#if they look familiar by any chance

[genialtomfool]

Last two

[ch1zzie]

The original in the bottom

Plus the picture I mainly drew but decided to draw the rest for funny

[primuses-least-favorite-child]

@tf-ore

It's that time again~

[shannonsketches]

something something foils moving in opposite directions Goku's always happy to seek and fight stronger opponents because he spent most of his life being the strongest guy in the room and Vegeta wants to be the strongest/is always exhausted to find stronger opponents because he spent most of his life having to navigate his survival around the whims of the strongest guy in the universe room and so Goku has a foundation of safety and stability and so spends his time craving challenge and adventure and Vegeta has a foundation of challenge and adventure and spends his time craving safety and stability and the overlaid section of their venn diagram is that the only way they know how acquire and maintain those things is through battle

[thisselflovecamebacktome]

Without being creepy, is there any way to know when Georgia Davies moved to Sydney as a kid?

[dndspellgifs]

look, I know I've talked about this essay (?) before but like,

If you ever needed a good demonstration of the quote "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic", have I got an exercise for you.

Somebody made a small article explaining the basics of atomic theory but it's written in Anglish. Anglish is basically a made-up version of English where they remove any elements (words, prefixes, etc) that were originally borrowed from romance languages like french and latin, as well as greek and other foreign loanwords, keeping only those of germanic origin.

What happens is an english which is for the most part intelligible, but since a lot everyday english, and especially the scientific vocabulary, has has heavy latin and greek influence, they have to make up new words from the existing germanic-english vocabulary. For me it kind of reads super viking-ey.

Anyway when you read this article on atomic theory, in Anglish called Uncleftish Beholding, you get this text which kind of reads like a fantasy novel. Like in my mind it feels like it recontextualizes advanced scientific concepts to explain it to a viking audience from ancient times.

Even though you're familiar with the scientific ideas, because it bypasses the normal language we use for these concepts, you get a chance to examine these ideas as if you were a visitor from another civilization - and guess what, it does feel like it's about magic. It has a mythical quality to it, like it feels like a book about magic written during viking times. For me this has the same vibe as reading deep magic lore from a Robert Jordan book.

[fanfoolishness]

Just losing my mind at the implications that the companions have all been trying to help Rook grieve Varric, and Rook doesn’t know

Emmrich, wise and long-familiar with grief, being told by Neve and Harding what happened; understanding why sometimes he overhears Rook’s muffled voice in the Infirmary, talking to no one. He takes Rook to the Memorial Gardens and mentions he talks to his parents, thinking Rook might be comfortable with the same. Rook lights candles and rings bells but Emmrich watches, sorrowed, to see Rook still seems in deep denial.

Neve takes Rook to the Wall of Light; a Shadow Dragon Rook knows just what this means but any Rook can understand the solemnity, the power of remembrance. Neve reenergizes Brom’s light and looks to Rook, hoping Rook will mention wanting to make one for Varric. Rook is kind and comforting to Neve, but Neve is lost in wondering why Rook doesn’t take the chance to open up. She can’t figure it. Maybe Rook just can’t face it, not yet. Maybe Rook does something privately. She isn’t sure but it nags at her.

Davrin’s not big on talking about feelings. He’d rather just move on. But he sees the way Rook seems a little hollow sometimes, a little distant; he sees how Rook takes so quickly to Assan. “Hey Rook,” he says, and invites them to come with him and Assan to safe places in Arlathan, where the woods are clean and green and growing, where real sunlight dapples through the trees. Rook always seems to love these outings, seems lighter afterwards. But Davrin feels a little confused in that Rook never seems to realize the outings are mostly for them.

Taash is another person not big on feelings. But they know how much feelings can twist you up and mess with your head. When Lace tells them about Varric they feel badly for Rook, and think to how they feel when they’re struggling. Epic fights, dragon fights, drinks with the Lords. Taash is perfectly capable of doing all that on their own. But maybe bringing Rook along will help get them out of their head a little bit. Does it help? Taash isn’t sure.

Bellara’s double-versed in grief after what happens to Cyrian. Rook helped her through trying to reach him, and Bellara wonders, in her own pain, if she can help Rook a little bit too. Especially if Rook is elven, teaching Rook about the braziers and the challenges is another tool she can share about her or their people, another way that might help Rook with their grief. Neve’s told her that the Wall of Light didn’t seem to help Rook much, but maybe a different funeral tradition could help them instead. Rook helps her light the braziers and Bellara feels her heart lightening, though she wonders at Rook, who seems more moved by Bellara’s reactions than anything else.

Lucanis is nearly as allergic to dealing with feelings as Davrin is, but he immediately clocks how Neve and Harding are acting, and asks what happened before he joined them. They tell him about Varric and that they’re worried about Rook, that Rook seems to just be shoving those feelings down without dealing with them. Lucanis is no stranger to that, but while it’s fine for him, he doesn’t want to see someone who risked their life to save him share that struggle. He brings Rook to Caterina’s funeral planning to show Rook it’s okay to admit the loss and honor it. When that doesn’t seem to make a dent, he falls back to his standard - lavish meals, small gifts, coffee. He knows it would help him. He just wishes it helped Rook too.

Lace hurts the worst after losing Varric and Lace is where Solas’ magic comes the closest to faltering. Rook can see Lace is down, she’s quiet, she’s afraid after what happens with the gods escaping; but Solas’ magic holds and Rook can still never see quite why. Lace would love to sit over drinks one night and share stories about Varric, but she sees that Rook doesn’t seem ready, and she doesn’t want to push. Instead she writes letters to Ma, to the Inquisitor, to Cassandra, to Aveline, maybe even to Hawke. She writes out her stories with Varric’s old quill and she carries a bolt of Bianca with her. A dozen times she goes to talk to Rook about him, and when she tries Rook turns away or changes the subject. It hurts, but Lace knows she can’t make Rook talk about him, and she hopes in time it will get better.

This just absolutely crushes me the more I think about it 😭

Edit: Varric’s death is Rook’s personal companion quest every other single companion tries to help them with, and can’t 😭😭😭

[ttsukiimi]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ RICHTIVITIES PT. 2!

richhusband!Nanami who has you come over to his office when he’s needy, sneaking you in under the guise of bringing his forgotten bento box, but in actuality, he has you split open on his cock with a big hand covering your mouth to muffle the incessant loud moans that are leaving your lips. Muscles tense as he struggles to contain his urge to unleash thrust after thrust to your miserable cunt, his sculpted stomach flush to your back as he keeps your legs open.

richhusband!Nanami whose fingers move expertly across your mound, drawing your clit in circles ‘till you’re squirting all over his crisp and expensive slacks, and he’s whispering in your ear about how gorgeous you look all spread out for him. His thick fingers playing with your hardened nipples through the pink blouse you’d chosen to wear.

richhusband!Nanami who has to cup a hand over your mouth once he hears footsteps and a familiar voice nearing his office door, though he’s not giving you any chance to quiet down with the way he’s ramming his hips up into you. Once he shoo’s whoever it was away, he’s repositioning you so you’re bent over his desk, disregarding the paperwork scattered all over.

richhusband!Nanami who takes his time with you, now slowly and languidly driving himself into your sex. And, as you both cum together, there forms that white ring of juices on the base of his cock he loves oh, so much.

richhusband!Nanami who slides your panties back in place after he’s done, kissing you so passionately it sweeps you up into a state of pure bliss. He’s pulling out his wallet, kissing you again, and placing a wad of cash between your tits. “Get yourself something, sweetheart. I’ll be home shortly.”

[diorkittys]

somethin’ sweet before i go ˚ ♡ ⋆｡ vi + fem!reader

synopsis : when your arrest turns out to be an attractive, arrogant zaunite who’s, obviously, had a bad night, there’s one thing she asks for before being turned in. c’mon, can’t you give her something sweet before handing her to a cold cell?

—TW : kinda hate fucking , fingering , dom!vi , afab , post jinx attack

“hey, princess, any chance you’re sweet enough to loosen these up a bit?” your pinkette prisoner grunts, rolling a kink out her neck.

your expression is nothing short of unimpressed for the taunting games your newest problem has come up with. glaring up from your paperwork, you bit the inside of your cheek in frustration, “quit with the pet names—do you find your situation funny?” you turn around to face the arrogant zaunite, cuffed hands extended behind her back. you found it rather annoying how nonchalant she was—or worst, she found this amusing. “you are being detained for assault,” you continue, “that’s a night in jail, ‘sweet stuff.’” mocking her previous taunt.

she just scoffed, but it was far from being insulted. a sly smirk and dangerous blue eyes peaking beneath cherry strands looked up at you.

“ya’ think i’m sweet, princess?”

you hear the familiar clanking of metal rubbing against each other, bringing attention to her restraints.

“undo the cuffs and i’ll treat you sweet all nigh-“ her prurient statement cut off by the force of your forearm knocking into her chest, subsequently shoving her against the wall.

