#do hayi
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animaex · 1 year ago
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underscorehrtsu · 8 months ago
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i think this was vent art
21/1/23
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urlocaltannenbaumm · 2 years ago
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAVEH THE LOML
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radiashen · 1 year ago
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this is shouka sonjuku. to me
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jwooyoung · 2 years ago
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imeminemp3 · 5 months ago
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do kpoppies just.. not learn hangul anymore? it's easy to learn and the sounds are pretty easy to learn too. and once you start to pick up on patterns you can see a romanised word and guess where the mistakes are (like mukbang. bc a lot of ppl apparently pronounce it as 'mookbang'). and like if ur unsure then u can look up the hangul and know for sure what the pronunciation is. WHY wERE PEOPLE SURPISED WHEN PHIL SAID PHUKBANG LIKE FUCK BANG LIKE THAT'S HOW YOU PRONOUNCE IT. THAT'S WHY "PHUKBANG" WAS SO FUNNY IN THE FIRST PLACE
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r0ugesun · 6 months ago
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running with the wolves
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Beta read by my wife @moonstruksandco ( ˘ ³˘)˘ᵋ ˘ )♥
Synopsis: Cregan Stark, the formidable Lord of Winterfell, eagerly awaits the arrival of his new betrothed, y/n, who has bewitched him since childhood. As winter sets in, he hopes to transform their arranged marriage into a union of love. However, y/n arrives with her own doubts, unsure if she can return his deep affection. Will their marriage blossom into love, or remain a cold duty? Cregan is determined to show her that their bond can be more than just an obligation on their wedding night.
Warnings: 18+ slow burn, smut, arranged marriage, loss of virginity, p in v sex (unprotected), breeding kink, rough sex, oral sex(both f/m receiving) missionary, mating press, doggy style lots of cum (I think all stark men cum bucket loads)
8k+ words likes and reblogs are highly appreciated ෆ/⟳ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶
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(Authors note: omg hayy I don’t know that much about Yorkshire accents aside from ackley bridge so I’m sorry in advanced if it’s not right :>)
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The wind howled through the ancient halls of Winterfell, carrying with it the biting chill of the northern winter. Cregan Stark, the Warden of the North, stood by the great hearth in the main hall, his keen grey eyes fixed on the entrance. The time had come for the arrival of his new betrothed, y/n, the most beautiful amongst house Tyrell.
From the moment he first saw her, Cregan had been captivated. Even as a young lad, her grace and elegance had set her apart. Now, as a grown woman, she was even more bewitching, and Cregan's heart swelled with a mix of anticipation and determination. He was resolved to turn their arranged marriage into a union of love.
As Cregan stood by the hearth, he watched the window, the snowflakes drifting lazily to the ground, a distant memory surfaced, warm and vivid against the icy present. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be transported back to a time when he was just a young lad of twelve, visiting Highgarden with his family.
He remembered the journey vividly, how different the South had seemed compared to the North. The air was warmer, the colors more vibrant. He had wandered through the lush gardens, marveling at the flowers and plants that couldn’t survive the harsh winters of Winterfell. It was in those gardens that he first saw her.
Y/n had been around his age, a vision of beauty even then. She sat on a stone bench, engrossed in a book, her expression serene and detached. Her hair, shining in the sunlight, cascaded down her shoulders, and her delicate features were framed by the backdrop of blooming flowers. She seemed almost like a fairytale princess, so enchanting that he could scarcely believe she was real.
Without even realizing it his feet began to move on their own, he was like a moth being drawn to the flame that was her. As he approached her, His heart pounded in his chest, an unfamiliar but exhilarating feeling. She glanced up briefly from her book as he neared, her eyes meeting his for just a moment before returning to her reading.
“H-Hello” he said, trying to muster as much confidence as he could. “What are yeh reading?”
She responded without looking up this time, her voice calm and distant. “Hmm a collection of poems” she replied. “Do you like poetry?”
Cregan, caught off guard, nodded. “Aye. Though I don’t read much of it.”
She patted the space beside her, still not lifting her gaze from the pages. “You can sit if you want.”
He sat down slowly, feeling a strange sense of destiny in that moment. She continued to read aloud, her voice weaving the words into a tapestry of emotion and beauty. He listened, captivated not by the poetry but by her otherworldliness her grace, and the way she brought the words to life. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, completely in star struck, while she remained indifferent, too engrossed in her book to notice his adoration.
That was the last time they spoke just a few exchange of words. The rest of his visit to Highgarden was spent with his father and training with Y/N’s brothers and learning the ways of a lord, much to his chagrin. But whenever he could, he would steal glances at her from a window while she read in the garden, and across from her at dinner, for which his mother often scolded him.
"Cregan, it's impolite to stare" his mother whispered sharply during dinner one evening, nudging his foot under the table.
He tore his eyes away from y/n, his cheeks burning and crimson red. "I weren’t starin’, Mother.”
“Yeh most certainly were” she replied, her tone firm. “It’s not appropriate. Focus on yer meal.”
“But she’s… she’s so…”
“Enchantin’?” his mother finished for him, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Aye, she is. But yeh must remember yer manners, lad. Staring is unbecoming of a young lord.”
Cregan sighed, casting one last, fleeting glance at y/n, who was still in her own little world not casting a single glance his way. “Aye, mother….”
Despite his mother’s admonitions, his fascination with Y/N only grew, even as she remained blissfully unaware of his admiration.
Cregan opened his eyes, the memory fading as the cold reality of Winterfell settled back in. He sighed, turning away from the window. Some things, he mused, never truly changed.
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In the dimly lit carriage, y/n huddled under the blankets, trying to stave off the biting cold that seemed to seep through the very fabric of her clothes. Her mother sat beside her, wrapped in her own covers and trying to offer some semblance of warmth and comfort. The carriage jolted over the rough, snow covered road, and every bump made her shiver more.
Her brothers, true to their duty, were outside braving the harsh northern winter with their horses, though y/n could scarcely imagine how they managed. She, however, had the luxury of being confined to the carriage, a prisoner of her own anxieties and fears.
The stories she’d heard about Cregan Stark haunted her thoughts. The gruff warden of the north with a claymore sword so heavy it was said to be the size of a small man. To her, the very idea of marrying such a man was nightmarish. She couldn't remember much about him from his family’s previous visit to Highgarden all those years ago, but the tales of his fierceness and the imposing aura of the North made her dread the moment she would finally meet him.
The carriage seemed to creak with the weight of her mother's discontent. Her mother’s complaints, murmured under her breath but audible enough for y/n to hear, were laced with disdain. “I cannot believe we’ve had to send our only daughter off to marry a Stark”
“Their way of life, covered in stinking animal pelts, living amongst brutes who value strength over grace. It’s hardly the life for a Tyrell.” She said with disgust.
Her father’s stern gaze flicked towards her mother, his patience evidently wearing thin. "We’ve discussed this, Eliza. The match is made, and it’s for the good of House Tyrell. Stop lamenting what cannot be undone."
To him, this marriage was merely a strategic move, a means to secure more power for Highgarden. His daughter's feelings were of no consequence, his focus was solely on the political gain.
“Do you have to be so callous?” her mother’s voice broke through the gloom. “She is our daughter.”
Her father’s gaze remained unyielding. “The alliance with the Starks is necessary for the gain of our house. Y/n is to be a dutiful wife to a powerful lord it’s what she was raised for, if she does her duty right she’ll bear him many children further securing our power”
As her father’s harsh words continued to echo in her ears, y/n’s anger flared. She straightened up, glaring at him . “If you wanted to gift Cregan a broodmare, you should’ve gotten him one of the whores you visit in the brothels” she spat out, her voice trembling with defiance.
mother’s gasp of shock was barely audible over the creaking of the carriage. Her father’s eyes were wild, a hot fury flashing in them. Before y/n could react, his hand shot out, delivering a hard, stinging slap across her face. The sharp force of it made her head snap to the side, and she recoiled, stunned by the sudden violence.
“How dare you!” her father’s voice roared with anger.
y/n’s mother was frozen, her hand going to her mouth in shock. She looked at her husband with a mixture of horror and helplessness. “Henry, please—”
“Be silent!” he snapped, cutting her off. “I will not tolerate such insolence!“
He turned his icy gaze back to y/n, his face a mask of unrelenting severity. “You are about to become the wife of a powerful man. you are fortunate that I secured this arrangement, otherwise you would just end up being Cregans whore in some brothel anyway.”
Y/n’s heart sank as she heard the finality in his cruel words. She knew better than to argue with him—his decisions were made with an iron will that left no room for dissent.
as the carriage continued its slow journey through the snow, y/n's thoughts were plagued with anxiety and uncertainty. The grandeur of Winterfell loomed ahead, and with it, the reality of her new life as Cregan Stark’s bride. She could only hope that, amidst the cold and the gruffness of her new home, she might find a way to endure this new chapter of her life.
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As Cregan stood by the hearth, still lost in his own thoughts, the door swung open with a crash and his friends burst in, laughter and shouts echoing through the great hall.
“Cregan, ye dog! Heard the news, did we!” Jorah boomed, striding up to him and clapping him on the back with such force it nearly sent him stumbling forward.
“Aye, lad, congratulations!” Gendry called out, raising his tankard high. “A Tyrell, no less! Must’ve done somethin’ right to be landin’ a lass like that.”
Cregan, smiling, shook his head as he tried to make sense of the sudden uproar. “Cheers, lads. Bit early for a celebratory drink, ain’t it?”
