#he's so beautiful!!! he has stolen my heart once again

[laneboyheathens]

Glad I found you! I’ve been meaning to get into melshian. They’re a cute couple. Any recs?

Thank you for giving me this delightfully indulgent opportunity to gush about all of my favourite Melshian fics. Given I have read every (yes every) fic in the tag (and then some) and enjoyed ALL of them, I do encourage anyone to check out whatever piques their particular fancy, however, these are my favourites and some good starting points to 'get-into' the ship!

Melshian Fic Recs

The Boarders of Infinity 24k E

If you only read one fic on this list, it has to be The Boarders of Infinity by the talented @tellallthetruth-but-tellitslant Starting in Narkina 5 through to a canon divergent ending of Season 1, wobbly builds this wonderful and tender relationship between Melshi and Cassian. Funny, sexy and sad, I have come back to read this fic over and over (and its sequel The Warrior's Apprentices which includes my all time favourite line in Chapter 3).

Turn The Page 20k E

"When they meet after years apart, Melshi finds Andor has forgotten everything except him." Another wonderful and tender fic from wobbly, with a reunion, recovering from injury and amnesia Cassian, once again this one makes my heart ache.

Mirror 9K T

Another reunion fic that jumps back and forth between Yavin and post-Narkina/Niamos time. @faceofpoe succeeds in making me deeply melancholy as Cassian and Melshi toe the line between platonic and something more. The line “If I’m being entirely honest, I never really figured out how to do… any of this… again either.” has been stuck playing on a loop in my head since I first read this. Angsty, tender and bittersweet. (Another honourable faceofpoe fic has to be Double 3k G for beloved Melshi POV <3)

A Rock In The Water 9K M

Taste_is_Sweet is one of my favourite authors, and I deeply adore all of their Andor fics (One Bite at at Time is MY all time favourite). Set sometime before the events of Rogue One, Cassian receives some news while on a mission and takes it very badly. Heavy angst and heavy themes handled very well in a way that makes my heart hurt about them. TW Attempted Suicide

something beautiful 3k M

"Melshi loves Cassian; Cassian needs Melshi. All the way to the end." this is a very apt title because this fic really is something beautiful, the narrative construction and the poetic nature of love and need. And oh they are so doomed by the narrative (oh my god they were doomed by the narrative).

hope springs eternal 3K G

Missing scenes from Episode 11, featuring nerve damage, touch-starved Melshi, cuddling and hope. Very soft, tender and full of comfort, a really lovely Gen entry on this list.

Observer Effect 2k E

By the very talented @bright-thorn in which Melshi and Cassian overcome the limitations of prison life by having a long distance (six foot of electrified floor) relationship. With a angsty gut punch at the end that kills me every time.

The path will follow you 7k T

"Stationed on Dantooine a few years later, Private Melshi finds a part of his past converging with his future." I deeply enjoy each and every one of @p-paradoxa 's fics, but I keep coming back to this one. Reunions and farewells, reintroductions and "He could find his way back, but he couldn’t stay." <- losing my mind actually!!!

take these embers; burn with me 3k M

Melshi needs a haircut and is also No.1 Cassian Andor simp. So many excellent excellent Melshian tropes and headcanons in this one I adore it <3

Aller-Retour 4k T

@elwenyere is a wordsmith genius and has written many many of my favourite Melshian fics, but Aller-Retour holds a special place in my heart and on my re-read list. Comfort and stolen intimate moments, this really is everything I love about them as a ship (and they were doomed. oh my god they were doomed.)

Subsection: AUs

(it could be wrong) but it should have been right 6k E Omegaverse

@thevalleyisjolly *pointing* that is my very good friend who's fics I love and adore and who never fails to make me feel completely insane always and forever. AJ's Omegaverse AU of the time on Niamos is a wonderful, funny, and insightful exploration into agency, desire as an act of rebellion, the socio-economic implications of secondary sex/gender under Imperial rule. It's got it all! I highly recommend reading, even if Omegaverse isn't your usual cup of tea, this one is something special. (and if Jynmelshian floats your fancy What Is This Feeling? Is so so excellent I am gnawing on the doorframes shouting from the rooftops EVERYONE READ THIS!!!)

Pierce the Skin 71k (WIP) T Vampire AU

Another fic from Taste_is_Sweet which I devour with reverence every update because I am first and foremost an absolute angst loving goblin. Still set within the Andor timeline, Cassian and Melshi have a meet-ugly that almost kills them both, and then they keep meeting, again and again. Vampire AU my beloved, fundamentally changed my brain chemistry forever and I am constantly thinking about it.

Subsection: Life-Affirming Sexual Encounters

All of these hit a specific vibe of comfort and reclamation of self through sex, these bitches are touchstarved and I re-read these frequently.

Together, We Made It 3k E

meeting place 2k E

Shorelines 4k E

I would also be remiss not to mention that Whatever Happens Now: Melshian Zine comes out on 22nd April, with the theme reunions and farewells, and I will be absolutely going balls to the walls about all of the amazing fics that are soon to be dropping! @melshianzine

Thank you for the ask and for giving me the opportunity to gush about everyones work! This is by no means an exhaustive list, and every other fic in the tag is excellent and I hope you all know I cherish each and every one of them <3

[faerenjun]

(⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄‸o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝)੭ ♡

[morganaawriterr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ I could never hate you;

Pairing; fem!reader x nishimura riki Warnings; Suggestive but very very angsty Words; 3.278 Synopsis: When Niki returns to his parents’ countryside home, memories of a past love resurface, along with the regret of losing you. Despite his rising fame and a new girlfriend, Niki can’t escape the feelings he still has for you. As tensions mount, both of you are forced to face the unresolved emotions from your past relationship. Amid stolen glances and painful confrontations, Niki must decide whether to fight for the love he once had or move on, knowing that the weight of his mistakes might be too much to overcome. A story of love, regret, and second chances. My Masterlist;

A/N; Sorry for breaking your heart but I've been having a rough few days and had to let it out somehow haha. Jokes aside, I hope you like reading this, likes and comments are always appreciated, thank you so so much! All the love I've been receiving is just... thank you guys :(

As Niki stepped inside the familiar house, memories overwhelmed him. He vividly recalled the first time he visited his parents' new home in the Japanese countryside. It was a spacious house, tastefully decorated and equipped with the latest appliances. The backyard featured a pool and a small garden for growing crops. His mom took pride in eating the vegetables she had cultivated herself.

Niki felt genuinely happy for his parents—they had finally achieved their dream of living in a tranquil environment. He felt even prouder knowing he had contributed to the house's cost. Secretly, he loved it too: escaping the noise of the cities and enjoying a restful night’s sleep in his serene bedroom.

He also remembered you. You were one year older than him, kind and thoughtful. The first time he saw you was on his eighteenth birthday, when you delivered something to his mom.

There you were, carrying two boxes of eggs. He could still picture the way your dark brown hair framed your shoulders and your shy smile as you handed the eggs to his mom. He didn’t know your name, your age… nothing. All he knew was that you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

Niki glanced around the living room and inhaled deeply, the familiar aroma of his mom's cooking filling the air. Letting go of all his worries, he rushed to the kitchen, where his mom was busy preparing his favorite meal.

“Mom!” Niki called softly, hugging her from behind and resting his head on top of hers. He had longed for her motherly affection.

“Riki, you’ve grown even more!” she said, her voice full of emotion as she admired her son. “Sit down. I’ve been cooking just for you!” she added warmly, heading to the fridge to grab more food for him.

Niki ate in silence, his heart brimming with love as he savored the delicious meal his mom had prepared. He had missed it all—the food, the house, the quietness.

Later, as he helped his mother wash the dishes and chatted about his bandmates, the doorbell rang. His mom jumped slightly, glanced at the door, and then at Niki. She removed her wet gloves and looked at him again.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” she said gently, her hands softly caressing his face in a soothing gesture. Niki tried not to dwell on it and continued with the dishes. He finished quickly, but as he walked upstairs, he heard his mom’s voice from afar, accompanied by someone else’s.

A sudden pang in Niki’s chest made him pause and take a deep breath. His body recognized the other voice before his mind could. He missed her. He tried to ignore it and went upstairs to his room, where he threw himself onto the bed and closed his eyes.

His phone lit up with a notification. As he picked it up, his wallpaper caught his eye. It was a selfie from his girlfriend, taken when Niki had asked her to be with him. She had long blonde hair, caramel-colored eyes, and a gentle smile. She was sweet, pretty, and entirely unaware of how Niki couldn’t stop thinking about you. He told himself it wasn’t his fault. When he was in Korea with his bandmates, it was easy to forget you. You weren’t there to remind him of your tender smile or your soothing voice.

But when he talked to his parents, you always seemed to come up in some way. You lived just a few roads away in a stone house surrounded by a farm. Your family worked tirelessly, tending to the animals and crops. They were beloved in the town for their produce at the local farmers' market, and Niki’s parents were no exception. His mom couldn’t get enough of the eggs and fruits your parents sold, while his dad often visited your farm to learn about raising chickens, hoping to start his own small flock.

Riki shoved the phone under his pillow and shut his eyes again, praying a nap might help. But as he reached for the covers, your voice rang out once more, clearer this time. He stood and wandered to the window, spotting you waving goodbye to his mom.

You looked different. Your hair had grown longer, now dyed a deep bluish-black, cascading in soft waves down your back. You seemed fuller, your figure more mature and hypnotizing. The curves of your body highlighted how much time had passed since he’d last seen you. As he observed you, your eyes met his.

Had your eyes always carried so much sadness? he wondered. They hadn’t been like this before—now they were empty and cold. He broke the connection quickly, already regretting getting up. Retreating to his bed, he pulled the covers over himself, wishing you’d leave him in peace, if only in his dreams.

A soft knock at his bedroom door stirred him from his thoughts. He glanced over lazily as the door creaked open, revealing his father, who stepped inside and sat down beside him on the bed.

“Hello, son. How was the drive?” his father asked gently as Ni-ki sat up, still groggy.

“It was fine. I was starving, but Mom already had plenty of food waiting for me,” he replied, his yawn betraying his lingering exhaustion.

“I have something to tell you,” his father began, his tone turning serious. Niki straightened up, now more alert. “I invited Y/N over for dinner. She’s been helping your mother with the crops, and we wanted to show our appreciation… In my defense, I forgot you were arriving this afternoon. I thought you’d come later tonight—”

“Dad,” Riki interrupted, “it’s fine. You don’t need to act like she’s a ghost. I’m okay.” Ni-ki lied, hating how much his parents knew about his feelings for you. His father studied him closely, reading his expression with ease.

“Are you sure you’re alright? She’ll be here soon,” his father said kindly, clearly trying to gauge his son’s comfort.

“I’m not hungry,” Riki muttered, avoiding his father’s gaze and shifting his focus to the window. “I ate a lot when I got here. I’ll just… sleep,” he added, hoping the subtle hint would stop his father from pressing further.

“Alright,” his dad replied, offering a gentle smile as he stood and quietly closed the door behind him.

Niki exhaled sharply, frustrated by the tension now lingering in his once-safe haven. He closed his eyes, determined to rest, but memories of the last time you’d been in his room refused to leave him…

You sat on his lap, his oversized t-shirt swallowing your smaller body. Your hair framed your face in soft waves, and your cheeks were flushed a deep pink. Your hands cupped his jaw, fingers brushing over his warm skin. He was shirtless, dressed only in black sweatpants.

“I hope you stay as sweet as you’ve always been…” you murmured, a soft smile lighting up your face as your fingers glided across his cheeks. Ni-ki was preparing to leave for Korea again to focus on his career; Enhypen was finally gaining the recognition they’d worked so hard for.

“Come with me,” Ni-ki pleaded for the fifth time. “I could probably get you a job at Hybe. Maybe you could start as an assistant in the graphic design department and work your way up. You’re so talented, I—” His words dissolved as your lips silenced him with a gentle, lingering kiss.

“I… will… be here… waiting… for you,” you whispered between kisses, your voice firm yet tender, trying to make him forget about the idea of taking you away. You knew your family relied on you to manage the farm’s administrative side—the vital work that kept everything running smoothly.

Ni-ki stared into your deep brown eyes, his hair falling across his forehead as your hands cradled his face again. He was so attractive, so carefree, and so utterly in love with you. Your cheeks burned, your lips glistened from his kisses, and he couldn’t help the fiery desire growing inside him. His hands traced up and down your bare thighs, as though trying to memorize every inch of you.

You rested your head against his chest, savoring the heat of his touch as his hands wandered gently over your skin.

“Ni-ki…” you whispered, your voice soft as your eyes met his. In that moment, nothing else existed—just the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other.

Ni-ki regretted that night. He regretted not making you his. He regretted giving himself to the girl he now called his girlfriend. He regretted it because deep down, he knew you were the only one who’d ever stirred these feelings within him. Maybe it was love, but he had been too scared to name it.

Back in the present, Ni-ki tossed and turned in bed, unable to find comfort. You were downstairs, eating dinner and laughing with his parents, while he lay upstairs, lost in memories, wishing things had turned out differently. Like a coward.

You had ended it, but he knew the blame was his. He’d been too weak to break things off, so he let you take the burden—ignoring your calls and texts for days, going out with his friends, drinking until he could forget, and kissing someone else. It had been just a fleeting moment, but one he regretted immediately. Everyone had known he messed up. The silence from his friends spoke volumes...

“Mom,” Ni-ki called softly as he entered the kitchen, where you and his parents sat eating. His mom shot to her feet, concern flashing across her face as she realized what was coming. She glanced at you briefly, and you responded with a forced smile.

Ni-ki stood in the doorway, his black hair falling over his eyes as usual. He wore a loose T-shirt and sweatpants. His gaze landed on you, seated beside his mom, across from his dad. Your hair was tied in a messy ponytail, and you wore a simple black top. But your eyes—those deep brown irises—looked darker than he’d ever seen them, filled with hurt and emptiness.

“Hey,” he said quietly, trying to sound nonchalant.

You offered a thin, artificial smile, your voice almost breaking as you said, “Hey, Riki.” You avoided his gaze, focusing on your plate as you tried to finish your rice. Ni-ki’s chest tightened at the sound of your voice.