“you forget yourself, trencher,” your arm jabs in the smug, although rather charming (and quite attractive), outlaw’s chest, and her eye twitches in a wince. “you’re in my territory now—it’d suit you well to not make a fool of me; i’m sure you’ve been taught the same in that… mess of a city across the bridge.”

your tongue held venom as you almost seemingly spat out the insult like it was truly sickening to speak of. there’s an unspoken challenge being held between the both of your glares. you tack on a huff from your flared nostrils to seal the conversation and to warn the zaunite in front of you from talking back.

but as the tense silence subsides, the cherry-haired woman draws out a teasing smirk, scoffing again, “ever been to the undercity, sweet-cheeks?”

her question seemed more rhetorical than anything. you didn’t answer, clenching your jaw, keeping your eyes fixated on hers as to not give a look of submission. she took your quietness as a ‘no’ and raised a brow,

“thought so.”

she leaned her head in closer, as close as your arm would allow—although, there wasn’t much distance to set you apart anyways. her eyes lidded now as your confidence wavered from the almost predatory air hung around her; like when a lion, hidden in the tall grass, gets a perfect angle of their prey.

“they’d eat that pretty, little ass up as soon as you stepped foot beyond that bridge.”

you gasped, quietly, eyes widened at her obscene words. you could already feel your body betraying you, blood involuntarily heating up the plump of your cheeks.

the arm held sturdy against your prisoner was now weak, a second thought; not to her, no, that was accordingly.

calloused hands snaked their way to your waist, armored with enforcer gold, a symbol of integrity to wear, resolute.

your eyes flicked to the (god, she is attractive) woman near inches away; you were trapped in a lion’s den, she was already staring back at you.

“how di—when did you…”

so much for standing your ground—your stuttering voice gave it all away.

“what? get those things off?” she chuckled, motioning back behind her, “you were right ‘bout one thing, princess: i learned a whole deal in that ‘mess of a city’.”

she near whispered your quote, not hushed, but emphasized, troublingly so. her hands wandered, dangerously, coming to settle at the plush of your hips, hips that had you bent atop her. a deft thumb pushed pass your attire and gently circled into your bare skin.

“are you… are you gonna hurt me?” you pressed your lips in a fine line, apprehensively awaiting a dreaded answer.

but to your surprise, she paused, then snorted, and in a quick motion, she manhandled you to sit on her lap. you yelped in shock, your hands were rigid against her chest that you were so very close to now; stiff as a board as you feared for the worst.

“can’t a girl want somethin’ sweet before you send me to a cold, hard cell, huh?” now the finger in charge of exploring your supple skin came to swipe at your plush bottom lip. “but if you want it to hurt i can make that happen too.” her voice was sultry, thick with an insatiable desire.

your proximity gave you a chance to see the small initial tattooed on her cheek, “vi.” you spoke out loud, really only for you to memorize.

vi smirked, “yeah, princess? don’t wear it out just yet.”

your brows furrowed, pursing your lips; you tried to move, but vi had a firm hold on your hips that just wouldn’t let up… (not that you even tried that hard). “piltover station will be here soon… we can’t—i can’t be seen like this; this is unprofessional.”

“when’d you make that call?” honestly, vi was barely listening to your reluctance and excuses, busying herself with unfastening your gold belt that you hardly even noticed.

“an hour ago.”

“then we have an hour to ourselves. c’mon, do you really think ‘proper piltover station’ is any more worried about a call for an undercity scum than the rest of the hundred they receive a day? they’re preoccupied with the councilors after that attack… seems to me like they left you out the loop, hot stuff.”

you took offense to her insulting jab at your importance, disregarding her sing-song mockery of addressing piltover station. you reached for her wrist that was unbuttoning the blue fabric of your enforcer two-split skirt, “what is that supposed to mean?”

she took no notice to your grip and pushed aside the outer garment, glancing back up at you through that addictive, crimson hair. she gave a dry smirk, “didn’t mean to rile you up, princess—just meant that i could treat you better than them.”

that betraying flush tickled your cheeks once again, and you, rather hesitantly, let way of your grasp, allowing her to do what she needs.

she snorted, in an amused manner, tapping your thigh, “sit up.” how shameful it was for you, an enforcer, to take commands from anyone else—let alone an… undersider. yet, here you were, standing upright as she told you to, albeit a little more eager than intended; you hoped she hadn’t noticed.

she noticed.

her legs spread out on the chair, making her appear even larger than her stature gave her credit for. she bent over, resting her elbows on her thighs as she pulled at the hem of your khaki shorts. you assisted and looped two thumbs at the waistband to shimmy down your legs. your shorts pooled at your feet and vi leaned back to admire the sexy sight she had in front of her with a grin on her face.

a pretty enforcer, nervous as can be, with a half-undone uniform and pink, lace panties exposed just for her. what a contrasting view. you were captivating. already trained to take orders like a puppy, she’d think in her crude mind; you’d be her good girl for a while, you’d be so good for her.

with two fingers, she motioned for you to come sit back down on her lap; the way her legs manspread was inviting enough. you obliged, holding onto her broad shoulders.

those engrossing fingers came back to handle your hips, slowly moving to cup the mound of your ass and kneading. you huffed, painted nails digging into her trapezius.

“ya’ like pink, princess?” she mentioned your cute, lacey panties; although, now stained a darker shade.

your eyes flickered up to her hair before timidly searching anywhere else to keep your focus busy. vi found that cute, not admitting that that turned her on way more than it should.

“i don’t disdain it.” you purse your lips, “and quit calling me that.”

vi chuckled, “but you’re poised, like a princess.”

“you have no idea of me.”

“well, i know you’re risking your title just so i can get you off,” fingers go to trace the hem of your panties, her middle drags along your clit muffled by the fabric. she grins, “and by the looks of it, you’re enjoying the thrill.”

you gasp at the sensation, a feeling your pussy was aching for. “is it because you know we might get caught? geez, princess, you into that kind of thing?” she almost laughs at you, but not to mock you; she finds that hot as fuck.

adept hands push the annoying polyester to the side. fingers, rather spider-like, creep over your throbbing cunt; middle and index gather your pooling slick to act as lube as she glides over your clit.

you bite your lip to suppress a moan. you find your legs begin to tremble, being forced open by her own, keeping you spread for her to do as she likes.

“i didn’t know topsiders could be so dirty.” this time she does laugh. she rubs at your clit long enough for your heart rate to pick up, long enough for your head to find stability on her shoulder, long enough for you to become a mess in her hands… but, not long enough for you to get off just yet.

vi reaches down to your neglected hole, pressing her index atop it, deep enough for an audible squelch to echo through your office, which in turn makes vi groan. you mewl, nails digging deeper into the muscle of her back.

“not so poised now, though.” she mutters, mostly to herself. with your dripping slick, it takes nothing more than a swift movement for vi to slide her index inside you, bottoming out knuckles deep. you keen, arching off her chest. the scratch from her bandages only added fuel to the fire.

“fuck.” vi’s grip on your hip strengthens, almost certainly leaving a prominent bruise later. “do that for me again, princess.”

and she didn’t have to ask because as she pulls her finger almost fully out, tantalizingly slow, she greedily shoves it right back in, curling the tip of it to hit in that, god, that perfect spot you know so well.

and, again, you keen, long and guttural—like a silent scream. subconsciously, your pelvis bucks into her hand, searching for more than you could even take.

after a few minutes of this, vi deems herself your voice and determines you’re ready for two. she pulls out entirely, much to your dismay, teasing you with a pause.

you brace yourself for something that never comes, and you huff, slightly pushing yourself up off her shoulder,

“vi… don’t st—“

and she stuffs her middle and index into your pretty, impatient pussy.

“ah!”

“who said i was stopping, pumpkin? we just started.” you slam your head back to its assigned spot.

vi thought she was right in this moment: you looked a complete and utter mess. it was one thing to fuck a pretty girl, it was another thing that she had a topsider, an officer—someone who, to piltover, was a woman of dignity and honor… a rich, privileged somebody who hated zaunites, found them filthy and worthless…hunched over her shoulder with a sopping cunt you were practically begging her to abuse. now that’s ironic. (and was you coming undone for her maybe a little bit of a victory for her hatred of topside, that she was degrading—fucking someone so noble?)

“shit, baby,” vi cursed, biting her lip. her whole train of thought did nothing but make her more horny, and she pumped extra hard this time, making sure even the graze of her knuckle filled you up.

“when’s the last time someone’s fucked you like this?” she chuckled—you hated her smug little laugh.

you sneered, just not before you moaned into the crook of her neck, breath fanning over her black-inked tattoos. “that’s, fuck, none of your concern, underside.” you spat, but, really, your words held no weight, not like this.