Bram, always one for a jest, stepped forward with a grin. “Well, Cregan, we heard she’s real beauty, fairest in all the Seven Kingdoms. Quite the catch for a dog like you. Ain’t right, really, a face like hers and a face like yours.”
Cregan raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips. “Oh, is that so? And what about ye lot, then? All of ye been lookin’ in the mirror lately?”
The room erupted in laughter, and Bram waved a dismissive hand. “Aye, we might be a rough lot, but at least we ain��t got to worry ‘bout our faces bein’ compared to a rose.”
Robb, always quick with a quip, leaned in with a wink. “Might be true she’ll forget all ‘bout yer ugly mug once she gets a look at what’s really under yer tunic. you’ve got more to offer than just yer sorry looks.”
Cregan’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he laughed along, trying to maintain his composure. “Ah, so ye’re sayin’ it’s all in the size of me… character, is it?”
“Aye, that’s right!” Robb said with a grin. “Best thing about ye, Cregan, is that even if your face don’t make the cut, yer other qualities surely will.”
Cregan shook his head, laughing despite himself. “Well, if it’s me ‘other qualities’ that’ll win her over, then I reckon I’d best be makin’ sure she gets a good look at all of ‘em.”
Jorah slapped him on the back again, nearly sending him reeling. “Look at ye, all flustered! Never thought I’d see the day. Don’t worry, lad. What lass wouldn’t want a strong Northman?”
“Aye, just keep it down a bit, or you’ll have me blushing so hard I’ll be usin’ me face as a lantern” Cregan said, his grin widening.
The friends continued their banter, the atmosphere warm with camaraderie and laughter. As they raised their mugs in a final toast, Cregan felt a renewed sense of anticipation and affection for the future, no matter the teasing jabs from his mates.
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The room was alive with laughter and chatter as Cregan and his friends carried on with their banter. Jorah was in the middle of a lively tale from a recent hunt, while Robb and Gendry argued over the best way to handle a particularly stubborn horse.
The door creaked open, and in walked Lady Gilliane Glover and Lord Rickon Stark, their presence immediately silencing the room. Lady Gilliane, a woman of dignified grace, and Lord Rickon, tall and commanding, made their way over to their son.
“Cregan, me lad!” Lady Gilliane called out, her voice warm but authoritative. “Got a bit o’ news for ye.”
Cregan turned, a smile fading as he saw his parents. He stood, brushing his hands on his tunic. “Mother, Father, what brings ye here?”
Lord Rickon gave a nod, his face a mix of seriousness and pride. “Your brother spotted Y/N’s carriage on the road. They’ll be arrivin’ soon.”
The room quieted, the friends sensing the shift in the mood. Jorah nudged Cregan with a grin. “Looks like the real fun’s about to start, eh?”
Lady Gilliane gave a small, amused smile. “Aye, that’s right. Thought ye’d want to know. They’ll be here within the hour, so best be ready.”
Cregan’s heart raced, and he glanced at his friends, trying to mask his nerves. “Well, no time like the present, I suppose. Best get meself sorted.”
Lord Rickon placed a reassuring hand on Cregan’s shoulder. “Remember, lad, first impressions count. Show her what a proper Stark man ye are.”
“Aye, Father,” Cregan said, nodding. He turned to his friends with a determined look. “Ye lot best behave yerselves when she arrives. Don’t be givin’ her any more trouble than need be.”
The friends raised their mugs, grinning. “Aye, aye, Cregan! We’ll be on our best behavior,” Robb said, winking.
Lady Gilliane’s gaze softened as she looked at her son. “We’ll leave ye to it, then. Just remember, Cregan, she’ll be as nervous as ye, if not more. Show her the warmth of the North.”
As Lady Gilliane and Lord Rickon exited the hall, Cregan took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The anticipation of meeting Y/N was building with every tick of the clock, and he knew the coming hours would be crucial.
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Y/n sat in the carriage, the stark contrast between the verdant landscapes of Highgarden and the harsh, icy expanse of Winterfell weighing heavily on her. The snow-clad scenery outside felt alien and unwelcoming compared to the lush greenery she had left behind. Each jolt of the carriage seemed to deepen her sense of displacement.
Her mother’s hand, warm and steady, was a source of comfort amid her growing anxiety. Y/N clung to it, drawing solace from its presence as she tried to quell her rising fears.
“We’re almost there, dear” her mother said softly, her voice a gentle balm against the cold atmosphere of the carriage. “Remember, we’re in this together.”
Y/n managed a small, appreciative smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thank you, Mother. It’s just… it’s so different from home.”
Her father, ever the pillar of stoicism, was peering out the window, his gaze fixed on the approaching Winterfell.
The carriage began to slow, the crunch of snow under the wheels signaling their arrival. As they came to a stop, y/n could see her father alighting first, his figure steady and authoritative as he approached Lord Rickon Stark.
“Lord Rickon” her father said, stepping forward with a formal nod. “It is a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for your gracious hospitality.”
Y/n and her mother remained in the carriage, the cold air seeping through the cracks in the doors. Her mother's hand squeezed hers gently, offering a fleeting moment of comfort in the face of her overwhelming anxiety.
"Mother" y/n whispered, her voice trembling. "What if I can't do this? I-I’m scared"
Her mother turned to her, eyes filled with sympathy and understanding. "Oh, my dear, I know it seems daunting. But you have a strength within you that you may not yet realize. You have always been resilient."
Tears welled up in y/n's eyes. "I feel so far from home. Everything here is so cold, so harsh."
Her mother reached up, brushing a tear from
y/n's cheek. "I know, darling. Highgarden's warmth and beauty are hard to leave behind. But you must remember, you have the ability to adapt and thrive. This place will feel like home in time."
Y/n nodded, trying to take comfort in her mother's words, but the knot in her stomach remained tight. "And what of Father? He seems so determined, but... he never cares for how I feel."
Her mother's expression darkened momentarily before she masked it with a gentle smile. "don't let him weigh you down. Focus on yourself and your own strength. You are here to build a new life, and I believe in you."
The carriage door opened, and the cold air rushed in, a stark reminder of the world awaiting her. Her father was already engaged in conversation with Lord Rickon Stark, their voices carrying a tone of formality and mutual respect.
"It's time" her mother said softly, giving y/n's hand one last reassuring squeeze. "Show them the grace and strength you possess. You are more than capable y/n."
With a deep breath, y/n steeled herself and stepped out of the carriage. The cold air bit at her skin, but she walked forward, her mother following closely behind.
Y/n's mother nudged her gently, drawing her attention away from the imposing figure of Lord Rickon. "Y/n, dear" she whispered, "Lord Cregan is approaching you."
Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she turned to see Cregan making his way towards her. He was even taller and more formidable than she remembered, his broad shoulders and strong build making him appear larger than life. She stiffened, her body tensing with apprehension.
Cregan's eyes, a deep and thoughtful blue, met hers as he stopped before her. He could see the trepidation in her gaze, the way her hands clutched the folds of her cloak. Despite the fear evident in her demeanor, she managed to muster a polite greeting.
"Lord Cregan" she said, her voice steady but tinged with a slight tremor. "It is an honor to be here."
Cregan offered a warm smile, though he felt a pang of hurt and self-consciousness at the sight of her fear. He noticed the redness around her eyes, the telltale signs that she had been crying. The realization made his heart ache—she was far from home, surrounded by strangers, and faced with the daunting prospect of marrying him, a man she barely remembered.
"Lady y/n" he responded, his voice gentle. "The honor is mine. Welcome to Winterfell."
Y/n nodded, her posture rigid. "Thank you, my lord."
He could see her struggling to maintain her composure, her attempts to be polite masking the underlying fear and uncertainty. He wanted to reassure her, to tell her that she was safe here with him, but he knew his words might not carry much weight given the circumstances.
"Ye must be tired from yer journey" Cregan said, trying to ease the tension. "I hope the accommodations we’ve prepared for ye are to yer liking."
She glanced around, her eyes briefly meeting his before darting away. "I'm sure they will be, my lord. Thank you."
Cregan's heart softened at her evident discomfort. He could only imagine how overwhelming this experience must be for her—leaving the warmth and familiarity of Highgarden for the cold and formidable North, betrothed to an intimidating stranger.
"Please, if there is anything ye need, do not hesitate to ask," he added, his tone earnest. "I want ye to feel at home here."
Y/N nodded again, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you, Lord Cregan."
As the formalities continued, Cregan remained by her side, acutely aware of her apprehension. He could see the way she shivered slightly in the cold, her delicate frame dwarfed by the heavy cloak she wore. The vulnerability in her eyes struck a chord within him, igniting a protective instinct he hadn’t anticipated.
He knew it would take time for her to adjust, to feel comfortable in this new and unfamiliar place. And while her fear and anxiety might hurt him, he understood the reasons behind them. She was far from home, thrust into a situation beyond her control, and he was determined to show her that she had nothing to fear.
As the crowd began to disperse, Cregan leaned in slightly, his voice low and sincere. "I hope ye will come to find Winterfell as welcoming as Highgarden, Lady y/n. We Northerners may seem cold, but we are loyal and true. Ye have my word on that."
Y/n looked up at him, her eyes searching his for a moment before she nodded, a hint of hope mingling with her fear. "…I will do my best."
He smiled softly, hoping to convey his sincerity. "And I will do my best to make this place a home for ye."
With that, they parted, y/n retreating to her quarters with her mother while Cregan watched her go, a mix of emotions churning within him. He was determined to prove himself to her, to show her that beneath his intimidating exterior lay a heart of gold capable of warmth and compassion.