“Is there something you need, sweetie?” his mom asked, concern evident in her tone.

“I’m hungry. Can I sit down and eat?” Ni-ki asked, his voice barely audible, searching for a reason to stay. His mom glanced at his dad, who answered cautiously.

“Of course, son. Sit down,” his dad said.

An uneasy silence settled over the table. Ni-ki’s unexpected appearance after claiming he wasn’t hungry left everyone confused. Dinner continued, but the tension was almost unbearable. He stole glances at you now and then, the longing in his chest growing stronger, but each time your eyes met his, he quickly looked away.

“Y/N, darling, could you go pick a watermelon from the garden? You always know how to pick the best ones!” Ni-ki’s dad said warmly.

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, managing a small smile as you got up to leave.

Outside, the warm breeze brushed your face, but it offered no comfort. Tears welled up and spilled down your cheeks. You tried to suppress the sobs, the knot in your throat tightening painfully. Quickly, you wiped your face and focused on selecting a watermelon wanting to just get this over with. But as you turned to head back inside, you saw Ni-ki leaning against the doorframe.

You thought about walking past him, but then his hand touched your shoulder—warm and familiar.

“Can we talk?” Ni-ki asked, his voice low and raspy. You took a deep breath, turning to face him. His tall frame loomed over you, his presence so close that you could feel his breath on your skin.

“Maybe we should,” you said coolly, trying to maintain your composure. You set the watermelon down and sat on the small step between the garden and the house. Ni-ki followed, sitting beside you.

He couldn’t meet your eyes. Shame and anxiety clouded his face. His hands fidgeted in his lap, and you noticed it. You could see how much he’d changed—his sharper features, his thinner frame, his longer hair. He’d grown so much over the past year, and you hadn’t been there to witness it.

“I want to say I’m sorry,” Ni-ki began, his voice thick with regret. “I never meant to hurt you. I don’t know why I acted the way I did, and I know it doesn’t make it right. I should never have kissed her, not when I was with you.”

“That wasn’t what hurt me the most,” you said, your voice trembling as tears threatened to fall again. You lifted your head to look at him, struggling to hold yourself together. “What hurt was how you ignored me for days, and when you finally did acknowledge it, you wouldn’t let me speak. I was ready to forgive you, Ni-ki. I wanted to, so badly…”

Ni-ki heard the crack in your voice and turned to face you. He saw the tears sliding down your cheeks, each one a testament to the pain he’d caused. That sight broke him the most. You—his anchor, the one who had always been there for him—were crying because of him.

“I couldn’t face you after that,” he whispered, lifting a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You leaned into his palm, finding comfort in his touch, but it no longer felt the same.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You wanted to tell him how much you missed him, how your sister had grown up and found a boyfriend. You wanted to hold him, kiss him, but it didn’t feel right—not after everything that had happened.

“How are the boys?” you asked, breaking the silence. Ni-ki’s face brightened slightly.

“They’re good! We’ve been working hard and promoting a lot. People are starting to take us seriously,” he said with a flicker of pride. “Oh, and Jake bought a new collar for Layla. It’s adorable!” He pulled out his phone to show you, but as the screen lit up, her face appeared as his wallpaper.

Riki froze, glancing at you and noticing your expression shift from curiosity to sadness.

“This is Sun Yeon, my girlfriend…” he said softly, almost apologetically.

“Good for you,” you replied coldly, standing up. Dusting off your jeans, you turned to head back inside. “Let’s just pretend we’re friends so your parents don’t keep walking on eggshells around us.”

Ni-ki stood up and grabbed your wrist, stopping you from opening the door. Slowly, he pulled you toward him, trying to make you face him, but you couldn’t. Tears you had kept hidden for so long began to fall freely, dripping down your cheeks like rain. Your heart ached as if it were being crushed.

“Don’t say that…” Ni-ki whispered, bending down to lift your chin, gently forcing you to meet his eyes. Your face was flushed from crying—cheeks, nose, and lips painted in a deep cherry red.

“What am I supposed to say, huh?” you snapped suddenly, pushing him away. Embarrassed by the tears you couldn’t stop, you struggled to regain control. “Congrats on getting over me so quickly? I hope you have a great life with her?” you yelled, shoving him backwards with force. “Does it feel good to know that, even after a year, I still care about you, and you’re with someone else? Does it feel good knowing I still love you while you love someone else?” you shouted, standing on tiptoes to meet his gaze.

“NO!” Ni-ki yelled back, startling you and making you stumble. “I FEEL LIKE SHIT EVERY SINGLE DAY. I REGRET WHAT I DID CONSTANTLY,” he roared, his eyes locked onto yours as he backed you into the outside wall. “I started dating her to distract myself from you. And it worked for a while, but every time I see you or hear your voice, the guilt is so heavy it makes me sick to my stomach.”

“Then why didn’t you contact me after I said we were over?” you asked quietly, your knees weakening from the closeness between you. “I waited for you every single day…” you confessed, your gaze locked with his. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks, and you instinctively reached out to wipe them away.

“I thought you hated me…” he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours as his hand reached up to caress your cheek.

“I could never hate you, Riki,” you replied with a sad smile, more tears streaming down your face.

That was when Ni-ki lost control. He couldn’t bear it anymore. He had to show you how much he missed you. Without another thought, he leaned in and kissed you.

It started as a gentle peck, a test. When you pulled him closer, his heart raced—he knew you were giving him permission for more. His lips crashed into yours, urgent and hungry. You slid your tongue across his lips, deepening the kiss. But Ni-ki didn’t let you take control. Instead, he wrapped his muscular arms around your waist, pulling you tightly against him.

A surprised moan escaped your lips, and Ni-ki used the opportunity to deepen the kiss further. His tongue danced with yours in a passionate battle for dominance. The kiss was fierce, filled with hunger and longing. Minutes passed as the two of you devoured each other’s lips until you finally pulled away to breathe. Your lips were swollen and glistening as if coated in an expensive gloss.

Ni-ki gazed into your eyes, as though unable to believe you were there with him again. He kissed your entire face with passion, then moved down to your neck, biting and kissing the soft skin there. The scent of your sweet perfume overwhelmed his senses. His long hair brushed against your skin, and suddenly, reality struck you.

“Ni-ki…” you called breathlessly, trying to push him away. But his lips stayed glued to your neck. “Riki, this isn’t right. You have a girlfriend,” you said more firmly, pushing him away.

The truth hit him like a brick.

“I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have happened,” Ni-ki murmured, guilt consuming him once more. Even though he wanted you, and even though you wanted him, Sun didn’t deserve to be treated this way just because he couldn’t figure himself out.

“Maybe we should never see each other again,” you said coldly, anger bubbling inside you.

Ni-ki’s face fell, and he reached for you, grabbing your wrist.

“No, wait—Y/N,” he called, his voice desperate as he realized he’d made another mistake. “I didn’t mean it like that! I love you. Please,” Ni-ki pleaded as you started walking toward the house, ready to leave.

“No, you don’t. You don’t even know what you want. You don’t know anything!” you yelled without looking back.

“I’ll break up with her,” he said urgently, grabbing your hand just as you turned away. “I love you. Please, don’t leave…”

You froze, the weight of his words sinking in. Slowly, you turned to face him, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Tell your parents I had to go and that I won’t be able to come here for a while. Goodbye, Riki,” you said, your heart breaking at your own words. Tears slipped down your cheeks as you walked away.

Ni-ki stood there, his heart heavy. But he wasn’t about to let you go. He couldn’t lose you again.

Taglist; @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay If you want to be added or taken off the taglist, just let me know!

[grimmsbride]

would you be willing to write for daisuke and a chubby fem reader... can be fluff or nsfw hcs idc either way I love he sm and your writing for him is perfect 😭😭😭 if not feel free to ignore :) have a great day !!

FOR HER [ daisuke x chubby!reader | hcs ]

fluff & nsfw headcanons surrounding daisuke and his lovely, chubby lover

tags / mentions of soft dom & sub daisuke | fluff mostly | ooc characters | reader is depicted as chubby & adoring stretch marks | jimmy being a piece of shit | daisuke being insensitive like once | etc.

notes / when ever i write i always try to depict reader as chubby it warms my little heart. & i’m so happy you requested this- i’ve been trying to avoid headcanons but this ask was too good to pass up! & i’m so happy i got a request! ty sm anon <3 as always please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes i’m low-key half awake

FLUFF

- First off I firmly believe Daisuke is fluid in what he likes, which also means the size of his partner. I genuinely think he wouldn’t care how “big or small” they are, as personality is something he’s after.

- But your beautiful appearance was of course a plus.

- You were an intern under Anya, meaning you frequently came into contact with Daisuke. Whether it be him lightly injuring himself or you conducting an evaluation ( under the guidance of your mentor ) the two of you have grown to get along, your age & mutual interests being a factor.

- Slowly though, that affection grows romantic as time passed. I mean, Daisuke’s a young adult trapped on a ship with a beautiful woman his age— how could he not fall for her?

- It doesn’t help he’s obvious as hell to the other crew mates. Always staring at you or after you, quick to greet you each morning, glancing at you when a joke is passed just to hear your sweet laughter. Daisuke is enthralled and it’s not surprise to anyone — except you.

- Maybe you’re naive, maybe focused on your tasks? Maybe you just failed to notice. Either way, you were a little more than clueless to his lingering feelings.

- Even when he’s sharing his stolen sweetener, allowing you to play on his game boy, or even being rather touchy — hugs & accidental grazes — you’re truly lost to what he wants.

- Only when Daisuke accidentally lets out a “God, I’m in love with you..” when you beat a level on his game did you catch a single clue.

- From then on the two of you begin your relationship, Daisuke all to eager show his love for you. Always close to you, checking in on you when he can, even sharing food when he realizes you hadn’t had a break — he’s a doting partner no matter what.

- Daisuke also likes to give you that gaudy shirt he wears when he can, feeling just a tad bit a pride when you wear his clothes — even if it’s a little tight, he doesn’t care.

- Though once Jimmy does make the off chance about you “stretching out the boy’s clothes” which makes you a little reluctant to wear them again.

- Daisuke is quick to shut that down though, declaring even if you purposely ripped it to shreds he truly wouldn’t care— a shirt really means nothing compared to you.

- From that point on Daisuke makes it a habit to compliment you, your size, everything. He doesn’t care, but realizing you do fuels such behavior. At times his compliments are questionable but his loving face surely makes up for it.

- “You’re so big and perfect, [Name].”

- “Daisuke… [sigh].. thank you.”

- After work and showering Daisuke always makes his way to your room to cuddle, alternating between little spoon and big spoon. When he’s big spoon he’s usually closest to the door, tugging you right against his chest and laying his face into your neck. He likes to whisper tiny thoughts he has or even a simply “I love you” once in a while. Sometimes you have to tell him to quiet down from how sleepy you’re getting.

- If you’re big spoon Daisuke’s face is definitely in your chest. Like.. right against it, arms wrapped around your waist so you don’t move. Sometimes you complain; scared he can’t breathe, but he’s quick to shake his head— basically declaring he’s fine.

- During that though, Daisuke may just shake his head a little too much— which causes you to playfully flick him for the perverted behavior.

NSFW

- Covering yourself up won’t really fly with Daisuke as his hands are everywhere. Grabbing your thighs, breasts, stomach, anywhere and everywhere— he isn’t turned off in the slightest by the extra meat or marks lining your hips. He quite likes tracing them with his thumbs whenever he’s deep inside you, pressing into the indents whenever he’s close.

- Daisuke isn’t the best with words but if he notices you are insecure, he is happy to reassure that you are perfect to him through actions.

- A not so secret, dirty secret; he would probably want you to smother him. Like, full weight on his face with him eating you out. Is it logical? No, but when it comes to you — in a sexual setting — the man is thinking with his dick rather than his mind.

- “Su.. I’m going to squash you.”

- Daisuke is shaking his head rapidly in response, on his knees in front of you and practically pleading.

- “Please, please! Even if I die it’s the best way to go!” Or some nonsense like that. With more coaxing you eventually give in, of course making him promise he’ll deliver two firm pats to your thigh if it’s too much.

- Having you above him, smothered in your wetness, plump ass on his chest— well.. he’s coming untouched. Hands gripping your hips so fucking tightly he’s leaving his own marks, moaning right into your cunt, whilst his hips are left to hump the air.

- And if you praise him? Oh his eyes are rolling back, completely drunk going as far as whimpering right into your sex

- Even when you’re finished the man doesn’t let you up until he’s satisfied, which isn’t until you’re practically whining for overstimulation. But once he’s done you’re quickly hopping off him, assuring he’s fine and not in pain.

- Sure, Daisuke’s neck hurts just a little back — which he blames on work when questioned by Anya — but like he said, it was totally worth it.

- Moving on, between Daisuke being able to lift himself in the vent ( and through it while injured ) + being on the baseball team, I like to think he’s strong in his own right. Not ridiculously strong, but strong enough.

- And by that I mean he’s not at all phased with moving you how he wishes. He’s gentle yet firm, pressing you into positions, turning you into others— when you let him take the lead he takes care of you, making you forget your size entirely.

- Daisuke also seems like the type to purposely grow stronger just to ease your worries — which to him are silly —.

- Speaking of positions, Daisuke purposely doesn’t do doggy unless it’s a quickie— simply because watching you from behind like that; ass and thighs rippling with each thrust, he’s coming in seconds. He’s always embarrassed and you have the tendency to tease him about it, much to his dismay.

- Lastly if you’re a particularly dominant person he’s all for it. Yes, let him lean back into your soft body whilst you jerk him off— he’s palpable and completely yours to play with.

- The man especially likes wrapping his lips around your nipple while you jerk him, followed by your soft words. Ranging between praises and teasing remarks; Daisuke is coming in seconds.

- Or having you ride him is even better, seeing you in all your glory like that is enough to push him over the edge.

- Truthfully though Daisuke seems like the type to handle a chubby partner in more ways then one.

[godricgryffinsnore]

I HAVE ANOTHER REQUEST FOR YOUUUU IF YOU FEEL SO INCLINED 🥰

i’m imagining bestfriend!remus x reader paired together in potions brewing amortentia. and reader is internally like, oh that’s funny it kinda smells like him. omg wait no it REALLY smells like him. and she has this whole silent epiphany that it’s always been remus

and remus is standing right there, maybe having the same realization in his own mind

up to you if you wanna write a confession scene too!! i’ll devour anything you post 🩷🩷

It's Always Been You ♡ : A Remus Lupin Fan Fiction.

pairing : Remus Lupin x bestfriend!reader

summary : A slow-burn, best-friends-to-lovers tale where a simple potions class reveals long-buried feelings, leaving two hearts fumbling through confusion, warmth, and the undeniable pull of something that’s always been there.

warnings : Extreme fluff, Best friends-to-lovers tension, soft, tender confession, shy, vulnerable Remus. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

Word Count : 2k

main master list <3

della's note : I think I got a little carried away while writing, cause this request really made me imagine the soft banter and shy Remus things. I loved writing for this, you know? Again, I really hope this reaches your expectations, Sunny. You are an angel. Thank you for sending me this request, beautiful. @sunflowersonatas

banner : @anitalenia and @roseschoices

The dungeon is heavy with steam and candlelight, the golden glow smearing over the stone walls in syrupy ribbons. The cauldrons bubble lazily, swirling with pale lilac and silver, exhaling slow plumes of fragrant steam. The faint clatter of glass and mortar hums in the background, but you barely hear it over the dull roar in your ears.

Because your potion smells like Remus. And it’s really starting to freak you out.

At first, it’s nothing more than a brush of familiarity—a vague scent clinging faintly to the rising mist. Something warm and faintly sweet. Familiar, but not immediately recognizable.

You lean over the cauldron slightly, inhaling again.

And this time, it hits you square in the chest.

Wool scarves and firewood. The faint trace of chocolate he always carries in his pocket. The sharp, smoky sweetness of clove lingering on his cardigan. The paper-and-ink scent of the library corner he always claims.

Oh. Oh, Merlin. You stir the cauldron again, blinking rapidly.

Your fingers tighten around the wooden spoon. No. No, no, no.

Because surely this is a coincidence. A fluke. Surely amortentia isn’t sitting here, mocking you with the exact scent of your best friend. The boy you’ve known since you were practically children. The one whose worn-out jumpers you’ve stolen without thinking twice. The one whose voice is stitched into the fabric of your every memory.

You glance at him, pulse stuttering violently. And then you see it.

The faint crease between his brows. The subtle parting of his lips. The way his hands have completely stilled around the mortar. His knuckles flex once, then twice, gripping the stone edge a little too tightly.

Oh, Merlin. He smells you too.

His eyes are wide, a little frantic, his jaw slackened with dawning realization. His breath leaves him in a faint, uneven exhale, eyes flickering uncertainly between you and the cauldron.

Neither of you move.

You are absolutely going to throw up.

Your heart slams so violently against your ribs you’re almost certain the entire classroom can hear it. You stare at him, mortified, blinking like you might somehow wake yourself from this slow-motion nightmare.

Remus stares back.

And then— Because the universe is cruel and spiteful— Your professor’s voice cuts through the haze.

“Lovely work, you two,” Slughorn beams fondly, leaning over your cauldron. “Such a perfect shade of pearl—textbook, really. Five points to Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Keep it up.”

He wanders off without another word, and you and Remus remain exactly as you are: paralyzed, stiff as corpses, faces slightly flushed, and looking very much like you’ve both been slapped with a Beater’s bat.

You exhale sharply, finally breaking the stare, trying to focus on your hands.

Which is, apparently, the exact moment Sirius Black and James Potter decide to materialize at your table.

Sirius appears first, leaning his entire weight over Remus’s shoulder, nearly sending him face-first into the cauldron. “Fancy that,” he drawls, dramatically squinting into the shimmering steam. “If my nose isn’t mistaken—which, let’s be honest, it never is—this rather smells like the entire essence of Lupin himself.”

Remus shoots him a look of absolute, bone-deep betrayal.

James, not to be outdone, slides in beside you, draping an arm over your shoulder like he’s known you for a decade longer than he actually has. “Fascinating,” he muses, inhaling deeply with exaggerated theatrics. “I dunno, Pads, but I’m getting a whiff of something quite reminiscent of our Moony. Could be my imagination. But—” he inhales again, obnoxiously loud, “—nope. Definitely smells like our dear Remus. Weird.”

You gape at him, scandalized. “Potter.”

“Moony,” Sirius grins, leaning heavily into Remus, who is now pale and glaring daggers into the middle distance, clearly rethinking every life choice that led him to this moment. “You wouldn’t happen to have been brewing a love potion with your favorite person in the entire world, would you? Surely not.”

James makes a mock gasp, gripping your shoulder with faux devastation. “Merlin’s beard. Do you think—? No. No, they wouldn’t. They couldn’t.” He shakes his head, eyes wide. “There’s simply no way that the two of you have been pining like lovesick, moronic sheep for years, only to have this very public, very embarrassing epiphany during a school-sanctioned activity. Right?”

You want the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

You shove James off your shoulder, your face practically molten. “Get out.”

“Now, now.” Sirius raises both hands, grinning wolfishly. “I’m just saying—this is awfully convenient. Almost like it’s been... planned.” His grin widens, sharp and dangerous, eyes glinting. “Planned, James.”

You blink. Remus blinks.

And then it hits you.

“Oh, you didn’t,” Remus says flatly, voice low with warning.

James and Sirius exchange a slow, self-satisfied look. “Oh, we did,” James confirms.

You stare at them, blinking dumbly. “You—you had a bet?”

Sirius clutches his chest dramatically, grinning like a madman. “Oh, darling, not just a bet. The bet.” He levels you both with a self-satisfied smirk. “Fifty galleons. That’s how long we’ve been watching you two idiots make heart-eyes at each other from across the common room.”

Remus lets out a soft, strangled noise of betrayal. “Fifty?”

James shrugs, far too smug. “To be fair, Peter thought it would happen last Christmas, so he’s out.”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter, burying your face in your hands.

Sirius claps Remus on the back with far too much force, nearly sending him into you. “Cheer up, Moony. You finally got the girl. And you won us fifty galleons.”

“Fifty galleons I fully intend to spend on chocolate,” James adds, glancing at Remus with mock pity. “Sorry, mate. You were the last to know.”

Remus mutters something incoherent beneath his breath and promptly drops his forehead onto your shoulder, grumbling softly into the fabric of your robe.

And you—because you love him, because you always have—simply grin into his hair, fingers softly threading through it, quietly grateful that, for once, they were right.

── .✦

The dungeon is still thick with steam and the faint, honeyed glow of candlelight when Sirius and James finally make their grand exit, cackling like lunatics and loudly debating which Honeydukes chocolate is worthy of their newly won fifty galleons.

They leave the two of you behind—flushed, mortified, and still reeling.

For a long moment, neither of you speak. The dungeon hums faintly around you—the bubbling of forgotten cauldrons, the distant scrape of chairs, the murmur of students packing up their things. It all feels muffled somehow—far away and unimportant.

Because he’s still holding your hand. And you’re still holding his.

His fingers are warm and slightly calloused, trembling faintly where they’re laced between yours. You feel his thumb—slow, barely perceptible—brush ever so lightly along the inside of your wrist.

And you know he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

You glance at him cautiously. His eyes are fixed somewhere on the table, pointedly not looking at you. His face is flushed, faint pink crawling steadily over his cheekbones, dusting the tips of his ears. His throat works around a faint swallow.

You exhale softly, your voice barely above a murmur. “Remus.”

His eyes snap up at the sound of his name. And oh.

The moment your gaze meets his, something in your chest caves violently.

Because his eyes—those soft, golden eyes—are wide and unguarded, darkened slightly with something tender and unfamiliar, something almost fragile. His lashes flutter slightly, gaze flickering between your lips and your eyes like he’s already memorizing the distance.

He looks at you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky.

And suddenly, you don’t think you can breathe properly.

His lips part slightly, but he says nothing at first—his throat bobbing with an uneven swallow. When he speaks, his voice is low and unsteady, a little breathless, as though he’s only just found it.

“I, um…” He clears his throat softly, but it doesn’t help. His voice is still rough, still trembling faintly. His eyes flicker to where your hands are still laced, then back to your face, and he lets out a weak, breathless laugh. “I—I’m, um. Not very good at this, you know.”

You watch him—his eyes so unsure, so vulnerable—as though he’s bracing for you to step back. As though he’s already preparing himself for the possibility that you might let go.

You tighten your grip instead.

His lips part slightly at the gesture, eyes flashing briefly with something startled—something helpless and adoring. His breath catches.

And then, in a voice so soft and hesitant you almost miss it, he murmurs, “But it’s always been you.”

Your breath hitches.

His eyes flicker downward, his hand tightening faintly around yours like he’s afraid you might slip through his fingers. His voice is barely a breath.

“I—I didn’t even know when it started.” He lets out a faint, shaky laugh—wet and self-conscious. “Maybe it was the first time you fell asleep on my shoulder in the library. Or—or when you hexed that Slytherin who called me a monster in third year.” His lips twitch faintly, voice softening. “Or maybe it was the time you made me that ridiculous scarf for Christmas—the one with the crooked stitches that you insisted was ‘fashionably uneven.’”

You let out a breathless laugh, your eyes burning with warmth.

His fingers tighten faintly around yours, trembling slightly. His eyes—soft and uncertain and so very full—lift slowly to yours, his voice dropping to nothing more than a whisper.

“But I know now.” His throat works faintly, voice hoarse. “I know because—because it hurts to look at you sometimes. Like—like it’s too much. Like you’re sunlight and I can’t stop staring, even when it burns.”

Your chest constricts violently.

His voice shakes slightly when he exhales. “And I—I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to lose you. You’re my best friend.” His lips twitch faintly, but the smile is weak—sad around the edges. “And I was terrified. Terrified that if you knew—if you ever knew—it would ruin everything.”

He exhales shakily, voice so soft it’s almost pleading. “But I can’t—” His breath catches. “I can’t not say it anymore.”

Your lips part slightly, your breath stalling, but he keeps going—because he has to—because if he doesn’t get it out now, he’s afraid he never will.

“I love you,” he whispers, voice breaking slightly on the words, raw and breathless. His eyes squeeze shut for half a second before fluttering open again—vulnerable and wide, searching yours. “I love you. I—I think I’ve loved you forever.”

You stare at him—his wide, trembling eyes, the faint flush blooming high on his cheekbones, the subtle, terrified way his fingers tighten around yours—and you wonder how you ever thought he was anything less than devastating.

Your breath catches violently in your throat. And then, you kiss him.

You lean forward suddenly—without thinking, without breathing—and press your lips to his, desperate and unsteady and so terribly sure.

He makes a faint, startled sound against your mouth—a sharp inhale, almost a gasp—but then he’s kissing you back with everything he has, hands coming up to cradle your face, trembling and reverent.

His lips are warm and gentle, tasting faintly of chocolate, moving against yours like he’s afraid to break you. You feel his hand trembling faintly against your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with unbearable gentleness.

And when you finally break apart, you’re both breathless—foreheads pressed together, chests heaving faintly.

You blink at him, eyes glassy with warmth. “You’re such an idiot,” you whisper softly, breathless and laughing.

His lips twitch faintly, breath escaping in a trembling laugh. “I know.”

You let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, brushing your nose against his, your eyes still half-lidded and glowing with warmth. “I love you too, you absolute idiot.”

And oh— The way he breaks at your words.

His eyes flutter shut, breath hitching audibly, and he exhales faintly against your mouth, voice cracking softly when he whispers, “You do?”

You nod, laughing faintly, your fingers threading softly through his hair. “Always,” you murmur. “Always.”

And this time, when he kisses you, it’s slow and lingering, sweeter than anything you’ve ever known. His hands cradle your face like you’re something fragile and holy—something he intends to hold forever.

And in that moment, you know— You always have.

[haerenven]

Can you do something with Shanks being super flirty with a reader a little older than him and he thinks that he's got her in the bag, in love with him, because she smiles and looks happy when he's near; even blushing with glee when he brings her something. Then he like overhears her talking about him and it turns out she just thinks of him as really cute. Like she thinks of him as a puppy running to her excitedly, doing tricks to impress, or bringing things for her and thats the actual reason why she's always happy to see him and reacts that way.

        ㅤ٬ ⚠︎̸̸̸̸ ⠀⠀⠀ Red White ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀⸺⠀ .໑⠀⠀٫

Pairings. Red-haired shanks x fem!reader

summary. Oh say it Ditto

— (a/n): I wrote this based on the idea that Shanks is a rookie pirate in my imagination. I felt that he would be like a love-sick puppy when he was in his twenties.

⠀⠀ㅤㅤ٬ ⊹ ⠀『 ⠀ 私が作った ⠀』 ⠀⠀𝐈𝐈  ˓  ୭ ⠀⠀⠀

Shanks, young and brimming with charm, believes he has a certain effect on women. He’s not just confident—he’s reckless with it. His smile, boyish yet devil-may-care, is a weapon he wields shamelessly, and when it comes to her—his crewmate who’s a little older, a little sharper, a little more refined—oh, he’s convinced she’s falling, hard. She always seems happy when he’s around. That alone is proof, isn’t it?

He buys things just for her. Trinkets from islands they stop at, exotic fabrics, jewelry that glints like stolen sunlight. He presses them into her hands, watching with barely concealed satisfaction as her eyes brighten, as her lips part in a delighted smile, as—ah, there it is—a blush dusts her cheeks. He brings gifts with the confidence of a man who knows he’s winning, a rare fruit, a delicately carved comb, a perfectly smooth shell. She takes them gently, fingers brushing his in a way that must mean something. It has to.

He teases, endlessly. “You’re too beautiful to be a pirate. Someone’s going to steal you away if you’re not careful, you know?” And she laughs, always laughs, shaking her head, never once telling him to stop. He’s always near, leaning against the mast beside her, close enough that his shoulder barely brushes hers, sliding into the seat across from her with a grin, wine in hand, ready to be the only thing she pays attention to. And when he’s away? He rushes back like an eager dog, gifts in tow, stories on his lips, expecting her to melt like she always does.

