#he’d win every ribbon in the world

[pangur-and-grim]

Belphie looks so handsome today

[firemenenthusiast]

—“till death do us apart”

farleigh start x fem! reader

summary: sometimes even fate can be altered

warnings: angst. read at your own risk. plot twist. grammar of a non native english speaker

a/n: am i in my angst era ? also this is for mon cheri @farleighlover 😋 revenge for writing ‘numbingly obsessed’. this fic idea was like a bazooka shooting into my face i had to write it down

“What if we rewrite the stars? Say you were made to be mine. Nothing could keep us apart. You'd be the one I was meant to find”

the way the sun was shining brightly outside his window, soft amber glare richoceting off the balcony of his apartment told him that the even the universe was looking down upon them, blessing the entire day.-

it was cloudy, the sky hanging puffs of fluffy white, but not the type of cloudy that makes everyone moody, no. it was just nice, he thought, as he adjusted the gleaming links on his cuffs, black ribboned tux sitting perfectly on his broad shoulders. cocking his head slightly to the side, his tight dark brown curls bouncing out of his face making him shudder in anticipation. or was it nerves ? he couldnt really tell, too many staggering emotions filling into his head, fighting each other for a place behind those eyes. taking a last deep breath, he adjusted himself in the mirror before turning towards the door, pair of leather shoes carrying him away.

it’s been five years since your class graduated from oxford, or should you call it your alma mater now. it was probably the greatest day ever, being finally done with excruciatingly painful days of all nighters, pushing through everything else just to chase after submission dates. as much as you’re glad that it’s all over, the collection of memories with people there wrapping you like a fuzzy blanket. the only thing making oxford the best phase of your life is the people there. your friends, your dormmates, your classmates, felix, oliver, farleigh.

and farleigh.

everything was better because you got farleigh. he was always there for you, supporting you, making you feel like the luckiest person in the world that out of all the girls in oxford that he could easily get with, he chose you. and you chose him. i mean, it wouldn’t really be anything between the two of you if you didn’t give him a chance. as much as you liked him before the start of your relationship, you weren’t gonna let him in that easily. just thinking about how much you made him suffer to win you over made you let out a soft chuckle. you’d throw the bouquet of fresh flowers he’d left on your designated seat in class immediately after seeing them and god, was that humiliating for him. one thing farleigh absolutely couldn’t stand was being humiliated, or rejected. but he pushed through, he refused to give up because he liked you so much. he’s willing to fight through everything if it meant that you’d just give him a chance. he suprised himself with how much he was doing just to make you accept him, cuz he swore he would never be down so bad just for a girl. but for you, all that pride and need to maintain his reputation just got thrown out the window.

you and farleigh, it was like the two of you were made for each other, maybe it was your fault for not seeing that sooner but your relationship with him was everything to you after you gave in and give him a chance. it was like red blood, pumping oxygen to every part of your existence, he was like air to you. farleigh made you happy, made you feel all giddy whenever he’d wait outside of your class for you to finish so the two of you could grab lunch together, he was your yellow, your rock. at times you could feel your heart grow even fonder of him, slowly falling head over heels. his bright pearly smile fuelled your entire being, you catch yourself secretly grinning whenever you’d think of him. he was very charming, though sometimes so annoying and bratty. you didn’t care, if anything he was your annoying brat. whenever the two of you would spend the whole day wrapped in each other’s arms, you’d let out the biggest sigh of contentment after getting back to your dorm. farleigh protected you, shielding you from anything that was gonna hurt you, from physical dangers to the emotional ones when you’d struggle with your mental health. he knew everything about you, he knew the tricks and tweaks of winning over your heart. he was your guardian angel.

you’d also noticed how beautiful of a day it was outside, and you were thanking the universe for granting the both of you a chance for this day to be as beautiful as it could be. it was everything you’ve ever dreamed of, and it was exactly like how you’d imagine and daydreamed about it to be since you were a little girl. from the gorgeous white gown draped down your figure to the personally hand arranged bouquet of flower that you were gonna carry down the aisle. it was perfect, and so is the fact that you were gonna marry the love of your life. you couldn’t be more excited, scared and nervous. everyone had told you that it’s normal to be nervous, it’s probably the biggest moment in your life and you couldn’t risk it being even slightly ruined. everything had to be perfect, and they actually were. getting ready in the dressing room, you paced around to get your mind off things that you were overthinking about. what if you stumbled and ripped your gown ? what if you puked in the middle of the walk because you were too nervous ? in that moment you just wanted to tell your bridesmaid to go get your fiancé. you knew he could calm you down easily, he always did. little did you know that he was also taking deep breaths to cool himself down in another room.

the sleek black tux hugging farleigh nicely around his torso and his bust. the sleeves, perfectly tailored and not a single inch longer than it should be. he looked dashing, handsome even. but when is it that he doesn’t? stepping onto the venue, his chin tilted upwards, feasting his eyes upon the beautifully decorated hall. a small smile crept itself across his lips. it was just like how you always told him how you would like the place to look like when you get married. farleigh had always kept a mental note on the details, from the choice of flowers standing tall along the aisle, to the soft hue of innocent yellow dimly lighting up the whole place. you always had a vision when it comes to your wedding day, and he would listen to you talk about it, nodding away and even adding his own points on how he wanted his wedding to be. he had immaculate taste too, of course. chirping in to give you suggestions after suggestions just to make sure the vision of his and your wedding day was perfect. he didn’t really care, the only vivid thing he could imagine was the image of you standing in front of him, looking as pretty as always, smiling up at him as he vowed to take you as his lawfully wedded wife. it was innocent how the two of you would dream about this day.

guests were starting to fill up the venue, settling themselves down on their designated seats as few of them were seen chatting up with each other, smiles decorating their faces. both your families were moving around efficiently, making sure that everything was in order for the ceremony to move smoothly, while you waited in the dressing room, carefully adjusting and making sure that your make up and hair were put together flawlessly. “you nervous?” you heard venetia speak, as you turn your head towards her, smiling. your eyes trailed along the beautifully sewn hem of your gown. “of course i am, i would be lying if i said im not” letting out a soft sigh, your eyes glanced towards her. “how’s farleigh ?” you asked her, before she took both your hands in hers, firmly grabbing onto the palms as she cocked her head to the side, beaming at you. “he’ll be alright” she responded, shortly. “you ready ?” to which you nodded, offering her a quick smile.

the walk from the dressing room to the hall felt like forever, as steps after steps burned memories into your head, everything felt so surreal yet too real at the same time. as you carefully line your walk in the heels with the tail of your gown making it a sport, you began to notice familiar faces sitting at the back row, already beaming at you with their hands cupped against their chests. you offered them a warm smile, desperately using it to hide the all new emotions you were currently feeling. you were now already standing at the end of the aisle, in the middle of everyone, as all eyes were set on you. you tried your best to flash the prettiest smile, like you had practiced for only like since forever. farleigh’s eyes immediately set themselves on you, his eyebrows dropped as his dark orbs began to gloss, a small breath got caught in his throat as it seemed like he had forgotten how to breathe. he was getting lightheaded with how similar you looked with the vision he had of you being his bride. just when he thought you couldn’t get anymore beautiful, you began to walk down with the white veil over your head, fresh flowers neatly grasped in your hands. you looked pure, breathtakingly beautiful in white. it was almost like the angels had lent you their beauty for that exact moment, for you to wear as you slowly step towards the altar.

your eyes met farleigh’s, a knowing look being exchanged between the two of you. you almost laughed at how touched he looked, he would be caught dead first before this to even show that he had deep emotions for someone but for you, he didn’t care. anything for you. all the nervousness suddenly disappeared as you carefully step onto the elevated platform at the end of your slow walk, joining your fiancé before facing each other, huge smile plastered across your faces. all of that ruckus and chaos before your wedding day has led to this moment, as you take it all in that it was finally happening.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the love of these two as they come together in marriage.” the officiant started right as the two of you were ready. after exchanging rings, he started his vows first, which almost made you cry but happiness flooded through the feeling.

“…I promise to cherish you always, to honor and sustain you, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to you in all things until death alone shall part us.” as you finish your vow, you could feel your feet starting to perform little jumps of excitement. turning your head towards the officiant, he could see that you were already getting impatient. smiling to himself, he looked over to the crowd before saying the magic words

“By the power vested in me by the state, I now pronounce you husband and wife !” you almost squeak before leaning over to kiss your now husband, gently pressing your lips over his soft ones, your cold fingers cupping his cheeks as a roar of applause filled the hall. the crowd stood up to cheer, bright smiles complimenting the decorations in the hall.

it was exactly like you imagined, except this time it wasn’t farleigh that you were kissing.

as farleigh clapped for the both of you from his seat, he couldn’t help the proud smile pushing itself to form on his lips, as his eyes begin to water. he immediately reached up to wipe them off quickly, yet obvious tint of red could still be seen if one were to examine his face closely. but he wasn’t worried of that happening, because he wasn’t the main subject of today’s ceremony, no. he was just happy to be here, cheering for you and your husband. he would be lying if he didn’t think about how it would be if it was him instead on the altar, kissing you away from all the doubts that he had put you through over the last few years of your relationship. he knew that you and him, the two of you were supposed to be endgame. it was supposed to be him, slipping the ring onto your finger, before kissing over them. he knew all that, yet nothing could win over a fight with his own issues, nothing could beat his own mind in a game called love. he wanted to give up on love long ago but you showed him the bright end of the tunnel, and he will always be grateful for that. for now, he would have to make peace with the fact that you’re no longer his, and he no longer has a place in your heart. it’s not like he doesn’t want all of this, he really does. hell, he had thought about this exact day countless times when you were his, just that he imagined it to be him who will get to say his vows on how he was gonna love you till death do the both of you apart. everything else was pretty much just how he had imagined it to be, especially how beautiful you looked.

the two of you had promised that the relationship had to end with marriage, and that after graduation nothing was gonna change. but promises are meant to broken aren’t they ? he changed, a lot. you did too. farleigh struggled with himself after graduation, with the fact that he didn’t have anything left in the uk, him being done with oxford left him no reason to keep staying with the cattons. he didn’t want to leave, he begged for sir james to keep letting him stay, saying that he would do anything with the best he had, building a career over the estates in saltburn, anything. anything just for him to able to stay here, with you. he was afraid that if he left, everything will be different and he’d lose you. so he worked, really hard. struggling to make his own money to put them into his own little apartment. little did he know, he lost himself in the process, along with what he had with you. warm embraces and chuckles after laughters turned into hurtful arguments. your usual warm spot on his bed turned cold, as your dent on his mattress slowly disappeared. it’s not like you didn’t fight for him, you truly did. but you realised that what the two of you had, was only nice while it lasted. and you struggled to make peace with that, but not as much as he was. you were everything to him, and losing you just meant losing himself.

when you told him that you were getting married, he looked really happy, as he pulled you in a tight hug. it felt safe, and you could feel that he was genuinely happy for you. you’re glad that after all, you were still able to be close with him, only now as friends. he was happy to receive the wedding invitation, having set it up on his empty kitchen table so he wouldn’t miss it for the world. he still loved you, so much as he wouldn’t want to miss watching you on your happiest day, even if it wasn’t because of him. even if it wasn’t with him. seeing you happy was enough for him. knowing that you were happy, he forced himself to accept that fate couldn’t be rewritten. how he wished it is, because then he would get to write your name in his stars again and again, and again. as many times as he could as long as in the end, you’d end up in his arms.

as the getaway car began to roll its wheels, he looked at you flashing the prettiest smile ever, waving at him. he returned the smile, masking in the reasoned melancholy down his chest. the car started to drive away slowly before his smile slowly pressed itself away against his lips. it has now turned to a smile knowing that he once had you, and he would forever cherish that. the crowd began to dissipate, some gradually walking away to leave, some getting back inside to continue their chats, some even talking about how gorgeous of a wedding it was, and that they were happy for you and your husband. farleigh stepped down the stairs to a gravely ground, his leather shoes digging into the coarse pebbles as he leaned back onto the stone post at the end of the stairs, his hand reaching into the pocket of his slacks. noticing someone approaching his spot, he glanced to the person to see felix, his hands tucked into his pockets before he reached out, asking for a stick from farleigh. he lit the cigarette in his fingers before reaching over, cupping his hand over the flame to lit felix’s.

puffing his first drag, farleigh chuckled at felix at the situation. “how you holding up ?” he heard felix ask, his light brown hair flipping over as the soft wind grazed their skin. farleigh tilted his head down, quietly playing with the pebbles with the tip of his shoes with a burning cigarette dancing between his fingers. “i’m gonna be okay” nodding, he assured felix. “that’s good” he chirped back, he knew how bad farleigh was hurting, but he also knew that his cousin would be caught dead first before showing deep emotions to anyone. felix were also sure that the two of you were really gonna end up together. it was only right to him. he wasn’t sure about what happened, but he could feel how bad the pain was violently ripping farleigh apart. he could only pray that it gets easier, as he didn’t want to lose him too.

