship the very ground you walked on the day he met you. You plagued his thoughts, had his very soul in the palm of your hands, and if you so choose could have destroyed the King of Waloed. You, the girl who caught his eye on an afternoon stroll. You, who managed to pry open his ribcage and make his long cold heart beat once more.

The power you held over him was crushing, and what made him admire you more is that you never took advantage. Instead of smothering his fragile spirit you nurtured it, even offering your own in return. A gift undeserving of a monster such as him and yet you did so anyway.

Where his was blackened by nearly a century of battle, yours was pristine; lily white. A small part of him thinks it’s selfish to keep a gentle little thing to himself, but the greed in him couldn’t be happier that you choose to spend the rest of your days with him.

You spent your days and nights together, whether it be outside the castle or inside. For a long time you were a package deal, where one went the other was surely close behind, Sleipnir likening the two of you as a swan and it’s children. While Barnabas couldn’t find the humor in the joke, he remembers how fondly you smiled at the metaphor, and that was enough for him.

He looks back to those days fondly, but the memory that remains burned in his psyche is the day you walked up to him, held him in your smaller frame and looked up at him with lust in your eyes; the day you finally asked him to consummate your marriage. He had waited patiently, giving you as much time as you needed and making sure you were not pressured, but the look in your eyes when you asked, no, begged him to take you...

You awaken something in him, a beastly feeling, as if he was merely a spectator to his own body. He could attest to the symphony of moans that spilled from your lips the moment he brought you to his bed chambers, how you laid yourself bare for him to see, both embarrassment and arousal painted across your face. A landscape of soft skin and warmth, a canvas for him and him alone to paint. He treated you like the queen you were, and then some.

That was the day you truly became his, beyond a shadow of a doubt, but there was one thing you two were missing: an heir.

He expressed his desire for one, a sentiment you shared as well, but neither of you were in a rush. Just as he waited for your permission once, he can do so again. However, the same could not be said for his royal court. At least once a week he had someone mention when he would produce an heir, and for the longest time the answer would be the same.

“It will be done on my own time.”

And the answer seemed to satisfy them, until it didn’t. This was where he made his first mistake.

Perhaps hearing their king speak was enough, but some couldn’t fathom those same words leave your lips. Barnabas will be the first to admit: he did not take into account your experience.

One night you came into your shared room downtrodden, immediately he was at your side, a hand at your waist.

“What is wrong dear?” he asked, and with a shaky breath, you told him.

You told him about how cruel some members of the court were, about how you hadn’t “completed your wifely duties”, about you hadn’t done the “decency” of giving him a child. Their words rang loud, mocking you.

He sat and listened to your woes, apparently this is not the first you had heard this but you chose to spare Barnabas from their venomous words, believing you could handle it yourself. A controlled rage bubbles underneath his skin, at the audacity that anyone could have to disrespect his wife, at his own ignorance to his lover’s suffering. He would send Sleipnir to find the aggressors, but that comes later. For now, he had his dearest to attend to.

He holds you tight as you sob into his shoulder, tallying every hiccup and sniffle to ensure the perpetrators receive the same amount of lashings. When you’ve finally stopped shaking he wipes away your tears and kisses at your temple.

“Dearest, you should not listen to the words of snakes,” he says gently, although he can’t help the sneer on his face when he speaks of his court. “They are not worth the air needed to speak them, they mean less than nothing.”

A small part of you knows that, but the guilt makes its ugly head known. “But it’s true, isn’t it? I know how much you want an heir—“

“You misunderstand my love,” he interrupts. “I do not want an heir, I want a child. Our child.”

Barnabas holds your cheek as he speaks. “I would not have you give birth to a puppet to the throne, I want our child to be a culmination of us, a proof of our love.”

The same hand that held your face now rubs comforting circle across your stomach. The devotion in his eyes hypnotizes you, lost in his gaze.

“Should we ever have a child, I would want them to be like you,” he admits.

The sentiment tugs at your heart. A huff of air escapes you, one that turns into a chuckle as Barnabas plays with your hair.

“There you are, that smile I know and love,” he whispers. “I would hope that she has that same smile.”

