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artist-issues · 1 year ago

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Disney doesn't need to change "the formula." That's the last thing that Wish proves.

What Wish proves is that "the formula" only works when you know why the ingredients are in it, and you use them the correct way.

The Princess Character is meant to wish for only half of the movie's message, and go through an adventure that teaches her what the other half is; what her dream was missing. Ariel dreamed of understanding but she was missing love. Tiana dreamed of achieving her goals but she was missing faith. Jasmine dreamed of freedom but she was missing trust. Belle dreamed of adventure but she was missing being understood.

The Villain is meant to highlight the opposite of the movie's message. Jafar gets what he wants through trickery and manipulation; that's the opposite of Aladdin's "truth will set you free" message, and he gets imprisoned in a lamp. Scar thinks being a King is having his way all the time and can't learn from his past of living in Mufasa's shadow; that's the opposite of The Lion King's "Let the past remind you of your responsibility to selflessness." Gaston loves only himself and is always obsessed with appearances; that's the opposite of Beauty & the Beast's "true love is found within a heart of self-sacrifice." That's what makes them such good villains. (and that clear direction is what drives good villain songs, since Magnifico's is what everyone is talking about)

The sidekick is supposed to compare/contrast with the main character's qualities. Abu is a greedy thief, which is what everyone in Agrabah thinks Aladdin is; when he scolds Abu and teaches him selflessness, it shows us who Aladdin actually is. Flounder is easily frightened and looks at the glass half-full; when Ariel coaxes him and leads by example, we see her bravery and positivity reflected in Flounder's tiny character arc. Timon & Pumbaa do whatever they want all day just like young Simba always dreamed of; when Simba goes to live with them, he finds that "getting his way all the time" makes him forget who he really is and feel empty.

The setting is supposed to show off the characters and highlight the movie's message. Rapunzel's tower is designed to be pretty on the inside because of her influence; if it were too dark and prison-shaped, we'd wonder why she didn't work up the courage to leave sooner. Just like how Quasimodo has made his corner of the bell-tower beautiful, too; they're taught the world is cruel and they're not strong enough for it, but they make their own worlds beautiful enough to hint that that's wrong right from the start. Ariel's grotto is shaped like a tower with no roof so that she only has one window to the forbidden Surface, and it's the light that comes from that forbidden world into her dark grotto which literally makes her able to see human things differently. Tiana's apartment has no interesting features except her father's picture, a perfectly made bed, a drawer with no extra outfits but stuffed with tip money, and only two dresses; both of which are for work.

None of that is happening in Wish, because they didn't know why the formula ingredients are there. Disney needs to understand and return to the formula the right way; forgetting it was what got them here.

Asha learns nothing to add to her dream, unless you count "the power to grant wishes is in me." Which you shouldn't, because we didn't even know she was confused about that until the animals sang a song that was completely off-topic and she had the chance to jump in and sing "I'm a Star!"

Magnifico does not demonstrate the opposite of Wish's message effectively because his character has nothing to do with a philosophy against making wishes, and everything to do with power. (He is the strongest character in the film. But because the message and core concept of what wishes are are so bad, that's not saying much.)

Valentino, and Asha's friends, do not highlight anything about her character through compare/contrast. Valentino is brave and all over the place. Her friends are seven-dwarfs parodies. Happy, Doc, Sneezy, Dopey, Bashful, Sleepy, Grumpy. None of that contrasts with Asha's vague characterization of "cares too much." None of it compares to that characterization, either.

The setting is empty. There are no interesting details that teach you something about any of the characters. None in Asha's home, none in the neat-and-tidy one-dimensional forest, none in the Rosas square, and none in the bland, empty castle. Magnifico's study is the closest anything gets; there's a loose concept that all of Asha's friends have to work together to open the roof, and take a leap of faith to weigh the pulley system down. Unfortunately, none of these characters is shown struggling to work together, OR to take leaps of faith, at all, before this point.

The ingredients of the formula are in Wish. They're just not being used correctly. This is how not to use the formula; it's not the formulas fault. If it ain't broke. They should never have let people convince them to try and fix it.

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 6 months ago

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ooohhhhhh, please can you write a smut with aegon? maybe where he catches her in the town with some guy she’s been seeing and he just gets jealous and they go back to the keep and it’s just angsty but smutty. tyyyyy 😚

Request: Aegon weds Helaena instead of his twin sister. They continue seeing each other but Alicent force them apart and end this with smut

Warnings: 18+, smut, humping, mention of p + v, sibling incest,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Since birth, you and Aegon had always been attached to the hip. You fed from your mother’s breasts at the same time, napped together, bathed together, and continued doing so as you grew up. Where Aegon went, you followed.

When your bodies started to change, you pointed it out to each other and did things the Faith of the Sevens considered sins.

Because of your bond, you always assumed you would wed your twin brother when you could flower, but Aegon ended up being betrothed to your younger sister, Helaena. Neither you or Aegon were pleased with the decision. He didn’t love Helaena, and never would. She was just a wife he had to bed until his seed took.

On nights Aegon didn’t see Helaena, he snuck to your chambers. With you, he didn’t need to imagine someone else’s face to keep his cock hard. All he had to do was look in your eyes — and your perky breasts and pink cunny.

Eventually, you got caught and your mother took the decision to order a guard at your door at night.

Three years went by since you last shared a bed, since you last felt each other’s naked body. You had turned to brothels, buying yourself the finest looking men that would fill the void of your brother - although none would equal his beauty.

It was difficult seeing him around the Keep and staying away from each other. All you wanted was to throw yourself into Aegon’s arms and never let go.

‘’You smell new tonight, Princess,’’ the blond boy complimented as he kissed your skin, smelling something different. ‘’Although I do not recognize what it is.’’