“i know you loved her mate” felix started

“i still do” farleigh responded, his head hanging low

“-just differently now”

shaking the burned bits of the cigarette from his fingers, ashes falling down onto the ground as they both sat in silence, quietly enjoying the gentle breeze of the wind, blowing away all of farleigh’s hope for you.

taglist: @farleighlover @r4vn @love-me-pls @radioloom @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @luckystrikerealness @juniperhasfallen @themoonchildwhofell @khxna @fuckshitslover @szapizzapanda

[leclerced]

Lando givesaq his girl a plush toy on one of their first dates. He wins it for her or just buys it from a local shop with souvenirs and she’s absolutely obsessed with the little toy. She has it in her bed every night and cares for it as if it’s was definitely more valuable than it is in the eyes of other people. After some time of dating and going back and forth they decide to move in tighter so she ofc takes the plushie with her and when Lando sees it he’s like “why did you keep it? It’s years old and not even pretty” but she tells him that she loves it and has loved it since he gave it to her. When he was away she’d hug the toy and think about him, maybe even she stole his perfume one time and sprayed the toy so it would also smell like him. And suddenly Lando gets emotional because it was such a small thing and it meant the world to her. He asks if she kept anything else and she laughs and tells him that she has everything that he gave her throughout the relationship. Every note, every box, every ribbon even. She shows it to him and tells him from where and when the item came from

lowkey thats so me tbh i have adhd real bad and will keep things for years. i have a pencil with a brain eraser on it that i got nearly ten years ago. ive never sharpened the pencil or used the eraser. its purely for the vibes. a guy gave me a circuit board that he made for a car and i kept it for like 4 years.

they go to a local carnival and he wins it for her !! he completely forgets about it because it’s just a teddy bear from their first date, and he knocks it out of her hand and it falls in a puddle so he tells her she can toss it. then they’re moving in, she’s doing all the decorating while he unboxes the big things and arranges furniture. he goes to their bedroom while she’s unpacking those boxes and sees it on their bed and asks, “okay i hope this isn’t weird but does your childhood stuffed animal have to stay on the bed we have sex in?? it kinda creeps me out.”

she wants to cry because he doesn’t remember and he thinks its creepy. he sees how sad she looks and starts apologizing but she explains that it’s not from her childhood it’s from their first date and he suddenly remembers winning it. and suddenly hes like oh thats so cute oh my god!!!! he falls more in love with her then asks why she kept it bc if he remembers correctly he dropped it in a puddle of mud and told her she could toss it bc its just cheap trash. she tells him she hand washed it as soon as he left and he asks why bc it was their first date? she’s kinda embarrassed but she’s like “i’m just sentimental i guess? i keep everything.” and he’s suddenly worried he’s moved in with a hoarder so he asks what she means by that.

she disappears into their new closet and comes out with a wooden jewelry box, he’d seen it before but never looked inside. she sits on the bed and pats the spot next to her so he takes it and she places the box between them. she starts with the lowest drawers, and it’s an assortment of polaroids they’d taken. he has a few himself, tucked in his wallet and in the visors in his car. the secret few of her in lingerie or naked, or his cock in her, hidden safely away inside his suitcase inside a little locked box. those are his keepsakes. but she has every other one they took, tucked away inside this ordinary jewelry box. the first drawer is completely pg13, but the one next to it… he picks through and takes a few of them himself to take with him when he leaves again. and then the ones above that are full of slips of paper, sticky notes, cards from floral deliveries, any kind of love note he ever gave her is organized inside with dates written on the back in her own handwriting so she’ll have an easy way to keep them organized.

in the drawers above that, every random keychain he’s bought her from each city he’s been to is stored. he noticed she always used the newest ones and assumed she trashed the older ones. above that is full of rings, and then bracelets. the top compartment, he expects necklaces, but it contains cards from every birthday, anniversary, christmas, love letters, post cards from the cities he’s visiting. anything that didn’t fit in the drawers below is squeezed into the upper compartment. she tells him about each one and how she looks through it when he’s been gone for awhile, how she rereads the letters he sent her, reads all the love notes he’d hide around her home. how she’d search for hours on end when she had nothing else to do, hoping to find more, which reminds him to start doing it in their new home.

he’s so surprised by it bc he saved a few things, but she saved every little reminder of his love that he’d ever given her. then she’s getting up and getting another jewelry box and tells him it only contains jewelry because he buys her so much she had to get another, and then she’s telling him which ones are her favorites and he’s noticing patterns in the styles she likes the most, which gems and cuts. he asks her about the clothes he buys her and she admits she didn’t keep all of them, just his or her favorite items, because she didn’t have a lot of space in her old apartment but now that they have a walk in closet, she’ll be keeping just about anything he gifts her, so he better think wisely unless he wants to see her wearing a hideous sweater he jokingly bought he that she loves simply because it’s from him.

instead of being scared she’s a hoarder, he spends hours going through each one trying to guess the year and month he gifted it to her, she’s finding the box of snow globes he buys at souvenir shops, and he’s guessing on those too. he loves how much every gift he gives her matters to her, whether it’s a post it note hidden in the cutlery drawer that just says i love you or a matching set of diamond earrings and necklace.

[redfurrycat]

🤠🍑👨🐓Daddy Klnk Fic Recs🐓👨🍑🤠

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

Ao3 Authors: Acetonitril, Coconutcordiale, Davidbyrne, Dracculaura, Earthangel_44, Emseebeans, Ginnydear, Honestlydarkprincess, Lovelybattle, Mackwinnon, Miiichaaan, Perishablealex, Pizzz_10, Renai_chan, SaintClaire, Sam_Haine, Seresins, Theinsouciantknitter, WaffleToaster, Welcome_to_the_Badlands, WhisperingNights, Xo_em.

I'm a babygirl in a daddy's world > Sugar Daddy

If You Cling Too Tightly Verse by Earthangel_44 {E}

Hold on loosely

There is nothing Jake "Hangman" Seresin can't handle after he shot down the plane to save the day except for maybe one certain pilot with a taste for Hawaiian shirts.

You Might Lose Control

Three months later.

Have a Drink On Me Verse by Welcome_to_the_Badlands {E}

Have a Drink On Me

“Hey,” Mickey slurred slightly. They all look at him, and Reuben switches out his Malibu Sunset for water. “Someone should do body shots,” he said, very unsubtly glancing at Jake.

Hotter Than Hell

Or, the one with the heatwave and the popsicles.

Take My Hand and Hold On Forever by Earthangel_44 {E}

It happens again like clockwork. Every new achievement or award that Jake gets pinned to his chest. Every time he went to Afghanistan or flew with the F-151, Jake calls Bradley. Every COMM he receives or shiny new ribbon that is placed on his chest, Jake called Bradley. Or: Jake gets a lot of awards and Bradley rewards him for his good flying.

Poems About Lovers by xo_em {E}

He’s waiting for his favorite sounds of every day: the click and scrape of the front door opening then closing, a few heavy footsteps, the abrupt thud of a bag hitting the hardwood floor. Two boots following. Bradley.

Daddy Rooster Series by Renai_chan {E}

I Want To Hear You Say It Again by perishablealex {E}

The first time Jake calls Bradley daddy.

can you see me glowing by dracculaura {E}

“You know, you’re awfully moody tonight,” Jake taunts as he looks up into Bradley’s eyes. “Think you’d be in a better mood after cheating — I mean, winning earlier.” “Shut,” Bradley says, voice dipping low and husky, as he moves in even closer to Jake, hands now on the wall on either side of Jake’s face, “your fucking mouth.” “Make me.” (or, jake is a brat who craves bradley's attention)

so baby lock that door by dracculaura {E}

Maybe if Bob wasn’t so exhausted, he’d have remembered that Hangman wasn’t at the bar and it was very likely that he’d be in their room. Maybe if he hadn’t had his music up so loud, he would’ve heard the moaning, the slapping, the banging of a headboard hitting a wall. But he is exhausted, does have his music up too loud. He’s so distracted that he doesn’t even notice them until the door is closed behind him and his music is paused, and when he does, he stops dead in his tracks, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. Because Hangman is getting absolutely fucking railed by Rooster.

Sub Bradley by lovelybattle {E}

Slow

Bradley knelt in front of him, eyes lidded and mouth parted as he stared at where Jake’s fingers moved. His hands were on his thighs, cock poking up prettily, leaking and hard like it has been for the last twenty minutes. He let out a small whimper, blinking slowly, “daddy…”

Patience

Jake hummed, shifting his hips back just enough for his ass to rub against Bradley’s hard dick, earning himself a whimper as he pulled away again and Bradley tried to chase him with his hips. “Ah,” Jake said, laying his hand flat over Bradley’s chest, the other man immediately falling still against the bed sheets again. “Good boy.”

Give it to me daddy by Earthangel_44 {E}

Bradley survives the mission only to find one way to thank his savior.

touch you like I do by ginnydear {E}

Dress up, Princess by miiichaaan {E}

Jake looked at himself in their bathroom mirror, at the way the pink lace of the lingerie set he’d ordered some weeks ago, hugged his pecks, his ass, his cock so perfectly. Fascinated he ran a hand over his torso, feeling the texture, following it down to his crotch, palming himself through the fabric. He quietly smiled to himself when he thought about Bradley.

Love me one time, could not speak by miiichaaan {E}

“Jake,” Bradley breathed and moved again, ghosting his lips along the line of his ear, pushing his dick just this much deeper inside in return, “Say it again.”

As You Need Me To by perishablealex {E}

It begins with three words. No, not I love you. Who's your daddy?

Unwrap Me by Welcome_to_the_Badlands {E}

“Candy cane? Really,” he asked, chuckling. Jake cracked a smile “You know I love a good theme,” he said, winking.

I'll Treat You Sweet by Sam_Haine {E}

He imagines himself in the woman's position, on his knees in some dirty back alley, mouth wide open and taking someone's fat cock down his throat. No. He alters the scenario so that it's Rooster he's on his knees for.

Jealous Bone by Earthangel_44 {E}

Bradley gets jealous over an old squad member of Jake’s.

Be Good For Me by WhisperingNights {E}

If Rooster didn’t want him. Fine. He’d show Rooster what he could have had. The banging sounded again “I’m coming, damn!” Jake slung the door open glaring at Javy. Javy’s mouth was hanging open as he took Jake in. “How the hell did you get in those?” Jake grinned at Javy’s statement. Good. He’d put a lot of work into this.

Take it to the limit one more time by Earthangel_44 {E}

Bradley takes care of Jake for the first time.

But Only If It's With You by theinsouciantknitter {E}

The best way to celebrate surviving the unsurvivable? Sex on a bar pool table, of course.

The Only Hope for Me is You by mackwinnon {E}

“Jake,” Bradley’s voice was gentle, so unlike any other way he’d ever spoken to him, and Jake hated it. He didn’t need Rooster’s fucking pity. He didn’t need anything from anyone, least of all Rooster. Rooster, his rival. Rooster, who thought he was better than Jake. Rooster, who… Who… Rooster, who’d come looking for Jake when no one else had. Fuck. Or: After the mission, Jake disappears. Bradley goes looking for him.

it's not in the way that you hold me from old men in love Series by davidbyrne {E}

jake and bradley discover new things together in middle age

Maybe This Time Is Forever by theinsouciantknitter {E}

Jake hasn’t slept in days. Three days, to be exact. Everytime he closes his eyes he sees an outdated F-14 going down in flames into the ocean.

Say The Word by perishablealex {E}

Bradley leaves instructions for Jake. Jake follows them. - The praise begins to trickle in. “Well done, you’re so beautiful like this.” Preening at the words, Jake squirms, clenching his fingers against the sheets and inhaling shakily. Bradley’s voice is low. Jake can almost feel the brush of his voice against his ear, the ghost of the mustache tickling his lobe. “You know I can’t let you touch yourself yet, baby.”

there's money for the taking (and the happiness we all deserve) by davidbyrne {E}

“So, what, one of the richest dudes in New York wants to be your sugar daddy?” “Kinda?” Jake sits back up, straightening up and turning his body towards Javy. “He doesn’t want like sex or anything. He just needs someone to pretend to date so his uncle and PR team get off his back about his reputation.” Or a sugar daddy au in which jake is a struggling law student, bradley's a billionaire, and they weave a tangled web

Heat of the Moment by theinsouciantknitter {E}

It’s a hundred degrees in Texas, and Bradley finds that he hates it, hates the oppressive air pressing down on him, the humidity making him feel like he’s swimming with every breath he takes. He finds himself wondering, not for the first time, why he decided to come back to the homestead with Jake for their leave. They’re barely even friends, let alone the kind of people who spend their time off together.

What's my worth? by WaffleToaster {E}

Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight… These were the only thoughts that rang through his head. Twenty-nine, thirty. Two breaths. One and two. They weren't friends, they didn't even like each other and whatever they had going between them meant nothing. And then the mission happened.   Or how Bradley and Jake went from hating each other to caring a little too much.

Rivalry On A Learning Curve by SaintClaire {E}

A couple of simple definitions: Rivalry: Competition for the same objective or for superiority in the same field Archnemesis: One who is hostile to or opposes the purposes or interests of another Jake thinks about how best to define whatever the fuck it is he's got going on with Bradley. Yep. Definitely the above.

The Only Exception by mackwinnon {E}

Organized crime AU. Escort Jake meets Bradley in a club while he's with another client. Bradley's instantly intrigued and makes Jake an offer he can't refuse. It's just business. Until it isn't.

Darkness on the Edge by theinsouciantknitter {E}

There's always room for firsts in a relationship, and this one's full of them.

Priest 'verse by theinsouciantknitter {E}

One Look From You (And I Would Fall From Grace)

Jake didn’t expect this when he moved in with his grandmother. He expected to be roped into attending church with her, that’s all fine and dandy. He didn’t expect that the priest would look like that, though. He didn’t expect that he would be funny, and quick-witted. He didn’t expect him to be that young. He didn’t expect to fall in love with him.

Like a Little Prayer

Bradley has a difficult decision

Before This River Becomes an Ocean

Conversations must be had, and this is one Jake wants to avoid.

It Goes Like This (the Fourth, the Fifth)

Jake just has to get through the planning of the wedding, and then they're home free.

the Minor Fall, the Major Lift

A steadfast resolution

if you're looking for absolution (well get on your knees) by seresins {E}

Jake comes home to Texas for the summer, where he meets his church's new priest. Tempting him feels like the best kind of bad idea.

take you like a drug by coconutcordiale {E}

Murder. Jake is ready to commit murder. It’s fine. He’s a lawyer, he can represent himself in court. Because he just fell asleep. Yet here Jake is, staring at the atrocious popcorn ceiling in his bedroom, jerked awake mere minutes ago by the shrill moans of some undoubtedly gorgeous brunette and the repetitive banging of his neighbor’s headboard against the wall that he shares with Jake. * aka the neighbors au

Fucked up and pretty by pizzz_10 {E}

There’s a reason why jake is always getting under bradley’s skin, he just wants some attention.

chat with you, baby (flirt a little maybe) by acetonitril {E}

"Come on, give me a little more to work with here. How are you doing? What are you doing? Who are you doing?" The last thing, he says in a teasing tone and Bradley reacts without a second thought. “I don’t want to talk about my sex life with you, Hangman.” “And yet that’s the one thing you chose to comment on." Bradley, Jake, and accidental phone sex.

 unglued (thanks to you) by emseebeans {E}

The first time Jake says it, it’s an accident. It’s Bradley’s fault, really. It’d always been a secret Jake held onto so tight, but Bradley brings it bubbling to the surface. He pulls Jake into his orbit. He’s smooth. He’s overly sure of himself. He’ll appear to be completely uninterested one minute, to looking like he wants to devour Jake the next. And he has soft edges. He’ll say the filthiest shit in bed, and then call Jake his baby, his sweetheart. It’s no wonder the word slips out.

hits like ecstasy (comes up and bangs the sense out of me) by davidbyrne {E}

It’s a plug. Slenderer than the few they have in their collection, and a deep green. Jake opens his mouth to say something, but Bradley holds up a finger. Jake shuts his mouth. The plug starts vibrating in his palm, slow, steady pulses that build. Jake sucks in a breath.

all in by honestlydarkprincess {E}

If you had told Rooster a week ago that he would be stumbling into his base housing with Hangman, making out against every surface Rooster could push him into, he would have called you a liar. As it was, he still couldn’t quite believe this was happening, even though Hangman’s tongue was currently in his mouth. Or, the one where Hangman and Rooster hook up and Hangman slips up, admitting his daddy kink. Rooster goes all in.