“hey, no need for the name calling, princess; if you’re a virgin too that’s totally fine—honestly kinda hot.” she teased, grabbing the mound of your ass to raise you up and slam back down on her fingers. you cried, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in that (rememberable) cherry hair.

“i’m not!—i’ve had—ugh! i’ve done this plenty of times… not that, ah, you should need to know.”

“oh yeah? you fuck a lot of your inmates then?… or is that just my privilege?” vi leaned into your ear, knowing that’d get you going. and what do you know? it did.

and you would’ve argued back, head picked up and everything, had she not curled her fingers the way she did or twist to find an ever better playing field or, god! even the lechery in her voice had you toppling over, had you right there! yes, fuck, right there!

“fuck, vi, right there! keep going! yeah, right there, ugh!” you moaned, legs shaking, trying desperately to close and hide away from how fucking good this felt.

you bucked into her hand and you didn’t have to tell vi twice because she was already pumping extra hard and faster than before, with a combination of her thumb rubbing circles into your swollen clit.

“shit, princess. almost there?” she already knew the answer. she was groaning as if she was fucking herself; just the pure sight of you, of this, was enough… although, she’d need to engrave this memory into her brain and use it later to get off herself (she could use this picture of you to get off for years it felt like).

“vi!”

you sang like gospel, pulling her hair like you’d fall if you hadn’t. you came hard, right on her bandaged fingers and she road you through it until the only thing you could hear in the room was the lewd, wet noises coming from your hole.

she stuffed you full of your own juices and at that point, you couldn’t tell if that or her hands were more filling.

you were both panting, one more than the other. vi hoisted your left leg over hers to hold you bridal style as you settled down. bringing her hand to the light, she pulled apart her middle and index to watch your slick web between them and she weakly laughed.

blue eyes looked over to the gold, industrial clock you had sitting on your work-desk, reading a quarter til’ 12. she sighed, picking you up with her before setting you on the chair you had originally handcuffed her to.

“looks like i gotta go, princess.” she feigned innocent, as if this whole interaction was a drive by. one by one she picked up discarded clothing and crouched at your legs to dress you back up. you, too tired to protest to being treated like a child, let her dress you like a doll, even buckling up your belt.

you watched as she went to write something on a piece of sticky note paper you had sitting by your confidential files before turning to walk out the door, running a hand through her hair.

“you can’t leave—you’re… you’re under arrest.” there was no confidence in your tone, just a fucked out raspy voice.

vi stopped before leaving, hands in her pockets, “tell ‘em officer kiramann already came to pick me up, they won’t give you trouble.” she threw the hood of her red jacket over her head, reaching for the doorknob.

“oh, and… meet me at my place if you wanna do this again… okay, princess?”

[meownotgood]

arcane season 2 spoilers

════════════════════

"Can you feel anything?" 

Viktor's foreign body shudders against his will; your fingertips trace down his chest, tingling, sparking, akin to little specks of light burning into his second-skin. The sound of your muddled voice barely registers. His head tosses back with a slight thud, hair fanned out as a halo. He allows your knees to bracket his waist, and keeps his arms sprawled above him — despite the aching in his dead heart to just touch you. The pulsing of the arcane beneath his system is hardly under control yet. 

It would be a risk he's willing to take, a necessary step to learn, if it were anyone else besides you. 

And Viktor does feel — so much, in fact, but it isn't anything explainable. The festering in his core, threatening to come up through his throat. The whirring, the throbbing of every muscle, rich with glowing rivers of purple. Shining with a mixture of magic and energy and his own blood. 

He's only distantly aware of your hand when it reaches his stomach, examining the juncture between cool metal and unholy flesh. Gears and bolts mimic the outline of ribs. Your touches are curious, distinctly gentle. Picking up on old habits, and trying not to break him, still. Then, your palm reaches up; it boldly cradles his cheek, brushes his pallid skin. And this, he can sense. 

It's familiar, human. Excruciatingly soft when your thumb brushes the space on his cheek, just above his beauty mark. It puts an easy feeling back in his chest, something he almost began to believe he'd forgotten. As warm as a shimmering sun, as molten as liquid gold. 

Nothing else matters but this moment, but you, and him. There is no outcome, across each expansive universe and every edge of the arcane, where the two of you would not meet again like this. You were meant to. Born and reborn to. 

Your gaze finds his, soft eyes glancing down at him, your expression crossed between pain and relief. You eclipse all of his vision: light fuzzy at your edges, your face a hazy memory that he'd still see with his eyes closed. You're a reminder of what it means to be alive. 

Viktor doesn't envy you. You've told him of nightmares, before. Dreams you had before this, of your mind putting yourself through the tragedy of watching him die ages before you truly had to. It must be difficult to see him like this, despite your best attempts to hide any uncertainty. 

Your hand shakes. He can feel it trembling, unsteady on his cheek. And every molecule in Viktor's system explodes, laced with the yearning to remember — to let hazy lovesickness swell within his palms and his new figments. To pull you closer, in an effort to convince himself you won't be taken away. 

Every echo of you is innate. Your voice, your name, your fingerprints. Your presence has the Hexcore — or what's become of him, what has embodied the Hexcore — blissfully, endlessly silent. The way you look at him, soft and brutally innocent, puts a chasmic, vivid hole in his center. Gods, you still look at him the same, just as you did when the two of you were young and innocent. The rot in him tells him he isn't worthy of it. 

Viktor's eyes swirl like kaleidoscopes. Drops of crimson swirling in pure water. Your brows pinch, a sight he finds frustrating and pretty, as you silently examine him. Emotions curl in your lungs, tearing and hungry and knife-like; stricken with attachment, or perhaps blaming yourself, Viktor figures. 

Exhaustion runs heavy in your expression, reminding him of looking into a mirror. He knows this look. You haven't slept. Haven't given yourself any form of a break, it seems.

So, he takes a chance. 

Your hand brushes some stray, messy strands of hair from his forehead, just as Viktor guides his weak arm to reach for you. You don't tense, don't move. He can hear your breathing, thinks he can still feel his. There isn't an ounce of fear in the way you look at him. You have always looked at him like he holds the world in his hands. And now, perhaps he does. 

His hand finds your cheek, same as yours. Copying, following. Thin, delicate, purple-hued fingers trace the edge of your face clumsily, still learning how to touch. Still afraid the line between hurt and healing might be blurred, and you are the one person left that he can't let get caught in the crossfire. You lean into his palm, trusting, and let go of a breath that makes your shoulders shake with the weight of it. 

Viktor thinks of crying, despite the press and pull in his chest that convinces him he shouldn't be able to. He can feel you. It isn't like the few touches he's experienced so far, or the aching, anomalous strength he's been forced to get used to. It contradicts the very constructs of everything he thought made sense. 

Your skin is so soft, sickly familiar. Viktor holds your face shakily, afraid to move. He can feel your individual atoms. Innumerable sparks just beneath his touch, galaxies upon universes of stars in your name, that beg to be grasped, possessed, cured. He cradles you with all of the devotion of a prophet, with all of the tenderness of a past friend: an almost-destiny, a saved seat at the edge of something more. 

Would clumsily pulling you in, and pressing his lips to yours feel wrong, or tangible — like nothing, or like everything? 

"Vik?" 

Your tone, sweeter than honeysuckle, sweeter than anything he might deserve, brings his vision back into focus. He blinks. Gaze never tearing away from his, your fingertips drop to thread the hard edge of his collarbone. A silent plea, can you feel this? You find each curve of his bones and his body easily, the details already memorized. Viktor senses the ghost of you, your touch gentle, something like home. 

"I'm not sure," Viktor finally answers; and the scientist, Hexgate creator, still-ambitious part of himself is hardly satisfied with that answer. His voice is quiet, distant. As though he isn't there, despite the lingering, familiar tenderness to his tone. 

The fried synapses in his brain can't yet separate a caress from a threat, he just perceives the lingering energy. He believes you could be the one to teach him the difference. 

This time, you let your palm press flat to his chest. There's a hum that attempts to mimic a heartbeat, a lack of coolness or heat. The action presses your form closer to his, guides you to lean part of your weight on him to bring your faces far too close. Sharing in the same reflection. Allowing each breath to be measured, along with every hesitation. 

What should he start with? Should he embrace you, holding you tight and close like you're sacrificial? Should he grab your hand in his, press his palm to your skin to measure your heartbeat? Lace his smallest finger with yours, to make you a promise like he used to? 

He can't promise you peace, nor the life you deserve, but if you came for him now, was it not a swear to follow him anywhere? 

There are still so many things left to feel, and every red thread has always begun and ended with you. 

Can you feel anything? 

Viktor guides a hand over yours, keeps it to his chest selfishly; he meets your gaze, he hums, "Are you eager to find out?" 

