#does he accept them as part of himself? is he scared of what he could do?

[kurikorso]

bro idk if I'm gonna be at all coherent about this but like. when a character has a power or a trait or an ability or something that makes them cool/beautiful/special but it's also indicative of something wrong with them or something they hate about themselves or something that needs to be given up that will make them happier. like this was a part of them for so long, a defining trait, and now it's gone and they've changed irreparably. it was for the better but you still feel loss and grief and you're guilty about it because it's a good thing. that's so transgender to me. i dunno

[wintergrofyuri]

"(blank) hates laios!" WRONG WRONG WRONG. SHUT THE FUCK UP

shuro is just as awkward as laios and it is made So clear he considers him a friend and likes him. he defends him when the canaries start talking shit and actively readies himself to physically fight them so they dont get to him.

namari also likes laios. she respects him as a leader and also defends him and readies to fight the canaries.

ive not actually seen anyone claim izutsumi hates laios, but a lot of ppl Are weird abt them. izutsumi and laios' relationship was rocky at the beginning. he struggled to figure out how to interact with her. but by the end, she actively seeks him out to talk with during the lead up to the feast. she hides behind him when falin wakes up. she has already realized shecan do what she wants and does not need to stick around, yet she does. she sleeps near him on the windowsill, waiting with him and marcille for falin to wake up. she has accepted him as part of her life and wants to keep him in it.

marcille does not hate laios. let me say this again.

Marcille Donato Does Not Hate Laios Touden.

marcille Loves him. in a platonic, familial sense. laios returns this just as readily. she yells at him. she whacks him. she tells him whats on her mind. she uses healing magic to ease his pain during the parasite fiasco. she reattaches his leg when he loses it. she teaches him magic. she lays her head on his corpse and cries before reviving him. she launches herself at him two times, when the canaries interrogate them and when he talks her down in the tower. he is a comforting presence to her. she trusts him, she cares about him, she worries about him, she imagines him as a big fluffy dog that loves and protects her. laios is her rock when falin is taken from them time and time again. and she tries to be his as well. she whole-heartedly, unconditionally, loves and trusts laios.

chilchuck does not hate laios. laios pays him his rates, no questions asked. laios trusts and respects chilchuck's job as a lockpick. laios does not see him as a child (at least, i cant think of an instance where he does so). chilchuck states, outright, he sees him as a friend and doesnt want to see him hurt. he actively worries about him as the falin situation gets worse. chilchuck respects laios. he shows almost 0 hesitation in helping get falin back, nor eating her by the end. he does not think of leaving him once, until he realizes he could lose him. chilchuck is cowardly with emotions and prefers to bottle things, so his first instinct was to bolt. he was angry because he was scared of watching someone he cares about destroy himself. laios is his Friend.

and holy shit. holy Fucking shit. kabru DOES NOT hate laios. kabru has the rockiest start known to man with him, and he Still helps him by occupying the canaries. he warns him about them. he hides the black magic from them just as shuro does. his whole Thing is trusting laios despite himself. kabru has his own baggage regarding other people, just like laios, yet he tries so hard to believe and trust this man. he Wants to. kabru is not very hopeful, but laios makes him Want to be. he states like 3 times he wants to be close to him and sees him as a friend. he stays through the entire feast!! the man who hates monsters, whose biggest trigger is monsters, actively, consciously, Willingly stayed through the entire monster meat feast. all to help his friend get his sister back. he could've left!! the feast was like an entire week!! yet he was there for every single day. he was one of the closest people to the door when falin awoke!! after reuniting with her brother, her friends, the people who knew her the most (plus senshi and izutsumi), the first person she greets is kabru!! he wants to be close to laios, he likes laios, laios is his friend and he cares for him, he wants to meet his sister!!! kabru fucking stays on the island with him as one of his closest, most trusted advisors when he becomes king!!!!! he wants to help him succeed!!!! he wants him to be happy!!!! laios is his friend!!!!!!!!

im just. people like laios!! laios is a nice guy! he is friendly and cares about people! he is weird, he doesn't understand most social cues, he oversteps boundaries, but they stay beside him, because they like him and he is their friend. he is their friend!!!!! friendship is not all sunshine and rainbows, relationships in general are not sunshine and rainbows. you will upset people, people will upset you, you will get into arguments, things will happen, but at the end of the day, the people close to you like you! they love you! they care for you! they want to work it out and get through it because they love you, but they will feel those emotions first! human relationships are complex and messy and life is complicated. even shows for toddlers know this.

if you truly believe any of these characters hate laios you are worse than a toddler. watch some fucking oobi or something. god. fuck.

take this

thanks

[fettery-fetterie]

Post cancelled it was #tw bad

Except this:

Tostito: *head in hands* oh my fucking god

[dreameralive]

i think one of the most noteworthy things about Blaise that i haven't really seen anyone discuss is his tendency to liken others to children, his weaponization of it, its relation to him being a child abuser, and its relation to his defeat.

one of his first lines of dialogue, before he even introduces himself, is him humiliating Franziska by calling her 'little von Karma', and then bringing up something retroactively embarrassing she did as a little girl.

he frames this as genuine nostalgia, but to me, it's pretty clear this was a purposeful, and almost sadistic, powerplay.

there's also these lines. these aren't too strange, out of context - "let's all play nice" is a relatively common phrase, and in the second screenshot where he's discussing Kay and Edgeworth's friendship, they are literally youths (well, compared to him). but in context, it's clear that this is part of him attempting to assert his dominance over everyone else.

he wants to let everyone know that he is the adult here, and all they are is children - and thereby, they are completely powerless to his end-all authority, so they shouldn't even bother attempting to resist. this is further emphasized during his logic chess segment.

he calls Edgeworth 'my boy', he reminds him that he is his 'senior in life', he tells him he's being naïve. he threatens to never give back his prosecutors badge if he doesn't stop trying to question his authority. he asks him, mockingly, if he's scared. then, while grinning, he tells him that there is nothing he can do, and he should give up already.

he once again, more blatantly this time, is attempting to force someone else into accepting that they are the weaker party and that he could do anything he pleased to them, and once again, he is weaponizing the societal power imbalance between a child and an adult to do so.

i could go on and on for a while with more examples of this, but then that would make this post really long and rambly. so, instead, i'm going to discuss what his behavior ultimately results in.

this is probably one of the most disturbing interactions in Ace Attorney.

he does this purely so Sebastian will feel humiliated and ashamed in front of his colleagues, people he respects and who in turn are supposed to respect him. he does this to remind Sebastian that he is his father, and Sebastian is his child. to Blaise, that means he has complete control over him. and until this point? he actually does.

he has controlled every aspect of Sebastian's life to be exactly how he wants it. his path in life, his school, his tests - even Sebastian's constant usage of his surname serves as a reminder that Sebastian's only purpose to his father is to be an extension of him, a tool to feed into his ego. an object. something he owns.

note how, in their sprites, Sebastian is typically tilting his head slightly downwards, and in his crying sprites, he's leaning down. meanwhile Blaise stands high, and in his grinning sprites, his head is tilted up, as to literally look down on the person he's talking to.

but in the end, right before Blaise is convicted, right as Blaise tells him he should just remain his idiot son, Sebastian is looking up as he tells him goodbye. a way of saying that he's not beneath him, and he won't let him act like it anymore.

Blaise is immediately infuriated by this, and says all you've ever been able to do is depend on me. he screams Sebastian's name in anger - but it's cut off.

in fact, there is no more dialogue from Blaise after this. because he has no more authority, no more ability to scare Sebastian or anyone else into submission. in the end, Sebastian has finally taken back his autonomy that Blaise has robbed him of. so has Kay. so has Simon. all of them are children he has mistreated, threatened, and jerked around for his own selfish gain, but ultimately, they all still have more power over their own lives than he ever will again.

there's a lot more i could say on this, but these are all my thoughts i could organize. thanks for reading.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Whew you came in time. I’d like to request Wolverine (from the Deadpool movie in particular) with a very caring and affectionate s/o. Once again, my weakness for grumpy/traumatized individual x sunshine shows

Logan oftentimes wondered why you, someone so kindhearted and willing to do anything just to see someone smile, stayed by his side especially after everything he’s done.

He didn’t believe himself to be that great of a partner either when it counted but you’d always shone him that beautiful smile of yours and told him that he was anything but a bad partner. Oh how he too wishes he could accept that as the definitive truth but given how he had lead his life up until meeting you, Logan couldn’t help but think otherwise.