‘’Jasmin,’’ you said, tilting your neck to give him more space. ‘’I brought home soaps from Highgarden when I visited.’’

He continued to kiss your body as you laid there in the silks of your private chamber, veils of curtains shielding you from the prying eyes of the customers. It was no secret that the princess was frequenting brotels of the Street of Silk, but your naked body was not for open view. Only those who were given golden coins had the chance to see what hid beneath your sumptuous dresses.

Tonight, his name was Dorian, or mayhaps Davos. It was the same to you. He had a pair of blue eyes that reminded you of Aegon's, which had heavily influenced your choice of boy of pleasure. You've laid with him before. He was one of your favorites. Sweet, delicate faced and he had a decent cock.

His kisses were light as his lips descended down your naked body. His hands trailed down your collarbones and to your supple breasts. You sighed in pleasure, appreciating the way he was suckling on your nipple.

‘’Does the Princess like how I'm taking care of her?’’ he asked sweetly, wanting to please.

You relaxed against the pillows. ‘’Very much.’’

Dorian continued to kiss lower and lower, until he reached your lower stomach. ‘’May I touch you, Princess?’’

You nodded in consent, a long moan leaving your parted lips when Dorian’s thumb circled your neglected pearl. After a month of traveling, a month of only having your hands to pleasure yourself, your body was sensitive and in need.

On the other side of the curtains, Aegon was strolling through the brothel with a goblet of wine in his hand, rubbing himself over his breeches while looking for a suitable cunny to dip his cock in. There were women of every kind. Some were half-naked, others fully exposed, all wearing expressions of lust and desire.

As he walked past one of the curtained-off rooms, he couldn’t help but notice the feminine moans and gasps coming from within. Curious, Aegon paused in his steps and pulled the curtain slightly open.

Aegon’s eyes widened at the sight before him. He almost dropped the goblet in his hand at the pure shock of realizing whose body was being pleasured behind the curtain. His twin sister. His sister that he had not touched in so long.

You writhed and moaned so prettily on the silken sheets, your face scrunched up in pleasure at the work of the boy of pleasure in the bed.

With his hand still gripping the curtain, Aegon pulled it open and stormed into the room. His eyes were burning with jealousy and fury, his voice sharp when he spoke. ‘’Get out.’’

The boy of pleasure looked up in surprise, gasping at the sight of your twin brother standing at the end of the bed. He glanced at you, then back to Aegon, not knowing what to do. You had paid for his company, he should stay. But the rage on Aegon’s face terrified him.

“I said get out,” Aegon repeated with his jaw clenched, his eyes never leaving you. ‘’It’s a command from your prince of the realm and heir to the throne.’’

The boy of pleasure hurried off the bed and left the room, leaving you and Aegon together.

You sat up when the curtains closed again, your eyes wide and your body stiff. With the way Aegon burst through the curtains with such anger and rage on his face, you knew exactly what he was feeling. Jealousy.

‘’What in the Seven fucking Hells is this?’’ His voice was sharp and harsh, and his blood was boiling. ‘’You let whores sully your body with his disreputable seed?’’

You poured yourself more wine into your cup and took a small sip under Aegon’s gaze, not bothering to cover your body. ‘’I don’t let them fill me, if that’s what you’re worried about. There is no bastard babe in my womb.’’

Aegon clenched his jaw at your response. The fact that you were so casual, that you were so calm was making him even more angry. He took a few steps towards you, his eyes roaming over your naked and exposed body. Gods, you were so beautiful. The memory of the many times he had you like this under him flashed through his mind, and he cursed under his breath, his cock hardening in his breeches.

‘’You let someone unworthy between your legs. You…you betrayed me!’’

You almost laughed at the absurdity of his words. Betrayed him?

‘’Mother forced us apart,’’ you reminded him. She was the villain of the story, not you. ‘’What was I supposed to do, Aegon? Plot for my sister’s death so I could wed her widower husband?’’

‘’We could have used the hidden passages and seen each other behind Mother’s back.’’

‘’And risk her exiling me to Oldtown?’’ You shook your head, refusing this to be your fate.

‘’I would not have let her.’’ He climbed over the bed and reached for your chin with a firm grip. Forcefully, he tilted your face up to look at him. ‘’I would not have let her take you from me.’’ Aegon’s voice was lower and huskier now that he was so close to you, and you could feel the heat coming off his body. He let go of your chin but didn’t move away, trapping you between his arms.

As he hovered over you, your eye’s met with his. You felt like you could almost drown in their blue hue. This was his natural state, you knew. Full of fire and lust, unable to control his emotions. His breathing became deeper and more ragged as he continued to stare down at you.

You were both silent for a moment until Aegon suddenly lowered his head, burying his face into your neck. He nipped and sucked at your skin, biting down hard just to hear you hiss. His body pressed you down into the bed, humping against you. His clothes felt rough against your bare skin, but the friction of your bodies sent shocks of pleasure through each other.

‘’Ahh, I need you, Aegon,’’ you mewled in his ear, fingers clutching at his commoner tunic. His hard bulge was pressing against your naked cunny, the wetness seeping from you staining the fabric every time he rubbed against you.

His lips kissed their way up your jaw, then he brushed his nose against yours. ‘’Have me.’’

The lewd sounds came from behind the curtains echoed through the brothel all night, making customers wish they could have a turn with whoever was giving pleasure. Little did they know, it wasn't a brothel worker who was behind the curtains, but a prince and a princess who were making up for three years of craving each other.