[daydreamer-in-reverie]

Started rereading the Hunger Games series and I feel like it’s so overlooked how in 74th and 75th Hunger Games, we don’t know every Tribute’s names, with Katniss only referring to them by their District numbers but in TBOSAS, we knew every single Tribute by name. We associated them with the clothes they wore on the Reaping Day and Suzanne even goes so far as to describe how they looked, however briefly. We see these Tributes and we’re familiarized with them by the little tidbits provided to the mentors and to Snow and Lucy Gray. But we never get this in the original trilogy.

In two generations, President Snow alienated the Districts from each other so much that Katniss didn’t even care to know all the names of the Tributes sent into the Arena with her, with the exception being those who posed great risk against her safety and those she felt great compassion for (e.g. Cato, Thresh, Rue, Mags, Betee, Wiress etc.). Katniss even went so far as to call the D6 Tributes in the 75th Hunger Games morphlings, for their affinity to imbibe in the drugs that help them forget their own traumas (an incredibly hurtful description, in my own opinion, to be known by the qualities you hate the most about yourself). We never know the real name of the 74th D5 girl, with Katniss only referring to her as Foxface and we don’t even know Marvel’s name until we get to the second book and he was Katniss’ first personal kill. Katniss even kills the D4 girl in the books with the same tracker jacker venom that killed Glimmer and yet still, we don’t know her name. We are so removed from the identity of the other Tributes that we don’t even know what some of them looked like beyond brief descriptions of mangled bodies and dead Tributes in the bloodbath at the Cornucopia.

And, the thing is, Suzanne established the importance of names in the series. Even in real life, we recognize the importance of being named. It is a fundamental aspect of being human. If you’re ever in a perilous situation where a person might be placing your life in danger, we’re told to remind the person that you’re human. “Keep saying your name, how old you are, where you came from. Remind them you are a human being just like them.” Before any propaganda can work against a group of people, refusing to recognize a person’s name is the first step to dehumanization. And just like the people of the Districts, we don’t care enough about the other Tributes to even want to know their names. Their propaganda worked on us, the readers.

In two generations, President Snow completely wiped out any sense of familiarity and camaraderie the Districts may have shared with the other. In two generations, Snow sowed the seeds of distrust and division into the Districts so deeply that even we, the readers, were affected by the effects of Capitol propaganda. In two generations, the Districts ceased to genuinely care about the others beyond the vague sense of injustice they feel for their shared plight. It’s why Career Districts don’t seem to care about killing the other Tributes. How can you care, to show your compassion and humanity, when you can barely see them as people? Yes, they may have been in the Arena with you. Yes, they may have been starved and beaten and forced into labor like you were. Yes, they might be children just like you. Yes, they might be subjected to the same deplorable system that turned you into virtual slaves. But they are not your friends. They are not your allies. They are strange, with different customs and traditions that you have. You do not share the same values. They do not care about you. At the first chance they get, they will kill you with your bare hands and they will do it with alacrity if it meant their survival. There can only be one Victor and it can’t be them. It has to be you.

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny Has Bat-wings

Part 2

Clockwork would regret the day he taught Danny shapeshifting. The ancient time ghost thought it was wise to educate the prince/apprentice to change his appearance at will to better blend in when he traveled across universes.

Add that to the fact Clockwork has been very lenient with the prince and let him cross as amny universes as he desired.

Danny had learned how to make small alterations so far. He started by making himself taller than clockwork but after struggling to cope with low ceilings he stopped. He resorted to using tails and ears of many kinds. He usually took the time to study any animals he wanted to copy and use their traits after figuring out how they worked. He is still years away from a full transformation as this mentor said but he was determined to master at least one.

Danny's greatest discovery so far are wings. He made a full set of wings, bones and all. Although he hasn't figured out feathers (look they are more complex than patches of fur!) so he has bat wings.

Danny was more than proud to show them off to clockwork, practically bouncing off the walls as he darted back and forth.

"Very good Daniel." Clockwork said putting a hand on Danny's head and stopping the boy from moving. "Perhaps you can focus on learning to use your extra limbs now.."

Danny rolled his eyes. He already knew how to fly. He was literally doing it now. Is it really that hard to flap your wings?

Danny took it back, flying is hard.

He had found the rooftops of Bludhaven a good place to practice. Danny understood now why birds pushed their chicks out of the nest as he had to jump off roofs to get enough air to fly. Well, he wasn't flying, yet it was more flapping wildly until he could soften his landing.

Bat wings aren't really made to sit on your back comfortably so Danny had to wrap his wings around his body like a weighted blanket.

Danny learned quickly that dropping down alleyways and having his wings covering him caused people to panic and run. He didn't even get a chance to say sorry. Other times they attacked him calling him "The Bat" or "Batman", which is first off rude, and second, they could have at least called him a vampire or something.

News traveled quickly in Bludhaven right to Detective Grayson that Batman was in town. Which was weird because Bruce should be on a case right now. So it was Nightwing's job to see what was going on.

This "Batman" was clearly not Bruce. Any Gothemite worth their salt could tell that but the people of Bludhaven aren't familiar enough with bats. Speaking of bats, the "Batman" was more of a bat boy. Had ManBat had a kid, probably not.

The kid darted around and jumped from roof to roof with ease. After a few hours of practice, he'd wrap his wings around him and take a quick nap.

Usually, Bruce would demand a file be made on the kid and give him the 3rd degree on why he's here but this was Nightwing's territory. And he thought the kid was harmless if not a bit goofy.

Dick decided to stay quiet on this and letting Bludhaven have its own little Bat Boy. What's more entertaining to watch the kid learn to fly and failing when he tried to land.

[little-diable]

Lightning - Tyler Owens (smut)

I mean, we all knew this would happen. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I am DESPERATE for him. And as somebody who actually has something to do with studying tornadoes, I had to write this. I am obsessed with this fic, but I doubt this will get much attention, so please actually reblog it if you enjoyed reading it! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler and the reader are chasing tornadoes together, but when they have to step back and find shelter, things quickly change between them.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, handjob, kinda enemies to lovers, teasing and all that fun stuff

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3k words)

Wind was blowing in her face, letting her strands dance in the air while her eyes flickered between her laptop screen and the dark sky. She was surrounded by her team, trying to ignore their shouts as they decided which direction to head in. (Y/n) was torn between too many options, not liking the way this afternoon was playing out. 

It was do or die, miss or hit one of the biggest tornadoes they had come across in a while. And yet the second cell that was currently forming gave off a somewhat more promising chance of catching enough data this time around. 

“Which way will it be, lightning?” Her breath hitched in her chest as he mumbled the words, front pressed against her back. The hairs on her arms began to rise, fully focused on his closeness, allowing her to pick up on the scent of his familiar cologne, on the way his breath fanned over the back of her neck as if he was about to kiss that very spot.

“Am I dreaming? Is Tyler Owens asking for my opinion?” She slowly turned towards the handsome man. Her eyes instantly found his piercing ones, getting lost in their intense gaze while he shot her one of his signature smirks. Fuck, if he weren’t such an asshole most of the time, she would easily give in to the pull she felt, allowing him to tug her towards his bed without having to fear about the aftermath. But if there was one thing (y/n) was sure of, it was that Tyler Owens was all about playing games, toying with a woman until he eventually grew bored. He was a personification of a thunderstorm, fast moving and never ready to settle.

“Don’t let it get to your head, pretty.” She clicked her tongue with a displeased expression tugging on her features. There was no time left to study him, to curse whoever had created him for making him look this handsome. They had to stay focused, at least until she got the data she needed for her project. 

“Alright, we’re heading east.” (Y/n) closed her laptop before reaching for her bag–the bag that was snatched from her grasp before she could protest. Tyler had slung it over his shoulder while tilting his head towards his truck, silently asking her to ride with him. 

On any other occasion she would have cursed him, would have told him to fuck off. But today, while being heavily understaffed, she needed any help she could get. And knowing that Tyler drove like the devil himself, she knew she had the best chance of arriving just in time with him by her side. 

His smirk grew wider the second she gave in, begrudgingly following Tyler while her eyes found the confused ones of her teammates. She only rolled her eyes at them, raising her shoulders and dropping them again as if she was wordlessly telling them that she was just as confused as they were, not seeing through Tyler’s game just yet. 

Silence filled the truck, only a few commands left (y/n) whenever they needed to make a turn, chasing down the roads to catch up with the growing cell. All while the others followed behind them, too slow to catch up with Tyler’s truck. Her heart was pounding in her chest, riled up by the anticipation of chasing another storm – no matter how many times she had done this before, (y/n) would never get used to the thrill, the moments leading up to seeing yet another beautiful though terrifying tornado. 

“You alright, pretty?” She’d never get used to the way Tyler called her, dripping with that drawl she loved more than she’d ever admit. (Y/n) didn’t look at him, fully focused on her laptop to monitor the path their tornado took. No word left her pressed together lips, trying to drown out the feeling of his concerned eyes flickering towards her every few seconds. 