He had lost the ability to trust a long time ago and would instead double down on an inherited belief that he didn’t need nobody but himself, assuming that he was meant to walk this life a lone wolf he believed himself to be. Unfortunately for Logan he was a human as everybody else and humans more often then not craved connection, relationships and so on with other human beings.

Logan was no exception to this rule, no matter how often he thinks he’s not, but has forced himself to the point where he physically couldn’t stay within the presence of someone the moment he starts to deeply care for them. He couldn’t bear to be the reason someone else dies, regardless whether his part was intentional or unintentional.

So when you came into his life like a shining beacon, a second chance, everything within him told him to run away and maintain distance so that his bad luck doesn’t rub off on you and causes to to be sent to an easy grave. However you were rather stubborn for someone so soft and sweet that no matter what Logan did to put distance between the two of you, you were quick to close the distance with a knowing look within your eyes as you placed a hand on his shoulder.

‘It’s okay.’ You tell him. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Don’t promise something you don’t intend to uphold.’ He replies as he then shrugs off your hand and walks elsewhere. He wasn’t going to make it easy for you, that you were aware and were willing to anything to make him see that you weren’t lying, but what you weren’t aware was how easily you had slipped past Logan’s guard much to his dismay and that made him scared.

He had already lost Scott, jean, ororo, beast and many more due to his actions, the wounds were too fresh to be ignored as their screams of his name haunted his dreams as they did his waking life. He didn’t want to add your name amongst the seemingly never ending graveyard that was his loved ones, past, present and future. And yet he couldn’t help but find himself wanting to do everything in his power to make sure you were safe and protected.

His body was torn in two directions on how to go about you, leave you alone until you see that he wasn’t any good for you, or stay by your side and make sure that no harm ever does come to touch you. ever.

You were there during every turbulent moment of his life, watched him tear things apart and show the ugliest side of himself in hopes it would scare you away, but all you did was step over the dead bodies and hold his face in your hands as your thumbs wiped the blood from his cheeks.

‘Are you okay? You’re not hurt?’ You’d ask and Logan would always be left a little speechless because how can you still see the good in him after seeing firsthand what he could do when tested. He was confused at how you could still smile at him so sweetly while clearing him of blood that wasn’t his, he didn’t understand what he did to deserve you.

For all Logan knew was that he was cursed and shouldn’t be allowed a happy existence but yet life sent him the sweetest, most kind and honest person in the form of you as what? Repentance for all the shit he’s been through? Like he’d ever believe life would ever give him a fucking break when all it’s ever done but take everything away from him, even when he was doing okay for himself.

He saved lives but the ones closest to him were taken away, and even when he does take lives the people closest to him still suffer regardless. So what was Logan meant to take away from that other than the fact that he was doomed for the very moment he could heal a gun wound as though it were a scratch.

However overtime and a fuckton of patience on your behalf and soon enough Logan was more reciprocal of your affection and care, even going so far as to give you his own affection in his own unique way that wasn’t grunts and unconvincing reassurance of his own well being. He had grown a soft spot for you but he didn’t care, he loved your soft heart and the sweet sounds you made whenever he felt a little flirtatious then normal.

You were slowly healing the wounds that his regenerative powers could not and Logan couldn’t help but be thankful that you didn’t give up on him, nor leave him alone when you probably should’ve but wouldn’t because you didn’t want him to be alone anymore.

He isn’t one for pda, the most Logan would do was sling an arm over your shoulder, keep you close by his side with his arm on your waist as he glared at anyone who was tempted to take his little sunshine from him.

You described him as moody, temperamental, stubborn, a pain in the ass and then called him a grey storm cloud on a sunny day. Many would say that they were all negative things but you’d then reply with ‘yet they all look good on him.’ Because it was true. They did look good on him and you weren’t about to express pride in the good you see in him without acknowledging that he was a man of many flaws and scars. You wanted to show that your love for Logan was genuine and real, show him that you weren’t excepting him to be the perfect man with the life he’s lived, and you hoped that he could see that he meant everything to you.

And he did see because you meant everything to him in return, he’d tear everything apart with his bare hands if anything were to ever happen to you and he wasn’t nearby to stop it. He was like an unstoppable force to be reckoned with that he wouldn’t even acknowledge the bullet wounds nor the blood, not until you cup his face once more in your hands and wipe away the blood on his cheeks like you have plenty of times before.

‘You sure are a mucky pup Logan.’ You’d say lightheartedly as though he didn’t just tear apart an entire facility for you.

‘How you aren’t fazed by this I’ll never know.’ He replied but was relived to see that you were unharmed before pulling you into his arms, where he held you tightly to his chest just to breath you in while you cling to him in return, happy to see him as you felt safe and sound in his arms again.

‘Well when your lumberjack of a partner is the temperamental type, it kinda comes with the territory to expect him to come home a little bloody.’ You told him as you burrowed your head into his neck and closed your eyes, only to squeal in surprise when Logan pinched your side. ‘For someone who’s sweet and gentle, you sure are a sneaky shit aren’t you?’ Logan said as he felt you silently giggle but couldn’t help but smile himself as he presses a kiss to your head. Happy to have been given a second shot a life, a happier shot and with you no less.

[mayiluv]

Jealousy meter☆(Hashiras ft. Kamaboko squad)

Masterlist

Kyojuro Rengoku

█░░░░░░░░░ 10%

He isn't jealous at all ! He trust you! But he doesn't trust others just as much.

He often worries whenever he sees someone making you uncomfortable. If the person make it obvious that they are hitting on you, he won't hesitate to hold your hand and get in front of the person to proudly claim you (and to make you feel better).

"Sorry but they're taken!"

Agatsuma Zenitsu

█████░░░░░50%

He is possessive from time to time.

Like he do trusts Tanjiro and most hashiras (surprisingly) but he tends to get pretty jealous at strangers. Whenever he sees you talking to one with a little too much closeness, he run to get next to you and to kiss you. It's like you two are fighting now.

"Sorry [Name] I just wanted to make sure that they got the hint."

"Zenitsu that's my cousin-"

"THEY ARE ?!"

Sanemi Shinazugawa

████████░░ 80%

Man he's jealous...

He would clearly tell anyone that he judges too close to you to fuck off. He doesn't wants to share you. Even if you tell him there is nothing to worry about. He accept when it's the hashiras except Giyuu. I guess he got something against him.

"Get lost, she's already mine fuckface."

Genya Shinazugawa

█████░░░░░ 50%

That's a 50/50. It actually depends.

He's actually more insecure about himself and that's what makes him doubt your love for him. When he sees you with someone else he usually goes full on koala mode and stay gripped to your arm.

"When are we going?"

Kanroji Mitsuri

██░░░░░░░░ 20%

She's not jealous. She's scared.

She's scared you'll find someone better and when she sees you with someone else a part of her always feel like she's not enough. You can easily see when she's feeling down, and you just have to remind her with a hug and she'll feel better.

"Sorry! I'm just scared you'll leave me"

Obanai Iguro

███████░░░ 70%

He pretty jealous

Most of the time he'll send Kaburamaru around your neck and people get the hint. But if they don't then...he'll go give them the hint himself. And by that I mean he would roast the shit outta them.

"Back off. Nobody would want to date your dirty goofy no bitches no purpose no friends no standards person."

Tanjiro Kamado

█░░░░░░░░░ 10%

He's never jealous.

If you think Kyojuro is kind then he's another level. He's like a ball of sunshine, he would talk happily not knowing that someone was hitting on you. But he does feels a little insecure when je sees you with someone else. He won't say it but he would cling onto you a little bit more.

"Do you love me?"

Himejima Gyomei

░░░░░░░░░░ 0%

He trusts you 100% and being a man of religion he has no doubt in your love. He does tho wonder if he could satisfy you enough since he's blind. He's just as capable as any men but he gets insecure from time to time due to his past.

"I promise I will try my best to protect you [name]"

Hashibira Inosuke

█████████░ 90%

He is easily jealous.

No matter who he sees with you he'll be growling at them. But he doesn't quite seems to understand love at all so he wouldn't be possessive but he still do get jealous and will NOT be ashamed of yelling at anyone.

"How dare you talk to the great Inosuke Hashibira's partner !"

Kocho Shinobu

█████░░░░░ 50%

She isn't JEALOUS, she's just overprotective.

She's more scared for your health than jealous. She's scared that you get too gullible and will fall for traps and/or get hurts by them. Poor her will try to prevent you from everyone and remind you of stranger danger.

"I do trust you [Name], but I think you're a little too innocent for your own good."

Tsuyuri Kanao

████░░░░░░ 40%

She's not really jealous.

She isn't jealous but she doesn't like seeing people hit on you. There was once you knew she was jealous because she looked at the person talking to you and she was STARING. The person got afraid and quickly apologized and left. She'll deny any accusation.