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden @memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit @blublock404 @Icefyre19 @paulilvsremus @mfedits @aemondwhoresworld @angrybirdxx @YarianyIrizarry @frutiloopslupin @minedofmoria @aleemendoza2425-blog @quinquinquincy @Rosey1981 @maria-reads-everything @eddieslut69 @barnes70stark @baybaybear @prettyduckling22 @Briefwinnerpersonaturtle @darlingcharling-blog @deliaseastar @Wolfgirl-205 @visenyareads @Nanaldy @Lovelywiseprincess @not-neverland06 @newtmyhusb @mikimimic

All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity Anouk nani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21 @Spacexdrago @nhlfs

#aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the second #house targaryen #house of the dragon #taylor swift #hotd

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chocoperrito · 11 days ago

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Jasmine Shapeshifter + Ferality alt

explanation + isolated icons below cut , was first posted to my discord server and I debated posting it here due to the large description but !! sits .

Jasmine Shapeshifter:

Jasmine Shapeshifters at their core are (already or wanting to be) domestic, faithful, passionate, and devoted beings who physically and mentally shift into various forms, not limited to 'this-world' domesticated animals or even animals at all. Their presentations and identity are perceived as confusing or complicated at times, often related to their presentation, shifting in general, and functions. This term is not inherently unhuman/nonhuman, but is primarily based on an individual's mind being animalistic and domestic in nature. While their existence is complex, they always aim to be an ideal companion, partner, pet, etc to their loved one(s).

Ferality alt:

An alternative/complimentary flag for Jasmine Shapeshifters who experience the struggles of ferality. The user may or may not go feral voluntarily, but primarily involuntarily. This could be due to a number of reasons, often stress or fright, but regardless of the potentially wild nature brought about, at their core, the presence and/or desire for domestication is ingrained.

Isolated symbols:

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grandmother-goblin · 1 month ago

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No One Will Notice

Chapter 1

Ao3 - Masterlist

Summary: It had been nearly an entire day since Emmrich's wonderful date with Rook in the Memorial Gardens, but he couldn't help but worry that he had left a less-than-favorable impression. Especially given the disastrously awkward end to the evening.

Relationships: Emmrich x Female!Rook

Rating: Explicit (18+) for eventual smut.

Word Count: 3.7k

Tags: Kitchen make-outs, romance, fluff, age-gap, relationship discussion about aforementioned age-gap, gratuitous overthinking.

The small, antique clock atop the fireplace in Emmrich’s room ticked away another minute, and it felt like it was taunting him. Reminding him that he had made next to no progress in reviewing a colleague’s latest book based on studies of lesser known and rare spirits. A fascinating topic, and one that he had been looking forward to reading, but he couldn’t focus.

He hadn’t been able to focus on anything. Not on the book in his lap, or his lessons with Manfred. His mind even wandered off whilst in the middle of corpse-whispering. His date with Isera in the Memorial Gardens last night had consumed his every thought.

It played over and over again in his mind like a carousel of ephemeral memories. Most of which were quite pleasant — Isera’s red painted lips as she smiled at him from across the table, the huskiness of her voice and the lightness of her laughter, the way her fingers played with his as she wordlessly asked to hold his hand, her soft moan when he captured her mouth with his…

The phantom of her touch lingered on his lips like a schoolboy who had their very first kiss. He swore he could still smell her perfume when he closed his eyes — a delicate mix of sandalwood and jasmine that he had inhaled when he lavished her slender throat with his lips. His face warmed when he thought of how she had breathlessly whispered his name, and what she might have sounded like had they gone further.

But that moment just outside of her bedroom cut through his heated memories like a shard of ice.

In retrospect, he could have handled things much better, but he had simply panicked. Emmrich rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb, exhaling deeply as he tried to ward off the chill of discomfiture, knowing he had let his nerves get the best of him. All because of a persistent, nagging thought — one that he had incorrectly presumed he had already come to terms with — decided to rear its head the moment Isera’s eyes invitingly flickered toward the bedroom door.

Self-consciousness, shame, and fear doused his lust and desire in an instant.

Twenty-seven years.

Isera was twenty-seven years younger than him. Her bright eyes, deep-green like winter conifers and framed with long lashes, had no signs of crow's feet, and there wasn’t a single strand of grey in her dark brown hair.

He was old enough to be her father, yet he had been treating her as he would someone around his own age the entire night. Like they were two grown adults on a lovely date, which they were, but…

What would other people think when they saw him and Isera together? Would they think he was some lecherous old man, manipulating a young woman who didn’t know any better into bed? Would they judge Isera for being attracted to him and accuse her of unsavory motivations?

People would talk, regardless of either his or Isera’s feelings or intentions toward one another. Moving too quickly would only feed the worst of the people who would see their relationship in bad faith.

More than his own reputation, he worried for hers. What if she hadn’t thought things through? What if she ended up regretting spending the night with him? Emmrich would never have been able to forgive himself.

So, instead of accepting the invitation that he had secretly been hoping for the entire night, he had taken a step back.

He needed to be cautious. He needed to take things slower than he would have liked. For both of their sakes.

A teasing specter of belated regret haunted him, replaying the moment he had pulled away from her. The moment the desire in Isera’s eyes was replaced with hurt and confusion. How her throat bobbed as she swallowed down his rejection. How she gave him a hollow smile when he blamed the late hour and the wine and the need to be responsible. Reasons that had nothing to do with her, or his feelings towards her.

He should have just been honest with her.

He should have at least tried to correct himself before he said goodnight. But the damage had already been done and he feared any immediate attempt to rectify the situation would seem disingenuous. So instead, he had pressed a kiss to her forehead, a feeble attempt at reassurance. Considering how small her voice sounded when she bid him goodnight, it didn’t do much good.

Emmrich closed the book in his lap and stared at the dwindling flames in the fireplace, resting his chin on his hand as he leaned against the arm of his chair. After hours of teasing touches and stolen kisses… oh, he couldn’t begin to imagine what Isera might think of him.