[hughiecampbelle]

Pedigree (Thomas Shelby Oneshot)

Character/s: Thomas

Word Count: 1,211

A/N: Has it been a million bajillion kajillion years since I've written? Yes. Do I feel good about this? Yes strangely enough :P I've been reading a lot, so maybe that's helped. I haven't been feeling good lately, but this makes me feel better. It makes me think I haven't run out of words, that I'm not trapped in this block forever y'know? 💞  Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

FIC MASTERLISTS / TAG LIST 

You were out for blood. 

You wanted his head on a silver platter. Served to you. You wanted his mouth hung open, gory and gummy, his teeth pried from their sockets. You wanted his eyes, those eyes that bore so deeply into your marrow, eyes that undermined you every time he saw you, bright and cruel. Mocking. Pried wide open, watching his empire fall. The rest of him scattered. Discarded. Did it really matter? It used to. You used to fantasize about the day they brought him to you. All the ways you’d tear him apart, butcher him like he has done to so many. Leaving a single bullet hole, if he was lucky. Often, he wasn’t, not in your care. You wanted him to suffer the same way he has made you your entire life. Since then, you’ve come to a realization: those fantasies, with their theatrics, were childish. The kind of thing he himself would laugh at, call adorable, naive, cute. That laugh. It haunted you now. His head, his eyes, teeth, that is what you needed. He was all bark and no bite. Until then, you wouldn’t be satisfied. 

Once upon a time you worshiped him. He was your world, everything you wanted to be. Demanding, diplomatic, daunting. You wanted to follow in his footsteps, to rule with an iron fist. You did as you were told without a second thought, his toy soldier. You stitched a smile across your face every time he spoke to you, the anger and disappointment reigning in his voice, his words. How sharp they used to be, slicing you to ribbons. You’d be bleeding, hemorrhaging out on the floor by the time his speech was done. And when he was, when the air was thick with dismay, you collected your innards and thanked him, slipping back into the shadows until you were needed again. He spat insults at you from the time you could understand them. A few times you’d dodged a glass of something toxic, smashing into the wall behind you. Shards glittered across the floor, crackling beneath the soles of your shoes. It was your job to clean it up. It was your fault. Everything was. When a scapegoat was necessary, you were the first to come to mind. Given odd jobs beneath the rest. Ones that could have gotten you killed. Should have. Sometimes, you wished it had. Would that have made him care? Mourn your loss? Would there have been any change to his temperament? Probably not. There were always others desperate enough to slink their way into your position, the lowest of the low. Desperate enough to get close to him, to know what liquor he liked, what car he drove, what clothing he wore in hopes that it would rub off on them. Give them the same power. It made you sick. 

To him, you were nothing. Worthless. Incapable. There had never been a softness for you the way there had been for the others. You’d begun to think it was you. There was something wrong with you. Had you said something? Done something? Too many nights you lay awake, wondering what he could see that you couldn’t. There had to be a logical reason, hadn’t there? There had to be something in your flesh, your bones, your muscles. Something structurally, genetically, impossibly wrong. A speck in your eyes. An eyelash out of sorts. A freckle, a scar, a mark on your body that shouldn’t be there. Years you spent looking, watching, waiting for it to be explained so you could fix it and finally win him over. Small acts of kindness. Leaving him freshly picked flowers. Doing everything he said. Being well behaved. You stayed to yourself mostly, understanding things were different than before. He’d changed. They all had. He was monstrous. Hungry. Tormented. Every night you’d hear his screaming, crying out, crumbling from the inside out. In the morning, no one said a word. It’s been many years since then. You wondered if it was your memory distorting things, changing your own behaviors. No, no you were sure you’d been nothing but kind.

Whoever Tommy saw when he looked at you, whatever he saw, was not you. That much was clear. 

He blamed you for her death, Pol. He put that target on your back, on your chest, between your fucking eyes. The silence was the worst of it. The berating, the anger, the destruction, you’d grown used to it. It had become a dance, in a way. You knew all the right steps, all the best apologies, until he’d finally calmed down long enough for you to catch your breath, to straighten out the mess. Not this time. You were dropped from the family without a second thought. Ice ran through his veins. He wasn’t just changed, he was unrecognizable. Your throat was raw from pleading, sobbing, trying to get him to listen. To understand. On your hands and knees begging. You had no part in this, you were being framed. No one could believe you. You’d slipped up, gave out information you shouldn’t have. Thats the conclusion they came to. He didn’t just ignore you, he killed you. Murdered you. Everyone, everyone you ever loved, all the people you considered family, by blood and not, turned their backs on you. You wanted to pound your fists into the floorboards until they bled. You wanted to scream and cry and throw a tantrum. You would have prayed to a God that had never listened before that very moment if that meant he would give you a minute to defend yourself, proclaim your innocence, save your soul. The decision had been made, there was no going back. The Shelby name no longer belonged to you. It never would. If only you’d known how fast that title could be ripped from you. 

They moved on. None of them have reached out, spoken to you in secret. There were no letters, no calls, nothing. You grew a hard shell. Learned to adapt. To be on you own, completely alone. Without them, without him, you came to realize you were never the problem. You had never done anything wrong. You had not been born with a defect only he could sense. You were a child when he’d come back, so young, so fragile. You took his words to heart. All those years spent at the bottom, the youngest of the family, had taught you more than you ever thought. People believed him to be bulletproof. He was indestructible. Godly. You knew though, you knew the weakest parts of him. What kept him up at night. What drove him mad. You couldn’t get back all that time, all those years, your entire life. You couldn’t turn back the clock. You couldn’t make him change his ways. Those, he was too set in, a creature of habit. But you could make him pay. You could make him regret everything he’d ever said and done to you. Make him beg like you’d done countless times, your pleas ignored, berated. You could make him fear for his life. And when the time came, because it always would, you would not hesitate to pull the trigger the same way your brother had.

[dr-lizortecho]

Better Than Frozen Moe’s

He’d saved every cent for months for this moment. Done menial tasks for all the elderly ladies in the neighborhood and polished his mom’s fancy silverware. All so he could take out Liz Ortecho.

It was a flawless plan. Save up every quarter he earned until he had ten whole dollars, then he could take her for celebratory ice cream. She could even get sprinkles if she wanted.

Max’s mom never let him and Isobel get sprinkles. A waste, she’d call them, needless sugar.

But they were beautiful and cheerful, just like Liz. And he wanted to make sure she knew she deserved them, if she wanted them that was. Max knew he still had a lot to learn about this world, a lot to catch up on. But one thing he was certain of was that Liz Ortecho only did as she pleased.

She was eight -eight and three fourths as she would say- and already challenged most adults. By challenge Max meant their eyes twitched when she went on her tirades and they called her gifted and special in the same sentence. They weren’t wrong, but he never liked their tone of voice. The accusation leveled at her. The way it seemed she had to bite down in her tongue or hide her natural mannerisms to earn their approval.

But she didn’t have to change for Max. He loved it- her loudness, her spirit, her quiet. Every piece of her was built out of beauty.

Max’s palms are sweaty as he approaches Liz after the event. Her bright blue ribbon with a gold one printed on it pinned to her shoulder. She’s wearing her Sunday best, a sensible black dress with a white collar and sleeves. Her smile is wide and bright as she talks with her papi. He’s beaming, camera held tight in his hand as he congratulated her on her win.

Liz Ortecho always got first place. If it was an endeavor she chose to pursue, she would roll up her sleeves and be the very best at it.

Max adjusts his collar, his plaid button up feeling itchy and suffocating. Liz’s brown eyes are scanning the crowd, searching. There’s a sadness to them that Max wants to erase.

“Max!” She beams, eyes lighting up excitedly.

“Liz,” he manages, wiping his palms on his jeans.

Arturo grins, a sparkle in his eye. “Mija, I’m going to pre-order a recording of the competition. You have fun with your friend, huh?”

read on ao3

[dmmdconfessions]

[Image text: I’ll be honest here, I was so hyperfixated on the idea of an Aoba/Madoka crossover (Madoka Kaname from Puella Magi Madoka Magica), being both like siblings.]

[Full text: I’ll be honest here, I was so hyperfixated on the idea of an Aoba/Madoka Kaname (from Puella Magi Madoka Magica) crossover being both like siblings (like the entire whole older brother shtick where he has like a clumsy, insecure younger sister who’s secretly a girlboss deep down, who literally turned into a god in the Rebellion film).

Plus, their colour palettes/designs, schemes and all are adjacent to the Gumball/Anais (from The Amazing World of Gumball) colour palette scheme, meaning they would resemble them a bit. Their interactions would be really sweet together as I know Aoba would have this small, pink-haired fluffball of hope consistently follow him everywhere Aoba goes, and would try to get him to as he goes to Junk Shop Heibon to complete his daily working shift while Madoka just goes to school like an ordinary schoolgirl just the way she is.

Aoba sometimes comes home and buys Madoka a lesbian flag she can hang up on her wall, and makes dinner for her a lot. She introduces her girlfriend Homura to Aoba and he’s like “aww, that’s sweet.” I feel like he’d grow accustomed and fond to her, and I feel like he’d grow an ever-loving desire to protect her from falling into despair so much so that she turns into a witch.

One of the funniest things I can imagine Aoba doing is having one of his alters (Sly Blue for example), fronting and then she gets a call from him and he takes her on a little ride while Madoka brings Homura, her beloved, with her to the retail park that is extremely far away from both of their locations. He then lets them play on one of those Beatmania arcades, and he goes to the cigarette bar to get a quick smoke and to accompany his younger sister and his girlfriend, and they both win so much on the Pop'n Music arcades while they start to finish off and get ready for the bowling venues.

Sly sits on one of these chairs and watches his younger sister Madoka and her girlfriend go off at these bowls, and claps and cheers when Madoka manages to succeed at taking one of these bowling pins all in one go. And after that, Sly fronts back to Aoba, the main host of the system, and then he calls back for them to come back so they can go in there to explore the garden, town pebble streets and more amusement parks for their own excitement, so they can have pretty picture taking time.

I can imagine Aoba loving Madoka like he’s his own daughter and doing Madoka’s hairstyles every morning like crazy while on the phone trying to listen some deals that Haga-san made to him, putting small ribbon hair clips in Madoka’s hair, and making her breakfast and making sure she’s at least well fed and happy.

I want her to be happy after the shit she has gone through. My precious baby daughter. My daughter, she didn’t deserve all of this, she deserves to be all happy and to be all pain and trauma free. It’s not a matter of comparing “yaoi vs yuri” of which series is pure or fucked up or whatever. I’m not simply here to compare them. I’m here to illustrate my point cohesively that Madoka would view this mentally ill skinny 23 year old gay boy who has had a never had a good day ever in his life, and she would go “I’m going to view that man as my older brother. He seems nice.” and tries to hang around with him to try to get more information from this gay boy who has a shit ton of unresolved BPD that would end up with him being sent to a mental asylum. It’s about the potential, it’s about the silly sibling shenanigans of Madoka trying to wake her older brother up so he can take her to school. It’s him seeing that she is going down a dark path full of magical girls. Whatever. I am so mentally ill about them. Madoka Magica changed my brain fundamentally and mentally and I needed to thus propose this like crossover even further because I want to say it out loud.]

[muffindaddystyles]

Can you write overprotective long hair harry imagine?? Like he always hovers the reader when she is doing something or even nothing. Or when she needs to run errands he always go with even though its not required. And when reader fell sick he is full on mommy daddy mode dom!h vibes

A/N: OOPS I GOT EXCITED AND WENT OVERBOARD WITH IT :D

Harry’s awfully sweet. He’s a literal sweetheart with those marble sepia eyes, hazelnut curls and that big golden kind heart of his's.

But, to people he’s intimidating. From the black loiter of tattoos, a silver of piercing to the corner of his plush bottom lip and those long curls of his's that frays his broad strong shoulders turns everyone too giddy to talk to him and he's okay with that – bunch of loosers anyways whom he doesn’t want to waste his time on chit-chatting.

Then Y/N came into his life and his world flipped upside down, in a beautiful way (where he felt like floating into the crashing waves of crystal sea). It felt like she made him see the world through pink heart-shaped glasses and everyone’s just bursting into rainbows, puffaw! Boom! Their heads blasting with colourful confetti and ribbons.

Even though his slight grouchiness towards people lessened he still doesn’t gives two fucks before punching the shit out of someone if they in any way hurts, be rude and try to take physical and emotional advantage of, Y/N.

His bunny.

He’s too protective of her. And why wouldn’t he? She’s his everything. His little miracle and his hype-person, his lovie.

He’s the softest peach for her. The guy who walks and everyone scrambles away to give him a way, is whipped for his girlfriend.

He’s always having his strong arm looped around her waist when they’re out and walking, going to hold her hands instead if she’s too wiggly, keeping her close to his chest while he holds their coffees and sweets.

Whenever they’re doing grocery he’s always wheeling the cart around how much Y/N insists and pouts, he likes it that way. Hearing her blabber and skim her eyes down the ingredients labelled on the products then tossing it anyway with a shrug – makes him want to smooch her wet in kisses.

If they’re partying out with friends. Which they rarely do, (Y/N sometimes makes fun of them saying they’re getting too domestic day by day) he’s always having her put in his lap, his screwed up expression lazing when the alcohol starts to kick in and he’s just a blubbering mess of nonsense, and a very horn dog with his cock bloating up in his tight skinny jeans.

Not that he doesn’t let her have a breather and enjoy herself. He indeed does, they’ve a healthy relationship where they keep trust and faith in eachother.

But, sometimes he gets super jealous when people steal his little girlfriend away from him and once home he’s cuddling and oodling her, kissing her face all over with loud smacks and not letting her be away from him another second even it’s too bring him water or to get rid of his smelly socks.

Other times. When he’s particularly very jealous. The serious ones where Y/N unintentionally spends a tad more time at some of her classmates to wind up their upcoming project, he’s driving himself to pick her up and knocking at the door harshly and then dragging her out of there not letting her carry her stuff and huffing and puffing while throwing her things in the backseat.

Because Jeremy’s a sore rascal who’s shit at hiding his crush for Y/N and he should know better to whom she belongs. His innocent baby is too naive towards the possible hints and evil intentions of people.

“Oi. What got into you today?” She brushes the loose curl that escaped from his bun and let her fingers slide down his tight set angry jaw staring him a bit concerned upon seeing him this furious and ruffled up from nowhere.

“You’re mine,” Is all he'd respond. Smashing his lips against hers in a an ardent kiss and glide his palm down her ass to squeeze it and bring her closer grinning when she squeals into his mouth giving him a chance to slip his tongue in and kiss her deeper and sloppier.