“(Y/n)?” The use of her name ripped (y/n) out of her trance, letting her wide pupils find his. She only nodded at Tyler, knowing she couldn’t waste any time on the crush she could never speak of, preferring to take her secret to the grave rather than feeding his ego–only to end up with a broken heart in the process. 

“Guys, can you hear me?” She held the radio close, speaking to the others while refocusing on the map. All they could hear was rustling, unable to pick up on the reply that was spoken on the other end. Curses clawed through (y/n), she tried to reach their teams again, while swallowing the sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. No longer could she see them in the rearview mirror, telling her that they hadn’t made it down the narrow path Tyler had taken.

The road ahead was muddy, forcing the truck to slither along while Tyler tried to avoid holes and ditches. With one hand clutching the door, (y/n) tried to hold still, not daring to bump into Tyler whose angry cusses filled the truck. Both had their eyes focused ahead, knowing that this had been the wrong choice, the wrong tornado to chase. They were heading straight towards their death if they kept going that way, knowing that without their team by their side, they wouldn’t be able to collect enough data anyway. 

“I hate being the one to say it, but we gotta find shelter, lightning.” Tyler’s annoyed groans left her nodding, giving him the green light to take a sharp left to turn towards the town close by. With the slimmest chance to find proper shelter, Tyler kept speeding along, seemingly having a spot in mind. (Y/n) was angry, at herself, at the road conditions, knowing that this situation should have played out much differently. And all she could do was trust the man she had always tried to hate.

“Come, follow me.” The truck was forced to a sudden halt. (Y/n) followed Tyler outside, holding onto her things while he reached for her free hand to pull her along. He guided her towards what appeared to be a barn, a building she paid no attention to as she studied the tornado, getting lost in its beauty for a second. “They built an underground shelter here a few years back, if we’re lucky nobody else had the time to find it.”

Tyler pushed her into the unlocked barn, letting the doors slide close again before he led her down some stairs. She didn’t dare speak, torn between too many emotions. All (y/n) could do was let go of a sigh while being ushered into the empty, dark shelter. It took her a while to adjust to the darkness, letting her hands move along the metallic wall until she found what appeared to be a light switch. She gave it a try, though without any luck, letting herself drop to the ground while Tyler stayed glued to his spot. 

If both hadn’t been too deep in thought, they would have realised that this was the first time they were sheltering together, completely alone without any nosy eyes watching them or listening to their talks. 

“We should have gone west, I’m sorry.” Her whispers filled the small shelter, luring Tyler closer who plopped down next to her. He fumbled with his phone to turn on the fleshlight, letting it rest on the ground to alight their surroundings. A few boxes were placed against the wall, filled with water and some snacks they hopefully wouldn’t have to use, praying that they’d get out of here fast enough to chase their luck once again. 

“There’s always time for another try, pretty.” Tyler reached for her hand to squeeze it before he could stop himself, forcing her eyes to focus on the spot where she now felt a buzzing sensation. She let her head roll towards Tyler, studying the white hat he took off with his free hand, placing it down on the ground, only to comb through his hair. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that thing on.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him chuckling, a sound that momentarily managed to drown out the roar of the tornado. The howling was an almost comforting sound to them, after years of chasing them, well aware of every little detail. 

“Well, you’re one of the few who gets the honour, appreciate it.” She rolled her eyes at him before ripping her gaze off of him. Heat flushed through her at his teasing, a heat that only grew more biting as she realised that they were still holding hands. Her tongue moved along her dry lips, trying to find the right words to break their silence, silently hoping that she could cherish every single second of their time together. As much as she had once sworn to hate him while burying her crush deep inside of herself, she had lost all strength to fight against it, at least for now.

“Why have we never done this before?” Tyler seemed to feel the same longing, drawing her focus back towards him with his question. His eyes had an even more piercing touch to them now, having an invisible tight grasp on her soul she didn’t want to escape from. 

“Because you’re an asshole most of the time and I can’t stand being around you for long.” (Y/n)’s sharp reply left him laughing, a loud sound that had an addicting effect on her, leaving her chuckling while shaking her head at the man. 

“You wound me, lightning. Here I was hoping you’d finally let me take you out on a date, once this day’s over.” No longer did she laugh, the sound was stuck in her throat all too suddenly.

Did he truly mean it? Was he planning on asking her out? Or was Tyler playing yet another game with her? 

“Don’t fuck with me, Owens.” His hand darted out to grasp her chin, forcing her to keep her focus on him before she could even try to turn away from him. For just a second, she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her slightly parted lips. Once again her heart was back to racing, no longer focused on the howling wind, the sounds of things crashing outside, but fully and solemnly focused on Tyler. 

“Are you scared of this thing between us?” Once again, his question managed to rob her of the air filling her lungs, not expecting him to be this direct with her. A part of (y/n) begged her to cuss him out, to make fun of the question, to escape the avalanche that was about to roll upon them, but the bigger - more desperate - part of her, managed to gain the upper hand, leading her straight towards danger.

“Well, even though you enjoy riding your fears, I prefer to face ‘em. I’m not scared, not of this, whatever this is. But I’m fucking terrified of you toying with me and dropping me the second I’m no longer interesting enough.” He let go of her, only to pull her into his lap, making her straddle his stretched out legs. They held eye contact, wordlessly daring one another to move first, to give in to the pull that was as strong as an F5 they’d happily chase on any other day. 

“I’d be fucking stupid to mess it up with you.” She felt his breath on her lips, ghosting over her soft skin like he was giving her one last chance to pull away. A chance she wouldn’t take, letting it pass while finding his lips for a soft kiss that escalated within seconds. With his hand pressed to the back of her head and his other placed on her waist, Tyler held her to him while deepening the kiss.

Their tongues fought for victory, knowing that neither of them would back down from a fight against the other, urged on by their need to gain the upper hand. Soft groans and moans left them while their bodies searched one another’s closeness, knowing that this was something they wouldn’t tell others about, preferring to keep this as their secret. 

Her hands roamed his clothed chest, feeling his muscles beneath her wandering fingers while finding her way to his belt. She toyed with the buckle for a moment while her lips were still glued to his, knowing they’d have to part any moment now to inhale some much needed breaths of air. 

“You sure you want to do this in here, lightning?” His chuckles left her grinning, while holding onto the question she had wanted to ask for a while now. 

“Why lightning?” A kiss was shared between them, much softer than the one before. Her hand was still toying with his belt, slowly undoing the buckle to wordlessly tell him she wanted this much as he did, even though they knew that it was stupid and selfish of them to hide out here while their teams were undoubtedly worrying about them. 

“Well, the first time I saw you, you struck me like lightning, brightening my darkest day.” The explanation was cheesy, and yet it still drew heat up her neck. She could only swallow, smile at him and refocus on her hands. Tyler let her move, freeing his hardening cock while his impatient hands tugged on the buttons of her blouse, letting it pop open to expose her bra-clad chest. 

“Fuck, you’re a dream.” Her eyes flickered up to his while she spat into her palm, using her saliva to lube him up. Tyler couldn’t stop his moans from clawing through him, fully focused on the way he perfectly fit into her hand, pressed against the soft skin he wanted to feel against every inch of his body. His head rolled back against the wall, eyes closed and lips parted – offering a sight that made her walls clench around nothing, proud for being the one to make him feel like that. 

Her hand added more speed to its movements, squeezing him with just enough pressure to draw another raspy moan from Tyler. He allowed himself to relish in her touch for another moment before he gently though urgently grasped her wrist to stop her from moving. 

“Will you ride me, lightning?” His accent grew thicker with every syllable, leaving her shuddering while only a soft chuckle managed to leave her. She rose to her feet to shuffle out of her jeans, keeping her eyes focused on Tyler who marvelled at her as if she was the strongest tornado he had ever been fortunate enough to see, fully mesmerised by everything about her. She kept her panties on while finding her way back to his lap, knowing that they needed to hit the road soon, not giving them a chance to do this properly. 

“Wait, here.” He reached for his back pocket to pull a condom out of his wallet, letting her rip it open to roll it down his aching cock. Both their hearts were beating in sync, knowing that they were finally about to do something they had been desperate for ever since running into one another for the first time. No matter how much anger and hatred had once grown between them, it was now turning them from opponents to lovers–or whatever it was both were trying to adjust to. 

Tyler held onto her as she sank down on him, letting her forehead fall against his shoulder for a second. No words were spoken while they had to adjust, overwhelmed by the new sensation and the whirlwind of emotions buzzing through them like a storm hitting them both. With her hands holding onto him, clinging to the fabric of the shirt he wore, she began to move, fucking herself on his twitching cock with such a passion, Tyler feared he may never want to get out of this shelter again. 

“Tyler,” his name left her, a breathy whisper he almost missed, too far gone to focus on anything but their closeness. He palmed her ass, letting his fingertips dig into her skin to leave marks that would remind her of this very moment for days to come. His hips met hers, jerking upwards to make his cock disappear inside of her even deeper, drawing desperate moans from them which dripped with a need for more. 