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The day of the wedding arrived, casting a serene hush over Winterfell. The godswood was adorned for the occasion, the ancient weirwood standing sentinel over the ceremony, its pale bark and blood-red leaves seeming to echo the gravity of the moment.
In her chambers, y/n adjusted her maiden’s cloak for the final time. The rich green of House Tyrell’s sigil contrasted sharply with the snowy landscape visible through the window. Her father, though distant and stern, was prepared to escort her. As they approached the godswood, y/n’s heart pounded in her chest, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on her.
Her father’s expression was somber, but he offered her a curt nod, signaling it was time. Together, they walked through the snow, the crunching of their footsteps the only sound breaking the silence. The guests had gathered, their breaths visible in the chill air, and they fell into a hushed reverence as y/n and her father approached the heart tree.
Cregan waited beneath the weirwood, his eyes fixed on the approaching bride. As she neared, his breath caught slightly, a mixture of awe and anticipation in his gaze. The grandeur of y/n’s beauty was amplified by the solemnity of the godswood, her presence seeming almost ethereal in the fading light.
When they reached the base of the tree, Cregan’s voice rang out clearly, cutting through the stillness. “Who comes? Who comes before the gods?”
Y/n’s father’s voice was steady as he replied,
“Y/n of House Tyrell comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble, she comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who comes to claim her?”
Cregan’s response was filled with a fervent resolve. “Me, Cregan of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell. I claim her. Who gives her?”
Y/n’s father turned to her, his voice formal but lacking warmth. “I, Henry of House Tyrell, her father, gives her.”
He then addressed y/n, his tone clipped. “Lady y/n, will you take this man?”
Y/n’s voice trembled slightly but was resolute. “I take this man.”
With the formalities completed, Cregan and y/n joined hands and knelt before the weirwood. They bowed their heads, submitting to the gods in silent prayer. The moment was charged with a profound intimacy, the ancient tree bearing witness to their vows.
After a few moments, Cregan gently removed
y/n’s maiden’s cloak, revealing the intricate embroidery of House Tyrell on her dress. With great care, he draped over her shoulders a new cloak—the sigil of House Stark now displayed proudly.
The crowd erupted into applause, their cheers ringing out as Cregan and y/n stood together. The ceremony was complete, the ancient bond of the godswood now symbolizing the beginning of their shared life.
As they walked back towards the castle, Cregan stole glances at y/n, his admiration and anticipation palpable. Despite the harshness of Winterfell’s climate and the gravity of their new life, the day had marked a hopeful new chapter for both of them.
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Y/n's heart pounded as Cregan guided her through the cold, imposing corridors of Winterfell. The castle's heavy stone walls seemed to close in on her, amplifying her sense of isolation. Cregan's presence beside her was both comforting and intimidating, she couldn’t shake the fear that gripped her heart.
They arrived at Cregan's chambers, where a warm fire crackled in the hearth, casting a soft, inviting glow. He gestured for her to enter first, and after a brief hesitation, she stepped inside.
"Please, make yerself comfortable," Cregan said, closing the door behind them. His northern accent was thick, adding a rugged charm to his words. "Would ye like somethin' to drink? A bit o' wine, mayhaps, to help ye warm up?"
Y/n nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, thank you."
Cregan poured a glass of wine and handed it to her, his gaze lingering on her as she took a small sip. He could see the tension in her posture and wanted to ease her fears, to show her that he was not the monster she imagined.
"Y/n," he began, his voice low and earnest, the thick accent wrapping each word in a soft embrace, "I know this must be overwhelmin'. I want ye to know that I understand yer fears, and I swear I’ll do everythin' in me power to make ye feel safe and cherished here."
She looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. "Thank you, my lord," she said, her voice quivering. "I… I don't know what to expect."
Cregan took a step closer, his gaze filled with a yearning that spoke of deep emotion. "Ye can call me Cregan" he said, the warmth in his northern accent making his words even more poignant. "And I need ye to hear me now, for it’s somethin’ I’ve carried with me for years. From the moment I first beheld ye, me heart was forever altered."
Y/n's breath hitched, her eyes searching his face for the truth behind his words. Cregan's expression was tender, his gaze reflecting a vulnerability she hadn’t expected. He took a deep breath, as if gathering the courage to bare his soul.
"I remember the first time I saw ye in the gardens of Highgarden," he said softly, his voice weaving a tapestry of emotion. "I was just a lad, new to the beauty of the south. Everythin’ around me was lush and vibrant, but when I saw ye, it was as if my world fell apart. Ye were like a vision of ethereal grace amidst the greenery. The flowers and the trees—they seemed mere shadows compared to ye. In that moment, it was clear that ye were the true beauty of the garden."
Y/n's eyes widened, and a flush of color spread across her cheeks. She could hardly breathe as she processed his confession. "Since then?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Cregan nodded, his gaze steady and full of longing. "Aye, since then. Ye were a beacon of light in me life, and that memory has lingered, burnin’ bright in me heart. I’ve longed to be near ye, not merely for the sake of duty, but because ye’ve ensnared my heart in a way no one else ever could."
Her heart fluttered wildly at his words, the warmth of the fire mingling with the warmth of his confession. She had always felt like a pawn in her father’s game, never imagining that someone like Cregan could see her so profoundly.
"I didn’t know" she said softly, her voice catching in her throat. "I thought... I thought you would be distant and cold."
Cregan's smile widened, his eyes soft with pure affection. "Aye the North may be cold, but my heart is only filled with warmth for ye. I want ye to see the real me, to know that I am here for ye with all that I am."
She looked into his eyes, seeing a depth of sincerity and yearning that shifted her perception. Perhaps this marriage could be more than a mere alliance. Maybe it could be the beginning of something profoundly beautiful.
"Thank you, Cregan…." she whispered, feeling a newfound sense of calm and hope. "I... I want to try."
Cregan’s smile was full of warmth and relief. "Tha’s all I ask, Y/n. We’ll take this one step at a time, together."
As they stood there, hand in hand, the fire crackling softly in the hearth, Y/n felt a spark of hope ignite in her heart, seeing Cregan in a new light.
Cregan's eyes never left Y/n's as he took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted this moment to be perfect, to reassure her of his intentions.
"Y/n" he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "may I kiss ye?"
Y/n's breath hitched, her cheeks flushing scarlet. She hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod, her eyes never leaving his. "Yes, Cregan. You may."
Cregan moved closer, his hand gently cupping her cheeks as he leaned in. He pressed his lips to hers in a soft tender, almost hesitant kiss, his touch gentle and reassuring. Y/n responded, her initial nervousness melting away as she felt the warmth and sincerity in his kiss.
When he pulled back, he looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort. Seeing none, he smiled softly. "Ye're so beautiful, Y/n."
She blushed again, a shy smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you, Cregan."
He took her hand, leading her to the bed. As they stood beside it, he gently picked her up, cradling her in his arms. Y/n gasped softly, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he carried her. He laid her down on the bed with the utmost care, as if she were the most precious thing in the world.
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Cregan's gaze remained locked on Y/n’s face, his eyes filled with a deep, reverent admiration. He lowered himself beside her on the bed, his hand still cupping her cheek. “I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “I can’t believe yer finally mine. My wife.”
Y/n’s heart fluttered at the sincerity in his voice. The way he looked at her made her feel cherished, his admiration lighting a fire within her. Her apprehension melted away as she reached up, cupping his face in return. “And I’m grateful to be yours, Cregan.”
Their lips met again, this time with more fervor. The kiss deepened as Cregan’s hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Y/n’s hands roamed over his shoulders, pulling him into the kiss with equal intensity. The warmth of his touch, combined with the gentle urgency of their embrace, made her feel as if she was floating.
Cregan’s breath mingled with hers as he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. “I’ve wanted this so much” he whispered. “I’ve wanted ye.”
Y/n’s eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze and the sincerity of his words. She felt a new, desperate longing surge within her, her body responding to his touch with an eagerness she hadn’t expected. “Please, Cregan” she breathed out, her voice trembling with emotion.
Their lips met again, each kiss more passionate than the last. The world outside seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in the moment, their breaths coming in sync as their yearning for each other deepened with every touch.
Cregan's kisses grew more intense, his touch transforming from gentle caresses to an urgent, burning desire. He pulled back just enough to look into Y/n's eyes, his own dark with passion. "I want to see all of ye, to feel ye" he said softly, his voice rough with need.
With deliberate care, he started to undress, his movements slow and deliberate. He tossed his cloak aside, revealing his strong muscular frame. Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she watched him, his hardened form visible through his small clothes, making her heart race with a mix of anticipation and nervous excitement.
Cregan's hands moved to his shirt, sliding it off with a practiced ease. His gaze remained locked on Y/n as he undressed, his eyes filled with a burning intensity. His hands lingered on the waistband of his smallclothes, his hardness evident and stirring a deep, aching longing within Y/n.
When he was finally freed his cock, Cregan approached Y/n with a tender but determined expression. He reached for her cloak, slipping it off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. His fingers moved deftly to her dress, his touch gentle but purposeful as he began to unlace it.
The fabric fell away, revealing her bare chest to his gaze. Cregan's breath caught at the sight, his eyes roaming over her exposed skin with a mixture of reverence and desire.
"Ye're stunning," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "I want to cherish every part of ye."
Yn's skin tingled under his gaze, her heart pounding as she felt both exposed and cherished.