One evening, he lingers near the galley, out of sight but within earshot. A few of the crew are there, and she’s with them. He doesn’t mean to listen. Not really. But then—

“Shanks is adorable.”

His grin widens instinctively. Ah, finally—

“Like a puppy.”

…Wait.

“You know when a dog runs up to you with a big, happy grin, tail wagging, practically vibrating with excitement? And they bring you things? He’s just like that.”

There’s laughter. Friendly, affectionate. Someone, probably Yasopp, asks, amused, “So you’re not interested?”

“Oh, no, no,” she says, laughing again. “He’s sweet. He’s nice. He makes me happy, but not in that way. It’s just… cute. Like when he comes back from an island with something shiny and holds it out like it’s the best thing in the world? How could I not smile at that?”

Silence. Or at least, his silence.

Shanks steps back, heart sinking to the pit of his stomach. A puppy? A dog? He was seducing her, wasn’t he? He had her on the edge, about to fall—right? But no. The truth is a slap, one that stings worse than any punch he’s ever taken. She wasn’t blushing because she was lovestruck. She wasn’t laughing because she was flustered. She wasn’t melting because he was irresistible. She just thought he was cute.

…Like a damn excited dog.

Denial, at first. “She’s messing with them,” he mutters to himself later that night, arms crossed as he leans against the ship’s railing, staring at the dark horizon. “She’s just embarrassed to admit she likes me.” But the more he thinks about it, the clearer it becomes—no, she really meant it. Sulking. Not obvious sulking—he has pride—but enough that Yasopp eventually nudges him and goes, “You look like you lost a bet. Or a bone.”

Testing the waters. The next time he brings her something, he watches closely. And sure enough—there it is. That same delighted smile. That soft chuckle. That affectionate, amused gaze.

Acceptance. He groans, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I’ve been playing fetch this whole time.”

Does he stop? Hell no. He still brings her things. Still teases. Still leans in too close, still acts like a reckless flirt. But now, when she smiles at him like that, when she laughs and shakes her head like he’s an overgrown child—he swears under his breath and mutters, “I should’ve been more mysterious.”

Shanks struts across the deck with the same unwavering self-assurance he always has, his latest “offering” clutched in one hand—a delicate silver pendant he picked up from their latest raid. He’s already picturing the way she’ll blush, the way her lips will part in soft surprise, the way her fingers will brush his just a second too long when she takes it. He knows the effect he has.

“Couldn’t help but think of you when I saw this,” he drawls, holding it out with that signature smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Figured something this beautiful should belong to someone just as breathtaking, yeah?” A perfectly crafted line. He’s gotten good at those.

She doesn’t giggle like the barmaids at port. She doesn’t blush furiously like a flustered girl swept off her feet. No, she does something far more dangerous.

She smiles. Slow, knowing, something deep and unreadable flickering behind her eyes. She doesn’t take the pendant right away—oh no, she lets him hold it there, savoring the moment, her gaze dragging up to his with a heat that’s nothing like infatuation. It’s something deeper, something effortless, something experienced. And then—gods, then—her fingers brush against his wrist, the touch featherlight, but enough to send an electric jolt through him.

“You’re such a sweet thing,” she murmurs, tilting her head just slightly, just enough for a few strands of her hair to slip over her shoulder. She takes the pendant with slow, deliberate ease, her fingertips skimming his palm as she does. Then—before he can even process the way she’s looking at him—she lifts her free hand and ruffles his hair, a touch too familiar, too teasing, like she’s indulging a particularly charming boy rather than entertaining a flirtation.

“I appreciate it, Shanks.” Her voice is honey-dipped, laced with something warm, something teasing, something that makes his stomach tighten. She turns the pendant over between her fingers, her lips curling in subtle amusement. “You always bring me such lovely things… such a thoughtful boy.”

Boy.

Shanks freezes. His brain stops working.

She’s still standing too close. Still looking at him like she’s in control of this little game, like she’s the one toying with him. The way her fingers had just slid through his hair, the way she called him sweet—Oh, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

He was supposed to be the smooth one. The one who had her flustered. But instead—instead—she’s looking at him like he’s the young one, like he’s some eager pup trying to impress.

The worst part? His face is burning.

He coughs, straightening, trying to summon his usual cocky grin—failing miserably. “Hah—well—uh—course! Someone’s gotta take care of ya, yeah?” He reaches up to run a hand through his hair, only to realize she already did that.

She hums in response, clearly entertained, before turning away with that same effortless grace. And just as he exhales—thinking she’s leaving, thinking he can salvage what little pride he has left—she pauses. Turns back, eyes lidded with something unreadable, something slow, something deliberate. The air around her shifts, heavy with an allure so natural, so effortless, that it knocks the breath straight from his lungs.

Then—gods help him—she leans in.

It’s nothing dramatic, nothing exaggerated, nothing overtly intimate, yet somehow it’s everything. The warmth of her breath skims his cheek first, sending every nerve in his body into alert. Then, soft as a whisper, the press of her lips. Slow. Unhurried. Lingered just long enough to make his pulse stutter. It isn’t just a kiss—it’s an execution, a well-placed strike, a calculated move by someone who knows exactly the power she holds.

And then—just as he thinks he might actually forget how to breathe—she leans back, tilts her head with a smirk that drips with the kind of confidence he only dreams of having, and lets her fingertips trail lightly along his jaw as she finally steps away.

“Such a good boy,” she purrs, amusement curling in her tone like smoke, before turning on her heel and sauntering away, hips swaying, utterly, devastatingly in control.

Shanks doesn’t move. Can’t move. He stands there, completely and utterly wrecked, his heart hammering so hard he’s sure the entire ship can hear it. His fingers twitch at his sides, his face hotter than the damn sun, and when he finally—finally—blinks himself back to reality, the only thing that leaves his lips is a barely comprehensible, “…What the hell just happened?”

From a few feet away, Yasopp—who had witnessed the whole thing—bursts out laughing so hard he nearly doubles over. “Oh man, you are so out of your league.”

Shanks groans, dragging a hand down his face, mind still reeling. This wasn’t over. It couldn’t be over. He’d just… he’d just have to step up his game.

Right?

Right.

He was not a damn puppy.

…Right?

[talesofesther]

𝔈𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔉𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢

↳ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

Aemond Targaryen x Reader/fem!OC

Series Summary: You made a promise to Aemond once, when you were young and naive, and the only friend he'd ever known; yet you abandoned him before you could fulfill it. Between broken bonds, a betrothal, and flames that still burn deep within you; this is the story of how you fell apart and found each other again.

A/N: My newest series is finally here, and it's one that I am incredibly excited about. I'm not going to say this is fully a reader-insert, because there will be a few minor characterizations for the main girl, I even considered writing this in third person but at the end of the day second person is the style I'm much more used to and comfortable with. However, I believe it is still "vague" enough that it can be considered a reader-insert too. All in all, I sincerely hope you can enjoy this story, I promise it'll be a good one. <3

Word count: 2k

Masterlist

"Tell me again."

From one of the highest points in the Red Keep, you could see the immensity of King's Landing and the waves of Blackwater Bay crashing to shore.

"Tell you what?"

The wind was cold yet gentle, dusk settled on the horizon; painting the skies and clouds in deep golden.

"The story of how you found your dragon."

You smiled, easy and knowing. Aemond has heard this story a dozen times already, yet you never refused to tell him just one more time, whenever he asked. From the glint in the young prince's eyes, you knew that it gave him hope that one day he would find a dragon of his own.

"My father, Laena, my sisters, and I were traveling again, we had stopped by a small town to let the dragons rest. And there, they told us they had spotted a rogue dragon. As wild as a lioness. She'd come out to hunt at night, during heavy rain and lightning storms." You motioned theatrically with your hands, an excited grin on your lips as you recounted the fateful night you'd met your dragon.

Aemond listened closely, as he always did, leaning his elbows on the balcony's balustrade and keeping his gaze attentively on you.

"One night, when we were staying at a house at the edge of town, I walked out while everyone was asleep. Do you know why?" You bit at the inside of your cheek, playing the usual game.

"You heard her," Aemond answered with the same spark of youthful joy.

"I did," you whispered as if it was a well-guarded secret, leaning closer to the boy. "I could hear her outside, the sound of her wings, her heavy steps on the ground. It was raining, and dark, but I felt as if... as if she was calling to me." You placed a hand over your heart.

"I think Caraxes heard when I got out, I think I ended up waking him," both you and Aemond chuckled. "But he kept quiet when he saw it was me. I walked for a while during that night, until..." You paused dramatically, and Aemond grinned. "Until I saw her, feasting on a stolen lamb."

Aemond's eyes were sparkling, he was drinking in every word.

"She was so pretty," you recalled with a soft smile, looking out to the horizon and the darkening sky. "I could see the dark blue of her scales, and then the brighter blue of her wings. Her horns were long and pointy, and she had this patch of fur in between them and on the back of her neck that I'd never seen before."

"She didn't attack you," Aemond mumbled, more a statement than a question; he knew the answer.

You shook your head; "No, she just looked at me with those beautiful eyes, they looked like they were glowing. And then she came closer, baring her teeth, but I asked her to stay calm. Told her I was a friend." You picked at your nails, a fondly nostalgic look in your eyes. "She followed me back home after that. I think she liked that I wasn't afraid of her. Father was furious for what I had done, but I think he was even more curious about my new dragon." You shrugged, with a cheeky grin, "The next morning, I chose to ride her for the first time, and she let me. We don't know if she ever had a rider before me, but we share a deep bond now."

"You are so lucky," Aemond told you, his voice low and eyes downcast; not because of your story, but because the boy wished to have the same luck you did.

Turning your head to try and catch his gaze, you spoke with conviction, "You're going to find your dragon soon, Aemond, I know you will. And when you do, we're going to fly together over all of King's Landing, I promise you."

Despite the solemn look in his eyes, the young Aemond smiled.

You extended a hand to him then, "Come on, your mother will be mad if we're late to supper… again." Wiggling your fingers for him, you held back a grin.

Aemond rolled his eyes halfheartedly, taking your hand anyway.

You walked together through the hallways of the castle, blissfully innocent and unaware of the amused whispers between the maids about how you two would still marry someday.

─── ⋄✧⋄ ───

Two nights later, Aemond did find his dragon. However, it came at a cost.

The day had been one filled with grief. Laena had passed away after trying to give birth to her third child. While she was not your birth mother, you had spent enough years by her side to consider her something similar to it; as she was, after all, the closest thing to a mother that you knew. She had always been kind to you, treating you no different than how she treated your two half-sisters.

You mourned her loss, the salty air of the sea mixing with the salt of your tears as you watched the ceremony unfold.

As soon as she had learned of her third pregnancy, Laena wanted to return home. Your father eventually agreed to halt the travelers life for her sake, and once King Viserys got word of your return he offered all of you a home in King's Landing again. Laena had been happy with the agreement since her brother lived there too.

And so that's how you came to meet Aemond. That was several months ago, yet it sometimes feels like it was just yesterday.

Tonight, you had gone to bed with red and puffy eyes, but it didn't take long for the distant sound of fast-paced steps and arguing to pull you from your sleep. You got up, rubbed your still tired eyes, and tiptoed towards the commotion, bare feet padding over the cold stone floor of Driftmark.

After turning corners and almost getting lost in the infinite hallways, you found your family. Everyone stood around the lit fire of the throne room fireplace while the Maester tended to someone you couldn't yet see as the back of the chair they were sitting on blocked your view.

Alicent was shouting, Rhaenyra and her sons were shouting, everyone was shouting; you heard the sharp words yet couldn't make much sense of them.

You spotted your father leaning against a pillar, a couple of feet away from everyone, and ran up to him, immediately clinging to the fabric of his vest and looking up at him with questioning eyes. He didn't speak, simply lay a hand on your back and then on your head, in the best comforting manner he could muster.

The shouting match continued until Viserys had to raise his own voice, everyone in the spacious room stayed quiet for a moment then. You could hear your shaky breath, feeling it in your bones that something was wrong. You gripped tighter onto your father, leaning your head against him.

Breaking the silence, Viserys demanded answers from Aemond, and your heartbeat sped up at the sound of your friend's name. And then his mother was speaking about the injustice of him being maimed. And when Rhaenyra mercilessly demanded that he be questioned, Aemond finally looked in her direction, and consequently, yours.

You saw it then. Deep red blood glinting in the low light of the fire, painful stitches stretching skin while also holding it together, his eye sewn shut. You couldn't hold back a gasp at the sight of him, the whole left side of his face now forever marked with an angry, deep cut that went from his forehead, over his eye, and down to the middle of his cheek. Seeing your friend like this twisted your stomach in all the wrong ways and made you feel like puking out your dinner, you were almost poking holes in your father's vest with how tight you were gripping it, already feeling your eyes burn with unshed tears.

Aemond met your gaze from afar, he looked almost as stunned and lost as you; but he was also quick to look away and hide behind the back of his chair again.

You didn't hear much of the rest of the fight then, all turning into muffled noise to your ears as your father took hold of your hand to pull you forward with him and into the commotion when Alicent picked up a dagger, dashing towards Rhaenyra. The sight of Aemond's bruised and slashed face forever burnt into the back of your mind.

The only voice you clearly heard again, was his; "Do not mourn me, mother. It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon."

─── ⋄✧⋄ ───

You were only able to meet Aemond again on the next day, minutes before both of you had to leave Driftmark.

You found him in a secluded hallway, he looked out at sea through the large windows, watching as they readied his ship for departure, the left side of his face carefully bandaged to keep the cut clean. Holding onto the sides of your dress so as not to step on it, you ran to him.

He heard you, of course he did, you were hardly the sneakiest of people. Part of him wanted to turn away and leave, deeply ashamed of the fresh scar marking his skin; perhaps even afraid that it might scare you off. But you were his friend. His only friend.

"Aemond..." you spoke softly when you reached him, biting at the inside of your cheek and nervously gripping onto the cotton fabric of your lilac dress. You were only kids; you didn't know what to say to someone who'd just lost a part of himself, and Aemond cowered under your gaze, making himself smaller as shame and timidness filled his gut.