“She?” You ask.

“Our daughter, of course.”

Your face heats up. “And what if it was a boy?”

“Then I would hope he has your compassion.”

Your silence is adorable. You play with your fingers, eyes falling to the soft linens all to avoid his gaze.

“Does that mean you’ve entertained the idea? Of a little one running down the castle halls?”

You still don’t look at him, but nod in agreement. “I have, for a while, but I felt that you were so busy with the blight that the last thing on your mind would be fatherhood.”

“I am never too busy for you,” he says. “If you wish it, we may start now.”

And once again, that beastly feeling rises in him when you nod your head. In the time it takes for him to capture your lips against his own, he realizes his second mistake: not placing his claim on you sooner. Between making a home between your legs and swallowing your moans, only one thought runs through his mind.

“You will make a wonderful mother, my dear.”

.

[valiisthea]

"Kill you?" Barnabas scoffs softly, clearly amused by the suggestion. While he can see how she comes to such a conclusion, he finds it utterly ridiculous. "That would be a rather pitiable waste, Leviathan."

No, death is not yet in her cards. Perhaps once she is no longer of use, he could dispose of her - but until then, he needs her wholly unharmed so that she may provide her powers to Mythos.

"No, I will not kill you. However, I will be taking you back to Waloed. I highly suggest you not resist, it will not end favorably for you."

He grabs hold of her wrist, grasp perhaps a bit too tight, and yanks the girl to her feet. Sleipnir, still in his horse form, offers a small snort in recognition. Barnabas idly pats his horse's nose, before slipping back into Odin and hoisting himself and Leviathan up onto Sleipnir's back.

"Hold on tight, my dear."

Tried as she might, her legs no longer had the strength to cooperate, and before long, Amelia felt his presence getting closer, a presence so shrouded in darkness that it practically suffocated her.

If only she had been more careful. Had she just continued to isolate herself, perhaps she wouldn't be running from the warden of darkness, the mad king himself. She tried to crawl away, but she could feel him practically on top of her. Escaping was no longer an option.

A shaky breath escaped her as she turned toward him, trying to scoot away but not getting very far. If only she had better control of her powers, to somehow tap into Leviathan in the hour of her need...

But there was nothing. Only the shimmering feeling in her chest that sensed the other Dominant. Amelia could only stare back into the wild eyes of Barnabas Tharmr.

"I... I'm not afraid of you," she managed a raspy reply. "If you want to kill me, just get it over with."

[fllameshield]

[Continued from Here]

The situation they were faced with now, all melted away as he stared down into the other's eyes. His enemies, former Master, and everything else mattered not in this moment. It was merely just the two of them, and he had him right underneath; a pleasant, welcoming sight. Even if the other disapproved, Barnabas was finding himself quite excited to be in this position.

He ignored the shoved that this one tried to give to his shoulders, leaning down to wrap his fingers around the young man's throat. Giving it a firm squeeze, he smirked, feeling so confident that he had him beat. Of course he did.

"Good boy... How you struggle, and fight with all your might. You will need this for what lies ahead. Ultima will not be kind. Will not be gentle. He will take, and take, until you are nothing but a shell of your former self..."

@taleswritten

[widowshill]

victoria winters

[adams-r1b]

(detail from the San Barnaba Altarpiece (c. 1488) by Sandro Botticelli)

[valiisthea]

There is a surge of pride that flows through Barnabas the moment his words hit their mark. Dion's reaction is immediate and everything he hoped it would be - desperate, angry, and scared.

Humans and their unnecessary attachments to one another. Even now, could Dion not see how easily such weaknesses can be exploited - like fingers curling into the crevices of an open wound and pulling?

Love is a liability. This is a lesson Barnabas believes Dion will not soon forget.

"Oh, but who said anything about settling scores? If it was a fight I yearned for, then we would be long into the throes of battle by now."

Barnabas carefully slides a dagger out of the sheath at his side, testing the weight of it in his hand. Such weapons are not his specialty or preference, but the cool steel is not unfamiliar against his skin. It will serve this purpose far better than any sword his hand may long to hold.