“You’re a silly geese.” She giggles whisper into the mess of pecks and lock her elbows around his neck to give him an eskimo kiss.

“Watch y’mouth.” He glares her intensely loving the way Y/N gulps timidly bobbing her head.

“You’ll get a spanking today,” He always likes to warn her before hand. He wants her comfortable with him in every case and it’s downgrade monstrous to treat the person you love like a mean bitch out of blue -- so whenever she deserves a punishment he already announces her of it, warming her to the idea and giving her time to back away if she doesn’t want it.

“What did I’do now!” She whines and he nibbles onto his knuckle glancing her way in disbelief other hand on steering wheel, “What did y'do?” He asks her sternly. Spreading his palm over her thigh and squeezing it grimly.

“Did y'even care to look at the time, Y/N?” Oh boy. She’s in real trouble. Her name on his tongue never fails to turn her insides gooey and pause her heartbeat horribly. A red light for her to being bratty before she falls into the deep black dig of trouble.

Reaching home. He’s throwing her on the bed and demanding her to lay still on her tummy while he puts a pillow under her and spanks her bum sore with his rings imprinting her skin pink, though he never forgets to take care of her afterwards – putting a cool cream to soothe the burn and letting her sleep on his chest so she wouldn’t come in contact with the sheets as he kneads her asscheeks with gentle hands.

.

He could never have his hands to himself when she’s cooking and baking for them. Always, poking and prodding around having her head tucked under his chin, her embraced in his arms from back swaying them along to Hozier while she reads the recipe she wrote on one of the tiles.

“Stop!” She giggles, squirming in his arms when he blows raspberries against the dip of her neck and then creates growly noises biting and lapping into her skin, “You’re gonna burn our lunch!” She pressed her hips against his crotch to push him away and that warmed him more, delving his fingers more into her hips with a throaty groan.

“We could have a takeout.” His breath shuddery against her ear as he tries to pry the spatula away from her and kiss her grumpy whines down when the pots actually got burned, “I’ll wash and scratch them.” He’d assure picking her up and wrapping her legs around his hips and slipping his fingers in her hair to tug them and bring her mouth down against his’s to taste her.

“Wants to fuck you so bad, baby. My cock’s been weepy fo’ hours without your touch.” He groans, taking her hand and sneaking it inside his joggers to make her feel how stiff and erect he’s for her.

“I just gave you a blowie in the morning!”

“Blowie isn’t equivalent to fucking!”

.

“What y'readin,?” He scoots closer to her end of sofa with a smirk and towers over her trying to take a peek of whatever she’s reading with such intensity and then rake his warm palms up her calves to lay them over his thighs while he snuggles her wrapping a chonky blanket around them.

“Shhh baby girl, just want you to be more comfy.” He mumbles into her hair scratching his short nails against her scalp in soothing motions and watch her melt against his touch, eyes fluttering as she lurks dangerously to the verge of sleep.

“You always do that. Whenever the hot part’s about to come, you make me all sleepy.” She mutters laying her head against his clavicles gazing him up with hazy eyes, sighing in feign disappointment when he grins down at her in quite victory and gives her a sloppy kiss.

“What do y'need erotica fo’ baby? When your man’s the living walking momentum of sex.” He pouts, grazing his teeth down her neck and leaving a fresh hickey at her throat.

“That’s infact not, true. You’re such a cutie!” She beams up at him never failing to give him dancing butterflies in his stomach and he doesn’t admits it but he likes getting treated soft and gentle by his girlfriend.

“Such a shame. My own little love doesn’t find me sexy.” He grumps dramatically making her scramble hesitantly and turn to him in their tight embrace, cradling his face in her cold palms, “No. No. I find you sexy. I just don’t like sexualising you.” If Harry didn’t turn into a puddle before he indeed did now as he melted into her touch and kissed the inside of her hands lovingly.

“You’re sucha sap!” He whispers at her in fake offence and plant his lips against hers, patting her bum to make her hug him more tightly.

.

On cleaning and laundry day’s. He’s always helping her. As they scrub and mop the floors together, might fuck on them bubbly floors too if Harry’s lusty gaze remains on her spilling tits for too long.

“Thinks your floral bra needs a wash too, moppet.” His gradual attempts to lure her with his fingers stroking her thighs seductively always turns into a win when she nods shyly into his neck and let him have an easy access to her panties.

They’re always having a warm, full of essence bath together cleaning and washing the dirt off eachother after that.

Then sharing a cuppa tea while folding their clothes together on the bed and he’s always trying to tackle her into mattress when she laughs at his terribly folded clothes compared to her neatly binded ones.

“Your sucha menace,” He jests with his nose skewered up while he smacks her ass.

“Talk for yourself, Styles.” She retorts, tangling her knee around his waist and pulling him down into him. Puffing out relaxed breaths upon feeling safe and protected under his weight and Harry always smiles into the crook of her neck when she tries to cuddle him as if she wants to be his skin.

..

He’s the most daddiest when she’s drunk, sick or stressed.

Never letting her go out of his sight when she’s dancing on the floor with her friends. If some man even tries to approach her and breaths in her direction he’s sprinting towards her and pawing at her hips to situate her closer to him whilst blowing those potential guys off with a monotone expression.

“Harry! Do a lil dancey dance with me!” She giggles, making him sway with her and looking up at him with glassy floaty eyes.

“Bunny. ‘s late, time to go home.” He tells her, pinching her chin to plant his lips against hers and she squirms giving him a timid smile, “Okie. But I’ve to pee.”

“Me too!” Her friends chimes from behind her and Harry rolls his eyes playfully, gesturing all of them to follow him.

“C’mon you spies, not lettin’ ya’ll go alone.”

He waits for them outside the washroom while they do their business and he has his arms always splayed open for when his lovie comes back and he’s welcoming her in his embrace warmly with a sweet smile.

Dying with fond injecting in his every vein when she slurs and blabbers, “Home.”

Walking her up the stairs of their flat’s building is the most hefty struggle while she’s a sleepy, clumsy and giggly muck of doe gleaming eyes and swollen pretty lips drooling over Harry testing his patience while he makes her take one step at a time.

“Darling, bunny, just some mo' steps lovin’.” He coos at her, putting a firm hand under her bum and heaving her up into him so she doesn’t falls.

“Mhmmm you’re so pretty, daddy.” Harry’s head snaps in surprise as he stares down at her in adoring amusement and push her head under his chin while she slings her arms around his waist lazily.

Sometimes, she gets him so flustered he doesn’t know how to respond.

She whines and cries in dishevelment when Harry makes her sit on the cold marble counter and wipes her makeup off.

“I just wan’ to sleep!” She toes at his torso trying to push him away but he grabs it and tuts, glowering at her strictly, “You’re g'na complain in the mornin’. Sleepin’ with makeup makes ye' breakout remember?” When she still huffs and slumps giving him a hard time to clean her he’s pinching her chin and giving her a gentle jerk.

“Bunny. Stop with ye' battiness.” He grunts not letting his facade slip when she mewls stroking her cheek up and down his lightly stubble covered cheek softly.

“Else what? Y'never punish a sleepy bunny.” She smirks at him foppishly and lazily knowing damn well that one of thing Harry doesn’t do’s tease or punish her when she’s tuckered out and on the edge of sleeping on him.

“You don’t test me bratty woman.” She squeals when he takes hold of her panties to pull them down her legs, slapping her mound once discarding it in the hamper and he sighs when she’s already snoring lightly, slobbering his throat with her mouth parted comically.

After pattering her face with loving kisses he’s tucking her under the layers of blankets and letting her use him as her stuffie.

..

“Aw poor baby.” He mumbles, kissing her forehead when he finds her burning up against him and he’s quickly rummaging for thermometer from the night stand and the tissues he had stashed for emergencies.

“I don’t feel good,” His heart breaks when Y/N croaks out weakly and tries to crawl up his chest to stuff her face in his musky neck but her frail limbs gives out making her cry out.

“It’s okay bunny, ‘s okay. How but I make you some soup. Then y'take your medicines like a good girl of mine, then if your condition gets worse we’ll go to doctor, yeah baby?” He talks to her gently and sweetly, stroking her hair and peppering kisses to her temples.

“Just last bite, moppet.” Harry hovers the spoon infront of her and sighs when she shakes her head pushing his wrist away, “I’ll puke.” She sniffs blowing her nose harshly in the tissue .

“The bin’s right here, bunny.” He smoothens his hand down her spine putting the tray aside carefully to snuggle and comfort her as she cries softly against his chest.

“’M so sorry baby, you’ll be alright in the morning.” He couldn’t see her in such condition. It pulls and tugs at his heart so painfully he feels himself hurting.

“Oi. Why you crying, hmm?” He cups her cheek and makes her look at him as she skims her eyes away from him jn embarrassment.

“I —- You’re so caring and loving, treats me so good and it makes me c.. cr–-,” She hiccups finding it hard to breath and Harry rubs her back, whispering affinities in her ear making her finally sob, “Cry....” He chuckles softly pelting kisses upon kisses on her puffy eyelids, soaky dried up cheeks, her frowned up forehead, her wobbly chin and her nipping love bites down her chest then blowing raspberries at his own slick covering her skin making her giggle through her hiccups.

“I love you.” She whispers droopily, head lulling to his chest when the effect of medicine finally starts to kick in.

“I love you too, I want my healthy and happy bunny back.” He mumbles, inhaling a huge puff of her scent and squishes her lovingly.

[rabbitcrimes]

WANGXIAN FIC REC: Little Miss Horror Show

Fics that feature yiling laozu delights and demonic cultivation related horror elements

🌟 No night as deep as my night by Orange_crushed - 17k Summary: Wangji shuts his eyes and rocks A-Yuan and thinks about Wei Ying, Wei Ying. The sound of his laugh; the rage in his eyes at any cruelty, no matter how small. Water running down his face, mixed with tears and mud in the rain. The smell of his sweat and his combing-oil when he stood too close in the cold spring. His face when he’d said, I’ll carry you, too many years ago. If there is anything left of him, Wangji will still love it. It’s not even a question.

When he opens his eyes all the candles in the room sputter at once, and go out.

And then they come back again, as easily as they were extinguished. Wangji looks up, to find a tall shadow in the doorway.

Wangji is not afraid.

“Wei Ying,” he says. “Come in.”

🌟 the necromancer's fairytale by Iliacquer - 17k Summary: The Prince of Gusu is kidnapped for ransom. He’s saved by a nightmare made flesh.

Or: A necromancer, his palace of bones, his long-lost husband, and the rise of their dark kingdom.

🌟 rare the man who'll hold to faith by Fahye - 13k Summary: There was no blood. No char. There was nothing to see except the strange softening of the Yiling Patriarch's mouth, as if just for a moment he was another person entirely.

"There is the mark of our bargain, and here is the challenge," said the Yiling Patriarch. "You may strike at me, exactly once, with your sword. I will not fight back; I will not resist you at all, Hanguang-jun." That silvery suggestiveness crept into his voice again. "And a year and a day from now, you will come to me and I will deliver exactly the same to you."

Lan Wangji heard his brother's voice raised in sharp and incomprehensible protest. His own heart was beating too loudly for him to hear anything else.

🌟 addition recs under the cut 🌟

🌟 Howling by MimiSpearmint - 40k Summary: “Sizhui, go to the kitchen,” the Yiling Patriarch orders. His charge – Sizhui, Lan Wangji presumes – hesitates but obeys, looking back over his shoulder as he disappears. Apprentice out of the blast zone, the Patriarch storms up to Lan Wangji, eyes flashing red. “Three words: I. Am. Retired.”

Lan Wangji is sent by the Institute to do two things: become the Yiling Patriarch's familiar, and report back his every movement. It does not go how any of them planned.

🌟 my chain hits my chest / when im bangin' on the radio by x_los 2k Summary: Lan Wangji finds he doesn't even need to call for help for Wei Wuxian to come running.

help is on the way by vamillepuddling - 15k Summary: “There,” the Yiling Patriarch says. “Now all that’s missing is a throne. Would you like one?”

“I have no interest in ruling,” Lan Wangji says.

“What is it that holds Hanguang-jun’s interest, then?”

Lan Wangji presses his lips together, unwilling to meet the Yiling Patriarch’s gaze.

(The Yiling Patriarch wins. Lan Wangji is left behind on the fields of the dead and appoints himself a task.)

love what's burning right in front of you by seularen - 10k Summary: It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. There was only saving Lan Wangji, and what he was willing to do to accomplish that.

Or: someone tries to assassinate Hanguang-jun. The Yiling Laozu comes calling. tie a knife with a ribbon by iliacquer - 5k Summary: The Yiling Patriarch makes a bargain with the cultivation world. He'll give them the power to defeat Wen Ruohan. No more death. No more war.

All he wants in return is Lan Wangji.

better things to do with a flute during wartime by Anonymous - 365k Summary: Wei Wuxian stabs somebody with his flute. Nie Mingjue tries to fix things with his dick. Lan Wangji pines in a non-communicative fashion.

Or: in the fourth month of the Sunshot Campaign, Nie Mingjue notices that Wei Wuxian is showing symptoms of imminent qi deviation. He takes steps to try to mitigate the fallout—and the course of the war changes, first slowly, then much less slowly... Notes: this one is NMJ/WWX/LWJ

Once upon a midnight dreary by vamillepuddling - 15k

Summary: On the joyous occasion of the second Lan heir's birth celebration, a terrible shadow falls when the Yiling Patriarch arrives, much displeased that he wasn't invited. 20 years later, Lan Wangji learns the terrible price he extracted, and knows that he has only three weeks of freedom left until he meets the man again.

*

“Compensation,” the Yiling Patriarch echoes. “I like the sound of that. What will you give me? Gold? Jewels? Weapons?”

“Name your prize,” Lan Qiren repeats.

The Yiling Patriarch smiles again. He says, “Your nephew will do.”

when I look over my shoulder by cafecliche - 10k Summary: When you let the dead in, it takes a toll on you. There hasn’t been a single exception in history.

(Or: second heir to the renowned Lan exorcist clan Lan Zhan takes medium Wei Ying home after a difficult exorcism. He's in for a long night.)

This Tornado Loves You by feelsforbreakfast - 8k Summary: Hanguang-jun is dating a mild mannered, non-cultivator named Wei Wuxian. The Yiling Laozu rolls up to a nighthunt on a motorbike, no relation at all to the previous statement.