"Does it... hurt?" You chose to ask, voice hesitant.

The young prince took his time, pursing his lips as he looked down at his feet and then out the window again. "Yes," he admitted, "but less than it did last night."

"I'm sorry," you said without a second thought.

Aemond glanced in your direction with the corner of his good eye, refusing to turn toward you completely. "Are you not upset that I claimed your step-mother's dragon?"

The corners of your lips turned up into a small smile, it held sorrow and affection in equal measures. "I'm not." You stepped closer to him and turned to look out the window as well, watching as gentle waves washed to shore. You bumped your shoulder onto his. "I'm glad it's you."

For several moments you stood in silence, simply enjoying the easeness that came with each other's company.

Alicent's voice was the one to eventually break the quiet. "Aemond," she called.

Both you and him turned in the direction of her voice, finding her looking at you with a fond smile on her lips. "It's time to go, my dear." She gestured outside, to where their ship awaited, now ready to set sail. Aemond nodded at her words and she turned around, making her way to the docks.

The prince, however, made no effort to leave, he kept his gaze focused outside, following a flock of birds that overflown the ocean.

You followed it too, the sight bringing an idea to your mind. You had a tentative smile on your lips before you even started speaking; "You should go," despite not looking at you directly, you noticed Aemond's attention shifting to you. "I'll meet you again once we reach King's Landing, and... now that you have a dragon, perhaps we'll soon be able to fly over it together, right?" Your voice held a hopeful tone as you spoke.

For the first time since he had lost his eye, Aemond smiled; a real smile that stretched the fresh stitches on his cheek and gave a prickling feeling to the sensitive skin around them, but he didn't mind. He finally turned to look at you fully, all hopeful excitement and pink cheeks.

"We will," he affirmed without losing his grin. He held your gaze for a moment longer, lips parting as if he wanted to say something more, but didn't.

From the same window, you watched, now alone, as Aemond's ship sailed away; the colossal figure of Vhagar flying close to it, as if to protect her new rider.

Later this same day, your father married Rhaenyra, taking both you and your sisters to live in Dragonstone without ceremony.

You never said goodbye to Aemond. You would have, if you knew you would not be seeing him again for many years to come.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Next chapter

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[radio-fmm]

Kiss

Ace x reader

fluff drabble + fem reader

“Oh god, I don’t even remember the last time I was kissed” embarrassment and booze tinted your voice as you giggled at your hopelessness, the moon hanging high above you the only witness of your statement besides your dear commander and friend

Ace’s eyebrows jump in surprise, surely you were just being modest right? You were the most beautiful person that had crossed his path, funny, clever, easy at conversation and so unique; there was no way you didn’t had people begging for your attention and at least a peck, hell he’d give everything for just one kiss of yours

“You’re joking” your face drops, that natural shyness creeping its way to your cheeks making him regret his teasing tone

“Am not” you say now serious as you balance yourself on the edge of the ship, eyes looking at the bottom of your glass in regret or embarrassment? Ace couldn’t tell since his attention was being stolen by your pouting lips “Before becoming a pirate, I only dated this one guy,”- you trailed off, your tongue running lose and a sour taste spreading at the memory.- “He was not only my last kiss but also my first”

Ace stays silent clinging at every word that leaves your pretty mouth. You’d always restrained from talking about your love life whenever the crew bring the topic to the table, staying still and quiet as you listened attentively, claiming to never having anything important to say on the matter, and he now understands why

“Do you… love him still or…?” The idea of your heart belonging to someone else made him burn, nevertheless he would understand, after all, he wasn’t that big of a deal and in his eyes you deserved better

“Absolutely not”- it’s almost comical how you were quick to answer. -“I did love him I guess once upon a time, but he wasn’t a good lover” your eyes trail off again now to look at the ocean waves crashing below, there’s certain hurt that fills your atmosphere that has Ace’s mind reeling

He wanted to show you how you deserved to be loved, every fiber of his being burning at the thought of this stupid guy taking you from granted; you alway caring and thoughtful, witty and kind heart that accompanied your otherworldly beauty that had charmed him

So lost in his thoughts he doesn’t catch how he’s looking at you heavily, eyebrows angry with a frown that makes you take a swing of your drink already hating the course of the conversation

Your voice brings him back to earth “You must think I’m a loser”- an awkward laugh follows, hanging in the air as you wished you had more alcohol to down

“NO!” Ace practically screams, immediately feeling embarrassed as your big eyes gaze at him surprised- “I respect that”

The silence that follows his statement makes you want to crawl out of your skin before the ocean takes you away and spits you out on the opposite side of the grand line, too ashamed to even walk away and run from him you remain focus on the stars twinkling above the commanders head, alike the ones that paint his face

“But if you want to change that, I could help” your vision quickly falls on him, his freckles that you had recalled before being dusted in pink, his brown orbs patiently awaiting for a response as they trace every inch of you over and over

Your breath starts to pick up speed, your breasts peeking from your shirt when you take in air that you fight to keep in but it just escapes you. Your mouth stays agape as it struggles to concoct a yes or a no, only luring the man before you like a light house in the middle of the merciless sea. You wanted this so bad like nothing ever before, your heart that laid on the hands of the fire fist the moment your eyes met now being close to combust

“Yes, I would like that” a whisper could be louder than the words that had escaped you, landing right into Ace’s heart

He can’t believe it, his ears only understanding the yes that started your sentence as the rest died before he could make them out. He had been dreaming of you so long it was almost pathetic

Your eyes stay still taking in their favorite view of each other as he walks closer caging you in, his wide frame covering you like a warm blanket against the cold sea breeze. One of his hands travels to cup your cheek, immediately melting under his touch like wax over a candle. His face shows his hesitation, afraid you are already regretting this but you immediately reassure him by hanging by his neck, your hands grasping his raven locks making him hold in a shaky breath of pleasure

His head finally falls so he can meet your lips halfway as you reach up. The moment he delicately grazes the lips he had been staring at the whole night making hi mind buzz

Ace kisses you with much feeling, basking in the way your mouth fits in his, having to stop himself from losing control of his actions as to not scare you away. Eventually as you grow more confident after feeling acquainted with the way he kisses, you let go. It becomes urgent and greedy, breaths mingling as your mouths open so you can access more of each other, a dance of lips, tongues and yearning that numbs every other sense

However, you cannot kiss forever, so it ends as Ace steps back to allow you to catch your breath, an understanding sinking in both of you as you finally realize that the thoughts and feelings that plagued you also went after him

“Let’s do that again”

Masterlist

[kaiser1ns]

LOOK HERE ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ MICHAEL KAISER X FEM!READER .ᐟ at first, i was only curious as i started to show interest in you. even if you ignore me you'll fall for me for a minute. we look good together, a day without you is a one-act play of tragedy.

GO TO THE EVENT MASTERLIST

Is it a tragedy, comedy, or romance? Or everything at once? Because Michael Kaiser never looked for another lead role in his world, he was destined to be number one and to reveal the impossible things in life, and meeting you wasn’t just a coincidence—it was what he wanted. You are a flower, a rather unique and beautiful blooming flower that seems to close and shows its stings, but he’d already figured out your pretty charms.

A guy like him has talent for going to you, a guy like him is perfect for you, so stop playing hard to get and just give him a chance. Despite him not liking receiving gifts, he would buy you a rose garden, a mansion, or front-row concert tickets…just please give him a chance. You're his ideal type, let's get married because you are already featured in his daily life, always on his mind even if he doesn’t want you to be but that seems rather impossible. 

“Look here, don't run away,” you now regret inviting him to your birthday party. You only did it out of solidary, empathy and to have the good image, that you are a good person who doesn’t hold grudges against anyone, except him. Oh, he is making your blood boil. But you can't deny that it's kind of...pleasant. It wasn't awkward, not at all, but there was something left unsaid, and it was from you. How much longer are you going to lie to yourself that you don't have feelings for him?

His blue eyes held both arrogance and warmth. You want to look away, but his gaze pins you there, leaving you defenseless.

“You’re a thief, I’m the police,” he repeats, clearly enjoying himself. “Pay for your crime.” His tone is teasing, but the intensity in his eyes tells a different story, something you already know even if you tried to deny it. Scoffing and rolling your eyes, pretending you’re unaffected, though your heart’s racing. “I haven’t stolen anything,” you insist, trying to sound resentful. “And it’s my birthday, Kaiser. You could at least pretend to be nice.”

But he only grins wider, not fooled by your attempt to bring back your thorns so he could sting himself, again. “Oh, you did, and you know it. Right…” He places his tattooed hand on his chest, where his heart would be, that same maddeningly cocky look on his face. “Right here.”

Oh, he’s not serious—he can’t be. "You're impossible, you know that?” you muttered, crossing your arms, still not breaking eye contact. But your cheeks flushed, trying to control your reaction. Of all days—your special day, of all times—he was here, getting under your skin. "Mmm, impossible to resist, you mean," But even as you deny it, you’re painfully aware of how close he’s standing, of how intensely he’s watching you. 

“Oh, stop looking at me like that,” you huffed, annoyed, though your pulse quickened. “Like what?” he asked innocently, knowing full well what he was doing, his gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips.

"Like…" You were trying your best not to fumble anything and to find the right words, but when he looked at you like that it was so hard to concentrate to think of something to say. “Like you’re actually serious. You’re just playing with me, aren’t you?”

Kaiser tilted his head, as he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “You think I’m playing? Just because I’m not as obvious about it?” He paused, his gaze more intense than before. "I’m not joking, you know. You think I go to everyone’s birthday party and play the villain to impress them?"

“Impress me? Do you think this is… impressive?” you reply, smirking despite yourself and his expression matches it—genuine, thoughtful. You couldn't believe that The German Priodgy would have a weakness and it would be you.

“I’m here because I wanted to be,” he says simply, almost like it surprises him too. “You’re here in my head, and I didn’t invite you, you know?” He gives a small laugh, and you know he’s serious despite his usual way of expressing himself.

You realize he’s waiting for a reply. He looks at you daring you to deny what he suspects, what maybe he already knows.  But saying it out loud feels impossible, terrifying even. The walls you’ve carefully built against him are thinning, but you’ve held onto them for so long that letting them down now feels like giving him too much, like admitting he’d won something he wasn’t supposed to.

For a moment, the noise of the party fades into the background. There’s only you and him, standing too close, hearts beating in sync, and a thousand unsaid things lingering in the air between you. But maybe some things don’t need to be said—at least, not yet, because soon, you'll want him and finally look his way.

©2024 kaiser1ns nineteenth birthday party.

[cntloup]

Mafia!Simon x Bartender!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

“So? You coming or not?” Simon asks and takes a small sip of his whiskey. 

“To a ball? You know I'm not one for that kind of stuff!” you respond and throw a wet rag on the counter and start rubbing the stains off the black marble. 

“I'm asking you to come with me... as my date... and it won’t be that long. I promise. We’ll get out of there whenever you want.” he mentions, eyeing you from the edge of the glass that meets his lips once again. 

“Fine! But I can’t promise to be good company. I have no idea what to do in that kind of setting!” you say with a light chuckle. 

“You’re always the perfect company, love. And don’t worry about it. Just stay by my side and look pretty... as you always do.” he mutters the last part, but your sharp hearing doesn’t miss it. 

You smile and look over at him, noticing the slightly flustered look written on his face which makes your smile even wider, “Thank you.” you murmur as quietly with a bashful smile and of course he catches that. 

“Wait! When even is this ball?” you ask, remembering that he never mentioned it. 

“Tonight!” he replies, “What?! I can’t get ready ‘till then! Simon, what the hell?! I don’t even have a proper dress!” you say in an agitated tone, a shocked expression etched on your face. 

He only chuckles and places his credit card on the counter, “Go buy yourself a dress. I'll pick you up at 7.” he says nonchalantly and leaves. 

‘bloody fuckin’ hell’ you grumble under your breath and let out a frustrated sigh, deciding to close up early to go get ready for the ball. 

And it slowly starts to dawn on you. He has literally asked you on a date! Why would he if he didn’t like you? 

And soon, the familiar butterflies return dancing in your belly and you look around the bar to make sure no one is there before letting out a loud squeal like a school girl! 

----- 

He picks you up at 7 sharp in a black Rolls Royce. 

His breath hitches in his throat the moment you walk out the door in your beautiful dress, all dolled up and pretty... not that you weren’t before... you’re always beautiful in his eyes. 

“You look beautiful, dove.” he mentions before kissing your forehead, “You’re not too bad yourself! You clean up nice, Mr. Riley!” you say with your gorgeous smile while lightly touching the collar of his suit. 

‘you’re gonna be the death of me!’ he thinks to himself as he gazes into your beautiful eyes, the very eyes that have stolen his heart. 

“Shall we?” you ask and he gestures to the driver to open the door for you. 

Most of the drive there is silent... but a comfortable, peaceful silence. It's never awkward with him. You've always liked spending time together in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence.

----- 

You arrive at your destination, the fancy ballroom and all the pretentious people smiling and laughing together, acting as if they’re friends when in reality, they will stab each other in the back without hesitation if the opportunity arises. 

But you manage to keep a joyous and warm facade as you mingle with the other guests and the night goes fairly smoothly. 

Apart from the nosey people asking if you two are in a relationship only for you to deny and say you’re only good friends much to your own dismay in order not to embarrass him or make him uncomfortable. 

But what you don’t notice is the disappointed look on his face every time you mention that you’re nothing but friends. 

But there is something you do notice. You spot the familiar figure in the distant corner of the room. A man you have seen at the bar on a few occasions. 

Who is he? Is he following you? 

There's a slight churn in your stomach at the mere thought of it and you tell Simon that you’re not feeling well. 

He places a hand on the small of your back and guides you to the car to take you home as soon as you mention it to him.

-----

“Simon?!" you call out nervously as you see a vehicle approaching in the rear-view mirror when you're halfway from your home.

"I think someone is following us!” you say, but it’s too late as you hear shots firing and then... nothing.