"You have a greater purpose in this world, Bahamut. I would have you listen to my tale, and think the dagger and your precious knight only as tools of persuasion should you choose to defy your fate."

Dion's lips pull into a thin line as he listens to the other man. Indeed, there is naught much that he can do, bound as he is, but that means not that he has to render his all unto Odin without a modicum of defiance, at least. No, he won't allow the other the pleasure of drawing aught from him easily. The threat aimed at someone else gives Dion pause.

He. Terence ━ ?

Dion feels his heart skip a beat. Oh, he doubts not that his love searches for him, that he and their dragoons are moving heaven and earth to find but a trace of their prince. But such is only natural. Why, then, does Odin seem so certain that there is one single man that can make his resolve crumble? How can he know? However, it matters not. The mere thought that the King would seek to harm Terence has him revolt, thrashing against the shackles in spite of the bruises formed around his wrists.

"You honorless, cowardly wretch! If you seek to settle a score with me then face me properly...!"

[valiisthea]

I have the jitters before this procedure so here are some Barnabas thoughts.

No, he is not attracted to his mother. I do have a sense of humor, though, so jokes aren't going to irritate me. But my Barnabas had a very loving relationship (albeit a little...rocky) with his mother. She chose to raise her child in a cult and that's on her, but she loved her boy and he loved her. He was very loyal to her. She is the only person who has ever made him FEEL.

So when she passes away, and Barnabas finds himself awakening as Odin, it makes sense for him to trauma-build a person that CANNOT leave him. Enter Sleipnir. Built of trauma and necessity. Cannot die and leave him. Will always be loyally at his side.

He has not forged close bonds with anyone else. No matter how many people warmed his bed - none of them moved his heart.

So yes, he does crave the warmth and comfort of a mother's touch. He does wish to lay his head down in someone's lap and have his hair gently pet. He craves that feeling of warmth and safety - but he would never look for it in another human. Maybe Sleipnir, but purposefully choosing a human would be nigh impossible.

That doesn't mean he wouldn't accidentally grow feelings and emotions for someone. He's still human deep deep DEEEEEP down in his chest. It's possible, just improbable.

For this reason, I have modified him ONLY SLIGHTLY to make writing with him a bit easier. And I mean very barely slightly. Still do not hold expectations of him.

Ultima and Mythos are his purpose. His mother is his love and whatever is left of his heart. That is why she is an effective reward from Ultima when Barnabas is a "good boy."

He is not in love or lust with his mother. He is an 18 year old scared boy who just watched her be murdered in front of him that loves and misses her dearly. She was all he ever had.

[pluvpluvpluv]

Catnap

18+ || MDNI || Content Warnings: Language probably because it's me but otherwise this is just hopefully adorably disgusting fluff, MC is also very anxious and worried about where her boyfriend went off to