"I did not do that."

Tokito Muichiro

██████░░░░ 60%

He's easily bothered.

He would see you with someone he judges too close and full on hug your side and fix the person with that one glare. As if to brat about his partner and how lucky he is compared to the guy, he may even bite on your neck while the person's here. As soon as you're gone he would stay and probably roast that person.

"You look like you're a grand grandfather/mother if she/he didn't pass away."

Uzui Tengen

█░░░░░░░░░ 10%

He's chill

He got three wives already so he got used to this feeling. Now he actually feel proud when someone's hitting on you and will full on start talking about how amazing you are and how he's lucky to have you.

"Yes they're flashy ! I totally get why you like them, such a shame they're already taken by me."

Tomioka Giyu

███░░░░░░░ 30%

He can get jealous from time to time.

He doesn't talk a lot, and even less express his emotions. So it's a pain trying to figure out what's going on inside his head. However when he's jealous, he doesn't really tell you he just act like nothing's happening because he judges it negative to tell you about it. If you manage to find out then, congratulations you made a new step in your relationship!

"Oh.... I didn't know, sorry [Name]"

Kamado Nezuko

██░░░░░░░░ 20%

She's protective

Whenever she sees someone making you uncomfortable she'll come by your side to hug you and glare at the person when you're not looking. If the person doesn't get the hint she'll probably start growling at them. But overall, she's adorable and let anyone talk to you.

"Mmhp mhp mmph!" (I love you !)

Talk to me!

[starogeorgina]

𝐔𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧

Paring: Aemond Targaryen × Targaryen reader, minor Daemon Targaryen × Targaryen reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut, kidnapping, sexual blackmail, self harm

1.02

Feeling a dip in the bed, fresh tears swell your eyes. You freeze. The hour was late, and the only source of light in the room was from the moon and the single candle you had lit for your nephew, Lucerys Velaryon. Rhaenyra’s life was shattered into a thousand unfixable pieces because of what Aemond did at the end of the storm. Only if the gods had not made him so hot-tempered. Nothing would be the same again. You weren’t a fool like your brother, who threw a feast to celebrate; Rhaenyra and Daemon would be coming for all of you with fire and blood.

It was advised by the master that you sleep on your left side for the remainder of your pregnancy, and every night your husband would sleep on the same side and hold you close, making sure you wouldn’t roll into a different position. When you feel Aemond’s hand resting against the thin, silky fabric covering your swollen belly, wracking sob escapes you.

“Did you mean to do it?”

“No.”

By the time salty tears reach your lips, the room is completely silent. What could either of you say? He rubs small circles on your stomach; Aemond did that most nights, and sometimes he’d feel the baby move. You often joked that it was your unborn child’s way of telling him to let them sleep.

When your own tears have dried, you feel the wetness on Aemond’s cheek as he presses his lips against the back of your shoulder. You had only ever witnessed Aemond crying twice befor. “You’re a father, Aemond, and he was just a boy.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“No man is so accursed as the Kinslayer.”

You lean back further into his embrace, feeling the warmth radiating from his bare skin. You love Aemond; that would never change, but it terrified you. Not only by what he did, but because it didn’t change how you felt towards him.

Your lips part when Aemond’s large hand moves from your stomach to your rib cage. “Are you afraid of me?”

“No, should I be?”

“I’m scared of myself and of what I’d do to keep you safe.”

He skims his hand over to your breast and begins gently rubbing at your sensitive nipple, causing you to let out a small moan.

Feeling dampness between your thighs, you squeeze your legs together and involuntarily arch your back into his touch. Aemond knows how needy you are for his touch, especially in your current condition. With all the hormones constantly racing through your body, you’d be craving him for the slightest thing. “I need you,” he says, slowly bringing your nightgown to your waist. “Please, my love.”

You part your legs enough for Aemond to slide into you with ease. His thrusts are gentler than normal, and he peppers your cheek and neck with kisses. It’s only when you whine does he bring his hand to your clit, taking you closer to the edge. There was sadness in the air. This wasn’t the same as the other times being intimate; there was no primal urge behind it, just the need to be close to one another.

It doesn’t take you long to come undone, and feeling how tight you are, Aemond spills his seed inside you.

“Wait,” you say, gripping Aemond’s hip when he goes to pull out. “Don’t move; I want to feel close to you... Just hold me, please.”

—

Aemond picks at the scab on his palm; the irony of hurting himself by holding onto his wife’s necklace so tight after losing her for real wasn’t lost on him. His eye shifts from the small specks of blood forming on his hand to the crib at the foot of his bed. The light shade of blue on the bottom sheet inside the crib was an identical match to the shade most of his wife’s dresses were.

Ser Criston clears his throat, then hands Aemond a goblet of Dornish red and says, “My prince.”

Aemond accepts the wine, but unlike his elder brother, he doesn’t guzzle it down. Aegon finishes his drink, wipes the dregs from his mouth, and then slams the cup down onto the table. “Now, since we know where my sister is, how do we get her back? I say we attack at dawn.”

Aemond traces his finger over Dragonstone on the map in front of him. His beloved was so close, yet so far. “Mother has written to Rhaenyra again, asking for my wife to be allowed to leave, but if what our strong nephew says is true, then Rhaenyra has gone to madness.”

Frustrated, Aegon kicks the table. “The whore took my son, my wife, and now she has taken my sister hostage! Fuck madness!”

“Your grace, we have no idea which parts of the castle they are being kept in.” Criston says calmly, attempting to temper him. “If we attack at dawn, we may harm the princess and her baby.”

Aegon sinks further into his chair. “If Sunfyre and Vahgar fly over Dragonstone, the blacks will be distracted long enough, and my sister can mount her dragon and fly back.”

“My wife won’t leave without our daughter,” Aemond says, tapping his fingers against the wooden edge of the chair. “If Daemon sees us coming, there’s nothing stopping him from killing both of them. We cannot attack directly; we must be discreet.”

—

“That’s enough for now. The babe should rest for the night.”

Hearing Daemon's orders, you kiss Daenys on the back of the hand multiple times before handing her over to the wet nurse taking care of her. Your nephew Jacaerys had been right, and the more compliant you are with Daemon, the more your uncle allowed you to do, and that includes spending more time with Daenys. Unless Aemond came for you, you’d need to play along and wait out the storm until you had a window of opportunity to either kill Daemon or escape.

“Thank you... for letting me see her twice today.”

Sighing, your uncle gets to his feet and begins untying his breeches. “Behave throughout the night, and I’ll have the wet nurse bring her back up tomorrow.”

You move away from the now locked door and go to stand by the window. Without turning back, you drop your nightgown so it pools at your feet, leaving you completely bare. Focusing on the stars above you, you arch your back, but instead of feeling the tip of his cock pushing inside you, you feel the wetness of his tongue swiping across your cunny.

You hate it when Daemon brings you pleasure because of the guilt you feel afterwards. But yet you find yourself reaching back and gripping hold of Daemon's silver strands to keep him from moving as he eats you out. Making you cum before attempting to impregnate you was one of the few acts of kindness he granted you.

Against your will, soft moans escape your lips. Daemon stands and takes a fistful of your hair, then roughly slams into you and says, “Deny all you like, niece, but I know how badly you crave the touch of a dragon.”

He was partly right; you craved your husband's touch. But as you stare into the dark abbess of the sky, you yearn for something more.

You crave fire and blood.