[softliebgott]

— scottie dog

about: hello my friend 🤗 can i request "i got you something! i remember you mentioning it before...i hope you like it" with martin? THANK YOUUUUU❤️❤️ — @tvserie-s-world

warnings: i’m a lil rusty 🥹, gn!reader, war angst

word count: 683

aldbourne, england

chalk hills, rolling like an unsettled ocean, hugged the idyllic wiltshire village. enthralled, webster said he thought he’d passed out on a hollywood movie set, but england wasn’t for everyone.

along the village street you sat on a stone wall, watching jeeps pass, soldiers eating lardy cakes, carving into trees with their bayonet knives, and knocking on locals’ doors asking if their pants could be washed. dick winters walked down toward the field in his dress uniform, brasses shining.

you didn’t like being so far from home. every time you remembered how far, you shocked your own body, mere thoughts being thousands of volts. innards trembling, and warmth unable to grab hold of you, you tormented yourself with how aware you were. the world was at war. who would win? will i die? how long will i be fighting?

you tried to distract yourself by naming the colors in the morning sky.

sunrise, orange juice spilled onto the blue fabric of the sky, peeked over its blanket of green with tired eyes. sunrise remembered greeting life every morning with warm colors, but now it had to say goodbye too often each day. life bled from hundreds, thousands; too much red for the earth like too many strawberries for a stomach.

only the sunrise would see how many bodies were left behind, and you wondered who would get to go home. who would be the lucky few?

but this wounded world was still giving moments of wonder and joy. you had found someone.

the hell of camp toccoa bonded both of you like complimenting colors being sewn into a picture. you and him had felt the same needle, the hand gripping it being sobel’s. he had an image of the perfect company of soldiers, and it didn’t matter how much he twisted or stretched beyond limits, because it worked in the end. the screaming eagle would trademark history, and you were proud to wear it even if you were just a small thread among others.

you saw him, johnny martin, the man who opened the sun in your heart. he walked toward you, arms tucked behind his back. the sun gilded his eyes, and he smiled ear to ear, disarming you completely.

“hey, cookie.”

you held your chin high, smirking at what he was hiding behind him. “what have you got there?”

he revealed a tawny box tied with thick string. “i got you something. i remember you mentioning it before...i hope you like it.” he handed the gift box up to you.

“johnny,” you said, taken aback. “you shouldn’t have. you didn’t use your jump pay did you?”

he rested his arms on the stone wall, leaning forward. “it was worth it.” he winked.

eyeing him playfully, you pulled the bow, unraveling it and removing the box’s lid. your heart fumbled with its beats, and you had a telltale pinch in your eyes. inside was a stuffed animal, but it was much more than that. it was your childhood.

as if picking up a day old baby, you gingerly took the black scottie dog out. the bell on the yellow ribbon tied around the neck spoke in a clear, melodic tone—as though in greeting after so long.

vision blurred, a lump bobbed in your throat. you had lost your scottie dog years ago, and as a child you used to carry it everywhere. you had believed it was alive in some way. on cold nights, you’d tuck it under its own blanket. you’d brush the fur from its eyes, thinking it couldn’t see otherwise.

even when your love left its fur matted and eyes scratched and cloudy, you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

“i found it in an antique shop in the village,” johnny said.

“johnny martin.” gripping the scottie dog, you hopped down from the stone wall and wrapped your arms around johnny’s neck, molding yourself to him. “i’ve already won this war by having found you.”

he buried his face in the warm curve of your neck, lips warm against your skin. “and i’ve won the world.”

@general-taylor @mgdln97 @gottapenny @morgan108 @thegermansarebad @snafus-peckuh @junojelli @inglourious-imagines @wexhappyxfew @ineffablewants @sunflowerchuck @alienoresimagines @fandomscenariosforyou @ray--person @tvserie-s-world @keoghans @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @mrseasycompany @mrsalwayswrite @meteora-fc @order-of-river-phoenix @thoughpoppiesblow @50svibes @alejodi0nysus @now-im-a-belieber @mads-weasley @multifandomlover01 @heartbeats-wildly

[amorousadepti]

❈ flood in my heart (childe x reader)

another belated birthday fic, this time for dear rat boy (*￣▽￣)b honestly did not expect to fall so hard for this bastard but here we are!! he’s an absolute fave and im not ashamed. actually Would have gotten this one out at the right time but my internet decided to quit on me so :^) sorry 

summary: childe has plans for you on his birthday. you have plans of your own. the day takes a turn neither of you expect, but you’re not complaining (gn!reader, no pronouns or anatomy descriptions)

warnings: loosely-described fight scene, vague violence, childe being childe

length: 2.7k

The letter is delivered first thing in the morning, sitting on your tray of breakfast and propped against your steaming teacup.

You take your time before opening it. When your belly is pleasantly full with crab roe tofu and you're sipping from your third cup, you finally deign to lift the plain envelope from the tray, studying it intently. Though it bears no name, you already have an idea of the sender; you'd never admit it, but you've been anticipating this day for a while. 

Your suspicions are proved correct when you slit the envelope and find a letter written in Childe's familiar chicken-scratch scrawl. It no longer occurs to you to wonder how he knew where you were staying - by now, you know that if Childe wants to find you, he will. Munching idly on a crisp lotus flower, you consider the invitation. 

If you have no special plans, how about you swing by my place? 

Was it just wishful thinking, or was he—

You shake the thought from your head, taking another emphatic bite of lotus crisp. The day is still young. You have plenty of time to bathe, dress, and then make your way to Liuli Pavilion. 

(And if you spend just a little more time than usual on your appearance, making sure to spray the perfume he'd once impulsively bought you on each pulse point - well, that's no one's business but yours.)

"Comrade!" Comes the customary greeting once you finally wander into the Pavilion. Childe bounds up to you with a vibrant grin, sweeping you into an embrace that lifts you onto the tips of your boots. "I was hoping you would come!" 

You hum, leaning into his embrace and desperately fighting the instincts that tell you to bury your face in the crook of his neck and breathe deep in his familiar scent - saltwater and cold iron and the warm musk of his skin. You allow yourself to indulge only for a few seconds, then step back to a respectful distance (though Childe, disregarding the memo, follows and keeps an arm linked with yours.) 

"Happy birthday, Chi—"

"Ah, ah, ah!" He wags a finger at you, a cheeky smile playing on his lips. "It's my birthday, comrade - the least you can do is call me by my name, no?" 

"Happy birthday, Ajax." You squeeze his hand, his fingers moving to twine with yours. "And many happy returns." 

Childe beams at you, a faint glimmer in the usually dull blue of his eyes as he starts to pull you after him. "Now, I did say I have some plans for you—" 

"You don't want your gift first?" The way he whirls on his heel, clearly thrilled at the prospect of being lavished with gifts, is... endearing. You raise the bag in your free hand, wiggling it tantalizingly. "It comes in a few parts, actually."

"You spoil me, comrade," he simpers, unsubtly trying to swipe for your bundle of treasures and pouting when you withdraw. You roll your eyes in fond exasperation, pulling out the first part of your gift: a small white box that fits in your palm, bound with a delicate blue ribbon. 

"Open this first." You don't even need to tell him, really - he's quick to snatch the little box from your hand, though you notice he takes surprising care in untangling the ribbon. His expression softens when he holds your gift in his palm, rolling the little white whale between his fingers as he studies every intricately carved detail.

"It's made from a whale's tooth, too," you blurt, suddenly desperate to fill the silence. "It's from Inazuma - the merchant said she only had a few left, managed to snag them before the border closed. I thought of you when I saw it. Thought maybe it could be a good luck charm or something." 

"Coming from you, it has to be lucky," Childe says, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. He tucks the carving into a little pocket (just over his heart) and pats the spot where it rests gently, his smile small but honest. "Thank you. I'll take good care of this." 

You clear your throat, averting your eyes as you thrust the rest of the bag at him. "These, too."  

He peers inside, and you watch his brow furrow as he studies your prizes: an array of shackles and chaos cores and a few jars of slime concentrate to boot. The fruits of many battles, compiled over the past two months. Comprehension dawns quickly, his hands clenching into fists around the rucksack as he glances up to meet your eyes. 

"That bow of yours could use an upgrade, right? Especially if you want any chance of beating me today," you say demurely, a faint smile pulling at your lips. "Once you're done, meet me at the Golden House. But don't expect me to take it easy on you just because it's your birthday." 

The smile that curls his lips is nothing short of bloodthirsty. It makes your heart flutter. "I wouldn't dream of it, Comrade!" 

The sound of his laughter follows you through the streets, spurring you onward. Sneaking past the Millelith is easy enough - this is far from your first time, after all. Honestly, you're pretty sure none of them are willing to deal with the hassle of you and your Fatui opponent. You slip through the great door with only the faintest creak, stretching to loosen up your muscles as you amble down the sloping stairs to the center of the floor. Your favorite battlefield. 

You're still stretching casually when the hair on the back of your neck prickles, carefully honed instincts suddenly crying danger! You call your sword as you stand straight, rising just in time to bat away the Hydro arrow that would have caught you in the right shoulder. Droplets of water splatter your face, a cool spray that sets your nerves ablaze with anticipation. Your blood pumps quick as Childe steps into view, Vision glowing at his hip. 

"Oh, comrade," he sighs, almost dreamily. "You really do know just what I like!" 

His voice is drowned beneath a cacophony of water as he launches himself at you, barely giving you enough time to raise your shield before he crashes into it with a splash. Your muscles strain, a fine tremble in your limbs betraying the force of his blow. Your heart pounds with excitement, a grin twisting your lips in answer to his eager smile. 

He leaps back, dodging a slash from your dagger, and knocks you off balance with a Hydro attack to your knees that sends you staggering back. "Don't worry, I'll be sure to cook you a hearty meal after I beat you." 

"Don't get cocky, now," you huff, finding your feet. You move together in a predatory circle, each waiting for the other to strike. "You haven't beaten me yet."

"True! Which will make my victory today all the more special," he chirps, bouncing a little on his heels with glee. "Do I get another gift if I win?" 

"So greedy, Ajax," you breathe, digging your heels in as you weather another rapid onslaught of arrows. "The pleasure of my company isn't enough for you?" 

"I can think of more ways to indulge in your company, dear comrade," he purrs when your blade locks with a ridge of his bow, leaning close over your crossed weapons. His tongue, hot and quick, licks a trail across your cheekbone. 

You lash out with a sloppy swing of your blade, striking only air as the Harbinger leaps back with a gleeful cackle, twisting on his feet so he can fire another shot at you. You roll nimbly out of its path, grimacing as you scrub at your cheek with the back of your hand. 

Oh, you definitely won't be making this easy for him. 

It's impossible to tell how much time passes in the Golden House; whenever you're here with him, it's like the world reduces to only you and Childe, the clash and tangle of your bodies across the hallowed floor. It could be hours or only minutes. Whatever the case, you're both panting, dripping sweat, and sore by the time you see an opening in his guard, launching yourself towards him for the decisive blow. 

Except— 

His bow clatters to the ground, discarded from limp fingers. Childe stands still and quiet, arms hanging at his sides, and the expression on his face as he watches you charge, blade-first, is like nothing you've ever seen from him before. 

You lower your sword, your boots skidding on the floor - but not fast enough to stop your collision, and you faceplant into Childe's chest with a grunt. One arm wraps around your waist, holding you close; the other finds the wrist of your sword arm, extended carefully behind you. For a moment, it feels like an embrace, just as warm and affectionate as the one you'd shared with him earlier. 

Then he twists your arm hard enough that you cry out, your sword falling to the ground with a clang, and the next thing you know, you're flat on your back, Childe's hands encircling your wrists to pin you in place. 

The puff of each exhale fans over your lips, his narrow chest heaving as the two of you catch your breath. You test his grip and find it unyielding, strong as shackles. Childe watches you writhe beneath him with a quiet intensity that both unsettles and thrills you, something about the glint in his eyes making your heart turn over in your chest. Somehow, it feels as though you've lost much more than a friendly spar. 

"My," he chuckles finally, though his grasp on your wrists remains like iron. "I have to be honest, I wasn't sure whether you would stop!" 

You toss your head, glaring up at him without much heat. "That was a dirty trick." 

"I know," he says, releasing one arm to tenderly brush the hair away from your sweat-slick forehead. You don't take advantage of the moment of weakness. He does not apologize. That's good - you think you'd be more annoyed if he said sorry without meaning it. "But it seems that it's my win, comrade." 

You sigh through your nose, exasperated but unwilling to fight. "That it is." 

He hums quietly, still studying you with that strange look - you feel oddly naked, pinned beneath his gaze. The hand that remains around your wrist squeezes gently, gloved thumb grazing your pulse point; you try to restrain a shudder, but from the way his eyes sharpen, you doubt you succeed. 

"Now, now..." He sighs in a show of exaggerated thoughtfulness. "What should my next gift be?"  

You grumble something vaguely along the lines of not having agreed to another gift. Childe ignores you steadfastly, snapping his fingers in realization. "How about a kiss?" 

You snort, prepared to brush the request off as another bit of harmless flirting, but the look in his eyes is not one of jesting. Your mouth suddenly feels dry, and you wet your lips with your tongue before you speak again. The way his cobalt eyes flicker to watch your mouth does nothing to help your focus. "Seriously?" 

"Why not?" He says, shrugging as though he hasn't just knocked your world off-kilter. Your mouth opens, but before you can speak, you feel his fingers caress your jaw, his thumb resting on the pad of your lower lip. The leather is blessedly cool; you feel feverish in comparison. He's looking at you like he could swallow you whole, and you think you would let him. "A kiss from my most beloved comrade... now that's a gift I would really treasure."

You inhale, a ragged, gasping thing that sounds more post-coital than post-battle, and lay still beneath his hand. The thought that you have yet to actually respond fails to occur to your fogged brain - until suddenly the contact is gone, the loss of his touch echoing in your chest, and something in Childe's expression wavers before he's sitting up, a smile that doesn't reach his eyes on his lips. He's shutting himself off from you. Again.

"Ah, well, it was only a jo—mmph!"

Huh. If you'd known a kiss was all it took to stop his rambling, you might've given into your desires earlier. 

His lips are a bit chapped but pleasantly warm against yours, and his breath smells surprisingly sweet - it seems you weren't the only one indulging in Liyue's traditional snacks today. He hadn't been prepared for you to pull him down, and for a breathless moment his full weight rests upon you; there's a guilty exhilaration in feeling the length of him pressed against you, his long legs tangled with yours and strands of his hair tickling your cheeks. Your fingers knot tightly in his red scarf, holding him so close you think you can feel the pounding of his heart in your own chest. When your tongue flicks against the plush of his bottom lip, he moans sweetly, a shudder wracking his lithe frame as he opens for you, a gloved hand cupping your cheek. You taste blood in his mouth and can't tell whether it's yours or his. The thought excites you, your heart hammering as your blood grows hot. 