@luvecarson

[catbread0]

Hi , first time requesting something but could you do a Qin Shi Huang x shy fem River goddess reader hc or one shot (I don't mind) , possibly fluff , reader is the goddess of the sea/rivers in China (so Mazu) , and QSH finds her after his match , wondering why she's so familiar, QSH saw her once dancing byherself when he was still a proper ruler of China. I think she'd look like how Mazu looks on the pictures I've seen, I think I'd like QSH to try to marry Reader.

Please and Thank you

Qin Shi Huang x Mazu! Reader

It was nice doing this request. Forgive me if he sounds OOC. It's because I haven't read any manga after season 2 due to there being no hard copies in English in my state. I'm only going off of what my friend has told about their personality traits, without spoilers. Hope you enjoy reading, and I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes!!

(*´・∀・｀*)

Words: 587

(!!PLEASE NO SPOILERS!!)

Fluff, idk who actually won the round

Record of Ragnarok Masterlist

Searching For You

Qin Shi has been wandering around China. Being an emperor was draining and decided to see where more forces were needed in case of an invasion from any neighboring countries.

While he was walking around, he heard a faint yet soothing voice coming from the distance.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to follow the voice. There, he hid behind a tree and saw a beautiful maiden dancing in the river that flowed by here.

That beautiful maiden was you, Mazu, the Chinese Goddess of the sea. However, he didn’t know who you were.

You didn’t notice Qin Shi behind the tree as you kept dancing. Your red hanfu flowed elegantly with your movements, and the gold hairpins and jewelry that you wore swayed with you.

Qin Shi couldn’t take his eyes off of you, and he studied your appearance. However, he took a step to get a better look but stepped on a branch that was on the ground.

You immediately heard the noise and stopped dancing. You were on high alert and vanished into the water.

Qin Shi came out of his spot and tried to find you and followed down the river for a bit. But at the end of the day, he couldn’t find the maiden that had stolen his heart at first sight.

During his reign as emperor, Qin Shi would hire people to try and find the beautiful maiden. Some said that he may have been dreaming or hallucinating, but he knew what he saw wasn’t fictional. Qin Shi would ask painters to paint the beautiful maiden by giving descriptions of them.

All of them came close, but he would not be satisfied even if it was the smallest mistake.

You plagued his mind until he died.

Now, Qin Shi was fighting for his life again in the hospital of Valhalla. His match had finished, and he was recovering, but while he was watching the screen they had for him in the room, he saw a glimpse of the same beautiful maiden he saw years ago.

Qin Shi immediately asked for a nurse and asked if they knew who that maiden was. They said yes, and he asked for you to be brought to his room.

A few minutes later, you arrived, and you were in front of him. He knew you weren't a hallucination. He was glad he finally found you again.

You both talked to each other, and you had to admit it was lovely talking to someone as interesting as him.

Qin Shi explained how he searched for you when he scared you off. You laughed since you were mostly worshipped during the Song Dynasty, almost 740 years apart.

The moment Qin Shi was discharged, he went to find you and asked you to have a date with him. You both had a joyful time, but to Qin Shi, it felt as if he kept falling for you more each time you laughed or smiled at him.

After a few days, Qin Shi decided to ask for your hand in marriage. But not without making it extravagant, after all, what emperor wouldn't make a ceremony for a god and future empress?

Qin Shi learned that you are celebrated on your birthday, the 23rd day of the third month of the lunar calendar. So he gathered all of his civilians both far and wide to his palace to create the largest and best festival for you.

Qin Shi couldn't wait for your birthday to propose to you.

~Lilly's

[minorlyatfault]

YOU'RE JUST A WARM BODY, FILL UP THE SPACE IN MY BED !

t. drake x f!glasses!reader

✷ CATEGORY : HEADCANONS !

✷ tim drake & with a girlfriend who wears glasses.

✷ TAGS: ooc. fluff. intense mutual pining(hehe. they're dating. probsies.). teasing & tension. glasses kink if you squint(BUT LIKE... NO SMUT AT ALL.). soft obsession. yearning disguised as banter. tim being a hopeless romantic but pretending he's not. reader knowing exactly how to fluster him. stolen glances. unresolved sexual tension. awkward but adorable moments. slow-burning desire. tim trying (& failing) to stay cool. possessive tendencies. shy confessions hidden in jokes. soft touches that linger. casual domestic intimacy. tension so thick you could cut it. emotional vulnerability masked as sarcasm. minor jealousy. reader being effortlessly seductive without realizing it. tim being 100% whipped. way too many almost-kisses. that one kiss that ruins him▰in the best way.( like that one guy you once liked. ) kind of.... perv!tim bUT NOT PERV!TIM BUT KIND OF ???????????????????? reader is flirty. tim would do anything for reader & she knows. reader is a vigilante !

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 NOTES !

001. THIS CUTIE IS SOOOO UNDERRATED. LIKE MY WORKS AB HIM ARE ☹️☹️☹️☹️ give my boy some love.

002. if you guys couldn't tell, im clearing up my drafts because i had 20+ of em💔💔

003. AGAIN, I DON'T WRITE KINKS I DON'T WRITE KINKS IT'S IN MY GUIDELINES IT'S IN MY GUIDELINES

004. boy be possessive like vro i would NAWT go anywhere, bb

005. not much yapping here 💔💔

tim has always believed glasses were the most attractive thing.

you, sitting on the couch with a book or your computer, glasses sitting on your nose? it's enough to give his heart a skip.

he finds himself gawking more than once, torn between envy & admiration.(let's lean more on admiration tho)

"you're so adorable with them,"

he mutters under his breath, not realizing until you catch him staring how loud he's thinking it.

when you are around him, there is a subtle tension in his stance.

he does not make much of it, but the way his hands linger close to you whenever you are around, wanting to touch, betrays him.

he attempts to hide it by reading or browsing on his phone, but he is secretly taking note of how your glasses make you look so naturally beautiful.

there's this one thing where he's leaning over you to adjust something or see on your phone & your glasses rub against his face. he freezes for a second, his heart pounding because now it feels like you've left an impression on him.

tim's the kind to tease you lightly about your glasses.

"you know, you could wear glasses & a cape. might make you dangerous-looking."

he delivers it with a smile, but secretly, he's imagining you in a bad-to-the-bone superhero costume & can't suppress the little quivers that spring up in his chest. like OHHHH GODDDD.

how you push your glasses up with one hand while the other is typing or busy working makes him weak in the knees.

he's so accustomed to the tough exterior, but when he catches you like this.

focused, determined, & with those glasses on▰it just flips a switch in him.

"you look so hot when you concentrate,"

he says under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper.

when you take your glasses off to rub your eyes or when they're dangling from your shirt, tim will not hide his interest.

there's something with the way you look so exposed & genuine without them, & he can't help but want to move closer, even when he's attempting to cool. the way his eyes go soft when you're not observing? a dead giveaway. darlings it SHOWS.

you've got him wrapped around your finger, & he's aware of it.

you know just how to tease him, particularly when you're all brassy & sexy in those glasses of yours.

"i know you want me to kiss you right now, tim,"

you'll tell him, & it's enough to make him do anything you say.

he just nods, helpless, his whole attitude both with frustration & lust.

you know how to get him wanting more.

whenever you push your glasses up your nose, the sly grin he gives you before you lean in a little closer, he's already gone.

it's like you're teasing him with this small game, & he can't help but give in.

his breath catches when you lean in just slightly too close, the tension of what could happen next suspended between you.

the instant you kiss him▰slow, soft, deliberate▰he forgets everything else in the room.

his hands move to your waist, but they're tentative, wondering if he can pull you in closer.

the glasses on your face push against his own as you lean in, & the rest of the world just melts away.

he's going down bad, heart pounding, but he won't own up to how much he's wanting more.

he hungers▰craves for every moment with you.

even after a kiss, he hangs around, his fingers tracing the lines of your shoulders as if he's enjoying the sensation of you near.

"i don't know how you do it,"

he grumbles.

"but i can't get enough of you."

you enjoy teasing him when he's in full-on 'i'm trying to be cool' mode, particularly when his usual aplomb crumbles under the pressure of your sly, knowing stares.

the way you gaze at him over your glasses, as if you've discovered his secret, sends him crazy.

& he knows it. you know it.

when you're on a mission together or just goofing around, your glasses slide down your nose & you push them back up, & you catch him looking at you with a sly smile.

"what?"

you mock. tim, his face burning with embarrassment, turns away hastily, but he can't suppress his smile.

you've soooooo got him under your spell.

tim may be a,,, whiz with computers, gadgets, & everything technical, but when it comes to you▰particularly when you're wearing those glasses▰he's in over his head.

you've learned how to push all of his buttons, & really?

he doesn't care.

the more you do it, the more he's hooked on you.

he's,,,, possessive, but not in the obvious manner, but when people attempt to come on to you, he immediately swoops & grabs your hand with a tight hold.

he doesn't particularly like to share you, although he doesn't quite know how to say this in the proper way.

he'll look over at you & smirk, almost as if he's saying,

mine.

tim's internal conflict is real.

he's attempting to keep his 'i'm cool' persona going with the intense need to slam you against the wall & kiss you into oblivion when you get too close.

but you?

you just lean in.

you know precisely how to prod him, how to tease him, how to make him want more without ever having to say anything.

every kiss with you is unique. precious, but every last one of them leaves him starved for more.

whether the kiss is a slow, blazing one where his heart is sure to burst free, or one of the tormenting, flirty ones which leaves him short of breath, he

never truly knows what it will be like, but it makes him flat-out crazy for it.

you have a way of taking control.

tim enjoys when you take control, leaning into him with that small smile of yours, shoving him against a wall or in a corner.

you know how to take control without even making it subtle, & that just plays with his head in the best possible way.

he's super duper down for you.

no doubt about it.

you know it.

he knows it.

he attempts to make out like he's not entirely under your command, but it's futile.

you've got him just where you want him, & he wouldn't have it any other way.

© minorlyatfault, 2025

[ghadasaftawi]

A Playground Silenced: War's Toll on Innocence The vibrant chaos of crayons and finger paint used to be the soundtrack to my mornings. Dropping my child, Yousef, off at kindergarten was a symphony of shrieks, giggles, and the occasional tear – a beautiful cacophony of childhood. But war, a cruel conductor, has replaced that melody with a chilling silence. Yousef's kindergarten wasn't just a building; it was a castle of color, a launching pad for dreams. The walls were adorned with construction paper masterpieces, a testament to tiny fingers exploring creativity. The playground, a haven of laughter, echoed with the joyous shouts of tag and the squeals of delight from the slide. Now, the building stands as a hollow shell, a monument to the war's senseless destruction. The news reports were sterile, devoid of the human cost. Buildings destroyed, infrastructure crippled – just statistics on a screen. But the reality for us is far more agonizing. The sight of the kindergarten, its roof caved in, windows shattered like broken dreams, is a constant reminder of the stolen innocence. The silence where laughter once danced is a physical ache that no bandage can heal. Yousef, robbed of his carefree world, doesn't quite understand the gravity of the situation. he asks, with a heartbreaking innocence, "When can I go back and play with Jad on the slide?" Explaining the concept of war to a child so young feels like trying to explain the color blue to someone who's been born blind. The words hang heavy in the air, a woefully inadequate response to his wide-eyed confusion. The destruction of a kindergarten is more than just bricks and mortar. It's a blow to the very heart of a community, a symbol of the future stolen. It's a generation of children forced to confront a world they never asked for. War may silence the playground, but it cannot silence the hope that burns within these children. Rebuilding the kindergarten will be more than just bricks and mortar; it will be a testament to the enduring human spirit, a promise to our children that laughter will rise again.

[hippiegoth97]

Where Is My Mind?: Eddie Munson x Reader

Collage by me :)

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Description: It's your two-year anniversary with Eddie, and you both spend the evening exchanging 'gifts'...

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: Smut, female reader, fingering, oral sex, squirting, consecutive orgasms, embarrassment, crying, overstimulation

Word Count: 4.8k

divider by @firefly-graphics

Where Is My Mind?

"Oh, God, Eddie!" You cry out as an overwhelming orgasm rocks through you. Your hands are tangled in Eddie's hair as he's been going down on you for the last hour or so. You’ve already cum three times, but he refuses to let up. You're soaked in sweat, your body sparking as he keeps licking and sucking on you to build you up again. "Baby, haven't you had enough? Your tongue must be getting tired." You whine, feeling your insides tighten in preparation for yet another orgasm.

He stops for a second to answer you. "Not at all angel, you taste so good. I could do this all night, and I love hearing you scream my name." He immediately dives back in, sticking his tongue inside your soaked cunt. His cock strains against his jeans, but he manages to get a little friction from kneeling against the side of his bed as he works on you.

Earlier tonight, the two of you had been celebrating your two-year anniversary. Eddie made spaghetti for dinner, and he gave you a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers. He also made you a mixtape, one he said was perfect for eating you out. Eager to test it, he popped the tape into the portable stereo and pounced on you. You hadn't even had the chance to give Eddie his gift, he was too preoccupied stripping you of your clothes and kissing every inch of flesh on your body.

Eddie has managed to keep all of his clothes on, he knows he'll get what he desires from you soon enough. But he wants to show you just how much he loves you. You're his whole world, a queen ruling over his cynical heart. Until he met you, he'd never truly believed in love or romance before. He thought those things were just make-believe bullshit made up by The Man to force people into model nuclear families. But he swears the moment he laid eyes on you, everything changed for him.

Funnily enough, you'd met him in a land of make-believe, so to speak. A Renaissance Faire in Indianapolis, to be exact. You'd gone with some friends, the lot of you were highly obsessed with medieval times and the mythology surrounding it. Eddie went by himself, unable to convince anyone to go along with him. He figured this was the only way to experience anything resembling Lord of The Rings and D&D in real life. Neither of you had high expectations, you assumed it would be pretty cheesy or mostly meant for little kids.

Once you'd arrived however, what you saw before you blew your minds. The entrance to the Faire was a giant castle, with a moat and a drawbridge. Everyone was dressed up, and all the employees were deep within their characters. It was a fantasy nerd's paradise, you thought you'd died and gone to heaven. And you hadn't even stepped foot inside the fairgrounds yet. But once you paid the admission and walked through the gates, your brain exploded all over again.