The best he could hope for was that Isera saw the whole interaction as nothing more than the faux pas that it was, and she was willing to forgive him for leading her on for the entire evening. Had he been in her shoes, he would probably be wracking his brain trying to figure out where things had gone wrong.

A log in the fireplace crackled, and Emmrich’s eyes followed a single bright orange ember as it blackened, burning out in the soot. If he didn’t talk to Isera soon, he feared his relationship with her might do the same.

They hadn’t spoken since they had parted ways last night. Emmrich hadn’t seen her at breakfast, or while he was assisting Bellara with one of her projects in the courtyard, or when he had spent an hour reading in the main library where he had secretly hoped he would catch her. Perhaps on her way into or out of her room, or the courtyard, or even the eluvian. Most days, he would have run into her at least once or twice, but not today.

Well, enough was enough. Emmrich stood from his chair and returned his colleague’s book to the bookshelf, knowing he was in no state to give it a proper review while Isera occupied his every thought. He needed to talk to her. The only reason he hadn’t done so sooner was that part of him had been hoping that Isera would have sought him out as she usually did, giving him some reassurance that everything was still okay between them.

But she hadn’t. And if she was upset with him, he needed to do whatever he could to try to ameliorate the situation.

That was, of course, if she still wanted him.

Emmrich turned to a small, ornate mirror he kept perched on a bookshelf and quickly checked over his reflection. “You’re being ridiculous,” he muttered to himself as he straightened his collar pin. “You just made a bit of a fool of yourself, that’s all. There is nothing to worry about. Isera will be perfectly understanding.”

Talking to himself helped soothe his anxiety, if only a little bit. Sometimes it was easier to put his problems into perspective by saying them aloud. What happened outside the bedroom was just a tiny hiccup in their relationship — a learning experience.

According to the clock above the fireplace, it was close to supper time. Provided that the cooking rotation hadn’t changed without him knowing, he knew he would find Isera in the kitchen making something delicious. Perhaps he could see if she required any assistance and, if they were alone, he could talk to her before the team all sat down to eat.

Ideally, he and Isera could have a productive conversation and everything would be good between them before their companions could suspect something was amiss.

He and Isera had yet to discuss how to broach the topic of their relationship with the rest of the team. It was so new, and it hadn’t seemed necessary. But he would hate for the others to find out in less than ideal circumstances. He would never hear the end of it.

Worry trickled into his stomach again at the thought of what their companions might think; an old man like himself in a relationship with a young woman like Isera…

Emmrich pushed those thoughts aside before they could catch a foothold in his mind. The others could think whatever they wanted to think. Isera was the only person he needed to be worried about. Everyone else’s opinion was secondary.

Isera was a grown woman, perfectly capable of making her own decisions about whose company she wished to keep. And she had shown that time and time again that she wanted him with her soft smiles, silken kisses and sweet words.

And it was high time he assured her that he still wanted her too.

—

Isera laid another thin sheet of pasta over her carefully measured dollops of a mushroom and ricotta mixture. She had made this recipe dozens of times, yet she had still made a few more mistakes while constructing the ravioli than she cared to admit. Nothing unsalvageable, but it did end up taking more time than she had expected.

Normally she would have picked something easier to make for the team than homemade pasta, but after her date with Emmrich ended somewhat awkwardly, she found herself craving some comfort food.

Her face heated as she remembered the mild panic on Emmrich’s face when he pulled away from her. It was as if he had suddenly realized he had forgotten something important — something that needed to be addressed immediately. But instead of telling her what that something was, he gave her a flimsy excuse about the late hour and walked away like he had other places to be.

It didn’t feel right. Not because he had turned her down, but it was more about the manner in which he did so. If he wasn’t comfortable with going further, she was perfectly fine with that. It simply seemed odd to her that they had been tiptoeing toward the bedroom the entire night only for him to turn tail once they got to the door.

Had she completely misread the situation? Her stomach fluttered at the memory of his hands on her hips, and the subtle roughness of his facial hair against her skin as his lips dragged down her neck to her collarbone.

Isera shook her head. Something happened. Something must have happened. She just didn’t know what. What was worse, she wasn’t even sure how to ask him about it. What could she say? Hey, I know you said you wanted to stop last night because it was late but I think that’s bullshit and you should tell me what was really going on?

There was a reason why none of her previous relationships had lasted very long, and it was mostly her own fault. Being direct and honest worked great for her professionally, but in interpersonal relationships or matters that required a more delicate touch, not so much. It was something she was working on.

Waiting for a pot of water to come to a boil, Isera leaned against the kitchen counter and took a sip from her glass of white wine. If Emmrich simply wasn’t ready to spend the night together, she wished he would have said as much. At least then she could stop fretting over whether or not she had done something wrong.

Whatever happened last night, more than anything, she hoped Emmrich was okay. She hoped she hadn’t made him uncomfortable, or made him feel pressured — that was the last thing she wanted. She hoped that the awkwardness was just new relationship jitters and nothing more.

She took another slow sip of wine—

“Isera, darling?”

The wine caught in the back of her throat. Turning away from the counter, she managed to swallow it down before breaking into a pathetic, barely stifled, coughing fit.

Yep, that was exactly the first thing she wanted him to see after last night. If he hadn’t been attracted to her before, he certainly would be now.

“Hi, Emmrich,” she croaked, her cheeks burning from nearly choking on her wine and her dignity.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, my dear,” he said with a warm chuckle as he approached. “Can I get you anything? Perhaps some water?”

Isera shook her head. Given her luck, she’d probably choke on the water too. “I’m good,” she said, catching her breath. “Let’s just pretend you didn’t see that.”