A strand of saliva, tinted pink with blood, connects your mouths when Childe pulls away with a ragged gasp. His lips are swollen from your kiss, a deep flush coloring his cheeks to the tips of his ears, and his eyes are wide and startled. They almost—

Shine. 

"Comrade!" Childe exclaims, reeling back on his heels. You've never seen him so... off-balanced, his hands twitching helplessly in the air. You decide you like him this way. "H-How bold of you!" 

You blink, lazily propping yourself up on your elbows. "You were the one that asked for a kiss in the first place." 

He seems to fluster even more at the reminder, hiding his mouth behind his wrist. "I didn't think you'd actually do it!" 

"Aw, Ajax," you coo. Much to your delight, the blush on Childe's cheeks grows even darker, a red glow creeping down his neck. "Is the big bad Harbinger flustered all because of a little kiss? What would Scara say if he saw you like this?"

Childe grimaces. "Don't mention him right now, please." 

You laugh, loudly, until Childe's hands clamp down on your shoulders, pinning you to the ground once again. Your breath stutters as you look up at him, finding him watching you intently; that same strange, searching look as before, but mixed with something darker. 

Hungrier. 

"You should be more careful, offering a gift like that so freely," he murmurs - a breathless purr like you've never heard before, the promise of danger in his voice making your thighs clench. One hand moves to gently nudge the band of your shirt off your shoulder, the brush of his fingers against your bared skin sending your nerves sparking. "I might want you to give me even more."

The words spill from your lips easily, without thinking. "Then take more." 

Childe stares down at you wordlessly. He's barely breathing, lashes fluttering when you reach out and catch his hand, slipping your fingers under the tight line of his glove until you can peel it off his fingers. He says your name, soft and wondering. 

"You said that this was a gift you'd treasure..." You guide him to the tie of your blouse. Unprompted, his fingers curl around the loose knot. "So make sure to take good care of me, Ajax." 

Your blouse falls open with a gentle tug, and Childe falls upon you, locking your lips in a messy kiss as his hands roam your body wildly, seeking out every scrap of bare skin he can find. You're pulled onto your knees to straddle his lap as he sits back and pulls you atop him, breaking from your mouth to trail bruising bites down the length of your throat. The force of his desire crashes down upon you like a wave, filling your lungs with only him. 

You're glad to drown. 

[oceantail-oceantail]

reflected (just like you) | 640 words

characters/ tags: Illumina, Eret, MCC setting, Eret is related to Herobrine, the Universe loves Illumina, the Universe hates Herobrine

inspired by "mirror image (who am i)" by @belovedgamers (tumblr link, ao3 link)

The Universe's most loved and most abhorred meet again in MCC 17. ~~~ (except Illumina and Eret are good friends by now, the Teal Turkeys' victory lives on, as it should)

read on ao3 (comments appreciated)

or under the cut (reblogs appreciated)

The 17th Minecraft Championship was about to start shortly and Illumina was almost late, still berating himself for forgetting to change into his Pink Parrots themed MCC gear.

In his communicator, he hears Fruit, Sasha, and Zuez still giggling about how Illumina had shown up wearing his regular pitch black running gear while they’d been decked out in bright pink fabrics and lavender ribbons.

He gracefully leaps over the oak fencing near the center of the Hub, cheeks still burning in mild embarrassment for the whole incident. Thankfully he’d made it back to the dance floor just in time for the final minute of countdown.

Out of the corner of his eyes he spots a tall, bright figure wearing aqua team colors and suddenly, the Universe hums angrily at the base of his skull, a deep low hum of disdain, a cold warning.

Not that different from the first time Illumina had come face to face with Eret.

Illumina lets out a huff of frustration.

He knows the Universe has no love for Herobrine's kin.

But Illumina does. He remembers MCC 13 so fondly that he still carries his winners coin on his person, even when running and liberating worlds, the small award reminding him of the one of the happiest days of his life.

A day he shared it with three friends, including the Universe's most loathed.

The jubilation that filled the air when Krinios fired that last winning shot was unparalleled. Illumina’s screaming nearly tore out his own vocal cords for a week. The exhilaration that raced through his body when his teammates threw their arms around him when they ran forward onto the podium, matching golden crowns settled upon their heads. (“WE WENDYS!!! WE WENDYS!!!”)

Eret and Illumina's empty eyes, blazing white and endlessly black, were framed by their ecstatic faces in the candid photos Punz snapped after the event. ("It's for the memories, Illumina!!" Punz had defended himself as he took his 500th photo)

Those two void eyes meet again now, white and black, a curse and a blessing, borne by two living entities who were hated and loved by the Universe, respectively.

And just like the first time, an unfriendly current reflexively runs up Illumina's spine and the same bittersweetness of the stardust burns his mouth. He grimaces on instinct, but the pain quickly subsides and melts away as affection overtakes him at the sight of an old friend.

Eret shoulders their practice bow and lifts a hand in greeting, flashing Illumina a broad smile. Her MCC outfit today shone as brightly as her eyes, a glowing aqua corset and skirt with a matching flower crown that rested on his braided hair. Illumina had a suspicion they both commissioned their outfits from the same seamstress, because his own pink gear and lavender ribbon had a similar shine to it, though not as blinding.

That thought was funny to him. Probably wasn’t as funny to the Universe.

They're too far away for either of them to hear each other, (the Hub is simply packed with people, participants, admins, and spectators alike) so Illumina just waves back, grinning beneath his glowing pink mask.

Eret gives him a final thumbs up before disappearing into the crowd again, just as Fruit grabs Illumina by the elbow to yank him towards the lowering staircase.

Illumina watches the staircase descend just as it had done at the start of every Championship, the familiar adrenaline beginning to pump in his veins. MCC was truly such an amazing thing to be a part of and experience.

And who knows? Maybe one day he'll be able to team with Eret again. Teal Turkeys was truly unforgettable. Who would have thought that one of the Universe’s beloved runners and the kin of Herobrine would become friends?

But Illumina has always been the First, after all.

[jaskiersvalley]

I LOVE JASKIER HAVING A SUPPORTIVE FAMILY AND LETTENHOVE BEING A SANCTUARY TO WITCHERS IM AKSJWQKWNOAKANWKQ

I always adore seeing you crop up in my notes, and your enthusiasm in your asks makes we want to treasure them. But they deserve to be let loose into the wilds of this website and, like always, here’s a little thank you fic with some more Lettenhove being a sanctuary and Jaskier’s family being supportive of Witchers. If you’ve ever heard Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree, you know what’s going to happen.

Yellow Ribbon

Witchers weren't meant to take sides. They were meant to be neutral, without political agenda or loyalties to any other than their life's purpose to rid the Continent of monsters. This particular fact was drilled into Wolf Witchers to the point that even the most rebellious of them evaded human conflicts as much as possible. Aiden knew all that but he wasn't raised a Wolf. Cats knew they shouldn't blatantly take sides but, given their tendency to take on less Witcher-y contracts, they very much blurred the lines. Then came the Nilfgaardian war and Aiden knew he couldn't sit back and watch as the world he knew tore itself apart. But he also knew Lambert wouldn't understand. His Wolf, so loyal, yet so entrenched in the rules he was raised to hate, he would never be able to understand why Aiden left to join. Why he felt the need to fight the humans' battle. Power ebbed and flowed over the course of time, this was just another turn of the tide. Not to Aiden though. He knew he would likely be killed but at least he'd die fighting for what he believed in. Leaving Lambert was nigh on impossible. Aiden spent so long trying to figure out how to tell him he was leaving, likely to never come back. He couldn't do it. If he was going to die anyway, it wouldn't make much of a difference as to when Lambert thought him dead. So Aiden arranged his own assassination, left enough evidence that all would think him dead and he fled to the frontlines, heart heavy but knowing he took the least painful course of action possible.

The war lasted years. Throughout it all, Aiden tried to keep an ear out for new of his Wolf. He heard of the White Wolf's rise, how Kaer Morhen finally fell and the Wolves now called Lettenhove their home. Aiden could only hope that Lambert was happier there, more comfortable. On some nights thoughts of his beloved Wolf, comfortable and happy, were the only thing that kept Aiden sane.

As all things tended to do, even the war came to an end. Aiden had new scars to show for it but he was alive and on the winning side for a change. It was not something he ever anticipated and he had no idea what to do now. In his heart of hearts he knew what he wanted: Lambert. But the chances of him being welcomed back with open arms were slim. Aiden had to try though, had to know whether there was still a sliver of Lambert's heart that maybe missed him. However, Aiden was a coward in the matters of the heart, he didn't think he could survive the rejection, the anger. So he did the next best thing. He wrote a letter.

Lambert,

I don't know if I can call you mine anymore. When I left, I didn't think I'd survive the war I was compelled to join. But, years down the line, I'm still here, the war is won. Despite this, I still feel like I'm in a battle, fighting to know whether your heart still beats for me. I'll understand if you want nothing to do with me, you'll never see me again if you so wish. Yet I hope you can forgive me and set my heart free even though you were never them one to force it into this fight. I'll be joining the home caravan headed North. It will pass through Lettenhove where I believe you now call home. At the edge of the settlement is an old oak tree. If, when the caravan passes through there, it has a yellow ribbon tied around it, I'll know to leave the caravan and search you out. However, if the tree remains bare, I will continue with the caravan and this is the last you'll hear from me.

As little as it may be worth, I send this with all my hopes and heart at your mercy.

Aiden

The letter would reach Lettenhove a good week before the caravan, Aiden was confident. As they travelled, the caravan got smaller, people leaving to head towards their own home. Seeing all the teary, heartfelt reunions hurt in a way. While Aiden was pleased for them, he was also horribly jealous. Wishing he could dream of such a welcome turned and happiness for his fellow veterans into something bitter. Aiden could only hope he was heading home too rather than setting out on a nomadic life that would be filled with regrets.

As they approached Lettenhove, Aiden could barely look. He kept his head down, determined to only give the old oak tree a furtive glance as they passed. To watch the bare tree in the distance, grow closer but be devoid of a yellow ribbon was too much. He didn't expect the caravan to start murmuring, gasps and giggles going up.

"What do you think it all means?" Someone asked ahead of him.

"Maybe some local festival. Or one hell of a welcome home."

Hope drew Aiden's eyes up earlier than he wanted and he let out a choked whimper. There wasn't a single yellow ribbon around the old oak tree. It was absolutely covered. Every branch, twig and bud was wrapped in a myriad of yellow ribbons. Not just that, all the fences, posts, even dog houses were adorned in yellow ribbons, creating a bright path to follow. It took all of Aiden's control not to run, letting the ribbons guide him. Though, on second thought he was right not to run, his sight was too blurry with tears all of a sudden.

As the caravan moved through Lettenhove, people were standing outside their homes cheering and waving anything yellow. It all culminated with a small group of people at the path to the Pankratz mansion. Half of them were familiar, Geralt, Eskel, Vesemir were all there, yellow ribbons woven into their hair or into a buttonhole. Out front though stood Jaskier in a bright yellow doublet, strutting forward like a proud peacock.

"Welcome home, Aiden," he called and the people in the caravan all turned to look at the Witcher in question. To think that a Witcher of all things would have such a welcome was absurd. But there they were, a Witcher being welcomed home like family. "I will make introductions to my family later-" Jaskier was saying, "-they helped source all the ribbons and are putting on a feast. But I believe there's someone you want to see more."

The group parts and there was Lambert, a crown of dandelions perched on top of his head, a yellow ribbon clutched tight in his hand, creasing the material beyond rescue.

"Lamb." Aiden's voice was breathy, hesitant. Despite all the yellow, he still wasn't certain of his welcome. At least not until Lambert closed the distance between them with two long strides and reached up to cup his cheeks in two hands.

"You bastard."

Their foreheads pressed together, Lambert's thumbs stroked over Aiden's cheeks, feeling the ridges of new scars and the ribbon tickled his chin.

"I'm sorry," Aiden croaked. "I had to go."

"I know." Lambert's eyes were brimming with tears. "I mourned you. I missed you. Don't do this to me again."

Promises dripped from Aiden's lips. He hated how Lambert brokenly murmured "if you'd asked, I've have come with you". That had never been an option, Aiden didn't want to drag Lambert into a war he had no interest in. But it was all in the past, they were choices they couldn't make again, no matter how much they wished they could. What they did have though was a new future together. And, if Aiden had heard right, it was going to be starting off with a feast.

[morgana-ren]

if you'd be so inclined my dear, what are your thoughts on how Tomura's character has developed over the series' timeline? -☼

So, I think Horikoshi did an excellent job at character development- especially considering that he's a villain (not the focal point of the series) and he really didn't have to do that. He easily could have kept Tomura an impudent little man-child, but he didn't, and I truly appreciate that.

So, in season one, we get his debut as USJ, and it became quickly apparent that he was... disorganized. Intelligent and dangerous, clearly, but not quite there yet. He essentially threw money at a pack of sell-sword villains, had a basic plan for how he wanted things to go, and relied on his Nomu to do the majority of his work for him. He didn't even consider variables and other things he couldn't have foreseen- he took Master at his word and just went for it.

He makes a multitude of mistakes during this attack, and it's part of why he fails so hard. Underestimates the kids simply because they're young, not factoring in that these are to be the nations top heroes. Even young, each one is sporting a power that puts them at the top of the class and above the rest of the nation. He basically goes "Fuck it, just scatter them and have these no-name villains kill them. No way that could go wrong." not considering that these children have been learning from the best of the best and are clearly already intelligent of their own accord.

He doesn't take into account that these heroes actually care for these kids and that feeling responsible for them works in their favor as opposed to being a detriment. They fight harder and take more abuse to keep them protected (Aizawa getting absolutely demolished but still persisting to defend the children even as he bleeds to death with a broken body.)

The intel wasn't wrong, per se, but he took it at face value, not even bothering to consider that All Might would push far past his limit to keep these kids safe. For someone as obsessed with felling All Might, he certainly didn't really know a thing about him. His genuine goodness and character would not allow him to fail when their lives were on the line. And then there's the matter of Midoriya, and while Tomura had no way of knowing that he's inherited All Might's power, he should have been able to account for wild cards like that from valiant children dedicated to heroism.

More under the cut because I’m just rambling.

I think this defeat humbles him. For most of his life, things have gone his way because of who is backing him and because he is extremely dangerous with a powerful quirk- this teaches him that raw strength and basic strategy won't be enough.

He watches Stain take the country by storm, and he can't understand it. Doesn't get what the big deal is- he believes he and Stain are mostly cut from the same cloth because of their penchant for violence and murdering heroes, totally blind to the convictions behind Stain's actions. He's incapable of thinking outside of his own view points, and it cripples him. These are his first few steps outside of his own comfort zone and where he begins to grow.