[grievedeeply]

I really love your first kiss hcs with dammon and rolan request! Can I request first kiss hcs with Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, and Zevlor?

sorry these are short! i didn't want to be too repetitive with them but i hope you enjoy anyways and thanks for the request! (and sorry this took forever to do lol)

gn!reader/tav | no tws

first kiss hcs with astarion, gale, wyll, halsin and zevlor

astarion

kisses aren't a big deal for him most of the time. he doesn't think of them as anything more than something you do with someone else. he'd done it plenty of times.. but not with someone like you

he really feels something for you, something real and genuine. he'd be lying if he said it didn't scare him, but it's just the truth

he wants his first kiss with you to be meaningful

it's not going to be in some sort of grand setting. it's probably in the middle of the woods somewhere and completely unplanned, too

but that's the beauty of it. a kiss so in the moment it comes naturally to the two of you. it's soft and gentle and warm.. things astarion isn't used to in kisses

he's used to fervor— intense moments that aren't exactly intimate. but this.. this is something special and it's beautiful. he doesn't ever want it to end, but it does, eventually.

but that's alright, because he'll start it all over again

gale

kisses have always been something intimate in his eyes, and he doesn't give them away lightly

he has to feel really genuine about someone for him to even think about wanting to kiss them, and he feels that way towards you rather quickly

you're kind and understanding, helpful and compassionate. all amazing qualities and when added to your incredible personality.. you are someone he sees himself having something real with

he'll take you on a date first. it's nothing fancy but it is special to both of you. it's probably a picnic under the stars.. somewhere where it can be just the two of you alone

he'll caress your face and stare into your eyes before he kisses you, making it very clear on what he wants before actually doing it

it's a sweet kiss, short but filled with everything he wants to say. he doesn't make a big deal about it in front of you, but he does have a giddy smile on his lips for the rest of the night

wyll

similarly to gale, he believes kisses are something special— something intimate

he wants his first kiss with you to be perfect. he'll probably have the entire day planned out. a nice dinner or a picnic or something similar, and spending the evening under the stars

in truth, your first kiss with him is far from planned and happened solely because it felt right

even if he wants it to be perfect, he's probably the one initiating it. he just saw you and couldn't resist

while it's not the scenario he pictured in his mind, he doesn't care. any moment shared with you is perfect and one he wants to enjoy for all it is

it's not what he envisioned, but it's perfect because he shared it with you

halsin

also wants his first kiss to be perfect in some aspects, but he's more focused on the special part of it than anything else

he's with you. does the moment feel right? does it look like you're into whatever situation you might be in with him?

he's definitely going to whisper, "can i kiss you?" while looking hopelessly into your eyes like a man so deeply in love the only thing he can think of is you

the kiss is lovely and everything he wanted it to be because it was with you. you could be completely inexperienced and he wouldn't care, or the opposite, solely because it was with you

halsin is very sweet and very open about his feelings on things, so he'll be letting you know how nice the kiss was

i think he's probably had a few first kisses with other people in the past, but none of them even come close to the moment he shares with you

zevlor

zevlor has to get over his anxieties first to be able to accept how much he wants to kiss you

assuming that he's older than you, he has to talk himself out of not liking you because of his age, even if you make it very clear that you like him in that way

when he finally jumps over that hurdle, kissing you is all he can think about whenever he's around you until the exact moment it happens

definitely very impromptu. wasn't planned at all and he completely kissed you on impulse because it felt right and because he would back out later on

it's special to him and means a lot when you don't pull away. the man is so anxious.....

he thinks about it a lot. it might not have been the ideal place but it was perfect because the kiss makes him realize just how much you like him

it makes him feel good, honestly <3

[heavenbarnes]

Oh my god. I just read your older!bf Simon returning from deployment and I LOVED it! It was so PERFECT.

Can you maybe do a part where he does decide to retire from the TF141 and decides to settle down? Stay home with reader and enjoy a normal life, without them having to worry that Simon might not return. I adore your writing style!

course i can 🫶🏼 got a headache, need something soft lol

when your older bf!simon finally makes the call, has the come-to-jesus with price- it doesn’t come easy.

they have to have a sit down, one where simon finally admits that he just can’t do it anymore. not with you around, not when he’s finally got something to lose.

it’s the nightmares that kick things off, that recurring one where he’s like an omniscient being looking down on you and the empty house. the one where you finally get that knock on the door.

it scares the shit out of him.

simon never used to think- let alone dream about his own mortality. that was until you.

he thought it’d be tough, that price would tell him how much the team needed him- how much king and country needed him.

“good choice mate, i’m proud of you”

simon managed to hold back the tears till he got home.

he hadn’t even told you what he’d planned, you’d definitely spoken about it but usually over dinner or when he was all soft and pliable post-sex.

the times where he could really see himself being normal with you. being safe.

you’d known the minute he walked in the door that something had changed. he wasn’t carrying an unbearable weight on his shoulders, for one.

“simon- what’s happened?”

that broke the floodgates.

it was an amalgamation of all that’d been following him since he joined the force. learning to live with eyes in the back of his head. accepting his own fate. becoming a ghost.

that and hearing those words from a man like price.

simon was man enough to admit he was also dog-tired. mid-forties, set of shoulders that you could bounce bullets off they were so tense. his lower back was absolutely fucked these days.

he was so tired.

and here he was, locked in your arms as your ran soothing circles along his spine- softly cooing a gentle “shh” while he cried.

cried like a fucking baby.

anyone else knew about this? he’d turn inside out. but that was before you, that was before he learnt he could show you every ugly little thing about him and find you loving him regardless.

you who loved him whether he was a perfect soldier or a good man.

you who forgave him for everything he’d yet to forgive himself for.

simon had never felt so alive.

stay-at-home-husband looked good on him.

washing basket in hand, cursing at the machine (he’d loaded it so poorly). vacuum trailing behind him, getting caught on literally everything. dishwasher stacked at all odd angles.

you were just happy to have him home.

happy to walk through the door and smell the dinner cooking. happy to hear him in the garage fixing up his car. happy to hear him fixing everything that’d been waiting for him to find time.

happy to have him safe.

simon joined the local rugby club (after you’d made him get a regular physio). he’d laid a pretty wee garden under the kitchen window for your herbs. he could usually be found at your elderly neighbour’s house, carrying her groceries in and staying for a brew.

he’d been allocated a military issue fresh start.

[dearhargrove]

Reassurance

summary You comfort Evan after he has to deal with his parents over the course of four days.

word count 730

tags fluff, just someone being there for my bb buck, short and sweet

a/n So basically I was watching the Buck Begins episode and died every minute where his parents neglected him and generally every second of that episode :( so expect some more Buck fics to come (Eddie too tho !!)

masterlist

You didn't know but you were probably the sole reason Buck wasn't completely breaking down every day he wakes up and has to deal with the two people that call themselves his parents.

After the first dinner he had felt bad, but he'd felt like he usually does with them. Alone, unwanted and never enough. That day he'd come home to you, quiet and dull.

You hadn't made him talk about it when he didn't start explaining himself, instead you simply wrapped your arms around him and held him close. That's when he'd felt loved. That night he waited until you had fallen asleep before letting himself cry.

What did he expect? For some reason he had hoped they'd changed. Or at least that they would be proud of him. After all, he'd saved a lot of people and does so every day. Instead he is reminded that they hadn't bothered to check on him when he almost died twice - first by being crushed and second because of the blood clots - and then laid in the hospital.

Those were the people supposed to love him no matter what and all he got was constant criticism.

That night you had woken up not long after him because of his missing warmth. With a worried expression you'd found him and once again, held him close. He had melted into your arms, tears starting to fall again as he clutched you close as if scared to lose you.

After reassurance you would gladly give any day you had gone back to bed, your hand on his cheek and caressing his birthmark.

Today you hadn't even known Buck would see them or be confronted by their doings. The last time you'd heard about them was when he explained that he had a brother. That he was only conceived to be a match for a bone marrow transplant.

That night had been harder than the one before. You're quite sure no matter how much you tried to show him that he wasn't just a failed way to save someone you don't think it got completely through to him. And you didn't blame him; you couldn't imagine living with something like that weighing you down.

You're in his kitchen trying one of Bobby's recipes when the door opens and Buck comes in. You could read him like a book; there wasn't a moment you weren't able to tell what he was feeling. But now? You genuinely didn't know.

He was frowning but there's a smile resting on his face and his eyes are red.

“Buck?”

He looks up, seeing you there in his sweater with a knife in your hand as you chop vegetables for a recipe from Bobby he loved, and he breaks. But instead of simply crying he chuckles, too.

“Buck, what's going on?” Your voice is worried and he just shakes his head as he wraps his arms around your waist and presses his forehead to yours. You put the knife down and reach up to cup his face and your index finger soothes over his birthmark, something you'd made a habit over the year of being with him.

“I think they're finally accepting me for.. me.” He only says and you sigh but nod. He notices your slight apprehension and quickly adds on, “But I don't want them to. I don't need their acceptance. They don't decide how much I'm worth.”

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ in surprise but you laugh breathlessly and nod, “Exactly. You're saving lives on the daily, you don't need anyone to tell you how good you are. Not your parents, not your friends, not me.”

He nods along until the last part where he cocks his head and looks at you with his signature half smirk. “I do need you to tell me how good I am, actually.” That makes you smile as well and you sigh, “That's not what I meant and you know it.”

He just shrugs and unlike when he first came in you can see pure happiness and love on his face.

“God, I love you so much, Evan Buckley.”

He grins and surges forward to kiss you passionately, his hands gripping your hips as if you'd slip through his fingers any moment.

[jaewritesfic]

Melon!AU Part 5

Part 4

Warning on this one for description of vivisection injuries

Bruce is the first out of the Batmobile when they pull into the cave specifically to raise a finger to his lips and sign to his collected children to be quiet.

Dick, Damian, and Tim all beat them there, and Steph seems to have invited herself back from patrol in order to see what's up with the creature nobody could see over video feed.

Alfred hovers quietly because of the unknown injuries that likely need treating.

The kids all give him varying prompting looks of confusion about the order as he moves to open Cass's door for her.

He turns and signs to them what Cass had carefully signed to him in the car.

She thinks he's asleep.

Everyone's eyes bug out in surprise, Dick and Steph both making faces like they want to coo out an ‘awwwww.’

Damian seems like he would be tempted to do the same if he wasn't still more than a little wary.

Cass climbs out of the car slowly and carefully, trying not to disturb the sinuous shadow who still has his head tucked into her shoulder and tail and arms wrapped around her.

Steph's eyes get wide, the only one of the kids present who hasn't seen him yet. Alfred barely reacts aside from a slight rise of the brows.

Alfred inclines his head towards the medbay, but Cass hesitates and shakes her head.

It's a little difficult when she's trying to make sure the creature stays secure, but she manages to sign awkwardly behind his back.

Very scared when I mentioned doctors. Probably trauma.

Waking up in anything resembling a medical facility probably wouldn't go well, in other words. Alfred hums quietly, mulling that over for a moment before he nods and gestures for the kids to come help him.

Quietly and efficiently, the group pulls a bed and supplies out of the isolated medbay and into the cave at large, closer to the lounge area the kids have slowly built up through the years than anything.

Ideally the change of venue will be unnecessary, but if the creature does wake up it's worth trying to lessen the chances of immediate backlash.

It's really no wonder he passed out, Bruce thinks. Cass had made it clear he was exhausted and on the verge. None of them are under any illusions that that's not why he accepted her help.

She was the least terrifying option and he was running on fumes.

Alfred glances at Cass, and that's all the prompting she needs to come over and very gently lean down to set the creature on his back on the bed.

Alfred is just as gentle when he has to carefully pluck the shadowy claws out of her cape in order to get him to let go, and Cass carefully unwinds the long tail from her waist and legs.

When she straightens back up, Bruce closes his eyes hard for a moment and bites back a wave of nausea.

Jesus Christ. Medical trauma? No fucking wonder.

Bruce forces himself to open his eyes and look.

Whatever this creature is, whoever he is, he must have escaped straight off of an operating table. The green blood is leaking from haphazard stitches just barely holding a massive Y incision on his torso together.

Vivisection.

Distantly, Bruce hears Dick retching. Sees his kids in varying states of distress over the same conclusions Bruce has just come to.

Mostly, he's focusing on trying to breathe through his anger. It's of no use to any of them right now - they need him calm.

It's strange, looking at the creature's face now. With eyes and mouth closed it's a blank slate of black, no features to be found. Like a mannequin head, misty white hair still unbound by gravity.

Parts of him are just barely translucent, mostly the edges of limbs. Bruce has never seen anything like him.

Alfred catches his eye with practiced ease, signing quickly and looking solemn. Bruce can see the pain hidden behind his calm features, his dismay that something horrific has been done to a living creature.

There is not much I can do without opening him back up, especially not knowing what he is or what is normal. Disinfect, stitch and bandage. Then hope for the best.

Bruce sighs slowly through his nose, feeling helpless but nodding. 

Alfred turns to Cass for a moment.

I assume because you are calm that he is not meant to be breathing?

Bruce nearly chokes, eyes darting back to the dark figure on the bed. Indeed, there's no motion.

Cass nods. Her chest is very green.

Hasn't been. Seems fine.

He doesn't breathe - at least not visibly. Is he like a salamander, does he take oxygen in through his skin?

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter right now. This creature - this boy - needs help. He needs his chest disinfected and his scant few stitches redone.

From the looks of them, Bruce would bet money that he did those stitches himself not too long ago.

Masterpost

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Butcher!Simon x gn!reader Part 9 We're coming to the end of the date and is that... *le gasp* hand holding? How lewd. You're such a harlot, letting him hold your hand.

I'm not dead guys, just pretty busy with life, but this guy lives rent free in my head (he'd prefer to live in yours). Part 8 | COD Masterlist | Part 10

Abort. Fucking abort mission. He knows it’s going to be a no before you even open your mouth. How could he be so stupid. Your expression is troubled and he wants to kick himself for asking. Too quick, too much. Did he seriously forget how careful and easily startled you are just because you joked about Johnny? (yeah he did, too busy imagining your wedding)

“I”, you slowly start your hands nervously wringing “don’t want to intrude on your guy’s night. And I don’t know them and I bet they’re really nice but they’re three men I don’t know and it’s getting late and hell, I barely know you and…”

You’ve started rambling and Simon hates how he made you nervous like that again, so before you can get too much into your head about it he takes a small step forward his hands reaching out and gently covering your fiddling ones. God, they fit perfectly into his. He never wants to stop holding your hands again.

That effectively shuts you up and your eyes go to his again, looking up from the ground (such a good little lovie).

“It’s fine, sweetheart. I get it.”, he grumbles out, trying to keep his voice soft, lest he scares you off like a startled deer. He doesn’t want to have to chase you (maybe he does, but only if you’d like him to).  His big hands dwarf yours, gently squeezing.

You don’t pull back and that alone makes his heart do a victory jump in his chest. If you don’t mind him touching you like this maybe he can get bolder the next times, make his interest more obvious (okay, he needs to calm the fuck down, you haven’t even agreed to going to the concert with him yet).

“No need to explain. I shouldn’t have asked.”, he continues and you shake your head freeing your hands from each other so you can grab onto his too (oh fuck, you’re grabbing onto him, holy shit, holy shit).

“No! It’s very sweet of you. It’s just… too much?”, you say and it sounds more like a question than a statement. At least you’ve grown so comfortable around him that you continue to explain: “Meeting you today was already a lot for me.”

He nods in understanding, quietly accepting your words. He gulps heavily hoping you can’t hear his nerves when he asks: “Was it too much? Meeting me today?”

You grip on his hands tightens and you take a small instinctive step closer, stealing all the oxygen from his lungs. “No! It’s not too much. You’ve been great, really. I just…”

You look troubled at having to explain further and his thumbs begins to soothingly brush over your hands. “Okay.”, he says simply, stopping you from trying to convince him.

The way you tilt your head up at him in surprise makes his heart squeeze and he swears he needs to take his cuteness aggression out on one of his pillows when he gets home because the urge to squeeze you tightly is nearly overwhelming. It fills his entire body up until he feels like he’ll vibrate right out of his skin and break into pieces at your feet.

“Just like that?”, you ask, evidently surprised at his acceptance and he nods, subtly starting to walk again but keeping one of your hands in his. You don’t seem to notice and if you do, you don’t complain. Shit, his hand is getting sweaty from how nervous holding your hand makes him.

“Yeah. No need to explain. That’s how it is.”, he says with a harsher tone than intended. Shit, he meant to sound conclusive not harsh what if you think he’s mad and…

“Thank you.” The squeeze of his hand is thankful and gentle making him stuff his other hand into his pocket again because he might start to shake from your proximity at any moment now.

“No need to thank me, sweetheart.”, he murmurs and wonders how people usually react to you if you feel the need to thank him for just accepting what you said. The thought of anyone not treating you right makes quiet rage settle around his chest and he vows to never mistreat you (yeah, not like he fantasizes about keeping you locked up so he can have you all to himself or anything, no hypocrisy there, Simon).

That’s the moment Wraith comes bounding back again and looks at your joined hands. Suddenly the big dog stops dead in his tracks and huffs a low bark. Your laughter rings out and Simon doesn’t know whether to cry tears of joy at the beautiful sound of your laughter or take cover because your mutt does not look happy at him touching you.

He fights the urge to jerk his hands back like he’s a naughty child getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Damn him, if he lets a goddamn dog intimidate him into letting go of your perfect little hand. Wraith cocks his head at you two and a low rumble starts in his throat, not quite a growl. Something Simon can’t decipher.

You can though and when you try to go to your dog, Simon tightens his hold on your hand so you don’t slip from his grip completely. The way your head whips around nearly makes him let go of you after all but he decides to swallow his nerves and gently strokes the back of your hand with his thumb again. Your eyes are wide, not scared just surprised and you seem to search his gaze for something.

He’s not sure what but he doesn’t break the sudden and intense eye contact, trying to hide his pout at you taking your attention off of him to give it to your dog.

“Only need one hand to pet him.”, he grouses and against anything he expected you giggle again and call Wraith closer. The ugly beast trots closer still grumbling and you pet his head.

 “There you go, Wraith. Is my poor puppy jealous?”, you ask your dog and he gives a huff in response. Simon has to bite his tongue so he doesn’t answer with a ‘yeah I am’.

He truly is trying to hide the side eye he gives Wraith when you coo at the mutt and gently scratch his chin, but he can’t help it. Wraith’s tongue lolls out and Simon swears the pleased grumble is aimed at him. Damnit, maybe he should get one of those puppy ear headbands. Maybe you would pet him too if he did.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Homelander being obsessed with his sister HC II

Warnings: heavy siblingxsibling implications, Homelander being such a narcissist that he falls in "love" with his own sibling, dubcon, noncon, manipulation, stalking, basically all the horrible parts of HL come out to play, MC has blonde hair and blue eyes like HL, different plot than 'All I Ever Wanted, All I Ever Needed', kidnapping

I III IV V

Mother fucker would definitely find a way to lock you up in his personal apartment. It’s not easy to keep a supe that had the same powers as him as a captive. Through trial and error, Homelander would find a way to keep you hidden. His little secret

Has major mood change at work and a new skip in his step. All smiles and syrupy sweet voice.

Your parents and friends would go into immediate action to try and find you.

HL installs motion detector cameras throughout his apartment to keep an eye on you when he’s too far away. If anything happened, he knew he could be there in a flash

All day you were forced to wait for him until he got off of work (though does a hero ever really have time off?), like a pet. During that time all you could do was stare at the tv that HL had kindly turned on for you.

Of course you'd tried to escape in the beginning. But HL was faster than you.

Bored out of your mind from the constant stream of tv, you'd manage to wiggle over to the box that Homelander had shown you your first day there. You had time to really look at the contents though it was difficult without the free use of your hands. There were pictures of you as a little girl with your mom and dad. Lo and behold, you even found a picture of you on a young HL lap. Documents upon documents with Vought's stamp on them had you accepting the truth that HL was indeed your blood brother.

Homelander gives up trying to jog your memory once you inform him that you really don't remember much growing up. But you acknowledge him as being your sibling by blood.

"I believe you, but this doesn't condone kidnapping and keeping me here, Homelander." You countered, still not understanding why he went through all of this trouble. Just because you were his sister? That seemed too outrageous to you. Then again, you still didn't really know the real Homelander.

He corrects you. "John. You can call me John." He'd told you that several times but you just couldn't bring yourself to say such a simple name to this legend of a man.

Honestly, the whole abduction thing was a spur of the moment idea but once he found himself in the air with you in his arms, he made the decision that he was going to keep you to himself whether you liked it or not. That was the only way to make sure you wouldn't forget him again or leave him.

And some morbidly twisted feeling was growing inside of him every time he looked at you. You were perfect. Like he was. He talked himself into thinking that this was okay, that he was always meant for someone who was just as perfect as he was. And who better than you who has the same genetic mockup as he did.

He'd tell you all of this like it was the most simplest thing in the world. You gape at him in horror at his grotesque explanation.

Unnerve and discontent raised the hairs up on the back of your neck. What he'd said sounded a lot like him talking about incest. That roiled your stomach, making you feel sick.

He hated the fear he smelled on you in that moment, Homelander even pulls back from you and puts you at arm's length. You hate how he reduced you to someone so helpless. You also hate how much he really scares you.

Swallowing something thick in his throat, HL looks away from you with what you could only read as disgust. Maybe at you? Not for you though. For himself. He'd scared you and that was enough to shame him.

He'd mutter out an incredibly soft apology before leaving his apartment.

I'm thinking that as long as I have HC ideas of this, that I'll just be adding parts whenever the feeling strikes 🙂

[sillygoosealert]

I was so hurt after (https://www.tumblr.com/sillygoosealert/757389587337412608/stuipid-fucking-slut-i-hate-you) 🥹🥹, can you do a part two where reader goes missing after he left her but found unconscious/dead because of a reason (you could come up with one! :D)

AND ALSO, UR WRITING IS SOO GOOD, +1 FOLLOWER >.<

-🍞 anon (I will try giving you good requests >:)

I promise I won't kill myself, death is not my last resort

haiiii :3 so I'm making this part two but honestly, I might end up deleting both of the stories because I was in a bad place when I wrote that 😓 also..besides the other anon's rotting in my inbox until I respond..ur my first anon !! yippy !!

Implied Rape. You die, talks of being unsafe and how it feels to be assaulted

Love is a gentle thing, as is the innocence you once had.

It wasn't a gradual fruition to see that being a woman would change the reality of everything for you. They warned you to steer clear of dark spots and secluded areas and always be aware. The things events that were organized and reenacted are nothing short of gender-based violence.

You understood why you and many others were constantly warned, but experiencing it was so different and vile, something you should never have gone through.

Today almost didn't end with you dead, but you didn't listen to the one thing that was looking out for you- you. That day, your gut instinct felt something was awry.

The morning was fine. You got a quick kiss on Sukuna's cheek before running off to your garden work.

The garden is split into sections. Working in them isn't an issue- except the one furthest from the estate. It's where you are most likely to get harassed by other servants as it is where most people turn a blind eye to.

Your body physically would not go near it today, you just couldn't.

Maybe it's the black crow you saw out of the corner of your eye or the sinking feeling you got whenever you looked over in its direction, but you couldn't shake the uncanny feeling it was giving you.

But as a mouse gets caught in a mouse trap, you are lured into the back part of the garden when something that resembles a doe is staring right at you. Not wanting to pass up the chance to see something so pure so up close, you walk to it.

But as you walk towards the feeble deer, and it walks further and further into the now forest, you question if you really saw anything at all.

When the doe is no longer in sight, you think about how you got here. Is it too late to turn back? I don't want this anymore.

You don't get the chance to turn back, as a pair of hands are roughly groping you from behind.

What happened in the woods wasn't your fault. You were lured to the spot in the first place. Then, when you wanted out, the exit was no longer there.

It wasn't your fault.

When you don't show up to clean the garden, that one thing.

But your body was found before dinner, where the forest meets the garden, disrespected in horrendous ways.

When you mentioned the concern that you were being targeted by other peers, he recognized the validity of your perspective.

He knew you were being harassed, but to accept it was something he couldn't do.

It would mean several things to take action - the most significant being that you had a major influence on how he chose to address the situation.

The other is over half of the people working for him would be slaughtered if he honestly wanted you safe. That type of fear egged him on usually, with him being your savior at the end of the day.

Knowing the nature of these situations, something would have to be addressed sooner or later.

He was scared indigo at the thought of making that type of commitment to someone, but he wanted to for you.

The thought of death didn't scare him. He would tell death himself he wasn't afraid to die. However, the idea of you being beaten nearly to death, only to bleed out and perish, shook him to his core. This was something no amount of strength or intimidation could undo.

He doesn't find out about...your passing until he requests to see you after dinner.

The feeling that washes over him is indifferent, he doesn't know what he wants anymore, but he knows that he wants you back.

He will never know how the world could keep spinning after you were ripped away from his grasp, it should have been the end of the world.

You didn't want to die, you shouldn't have died.

That shouldn't have happened to you, you didn't deserve it.

Death is a pathic escape, I will not kill myself- not for my loved ones, but for me.

Songs referenced: Velvet Ring, The End of The World, N64, My Body's Made of Crushed Little Stars, Crack Baby, Anything.

[milliesdiary]

Imagine if the reader is friends with Jace and Luke but also betrothed to Aemond, so when he makes that offensive toast at dinner, reader gets mad and confronts him. She says that if he actually loves her, then he would stop doing those things, which leads to a confession <3

𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭; after a fight-provoking tribute at a family dinner, you ask aemond — your friend and betrothed — where his feelings lie.

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; princess!reader from an unspecified house, fluff, a bit of spice ♡

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; thank you all for the support! also a big thank you for those who wanted to be tagged :) you keep me going! for anyone who reads this, please reblog and comment with your feedback. i fall in love with everyone who does and it means so much! i appreciate you & be sure to consider following to stay updated ✨

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬; @deeeeexx @cassianas @sweet-andromeda @thedeathofduty @evasgreentea @burningcoffeetimetravel

𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄.

It started off a bit rocky, to be fair. But then Viserys’ made a plea for peace, begged for the family to heal, and the tension melted like a slab of butter in a warm hand. Everything finally seemed to be falling into place.

Forgiveness was offered. The family was together. Your betrothed was complacent, despite being in the presence of his nephews. Alicent hid her laugh behind a hand, Rhaenyra’s pretty lips were curled into a smile that matched Daemon’s, Jace and Helaena were dancing — it was all perfect. 

You’re not even sure where it went wrong. It just did. 

You are laying in bed now, hours after the eventful gathering. The insomnia you're experiencing is a classic case; Aemond's tribute plays over and over in your head. You aren’t even remembering the crucial details, like what he said or what you ought to have said.

Instead, all you can recall are the expressions on Luke and Jace's faces, the way the lighthearted mood deteriorated, and the clang of your knife on your plate after dropping it in shock. 

You also remember storming out of the room. 

Truthfully, you are embarrassed at your future husband’s behavior. His smirk had been so arrogant that you wanted to meet it with a fist, and you probably would have if you could get away with it. 

You have been betrothed to Aemond for about a moon, and while you were aware of his distaste toward his nephews, you never thought he would disrupt his family as they attempt to repair the rift between them. 

Over a fucking pig. 

Maybe you should have expected it. 

You met Aemond when you were both children, as your father had established a peace treaty with the Targaryens at the beginning of his reign. You saw the boy get taller, watched his jaw sharpen, and stared on as his charm turned into the stern temperament of a man. He learned to ignore the things that do not serve him. 

You knew that Aemond became a person of duty, of justice; he would not let things go that easily. He held a grudge with the incident. Losing his eye. 

Taking that into consideration, this should not have been that big of a surprise.

And Gods, do you still want to marry him. When your father informed you about the betrothal, you were overjoyed, fit to burst, chest suddenly stuffed with the warmth of the sun and a billion ‘what ifs.’ 

Aemond has fascinated you throughout the years; he has always seemed so at ease and still. Unhurried and righteous. He can remain at the fireplace for a considerable amount of time, leaving you to constantly wonder what he might be thinking and how he is able to survive in such solitude.

You love him. Always have, though you are too scared to tell him. Part of you wonders if he shares the same affections. 

But there’s no chance of that, is there? Aemond does not allow himself to experience attraction or establish attachments. There is no changing that. He must have agreed to the proposal because it was the right political choice; there is no other reason why he would have accepted. 

Aemond loving you back? It’s impossible. 

You roll over onto your side and stare at the window that sits across the room, trying to focus on the moonlight drifting through. It takes about thirty seconds of dead silence for you to realize that you might just go insane. You’re literally about to grab an extra pillow and shove it over your face — with the plan of suffocating yourself to sleep — when you hear a knock on your chamber door.

The noise almost makes you jump. For a moment, you consider not answering it, but curiosity refuses to bid you farewell. You crawl out of the sheets and reach for a match on your dresser, flicking it against the wood to conjure a flame. You ignite the oil lamp that sits on your nightstand, the light basking the room in a warm, orange glow.

You are just making your way over to the door when the knock comes again. Straightening out your nightgown and taking a deep breath, you open it. 

Despite the darkness of the stone hallway, you recognize Aemond immediately. 

No, it‘s not just his chiseled face that gives him away, or the long silver hair that drapes over his shoulders. It isn’t the black leather tunic he wears, hugging his lean chest. It is the way he stands: the confident way he waits for you, chin high, strong and assertive. 

He’s too perfect, despite being one of the most imperfect people you know.

“Princess,” Aemond greets. His eye briefly looks you up and down before focusing on your face again. “Green suits you.” 

Your gaze flicks down to your nightgown — made from a beautiful silk and a deep emerald, decorated in golden floral designs. It was a gift from the Queen; even though you and Aemond had not married yet, she happily proposed that you start to wear the family’s house colors. You accepted, of course. 

Aemond’s compliment is so genuine that you don't know how to respond. You feel a sense of pride at his admiration. “I do not wear the color much,” you shrug, trying to sound unbothered. “But I will get used to it over time.” 

“You shall,” Aemond nods. He seems pleased. Pleased that you will become a Targaryen, that you will be dressed in the color of his house until the end of your days. It is a reminder that you’re his. All his. 

“My Prince,” you change the subject. “Might I ask what you are doing outside my chambers this late?”

“I have come to talk.”

You fix him with a blank stare. Talk? The last thing you want to do is talk. 

“Where did my guard go?” you ask slowly.

“I advised he take a walk.” 

You get a feeling that the conversation with your sworn knight did not play out that way, but this is your future husband; it probably would not be a good idea to go to sleep on a bitter note. Biting back a retort and a sigh, you open your chamber door and wave him in. Aemond struts in casually. 

He acts like he owns the place with how he stands directly in the center. You dawdle by the doorway, allowing him to observe the space: he takes in the fireplace, the golden decor, and then your bed, draped in silks and the pillows similar to the fluff of clouds. It’s a beautiful room, you must admit. You take pride in it. 

“You are upset about the tribute, I presume,” Aemond says finally, turning to face you. That eye of his is the perfect shade of violet; purple like a flowering bruise, unclouded and intense and determined.

“I am not upset anymore,” you lie. “I do not care.”

“You do care.”

“No.”

It is quiet for a second. Not a word uttered.

Then Aemond pries you right open. “You do.”

“Fine. I do.”

“And why is that, Princess?” He almost taunts.

You want to snap at Aemond — ask him what he means and how can he take something like this so simply. It is not a joke. A civil war is brewing among his family, yet he does not take it seriously at all. He even seems to take joy in participating. The idea has you seething.

Here Aemond is, continuing to pretend that he is harmless, that his touch is gentle, that his palms won't burn handprints into your skin. You would almost believe it if you didn’t know any better. 

“With all due respect, My Prince, Jace and Luke are my dearest friends. They are kind and loyal to me, as well as their family.” 

Aemond hums, uninterested. "A dog possesses the same traits.” 

An anger gathers within you. It screams right into your face: this is how it shall be and you will have to deal with it. 

“You are playing quite the jester today, My Prince,” you tell him. I would like to slap you across the face, is what you’re truly thinking.

Aemond lets out an amused huff at that. The light from the lamp in the corner of the room dances along his silhouette, illuminating every plane of his face. His hair is a white, jewel-drenched curtain — there’s the urge to run your hands through it. 

How can someone so gorgeous cause so much chaos? 

"I am exhausted," you finally sigh. You can feel how hardened your expression has become. “I am finished with miscommunications and arguments. I have tried to refrain from intense emotions and confrontations. The moment I entered King’s Landing, I told you that there was to be no drama. You promised me. And what you did at dinner? That is the trouble I stray from, yet you seem so content in dragging me back in.” 

Aemond’s mouth threatens to twitch into a scowl then. He’s trying to keep his face neutral, though annoyance peeks through the cracks in his façade. “You are acting as if jests are more harmful than stealing an eye.”

“I am not saying that. I am saying that if you are to be my husband, you should be shielding me from conflict. Not causing it.”

Aemond has nothing to say to that apparently. He just gazes at you piercingly, that one violet eye intently focused on you. You try to remain steadfast, although you do feel like shrinking under the chill of his stare. Somehow, you find the courage to continue. 

“If you truly respect me as your future wife — if you truly love me — then you would cease this petty game.” You steel yourself, begging yourself to be bold and ask the question. “Do you love me, Aemond?”

For a moment, you catch how Aemond’s face changes into one of surprise; he obviously was not expecting that question. It takes a couple of seconds before he fixes his jaw, training his expression into something more cool. Practiced. Poised. But then he looks at you; truly looks at you, stares you down from the inside out. “I should be asking you the same thing.” 

You freeze, almost shocked by the rebuttal. You can tell he is being serious: there is a sincerity with which he wants to know. 

Aemond may be wild and deranged like a dragon, thirsting for havoc, but he still aches for approval and acknowledgment. Always has. Perhaps that’s what he wants; he wants to hear that even though he fails at kindness and charity, you are still able to love him.

“Tell me,” Aemond demands. Before you can say anything, he strides forward until he’s standing right in front of you. He leans into your space, breath fluttering along your cheeks and voice almost threatening. “Do you love me? For my righteousness that drives you mad and for my lack in restraint that you so despise?” 

The fire inside Aemond could kill anyone in a five mile radius; he knows it. Yet he still wants you to love him, to bravely walk into the tempest. Locate him amongst each dancing flame.

“I will accept every piece of you,” is all you can choke out.

Aemond seems to mull the words over. His face is terrifyingly neutral as he observes you carefully; he must not know impatience. 

“You still never answered my question,” You blurt. “Do you love me?”

Tell me you love me, is what you really want to say.

Aemond’s face remains blank for a second.

Unbeknownst to you, he’s almost offended at the inquiry. After all the years you have spent together, all the conversations and the secrets shared and the plights experienced — how could you utter such a thing? He was the one who spoke to his mother about proposing to you. Do you really think he did it for political gain? To secure a higher seat in the ranks of royalty? 

Aemond almost sneers at your ignorance. “How much longer must we be together before you acknowledge that I am not doing this for power?”

“That does not comfort me, Aemond.”

Silence. Dead silence.

The lack of an answer from Aemond makes you worry: worry that you struck a chord within him, that you have irritated him enough for him to leave, that you have made him regret accepting you as his wife. 

But something changes. Slowly — agonizingly slow — Aemond takes both of your hands into his, like a silent vow without words. A white flag of surrender. His profile relaxes into something slightly softer, more reserved. 

At the end of the day, he is to be your husband. If you need comfort, he will give you comfort, even if it means he has to be vulnerable.

Just for you. Only for you.

“When we were children, you once accused me of not knowing the meaning of love," Aemond starts. "But you were wrong."

You begin to breathe faster, grateful he can only discern the the direction of your emotions and nothing more. Hearing those words makes you feel something; it flutters inside your lower belly and is comparable to hope. 

“I do not give a shit about anyone but you,” Aemond admits. His voice is low, deep, sincere. You almost cannot believe it. 

“Is that so?” You try to sound indifferent, but it’s not convincing. His face is so, so close: your noses are almost touching.

“I would not say it if it weren’t the truth,” Aemond hums. “I did not know how to deal with my affections before, nor did I accept them. You have tortured me into becoming someone I am not.”

Tortured?

“I don’t understand—“

“You are the sword I gut myself with; that, Princess, is love."

That’s it. That’s all you needed; that reassurance, that validation. Every single ache in your heart is extinguished in a single second, every wound healed, every internalized scar covered in gauze and bandages and the homeliness that accompanies love. 

More. You want him to say more. “…And you will continue to love me?”

“You are mine until death, my dear wife. I am your monster for the rest of time. I am your insanity. I am yours.”

“And me?” You whisper. You’re struggling to focus, trying to remember that you’re mad at him, but his lips are right in front of yours.

Your question nearly makes Aemond chuckle. He holds it back, a sharp exhale of air coming from his nose instead. “You are my refuge.” 

“Your refuge?”

“My refuge,” Aemond repeats, his expression more resolute. “I can envision no other peace beyond the one that exists when our bodies are bound.”

“And you prefer me?” You want to be showered in his love, again and again. “Over anyone else?”

“I would choose you over all,” Aemond purrs. His tone, his accent — you could crumple to your knees. "The world is cruel and it steals from everyone, so I shall do the same. I will take what I wish. I will take you every time you are offered.”

Goosebumps threaten to rise from your body. Aemond’s hand comes down to rest on your waist, causing your breath to come out as a stutter. You’re not sure how you haven't disintegrated into nothingness. “I have loved you forever, Aemond.”

A warmth akin to sunshine rises in his face and he almost looks humored. You need him. And he needs you, though he may not outwardly admit it; needs you like you’re oxygen and he's trying to catch a breath.

Suddenly, Aemond’s hand grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you in for a kiss. Your fingers fly up to grip his shoulders when your lips touch, opening your jaw for him on instinct. You grab a fistful of his leather tunic and kiss him as hard as possible, allowing his hands to conquer your body. He tastes of peppermint, smells musky like dragon. 

Everything seems to be on fire. The pit of your stomach, your blood, his mouth. All you feel is the strength of his silhouette against your own and you want to remember this forever. With how Aemond holds you so firmly — almost like you might disappear any second — you can tell he feels the same. You have the power to kiss away his suffering, his years of self-hatred, his doubts, and the crushed dreams of an irrelevant future that he always imagined.

Aemond’s hands roam to your lower back, thumbs digging into the silky fabric of your nightgown. You draw him closer, brushing your thigh against his crotch to get a reaction out of him. He lets out a ‘hmm’ into your mouth.

There is nothing you desire more than to examine Aemond in full view with all lamplights on and his clothing off, to have him slowly remove this gown from your body and take his time with touching every inch. You want to run your fingertips across the ridged skin of his scar and trace it all the way down. You want to feel the weight of him flush against you, wrapped around you. You want him. 

Finally, you draw away, only to whisper. 

“You said you would take me whenever I am offered. Take me then, Aemond.”

A fire alights in Aemond’s eye — he’s considering it — but the flames quickly freeze over with that sense of duty. Self-control. “Not like this,” he murmurs. “But I vow to treat you to obscenities when I bed you. I will leave such marks on your body that anyone you entertain afterwards will have to know me in order to know you.”

Aemond’s words have the ability to make you shiver. It only makes you more excited for your wedding day. Even then, you still want him in this moment. Need his presence.

“Stay with me tonight, at least,” you plead. “Just share the bed with me. Nothing else. I will bribe the guards tomorrow morning so we will not get caught.” 

Aemond considers you for a long while. Then, without a word, he smiles. It’s sly, yes, but oh-so beautiful.

“So you will stay?” You ask again. Aemond hums in agreement, cradling your cheek in a palm. It is a tenderness that you were not expecting, but one that you accept heartily. He nods his head before speaking.

“If you put your hand in mine, my dear wife, I will always hold it.” 

[stinkysam]

Vinsmoke Sanji - Oh boy.

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : "Sanji falling for an ftm „he / they“ reader and feeling conflicted not only because that’s the first time he ever realized he liked a guy but also because he never even FLIRTED with a guy (...) And all in all just being awkward and waaaaay overthinking this just because he’s very much a confused newly discovered bisexual as well as „first time trans ally“ and is trying his best. Extra points: Reader immediatly knows what’s up and is just like „lol. : )“ because he thinks Sanjis awkward fumbling is adorable, before he puts Sanji out of his misery and goes „I like you. Wanna go out on a date sometimes?“" - anon

Reader : male (he/they/you)

A/N : Part TWO

Sanji likes women.

That's a fact everyone knows.

Or thought they knew.

So you can guess his surprises when he realizes his feelings for you ; a man. Not believing he could think such things with you !

Why is he caring who you're looking at ? Or why does he suddenly care about the way your eyes shine ? Or how you smile and how cute it is ? Why does his heart beat faster each time you compliment his cooking, your hand gently resting on his chest ? You could probably feel the way it was pounding under your palm.

He goes through a small stage of denial. And thinks he's being an asshole because he still sees you as a woman. Which he doesn't but his feelings make him think he's being transphobic and he absolutely hates it.

Because you're a man and he sees you as such. So when he finally realizes he's not transphobic but just bi he relaxes a bit.

And now he's scared. Because what if you don't feel the same ? Right ?

Or worse ? What if you think what he thought ? That he's being a transphobe and still seeing you as a woman ? What if he starts flirting and you see it disrespectful ?

Wait, how does he even flirt with a man ?

He doesn't know how to do it with any man, or with you, for that matter. You don't flirt with a man the same way you flirt with a lady. Right ?

Would you like to be called handsome ? Or perhaps pretty ? Or is pretty too feminine and you'd prefer handsome ? Or maybe you don't mind and like both ? Would you like flowers ? He wouldn't mind receiving them so maybe you wouldn't mind either ?

God, why is it so hard flirting with a man ?

He's really uncertain so he prefers to start with compliments. Your clothing, your hairstyle, your fighting…

He wants to start small in hope you see it as him being serious with you.

When he eventually starts flirting he's still really shy and unsure, fumbling on his words and stuttering.

The sentence he had prepared for you leaves his brain the second he opens his mouth.

But then !? You flirted back ?! You winked at him and invited him for dinner at a restaurant on the island you stopped at ?!

W h a t ! ?

He feels his heart burst in his chest. Just simply exploding. BOOM.

He's at a loss for words as he tries to smile. How does one smile by the way ? He's so happy he forgot. He's so sheepish he almost doesn't answer, giggling a little before finally accepting your offer.

Suddenly he's hoping he didn't read it wrong and you really flirted back.

"No, because, they could've invited me to be nice. Or maybe he also invited the others as well ? What if it's just not us two and I come with flowers like a fool ? I have to ask them. But will I look stupid if I do so ? …" He thought to himself.

"Um, just to make sure we're on the same page, [Name], it's a uh… d-"

"Date, yeah. Tomorrow night." You say with a small smile, slightly proud of yourself as you look into his eyes.

You swear you could see the way the air got stuck in his throat as he stopped breathing.

"Okay." He started, still sheepish. "Good." And with that he turns around and leaves. He doesn't know where he's going but he's definitely going somewhere. He needs a walk to calm down anyway.

Not that the food was bad the other times but you ate extra good this evening. You had plenty of choice and even Luffy didn't know where to start.