Word Count: ~1.0k

Sebastian Sallow x f!MC x Ominis Gaunt

A/n: A silly little Drabble to contribute to the collective catnip prompt. Enjoy Omi scaring the shit out of his partners

~~~~~

MC felt like she had scoured the entire castle at this point. She had finished her NEWT exam, taking longer than both of her boyfriends, and now one was missing. Huffing, she ended up in front of the fountain in Central Hall. She perked up slightly, seeing a familiar tuft of brown hair moving towards her, but she deflated when she realized Sebastian Sallow was alone and not accompanied by the third member of their triad.

“He hadn’t gone back to your dorm?” She wrung her hands together, starting to grow worried over the whereabouts of Ominis Gaunt.

Sebastian shook his head, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “No he hadn’t. But we’ll find him, love. There’s one spot neither of us checked yet and I’m certain that’s where he is.”

She was silent as she allowed Sebastian to lead her up to the seventh floor, and he gave her a reassuring smile once the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy came into view.

“Of course,” she thought, a relieved smile settling on her face.

She had shown both boys her version of the Room of Requirement, and she had also informed them how they could access it without her, at the end of their sixth year. The trio had spent many days and nights utilizing it for studying for the test they just finished, and promptly destressing with the beasts in the vivariums or in the bedroom that the room so graciously provided after they had all slept on the floor and woken up with aching bones.

As they walked into the familiar room, MC deflated when her missing boyfriend wasn’t on the main couch. He wasn’t in the bed they’d share either, where she was hoping to find him cozy and wrapped up in blankets.

Sebastian knew exactly where they’d find Ominis as soon as he had realized the blond would be in their Room. He waited patiently for MC to check their bed before he offered a hand to her.

“C’mon, love. You didn’t actually think he’d pick a bed over his favorite room, hmm?”

She tilted her head as she looked at him, but she took his hand regardless. The second they walked into the grassland vivarium, home of the puffskeins, nifflers, and mooncalves that MC had rescued over the last three years, all of her previous anxieties melted away.

Usually, when any of the three of them entered, the beasts swarmed them eagerly looking for a brushing and some other attention. Today, however, none of them left the picnic blanket that was laid out in the middle of the green field. Though, ‘blanket’ felt like too small a descriptor. It was almost like a ship’s sail with how large it was. Laying in the middle of everything else, with none other than The Irondale Pilferer on his stomach, slept Ominis. MC grabbed Sebastian’s arm tightly, resisting the urge to ruin the scene in front of them.

“Oh he looks so peaceful,” she murmured, looking up at Sebastian with wide eyes. “I-I mean it would be rude of us to wake him, no?”

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “After the stress he put you through, and then the stress that you put me through? No. He can wake up for five minutes. He falls asleep like it’s nothing.”

He practically dragged MC towards the blanket, letting her go to squat down and rub at his boyfriend’s chest and shoulder.

“Ominis. Wake up, darling,” he crooned softly, not wanting to startle him awake. His smile widened when he was graced with the sight of his favorite shade of blue. “There you are. Hello, sleepyhead. We searched the whole castle for you, you know.”

The blond simply made a soft grunt in acknowledgment as he sat and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The niffler that was forced to relocate seemed to huff in annoyance, moving to curl up in the corner where his mate was basking.

“What do you mean you searched the whole castle for me? I only just got here.”

“No, darling, we couldn’t find you after I finished my exam. I got worried. We were supposed to meet in the courtyard.”

He turned towards MC’s voice, his cheeks flushing a lovely shade of pink.

“Oh. Right. I suppose I forgot. I just wanted some time with the creatures after NEWTs. I only meant to come up for a moment.”

“It’s alright. We found you. Sebastian claims he knew you’d be here when he didn’t find you in your dorm. I was less convinced.”

MC moved so she could rest her head on Ominis’ shoulder. His arm immediately wrapped around her waist and he pressed a kiss to her head. It made sense that she’d be more worried out of his two partners. She still carried that anxiety that people were after her from fifth year, and that concern now applied to him and Sebastian now as well.

“I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s alr–” she was cut off by a yawn, and she instinctively moved herself closer to Ominis. “It’s alright. I can’t blame you. I think you might’ve had the right idea.”

Sebastian chuckled, now sat on Ominis’ other side, and his arm went around the blond’s waist.

“We realize that you’ve already gotten a bit of a cat nap in, Omi, but perhaps you could indulge us and we could all take a nap.”

He promptly moved and laid down, offering himself up as a pillow and collecting his and MC’s discarded robes to be his own. MC grinned, laying down on Sebastian’s chest and pulling Ominis down with her.

“Seb’s right. We’ve worked hard. Our academic careers are over. We’ve earned one last nap in our place.”

Ominous shook his head, but he couldn’t fight the smile that graced his lips when they teamed up against him. He moved closer to MC, throwing an arm over her as he felt Sebastian’s hand tangling in his hair.

“I suppose another nap won’t hurt. We don’t have anywhere else to be.”

In the warmth of the sun and the comfort of each other, the three eventually drifted off.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 18 - Instrument

@jegulus-microfic March 18 Word count 740

Previous part First part

They wandered through the deserted corridors of Hogwarts Castle, after Sirius and Remus, up to the seventh floor. They stopped beside the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and his disastrous attempt to teach trolls ballet. 

“Right, everyone stand still and try not to think anything too hard,” Sirius ordered as he started to pace back and forward, muttering under his breath with his eyes screwed shut. 

Regulus opened his mouth to ask Sirius what he was playing at when a door began to materialise in the previously blank stretch of wall. 

Sirius stopped moving and grinned at the others. “May I introduce you to the Room of Requirement!” He gestured proudly at the door behind him. He flung the door open, and they filed in. 

The room beyond was enormous. Piles of broken furniture towered to the ceiling in precarious piles, and mountains of other lost treasures and broken objects littered the room.”

“It’s like a dragon’s nest,” Lily said, awed by the amount of stuff in the room. “A dragon that hoards rubbish instead of treasure.”

“Pretty shit, dragon.” Barty cackled as he peered into one of the closest piles and drove his hand into the middle of it. 

“Barty, you’re gonna knock it over!” Evan cried as he uselessly fluttered his hands in the air, not wanting to touch Barty in case he caused the pile to topple. Barty pulled his hand back, bringing with it a strange horn-like instrument.

“I always wanted a Dissimulator, but father wouldn’t let me get one.” He blew on the end, and a loud, obnoxious blaring sound emitted from the end of the horn along with puffs of green and gold-coloured smoke. 

Regulus stormed over and took it from Barty’s hands.

“No,” He said angrily. He went to throw it as far as he could into the room, but James grabbed it from his hand before he could. 

“Don’t be mean, Reg,” Regulus turned and glared at James. 

“If we don’t stop him now, he will play that thing until the day he dies just to annoy us.”

“He’s not wrong.” Barty snickered, not expecting to get his new toy back. Regulus grumbled. 

“You can have it back once we have the diadem and are safely back at Rosier House.” When he didn’t get any objections, he continued. “Right, do we all know what the diadem looks like?” Everyone nodded their heads, full attention on Regulus. “Okay, It’s somewhere in this room, so let’s find it.” 

They split up, searching their sections for the adornment. 

“Regulus!” Remus called across the room. They all immediately rushed over to where Remus had stopped. There, on top of an old cupboard worn by the bust of an unknown warlock in a dusty wig, sat the diadem. 

Regulus, Remus and Lily took over, forcing the others away so they could check for curses. Lily cast a few more charms that Regulus and Remus hadn’t thought of and decided together that it was probably safe to pick up. 

“I mean, it hasn’t been hidden very well, and it’s not been placed carefully. I feel like he might have been in a rush to get rid of it.” Lily thought aloud as Regulus reached to take the diadem from the bust.

“Helena could probably sense it and was trying to find him,” Pandora added, looking sadly at the beautiful tiara. 

“Bit sloppy, though,” Evan said as he squinted around the room. “Plenty of better hiding places to hide it in here, that,” He pointed at the bust. “Is a shit place to leave it.”

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—“ Barty started saying. 

“I swear if you say arrogant bastard one more time, I’m going to curse your dick off!” Regulus said over his shoulder at his friend. Barty moved his hands to cover himself and closed his mouth before quietly going to stand behind Evan. 

“Oi, don’t use me as a shield!” Evan complained.

Regulus turned the diadem over in his hands. It was definitely Ravenclaws. Engraved on it was Ravenclaw’s motto, ‘Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure.’ He pocketed it. 

“Let’s get out of here before we’re caught.” 

They cast their disillusionment charms before they left the room of requirement apart from James, who threw his cloak over himself again, and they left the room exactly as they found it less one diadem and to everyone’s, apart from Barty’s, disdain a Dissimulator.    

Next part

[fllameshield]

The trip was always so long, and was why he didn't like to travel much except for whenever business called. Shinra wasn't exactly pleasant to work with, but they kept up with their bargain for all these years, and he would simply deal with the boring travels. At least, now, he had company that was more appreciated than any he's ever had in the past. A glance down, looking into those brilliant eyes, Barnabas smirked at all of his wants being spoken aloud.

"Waloed is a place always ready for war, should it need to be. We were once all on the mainland, before it became more strategic to be surrounded entirely by water. If any dared to set foot on our lands, during those times, they would be given a welcome fit for trespassers." He sighed, remembering those days like it were just last week, and how his blood still simmered for the want of a fight. "Though, with Shinra and their SOLDIER program, effectively we were put in a place of surrender. I cannot argue on the positives, at least, because it has given us all time to reflect."

@phantasiiae

@fllameshield

Sleipnir is unsure as to why they're suddenly so nervous. Perhaps it is because they know nothing about the world outside of Midgard. What they know of Waloed is...very little, but that shouldn't be a surprise considering how isolated it is from the rest of the world. Leaving feels miraculous, like a sudden weight has been lifted from their shoulders. While the loss of Sephiroth still stings, grief not being something they're used to, they still manage to press on, despite it.

The swaying of the boat, however, makes them feel less than ideal, and so they've spent most of the journey clinging to Barnabas. Right now, they lay in bed with him, their head resting on his chest. They don't know what to expect once they reach their destination, but it's still exciting.

"Tell me more about Waloed," they murmur, glancing up at him. "You have to tell me everything. Your customs, what the people are like, how you live...if I am to be your consort, then I need to know all of these things."

[robo-writing]

NSFW Alphabet - Barnabas Tharmr Edition

Pairing: Barnabas Tharmr/Reader Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors DNI Author's note: Took me a while to get his manner of speech right, but I think I nailed it in the end. Warning for some more dark romance themes in this one, otherwise enjoy!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s clingy, preferring to lay in bed alongside you, indulging himself in your presence. Afterwards he’ll have one of the maids run a bath for the two of you, but until then you’re not leaving the bed for anything. Whatever you need it can wait, right now Barnabas needs you by his side and nothing else.

Stubborn as anything, he pins you to the bed. “And where exactly do you think you’re going?” He asks, as if you leaving his embrace is a betrayal. You don’t get a chance to explain yourself, silenced by his lips against yours. Sweet as they are, you pull away with a laugh, pressing your fingers to his chest. “I only wish for some water, is that too much to ask?” He buries his head in your neck, nibbling at the vast expanse. “Yes, it is.” 

“It’s only a short walk away!” You laugh.

He lays his head between your chest, peeking up at you with pale blue eyes. “Far longer than I could stand to be separated from you.” An arm snakes its way to your back, pulling you ever closer. “I will summon one of the handmaidens, but until then you will stay here, with me.”

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

If you ask him to choose he will look at you like you’ve grown feathers and a tail. What do you mean favorite? He loves everything about you, he’s not so simple to prioritize one thing above another.

He’d probably say his hands, because he gets a lot done with them. The same hands he uses to cut down foes is the same ones he uses to make you cum.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s coming inside of you, no questions asked. Don’t try to argue with him either, he’ll just fuck you until you’re too stupid to say no. Afterwards he’ll watch it drip out of you fascinated, might even finger it back inside.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Enjoys the idea of having you sat on his cock during especially boring meetings, your moans forcing the other council members to stop and take pause at your blissful expressions, spread open in a way only he could provide.

Of course he’s far too possessive to let such a thing happen, but a man can dream.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Has experience with bedding women for the sake of pleasure, but you’re the first woman that has caught his eye in a more profound way, made a dent in his bedsheets. It’s the first time he’s felt genuine love, and it took him a while to understand those emotions.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary or lotus position, close third would be cowgirl. Really anything that lets him hold you close.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very serious, do not try anything funny. Any attempts will be met with an ache that persists for days.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Does the bare minimum in terms of shaving, but if you ever mention it he’s making it a regular habit. He’d do anything for you as long as you asked him. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Initially he struggled with his emotions, didn’t quite understand why his heart picked up its pace when he looked at you or why your smile could lift him from the foulest of moods. He didn’t have a name for it, but he knew that he needed you more than he needed to breathe. When he finally understood that this yearning for you was love, he was quick to express that.