Cregan's hands continued their exploration, his touch both reverent and possessive. He leaned in to kiss her again, his lips trailing hot, desperate kisses across her neck and shoulders.
His hands roamed over her bare skin, his touch igniting a fierce desire within her. She gasped, her body arching into his touch, as he pressed her into the bed with a controlled but eager force. His kisses became more fervent, his hands gripping her waist as he explored her body with a possessive urgency.
"I've longed for this moment" Cregan said between kisses, his voice rough with need.
Yn responded with equal fervor, her hands gripping his shoulders as she kissed him back with a desperate passion. "Show me, Cregan" she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.
"Show me how much you want me."
The room was filled with the sounds of their mingled breaths and wet sloppy kisses as they lost themselves in the moment. Cregan's touch was a blend of tenderness and raw desire, each movement and kiss building a profound connection that left them both breathless and yearning for more.
As the kiss deepened, Cregan's touch grew more urgent, his hands roaming over Y/n's body with increasing desperation. His kisses, once tender and exploratory, became more demanding, his breaths ragged as he tried to control his growing desire. Yet, despite the intensity of their embrace, Cregan seemed to hold back, his movements tinged with an inner struggle to remain gentle.
Y/n could sense his restraint and the tension in his body. She was overwhelmed by the fire burning within her, her own desire driving her to push past his tentative touches.
"Cregan" she gasped between kisses, her voice trembling with need. "I want you. I want you to claim me fully."
Cregan's breath hitched, his eyes dark with a mix of surprise and longing. "Y/n... I-I don't want to hurt ye" he murmured, his voice strained as he tried to keep his composure, he promised himself that he would be gentle, only touching her as if she were made of the most delicate glass and now he’d already been more rough than he intended.
But Y/n's voice was resolute, her gaze fixed on him with a desperate intensity. "No, Cregan. I want you to make me yours completely.” She whined, but she saw the look on his eyes he wouldn’t relent unless she pushed him towards his breaking point. “I want you to fuck a baby into me. I need you ple—“
Cregan didn't let you finish. His lips crashed against yours in a kiss that ignited a wildfire within. He held your face tenderly yet firmly, his touch a lifeline as you clung to him, desperate for more. His tongue explored the depths of your mouth, tasting every inch with a hunger that bordered on feral.
The clash of your teeth, the fervor of your kiss, it was a battle, a dance of dominance that you were willing to lose.
Cregan's tongue delved deeper, drawing a breathless moan from you. His scent enveloped you, intoxicating and heady, making your knees buckle with longing. It was as if the tether to your senses was fraying, leaving you to melt into a molten pool beneath his commanding presence.
The heat coursing through your body was a familiar sensation, yet it had never burned this intensely. It surged through you, tightening your nipples and pooling between your thighs, setting every nerve aflame.
Lost in the haze of his searing kisses, you scarcely noticed when he eased your back farther onto the bed, his body a solid, protective weight above you. Your eyes met, a silent conflagration passing between you, before he claimed your lips again with a gentler fervor, the same intensity simmering beneath the surface.
"Do you truly want this? With me?" Cregan's voice was a hushed murmur against your lips, a plea and a promise intertwined.
"Yes, husband" you breathed, the words a vow of your own.
His lips brushed your ear, his breath a tantalizing whisper that sent shivers cascading down your spine. "I am going to make love to ye now."
Your nipples hardened at his words, a raw moan of anticipation escaping your lips as he took in your form, the vulnerable softness of your skin a feast for his hungry gaze.
Cregan lowered his head, his lips tracing a path of fire down your neck, over your collarbone, each kiss a desperate silent vow. His hands followed, exploring, caressing, leaving no inch of you untouched.
"Yer exquisite" he murmured, his voice a reverent whisper against your skin. His touch was a balance of possession and adoration, a worship that left you breathless.
The cool air kissed your overheated skin as he continued to explore you, Every touch, every kiss, was a symphony of sensations, a crescendo of passion that left you aching for more.
his eyes drinking in the sight of you, slowly consumed with lust for him, with a reverence that made your heart stutter. "My wife" he whispered, the words a sacred incantation.
Cregan leaned in, capturing your lips once more in a kiss that was both fierce and possessive. His hands roamed your body with a fervent curiosity, memorizing every curve, every dip, leaving a trail of molten fire in their wake.
Your body responded to him, arching into his touch, a silent plea for more.
His kisses grew more insistent, his touch more demanding, as he made his way down your body. He worshipped you with every kiss, every caress, until you were trembling with need beneath him.
"Cregan," you breathed, your voice a soft plea.
His eyes met yours, dark and intense. "I'm here, Y/n" he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. "I'm here."
Cregan's gaze was fixed on your taut, aching nipples. He wasted no time, his heated mouth enveloping one of your tight, sensitive peaks. You gasped as your back arched in response, the initial shock of his touch quickly melting into a rhythm of pleasure.
Each time his cheeks hollowed as he suckled, your gasps turned to desperate pants, while his fingers teased the other abandoned nipple, pulling and twisting it gently.
Cregan's mouth pulling harder on your nipple, his tongue lavishing attention on the delicate bud. Every flick of his tongue sent waves of sensation through you, stirring a throbbing need between your legs.
The pulsing ache demanded more, and your hand, almost involuntarily, slipped between your thighs. The damp evidence of your desire left you breathless and mortified.
"Show me yer hand" Cregan's voice rumbled, his tone firm.
"It's... it's embarrassing-"
Without hesitation, Cregan parted your thighs and deftly removed your small clothes, leaving you exposed before him. His gaze settled on your glistening core, and a satisfied smile tugged at his lips.
"C-cregan!"
"Y/n" he murmured, his eyes locking onto yours with a mix of adoration and hunger.
"Ye've got the prettiest little cunt."
his words made your entire face burn and turn a dark crimson. The raw honesty in his voice left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.
“D-don’t look so closely!”
Without wasting another moment, he lowered his head between your thighs, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh.
your body trembling with need. When his tongue finally made contact, a moan escaped your lips, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you.
Cregan's tongue moved with practiced skill, each stroke and flick sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His lips latched onto your clit, sucking gently before releasing it with a soft pop, only to dive back in with renewed fervor.
The lewd slurping sounds filled the room, mixing with your breathless moans and the crackling of the fire.
Your thighs quivered, the sensation of his mouth on you pushing you closer to the edge. "Cregan" you gasped loudly, your voice shaking. "Please, don't stop."
He didn't need to be told twice. His tongue delved deeper, exploring every inch of your soaking wet cunt, his fingers joining in to tease and caress. The combined sensations were overwhelming, your body arching off the bed as you rode the waves of pleasure.
When you finally came, it was with a cry of his name, your body convulsing as the orgasm ripped through you. Cregan didn't relent though, his tongue continuing its relentless assault, lapping up your juices with a moan, prolonging your climax until you were a trembling, breathless mess.
Only then did he pull back, his lips glistening with your arousal, his eyes dark with desire.
He moved up your body, his hands bracing on either side of your head as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
You could taste yourself on his lips, the intimate act deepening the connection between you.
But it still wasn’t enough for you, gathering your courage, you whispered, "Cregan?"
His eyes opened, soft and warm as they met yours. "Aye, love?"
You bit your lip, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks. "Can I... can I touch you?"
A spark of interest flared in his eyes, and he propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at you. "Touch me? Where?" He said teasingly.
You swallowed hard, your gaze dropping to where his cock lay, painfully hard and twitching. "There" you whined softly, reaching out tentatively.
Cregan's lips curved upwards. "Aye, love. Ye can touch me."
Your hand wrapped around his shaft, the heat of him searing your palm. You marveled at the feel of his skin, so smooth and yet so firm beneath your touch. Cregan's breath hitched, his muscles tensing as you explored him.
"Like this?" you asked, looking up at him for guidance.
He nodded, his voice rough with restraint.
"Aye, just like that. A bit firmer, love."
You tightened your grip slightly, your hand moving up and down his length in slow, deliberate strokes. The sight of him, so vulnerable and exposed, filled you with a heady sense of power and intimacy.
Cregan's hand covered yours, guiding your movements. "Tha's it, love. Yer doin' so well" he moaned, his voice laced with praise and pleasure.
As you continued to stroke him, you noticed a bead of precum forming at the tip. The sight of it, glistening and inviting, sparked a boldness within you. You couldn’t help yourself, you leaned forward, your tongue darting out to lick it away. Cregan groaned loudly, his hips bucking
involuntarily at the sensation.
"Fuck! Y/n" he gasped, his hand tightening around yours.
"Do that again."
You obliged, your tongue swirling around the thick head of his cock, tasting the salty essence of him. The act felt both daring and incredibly arousing, each lick eliciting a new sound of pleasure from Cregan.
Encouraged by his response, you took him deeper into your mouth, your lips closing around his shaft as you began to bob your head.
You were still unaccustomed to his size though, what you couldn’t fit in your mouth you stroked with your hand.
Cregan's hand tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as you pleasured him.
"Ye're so fuckin’ good to me, love" he groaned, his voice thick with need. "So perfect."
The praise spurred you on, your pace quickening as you took him deeper, your hand stroking the base of his cock in time with your movements. Cregan's breaths grew ragged, his body tense with the effort to hold back.
When he finally came, it was with a guttural moan, his release bursting in your mouth.
You swallowed eagerly, wanting to take all of him, to show him the same pleasure he had given you.
As you pulled back, you looked up at him, your eyes wide and full of adoration.
Cregan's chest heaved, his eyes glazed with satisfaction as he pulled you into his arms, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss.