“You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said, smiling at her in a way that oddly made her feel a little better. At least, it made her feel like he wasn’t completely disgusted by her. “These sorts of things happen. I’ve certainly had my fair share of such moments.”

“You should tell me one of them. Just to make us even.”

“Oh, give it time,” he replied. “I’m certain things will even out in that department soon enough.”

A smile tugged on the corner of her lip at the implication; if he thought he would be around long enough to embarrass himself, perhaps she hadn’t turned him off from her after all.

“Dinner should be ready in the next half hour.” Isera turned her attention back to the pot of now boiling water. “I just have to finish up the sauce and cook the pasta.”

Emmrich’s hand brushed over the small of her back as he looked over her shoulder. “Is there anything I can do to provide some assistance,” he asked, his tone light and friendly, like there wasn’t a hint of anything wrong between them. “Though it seems like you’ve done most of the hard work. The pasta looks absolutely perfect, by the way.”

The compliment combined with his causal touch made her stomach do a funny little flip. “Thank you,” she said, sounding more composed than she felt. “If you want to cook the ravioli for me, that would be very helpful. We’ll have to cook them in a few batches.”

Emmrich pressed a brief kiss to the top of her head. “Consider it done, my dear,” he said and went to the sink. He pushed up his sleeves and his bracelets far enough that he could wash his hands without getting anything else wet, and Isera couldn’t help the smile tugging on her lips as she watched him from the corner of her eye. It wasn’t uncommon for Mourn Watchers, especially senior ones, to wear their grave goods as part of their daily attire, but Isera couldn’t remember the last time she had been so entranced by someone’s jewelry.

Or, perhaps, her fascination only had to do with the man wearing it.

Last night, she had asked him about his rings as she played with his hands. One had once belonged to his father, another had a protective enchantment, yet another was one that he wore simply because he enjoyed it. She remembered the feel of them against her skin when laced his fingers with her own, when he cupped her face and brought his mouth to hers, when he slipped his hands beneath her shirt….

Focus. If she messed up dinner because she was too busy thinking about Emmrich, she was never going to let herself live that down.

Isera turned her attention to the cutting board and kitchen knife she had set out earlier and began to work on preparing garlic for the sauce. Behind her, she could hear Emmrich starting on his own task.

Although everything seemed like it had gone back to normal between them, Isera’s found herself unable to relax as the silence stretched between them. Normally, bouts of silence between her and Emmrich were perfectly comfortable, but not now.

“I had a lot of fun last night,” Isera said, knowing she would drive herself mad if she didn’t at least try to talk to him about what had been plaguing her mind all day. She just had to be careful about it. Nothing too direct. She didn’t want to accidentally accuse him of something that only existed in her head.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied, sounding genuine. “Although, speaking of last night, there is something I want to talk to you about. Regarding when we parted for the evening.”

Anticipatory dread dropped down in her stomach, and she set her chopping aside before her nerves caused her to make a mistake. “I’ve been wanting to talk about that too. I feel like I might have misread the situation, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Isera, you didn’t misread anything.” His voice was so soft and warm that it immediately eased some of her anxiety. “You were perfect, my dear. I’m the one who ought to apologize for making you doubt yourself for even a moment.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him with a slight frown. “It was hard not to think so,” she said. “You left so suddenly. I felt like I had done something wrong and you were just making an excuse to leave.”

Emmrich sighed. “I suppose I was, but it was just…” His lips drew into a thin line as he stared at the pot as if he hoped it would finish his sentence for him. “Until that moment— If we were closer in age, I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But with the years between us, I worried that taking that step too soon might negatively impact your perception of me.”

“But you knew that going into this.”

“I know,” he agreed, his voice soft and twinged with unmistakable shame. “I suppose it didn’t truly sink in until then.”

Isera leaned back against the counter and picked up her glass of wine, needing something to do with her hands as her stomach tied itself in knots.

There wasn’t anything she could do if he truly found himself uncomfortable with the years between them. While she would be incredibly frustrated that he hadn’t spoken up sooner, maybe even a little angry, she would accept it. She’d have to. At least he would have nipped their romantic relationship in the bud rather than waiting for it to bloom.

Isera took a sip of her wine and turned her gaze downward, mentally counting the tiles on the floor as the seconds stretched on. “So what does that mean? Do you… want to stop?”

A wooden spoon clattered against the counter. “No!” he said and crossed the kitchen in a few long strides. “No, no, no. Not at all.”

Carefully, he took the glass of wine from her and set it on the counter behind her. Then he gathered her hands in his, giving them reassuring squeeze as he looked at her imploringly. “It means I spent the entire day wishing I had simply asked you if you thought we were moving too quickly instead of making the decision for both of us.” His thumb brushed over hers soothingly and he sighed. “I let my nerves get the better of me. And for that, I’m sorry. It had nothing to do with you. I need you to know that.”

Slowly, the tension in her muscles eased as she absorbed his words. A relieved breath of laughter passed her lips. “I was worried that I had scared you off.”

“Impossible, dearest.” The warm metal of his jewelry against her skin was like a balm to her frayed nerves as he adjusted his hold on her hand. As if she were some sort of lady rather than a warrior, he brought her fingers to his lips. Without breaking his gaze, he pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”

Warmth pooled in the pit of her stomach as her heartbeat quickened, her worries evaporating into the ether. “Are you sure?” she asked, the question genuine despite the playfulness of her tone. “You might have to convince me.”

“Absolutely,” he said and took a step closer, forcing her to tilt her head back to see him. He dragged his thumb across her lower lip as he cradled her face in his palms. “But I could certainly try to convince you anyway.”

“I think you should.”

“As do I,” Emmrich whispered, his mouth brushing against hers as he spoke.