He's forced to consider not what he wants, but why. He resists this every step of the way, but ultimately realizes that paying off little bastard villains to work in his name isn't enough. He needs players under his command that will fight for more than money- and sell swords are loyal to nothing but that. He needs to find a conviction (even as he ends up stealing the mask of one and using it as a facade at first) that others can relate to and be passionate about.

So he does.

He steals Stain's ideology for his own and uses it to recruit some of his top members- even if he is a right little bastard about it at first. While he throws a tizzy fit because they aren't "perfect" (his standards are very high despite the fact that he's arguably not a very effective leader) but eventually ends up utilizing them regardless.

It's around here that he starts sharpening his instincts and learns what it is to be a true leader. He learns he cannot casually throw around his pawns because ultimately, he cannot win this war by himself. 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend' and while he isn't as enchanted with Stain's entire gimmick as his comrades are, he still wields it effectively.

He's still learning, however, as we learn when he takes Bakugo. Had he gone to the effort to get to know a single thing about him, he would have learned very quickly that trying to recruit him would come up completely pointless. He just saw untamed anger and unrestrained violence bordering on unhinged and thought "Ah yes, he's powerful and very much like me- he'll do nicely" and put together a whole plan to kidnap him. I think the vanguard's success in capturing him shows Tomura just how useful it is to have clever little birds under your command, and that sticks with him.

Losing his Master, like AFO says, forces him to become his own man. He loses the cushy abode he'd had for most of his life, loses many of the benefits afforded to him by being AFO's protege. He and his ragtag team of villains live in squalor, almost entirely destitute, and are forced to survive- but they stay loyal, and that means something to him. I think it’s around here where he actually begins to care about them. 

We see how he reacts to Magne’s death. I don’t think for one second he aided in destroying Overhaul simply because he was a threat. If that was the case, he would have stopped once he was arrested. He risks everything to get vengeance. Cuts his limbs off and renders him completely helpless as payment for what he did to Compress and to avenge Magne’s wrongful death. 

Over the course of everything, he’s become more patient, more cunning, more dangerous. He’s learning quickly from his mistakes, how to command his ranks in a respectful, effective way, and how to keep them safe. He learns their strengths and weaknesses, and while he’s still a bit thorny, it’s very apparent he does care for them. He’s on his own now, and knows he needs greater power, greater numbers to achieve his goals. He is ruthlessly ambitious, willing to endure ungodly amounts of pain to meet his ends. 

So now we have this season (which I haven’t actually watched, as I’m just waiting for disappointment because I fucking know Bones won’t do him justice) and he’s seeking out both Gigantomachia, a former ally, and the PLF. Both things that could be of great value to him. His leadership skills and ability to command will be put to the test, but so will his endurance, his willpower, and everything else. This is the beginning of him as a truly devastating threat. 

He’s growing into the villain I think he deserves to be. He’s facing down the very bones that comprise him and learning why he is the way he is. What his convictions really are and how far he’s willing to go to achieve his goals. HIs past, his life as he knows it, what needs to be done to put a pretty little ribbon on everything. He is, in a way, shedding like a snake- ridding himself of weaknesses, growing into his strengths, and evolving into a more capable predator. 

If you ask me, realistically, I think Shigaraki would actually win. When it’s all said and done, I think his arc is far more compelling than any of the heroes or their children. I think he has more drive, more wit, more raw power and more reasons to keep fighting. A lot of the kids, while cute and the main characters, are quite hollow. But over the course of all these seasons, we get to watch Tomura’s metamorphosis and his evolution into a purer, undiluted evil. He transforms into something truly sinister- a literal manifestation of all of the flaws and pitfalls of society and hero culture as it exists. He is undeniable proof of the toxicity and that the way things are cannot be allowed to stand, and the fact that so many people resonate with him and follow him loyally should be the ultimate clue-in. 

I think if the heroes weren’t blinded, they would look at Shigaraki and his league and consider it. Wonder if, just for a moment, there was something there that they should pay attention to. A cry that they should hear rather than be willing deaf to. But they don’t. 

Gran Torino is a prime example of this. So are all the other so called ‘heroes’. Calling him evil. Underestimating him. Considering him someone who just woke up one day and decided ‘I don’t like this so I’m going to kill a lot of people’. You’d think that they’d recognize that a drive like his does not come from nothing. If they sat down, shut the fuck up and listened for ten seconds, maybe they wouldn’t be dying by the dozens. 

I’m not saying that they should allow him to continue to trample the world and kill at will. But what I am saying is that part of how they’re fighting him and how they’re viewing this in terms of black and white and good versus evil is exactly the fucking problem, and it’s that kind of bullshit that birthed the villain we know as Tomura Shigaraki to begin with. 

[obae-me]

hi!! may i please request nsfw headcanons of the brothers (+ Diavolo and Barbatos, if you can) with an MC with a pastel aesthetic who usually wears skirts and thigh highs who loves plushies and is a brat in bed??

This is my first time writing NFSW headcanons so I hope you like them! 💜

NSFW Below The Line, Please note that even if these are suggestive I always write with equal consent in mind.

Lucifer

Oh no. When they came down from the human world in light pink clothes, looking innocent and naive, he knew he was going to have his hands full. Their stark contrast against the Devildom’s bold dark colors was just screaming for some lower demon to take them.

The more he got to know them, the more MC drove him wild, but in a good way. They pushed his buttons in all the right places, puffing up his pride and then tearing it down in a tease.

Whenever they wore thigh highs, which was often, he would get distracted, wondering what those thighs would look like tied up in his many ropes or ribbons.

When they finally got to bed together, their behavior was even worse.

“Is this all the Demon of Pride can do?”

They were a brat, and he needed to put them in their place. If they were going to act like a child, they would be punished like one.

He wouldn’t stop till they were obedient. Till the mouth that would dare mock him was singing his praises. Till they knew who to obey. And he wouldn’t give them any pleasure till they begged for it.

Mammon

Their bright and soft aesthetic reminded him of a child, and the last thing he wanted to do was be a human’s babysitter. However he would never have guessed how deep MC would have him wrapped around their finger.

He’d end up giving them anything they wanted to keep them happy. MC would abuse this just a bit. If he was going to be their sugar daddy without knowing it, they wouldn’t refuse. He’d pamper them with clothes, cute gifts, plushies, all because he couldn’t resist how they looked when they pouted their lips and asked him for it.

They teased him though, god, how they teased him. Not only how they looked but how they acted, especially with demons other than him. But push Mammon too far and he can be even more possessive than Lucifer. He’s the Demon of Greed, and if he wants something, he’ll take it by any means necessary.

If they’re already in bed with him, kissing and teasing, but being a brat? Denying him what he wants with a smile and a roll of the eyes and watching him get flustered over it? That’ll drive him wild. He’ll growl in their ears and take what’s his. Making sure to mark them in several places so everybody can know who MC belongs to.

Levi

They remind him of a kawaii anime character. He’ll fall in love with them immediately. None of the demons around here ever looked like that. Even the school uniforms RAD had were always dark and mature. He could barely look at them without blushing.

MC knew this and lived off it. They’d purposely get close to him, grabbing his arm and pushing their chest close against it. Wearing extra short skirts just to expose just enough skin to make him all red in the face. He’s a shy baby most of the time, until the demon comes out of him.

They would dare question his otaku reputation? They would dare talk about being with someone else just to make him jealous? They would dare snatching one of his prized figurines to hide it behind their back?

“If you want this back, you’ll have to go through me~”

He’s played so many dating games that he knows the only way they’ll be satisfied is through force. He’ll play them like a game and make sure he wins. With his fingers in all the right places till MC finally ends up the one red and flustered.

Satan

He couldn’t care less how MC decided to dress. Aside from a cultural perspective, fashion was never important to him, what someone looked like was insignificant next to how much they knew.

MC knew this and so they would act dumb around him, but for the life of him he couldn’t discover as to why. They did just fine in their studies, and surely they couldn’t be as dumb as they pretended to be.

Until they got a little more familiar, and MC would do things to him and act stupid as an excuse to get away with it. Surely they knew how he felt when they rubbed against him in sensitive areas. About how he felt being compared to Lucifer. Were they insulting him? Insulting his intelligence? Nothing made him angrier.

“But how am I supposed to know unless you teach me?”

Oh Satan would teach them a lesson alright. Class was about to be in session. They would know how to behave around him. They would be taught how to act if they wanted for him to please them so badly. If MC knew what they were doing, they would have to be prepared for his wrath to be unleashed so well bad they’d not be able to walk to school tomorrow.

Asmo

MC is so cute he can’t stand it. They’re both pink and bright and beautiful. The Devildom is so bland and drab, meaning MC is such a breath of fresh air. He knows all sorts of outfits that would look amazing on them.

Ooh, they’re going to be bratty? How cute, he can be bratty too, so who would win in the end? Anything MC said to him he just found endearing. He’s been in bed with everyone, honey, he knows how to handle them.

Ah but what he wasn’t expecting was for them to cut them off completely. To shun them and act like he doesn’t exist, on purpose. He had enjoyed the bratty game, because it was some form of attention, but now they’re not even giving him any of it? The shining Demon of Lust has to be the center of all their attention.

That outfit MC was wearing wasn’t cutting it. He’ll tear it off and give them something...better to wear. He has a separate closet full of clothes he wants to see MC in. Especially if it makes them turn that bratty attitude shy.

He’ll make sure they don’t forget him or ignore him again. He’ll have them memorize every inch of his body and sear it into their mind. He’ll have his moans be the only thing they hear all night. Ensuring it’s impossible to ignore him. He wants MC to know his body better than their own.

Beel

MC reminds him of something sweet like a marshmallow, he has to be held back not to eat them right off the bat. He only just needs to be patient...

He doesn’t really pick up on the behavior at first. They want something to eat? He’ll get it for them. If they throw a little tantrum if the food is wrong, they can have his, he’ll eat anything. He’s more of a protector, not a punisher, and so he doesn’t quite get why MC keeps acting like this around him.

So MC had to step up their game, and decided to eat the last of his special ice cream. When he found out, he was furious. MC knew it was his, and it was a limited flavor that won’t be back for another century. 

“What’re you going to do about it?”

If they ate his ice cream, he was going to have to eat something else. He’d just have to have MC as the appetizer, main course and dessert. He’ll take their clothes off with just his teeth. Leave them with faint bite marks as he nibbles on them. He’ll finally get to taste them through thoroughly, feasting off of them until he’s full.

Belphie

MC looked soft, like a pillow or a colorful cloud during sunsets he remembers seeing in the human realm. Even just looking at them made him sleepy. 

He’s Sloth, he doesn’t have the time or the energy to deal with MC’s taunts or advances. It exhausts him, and he’ll just sleep it off.

Or that’s what he’d like to do if MC would let him sleep. They’ll talk about anything to keep him awake. They’ll shake him. Bother him. Rattle him up. Even go so far as to sit on him and straddle his body, refusing to let him get rest. He gets cranky when he’s tired.

If that’s how they wanted it...he’ll stay awake, just to pin them to the bed. He’ll make sure MC’s noises are muffled by his pillow so they’re not too loud. He won’t stop until they’re so exhausted they’ll have no choice but to fall fast asleep, with him doing even more to them in their dreams. That night MC will be his pillow.

Diavolo

He liked how MC looked. It was different. It was human. He couldn’t get enough of amazing little humans. He especially was fond the way MC seemed to forget the fact he was a ruler. A Demon ruler. The brothers that MC had gotten to know so well were fallen, yes, but were angels originally. They weren’t Hell Breed demons. So no one had ever treated him the way MC did, and it drove Lucifer up the wall which he found so much more entertaining.

MC was trying so hard to get him riled up, but he’s been alive for ages, he’s had demons of all sorts out to get him mad, to lose his composure. To ruin his image. It wasn’t going to happen, adorable human, try as they so desperately may. He’d let them think it was working, just to humor them.

He thought it was so refreshing to be teased instead of worshiped for once. He wants to see how far they’re willing to go. How far they’re willing to push their luck. He’ll treat their boldness with rewards, but he also has an image to maintain, so there’s no way MC is getting out of this without ending up on their knees. He’ll just postpone it as long as he’s able.

He’ll have them discover how much power he has, how much people fear him, how much special treatment he’s given them thus far. They’ve never seen a demon like this before. His very presence emanates superiority. At the end of the day he’ll find out how much more satisfying it is to have MC at his feet than anyone else.

Barbatos

Barbados is Diavolo’s source of information. None other than him could be the one to directly serve the Lord himself. He knows everything about MC. Everything. Every MC from every timeline and possible outcome. Which means that the fact that this MC was here like this says he chose them. He chose to be here in this present with this MC.

He’s the most composed demon in the Devildom, even surpassing Lucifer and Diavolo himself. No one will ever know if they’ve pissed him off, his expression is unchanging and they’ll find themselves along the branch of time where they die their worst death.

So the fact that MC was purposefully trying to frustrate him up was amusing. Of course he’d never do anything to harm them since they were important to Diavolo and the program, and he was quite fond of them.

He’d show them possible bedroom events they could have together, but would never give them any until they asked for it. He was still a gentleman and a butler, and so he wouldn’t do anything until someone told him to. He’d be pleased watching MC spend ages trying to pry him out of his cool-headed nature so he could do as he would with them. But eventually they would succumb against his unwavering gaze and beg for Barbados to fulfill some of those futures that he taunted them with.