But the night was far from over and the hunger in his eyes told you he was far from satisfied. You felt a renewed wave of desire wash over you, your body eager for more of him.
"Are ye ready for more, love?" he asked, his voice husky with desire. His hand trailed down your body, caressing your breasts and waist, finally coming to rest between your legs.
His fingers teased your wetness, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. "Yer so wet for me."
You nodded, your breath hitching as he continued to stroke you. "Yes, Cregan. I want you. I want you to take me."
His eyes darkened with a primal need, and he positioned himself between your legs, spreading them wide. "I'll be gentle at first, love," he promised, guiding his cock to your entrance.
"But I won't be able to hold back for long."
You felt the tip of his cock pressing against you, and your heart raced with anticipation.
He pushed forward slowly, entering you with a smooth, deliberate motion. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and painful sting as he stretched you to accommodate his large size.
Cregan's eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with love and desire. "Yer so tight, love. So perfect" he groaned, pushing deeper until he was fully seated inside you.
The feeling of being completely filled by him was indescribable, a blend of fullness and heat that made you gasp. "Cregan," you moaned, your hands clutching at his shoulders.
He began to move, his thrusts slow and gentle at first, allowing you to adjust to the sensation. But as your moans grew louder and your hips began to move in time with his, his restraint faltered. His pace quickened, each thrust deeper and harder than the last.
"You feel so good, Y/n," he growled, his voice rough with need. "I can't hold back any longer."
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he pounded into you.
The force of his thrusts drove you higher, making the bed hit the walls roughly, a testament to how greedily he was fucking into you.
Cregan shifted his position, lifting your legs higher and pressing them against your chest. The new angle allowed him to penetrate you even deeper, and you screamed his name as he took you harder.
"That's it, love. Take all of my cock," he urged, his eyes locked on your face, watching your every reaction.
The pressure built within you, the pleasure mounting to an unbearable peak. With a final, powerful thrust, you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. Your body convulsed around him, gripping his cock as he continued to drive into you.
Cregan was relentless, his own release building. He flipped you onto your stomach, pulling you onto your hands and knees. He entered you from behind, his hands gripping your hips as he pounded into you with abandon.
"Fuck, Y/n" he groaned, his voice a rough whisper. "I'm gonna fill ye up. Every last drop."
Cregan's movements became more erratic as he neared his release, his breathing heavy and labored. You could feel the tension building within him, every muscle in his body coiling tighter and tighter. His thrusts grew deeper, more powerful, and you knew he was close.
With a final, powerful thrust, Cregan's hips stilled, pressing deep inside you. His entire body tensed, and he let out a loud, guttural groan, his face contorted in pleasure. You could feel the hot rush of his cum filling you, pulse after pulse, more than you had ever imagined. The sheer volume of it overwhelmed you, a torrent of heat flooding your insides.
"Fuck, Y/n," he groaned, his voice rough with satisfaction. "Take all of it. Every last drop."
He held himself inside you for a moment longer, his cock throbbing with each spurt of cum. Then, slowly, he began to pull out, the sensation almost too much to bear. As he withdrew, you felt a gush of his cum ooze out of you, warm and thick.
Cregan watched, mesmerized, as his release leaked from your entrance. The sight seemed to ignite something primal in him, and he quickly brought his fingers to your dripping core. He gently pushed two fingers inside you, making sure to plug the flow.
"Can't let it go to waste" he murmured, his voice a mix of possessiveness and tenderness. "Want every drop to stay inside ye."
His fingers moved within you, ensuring his cum was thoroughly spread.
You felt another wave of pleasure as he gently massaged your sensitive walls, the sensation of being so full and claimed by him overwhelming you. Cregan leaned down, kissing the small of your back, his breath warm against your skin. "Yer mine, Y/n. All mine," he whispered, his fingers still inside you, holding his seed in place.
You lay there, breathless and trembling, feeling utterly claimed and cherished by him.
Cregan slowly withdrew his fingers, ensuring that every drop of his cum remained inside you. He gently flipped you onto your back, his eyes filled with an intensity that made your heart race.
As he settled beside you, his strong arms wrapped around your body, pulling you close. His warmth enveloped you, a comforting contrast to the cool air of the room.
He pressed his lips to your forehead, a tender kiss that lingered. Then, he moved to your cheeks, planting soft, loving kisses on each one. His lips brushed your nose, and then he found your lips, kissing you with a gentleness that was almost reverent.
"Y/n" he murmured between kisses, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm so glad ye're mine."
You felt a swell of affection in your chest, the sweetness of his words and the tenderness of his touch filling you with a profound sense of belonging. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as he continued to kiss you.
Cregan's kisses were endless, each one a declaration of his love and devotion. He kissed your eyelids, your temples, your jawline, and your chin, his lips exploring every inch of your face with a loving intensity that made you feel cherished beyond measure.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "So perfect. I want to spend every moment of our lives together, showing ye how much I adore ye."
He held you tighter, his hands stroking your hair, your back, your sides. His touch was soothing, a balm to your still-racing heart.
The rough, demanding lover from moments ago was now a gentle giant, cradling you in his arms with infinite care.
Cregan pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Are ye alright, love?" he asked, his voice soft with concern. "Did I hurt ye?"
You shook your head, smiling up at him. "No, Cregan. You were perfect. I'm more than alright."
His expression softened even further, a look of relief washing over his face. "Good," he whispered, pressing another kiss to your lips. "I'll always take care of ye, Y/n. Always."
You nestled closer to him, resting your head on his broad chest. The rhythmic beat of his heart was a comforting lullaby, and you felt a deep sense of contentment wash over you.
A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground with no one around to see it. The thought lingered in your mind, a symbol of the unexpected beauty and love that had blossomed between you.
Cregan continued to kiss you, his lips never straying far from your skin, as he held you in a protective, loving embrace.
In that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. Cregan's sweet, endless kisses and his tender words were a promise of a future filled with love, passion, and unwavering devotion.
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eunuchve · 1 year ago
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tags: breeding kink, mentioning pregnancy, al haitham is feral, degradation kink (like REALLY degrading), slight yandere at the end? possesiveness? cumflation, gendered term (mother (idk of thats gendered tbh)) + an aftercare (if you could call it that). a.n: *looks at this fic* i did my best i really do pairings: al haitham x afab!reader
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al haitham is a straightforward man.
he talks the talk and walks the walk, he doesn't waste time with idle chitchat and likes to get to the heart of the discussion; whether it is regarding his work, his house, or even you.
so when his cock messages your inside, unrelenting in its pace; you know it is for a purpose. you hear him groan lowly as he continues hitting your g-spot -- shocks of pleasure run through every time he does, leaving your lips open and drooling.
"I will fuck a baby into you," he whispers into your ears, his hand grabbing your thigh, putting your leg over his shoulder to reach even deeper. you mewl the moment you can feel his fat cock hit your cervix, parts you thought he'd never dare to reach.
"hai-hayi-." you gasped- moans his name and your nails digging into his biceps as he has a firm grip on your waist, holding it tight enough to bruise. he would love that probably, another mark to make you his.
"wouldn't you look so gorgeous pregnant?" he rasp, what control he has over his grunts disappear; thrusting his cock deeper, harder, faster. His finger finds your clit, tugging and pinching the little hardened nub till he finally hears your pleas. "Wouldn't you want to be the mother of my children?"
you gulp, unable to focus your vision as another wave of pleasure washes over you, "y-yes, please?" you sound weak, you are trying so hard to have a conversation; he can tell.
"archons look at you." al haitham licks his lips as he grabs your other leg, folding you in half and thrusting his cock at a slower pace; making sure you can feel every bulging vein, every little twitch of his cock. you look at him with pleading eyes, your walls tightening around him, sucking him so nicely, begging for him to flood your insides with his cum.
"my little breeding whore." he slowly pulls his hardened cock out before slamming it inside you again, spearing itself right to your g-spot; going at the same speed as before. "I'll make you pregnant again and again and again."
"yes please please please please please--"
One a final thrust, he felt your walls tightening around him once more, milking him dry and painting your walls white with his warm cum, a visible bulge now right at the base of your tummy.
you let out one final moan before al haitham lets go of your legs, wrapping his arms around you; making sure to not pull out. his uneven breathing so close to your ears, his warm lips made their way to your neck as you weakly wrapped your legs around his hips.
"the mother of my children." his kisses are so light, it contrast the harshness he displayed just a moment ago. "I'll make you completely mine, don't you worry."
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hunnieknight · 1 year ago
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AU Sketch Ideas
Idk just some brain dumping
Series II, Series III Series IV
May contain dark ideas
Farm (4ggravated)
Farmer!Kaveh, Wolf!AlHaitham, GuardDog!Cyno, HybirdVet!Tighnari. Hybrids can turn into their animal form or half-human form with the bottom half being their animal feet.
The reader is Kaveh's spoiled and prized sheep, high-quality wool and very docile and friendly to be on sheep show convention.
The reader doesn't really like Tighnari because he often gives bitter vitamins. Tighnari likes squeezing the wool on the reader when doing a full-body physical examination.
Reader and Cyno often hang out around the farm. the reader just lies down while munching on the grass and Cyno takes guard .
Cyno likes watching Kaveh shears reader, idk he finds it fascinating.
Cyno and Al Haitham often fight because Hayi is a lil shit and wants to steal you, a plump sheep, away from the farm.
Which makes Kaveh calls Tighnari, Tighnari tends to Cyno, and might as well squeeze you again for a 'physical examination' while he is still at the farm.