His long, elegant, fingers slid to the nape of her neck, threading through her dark hair, before he covered her mouth with his. Isera inhaled deeply as she looped her arms around his neck, breathing in the scent of him — the faint smell of his aftershave, like citrus and tea leaves, and the clean scent of his soap. His presence, his touch, enveloped her completely. It was all too easy to forget where they were.

Soft but commanding, he nudged her mouth open with a confident stroke of his tongue. She let him walk her back until he nearly had her bent over the countertop, her body pressed between the hard surface and the firm contours of his body. Despite friendly jokes claiming otherwise from Davrin and Taash, Emmrich was remarkably fit. As if to prove it, he slid his arms around her and lifted her easily onto the edge of the counter.

Her hands cupped his face as he continued to kiss her like there was nothing in the world he would rather be doing. Heat pooled deep within her as he tilted her head, exploring her mouth with satiny strokes of his tongue. She couldn’t help but smile at the delicate tickle of his mustache against her skin as his mouth caught hers again and again and again.

“Emmrich,” she breathed, lifting her mouth from his. “As much as I hate to ruin the mood… the pasta…”

His eyes widened with a brief, minor, flash of alarm. “Oh, dear.” He pressed another brief, heated kiss to her lips before scurrying across the kitchen to rescue the first batch of ravioli. “It appears they survived our momentary inattentiveness.”

Isera laughed and slid off of the counter. “I should have picked something that doesn’t cook so quickly.”

“Not sure if that would have helped,” he replied as he started on the next batch. “You could keep me occupied for hours, my dear.”

Crimson colored her cheeks, ignited by the heat in his words the spark of desire in his gaze. She swallowed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Emmrich stirred the pot. “So will I.”

---

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

#emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #emmrook #datv fanfic #datv #dragon age the veilguard #oc: isera ingellvar

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muirneach · 5 months ago

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what did i fucking say

jakub vs felix fills me with fear

#not even a set? felix.#i have no faith in any of my canadians they all have the worst imaginable draw #leylah might be okay idk #denis i dont think can beat bvdz but even if he does he plays carlos next round #i dont thknk diallo can beat munar but i never have any expectations for him hes just a kid so whatever #bianca. well. its not great. jasmine first round 😑#felix had the best draw i think but mensik is just so tough

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midnighvtm4ss · 7 months ago

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A scenario I often imagine is Arthur drawing you while you show him your favorite music. Him simply worshiping your body, making you his muse and capturing it in his journal forever ♡⁠˖

thank you so much for your request !

You’re my first request im super super excited !! I hope you like it and that I met your expectations even though it’s a quick read <3

highhonor!arthur morgan x f!reader

warnings: maybe a bit suggestive but mostly fluff, wrote this on my notes app so grammar errors for sure sorry :(

wc: 1.2k

“Wanna put some music on f’me sweetheart ?”

The deep rumble of Arthur’s voice muffled in the crook of your neck broke the silent shared bubble of intimacy that surrounded both your naked bodies.

His hands holding you close to him, tracing abstract shapes on your back as you both came down from your highs, a very well-deserved peace after the events of the past month.

The mood around your fellow camp members was slowly starting to get better after escaping the cold claws of Colter’s harsh climate, which trapped the gang in an endless white desert of snow for several weeks with little to no food and an abundance of regret regarding the failed robbery and the miraculous escape from Blackwater.

Although the evening air was still a bit chilly in Horseshoe Overlook camp, being only the early start of spring, one could sense hope warming all your hearts, melting away some of the sorrow and disappointment that the failed robbery and the loss of young Jenny and the Callander brothers left you.

Dutch, more than anyone else, clinging to this glimmer of hope, trying to keep everyone’s faith in the gang.

The wind whistling through the flaps of your and Arthur’s shared tent made a shiver run up your naked body as you made your way from your shared cot where you two were laying, to Dutch’s gramophone, which was opposite the bed, kindly lent to Arthur for a few days.

A small thin cloud of dust and dirt rose up from where your hands flipped through Dutch’s records, eyes scanning meticulously trying to find some of your favourite ones.

Behind you, you could hear the shifting sound of the thick cotton sheets as Arthur moved into a sitting position, his eyes automatically glued to your seductive form like a moth to a flame.

“A ha ! Here it is” you softly exclaimed as you finally found the record you were looking for, the one that never failed to put your mind at ease whenever Dutch would play it around camp.

Sliding it out of the wooden box, careful not to scratch it, you put it on.

As the soft melody of ‘The Flower Duet’ filled the rather small space of your tent you started to sway to the rhythm of the song.

“Sous le dôme épais, où le blanc jasmin à la rose s'assemble”

Turning back to look at Arthur, you found him already looking at you, his aqua irises mixing with yours for a second before quickly looking down his lap and scribbling in his worn leather journal, his face relaxed and a small hint of a smile making its way into his chapped lips.

“What you writing in there ?” you asked softly, body still swaying to the sweet rhythm of your favorite song, a shy smile creeping up your face.

“Nothin’, just some quick…” he took a moment to finish his sentence as he looked back at you, eyes flying to catch every single inch and detail of you.

How the light from the small lamp on the night table made your skin glow and your curves even more defined with the contrast from the darkness of the night sky outside, your french braids, all untidy from the intimacy shared before, shifting with every move you made.

In this moment in his eyes, you were the definition of a goddess, his poor mortal heart struggling to keep an even pace near you.

“…thoughts.” he exhaled the last word, licking his chapped lips before flipping through some pages of his journal seemingly filled with various sketches.

“Ah! Glissons en suivant doucement glissons, de son flot charmant”

As a comfortable silence fell between the two of you with only the soft melodic sound floating in the air and the scraping of Arthur’s pencil on paper you continue to sway, your mind floating away carried by the suave voice of the singer, unaware that the man sitting on your bed is engraving this peaceful and intimate moment forever on paper for his eyes and his heart only to see.