[gffa]

There was this viral tweet that went around about THE UNTAMED awhile back that was basically the cycle of every fan of the series that I have ever met: 1. Wtf, THIS is the show everyone is losing their minds over? This isn’t even good! 2. Well, I guess it’s not that bad, it’s pretty watchable and fun, it’s all right. 3. I would now die for these characters. So, when I swore this drama wasn’t going to be a big fandom for me, I was just going to watch the show and then fuck off again, I should have known better. Because here I am, crying about feelings about the entire cast and devouring fic and yelling at anyone who will spend even five minutes listening to me about how much I love the OTP, how much I love the Yunmeng Siblings and their Terrible Communications Issues, and the Tragic Sibling Duos and the Tragic Doomed Loves and The Cutest Juniors In The World and how I want to lock ALL OF THEM IN A ROOM until they sort out their feelings! THE UNTAMED/MO DAO ZU SHI RECS - EMOTIONAL CONSTIPATION RUNS IN THE FAMILY - YUNMENG SIBLINGS FIC: ✦ Still in the Water by airgeer, lan wangji/wei wuxian & jin ling & lan sizhui & jiang cheng, 45k    A year after Jin Ling’s early succession to the position of Sect Leader, a letter is delivered to him under strange circumstances. A night-hunt follows. ✦ no one lights a candle to remember by asravine, wei wuxian & jiang cheng & jiang yanli (& wangxian), 7.9k    “Didi,” Wei Wuxian says softly. His thumb on Jiang Cheng’s cheek is calloused and warm and burns of affection. Jiang Cheng barely stops himself from leaning in. “Didi, don’t cry because of me.” ✦ can people untie themselves, uncurling like flowers by annemari, wei wuxian & jiang cheng & jin ling & lan wangji, 19.3k    Wei Wuxian gets hurt on a night hunt. Jiang Cheng is displeased to find out that he’s been wandering around on his own instead of living with Lan Wangji in Cloud Recesses. He ends up fixing it. ✦ bark, bite by chashmish, wei wuxian & jiang cheng & lan wangji & jin ling (& wangxian), modern au, 3.4k    Jin Ling finds a dog and learns some new things about his uncles. ✦ before you stumble by ribena, wei wuxian & jiang cheng & jin ling & lan wangji & lan sizhui (& wangxian), 9.8k    “Uncle,” Jin Ling says. “Just because Uncle Wei - I mean, Wei Wuxian - just because he’s leading the night-hunt, he’s teaching, he’s not doing anything wrong, he even notified you ahead of time -” ✦ Five Dogs, One Cat by ryfkah, wei wuxian & jiang cheng & jin ling & lan wangji & lan sizhui & lan jingyi & nie huaisang, 13.4k    If you’ve ever believed me in anything, believe I want what’s best for Jin Ling, the first line of the letter reads. Jiang Cheng has to stop and take a moment before he continues on to the next line: You must come to Carp Tower as soon as you can and lavish praise on the ugliest dog I’ve ever seen. ✦ Life is Very Long by Vamillepudding, wei wuxian & jiang cheng & jin ling & lan wangji & lan sizhui & lan jingyi (& wangxian), 12.7k    Wei Wuxian is a good for nothing, possibly evil, possibly fake uncle. But he’s Jin Ling’s good for nothing, possibly evil, possibly fake uncle. So it stands to reason that when Jin Ling starts to suspect that Hanguang-jun is mistreating his husband, he immediately recruits Jiang Cheng for a rescue mission. ✦ a symbol to remind you that there’s more to see by paperminds, wei wuxian & jiang cheng & jin ling & lan wangji & lan sizhui & lan jingyi & ouyang zizhen, 9.7k    For as long as Jin Ling can remember, he has been immune to the majority of supernatural hauntings that plague the cultivation world. Or: what if Jin Ling had received his first-month birthday gift. ✦ plea from a cat named little plum blossom by rolameny, wei wuxian & jiang cheng & jin ling, 5.1k    Jiang Cheng is trying. Jiang Cheng is having a very trying day. At least the cat likes him. ✦ JC and WWX’s Get Along Sweater by newamsterdam, wei wuxian & jiang cheng & jin ling & lan wangji & lan sizhui (& wangxian), 29.6k    Convinced Jiang Cheng and Wei WuXian will never reconcile of their own accord, Jin Ling takes matters into his own hands by trapping both of his uncles alone, together, without their cultivation. ✦ passed down like folksongs, our love lasts so long by finedae, wei wuxian & jiang cheng (& background wangxian), 6k    winning a drinking contest, wei wuxian finds out yunmeng has got new folklore since he’s been gone. those are the stories of the Twin Prides of Yunmeng. naturally, he has to go confront jiang cheng for doing the opposite of talking shit about the dead; this is a confession of love. ✦ sorrow waited by curiositykilled, wei wuxian & jiang cheng, 2.3k    No one gets out of the Burial Mounds alive and so Wei Wuxian cannot have been in the Burial Mounds — but sometimes Jiang Cheng starts to think it might be the inverse instead. No one gets out of the Burial Mounds alive and so Wei Wuxian didn’t get out at all. Someone, something, else crawled out. ✦ the trick is to keep breathing by alessandriana, wei wuxian & jiang cheng & jin ling, 3.4k    Jiang Cheng probably should have anticipated the assassination attempt. He’d spent the last three weeks in Lanling browbeating the more intractable elders into supporting Jin Ling before his nephew’s first discussion conference, and he hadn’t exactly been kind about it. Still, he was a cultivator– if someone was going to try and kill him, he expected swords, or curses. Not poison in his tea. ✦ the road in leaves no step had trodden black by Skadiseven, wei wuxian & jiang cheng & wen ning & wen qing, 1.6k    Jiang Cheng gets a little therapy session from Wen Ning, learns to plant potatoes, and decides he’s not giving up on something he wants. THE UNTAMED/MO DAO ZU SHI RECS - JUST STRAIGHT UP WANGXIAN OTP FIC: ✦ Fire in the Blood by Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle), lan wangji/wei wuxian, nsfw, 20.7k    Wei Ying is traveling, and he gets busy. Lan Wangji knows that sometimes, Wei Ying forgets things. ✦ scapegoat by astrobandit, lan wangji/wei wuxian, 1.3k    Four ridiculous things the Yiling Patriarch was blamed for, and one ridiculous thing that was positively his fault. ✦ Content Warning: Romance by Ariaste, lan wangji/wei wuxian, nsfw, 5.9k    Wei Wuxian just wants a little warning before Lan Wangji says nice things. Lan Wangji just wants to love on his husband, thanks. ✦ Where the Lonely Ones Go by CSHfic, VSfic, lan wangji/wei wuxian & jiang cheng & cast, 23.9k    Accidental (haunted) baby acquisition ✦ devotee by tagteamme, lan wangji/wei wuxian, NSFW, 5.8k    Lan Wangji does not control Wei Wuxian. Not in the way many wish he would. But like this— ✦ nothing gold can stay by rikke, lan wangji/wei wuxian & cast, nsfw, 10.3k    Before Wen Chao can throw him into Yiling Burial Mounds, Lan Wangji finds Wei Wuxian. ✦ Wait, What? by MarbleGlove, lan wangji/wei wuxian & lan xichen, time travel, 1.5k    AKA, that time sixteen-year-old Wei WuXian showed up at Cloud Recesses, took one look at Lan WangJi and declared, “That’s my future husband!” … and Lan WangJi said, “Mm” ✦ Beyond All Reach by airinshaw, lan wangji/wei wuxian & jiang cheng & jin ling & nie huaisang & lan xichen, NSFW, 27.4k    Wei Wuxian heads back to Cloud Recesses to find out more about a curse someone has placed on him, that appears to do nothing. Until he meets back up with Lan Wangji and finds out that what the curse really does is stop them from being able to touch. ✦ Key Differences by pupeez4eva, lan wangji/wei wuxian & cast, 5.6k    Wherein Wei Wuxian ends up meeting an alternate version of himself who, much to his horror, never married Lan Wangji. Obviously he has to do something to fix this. ✦ the heart is hard to translate by vespertineflora, lan wangji/wei wuxian, NSFW, rough sex, non-con play, 10.8k    The moment comes almost out of the blue when, one relaxed spring afternoon, Lan Wangji decides that he’s ready to offer Wei Wuxian an opportunity to play out that very delicious fantasy about their stolen first kiss. ✦ Pigtail Pulling by protos_metazu_ison, lan wangji/wei wuxian & jiang cheng & nie huaisang & lan xichen, 3.7k    Wei Wuxian trips over Jiang Wanyin and sends both of them to the ground in a tangle of limbs and bruises. ✦ The Last Three Feet by etymologyplayground, lan wangji/wei wuxian & lan sizhui & lan wangji, 3.7k    A moment of down time in the Cloud Recesses. THE UNTAMED/MO DAO ZU SHI RECS - SOMETIMES YUNMENG SIBLINGS FIC, SOMETIMES WANGXIAN FIC: ✦ put your heart where your mouth is by protos_metazu_ison, lan wangji/wei wuxian & jiang cheng, 19.9k    Having lost a month’s worth of memories might have been fine if Wei Wuxian hadn’t managed to forget the part where he and Lan Wangji got engaged. If that was, actually, what happened. He hasn’t figured out that part yet. ✦ Orchids in Lotus Pier by Vamillepudding, lan wangji/wei wuxian & jiang cheng & lan xichen & jiang yanli & jin zixuan & cast, 21.6k    Against all odds, Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng become friends. It’s just Jiang Cheng’s luck that people think they’re courting. And it’s just Lan Wangji’s luck that regretfully, Wei Wuxian is also People. ✦ Deeper grows my longing by feyburner, lan wangji/wei wuxian & jiang cheng, 4.4k    Jiang Cheng stared at him. “How are you this dense,” he said flatly. “Wei Wuxian. The common people aren’t scared of you, they’re scared of your husband.“ “My what,” said Wei Wuxian. ✦ A Civil Combpaign by Ariaste, lan wangji/wei wuxian & jin ling/lan sizhui & cast, 31k    “And,” said one of the pompous ministers, “there’s the matter of a marriage to consider as well!” Jin Ling, who at the beginning of that sentence had expected to slam into the very last wall of his patience and lose his temper entirely, paused. “A what?” ✦ Being Known by dragongirlG, lan wangji/wei wuxian & jin zixuan/jiang yanli & jiang cheng/wen qing & nie huaisang & wen ning & lan xichen & yu ziyuan & lan qiren & cast, 36.3k wip    Teenage Lan Wangji drunkenly confesses his lust for Wei Wuxian during the guest disciple lectures at the Cloud Recesses and wakes up betrothed to him by way of forehead ribbon. It all goes from there. ✦ heaven and earth as witness by scheherazade, lan wangji/wei wuxian & jiang cheng & jin ling & lan sizhui, 8.5k    Jin Ling has an emotional meltdown involving Lan Sizhui. Lan Wangji predictably overreacts. Somehow, it helps Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian finally have a conversation that they should have had years ago. THE UNTAMED/MO DAO ZU SHI RECS - SOMETIMES CASE FIC, SOMETIMES WANGXIAN FIC: ✦ grow by cafecliche, lan wangji/wei wuxian & lan sizhui & the juniors, case fic, de-aged, 14.4k    Or: Wei Wuxian is cursed on a night-hunt, and the junior quartet rapidly finds themselves in over their heads. ✦ Linger in the Sun by etymologyplayground, lan wangji/wei wuxian & jiang cheng & ocs & cast, 39.4k    Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji find themselves cursed, unable to see or hear each other. They figure things out anyway. THE UNTAMED/MO DAO ZU SHI RECS - WHEN I WASN’T LOOKING, I DEVELOPED NIE BROTHERS FEELINGS FIC: ✦ Pushover by nirejseki, nie huaisang & nie mingjue & lan xichen & jin guangyao & cast, 1.9k    Every once in a while, not often, people who know them well will say that Nie Mingjue lets Nie Huaisang walk all over him. That isn’t quite right. THE UNTAMED/MO DAO ZU SHI RECS - YOUR HONOR, HAVE YOU SEENA-YAO’S PRECIOUS FACE? - LAN XICHEN/JIN GUANGYAO FIC: ✦ half cloak & half dagger by Fahye, lan xichen/jin guangyao (& background wangxian), NSFW, 13.1k    Jin Guangyao lifts his head and smiles. "I’m considering a problem.” “Can I be of any assistance with it?” He drops a kiss on Lan Xichen’s chest. With the nail of one finger he lightly traces the characters for irony on Lan Xichen’s side. “Not this one, er-ge.” ✦ Hindsight by clockwork_spider, lan xichen/jin guangyao, ~1k    Three years after the incident at the GuanYin temple, Jin GuangYao and Nie MingJue’s coffin was unsealed and their corpses, depleted of resentful energy, were finally laid to rest, their spirits released. In his dream, Lan XiChen is visited by the spectre of his sworn brother. ✦ beyond reasons by welcome_equivocator, lan xichen/jin guangyao & lan wangji, 5.2k    “a-yao,” he says, and you are almost surprised to hear it, but he is still facing away from you, “i know about the music.” ✦ Spring Dawn 《 花落知多少 》 by iskendaris, lan xichen/jin guangyao & nie mingjue, modern au/reincarnation au, 4.5k    Meng Yao is given a second chance when he’s reincarnated. He doesn’t want a repeat of the past. However destiny has a way of interfering, and he finds himself working together with student president Lan Xichen?! Really, what is this fate?! ✦ Hold the Baby by Moonsheen, lan xichen/jin guangyao & jin zixuan/jiang yanli & lan wangji/wei wuxian & jiang cheng, 6.4k    A collection of shorts: In which a chance encounter and a fussing baby causes a slight change to Jin Guangyao’s MO. ✦ Ornament by syriala, lan xichen/jin guangyao & nie mingue & lan qiren, 1.6k    He starts to go into the bow again, and Lan Xichen intercepts his movement, stops him from bowing in a move that he might have learned from Nie Mingjue, and then his brain must short-circuit, because the only thought Lan Xichen has is that Meng Yao has the perfect height for forehead kisses. THE UNTAMED/MO DAO ZU SHI RECS - EVERY OTHER KIND OF FIC: ✦ fierce corpse Jin Zixuan by EHyde, jin zixuan/jiang yanli & jin ling & cast, 10.6k    Jin Zixuan died at Qiongqi Path. Then, Wei Wuxian brought him back. But what place does Koi Tower have for a fierce corpse? ✦ The Past Didn’t Go Anywhere by FairestCat, jiang cheng & wen qing & lan sizhui, 2.3k    There are rumours going around of a woman – a healer – travelling the countryside alone. Jiang Cheng needs to know if the rumours are true. ✦ If you only knew then (the things I only know now) by Nillegible, jiang fengmian/yu ziyuan & wei wuxian & jiang cheng & nie huaisang & lan wangji & & lan xichen & jin zixuan & cast, time travel (of a sort), 34.7k wip    Yu Ziyuan receives a warning, a letter in Jiang Cheng’s handwriting, familiar, though it seems to have evened out over long years of practice. This was from her child, but not. This Jiang Cheng, grown up in ways that it hurt to contemplate, had endured the death of his family, his Sect, and his soul. ✦ partly frozen, partly flowing by astrolesbian, lan wangji & lan xichen & lan qiren (& background wangxian), 4.9k    To discourage Lan Wangji from this idea would be to discourage him from loving, and Lan Xichen has always known that to be impossible. All he could do was nod as his brother looked at him, and finished, calmly, “Zewu-jun, I accept any punishment you see fit.” ✦ Delight in Misery by nirejseki, lan wangji & jiang cheng & lan sizhui & jin ling & lan xichen (&background wangxian), 17.4k wip    For the first time in his life, Lan Wangji didn’t want to go home. (what if he had another option?) ✦ into the light of a dark black night by dragongirlG, lan wangji & lan xichen & madam lan, 3k    On a snowy night in the dead of winter, Wu Yuhua, formerly known as Madam Lan, unexpectedly spends one last night with her sons before escaping from the Cloud Recesses. FULL DETAILS + RECS HERE