Kaveh spoils you ROTTEN, treats, snacks, high-quality food, fresh grass and water, love and pats every day.
Hayi steals you..or tries to.
Laboratory (Alchemist Trio)
The trio Alchemist found you and fished you out of the ocean or maybe you got frozen in time and they thawed your ice to study you.
These three are lil shits to you, will never let you go free for science purposes. At least Sucrose would ask every 5 minutes if you need water, Timaeus would bribe you with fruits, and Albedo just straight up pat you like a pet whenever you voice out discomfort during examination.
Water, wet, water.
Three socially inept people and an ancient water creature, yeah..that's basically the idea.
Sucrose is more interested in your physiology, Albedo is more on how this potion and that potion works on your body (reaction), and Timeaus more on how are you beneficial to the humanity and the ocean.
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moonstruckme · 11 months ago
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hayy!! so tonight i went to a small little show that my friend was doing with his band, and me and the bassist made crazy eye contact while he sang the lyrics “good, i’m proud of you” to me. (i’m dead) ANYWAYY it made me think, this is kinda out there but maybe a james potter band au?? like he’s a drummer or bassist and you keep making crazy eye contact and the tension is THICK.. (maybe even some groupie activity later??) IDKK i’d love to see youre interpretation 😋 or even just to chat about it!!! i love you’re work sm
That sounds so fun babe! Thanks for sharing omg <3
cw: bar
rockstar!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
As much as you like Marlene, you’d sort of thought her band was going to be shitty. And in your defense, most of the ones who play this venue, where the crowd is typically too drunk to care what sound fills the space and it only costs a few quid to get in, are pretty amateurish. They’ll play their one or two original songs, then fill the rest of their time with covers, trying all the while to figure out how to work the stage and engage the crowd. 
These guys definitely don’t seem like amateurs. 
Marlene had said they were just starting out, but you don’t believe it. She, as you expected, is incredible. She embodies this fierce, uncaring kind of cool, fingers sliding up and down the neck of her electric guitar with skill you didn’t know she had. The guys in the band aren’t half bad either. The singer has a voice that seems always on the edge of a scream, and he and Marlene play off each other’s energy, him occasionally leaning the mic her way to belt something together. The bassist seems a bit aloof, long fingers moving with an almost lazy dexterity, which seems to be driving the people clustered at the edge of the stage even madder than they might be if he paid them any attention. And the drummer…
Perhaps you’re partial to the drummer because he doesn’t seem like he’s trying to be cool at all. There’s something completely uninhibited about him that lights something in your chest and sends a buzz of excitement through the room, like you’re all feeding off his energy. He looks like he’s having the time of his life. Sweat shines brilliantly on his dusky skin and drips off the ends of curly brown hair that’s just long enough to flop into his eyes. Someone threw him a headband earlier in the show seemingly to help prevent this, so now he’s got it pushed back, curls protruding his head and bouncing as he bobs enthusiastically to the beat. A smile splits his face as he launches into a brief solo, and coincidentally your stomach erupts in butterflies at precisely the same time. 
You’re thinking of trying to jostle your way up to the barricade when the drummer’s eyes take another skim of the crowd, and this time they catch on you. Your heart stutters. A tall figure moves in front of you, obscuring your view of the stage, and when they pass the drummer’s still looking at you. And holy shit. This is eye contact. You’re not totally sure how well he can see you what with the lighting in here, but it feels like his eyes are looking right into yours and saying Hello, nice to meet you. 
A few seconds more and he has to tear his attention away as they go back into the chorus, but your eyes keep finding each other’s. It feels more intimate than it probably should, with several meters of distance between you and the crowded, raucous atmosphere, but you can’t help the giddy lightness that accumulates in your chest over the course of the set. 
During what the singer says will be their last song, his gaze flicks to you with something different in it. It’s not something you can place, but in the next second it’s gone, and all his attention is on his drum solo. You cheer with the rest of the audience as drumsticks fly, almost too quick to see, over the drums and cymbals, and you’re so caught up it takes you a second too long to realize one of them actually is flying. 
Your hands flinch up in front of you just in time, protecting your face and fumbling the drumstick nearly to the ground before you catch it. You look back towards the drummer, and his eyes have flared with alarm. 
“Sorry,” he shouts over the screeching of guitars, earning a glare from the singer a second before all sound cuts out. 
Marlene takes the mic, announcing that they’re done performing for the night but will be available to receive free drinks until closing. The band starts to pack up and leave the stage. 
The crowd splits in two, one half migrating towards the bar and the other towards the exits. You’re not quite sure where to go. You want to meet up with Marlene, maybe give her the drumstick to pass along to her bandmate and thank her for inviting you before you head home, but you’re not bold enough to venture backstage. You cast a glance toward the bar, twirling the wooden stick absentmindedly between your fingers. Maybe you can find a seat to wait for her? 
“You’re not bad at that.” 
You turn, and the drummer from the band is standing behind you. 
“Oh.” You glance down at the drumstick in your hand, feeling a bit silly as you hold it out. “Thanks. Here you go.” 
“Thank you.” His eyes are even better close up. He’s put on glasses, magnifying the warm brown of his irises and the thick, dark lashes that nearly brush his lenses when he blinks. “You looked like you’d be a better catcher.” 
You laugh. “Not sure what would make you think that.” 
“Well, you did manage it in the end.” He smiles. It’s charming with a touch of roguishness, and you get the impression he’s someone accustomed to being forgiven. “Sorry for almost hitting you in the face.” 
You shrug, suddenly unsure what you usually do with your hands. “It happens,” you say. “I don’t take it personally when musicians lose their instruments in my direction.” 
“Oh, well I wasn’t trying to lob it at your head, but tossing it your way wasn’t an accident.” 
Something funny happens in your gut. “It wasn’t?” 
His grin spreads and he shakes his head. “I figured it was my best shot at getting a chance to meet you.” 
Your face heats. You hope you’re not smiling as big as it feels like you are. “You could’ve just asked Marlene,” you say. “No need to throw things.” 
He laughs, a warm and hearty sound. “I’ll have to refine my methods,” he replies. “I’m James.” 
You tell him your name in turn, and he gets this look on his face like it’s the best thing he’s heard all night. 
“Do you wanna join us at the bar for free drinks?” he asks, taking out the headband and ruffling his hair so his curls bounce onto his forehead. It’s more than a little distracting. “I’m sure Marls would love for you to stay.” 
“I…” You glance towards the bar. “I’m pretty sure the free drinks are just for people in the band, no?” 
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” He waves you off, taking your hand and leading you towards the bar. “You won’t be paying regardless. Just tell me what you like.”
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kenobers · 5 months ago
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✨Jason Todd's Bookshelf✨
i think it's so interesting to see what books Jason Todd would read/own, so here's my own contribution! some of these are canon* (hence the *), some are popular headcanons and some are my own speculation. i'll probably continue to add to this.
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The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas*
Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen*
1984 by George (Wh)Orwell*
The Prince by Machiavelli*
The Complete Works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle*
The Art of War by Sun Tzu*
Hamlet*
An additional complete works of William Shakespeare
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë
Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen
One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez
Notes on an Execution by Danya Kukafka
Slouching Towards Bethlehem by Joan Didion
Catcher in the Rye by J.D Salinger
i think Holden Caulfield secretly reminds him of Bruce
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey
Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
Beloved by Toni Morrison
The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
The Metamorphosis and The Trial by Franz Kafka
specifically owns a copy that has both of them in there
Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk
this may be a bit on the nose, but Jason would love a good satire
The Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison
Dream of the Red Chamber by Cao Xueqin
Such a Fun Age by Kiley Reid
Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh
Starling House by Alix E. Harrow
The Road by Cormac McCarthy
Hayy ibn Yaqdhan by Ibu Tufail
East of Eden by John Steinbeck
but lowkey he hates it
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
The Stranger by Albert Camus
The Iliad by Homer
The Outsiders by S.E Hinton
i don't see Jason as being a big fantasy/sci-fi guy unless it falls under the magical realism or gothic categories (i.e, Beloved, Frankenstein), however i do think he would jive with Ray Bradbury, Douglas Adams, Terry Pratchett and (unfortunately) Harlan Ellison
i can also see him jiving with R.F Kuang and i think The Poppy War specifically would be an exception to his usual disinterest in fantasy
i think he maybe also has a stash of paperback Star Wars novels stashed away somewhere
if jason is a theatre kid into adulthood, i think he would be the kind that reads solely straight plays
Fat Ham by James Ijames
Complete Works of Arthur Miller
Everybody by Branden Jacobs-Jenkins
he typically avoids stuff that’s so directly about mortality, but this play would really resonate with him and honestly be a healing read
being the hater that he is, he's also hate read at least one Collen Hoover book (and promptly left it in the Batcave to frame Bruce for the crime)
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pawpiefawn · 2 months ago
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𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓼𝓹𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 .𖥔 ݁ ˖
❤︎ alhaitham x reader 0.6k words cottagecore au reupload + edited from my previous blog.
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your cottage, before you moved in, was a house.
your little red-brick house was something that you’d see from an english period movie, the imagery of little children frolicking and playing in the countryside — it almost seemed more so a prop piece for a show set rather than a cottage in the woods. juniper green ivy climbed the walls, sweet poppies and sunny marigolds sprouted from the earth to say hello – your land was cheerful.
you love collecting the flowers from your garden; they always seem to reappear as soon as you pluck them. the flowers are good, gently held and pressed in between pages of al-haitham's favourite novels as bookmarks – also cheerfully and playfully weaved into al-haitham's hair. seeing the blooms you picked always brought a smile onto his face.
the fresh stream that lives nearby is home to small fishes that travel with the currents – squint hard enough and perhaps you'd see arrietty waving from behind a river plant. the water – cool and sweet, bore witness to much of your laughter and splashing him each other on salty, sweltering summer days.
and your garden – oh, your garden. how blessed you are; a garden so colourful and fruitful. spring bears witness to the sweetest apricots and cherries ; summer says hello to sweet mangoes and fresh strawberries ; fall greets crisp apples and tart cranberries – and winter is the period of frantic churning and mixing of jam and compotes, all ready for the chilly winter to come.
your garden; home to herbs and vegetables that you grow to supply hearty meals to your table. the sweet radishes that are lovingly tended to in the autumn finds its way to harvest baskets . . . baskets that are sweetly put together as presents for your neighbours.
al-haitham always picks the best of each harvest to give away. there's something preciously sweet about it – perhaps you've rubbed your childlike kindness off onto your husband. the best we own should be given to others.
now, your cottage – home to sweet laughs that spill from your husband's mouth that you were always greedy for. his soft touches, a pleasant and constant reminder that i am here ; ever so fleeting of his warmth meeting yours.
a home so full of love and the sweet light of spring... a home of laughter, and warmth, and constant intimacy of tender kisses on your cheek and the resting of your forehead against his.
"good morning."
"hayi! good morning!" you find yourself squealing as al-haitham peppers your face with his sweet kisses, giggling as he kissed your reddened cheeks – then your forehead – then your nose – and your supple lips.
"mmmph." he rests his head against yours and leans in, soaking in your warmth.
how rare is it that he gets a morning with his sweet darling, all to yourself?
"what do you want for breakfast?"
you watch him, hands on his hip and peering into your fridge stocked full of food. it's almost comical how homely your husband is now as compared to his younger self – you stifle a small giggle.
"..."
"what?"
"nothing!"
"tell me." al-haitham turns to look at you.
"i said it's nothing!" a petulant whine slips past your lips. delightfully soft giggles fill the room as al-haitham makes his way over to you – a comfortable, light morning.
"tell me." your husband gently pokes your sides, playfully frustrated with your refusal to tell him what was so funny.
"it's just . . . you look so cute like this." you grin sweetly up at him.
"...like what?"
"like my husband!"
a soft silence fills the room – thoughtful contemplation as he takes in your endearing excitement – before al-haitham breaks out into rare, unbridled chuckles. you're too cute for him, he thinks. how did someone so seemingly opposite of him fall so deeply in love?
indeed, it's true – your cottage, so filled with love and the sweet light of spring, is a home.
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twstgarden · 1 year ago
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❀ ❝ 𝗽𝗲𝘁 𝗯𝘂𝗻𝗻𝘆 𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 ❞
━ riddle rosehearts, ace trappola, ruggie bucchi, malleus draconia x gn! reader ━ good old headmaster, dumping his tasks onto you. surely, you're used to this, no? however, this time, you were tasked to take care of a bunny that belonged to a friend of the headmaster. you decided to seek help from your dearest, but how will it go? (f/n means first name)
requested by: @r0sevipxr request type: headcanons requester's message: Hayy, lady phantomhive! First of all i hope you're having a wonderful day,week,month whatever! I apologize if this request is long ish? (BTW I ABSOLUTELY ADORE YOUR AESTHETIC!! Its so elegant and pretty and fairy gala ortho is one of the best and prettiest cards in the whole game!!!) (And im very interested in your skill of writing mystery and horror.. thats so unique!) Im thinking of silly fluff headcanons with Riddle, Ace, Malleus and Ruggie (separated) The backstory is: crowley being his idiot self is accidentally forced to take care of a random old mage's pet bunny for a couple weeks. But instead, he dumps all the work and responsibility on the reader because he has "more important duties to attend to" (👹). Reader asks the character for help! Will we succeed? or almost kill the bunny and crowleys head is chopped off? Who knows! florist's note: hello, dearie. thank you, i hope you're having a great day as well. this request is quite lighthearted, i love it. hope you enjoyed, though i realised some of these are quite short. thank you for the request, little one. &lt;3
this work does not contain spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia’s arc.
do not steal or translate without my permission.
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━ 𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨 ━
headcanon: riddle can take care of a rabbit effortlessly. you, however, cannot... and it caused you two to lose the rabbit somewhere in heartslabyul's resident building.
"...pardon?"
you and the headmaster were standing face-to-face as he held a bunny with a smile on his face. "i said, can you please look after this bunny for me? i have a meeting to attend to and i cannot bring a pet with me, now can i?" spoke the headmaster once more, making you sigh as you begrudgingly grabbed the bunny from him.
"why me? surely, there are other students that are well-equipped. why not leave him in heartslabyul?" you questioned, raising a brow as the bunny settled in your arms while you were busy talking to the headmaster.
"no time to talk! bye!"
there he goes again. as if he was in a rush, the headmaster runs off, leaving you in the hallway with the white bunny in your arms. you sighed heavily before looking down at the animal that seemed to find your arms a cosy place to nuzzle on.
speaking of heartslabyul, you decided to visit your dearest beloved in case he could help you with your little rabbit duties.
...
"...so you wish to let me assist you in taking care of a bunny that the headmaster entrusted to you?" asked riddle as his gaze flickered between your pleading eyes and the rabbit's innocent one. you nodded in response as you held the bunny upwards, "yes! i'm just afraid i might do something to this bunny accidentally and kill it! the headmaster told me it belongs to his friend and he's supposed to take care of it for a couple of weeks."
"but then, that should be the headmaster's responsibility," replied riddle. you sighed, "but you know he dumps his duties on me..." riddle hummed in response, not wanting to reply further to avoid disrespecting the head mage, even if he knew of his tendencies.
with a sigh and a small smile, he patted the bunny's head, "alright, but there are certain ground rules we need to follow when taking care of a bunny." your eyes lit up with joy as you smiled at riddle, "i knew i could count on you!"
...
"no, wait, f/n! you're not supposed to give milk to an adult rabbit!" warned riddle as he saw you reaching for the milk powder container on the cupboard, making you look back at him with a curious look. "really? the headmaster told me to feed it milk and grass..."
riddle placed his palm on his forehead, "feeding them milk will cause digestive problems, dear. here, you can feed the rabbit with one cup of fresh grass." he then handed you a cup filled with freshly cut grass from the dormitory garden. you thanked him and placed it in the bunny's cage as the animal started to eat its meal, leaving the door of the cage open as you added a cup of clean water beside the grass meal.
once the rabbit started eating, you sighed in relief and smiled at riddle, "thanks for helping out. the headmaster even gave me the wrong information... if it wasn't for you, this rabbit might have had diarrhoea by now."
"you're welcome. i don't think the headmaster has the proper idea on how to take care of a rabbit..." trailed off riddle as he turned around to grab a few things from the cupboard, while you also turned around to grab a glass of water for yourself.
and once you two got back to the kitchen counter, you saw the half-eaten cup of grass and a half-filled cup of clean water in the cage, with no signs of the bunny.
"...where did he go?"
"i don't know..." you replied before you placed your glass on the table and ran off the kitchen to search for the lost rabbit, making riddle trail along with you as he called for his dormmates, ordering them to search for the rabbit at once.
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━ 𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙡𝙖 ━
headcanon: due to his flamingo and hedgehog care duties, he knew a thing or two when it comes to handling animals - though, he does have a record for sometimes losing them all over the heartslabyul garden. however, this time, he has it under control as long as you take care of the rabbit with him.
"woah~ a bunny!" exclaimed ace as he passed by the hallway and saw you holding a rabbit which was given to you prior to the headmaster's sudden escape. you turned to face him and handed it to him, "hold this for me."
"where did you get this?" asked ace as he held the bunny that you handed to him. "the headmaster is making me take care of it in his stead... you know, as usual," you spoke as you grabbed your smartphone and started searching through the olympus search engine to find ways on how to properly take care of a bunny.
"you're searching? psh, we can handle this! not to brag, but i have taken care of animals in my dorm... well... my demon dorm leader makes me, but... it still counts!" there was a cheeky smile on ace's face as he said those words, making you raise a brow in amusement as you continued reading through the search engine results.
after reading the do's and don'ts and the diet that rabbits should take, you were confident that everything would go smoothly. you followed ace back to your dorm and grim eyed the new intruder with a stink eye, "why is there a rabbit in here?"
"the headmaster dumped it on me," you replied as ace sat on your couch and played with the rabbit, finding it easy to handle it for the time being. grim sat beside ace, looking at the rabbit as he spoke, "so you're on pet-sitting duty? hehehe."
you had a bored expression on as grim tried to tease you, but you knew he was wrapped up in this order as well.
"did the headmaster leave some food for the little thing?" asked ace, making you shake your head. "all he told me was to take care of the rabbit and that it belonged to a friend... and he is supposed to take care of it for a couple of weeks, but he handed it to me," you replied as you started searching through your kitchen cabinets in case you have anything that was supposedly included in the rabbit's diet.
"ehhh~ i'm starting to feel sorry for you," spoke ace in a rather lighthearted tone as he laughed a little, letting you know that he was only joking around and messing with you. "hmph, anyway, i'll drop by sam's and see if he has some rabbit food in there. behave," you spoke, directing your last order to both ace and grim.
they gave you a rather sheepish smile with a thumbs-up, and though you did not trust those smiles one bit, you had no choice but to leave the dorm for a while, hoping they wouldn't do anything and possibly lose the rabbit.
surprisingly, everything was going smoothly. ace lived up to his word as he knew what to do to make sure the bunny remained well-fed, entertained, and satisfied. by the end of the day, you and ace were asleep on the couch, your head on his shoulder and the rabbit on his lap. grim was asleep beside you, resting peacefully after a long day of tending to the rabbit and getting used to the idea of taking care of one.
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━ 𝙧𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙘𝙝𝙞 ━
headcanon: he knows. he just knows. of course, he won't assist you for free.
"ohh~ a rabbit."
ruggie's voice caught your attention as he peered from behind you while you were standing in the hallway, bewildered at the headmaster's audacity in running off after dumping his responsibility on you. you should have gotten used to it by now, but even then, you still can't believe he has the nerve to do such a thing.
"that headmaster... ugh..." you groaned under your breath, making ruggie laugh a little as he looked at you and then at the bunny. "shishishi, poor n/n~" teased the savanaclaw second year, making you sigh as you looked at him.
"you know how to take care of animals, right? i mean, your best subject is animal linguistics! i'm sure you can talk to this rabbit and figure out what he wants at certain times!" you spoke, aware of your dearest's abilities and hoping he would help you.
"hmmm~ i won't do it for free, though," mumbled ruggie as he was starting to think to himself before giving you his usual grin, "shishi~ how about dinner in exchange for helping you?"
you raised a brow in response, "are you asking me to go on a date or do you actually just want the food?"
"both!"
you laughed a little and sighed, "fine~ my treat." ruggie gleamed with joy as he grabbed the bunny from you and walked with you back to ramshackle. on your way back, you and ruggie were conversing about your day while he pats the head of the rabbit, making you grin a little at how adorable he was.
i mean, technically, you've never seen a hyena with a rabbit, and as far as you know, rabbits are part of the smaller prey that hyenas tend to hunt in the wild.
"i know what that grin means," spoke ruggie as he gave you a displeased expression. you chuckled in response and smiled at him, "i was just thinking that you look quite adorable~ hehehe~"
"hmmm... did the headmaster drop off the food of this little thing, too?" asked ruggie, trying to change the subject as he looked at the rabbit that was eyeing you both. you shook your head in response, "nope, not at all... we should head to sam's shop."
at the end of the day, ruggie seemed to have been taking care of it for the majority of the time. once the rabbit fell asleep, you opted for ordering dinner online to make sure the rabbit wouldn't be left alone in the dorm and may run away due to less supervision.
you were sure grim won't keep an eye on the rabbit, anyway.
as you took a bite of your meal, ruggie seemed delighted to be having his dinner with you in your dormitory. you both were seated on the couch with the television turned on, letting a random channel play through to function as background noise while the rabbit remained asleep in its cage.
"thank you for the meal~" spoke ruggie with a happy tone as he continued having his dinner.
"thank you for helping me," you replied with a smile as you sipped on your beverage, bringing both of your hands up to high-five one another for a job well done.
"shishishi, we make a great team~"
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━ 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙪𝙨 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙖 ━
headcanon: though he is knowledgeable, taking care of a small prey like a rabbit is one thing he isn't familiar with. as a result, both of you try to navigate through this responsibility.
"hm? what are you doing in here, dearest?"
malleus' voice caught you off guard as you turned around with the bunny in your arms, looking up at him as you sighed, "ah, the headmaster was here a moment ago. he left me this rabbit to take care of..."
malleus raised a brow in response, "a rabbit? i do not recall the headmaster ever having a pet rabbit..." you chuckled in response, "it belongs to a friend of his and he was supposed to take care of it for a few weeks, but he says he has some 'important things to take care of'."
you rolled your eyes in response before heaving a sigh, holding the rabbit to your chest, "well, at least the rabbit's cute..." malleus hummed in response as you both started to walk together back to your dorm. an idea suddenly came through your head as you looked up at him, "hey, um... mal, can you help me? i don't think i can take care of a bunny alone..."
malleus was stunned to hear your request. though he is quite unaware of pet-sitting a rabbit, he did not want to turn you down. he gave you a smile and said, "you request my assistance? now, how can i say no to your request?"
you smiled, feeling happy that you wouldn't be taking care of a rabbit alone.
needless to say, he was just as clueless as you.
"from my knowledge, the grass is included in a rabbit's diet. however, this one seems reluctant to eat it, " spoke malleus as he eyed the rabbit. they simply stared at the small bowl of grass before them before taking a few steps back, nuzzling themselves in their cage with obvious discomfort.
"...maybe they're not hungry...?" you trailed off, tilting your head as you sighed and patted the bunny's head. malleus seemed disappointed that the both of you were not going anywhere with your pet-sitting duties for the past 3 hours.
you decided to look through some useful sites while malleus stood beside you, watching you navigate through the device and reading through some rabbit care guides. "hmm... we should place the bunny in a quiet and secure place... let's go upstairs," you spoke as you looked at malleus, making him nod in response as you both went upstairs with the bunny.
"and we should bond with the bunny so they warm up to us..." you added as you sat beside the rabbit cage, leaving the door open so they would step out and get used to the environment.
so far, you have been adjusting quite well and it reached the point where the bunny also warmed up to malleus, no longer feeling intimidated and instead, prefers to snuggle with malleus at the end of the day.
it seems as though your temporary pet-sitting unexpectedly turned you both into rabbit parents.
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© twstgarden 2023 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.
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funpuddle · 10 months ago
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Hayy doing painted comms as well as the simple ones. Could be in CSP like the first two (170-200$) or an experimental procreate painting like the last two (100$) dm me to claim
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vellhandle · 2 years ago
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Kaveh, drunk out of his mind, found himself resting on Alhaitham's shoulder, wine still in hand. "Alhaitham," He sighed, "Should we get married? Let's get married."
Alhaitham looked at the blond with furrowed brows. For a moment, hurt was evident in his eyes before he turned away. "...Don't say such things in front of me like that."
Confused by the response, Kaveh cupped the other's cheek, bringing back Alhaitham's gaze to him. "What do you mean by that...? Alhaitham?" 
He didn't respond for a while. The scribe sat there with his eyes shut, leaning to the touch. Hesitantly, he rested his hand on Kaveh's, rubbing the knuckles with the pad of his thumb. He looked so... conflicted. But why? Kaveh didn't understand. 
He withdrew a shaky breath before opening his eyes again. Suddenly, those teal eyes, often so cold and indifferent, were filled with a sort of melancholy that cracked with a knowing hurt.
"...It's because you won't remember," he answered. "There's no point in accepting empty promises. So don't say such things if you won't know how much you'll hurt the receiver when you wake up."
"But... But Hayi... I really like you." Kaveh slowly pressed his forehead against Alhaitham's, earnest eyes looking into uncharacteristically uncertain ones. "There's no way I'll forget this, I just proposed!"
"...Please don't look at me with that."
"With what?"
"With those flushed cheeks and doting eyes. It makes me lose what little rational judgment I have left when it comes to you."
"Then lose it," He urged, "I prefer it if you do."
That was when Alhaitham reeled back, and Kaveh lost his new source of warmth.
"Tell me those words when you're sober."
True to his predictions, Kaveh hardly remembered a thing. He only remembered the look of pain in Alhaitham's eyes, as if he made a mistake when he was drunk out of his mind. It wouldn't be that surprising, considering that Alhaitham had told him he kept causing a ruckus whenever he was intoxicated.
So to preserve whatever dignity left in him, Kaveh apologized the next morning. 
"I'm sorry," He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I was out of line. I must've said something ridiculous when I was drunk."
Alhaitham crossed his arms. Kaveh was quick to read Alhaitham's expression. Despite his impassive expression, he noticed the slight crease on his brow, the quiet yet sharp puff of breath. "Pray tell, do you remember what you said to me last night?"
"I... don't." He admitted. He really couldn't recall his actions. He tried. The only thing that haunted him was the pained look on Alhaitham's face that night. He had seldom seen that expression on him, and perhaps that was why it was so ingrained into his memory. Guilt churned in his stomach. Gingerly, he placed a hand on the scribe's shoulder, a feeble attempt at reassurance. "But whatever it is that I did, I know you definitely didn't like it. So I'll apologize for last night. I'll make it up to you, I promise."
He expected a retort or nagging words to come out of Alhaitham's mouth, but he remained silent. He didn't respond for a while. The scribe stood there with his eyes shut, leaning away from Kaveh's touch. Hesitantly, he rested his hand on Kaveh's, before brushing the hand off his shoulder. He looked so... defeated. But why? Kaveh didn't understand.
He withdrew a shaky breath before opening his eyes again. Suddenly, those teal eyes, often so cold and indifferent, were filled with a sort of melancholy that cracked with a knowing hurt.
Kaveh's heart sank.
"There is no substance in apologizing about something you don't remember." He finally spoke.
"Then tell me what I did! If it's that bad, you should tell me-!"
"Then forget it," He interjected. Kaveh wanted to retaliate. He wanted to beg for context, but something in Alhaitham's words, his phrasing, stunned the blond to silence. "I prefer it if you do."
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penissekai · 4 months ago
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hayy i saw u were doing rqs and i wanted to ask if u could plz make a nagi seishiro graphic :3 tysm
Why is bro a wet cat
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Lmk if anything needs to be edited or remade !!! I have a bunch of spare time over the weekend :333
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