“Dans l'onde frémissante, d’une main nonchalante, gagnons le bord”

His eyes were bright and focused on how to draw your mesmerizing face, afraid of not portraying your unworldly beauty right on paper, so focused that he was slightly surprised when your soft arms wrapped around his torso as you climbed back to your cot, planting a small kiss on his bearded cheek making his heart skip a few beats.

As you rested your head on his shoulder you looked down on his lap expecting to find a doodle or a quick thought scribbled away in his perfect cursive handwriting, but instead, your eyes were met with a full sketched page of you dancing near the gramophone.

With cheeks of a deep red and wide eyes, you looked at Arthur, trying to say something but failing as your heart filled with even more adoration for the not so cold hearted outlaw beside you.

“Sous le dôme épais où le blanc jasmin, ah !Descendons, ensemble!”

Your relationship with Arthur was relatively new, barely six months, and in those six months of relationship you would often catch Arthur sitting somewhere quiet and isolated with his journal, sometimes writing stuff down or sometimes moving his pencil in quick strokes which you guessed were doodles of stuff he would see every day, but you would have never guessed how talented he was in his art.

“Well it ain’t much of a picture” he murmured, a faint, almost imperceptible blush covering the apple of his cheeks, feeling self conscious of his skills under your attentive gaze.

“Oh you silly man, it’s beautiful, Arthur” you quickly reprimanded him with an awestruck tone, your index finger gently caressing the drawing careful not to put much pressure and smudge the graphite version of you.

“Can I see more of your drawings ?” you asked him, meeting his unsure gaze which was already on you, with your hopeful lovesick one. After a quick internal struggle, he fully put his journal in your hands, giving you full permission to explore this new side of him.

As you flipped through the pages you started to see fewer drawings of plants, animals and views and more drawings of you, from portraits to full body.

He carefully captured in each drawing every single detail of you, your beauty stuck graphite to paper, making you look like a lady every painter would fight for the opportunity to draw.

With each passing page, you also noticed how some drawings featured you in more intimate moments, some when you were asleep or braiding your hair, but one in particular made you stop your flipping, heart racing as a deep blush rushed to your whole face.

On a rather empty page, on the left bottom corner there was a drawing of you naked, splayed on the bed, your expression one of pleasure with your hands seemingly caressing your body.

You stared at the drawing for a full five seconds before Arthur noticed what you were looking at and snatched closed his journal in embarrassment his eyes avoiding yours.

“Well, that’s for another time sweetheart.”

#.rira’s posting ౨ৎ ⋆#arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur morgan #red dead fandom #divider from @roseraris on tumblr

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leqonsluv3r · 10 months ago

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bf!leon kennedy

—ID!leon kennedy x soft!croquette reader, a headcanon list

masterlist taglist

an: i cannot be controlled anymore. i promised i’d make it a series and im delivering slowly but surely. have faith in me lol, im doing my best to get requests out. i have them closed currently just so i can catch up and write them all in a timely manner. enjoy ID!bf leon kennedy in the mean time.

bf!leon kennedy who is getting too old for the soft cream sheets on your bed, he wants to just rip them off and demand something more mature. but he knows you wouldn’t like that. you practically yell at him anytime he tosses one of your stuffed animals too hard off the bed.

bf!leon kennedy who takes you out to dinner, makes sure your happy. he knows he’s not around as much as he should be so he takes the time when he can to treat you special. your his girl, he needs to.

bf!leon kennedy who makes sure your sleeping constantly when your next to him, even when he wakes up from nightmares. your scent of jasmine and laundry detergent makes him at ease, proves that everything is real and he’s really here with you.

bf!leon kennedy who lets you pack him notes in his lunch when he heads to the agency everyday. your cursive hand writing is sloppy but adorable, always writing for him to have a good day and that you love him. he’s just happy he has you to remind him when things get hard.

bf!leon kennedy who lets you press kisses all over him and hug him to death whenever he comes home unscathed from a mission or just a regular day at the agency. he loves when you show your love for him, always making him feel special and good. like all the things he had endured at this point have been worth it.

bf!leon kennedy who takes you shopping on his days off, not happy he has to stand around and hold your bags. but when you try your cute little skirts and dresses on, it makes it a tiny bit worth it. you would look pretty in a paper bag and he would still look at you all the same.

bf!leon kennedy who has your morning and nighttime skincare routine down, he watches you do it every morning and every night, never knowing that so many pieces came with you looking so pretty and gorgeous for him. but anything to make you happy, even if you don’t need all that to be beautiful in his eyes.

bf!leon kennedy who watches you organize your books on your bookshelf, clean up your shared space of your guys shared bedroom. all your little knickknacks and jewelry and frilly clothes. he doesn’t know how you do it, or why you like such a mundane looking room, but if it pleases you, it’s fine with him.

bf!leon kennedy who lets you crawl on-top of him in the early hours of the morning before he goes to work and press kisses everywhere. your lips pressing across his jaw, his cheeks, his neck and his lips. any place your pretty little self can reach, he’s letting you do it. you waking him up like this is another reason why his heart is so enamored with you in the first place.

bf!leon kennedy who helps you when you need to wash all your stuffed animals and sheets, helping you with chores. he likes being domestic with you, it makes him feel like he’s normal, like this is a normal life. like this matters, like his life has purpose with you.

bf!leon kennedy who drives you to the park or to the plant nursery so you can be around nature. he loves how you admire each plant anytime your out like this, the way you care for such things. it makes him happy to see you enjoying such a small part of life, gives him hope.

bf!leon kennedy who celebrates your guys three year anniversary, buying you anything and everything you want. taking you out all day. he cooks for you and makes your favorite dish, he buys you pink roses. he lets you dress in your dress and be all pretty for him.

bf!leon kennedy who eats with you, talking with you like he normally did everyday. but this time it’s different and leon is going to prove just how much he loves you. he slides a box out and watches your face change. you open the box and feel your eyes water when you see a diamond engagement ring.

bf!leon kennedy who watches as you nod rapidly, pretty tears and say yes over and over again. he slips it on your finger and smiles softly at you, watching as you practically hop over the table and hug and kiss him like your life depends on it. you smother him and kisses, tangling your sweet mouth with his.

bf!leon kennedy, who is very proud to not call himself your boyfriend anymore. but your fiancé and he’s proud of that title. of making you so happy and obligating to do that every single day for the rest of his life. he wants you everyday, every night and everywhere in between. he’s found his safe haven in this world, and it’s you. it always will be.

an: thank you for reading, reposting and likes are greatly appreciated. i’m trying to keep my posting schedule up and should have requests open when i’m finished with all the ones in my drafts. thank you guys for being patient with me. i love you all, kisses. xx

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help-itrappedmyself · 11 months ago

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Dead on Main part 6

Masterpost

This town is weird. Jason knows he shouldn’t be one to judge, considering Gotham and his own attachment to it. But this place is like a nightmare, stuck in time backwards-ness intermingled between the people and the place itself. It reminds him of Fawcett, which is not a good thing. He feels judged just walking down the street.

The head into a diner looking restaurant, fast food by the looks of it, that is in fact named Nasty Burger. Jason knows he shouldn’t judge. He’s doing it anyway.

There’s a girl behind the counter who seems to be glaring at Jason. Or Danny, but since he’s Jason right now, he decides he doesn’t need to deal with whatever her issue is. With little faith, Jason tells Jazz to order for him and goes to sit in a booth.

The couple in the booth next to him watch him as he heads to his booth and gape at him as he sits down.

“Danny, come on.” The guy whines, he and the girl both stand and come over to sit across from him. “What was that? Don’t want to sit with us?”

Jason tenses. “Uh.”

“Hey guys!” Jazz says, coming to sit next to Jason. She places a tray with a burger, fries, and a soft drink in front of him and he eyes it warily. “This is Jason.”

They two across from them get these stupid dumbfounded looks. The girl behind the counter is listening to their conversation.

“Jason, these are Danny’s friends, Sam and Tucker.” Jazz motions to the girl and then the boy.

“Nice to meet you.” Jason inclines his head at them, and decides to try a fry.

“Is he…” Sam stops herself. “Does he know about Danny?”

“Not much, but they haven’t officially met yet, obviously.” Jazz is eating her food like it’s normal, so Jason follows her lead on the burger as well. “Danny should be here sometime tomorrow.”

“Where is Danny now?” Tucker asks, concerned.

“With my family.” Sam and Tucker look at him strangely. He can tell they’re concerned for their friend though. “He’s being driven back now, they’re rotating drivers so they don’t have to stop for the night. He’ll be here as soon as he can.”

“Danny will be fine until he gets back.” Jazz comforts them. “Danny was more concerned about Jason, considering the food at our house.”

Sam and Tucker tense in response. “Right. I’d be worried about that too. Might want to stay at the house after this anyway.” Sam says lightly. Jason can tell he’s being talked around. Can hear them talking about something they don’t want him to know under the guise of their conversation, but he doesn’t know enough to make sense of it.

“Let us know if anything comes up of course, but Danny won’t be able to hang out for a while.” Jazz smiles at them, but her eyes are concerned.

“Sure thing.” Tucker says.

“If you guys want to have a chat where you can actually talk to each other, I can leave you along for a bit.” Jason tells them all.

“No!” Tucker says quickly. They don't seem like they care that he caught on, there's no shame to be excluding him. They all just seem worried about something. “Best you stay with Jazz.” He turns back to her. “The GIW tools were deactivated. The whole fiasco yesterday was a lot for everyone. But they should be up and running again by tomorrow.”

Jazz nods at them and Sam and Tucker leave, whisper-arguing to each other as they go.

They eat quietly for a minute, but Jazz stiffens as she looks at something out the window.

Jason follows her gaze to see her tracking a man outside. He’s pretty smarmy looking. Long grey hair, in a full suit, seems like more Brucie’s crowd than someone who would be in a place called Nasty Burger. But he’s spotted them through the window and does seem to be on his way in. ““Hey Jason, would it be cool if you went to the bathroom for a second? Nevermind, there’s no time, follow my lead.”

The man walks right up to their booth.

“Daniel, Jasmine, lovely to see you both.”

“Vlad, can we help you?” Jazz asks politely, Jason just glares at them man.

“You know I always love to see you, but I would like to speak with Daniel for a moment.”

“Unfortunately, Danny and I have places to be, Vlad. I’m sure my parents would love to speak with you though. Dad has been meaning to stop by.” Jazz gathers the trash and remnants of their meal and stands, going to throw them away. Jason gets up to follow her, but is stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He feels a tickle in his throat and his next breath comes out cold and foggy, visible in the air.

“Daniel, don’t you want to have a talk?” The hand on his shoulder is forceful.

“Don’t touch me.” Jason turns himself out of his grasp, backing away towards the door. Jazz pulls him quickly back onto the street towards home.

“Who the hell was that guy?”

“Danny’s godfather, friend of our parents. They went to college together.”

They’re walking past an alley when Jason feels that tickle again, he stops as his breath comes out cold, then something rams into him, pushing him to the ground farther in the alley.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dead on main #soulmate au #danny phantom #red hood #my writing #fanfiction

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