“Attagirl, look at you, fucking yourself on my cock like you were born for this.” She moaned at his words, knowing that her thighs would start aching soon enough, begging for a new position to give herself the needed push to fall over the edge. “What? You’re already getting tired? I should have fucked you in my truck, make you scream my name while the world’s ending around us.” 

He pushed her off of him without a warning, leaving her dazed and confused for a second while watching him rise to his feet. With a hand stretched out for (y/n) to take, he pulled her up towards him–only to pick her up and press her against the wall. His cock was pushed back into her, stretching her walls while he fucked her with a fast pace that made both of them see stars. 

(Y/n) clawed at his neck, needing to hold onto him while he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. A cocky grin widened on his lips as he felt her walls tightening their grip on his cock. She was close, would let go soon with his name burning on the tip of her tongue, a perfect reminder that she was his from today on, glued to the man who she had once sworn to hate. 

“Scream my name, lightning, show them what a real thunderstorm sounds like.” If he weren’t buried deep inside of her, she would have rolled her eyes at him. But (y/n) was too far gone to care about his cheesy teasing, solemnly focused on her arising high and the name rolling off her tongue like a prayer.

And then she came, pushed into an orgasm so strong, (y/n) feared she’d never experience something like this again. It buzzed through every part of her body, stealing her breath as if she was drowning, forcing her heart to skip beats as if she was chased by someone or rather something. Tyler kept fucking her against the wall, urged on by her moans, the sounds he’d never forget again. 

Pants kept leaving him while chasing his own high, letting his skin meet hers with every ferocious thrust. And with one last “Fuck” Tyler came, relieving himself into the condom as his smirk returned to his lips. Both were heavily breathing, clinging to the other while coming down from their highs.

“I don’t know if I can walk back to the truck.” Carefully, he placed (y/n) back down on her feet, shaking his head at her with a soft smile thrown her way. Tyler pressed another kiss to her slightly swollen lips before both redressed, knowing that they had to get out of here and back to their team as fast as possible. 

“You know I’ll gladly carry you, lightning. I always will, if you let me.”

[sweetiecutie]

More ex bf!König headcanons bc I love my men pathetic

Ex boyfriend! König who is definitely over you. That’s what he tells himself and his friends, sipping on his beer and pressing his new girl closer to his side. No one says anything but they all share a knowing look - all of his new girls resemble you somehow: their general appearance or some exact features like shape of her lips or eyes, their behaviour or how they handle themselves. But needless to say that none of those ‘relationships’ lasted longer than a few months.

Ex boyfriend! König whom you meet at one of your shared friend’s party, his sharp eyes detecting you the moment you step into the room, his throat growing dry as he watched your every move intently. You seemed relaxed - too normal, not mourning the loss of your relationship as much as he did, seemed like you didn’t spend sleepless nights thinking about him.

Ex boyfriend! König who after a few drinks has you cornered in small bathroom, on his knees with his face pressed against your thigh, begging for you to take him back. “Please, I need you so much, my life doesn’t have any sense without you. I’ll be better, please baby, I love you so much”. Your heart clenched at the sight before you - always arrogant and complacent he’s now kneeling at your feet, fat tears running down his reddened cheeks as he scatters small kisses all over your knees.

Not so ex boyfriend! König who is too eager to take you to his place once you mumble out small “Okay, fine. But this one is the last chance you get” to prove to you just how good of a boyfriend he may be for you.

Boyfriend! König who eats you out like man starved, your slick smeared all over his chin and cheeks, tongue buried deep inside of your cunny as his ears strain to not miss a single little sound you make, familiar taste of you clouding up his mind and turning König into a perfect whore for you. He spends the rest of the night fucking you oh so good, rubbing and licking all your soft spots - ones he knows by heart, until you cry and beg for him to give you a little breather. But he just can’t - not when you’re finally back, laying all spread out on his bed, hands tangled in his bedsheets, your trembling legs wrapped around his waist.

Those months spent without you were the worst in his entire life and now that König has you back he’s not letting go of you never again.

[vintagebishx]

FOR THE FIRST TIME theodore nott

PAIRINGS: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

WARNINGS: fluff fluff fluff, use of she/her pronouns!, i used all lower caps.

SUMMARY: in which, the usual womaniser finds himself in love with a girl who doesn’t even know his name…

“ITS JUST LIKE SEEING HER,

FOR THE FIRST TIME,

AGAIN…”

“The first time you caught my eye

it was not love at first sight.

Instead a quiet curiosity was

planted in my chest and i knew

it was only a matter of time before

you sunk beneath my bones and

nurtured this deep seated familiarity

into a love so fierce that

i would question if i had

ever been in love before”.

THOSE WERE THE words that theo scribbled down in his journal as he sat in the middle of the courtyard amongst other students on the hot and surprisingly toasty day in Hogwarts. he finally dropped the pencil in his hand as his eyes averted back over to the sight before him, y/n.

theo wasn’t normally one for poetry but ever since the first time he had ever saw her, it was all he could think about.

he found himself in a never ending cycle of writing, constantly writing his feelings and thought down whenever she crossed his mind which was all the time.

it was like she had unknowingly helped him discover a part of himself that he was unaware of.

his gaze stuck to her face that was glowing due to the sun hitting her perfect caramel skin. she sat peaceful on the green grass with a big book opened in her hands, one that seemed to capture all of her attention.

his eyes then traveled down to her hands, her hands that were decorated with multiple rings and her wrists that wore a few bracelets.

she wore a sleeveless v-neck jumper on top of a long sleeved shirt as her yellow tie was tied perfectly. she wore two necklaces which hung and rested against his the tie.

he watched as the slight breeze in the air blew into her brown, perfectly curly, and volumed hair which also had a sunflower tucked into the side of her hair slightly matching her yellow, Hufflepuff tie. he wanted so badly to talk to her, to get to know her, to be near her, but he instead found himself gawking from afar and silently hoping that she would at least turn and look his way.

but wether he talked to her or not, even him just being able to look at her was enough to fuel his slight obsession with the girl.

she was special.

she was like the coffee he needed to energise him in the morning, or even the warmth he needed on a cold and gloomy day.

she was the sunshine that could light up any dark room.

with every minute he spent staring at her, he grew even more curious by the second. he wanted to know everything about her.

he wanted to know why she always wore that one bracelet, why she always seemed to read books published by the same author, why she always played with her hair while reading or even why she always came to the courtyard alone at the same time everyday and sat at the same spot too.

he was intrigued by her, she was different.

he didn’t want to say it in a corny way, but she wasn’t like all the other girls in Hogwarts. she kept to herself, had friends but never minded being alone, was always sweet to everyone, and didn’t care how others viewed her.

classic Hufflepuff.

if you had asked him a year ago today if he thought a hufflepuff would ever had him feeling this way, he probably would’ve laughed in your face. what made it worse was that he was presented with so many chances to go and talk to the girl but instead, he froze up and got lost in all of the words that he wanted to say which was nothing like him.

it was like she had casted an irreversible spell that only pulled him closer and closer to her.

“are you okay?” a voice suddenly spoke, causing him to break from his deep gaze.

he looked away from the girl and looked up which finally revealed mattheo, “oh- yeah, yeah!” he spoke as he cleared his throat and silently hoped that his slight infatuation with the girl wasn’t too obvious to his best friend.

mattheo furrowed his eyebrows as he looked down at his friend who was sat alone, “really? cause if you ask me, it looks like little miss Hufflepuff has you distracted…” he spoke with a small smirk.

“what? no!” theo quickly denied as he jerked his head back at his friends’ words.

matteheo took a moment to look down at the notebook that was sat on theo’s lap as he took notice to all the words written down that he struggled to read due to how far it was, “and what is this?” he asked as he suddenly knelt down to pick up the notebook, and got back up on his feet.

a sudden feeling of panic took over theo’s body as he hadn’t told anybody about his recent passion for poetry that was fuelled due to y/n.

“the first time you caught my eye it was love at first sight,” mattheo began as he read out of theo’s notebook. theodore was quick to stand up in attempts to grab the notebook from his friends’ hand but failed as mattheo continuously swerved his attempts.

“i knew it was only a matter of time before you sunk beneath my bones?” mattheo continued with a surprised tone at what he was hearing.

he had never heard theodore speak ever so passionately before.

“into a love so fierce-” “give me that!” theo interrupted his words as he finally grabbed the notebook from him.

his cheeks were tinted with a light red pigment as a small feeling of embarrassment grew inside of his system.

“your in love?” mattheo spoke with a laugh, “your in love with a hufflepuff?” he continued.

theo rolled his eyes at his words, “can you stop?” he spoke with an irritated tone.