The power you have over him is something so grand, so tangible he would kiss the very ground you walk on if it pleased you so. Sex with him isn’t an act, it’s devotion; sweet and simple.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

High sex drive, doesn’t jerk off. He wants every single drop of his seed in you and you only. He had left for an excursion beyond Waloed, forced to suffer the words of politicians for hours on end. He shouldn’t have to be here, but they had insisted, wanting an answer from the king himself even if it would be the same as it always had. He had grown antsy in your absence, images of your form haunting him as he pretends to be interested in what they have to say. Days pass and he can feel a nagging in the back of his mind, wanting nothing more than to hold you in his embrace, to taste the sweat against your skin, feel you call out his name in bliss. He lies awake at night missing you, erection pressed against his sleepwear uncomfortably, but makes no move to relieve himself. 

No, he wouldn’t dare, not without you. A week passes, and he is finally returned to his love, your familiar scent putting him at ease the moment he steps into your shared bedchambers. He can never tire of this, of how you so easily bring him at peace.

You jump into his arms without hesitation, kissing him tenderly. “Welcome back, my lord.” There’s a coy smile on your face, a hand gingerly playing with his hair. “I’ve missed you.” He admires you, a familiarity in your gaze. He is glad to know he was not the only one left wanting. He picks you up unceremoniously, walking to the bed. “As have I, my love. Allow me to show you just how much.”

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lingerie - Seeing you dressed in the finest of lace is a gift in and of itself, and being able to rip off the wrapping makes that gift even more enjoyable.

Body Worship - You are his queen, expected to be treated as such. 

Mirrors - An extension of body worship, he will watch eagerly as you shake on his lap, a single hand placed at your neck. “Do not turn your eyes away, my beloved. I should have you witness yourself, as I do.”

Choking - Either giving or receiving, depends on what he’s in the mood for that night. Sado-Masochism - Let’s be real here, this is Barnabas we’re talking about. The man lives for battle, both in and out of the bedroom. Treat him rough, he can handle it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom, occasionally the throne room if he’s feeling bold. Also has a tendency to drag you away to the nearest empty room if you’re looking extra desirable that day. It’s not like anyone will complain after all, he is the king.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

A single look from you is enough to get his blood boiling. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything involving bodily fluids, or anything that would permanently scar you. He may be a masochist but he’s not unsanitary, nor is he evil.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As mentioned before, his only experience with sex prior was whatever woman would occupy his bed when he felt like it. He used to think he had a preference for receiving because that’s all he knew until that point, focused on his own pleasure above all, but you quickly changed his view.

His mouth moves against your pussy enthralled, his eyes dark with lust. You mewl for him, a beautiful sound that stokes a fire inside, brings him closer and closer to completion without a single touch.

You squirm under him, unable to handle his ministrations even if he knows you crave them so. His two hands lock you in place, no room to push away as he devours every last drop of your lust.

It runs over his chin, spills against your plush thighs, and he makes no move to remove himself. He indulges, gorges himself on your taste until he’s satisfied, and returns for seconds greedily.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

On a good day he’ll drag on for hours, teasing you until you cry, on a bad day he’ll fuck you until his fingers bruise your skin and your legs give out. Depends on how annoying his royal advisors are.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes, but not too often. He’s aware of his reputation, but he will throw it out the window in a heartbeat if he sees the brand new lingerie set he’s bought you peeking out beneath your dress.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes, without a doubt. 

The cold bite of steel sends a shudder down your spine. Ever so slowly, the flat of the blade moves against your naked chest, to your stomach, and finds its target at the fine line of your panties.

Barnabas watches you mesmerized, how your body reacts to the danger, goosebumps forming as he moves his blade across your skin. You don’t move away from him, even when the blade moves back to line your throat.

“So well behaved,” he whispers, pressing the blade further against your skin. “You would trust me with your very life?”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I would.”

You bite your lip when you feel his knee pressed into your pussy, knife still at your throat. 

“And what if my hand were to slip?”

It never would of course. Barnabas is far too experienced to let such a thing happen.

A quick flick of his wrist and your underwear is left in pieces, the blade now lying flat against your mound. His eyes roam across your body, a hint of something sadistic rising when he sees your reaction.

You tremble, forcing yourself to stay still lest the knife truly hurts you. Even as you try your best, he can feel you just barely moving against his knee, still seeking pleasure.

A whimper, shaky hands moving to rest at his chest. “Please, keep going.”

A wicked grin passes across his face. “As you wish.”

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

You can try to beg him to stop, the key word here is “try.” Don’t be surprised if he doesn’t listen.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Assuming this is a modern AU, he’ll entertain a buttplug or a vibrator. If ropes count as toys,  then those too. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Damn near fucking evil. His dick could be throbbing in his pants, ready to make a mess of himself but he will hold back just to draw out your pleasure one more time, just one more time dear— It’s never just one more time.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Grunter, not very loud. Would rather listen to your cries instead.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Loves to teach you how to defend yourself. He was over the moon when you asked him to hold a sword for the first time, and now you’ve gotten to the point where you can parry a blow. Not only is it an excuse to spend time with you, but he can have the peace of mind to know that if you’re forced to fight, you could handle yourself. 

You would never have to, of course, because he’d never leave your side long enough for anyone to harm you. Any fool bold enough to try would be unrecognizable after the fact, but he’d be a liar if he said the image of a sword in your hand wasn’t arousing.

The both of you stand in the courtyard, not a soul around save for the birds that fly overhead. You hold your sword in a strong grip, despite your exhaustion, while Barnabas has barely broken a sweat. Inexperienced as you are there is a spark in you, one that may yet grow into a wildfire with the right training.

“You have been practicing without me, I can see it in your stance.” He muses, eyeing your weakened body.

To anyone else it may seem a mockery, but you knew better. You raise your sword in front of your body, lips curling into a grin.

“Do you think I’ll be able to defeat you now?”

He shakes his head in amusement. “A Dominant you are not, but I will make a fine swordswoman out of you yet.” (As an added bonus, I also think he would love bringing you the most lavish gifts! Perfumes, jewelry, the softest fabrics straight from the Dhalmekian Republic, he enjoys spoiling you. Anything for his queen.)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

6.1 inches, uncut, slightly curved upwards, veiny. Always hits your gspot without fail.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Less of a sex drive and more like he’s ready to please you if you so wish. You would only have to ask, and sometimes you don’t have to, he can tell. The two of you are sitting in the throne room, side by side as he gives an audience with a member of royalty.

You’ve been eyeing him all day, sneaking a glance every time he speaks. You shouldn’t bother him, he has enough on his plate as sole ruler of Waloed, so instead you let your imagination run amok. Broad shoulders and strong arms, large hands that always know what you need and how you need it. Maybe he’d tease you, or maybe he’d fuck you until his name is the only thing you can scream.

Gods, just thinking about him makes your core ignite. Your focus is broken when the man rises from the floor, leaving the room. Had you been daydreaming that long? Your confusion is further increased when Barnabas motions for his personal guard to leave the room. “I would have a moment to myself,” He waves towards the large oak doors. “See that I’m not interrupted.” Wordlessly they file out, and only when he’s certain no one remains does he turn toward you. “How long have you been left wanting?” Your eyes widen. You try to deny it, but a hand at your chin stops you. “I could feel it, your gaze,” His hand moves lower, tracing against your collarbone, then grabbing your neck as he speaks lowly. “I can see right through you, desperate little thing you are.” He pulls you toward him, leaving your seat and moving into his lap without hesitation. “Tell me what has preoccupied your mind so, what you need.” You shiver, a hand slowly moving up your bare thigh, higher and higher. “You, Barnabas.” Pleased with your answer, those same large hands remove your underwear within seconds. “Then you may have me.”

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Doesn’t sleep, enjoys watching you sleep peacefully. He'll stroke your hair and whisper as sleep claims you. "My beautiful queen, forever and always."

[fllameshield]

Starter | Muse: Barnabas Tharmr

The skies had grown so dark, but he had been used to such a dreary landscape by this point in his life. All were days of darkness, for all he knew, and there was only room for one light. The light of the one above them, though only a handful knew of the reality of that one's divine might. Today, he sat upon his throne, contemplating what may be in store for the next coming weeks. It was too quiet in his palace, and he almost longed for there to be anything but this brief bit of peace.

@ifritmade