There were stalls of handmade jewelry, wands, swords, leather-bound journals, costumes, tiaras, fairy wings, the list went on endlessly. A field was blocked off for the knights to joust on massive horses, and rows of games lined the other side of the grounds. There were fortune tellers, face painters, people dressed as fairies and elves and royalty. A regal food court boasted giant turkey legs, popcorn, many sweets and treats, and more than enough booze to knock you on your ass. It was all so much to take in, but in an odd way it felt like you'd been waiting to find a place like this your entire life.

You and your friends explored every inch of the Faire, unable to resist buying the cute trinkets from the little shops. You watched the noble knights joust for the honor of marrying the fine princess, the winner giving her a big kiss for everyone to see. It was surprisingly romantic, sending your heart aflutter. You've always loved mushy things like that, waiting for your own knight in shining armor to save you from your boring life.

After a while, your stomach started growling. Your friends wanted to keep playing the carnival games, one of which was throwing tomatoes at a jester's face as he insulted you. You told them you'd come right back, heading to the other side of the Faire to try one of those famous turkey legs. It's at this point that Eddie spotted you from afar, though you took no notice of him. Your stomach lead you blindly to the smell of roasting meat, blocking out everything else happening around you.

Eddie caught a glimpse of you as he was walking the other way to check out the games, stopping dead in his tracks. He saw you were dressed in a long, red chemise, which left your shoulders bare. A black, corseted overdress sat atop the chemise, pushing your tits up for the perfect amount of cleavage. Your hair was tied in braids, which were wrapped immaculately around your head. Some loose strands of hair framed your face, and he was instantly enchanted. He decided to follow you, to perhaps buy you an ale or something. He hadn't expected to really interact with anyone outside of the employees at the Faire, but you seemed special.

You sidled up to the stand selling the turkey legs, ordering one for yourself. You'd contemplated buying for your friends too, but the legs were probably too big to carry so many at that great of a distance. You paid for your food, and made your way to the busty woman selling beer. You were just about to order when you heard a voice speak to you. "May I be so bold as to buy a fair maiden some ale?" You turned to see where the voice came from, stunned to find a very handsome man standing before you. He was tall, slender, with long, curly hair and a devilish smile on his face. He was wearing a red, billowy shirt that exposed some of his chest, and tight, black leather pants that tied with laces in the front. Matching leather boots adorned his feet, and a rather large sword sat sheathed at his hip. His hand rested over the handle of the sword, which made you take notice of the chunky rings on his fingers. He was the most beautiful man you'd ever seen, and he was talking to you.

You smiled at him, blushing at his deep brown eyes boring into you. "Why, thank you, kind sir. I'd be honored to indulge in a libation with you." You said, giggling at how silly you sounded with a terrible accent. He chuckled at you, reaching out for your hand. You gave it to him, blushing even harder when he planted a kiss to the back of it. He led you wordlessly to the line for drinks, ordering for you when it was finally your turn again. Once he paid, he found a nice quiet spot for you to talk. The two of you sat on a bench, knees touching as you positioned yourselves beside each other. You'd forgotten all about your turkey leg at this point, but you didn't really care to remember it when you were in the company of this mysterious man.

"So, what's your name, my lady?" He was still playing along, though you weren't sure how long the act could be kept up.

"Y/N. And yours?" You said coyly, sipping from your metal mug.

"Eddie, it's nice to meet you, Y/N. What brings you to the Faire?" He chugged some of his own drink, belching loudly which made you laugh. "Pardon me." He said sheepishly, wiping his mouth with his hand.

"I'm here with some friends. We've always liked medieval stuff, so we figured this would be a fun time." You couldn't keep speaking in Olde English, it was giving you a headache to think of the correct phrasing. Eddie took notice, relaxing his shoulders as it seemed he was also struggling to keep up. "What about you, Eddie? Are you here with anyone?" You asked, worried that maybe he had a girlfriend or something. A man as handsome as he was, he had to be taken, right?

"Nope, I'm here all on my lonesome. Well, until I saw you, the most gorgeous young woman I've ever seen." He put a hand on your knee suggestively, which made you tense up. You were struck by his words, no man had called you something so flattering before. Your eyes met his again, and you couldn't resist licking your lips. He continued speaking, much lower in volume. "And I also quite enjoy 'medieval stuff' as you called it, though I think you already figured that out." You set down your beer, and he put his aside as well. He brushed one of the stray strands of hair behind your ear, smoothly making a move to cup your cheek afterwards. "May I kiss you, princess?" He asked softly, his breath shaking with nerves. You'd barely spoken to each other, and yet there you were, centimeters away from your lips meeting.

"Yes, kind sir. You may." You replied, too caught up in anticipation to laugh. He closed the gap between you, gently pressing his mouth to yours. He tasted like beer, and tobacco. You were instantly hooked, pulling on his shirt collar to bring him closer to you. You both moaned down each other's throats, enamored by how thrilling it was to kiss someone you'd just met. You began to feel quite warm, tempted to straddle his lap right there for anyone to see.

A little bit later, the jester from earlier brought everyone's attention to you. He ran up to your bench, standing behind you as you kissed. "Well, it seems we doth have some rather rambunctious lovers in our midst! Perhaps we shall quell their burning lust, lest they shed their clothes for all eyes to see!" The jester jumped in the air, ringing a loud bell which hurt your ears. You broke apart, blushing madly at being called out. Passersby stopped to see this display, eager to watch your public humiliation. "Ah, and you dare to waste such fine ale? In favor of lashing tongues at one another? For shame!" He shouted, and the crowd mimicked his final words.

"FOR SHAME!" The bystanders were all laughing at you, though it was all in good fun. The jester picked up your mugs, holding them over your heads. You looked to Eddie, unsure of what to do. All he could do was stare back, blushing just as hard as you were while he shrugged his shoulders.

"FOR SHAME!" The jester laughed maniacally, dumping the remains of your drinks onto your heads. You shrieked as the cold beer soaked through your clothes and hair. You stood up, swatting at the jester in an attempt to hit him. He quickly dodged your blow, tutting at you. Eddie reached out to reel you in, but you took no notice. "Oh! I see you have quite the fire inside you, young maiden! Methinks one ought to quench thine whorish flames!" You felt another cold splash of liquid rain down onto you, much larger than the last. Eddie gasped, horrified that these people would go so far to humiliate you. You turned back around to see a burly man holding a large wooden bucket, which you guessed previously held the water that was poured onto your head. You glared at the jester again, unamused at getting soaked like that. "Oh, sweet lady. I beg thee to calm thyself. 'Tis all in good 'jest'!" He laughed again, dancing a jig before he went on his merry way. The onlookers also left to go about their business, the little show was over. Your friends caught the end of it, watching as you struggled to stand upright, the ground beneath you melting into sloppy mud.

"Y/N, are you alright?" Eddie asked quietly, reaching for your arm. You flinched at first, still shaken from being made a fool by the fool. You just nodded, trying not to cry. You knew it was just a joke, and you had made the mistake of making out in public when the performers loved any opportunity to make a silly interaction. Eddie pulled you close, innocently holding your waist to calm you. "I'm sorry, this is all my fault." He sounded sad, guilty for causing this whole ordeal.

"It's alright, I should've seen that coming. I'd heard the workers can be quite mischievous." You wiped your face with your hands, and your group came up to ask what happened. They were also very intrigued to find out who the handsome man next to you was. You explained it all, introducing them to Eddie. They eyed him up and down, making various approving noises or remarks in the most unsubtle way. You tried to apologize to Eddie for their rudeness, but he thought nothing of it, in fact he found it quite flattering. He walked with you and your friends to the exit, considering you being drenched made it quite uncomfortable to stay at the Faire.

You'd coincidentally parked your car right next to his van, and he clumsily dug around inside his vehicle to find a scrap of paper to write down his phone number for you. Eddie kissed you again before you parted ways, his wet hair rubbed against your cheeks as he slipped the paper into your hands. The feeling of his lips on yours stole the air from your lungs, but a warning honk from your friends signaled it was time to let him go. You held that little scrap of paper tightly the whole way home, eagerly dialing him later that evening. And the rest was history, from that moment on, you and Eddie had been inseparable.

Returning to the present, Eddie's tongue is furiously flicking against your clit to drive you over the edge for the fourth time this evening. An endless flow of moans falls from your lips, and Eddie drinks it all in. He loves the sounds you make, they're so vulgar and beautiful at the same time. He inserts two fingers into your soaking pussy, taking his mouth away to have a small break.

Eddie's eyes scan over your glistening body, watching you squirm and ball up the sheets with your hands. Your tits bounce as every touch he gives you makes your body jolt. Tears stream down your cheeks, your mouth fixed agape. "You're so gorgeous like this, sweetheart. So perfectly fucked for me. Do you want me to make you cum again?" He purrs at you, pumping his fingers inside you teasingly. His pace is excruciatingly slow, it brings you right to the edge without letting you fall off.

"Yes, please! I'm very close, Eds. Make me cum, I can't take the teasing." You're so needy for him, your tone making his cock even harder as you speak. He picks up speed, watching your head dig further into the pillow. Your back arches off the bed, and your pussy flutters around his fingers wildly. You're so, so close, and you want him to see you lose control. "Just like that, baby. Fuck, you make me feel so good." He adores when you praise him, it always casts his self-doubt about his performance aside.

"I'm happy to please you, sweetheart. Be a good girl and make a mess on my fingers." He coos at you, watching every micro-expression that swipes across your face. He moves his digits even faster inside you, using his thumb to rub vicious circles on your clit.

"Eddie!" You scream as another explosion of bliss engulfs you. Your legs shake violently, arousal pooling into Eddie's hand. Your insides are on fire, your abdomen sore from your muscles flexing involuntarily with every orgasm. He stills his fingers, letting your high fade away before slowly pulling them out. He brings them to his lips, hungrily sucking your juices from them. He moans at the taste, sucking down every last drop of you as his eyes flutter closed.

"Mmm, so fuckin' good, baby." Eddie observes you again, admiring how spent you look. You're panting, your face staring at the ceiling. Your hair clings to your sweat-soaked face, and your whole body glows with lust. Tremors rock through you randomly, making you whimper as they shock your clit. Eddie’s really done a number on you. You're sure if he dared to simply blow air against your pussy, you'd lose it all over again. He crawls over to you on the bed, laying next to you carefully. He turns your face to look at him, smiling lovingly at you. "Did you enjoy yourself, angel?" He asks.

"Y-yes, Eds." You stutter your words, shivering slightly as your sweat turns cold. He pulls you close, quickly warming you back up in his gentle arms. He kisses you tenderly, and you can't help melting into putty. "Do you want your present now, baby?" You ask quietly, nuzzling your head into his neck.

"Sure, sweetheart. Stay here though, I'll grab it." He lets you go, stepping off the bed to grab the small box you put on his dresser as he ambushed you earlier. He gets back into bed, bringing you back into his embrace. You quickly snuggle him again, eager for his body heat to radiate into you. Eddie opens the box, finding a beautiful ring inside. He removes it from the box, inspecting it closely. It's chunky and silver like the ones he has already, but in the middle is a large, blood-red stone in the shape of a heart. The band itself is an intricate weaved pattern, and there's an engraving on the underside of the stone. It reads: 'For Eddie, My Heroic Knight' in an elegant script. He's speechless, he never expected you to get him something so nice.

"Do you like it, darling?" You ask, playfully stroking his chest as you watch his awestruck face. It's amusing that you seem to have caught him off guard, which is not an easy feat. After a moment of admiring the ring, Eddie slips it on one of the free fingers on his right hand.

"I love it, angel. It's the best gift anyone's ever given me." His eyes meet yours, his hand cupping your cheek. Your lips touch again, but this time you climb on top of him as you kiss. You straddle him, his hands gripping your ass roughly. Your mouth leaves Eddie's, migrating to his jaw and neck. He moans as you suck dark hickeys onto his flesh, marking him as much as you can. Your cunt rubs against Eddie's hard cock over his jeans, and you're eager to get him out of his clothes. You sit up, tugging his shirt up his chest. He helps you out, quickly discarding it to the floor.

"You're so handsome, baby." You tell him as you stare at his beautiful chest. You lean down to kiss his tattoos, nipping his skin playfully. Eddie groans, fixated on every touch you give him. Your mouth meets every inch of him you can reach, slowly traveling down to the small trail of hair above his jeans. You lift your head, smirking at him as you unbuckle his belt. He grins back, resting his head on his hands to observe your actions. You unzip his fly and yank his pants down his legs, tossing them aside. You glance down at his boxers, a tent formed in the thin fabric. Licking your lips, you shed Eddie of his final layer of clothing, watching his dick stand at attention. You kneel between his legs, leaning down you lick a long stripe up his length.

"Fuck." Eddie sighs, wanting to shove himself down your throat so badly. But he lets you take your time, not breaking eye contact as you do so. You teasingly swirl your tongue around the head, swallowing the precum that's gathered on it. He moans, an almost tortured look on his face. "Baby, please don't tease me." He begs, needy for your hot, wet mouth. You happily sink your lips down onto his cock, letting him hit the back of your throat. More noises spill from Eddie's lips as you work him, deepthroating him expertly. He loves when you give him head, there's nobody else on this earth that does it like you.

"Mmm." You moan on his length, increasing your speed. Sure, you mainly wanted to send vibrations through Eddie to drive him mad, but you also really enjoy sucking him off. Watching him whine and moan and praise you, it gets you unbelievably hot and bothered. You massage his balls gently in your hand, feeling them tighten as Eddie's high draws closer.

"Keep going, sweetheart. You're such a good little slut for me. Can you bring your pussy over here while you do that, though?" He asks, insatiable lust tinging his voice. You roll your eyes goofily, of course he wants to eat you out again. You already know it won't take long for him to make you cum, you're still so riled up from before. You continue blowing him, carefully maneuvering yourself to put your cunt in his face. He notices the arousal dripping from you, groaning at the site. "You love having my dick in your mouth, don't you, baby?" He says rhetorically, he already knows the answer.

"Mmhmm." You reply anyway, humming on him again. But it quickly morphs into a moan as Eddie's tongue begins toying around with your clit. He stops for a moment, biting your ass cheek to get your attention. You look back at him best you can, letting his dick slip out of your mouth. "Yes, my love?" You ask, quite used to this form of communication with him.

"Slow down on me a little, angel. I want you to focus on enjoying yourself." He strokes your thighs sensually, his tongue playing at the edge of his mouth mischievously. Eddie's always been so giving in bed, even when he's obviously desperate to have some pleasure of his own. You nod at him as you bite your lip, before turning away to take him back in your mouth. You slowly bob up and down, your tongue swirling around his length languidly. "That's it, keep that pace, Y/N." He groans again, trying to hold back his impulse to buck his hips into you. Eddie savors the feeling for a second, calming himself. You can feel his breath stuttering as it fans over your pussy, mentally smirking at just how close he is.

You want his mouth back on you, though he seems to be a little distracted. You lean your behind backwards to him, tempting his tongue to see just how sweet you taste. He chuckles at your wanting, before giving you what you need. Eddie sucks your clit back into his mouth, focusing his moans onto your core. The vibrations are nearly enough to make you lose it, you practically scream on his cock. You want to go faster, make him cum down your throat right now. But he asked you to go slowly, and you'll do anything to make him happy. It takes everything in you to maintain your pace, due to Eddie's moves making your head spin. You're sweating all over again, and it feels like your brain is melting.

Eddie relentlessly licks and sucks on your pussy, drinking up any arousal that drips from it. There's a nonstop cycle of moaning from the two of you, sending tremors through your flesh where you need it the most. You instinctively push yourself closer to his face, and he takes this as his cue to shove his tongue inside your needy hole. Your fifth orgasm takes you over, your walls clenching his tongue. Juices run out of you, spilling down Eddie's chin and onto his chest. He holds you steady as your legs threaten to give out, they tremble violently as pure bliss cascades through you. Your release brings Eddie to the end as well, his cum shooting in thick ropes down your throat. You swallow every last bit, your head falling onto his hip once he's finished.

But Eddie doesn't stop using his mouth on you, building you up yet again like his life depends on it. "Fuck, Eddie. You're gonna make me cum again." You cry out, tears stinging your eyes. Your high doesn't end, only dulls as he tries to give you another. His hands are hooked around your hips, holding you firmly in place. He's like a goddamn machine, whose only purpose is to get you off. "Oh, god!" You scream, your nails digging into Eddie's thighs as you cum on his face, even harder than all the previous times tonight. He's getting absolutely soaked by you, but he still doesn't want to stop. You hear your arousal leaking onto him, almost worried he's going to drown. But he keeps going, not letting you have a second to breathe.

You're panting wildly, constant tears staining your cheeks as his fucks you with his mouth. He keeps moaning against you, trying to make your head blow into smithereens. You've almost drawn blood as you continue to cling to him, making ungodly sounds as you're on the precipice of yet another fucking orgasm. His lips leave you for just a second. "Come on, angel. Just one more for me, be a good girl." He's breathing so hard, it's like he ran a marathon. Though when you think about it, he kind of has in a way. He adds his fingers to the mix, hammering them into you while licking your clit again.

"Eddie!" You scream, loud enough that you suspect the whole trailer park can hear you. Yet again, Eddie has managed to make you cum harder than you ever have before. It's like you're splitting in half, blinding white heat engulfing you in thick flames. An obscene amount of juices gush from you, more than you thought humanly possible. It all splashes onto Eddie, soaking his face, his hair, his chest, and the bed beneath you. You collapse, laying over Eddie's body. All you can see is stars, and your legs won't stop convulsing. The oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, you've forgotten how to breathe. Once it comes back to you, your chest heaves harshly as you gulp in air. You sob uncontrollably, unable to move.

"Y/N?" Eddie asks, watching you lay helplessly on top of him. He notices you crying, quickly slipping out from under you to rush to your side. He helps you sit up, taking a spot next to you. He's shiny with sweat and your cum, holding your head close to his chest. "Shhh, it's okay, angel. Just relax and breathe, okay?" He coos at you, stroking your damp hair comfortingly. Eddie keeps holding you, trying to calm you down. You focus on your breathing, eventually getting it mostly back to normal. You sit fully upright, gazing into his eyes. He looks so worried, but he shouldn't be. "Was it too much, baby?" He asks, cursing himself for how overzealous he was with you.

"No, Eddie. I promise it was amazing, I've never cum so hard before. God, I love you." You pull his slippery face to yours, kissing him deeply to show how much you mean what you're saying. "It wasn't too much for you, was it? I was worried you were gonna drown." You ask as you pull away, but he just smiles.

"I love you too, baby. And you were absolutely perfect, Y/N. So fuckin' sexy, though I imagine we'll both need some water and a shower." He chuckles, glancing at the head of the bed. "Probably some clean sheets too." And you both laugh heartily together. "Let's get cleaned up, darling. Then we can cuddle in bed and I'll read to you." Eddie stands, taking your hand to lead you to the bathroom.

Once you're nice and clean again, and the bed has been tidied up, the two of you get under the covers. Eddie pulls out a Stephen King novel, opening it to the dog-eared page he left off on. You lay your head on his chest, eagerly waiting to hear what happens next in the story. "Happy anniversary, Eds." You say just before he begins to read, craning your neck to give him another kiss.

"Happy anniversary, princess." He meets you in the middle, his heart skipping a beat as your plush lips touch his. "Now, be quiet so we can see what happens with this evil clown." He chides you jokingly, making you giggle. One of his arms wraps around you, while the other holds the paperback open to find his place. You hum lowly as his fingers stroke your back, barely brushing against your skin. He starts to read, his words and warmth putting you in a very content state. "Henry Bowers had gotten too big too fast to be either quick or agile under ordinary circumstances..." He goes on, reading calmly to you in a velvety voice until you fall asleep.

The end.

[espace--positif]

This image from the third Elden Ring Book of Knowledge on SOTE has been circulating, and people are citing it as proof that Radahn was a willing participant in Miquella's plans. I don't think these words can serve as definitive proof, and I maintain that Radahn was controlled by Miquella. Here's why.

Image credits: @/Siofra_Mariner on Twitter

To me, the words "their order" and "their cause" don't prove that Radahn is united with Miquella by choice. These deliberate words make me think of Leda's group, Those United in Common Cause, who end up at odds with each other when Miquella's charm inevitably breaks. I think that that very same influence is being alluded to here, with Miquella having used his influence to control Radahn and join him to his cause.

The words "Miquella will intervene once again" imply that Miquella has to fight against some form of natural current, has to change the course of fate, in order to succeed (or try to succeed) at defeating the Lord of the Old Order; to me, the first time he intervened and changed the course of fate is referred to in the first paragraph, where they detail his resurrection of Radahn's body, free of scarlet rot. The text also refers to Radahn's "deserved rest" - again implying that Miquella's resurrection and use of Radahn is somewhat unnatural and morally wrong. If Radahn truly were a willing participant, I don't think that it would have been referred to this way. The story of one intervening with another's fate ironically occurs earlier in the base game, with Radahn stilling Ranni's fate by holding back the stars.

Next, I want to talk about, guess what, more wording.

"Miquella's wish to instill Radahn as his Promised Consort upon his ascent to godhood, a promise he made to Radahn in their childhood."

Note that the wish is Miquella's wish, not Miquella and Radahn's wish, not their collective wish. The word promise is also interesting if we look at the way Miquella uses the word in the DLC dialogue, and towards whom it's directed.

"I promise you, a thousand year voyage, guided by compassion."

Miquella says this to the Tarnished when they are grabbed. Two grabs, and the Tarnished gets their "Heart Stolen", charmed by Miquella forevermore. The Tarnished is resistant, and this is one way through which Miquella deals with resistance.

To Miquella, promises and vows are not shared agreements, but they are the way he enacts his will and influence upon others. They are unidirectional, assured, and a means to an end. His compassion extends to all, but strips all free will, and Radahn's is no exception.

A few notes that didn't fit into any of the above points:

This is my interpretation of the game and the text, and I always enjoy reading other people's interpretations. I think that's the great thing about Elden Ring's ambiguous lore; there can be many readings, and we'll really never know which are right.

I'm very biased when it comes to the topic of Miquella's desecration of both Radahn and Mohg, one in body, and one in soul - I feel like it really cemented how wrong Miquella ended up turning after abandoning all those aspects of himself in the Land of Shadow, and I felt all kinds of icky and sad when I finished the DLC because of this. St. Trina's being discarded and her death was devastating, especially when she was one of the most human and compassionate characters in Elden Ring, granting respite to all the frenzied merchants out of true compassion.

I do believe that Miquella is a victim of the cycle, though, and that he lost himself in more ways than one after witnessing what happened to his mother. To Miquella, the only way to make people stop doing horrible things is to stop them from doing anything of their own volition at all. In theory, it works. But it is so sad. I'm reminded of Melina's dialogue when you choose to inherit the frenzied flame: "However ruined this world has become, however mired in torment and despair, life endures. Births continue. There is beauty in that, is there not?" I sympathize with Miquella, I really do. I understand that he did all this because he not find any alternatives. The world being comprised of cyclical happenings that one person cannot fix is a recurring theme in Souls in general, and Miquella is just another victim of another cycle, which ends up begetting more violence, much like the violence enacted on Marika which prompted Miquella to try and fix things in the first place.

That’s it! I really needed to get this off my chest, and it definitely didn’t fit into a tweet (which is where all the discourse is happening lol). If you made it to the bottom of this yap, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this as well! Thanks for reading my ramblings <3

[ash5monster01]

feeling down rn after seeing my best friend from middle school hanging out with other two girls i personally knew from college so maybe a fic where charlie realizes that he and his childhood friend are slowly drifting apart? (idk if u ever received a req like this so i apologize if u did ash)

Not The Same

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, minor language, mentions of teasing, slight jealousy, heavy attraction

Summary: When Charlie returns home after being expelled he has no hope left for anything in life, that is until he spots you outside his window.

word count: 1k

Masterlist

It was a weird thing. This sinking feeling in Charlie’s gut when he sees you across the street. Laughing at something two boys said with your books clutched tightly to your chest. It had been a long time since you laughed at anything he said like that. It was weird because he had once felt burdened by you. Two neighbor kids forced together and yeah, you were his best friend, but not by choice. So why was he suddenly jealous that you were not as close to him anymore but seemingly close with two other boys.

He really had no right, drifting from you the moment he started going to Welton. The friendship growing further and further apart. Now he only saw you briefly in the summer. Passing waves and stolen glances. Maybe a family barbecue or two. Now he knew nothing about you and that fact hit him like a ton of bricks. Especially now that he was home for an undecided amount of time. Taken away from all his friends just to realize he didn’t have anymore here either.

It shouldn't of hit him as hard as it did, he had planned to wallow in self pity, stay locked away tightly in his room. Instead he was attached to his bedroom window, eyes constantly searching for even just a glimpse of you. With how lonley he felt, it was the only thing he found comfort in, a warmth in your smile. Memories flashing of all the times he had teased you until you wailed for him to stop. All those years of finding you annoying but not understanding why he always wanted to be with you.

Suddenly when the two boys begin to walk away, Charlie leaps from his spot and barrels down the town house stairs. He’s not sure why, especially when he rushes through the door into the frigid cold without a jacket. You don’t even see him when he shuffles towards you still in his house shoes. It isn’t until he calls your name in a desperate plea do you turn to face him. Your face is tinted red from the chill or the aftermath of a blush from the two boys. Either way Charlie wonders if you have always been this beautiful.

“Charlie Dalton, what are you doing here?” you can’t help but ask, books pressed tightly to your chest and fingers tucked delicately into some mittens your mother had knit.

“Home for the holidays” he rushes out quickly, feeling a bit like a fool and embarrassed admitting he was kicked out of school. You snort at the boy, a soft shake of your head as you look at him.

“Isn’t it a bit early for that?” you ask, knowing more about the boy than you seemed to recall. Charlie had always been an after thought, especially when he went to Welton. Now standing in front of you was a handsome man with a boyish grin. It takes everything in you to remember if he was this handsome last summer.

“Finished my exams early” Charlie shrugs which is untrue but the ease he feels in his heart even talking to you stops him from being honest. It’s the first time he’s ever wished he hadn’t drifted away from you.

“Well it’s good to see you. Get inside before you freeze” you nod your head towards the house beside your own but Charlie isn’t cold. In fact this was the warmest he had felt since the night he had found out about Neil.

“Can we hang out?” he asks, voice hopeful and somewhat pleading. He would rather stand here and freeze if it meant being close to you again.

“Charlie we haven’t hung out since we were ten” you chuckle, amused and trying to understand the sudden proximity to the boy. What you couldn’t describe was the urge to say yes and hang out with him too.

“Eleven actually” and you roll your eyes at the relentless boy who hasn’t changed since you were kids. The same old Charlie, just grown.

“Either way you hated hanging out with me. You ripped the heads off my dolls and shoved me in the dirt any chance you got” you tell him and Charlie blushes because he knows it’s all true. Yet now he also knew it was the only way he was able to process his feelings towards you when he was a young and immature boy.

“Who’s to say I still will? I doubt you have any dolls now and I haven’t shoved you yet. There’s a perfectly good snow bank right here begging for it” Charlie points to the pile of freshly plowed snow against the sidewalk and you can’t help the belly laugh that leaves you.

“You haven’t changed at all” you say more as a statement and Charlie’s eyes bore into you as he waits for an answer to his hanging question.

“So about hanging out?” he tries again and you shake your head, a wide smile across your face as you look at the boy you once praised God for getting rid of. Yet now he stands in front of you a man, different from the boy you once drifted away from and wondered why it made you so sad.

“Sure, we can hangout, but the second you pull my hair or call me a mean name I’m leaving” and Charlie breaks out into a full on grin before holding a hand out to you.

“Deal” he says and you chuckle before putting your mitten covered hand into his own. The second you touch you can’t deny the butterflies that erupt in your stomach. When it dawns on you that it hadn’t even been skin on skin contact you realize you’re in deep shit. No longer prone to the charms of Charlie Dalton. Very close to crossing the line of having feelings for the annoyingly cocky boy. So you shouldn’t say it, but you do anyway.

“Deal”