“she’s more than that…” he began, “she’s special, s-she’s like a breath of fresh air in a world filled with copies of each other.” he spoke, his words filled with love as he brought his gaze back to y/n.

her peaceful presence finally bringing back that safe feeling in the pit of his stomach.

mattheo just stood there with his mouth slightly agape, realisation finally taking over him. his friend wasn’t just in love, he was deeply in love.

“wow… it’s worse than i thought, your infatuated nott.” mattheo said in a shocked tone.

he took a moment to look at theo, who put his head down in defeat as his friend uncovered his hidden feelings.

there was a reason as to why he had never told his friend about his liking towards the girl and it was simply because, he wasn’t used to it.

he wasn’t used to liking somebody, at all.

he wasn’t used to constantly thinking about somebody every single moment of the day, or having your heart beat faster at not only the sight of them, but the sound of their name. he wasn’t used to only being happy if he saw a certain someone, or not being able to sleep because of somebody disrupting his thoughts. he just wasn’t used to any of it.

he thought that y/n was just another girl that he would’ve liked for at least two days then gotten over her but no, the past three weeks of non-stop thoughts about her made it clear that it was more than just a crush and that he had to talk to her.

at first he was a little mad at the innocent girl as he wanted to know if she had put a spell over him, but he realised it was all him.

he craved her.

“why don’t you go talk to her, i mean you are theodore n-” “no!” theodore quickly interrupted his friend.

just the thought of her even looking at him made his nerves come to play.

mattheo took a moment to analyse his friends’ body language before letting out a loud laugh, “there’s no way,” he began, “are you… nervous?” he laughed out.

theo rolled his eyes due to it probably being mattheo’s tenth time laughing at him.

“i-i’m not, i just don’t know what i’d say to her.” he explained himself, “since when have you had trouble talking to girls nott? your clearly nervous.” mattheo laughed a little more before stopping.

“you know what?” mattheo spoke which caused theo to listen, “your gonna go over there and just speak whatever comes to mind.” he said.

theodore’s eyes widened at his words, he wasn’t prepared to even be near the girl let alone talk to her.

“what? no i’m not-” his words were interrupted by mattheo who grabbed the boys’ arm and began pulling him towards where the girl was peacefully sat, “yes you are!” mattheo spoke, simply ignoring the boy who was trying to rebel and pull away from his strong hold.

“no i’m not, now fuck off!” theo spoke harshly as he began using his strength to try and pull away but mattheo wasn’t having it.

“yes you are!” mattheo protested as he let go of theo before giving him one final strong push, pushing him right in front of the girl and causing him to drop his notebook onto the floor.

the commotion and sudden figure blocking her from the sun was enough to make y/n finally bring her head up from her book, she looked up to find the brunette boy staring right at her which slightly had her confused.

he looked a little anxious, as if he had been scared.

an awkward smile took over the girls’ face, “um, hello…” she said hesitantly as he did come from nowhere, “can i help you or?…” she continued.

but theo just stood there, like an idiot.

what am i doing, say something. he told himself mentally as he knew how stupid he looked, this was seriously unlike him.

“uhh, i-um,” he muttered out, “no!” he finally spat out as he finally moved out of his frozen state that he was once in before.

and there it was. the usually cool, and laid-back theodore nott was not tripping over his words and struggling on how to even form a sentence.

“oh…” y/n spoke, not really knowing what to tell him as she just continued to look up at him.

her eyes left his as she began to look at the grass, noticing a random, and unfamiliar notebook beside her.

“is this yours?” she asked him before she picking it up, “um yeah.” theo nervously spoke.

just then, y/n’s eyes scanned the page that was open. she quickly realising that it was a poem, her eyes lit up as she looked back at him.

“wait, did you write this?” she asked him as she stared right at him, waiting for a response.

theo’s eyes grew wide at the fact that she looked at the poem that he had made about her, his heart beats sped up due to a little embarrassment.

“y-yeah, but i’m not really a writer so-” “are you kidding me? i love poems!” she exclaimed, interrupted his words.

she took a moment to look a with a wide smile, the smile that made him want to melt.

“why don’t you sit down?” she offered which made him become shocked, “i mean unless you don’t want to then-” “no of course i do!” he suddenly spoke before walking a little closer to her, kneeling down, and sitting right next to her on the grass.

theo turned around and took a moment to look at the girl, this was the closest he had ever been to her and definitely the longest, and the first time, he had ever talked to her.

he took a good and long look at the girl, she was even prettier when closer.

her shoulder lengthened curls captured her face perfectly as they were as healthy as ever, she had a few small brown freckles on her face which is something he had never gotten to notice until now, he also didn’t notice how high her cheekbones were either. her full straight eyebrows were what made her face even more perfect as her almond shaped eyes topped her look off. his eyes then flickered to her her full, succulent lips which were as soft as ever. to top things off, her beautiful skin glowed ever so gently as the sun bounced off her face.

she was perfect… no, ethereal.

her smell too, she smelled addictive.

her sweet vanilla, tonka bean, red berries and mandarin scent was what drew the boy crazy. it made him want to be near her forever and ever.

“do you mind if i read this?” she asked him nicely before turning around and looking him looking him right into his eyes, “uh, sure.” he spoke as he quickly got out of whatever trance he was in.

it wasn’t like she would know it was about her anyways, he thought to himself.

y/n’s eyes went down the page as she read the poem, his writing style completely had her drawn as if it were written about her.

“oh my gosh, this is so beautifully written.” she complimented as she still looked at the notebook, she couldn’t believe how well he had managed to portray his feelings onto the paper.

she turned to look at him, “i-i mean, you sunk beneath my bones and nurtured this deep seated familiarity into a love so fierce? beautiful.” she recited his words as she continued to stare at him, impressed by how poetic he was.

theo’s eyes widened at her sudden compliments, he felt his cheeks heat up.

“thank you…” he muttered as a small smile came across his face, “who is this about?” she suddenly asked him.

theodore cleared his throat, “um, p-pardon?” he nervously asked even though he had heard her perfectly, he was just caught up by her question and did not know what to say.

a smile took over the girls’ face as she let out a breathy laugh, God that smile…

“i said, who is this about? i mean it’s so deep, there has to be someone because this isn’t something you can just make up…” she explained to him, and she was right. there was somebody who had inspired him to make the poem and it was her.

but he couldn’t tell her that.

how was he meant to explain to her that he wrote her a whole love poem, and many more, that a wife’s own husband could probably never make up if he tried.

how could he explain that for the past three weeks, she had been running endlessly through his mind?

how could he explain that every time he saw her, it felt like seeing her for the first time again?

how could he explain that in a world full of chaos, she was the peace in his presence?

he felt himself choke up due to nerves, he really did not know what to say to her. he was confused. he was confused on how this girl had so much power over him without even realising.

“a girl.” he managed to finally spit out, “it’s um, it’s about this girl.” he continued.

his eyes wandered her perfectly crafted face before opening his mouth to speak some more, “there’s this one girl who is beautiful. s-she’s sweet, kind and has been stuck in my mind almost everyday.” he spoke, “but the thing is… i haven’t talked to her yet”.

y/n furrowed her eyebrows, “well if you haven’t spoken to her before, then how do you know she’s all of those things?” she questioned curiously.

“because for three weeks i’ve been sat there like an idiot gawking at her, watching her interact with others instead of being a man and attempting to talk to her.” he explained, “there’s just something about her, she’s absolutely perfect.” he rambled on.

a smile that spread on her face exposed her pearly whites to him, “sounds like your in love!” she said excitedly.

“why can’t you just try and speak to her?” she asked curiously.

theo chucked as he brought his head down before bringing back up and look at her again, “because she makes me nervous, and i never get nervous around girls.” he said.

“but she’s different… she’s not like the rest of them, she’s even better.” he said as he was now getting lost in her beautiful brown eyes that seemed to have more colour due to the sun, “s-she’s special.” he muttered as he dropped his eyes to her lips.

it took everything in him to not just take her in his arms and give her the biggest hug ever, but he stopped himself.

y/n examined the boy and his body language, it was really no secret that he was in love. she had seen many of her friends fall in love so she was pretty good at detecting when somebody was undergoing symptoms of the contagious disease of love.

just as she was about to respond to his words, a voice interrupted her words.

“y/n? y/n!” a voice spoke causing them both to turn their heads, revealing a blonde girl in hufflepuff uniform that theo had recognised from one of his classes, her name was scarlett.

“oh hi scar!” y/n exclaimed happily, her eyes lighting up as she saw her dearest friend.

“i’ve been looking for you everywhere, everyone has!” she said excitedly as she got closer to the duo sitting down on the grass.

“we need to go, it’s girls night tonight and we need to start getting ready remember?” scarlett reminded her friend which caused y/n to gasp, “oh my goodness, how could i forget?” y/n questioned herself.

she grabbed her tote bag and shoved her book in there before standing up. scarlett held her hand out, which y/n took happily and began to walk with her.

however, y/n’s movements came to a halt.

theo watched as y/n mumbled a few words to her friend before turning back around and making her way back over to him, causing him to smile a little.

“i’m so sorry, i never got your name.” she spoke, “so incredibly rude of me.” she rambled on which only caused theo to look up at her and smile due to how cute she was.

his was also slightly shaken at the fact that she really didn’t know who he was, he believed that he had made quite the reputation for himself so it shocked him.

he stood up from the ground, his tall frame now meaning that she was the one looking up at him.

“theodore, theodore nott.” he informed her, holding his hand out in hopes that she didn’t deny his request.

his nerves died down as she accepted his request and shook his hand, “i’m happy i met you theo.” she smiled. her smooth hands felt like something he had been missing his whole life.

“wait can i call you that?” she asked frantically, she didn’t want to offend somebody she had just met.

theodore smiled at how cute she was being in that moment, “of course you can… you can call me whatever you want.” he said, slightly regretting what he last said as he didn’t want to embarrass himself even though it was probably too late.

but y/n just let out a laugh. not one that was degrading, but one that made him realise that she found what he said funny which honestly calmed him down.

y/n finally let his hand go before giving him a heart warming smile and walking off as he just stood their and watch her skip over to her friend with a smile planted on his face.

“you see, now that wasn’t hard was it?” mattheo asked his friend cockily as he came out from his hiding spot behind the tree.

but theo didn’t hear him.

instead, he continued to watch the girl walk further, and further away as his stomach did somersaults.

poem made by: Lyra Wren

border creds: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

AUTHOR SPEAKS! i kind of based this off of an unpublished draft so if i post something familiar to this, it’s cause i described the character in the same way as the draft

i hope you guys enjoyed this though!!

[anantaru]

GENSHIN + BREAK UP, MAKE UP

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — you fuck your ex boyfriend and shocker, you love it ᰔ

— ꒰ including ꒱ — alhaitham, ayato, heizou, wriothesley x fem! reader

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — ex boyfriend trope, slightly toxic & mean boys, bratty! reader ??? dirty talk, oral (male! receiving), fingering, cowgirl position, cumming inside, lots of cum lol, dom characters

— ꒰ ALHAITHAM ꒱

"hey, don't insult me now," alhaitham looks at you with a prized confusion in his eyes— while also taking care of your bodies needs and desires, his cock pressing deeply in you. "what's with the attitude i hear?" his voice was clearly hinting at a hazed tone as he pants against your wet cheek, your tits flushed against his solid chest.

you gasp at him, curving your fingers into his hair to pull it, "w-what attitude?" your hips involuntarily buck into his cock so he would hopefully get the hint and continue to move, more so stop being so annoying for once in his life.

"you're hiding it from me," he whispers cruelly, "don't act stupid now, aren't you so smart?" as his hips begin to grind through your tight hole, a warm press slowly distending in your cunt and swelling in your belly.

"you hide your moans from me, fuck, you brat, you know what that does to me," under the cover of a shaken exhale, he shoves you into the mattress even further— no mercy, no signs of previous affection, only a raw and pleasuring handle.

archons, how much you loathed the way he always had you figured out this quickly.

how, just how.

but well, it's not like you were a couple anymore, correct? so why would you give him the pleasure of hearing you? knowing full on well he finds it to be the best part whenever he fucked you.

just so he could pride himself again? scrap that, he doesn't deserve it, nor to indulge into every drop of desire you give him.

"hah, you're so weak alhaitham," you bite back a whimper, "still so weak for me," as your hole clenches, throbs and milks against his awfully hard cock before you look at him through a wet expression, his hair soused and messy sticking all over his forehead, pressed into the light sheen of sweat across his face, "or maybe you aren't doing a good job,"

it's dangerous— playing that game with your ex. but it's also worth the gamble.

— ꒰ AYATO ꒱

like a puppy, you preciously kneel between ayato's legs, slightly leaning against one of his muscular thighs— one hand proudly holding his cock in your grasp to stroke him, your wet tongue circulating over the leaking slit just how he liked it.

but that familiar infatuation from months ago, when you were still considering yourself a team, that disgustingly known taste of your tongue on his cock made the yashiro commissioner twitch in your hand— is it desperation in his movements? or longing?

it reminds him all too much on how things used to be.

when you were in a relationship, of course, "in love", and where fucking you wasn't just fucking to neither of you, it was making love.

a longing that filled the whole breast with its mad virus.

it was much, much. he could never argue against the fact that you were the only one who could make him fall to his knees.

you flick the tip of your tongue back and forth over the inflamed head, teasing the slit and making him shudder, finding it more and more satisfying to have someone within such position under your grasp, the constant press of need and attention on your cunt only coming second.

"y-your mouth feels so fucking good," he heaves and embarrassingly coughs out right after— well, it's not that deep? because hey, a commissioner doesn't curse now, does he? but he did it for you, always.

how were you able to always coax that out of him?

your hand tightens around his erection, adding shallow yet precise pumps over his shaft as you cup his balls roughly, massaging them in your palm and wetting them with your saliva.

he's already wet of both his pre and your spit, yet you do not waste any chance to spit on his tip again, again and again until your cheeks and chin where littered with filth, finding it rather enchanting whenever ayato moans disgustingly hot.

chest rising, falling again, groans hitching at the feeling of your saliva sliding down his tip.

"i want to touch you too, come on now, don't you want me to touch you?" he begins to whimper, stroking over your head affectionately as you look up at him, flexing your throat, grabbing at his shaft more firmly.

he continues, although it gets harder to breathe, "don't you want my fucking hands on you, come on, admit it," fuck, ayato was so pent up— from work? from going through a messy break up? from being alone?

archons who was he fooling besides himself? it's due to how much he has missed you, missed this, missed your scent all around him.

— ꒰ HEIZOU ꒱

"oh your so wet, well look at this, look at this all over my hand,"

"some things never change, hm?" heizou moans softly and parades his glistening fingers to your blinking eyes as you whined out, trying to shift from his body hovering on top.

it's futile— not because you actually want him to stop, but because you really wanted this, despite him being so embarrassing and blunt about it.

what little movement you managed to coax from your hips merely aroused you further as heizou stuck his fingers back into your cunt— two slippery digits scissoring you hard, reaching deeper and floating inside you like inside water before rubbing his thumb back and forth your clit.

your thoughts were sluggish, and you found yourself overwhelmed due to the fact that your body enjoyed it, and so did your mind.

you knew this was wrong, this shouldn't happen, this wouldn't make it easier for either of you in the long run. but you couldn't think beyond that when all you thought about was his next touch and buck of his hands thrusting into your cunt.

your skin tingles, ever hot as he presses and rubs and strokes until every inch of your being was shivering in need and regretting ever breaking up with him.

no matter how often you try to act like he isn't setting a fire along the slopes of your skin, the detective will never stop seeking you out for this, conquering your sinful spots until you're fucked out of your mind, only then he will get close to your ear and ask you to say that you regret ever letting him go.

— ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱

"do you still fucking hate me?" there was a rumble emitting from wriothesley's chest, and for one long moment, he was consumed by nothing more other than your tight cunt riding him fiercely, "do you still refuse to admit that you secretly like this?"

if only he could shut up for just a damn second, just one.

"do you?" your eyes flew open to him in anger, your gaze aggravated in its entire embrace, how dare he mock this— but an expanding shock of his hips bucking into you forced a new bodily reaction from your shuddering frame, enough to override the otherwise enticing anger you were about to spit like venom into his proud face.

your back arches as you shoot him a dangerous glare— one that could easily get confused with a please please do fuck me harder, instead of hold your tongue you asshole.

because you see, don't act out on anger, instead luxuriate in the crushing weight of his cock between your legs, hard and heavy throbbing as you ride him, pleasure and fuck him hard— still pondering about how difficult it always had been to fit his entire length inside of you.

you let your legs shift apart more as your tits bounce in combination with your movements, your back arching as your pussy began to milk him fiercely, squelch and squelch as the deep, bloating throbs of his shaft scrub over the bends of your walls, until reaching your swelling belly.

you turn sensitive, he knows it, the duke can feel it.

"oh, come on now baby," pride gushes from his mouth as he tilts his head, tightly holding your waist before thrusting up. you wouldn't let him bath inside his confidence any longer as you lightly punch his chest upon hearing him use a damn petname.

"oh? you don't want me to call you that?"

"obviously not," you shake your head, wetting your lips, despite that, he could hear the arousal in your voice, "why are you clenching when i say it then? baby~" as he maintains his ardour, refusing to allow you to control your little get together as he mercilessly thrusts up into you, thick and heavy cock slipping in and out, your arousal running down his balls.

your moans are a little more breathless now, shaken as the pumping motions of his erection slapping against your pussy only grew needier.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify