#if this doesnt make it to the final cut so be it!!!!! whatever man!!!!!!

[tomwambsgays]

quiet.. they're thinking........

[m0chis-cafe]

Can I request twisted wonderland first years or dorm leaders react to mc who have a small exhibitionist habit (but not in an extreme way).

Like the characters are going to a beach and mc just wears a unbutton white blouse that exposed their cleavage and without wearing a bra.

I'm sorry if this request is uncomfortable for you

your so good, i may have strayed a little from the original request, but i actually love this😚

housewardens reactions to more skin showin.. ⋆⑅˚₊

'i cant stop lookin at her t-t-t-t-face!'

word count: 3k

warnings: more so leaning towards feminine reader, more so just saying that your chest is more exposed but that can be seen either way (all of them think your the hottest thing in the world, cause yk, u are duh) suggestive (no nsfw), sitting in lap, swearing, leona being suggestive and the little freak he is, all of them are a bit handsy, cuddling

characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia, and malleus

riddle rosehearts🌹

-tries to be so calm, but his face is bright red

-this is gonan be a real difficult unhappy birthday for him with you wearing a low cut and open formal wear (a dress or button up, whatever you guys prefer<3)

-ace and catter get on his ass about how flustered he gets (usually when his face is this red hes about collar someone..)

-yells at ace when he inevitably tries to make flirty remarks, even though its just to rile him up

-tries to play resonsible and collected housewarden in front of the others.. but he loves it

-physically cannot make a move or comment because hes too nervous, would keep his hand in yours or on you in some way just cause hes glad your his (ur so nice lookin)

when ace had suggested that you and the main group from heartsyble took a trip to the beach, it was a excuse to finally go swimming. finals had been stressing you all out and with a little persuasion from you, riddle was ok with a beach day reset.

that's how you got here, laying on a towel under a beach umbrella talking to cater about your guys magicam feeds as riddle and trey horribly beat ace and deuce at a game of beach volleyball.

after a while riddle called cater over to take his place, he walked over and sat next to you. as you glanced over you saw he was more rigid than normal, "you ok riddle.." you set a hand on his shoulder and he jumped. "y-yes! im completely fine" you spoke quickly and turned his face away from you.

your eyebrows scrunched as you sat up, placing a hand on his jaw and turning his face towards you, you almost laughed once your realized how red his face was, "oh my.. did they first years make you upset?" you noticed his eyes widen before flicking to your chest and back up to your eyes quickly, realization dawned on your face as you smiled at him, "seriously?"

he groaned and leaned forward, resting his forehead on your bare shoulder, "its not my fault, you look really good, my rose" he mumbled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. you giggled, running a hand through his bright rose colored locks, placing a kiss on his head, "thank you, love".

leona kingscholar🦁

-could not care less

-i mean he does, but hes so nonchalant about it

-hes not nervous or anxious, he openly makes sly comments the whole time about how good you look (little shit thinks its just for him)

-constantly keeps a hand on your thigh, around your waist, resting on your hip, this man doesnt care he will show to everyone your his if yall are in public

-so grabby..

-will make you lay with him/on him while he takes a nap

you sat in savanaclaw, as usual most days where you ended up after classes. typically leona would already be with you, dragging you to his room right after classes so he could nap in his own room with his partner. but today he got dragged to a housewarden meeting by ruggie, so that left you waiting in his room for him to come back.

what youd never understand was why it was always so hot here.. you get its a dessert but the heat is ridiculous considering they have magic. the heat caused you to wear less than normal, shorts and a lose top that was leonas that slid down and showed collarbone and parts of your chest.

you layed sprawled across his bed, trying to beat the heat by scrolling on magicam, stalking caters perfect page. your scrolling was interrupted by his door opening, looking up to see leona striding his way in and slamming the door behind him. he crawled onto his bed and leaned over you, "been waiting long herbavore?"

you shook your head, smiling as you leaned up to peck his lips "not at all.. just hot as fuck" he smirked, letting out a low chuckle as he flopped down next to you, "yeayea, i know, you sensitive humans"

you slapped his chest, flipping over to set your chin on his chest to glare at him, "its not my fault, its always so-" you were cut off as leona captured your lips with his, holding your hips. you groaned and rolled your eyes while kissing him back, annoyed at being cut off.. this little shit.. when you pulled back he was smirking, "whats that for? miss me or something?".

he let out a small 'tsk', pulling your hips to straddle his waist. you smiled and leaned down, crossing your arms on his chest and resting your chin on your arms, "you know i did, you also happen to be wearing my shirt, and showing a little more than usual herbivore.. was it just for me?" he smirked at his own words, laughing as your face flushed and you hit his bicep, "leona-!"

azul ashengrotto🫧

-he knew something was up when the twins were acting shady all day (more so than normal)

-the monstro lounge had an event that night and the twins had gotten you a uniform with more skin showing, saying it was for the theme

-doesnt know what to do with himself, locks himself in the VIP lounge for a majority of the time cause hes just sat there with his head on his desk, completely red faced

-this poor man is rocked to his core when he does come out, and floyd wont let up on fucking with him

-"dont you think shrimpy looks good boss?" than suddenly the twins turned to an only child (JOKING)

"floyd, can you lay off his for like two seconds" you scolded, arms crossed over your chest as you watched azul walked away from floyd and back towards the VIP lounge. ever since they put you in this stupid revealing uniform for tonights event floyds been tugging on azul, constantly. "c'mon shrimpy.. its funnyy~" he teased as he leaned onto your shoulder.

you rolled your eyes at him, shoving his elbow off your shoulder, "jade, watch him" you spoke behind you as you made your way back to the VIP lounge, back to his office to check on him.. these idiots are trying to kill him

you knocked on the door before hearing a small 'come in', cracking open the door to his office you saw azul sat at his desk. hand tangled in his hair as his elbow leaned on his desk, the other hand holding a pen that was frantically scrawling across an agreement paper he was working on,, guaranteed trying to rope another first year into a deal.

your lips quirked into a small smile as you shut the door and locked it, no way in hell were you letting the twins fuck with him more tonight. you walked to his desk, sitting in the chair opposite of him, "you seem stressed az..". you almost laughed at how hard his head snapped up when he realized it was you.

"ah- hello angelfish.. h-how are you?" you quirked an eyebrow at his words, leaning back in your chair as you watched his eyes flash between your chest and eyes, "your playing this real calm". he groaned and buried his face in his hands. you rolled your eyes before walking to his side of the desk standing between his legs, pushing aside the documents on his desk before sitting on the desk in front of him.

he kept quietly groaned as he rested his head in your lap, arms wrapped around your hips, "those stupid shady twins, im gonna kill them.. theyre on busser for a month.. they did this.." he mumbled almost incoherently into your uniform. you just sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "ah yes.. cause your absolutely hating this.." you remarked to his complaints. "maybe i wouldnt mind it if it was just for me.. you look good angelfish..", you giggled at his response "just for you next time, promise"

kalim al asim💧

-hes so energetic about it

-our favorite golden retriver

-will hype you up the whole time yall are at the dorm, the second you walked out in slightly more revealing clothes.. he was all over you

-hugging you, kissing your cheek, he doesnt care, he just thinks you look so good

-jamil is so over hearing him talk about you (he secretly grateful you take some things off his plate.. hed never say that though)

-would proably be at a dorm party that he was throwing

you were in the kitchen talking to jamil about your classes, asking him about his family- this was a normal occurrence between you two. both of you tended to stay in the shadows while kalim stayed in the light before everyone.

as you sat on the counter, trying samples of the food he was making for the dorm party, you heard the door to the kitchen slam open, "where have you guys been?" he ran over to you, standing between your legs, "i missed you so much.. and you look so good!", a big smile covered his face as his hands slipped around your hips, his lips placing quick kisses on your cheeks.

you giggled, playing with the hair at the base of his neck, "i was just keeping jamil company.. do you want me to come out with you?". he just shook his head, leaning forward to lean on your chest as he spoke, "nah, i know you guys like the quiet.. id like to see you afterwards though.. you look very nice". you knew he was being a little extra clingy cause you were showing more skin today.. it was nice though.

you smiled at his compliment, noticing a small blush on his cheeks as he pulled away from your chest. you opened your mouth to speak before you saw a wooden spoon hit kalims head, he winced and held the back of his head, "jamil~". you looked past kalim and saw the vice with his arms crossed on his chest, "stop being freaky with the prefect in my kitchen". you giggled as he turned away from you, suddenly whining to jamil about how pretty you were while he just stood there looking unimpressed.. these boys

vil schoenheit🧺

-he couldnt care less (like hes not possessive about it like leona would be, he absolutely does care tho)

-will show skin with you lowkey

-helps you pick out the outfit that shows skin

-he loves it when others think his partners attractive (power couple who?)

-would break his own rules just to stay with you longer

-yall would be getting ready for an event together thats for vils modeling jobs

-(almost dont make it to the event)

you sat at his vanity, touching up your makeup (still gender-nuteral kids, whatever you prefer) as he got changed. whipping a hand to the corner of your lips as you saw his reflection come to vision in the mirror behind you. his outfit had his collarbone and a bit of his chest out, similar to yours..

you smiled, moving a piece of your hair out of your face and pinning it back "vil.. my love, are you trying to match with me?" he feigned shook, a hand on his almost bare chest, "i would never poison, who do you take me for?"

you rolled your eyes at his theatrics as you stood, standing before him as you looked up. wrapping your arms around his shoulders, "ok maybe i was trying to match. can you blame me? you look divine.." you rolled your eyes at his flattery, brushing a stray hair from in front of his eyes. as your hand was coming down he caught it in his, pulling your knuckles to his lips.

he placed a kiss to your knuckles, keeping eye contact with you as he left a small red mark behind on your hand, "would it be that much of a shame to miss this event..". you looked at him unimpressed, leaning up to peck his cheek, "yes, yes it will.. and your manager will kill me" you attempted to reason with him as you turned away.

before you could get far you felt his grab your wrist, puling you back into his chest. his fingers brushed under your chin, making your eyes meet his, "we can be a little late though" you rolled your eyes while smiling, giving into him, "fine.. a little late." you mumbled before pushing your lips to his.. (yall got yelled at so bad for being 30min late)

idia shround🎧

-are you trying to set the ignyhide dorms on fire?

-are you trying to set yourself on fire?

-are you trying.. alright ill stop

-nah seriously though, it was a thoughtless decision

-it was just hanging around his dorm with him playing video games in pjs and you didnt even think about it

-man is gonna pass out with like an anime nosebleed type shit

-does it matter that you guys have been together for so long and hes actually normal and comfortable around you? nope. hes fine until he realizes how much skin is out

-would never admit it out loud.. but he loves it

you walked into his dorm room, pj pants and hid hoodie on top, "idiaa.. what we playing tonight?" you questioned as you flopped onto his bed getting out your switch. you looked up to see him locked into the game he was already playing before you got there, rolling your eyes you starting playing your own game. a comfortable silence covered you two as it did most nights.

after a while it started to get hot in his room.. i swear its his hair.. you set down your switch and slipped his hoodie over your head, a tank top on underneath. you rolled your head, yawning as you glanced at his clock, 1:27 it read, shit it was late already.

you knew it was smart to go back to rhamshackle soon, but you wanted to spend some time with your boyfriend before that. you stood from his bed, walking to be behind his chair, your body sluming forward. your arms fell around his shoulders, laying on his chest as you tucked your head into the crook of his neck, "idia.." you mumbled, placing small kisses on his pale neck, "i gotta go soon.. cmere"

he jumped slightly at your kisses, his hand coming up to rest on yours, "i-i didnt relize it was so late.." he finished up his raid with you wrapped around the top half of his body. when he was done he got up to switch off his light, following you to his bed so you guys could lay down together for a bit before you left.

he got under his covers, opening his arm for you to lay on his chest. you quickly look his offer, laying your head on his chest, your arm laying across his waist, and your leg hooking onto his. you hummed at his warmth as his arm wrapped around your waist.. only than did he realize that he could feel your.. bare skin? once the realization set in that you were wearing a tank top he froze, blushing profusely, "you- you didnt say you were- i- this is boss level actions-" his hair flared slightly at his words as he buried his face in your hair, he cant handle all that without warning (your too fine)

mellus draconia🐉

-is so excited

-smiles so brightly as you stand by his side

-lilia happily watches as he spins you around and shows you off to him, silver and sebek

-happens during a little picnic he planned for you

-he got distracted staring at your chest a couple times.. not in like a creepy way though, in a, he doesnt realize its bad and thinks hes just admiring his partner way

you giggled as you stumbled a little, malleus hands covering your eyes as he guided you to a 'surprise', "are we almost there mal..". he didnt say a word as you guys stopped walking and he let his hands drop from your eyes, resting on your hips as he stood behind you.

your eyes widened as you took in the scene, a picnic blanket and foot set out under a tree in the gardens of diasmonia dorm. fairy lights hung from the surrounding trees. you turned to face him and were faced with a small wrapped bouquet of your favorite flowers, you took them slowly as you looked up at him, "mal.. this-this is perfect" you reached up, cupping his jaw and pecking his cheek.

he smiled softly, his hands resting on your waist, "only the best for you beloved.. you look perfect". you smiled up at him, resting your head on his chest as you hugged him.

after your thanks were over he moved you guys to the blanket, sitting across from each other. you went back and forth trying the different foods he brought and talking about your guys weeks. as you were talking about your potions class with silver you noticed his eyes continue to wander between your eyes and chest.. you leaned forward and waved a hand in front of his eyes lightly, "you ok? you seem.. out of it", you let your hand fall to hold his in his lap.

as you looked up you were shocked, you never thought youd see a day where you made him flush, but here it was. you locked eyes with him as it registered that he was blushing. your malleus was blushing. his eyes widened at you calling him to attention, his hand squeezing yours as he avoided your gaze quickly, "y-yes. im quite alright beloved.. i didnt think id be so affected by you this evening is all."

you let out a laugh at his words, "im yours mal, your aloud to look when i dress up for you." he nodded at your words, "i see.." you rolled your eyes, smiling as he brought your hand up to his lips to brush a kiss to the top of your hand. he kept your hand up as he looked at you, "does this mean i am aloud to request that you wear that top more often..". you flushed at his words (back to normal), "of course mal.."

[i-cant-sing]

Thinking about my own grandpa and how he'd comfort me with sweets/icecream whenever i had the slightest inconvenience and i just dream of whether he'd still do it to me as a 23 year old, ruffling my hair, letting me cut his birthday cake, scolding my parents when they got mad at me (yes i snitched on my parents), wiping my fat tears with his handkerchief, showing me his drawings of airplane engines as cold air blasted through the ac, letting me eat food from his plate that my mom made me bring him lol.

and like it grandparents are sooo sweet man. they couldve been okay-ish parents to their own kids, but then they get grandkids and they're like a whole different species *sniffle* theyre so precious.

and now my mind goes to that yandere todoroki clan au (i think it was the bullied series) where at the end, reader dies because of rei, and the whole fam loses their sanity. then one day, reader is reincarnated (its her quirk) as dabi's baby and dabi shares the news with his siblings because he needs to restore their sanity too (cause he feels responsible for them too, the "eldest kid" syndrome).

anyways, after you, his daughter had died, enji lost it and killed rei and then just vanished into the mountains to mourn his loss. years later, for whatever reason, he finds out about you. he's standing there, watching toddler you looking at him with curiosity. you stumble towards him, and Enji's on his knees at this point, he's in shock. your scars, your marks from your previous life dont even register to him until later on, all he can focus is you- its you, his baby. his daugher. his child that he swore to protect and failed.

your legs give out when you reach him but your hands reach for him and enji's already lifting you up, bringing you to his chest. his eyes are filled with tears as u look at him and babble, your hands grabbing onto his shirt, touching his face, big doe eyes staring at him.

he hugs you, silent sobs wrecking his body as he gets a whiff of your head. you- you smell just like her- like his daughter.

It really is you.

he doesn't let go of you, even when you eventually fall asleep in his arms, rocking you gently as he stares down at you in awe and disbelief. he doesn't let you go even when dabi tries to take you back, even when dabi insists that he won't keep you two apart, that you need to rest in your bed as he explains everything.

he finally let's you go when you wake up and reach for your dad (dabi), crying when enji doesn't let you leave his arms. but he relents, enji relents when you cry- it hurts him so bad, he's reminded of all the times how you used to cry before, how you used to beg him for help, beg him to save you. his heart breaks to see you like this, in tears.

enji's only partially conscious of what dabi is saying to him, explaining to him that you're now "his" daughter and enji's "granddaughter" and that's how things will be if they need to work. But enji doesn't care whether you're his daughter or not, all he cares about is that he's in your life because he needs to- he will keep you safe. He won't make the same mistakes again. Never.

i can just imagine the siblings and enji all sitting down together to make decisions about your life in extreme detail so that they ensure that no harm befalls you ever again, and if by some extreme badluck you die, they need to make sure that you reincarnate back to them.

they plan your every day, they make sure that at least one of them is with you at all times, and most importantly, they make sure youre safe and happy. when you start going to school, you're taken to school by Shotou because Dabi (who went back to working as a chef) has to go to work early. then at school, your teacher is more than likely Fuyumi (and if she's not your teacher, then she still works at your school). then after school, you're picked up by Enji who takes you out for ice cream (always, he doesnt care if its before u have had lunch. he needs to make up for all the times he couldnt give u ice cream because of rei) and also buy you any toys u want. enji is just enjoying you padding away and pointing at things that catch your eye. at home, natsuo has returned from his shift at the hospital and then starts heating up the food dabi had already made for you, before letting enji put you down for nap time. when you wake up, natsuo takes your vitals and a basic medical check. by dinner, dabi is home and you welcome him by launching yourself at his legs with a thud. he laughs, picks you up and pecks your cheek before taking you into the kitchen with him to make dinner while you tell him all about your day.

[mini-minish]

nathaniel wesninski & andrew doe au i picked up from a 2021 sketch 🪓🖤🔪

notes under the read more!

• andrew doe gets adopted into the wesninski family when he's just a little older than nathaniel, who hasnt been sent to edgar allen tryouts yet, and andrew doe is trained to be his bodyguard since childhood

• mary doesn't like it, he becomes a weakness for her son and when she leaves she refuses to take andrew with them, so nathaniel stays, and in that mary never really gets to leave

• on the same day she fails at running away and nathan finds them, nathaniel loses his eye lolastyle

• one time when he's a little older, andrew receives a letter, from a boy who claims to be his twin. andrew minyard doe throws it to the fire, and nathaniel picks it up while he's turned, before it burns completelly

• from the day nathaniel gets injured because he refused to leave andrew behind, they go from annoyed acquaintances to inseparable friends

• he calls andrew "drew" and andrew pretends to hate it. later when theyre older the name "nathaniel" starts to weight, starts to sound weird, so he asks andrew to call him something else, and andrew calls him alex, stefan, adam, until they get to neil

• but he only calls him neil when theyre alone, when its a secret, when nathan cant hear them

• "nathaniel" takes up the axe. he's as good a hitman as the little devil of baltimore has to be. he hates it, hates the color red, the color of his hair

• one of andrew's first memories at the house is of nathan cutting a man to pieces and making him watch, making him learn not to flinch, but red is the color of neil's hair, soft, safe, soothing

• before that, though, theres little league. theres learning andrew is talented at exy, theres kevin day, and riko moriyama, and theres jean moreau

• i want jean and andrew to be funny about each other just for some levity here ok

• the reynolds are a renowed fashion brand, far from them to refuse big mafia money, so they work on suits, on silk shirts, on tailored pants, and allison reynolds is always joined by her friend renee when she goes with her parents for fittings

• renee walker meets andrew doe, and andrew thinks shes silly enough to keep in touch.

• kevin day leaves them, and neil realises he doesnt have to be kept either. kevin day gets to get out and nathaniel wesninski gets quieter.

• neil finds his uncle's contact among some of the things his mother left behind. from stuart he gets to ichirou. from ichirou he starts to make a plan

• riko moriyama is going to make a big announcement soon, something about the perfect court, something that will finally brand the rest of them as his, and well, andrew has always told neil how much he hates that the pen's ink makes the skin of his face break out

• and neil still has the address of a boy who claims to be his andrew's twin

• for whatever reason the moriyamas and the wesninskis have one of those rich people dinners planned. neil gets kevin to show up, nathaniel gets andrew to leave, kicking and punching and a promise broken

• later in the night, a little after the first course is served and they begin the socializations, neil gets kevin to leave, leave, run as far as possible, *now*.

• he sees jean, grabs his wrist, and takes him outside. theyre walking fast before neil starts running, and then the explosion comes from inside the house, from the basement, and knocks both of them out before they turn the corner. the hathford's men long gone from the scene.

• all renee walker and andrew doe see from where he's been waiting for the little voice at the back of his mind to make sense, is the house bursting on fire, believing that it does so with what he's supposed to protect still inside

• but since i can't bring myself to do this to them, andrew finds him, finds jean, and at the hospital finds stuart, who takes his nephew in

• he gets contacted by a man called david wymack, who was convinced by kevin day to offer them a place among his foxes :)

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: chan's a fucking loser (not rlly he just rlly likes u <33), smut, f reader, handjob, sub!chan

wc: 884

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

masterlist

loser!chan whose eyes indiscreetly stick to you whenever you're in the same room. the halls, the cafeteria, gym, your shared chemistry class. you name it. all his friends (and yours) notice his hopeless stares while you do mundane tasks around school, except you.

or that's what everyone thinks

what he doesnt know, however, is how your eyes are looking back at him whenever he takes a quick break to look away in the name 'subtlety.' this endless cycle finally comes to an end when fate (your chemistry teacher) manages to put you in the same room alone with him.

"hey .. are you okay?", you ask after a good ten minutes of fruitless one-sided conversation as beet-red chan avoids eye contact while sitting on your bed.

due to an act by the gods above, you and chan ended up in the same group for a chemistry assignment. 'group' putting it lightly as its just you and chan alone in your room attempting to work out the assignment together.

getting him here was a miracle in itself, seeing as he would not make eye contact as you tried to come up with possible meeting times that worked for the both of you (surprise, he had an open schedule to meet whenever you desired)

after spluttering for a few seconds, chan comes to his senses and finally makes contact with your gaze when he replies to your question.

"me? oh! i- yes, sorry, just trying to work out the assignment," he responds, looking away immediately after.

"chan," you call out again, "look at me."

he powers through the effort that it takes to keep his eyes on yours for more than a few seconds, "y-yes?"

seeing his anxiety-ridden responses and lack of confidence when speaking the shortest of statements to you does something to your confidence, emboldening you to scoot closer to him and begin creeping your hand towards him.

"channie .. can i call you that? channie?", you put on your sweetest voice to ask.

"m-me? oh. yes. call me whatever you want," he somehow manages to splutter even more, his skin heating up at the unexpected pet name.

your hand creeps further towards his thigh as your body leans towards him even more.

his semi-crossed legs seem to naturally unwind themselves at the proximity of your hand, eager for whatever his years-long crush seems to have in mind for him.

"is it okay if i touch you channie?", you question, hand now in his upper thigh, gracing back and forth lightly.

"o-oh," he breathes, "are you sure? i- ive never-"

"its okay, channie," you interrupt, "just say the word and i'll stop. but i think it could be good for your nerves? dont you think?", you reason, scooting up enough for your chest to grace against his shoulder.

"y-yeah .. maybe ..." he breathes out as he closes his eyes when your hand finally makes contact with the spot in his pants thats been burning since you first welcomed him into your bed, originally sitting across from him in the tiniest shorts known to man (at least according to chan).

you place your empty hand on his warm cheek, directing his eyes towards you, "channie~ why wont you look at me?", you pout, "you stare at me all day but when i have you in my bed you wont look my way? thats so mean ..." you trail off, sticking your hand in his pants, feeling around before you finally wrap your hand around his aching length.

"ah ..." he moans. "you saw that? i'm sorry, youre just so- oh-" he cuts himself off as you speed up the pace of your touches, enjoying the way in which his head falls to your shoulder, one of his hands reaching to hold onto your arm in a fruitless attempt to try and keep a hold of his composure.

"shh, it's okay baby, i understand. feels too good to even look at me, doesnt it?", you interrupt in a mocking tone.

"i think- oh, i think i'm gonna cum. god, please ..." he lets out as he continuously lets out warm puffs of air into your neck as he nears his end far too soon.

"already?", you giggle. "oh, channie, you must be so deprived, you poor thing," you grin at him as you direct his face towards yours with your free hand.

"please .. please'" he breathes against your mouth, close enough to kiss but not enough. "please just let me. i'll do anything. anything."

you drip at his unwarranted (but very much appreciated) begging, almost feeling bad at the sudden desire to deny him just to extend the experience even longer, but his heavy breathing against your mouth and the wetness of his dick on your hand begin to make you delirious, licking into his open mouth as you give him the greenlight to cum.

"thank you. fuck, t-thank you," he continues to breathe as you shove your tongue into his mouth while he reaches his peak, attempting to catch your tongue in his.

finally, you peck his lips as he recovers from his high. grinning at his useless attempts to kiss back while he catches his breath.

"feeling less nervous now?", you giggle after a while of staring at his boneless form as he tries to process what just happened

a/n: this is my first time writing smut ever so any feedback is appreciated c: thank u for reading hehe (this was not proofread btw 😭)

[redsrooftopprincess]

PST.

You. Hey You.

*tugs on your sleeve like an excited child*

I haz an idea, but only if you want to or like to. Absolutely no pressure, I just want an excuse to talk to a cool tumblr person.

Buuuuuuut I was thinking, you know as one does, about hair of all things. Because I’m a very vain creature like that. Like due to working in a warehouse with 10 hours shifts, I usually keep my hair up in a bun or ponytail to keep it out of my face. Then when I get home, I still have work to do so I put it up in a twist or clip or something. So the first time in a long time, I clocked how long my hair is with it actually down and now it’s like half way down my back!

And I was thinking, how do you think our favorite Bruiser Boi would respond to something like that. Being used to his friend/SO ALWAYS having their hair up to suddenly have it all down for whatever reason? But anyhoo, just a thunk. Also again, I know this sounds cheesy, but I was thinking about you today and I was like “Man. What a cool person. I hope they just have the best Friday ever.”

So here’s to hoping you have the best Friday ever🫂🧡

Hidden Talent

Raphael x Reader

No Warnings, Vanilla Spice🌶️

You met in May, just at the beginning of summer, when the streets were not quite hazy with heat, but hot enough that, between the sweat and the frizz, your thigh length mane had to be contained.

Now halfway through July, you were honestly considering cutting it off. It's becoming more than just a little annoying.

It takes you over an hour every morning to quick and dirty brush - bun - pin, and between the weight of your hair pulling your skin so tight you're shocked you can close your eyes, and the bobby pins stabbing you in the head, you are pretty much over it.

It's been up all day and you've FINALLY made it home. The massive headache pounding in your temples like a god damn marching band has been growing steadily worse since you got on the subway *this morning*, and now it's basically unbearable.

You head straight for your room, tossing a quick wave to April and the boys as they drink coffee in the kitchen before heading out on patrol.

Tossing your bag on the bed, you glare at it when it rolls off the other side and you hear the scattering of small objects. Fuck it. You'd pick it up later. Or tomorrow. Or never.

He hears the sound, and the following exhausted sigh, and slips out of the kitchen as covertly as a giant reptile strapped to the nines can "slip," making his way down the hall. It seems like you had a tough day. If he can at least make you smile before heading out for "garbage duty," he'll already start off having a good night.

He reaches your open doorway and turns, lifting his hand to knock, but pauses once you come into view.

You're back is to the door and you're pulling the last of the bobby pins out of your hair. The bun begins to unravel and you grasp the elastic to rip it out and it straight up breaks.

You don't care. It feels too good to be free, and your eyes fall closed with a sigh.

It tumbles down your back and Raphael's eyes widen. He knew your hair was long, but this takes him completely by surprise. Silk flashes in the lamplight as your hair catches its shine and it cascades down your body to just about mid thigh. He breathes in your scent as it blooms outward. He'd only caught it in glimpses before, almost as tightly contained as your hair, but with your hair now loose you are everywhere and his head is swimming.

As you run your hands through the hair at your scalp to loosen it for the first time in hours, you can't help the almost- moan of relief that escapes you.

Between your beauty and your scent, that sound is nearly his undoing, and he swallows hard.

You sigh as the headache and tension start to dissipate and rub your temples as you open your eyes. You catch his reflection in the small mirror on your desk. He's looking at you with something like awe. He doesnt notice you notice.

You're beautiful. He knows this. It's an objective fact. But beyond that you're funny and smart and so much fun to hang out with. You only met a couple of months ago, but you've starting spending more time together, even on his nights off, and he's not, totally not, even remotely possibly falling for you. Not even a little. Nope.

But holy shit are you beautiful.

"Oh, hey Red," you say, turning around with a smile.

He nearly jumps out of his shell at the sudden attention, and his cheeks darken when he realizes you must have caught him staring.

He perks up, trying to brush it off, "Uh, yeah, hey. You, um..." he clears his throat, "kinda sounded like you had a rough day. Anything I can do?"

You smile softly at him, tucking your hair behind your ear. He follows your hand and tries not to breathe. "Thanks. No. I'll be fine," you chuckle, a gentle pink coloring your cheeks, "just being dramatic."

You sit on the bed beside you, snatching your hair brush off the desk. "You boys heading out soon?" You ask.

"Uh, yeah," he confirms, as you start brushing your hair, "bout ten minutes or so, I guess." The brush is scattering your scent into the air, filling the room with you, and his mouth waters. He clears his throat. "So, uh, something happen today?" He asks, leaning against the door and attempting to appear casual. He feels drunk.

You shrug. "Just the usual. People being people. The ever present headache doesn't help," you say, glaring at the broken elastic on the floor.

"Your hair?" He asks.

You nod, "It'll be too hot to wear my hair comfortably until probably mid-september, and I've about lost my patience with this. I didn't expect summer in New York to be this unbearable." You sigh heavily, working on a particularly stubborn knot, "I don't know, I'm thinking of just chopping it off."

"Don't," He says , so quickly and emphatically that it surprises even him, and he blushes and looks away when your eyes shoot up to look at him. He clears his throat, eyes returning to yours, "what I mean is... you don't have to," he takes a step forward and hesitates, is he really gonna do this...?

...fuck it.

He walks the rest of the way to the bed and gestures to your hair, "Um, may I?" He says, trying not to show how terrified he is right now. What if she thinks it's weird. That *he's* weird. This was a bad idea.

"Sure," you say with a smile, stopping the spiral in it's tracks. You hand him your hairbrush, and turn so that your back is to him. You feel the mattress dip as he sits beside you.

His fingers brush the back of your neck as he lifts your hair, sending a shiver down your spine, and your eyes fall closed as he begins pulling the brush through it. A soft sigh escapes you when he scrapes the brush gently against your scalp.

This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. Worst idea he's ever had. Now he was the one brushing your scent all over him, and the realization that he would be smelling you all night, along with your barely audible sounds of contentment, are affecting him in ways that are not allowed.

He takes a deep breath, swallowing your scent, drinking you like a man on his last dime, gluttonous and pathetic, as he accepts that he will gladly, desperately, keep coming back to this fountain, even though he knows it's killing him. This was a terrible, awful, amazingly wonderful idea. He should really make stupid decisions more often.

Meanwhile, you're trying not to chew a hole through your lip, because every gentle tug, every scrape of the brush, sends ripples through your body that you can feel in your fingertips. It's been a while, okay? To say your love life is non existent would be being kind. You're going over your terribly obnoxious day in your head beat for beat in desperation, trying to think of anything they might draw your attention away from what he's doing because fuck...

It isn't just the sensations. It's him.

It'd be a lie to say you haven't thought about it. Beyond him being so much fun to be around, he was absolutely stunning. He physically and metaphorically should not exist and you mean that in the best way possible. There were a lot of late nights where you found yourself imagining his scales against your bare skin, his deep voice rumbling like thunder in your ear...

He holds your hair gently at the scalp while he works out a particularly stubborn knot, so it doesn't pinch, and as he succeeds, your hair tugs gently as his fingers run through it.

Your scent changes, he thinks, but it's difficult to tell when his face is nigh buried in your hair, and your amber conditioner mixed with your own unique perfume are making his mouth water. He's wrong . He has to be. You couldn't possibly be...

He reaches over to the desk to retrieve an elastic and a few bobby pins and catches your reflection in the mirror. Cheeks pink, eyes closed, lips parted, he had to make a conscious effort not to tighten his hands in your hair. Don't react. It doesn't mean anything. He spots a hair pin on the desk, and grabs that, too.

He returns to his task, twisting and securing your hair in a low bun, just above your hair line. He can see the flush of your shoulders as he lifts your hair and attempts to control his breathing. As he places the last pin, he can't resist running the back of his finger down the back of your neck. He doesn't miss you shiver.

"There," he says, possibly a bit more huskily than he intends to, "how's that feel?"

Miraculously, the weight was still there, but he had twisted it in such a way that it was secure without pulling or pinching. When you turn to the mirror, the lamplight catches the hairpin, the warm glare making it flash like fire. You smile softly, almost in disbelief, and touch your hair gently. You turn to him, speechless.

His blush deepens, "I, uh... I'm pretty good with textiles. Hair ain't that different." His mouth turns up in a nervous smile when your smile of disbelief becomes a grin.

"Well you are just full of surprises, aren't you?" You say, almost breathless.

He blushes, chuckling and rubbing the back of his neck, looking away, "I guess..."

"Hey," Leo's head pops in the doorway, "we're heading out, you ready?"

Raph looks at you, and then Leo, and then back at you before clearing his throat and standing up, "uh, Yeah. Yeah, good to go." He shoots you an almost regretful smile.

"I guess that means you'll have to come over tomorrow and teach me how you did it," you say, grinning at him, "Can I say thank you with dinner?"

"Deal," he says, unable to help the grin that lights up his face, "I'll see you tomorrow." You don't miss the look Leo gives the both of you as he makes his way out the door. With one last glance at you, pink still staining your cheeks, Raphael leaves for the night.

You sit on the bed and touch the back of your neck, feeling the ghost of his hands in your hair. Maybe you wouldn't cut it, after all.

......

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @footninja @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

''Fight and Die'' Slightly darkAemond x AFAB Reader 18+ MDNI PART 6!

Aemond x fem oc/reader

Tags: Show setting, abusive brother (but its not aemond) mentioned of forced marriages and duels, mentions of parental loss.

🔷Summary: Your ancestors once betrayed the Targaryens and paid a high price. Now you are back at court with your brother, who hopes to sell you in exchange for his freedom.

🔷Author's note: It might still be a little darkish but not as dark as usual. I think this is the closest to show aemond I ever got. So he still is not a unicorn yall but he is at least imo he is decent and nice.

🔷Wordcount :3347 

Warnings below the cut

WARNINGS: Gore, mentions of assault (but it doesnt happen, and its not aemond who wants to do it) mentions of blood, gore, and violence as well as miscarriages (oc's mother)

Blood does not scare you. It once did, but not anymore.

It is liquid, water in a way. And there is nothing more natural to you than water.

Just funny coloured water that comes pouring out of your body if you are injured.

You came into this world, covered in blood as your mother bled out on the sheets, according to Fyrand. You were screaming and crying, kicking and alive. Despite Maesters feared the worst, despite your enemies hoping the worst, you came out alive. 

And you did just that.

Time and time and time again.

Whenever you see blood, it brings you back to a distant but fresh memory. Not your birth. You don’t recall what your own mother looked like. You never saw a portrait, or anything. You never dared to ask Fyrand either. Your mother is a wound that never healed.

So, another memory surfaces from the dark instead. A dark memory of you, standing on a ship, during a storm. Your brother close to you, his fingers holding a crown. Your family’s crown.

You recall how badly the ship and the men smelled. Like piss, like beer, like all unpleasant unladylike things. Like hell, if you are being honest. You never had any man eye you with desire, but in that very moment you had. The captain of the pirateship couldn’t keep his eyes off from you.

Fyrand had made a deal, selling the crown for passage to Westeros. But the Captain had decided he wanted more. He wanted you. ‘’Westeros is a boring place. It would be best to have her stay here.’’ You remember the way his crew laughed, that sickening, twisted laughter.

Fyrand has never been kind to you. But he was not stupid either. He would not give up his pawn to a mere pirate. Not when he already offered the crown of his mother.

It is funny how the gods have a sense of humor, as that man that wanted to marry you, too missed an eye. And his teeth were almost falling from his mouth, caused by rotting.

Fyrand huffed, took the crown and left the ship, dragging you with him. But you were denied access and grabbed. The captain placed his dagger against your throat. He hissed that you needed to be quiet and that Fyrand had to make a choice. ‘’Either your sister gives me her hand, or you do.’’ You weren’t sure what you ever did to that man. But you noticed a golden sealion that day. A few weeks after the attack, you found out your house tried to destroy that house. He was taking revenge for a crime none of you were even alive to remember.

You remember how you screamed when Fyrand took a sword of a crewmember and placed it at his left wrist, and just chopped. The flesh teared, blood poured and the captain finally released you as you sobbed on the deck, hearing Fyrand’s roar of pure pain and agony. The hand wasn’t off fully. It remained, tangling by pieces of flesh, as a leaf dancing in the wind. You felt your stomach turn and whatever meal you had would soon come back up. The captain approached Fyrand, grabbed his hand, and just pulled, tearing the flesh fully as Fyrand threw his head in his neck and screamed. 

After that, somehow, you were both allowed to stay. It was a uncomfortable journey for you, but no incidents had happened aside from people calling ‘’doll’’ and smirking whenever you passed. 

You and Fyrand shared one room aboard, and in that room, you stitched close his wound with a needle and ripped threads from one of your dresses. You never had stitched a wound before and Fyrand didn’t have anything to soften the pain. You were afraid at first. But you knew he would die if you didn’t get over it. So you pierced his skin and started stitching, bringing the wound flesh close, and tied it close.

It is strange.

Many years and moons have passed since that night but you can still hear your brother scream and picture his hand, the way the blood sprayed out of his hand, coloring the deck red as the pirates cheered.

Aemond does not seem to notice that you are not there anymore, but your feet become quicker as if you are a dancer that takes the lead and your breath increases. Aemond, Aemond doesn't notice. In truth, Aemond seems happy. Almost dazed, enchanted or drugged. He can't seem to stop smiling as you drag him with you, faster and faster as memories plague your mind.

You think back of the conversation the two of you had earlier. How Ser Criston was allegedly a good sword fighter. How good can he be, if he injured the Prince? “I thought you told me that Ser Criston was an excellent swordsman?” Your voice sounds snappy, angry and furious.

Aemond barely hides his chuckle. You turn around to look at him, so he can see the pain and worry in your face. The moment he sees how much this hurts and worries you, the smile dies. He steps forward. You back away at first but he bumps into you anyway. Clumsily he grabs you gently and kisses your forehead. “He is, Revaera. It was a small cut and my own fault. I got too impatient. I am many things, patient is not one of my qualities.”

You smile, mischievously and play with the pins on his shirt, touching his chest. “Someone should teach you patience. I don't want you injured.” You tell him, kissing his cheeks. 

He breaks into a grin, a stunning bright grin that lights up your entire world. You feel your cheeks warm and are pressed against his body. “Maybe you can teach me.” He whispers, seductively. You like the way he has you where he wants you to. You feel safe and relax, until you see that the wound still drips with blood. You stare at it, as the world seems to fade.

“We need a maester.” You hear Aemond say, but you don’t react. This time, he needs to drag you with him.

You and Aemond soon find the maester in his room. It is nicely decorated and as you assumed, it has dozens of books. You wonder if the Maester himself wrote anything. The maester in question is a bald man, wearing classical robes and a chain, as you suspected. He is reading a big book that lies in front of him on the desk, not paying the two of you any attention. 

That is until you speak, pushing Aemond in his direction, surprising the young prince, who stumbles on his feet, his good eye widened in surprise. ‘’He is hurt. The prince is injured.’’ You speak, your voice clear and calm.

You expect perhaps some urgency. Perhaps a worried glance. You don't expect what happens.

The maester slams his book closed, his eyes full of fear and terror as he looks at Aemond. ‘’What? Where? Show me!’ He cries out. The chair he was sitting on falls on its back and you watch, a bit flustered.

Even Aemond seems shocked.

That was perhaps not a good idea.

You feel terrible when the concerned and dutiful Maester looks at the tiny cut in Aemond’s hands. You really scared the poor man and avoid his eyes for now on. 

Aemond chuckles, smiling at you as if you are his whole world. You don’t understand why, you scared a poor man, and you also made a scene. Yet he seems to appreciate it. 

You think back of his words. Earlier, he mentioned that his father wouldn't even notice if he did not attend the supper you two skipped. What was that supposed to mean? 

The maester allows himself to calm down, sighing with relief as he takes in Aemond's injury. He looks at the cut. ‘’O. A small cut.’’ The maester says, after studying it. “Luckily it looks like a clean one. Did you injure yourself when fighting?” He asks prince Aemond.

Aemond turns his head away, so that is a yes. “It was just a scratch, but Revaera insisted.” Aemond should be annoyed or fed up with your behavior but instead he smiles adoringly at you, holding your hand in his free one as the maester looks closer at the wound.

‘’You have a protective wife, my prince.’’ The maester comments kindly. “It is Princess Revaera, is it not?” He asks you, and you can tell by his piercing glare that he knows all too well who your family is.

You nod. The maester does not say anything but his look says it all. Disapproval.“To have a Marthyralys back in the castle. Your ancestors left a colorful mark on Westeros's history books.” You know he is right. You know your ancestors killed a lot of people. But is it really the time to have that conversation? And is it really up to him to judge you for the crimes of your ancestors? 

Any other day you might have reconsidered: This man has a story, same as you. Maybe he is a family member of someone killed. Or maybe he simply wants to keep the castle and the royal family safe.

But you can't stop the words rolling off your tongue. You can’t stop the fire that burns in your veins. “So did any family worth their salt.”

The maester makes a disapproving grimace. Next to you, Aemond nods approvingly as his wound is cleaned, smirking proudly.

The Maester turns to Aemond, tying the bandage over his cutted hand. “A fierce wife. You do best to muzzle her. I'm not so sure Westeros is ready for such a free spoken woman.” You wonder instantly if the Targaryens knew you were hiding in Pentos. You told Aemond, you assume the court knew but why does a Maester know this? A maester, who knows everything about curing a illness….

And causing one.

You look at Aemond and he seems to know you caught on too, quickly scratching behind his ear and turning his head away once more. You will talk with him about that. But you have another problem. The Maester is right. 

You embarrassed Aemond. You spoke out of line. You threw a tantrum like some little girl. You disappointed him beyond words.

Aemond speaks, and you can't even look at him. You really aren't cut out to be a Princess. “She has become quite fierce. I don't mind it one bit, however. She can speak however she wishes.” He says, fierce and protective. He kisses your knuckles as a token of appreciation and love. Then his gaze hardens when he looks at the Maester. “Westeros might not be ready for her, but she is ready for Westeros. Whether it likes it or not; Here she is and here she'll stay. Am I understood?” You beam, pleased as the Maester visibly cowers, afraid of the temper of the Prince.

You see the Maester gulp and know that Aemond has made his point very clear.  “Yes, my prince.” The maester mutters.

Aemond smiles, barely hiding his pride, that you are his wife. ‘’I am truly blessed. My princess has enough worries on her mind. She does not need this as well.” there is a barely hidden warning there. The maester must not disturb you.

The maester does as he is told, and you and Aemond soon leave his rooms. You walk back with him, your left hand into his injured right one. You try not to think of how your brother lost his own hand. But that is difficult.

You two walk in a peaceful silence and when Aemond speaks, you nearly jump out of your skin. “How has your day been?” You think back of your talk with Fyrand. A baby must soon be made. A child. A heir. And you hate how your memories keep haunting you, whenever you see blood.

And there’s something else.

On your wedding day, Princess Rhaenyra said something that haunts you still. She said she had her ‘’own’’ maesters. Is that a good thing? Or a bad thing? And can you even trust them? And why did she tell you, of all people?

Aemond is unaware your thoughts are gathering and forming a storm in your head. “What hobby did you pick?” He asks Excited to know your answer  as you remain silent.  You freeze. You had forgotten all about that. You would try to find something to entertain yourself. To bring him joy, rest, and so that he doesn’t have to worry when doing his duties.

Some wife you are.

“Uhm, well…I…” You laugh first then you become nervous, as the walls seem to close around you and your breath quickens. 

You laugh, begin to breathe harder and eventually you become dizzy. You sway on your feet and begin crying as the air is taken from your lungs, as you collapse to the ground.

Aemond is shocked at first. He kneels down by you right away however. “Calm, my love. I am not mad. Calm.” He whispers, holding you by your wrists, gently so you may be free any moment you want. He also allows you room to breathe and takes deep breaths with you. You follow his example and soon you feel better and calm and stand back up, with his help.

He kisses you after you have stopped crying too. “I had a change of heart. If it truly makes you that anxious to be outside of my rooms, if it truly upsets you so much…” He swallows and looks at the tiles, clearly ashamed he encouraged you.

That's all he did. Encourage you. To be free. To be happy. To let your trauma go. To live your life. Maybe he is right. “No, maybe you were right. Maybe I need this push.” You speak.

He shakes his head. “I don't want to become someone you fear or worse, hate.” He whispers. 

You could never hate him. “You were only worried for my own wellbeing and safety. You were right, Aemond. I can't stay cooped up in your rooms as some chicken.” No matter how safe you feel there. “No matter how comfortable your bed is.” You add, to jest. He takes it well and laughs, grinning.

Aemond helps you stand, testing if you can remain on your own two feet before letting you go. “How about we try to find something fun to do tomorrow? I never showed you the city. We can do that, should you wish for it.” King's Landing.

You have never seen it. Only heard stories. Stories of fierce men and dangerous dragons and treason and loyalty. “Your ancestors built this city side by side with mine. I know my family wants to erase you from our accomplishments. I know your ancestor was a great traitor. But he is not the only Marthyralys that lived. There are dozens before him that advised and counseled my family…” He is right. You know he is.

But…

Seeing your own history…

You aren’t sure you are ready for that.

Your ancestors might have build this city…

But they build it over the grave of millions.

Is it truly something to be proud of?

But Aemond doesn’t seem to know shame when it comes to history. “So, you could learn your history and ancestry, should you wish it.” He finishes a bit shy, and that makes you understand how important this is to him. He wants to show you the city he grew up in. He wants to spend time with you and to hold your hand as you walk through stinking streets as two ordinary people in love.

“Is that even allowed?” You ask. You doubt his father will approve. The king hates you, you are certain of it. And to have a Marthyralys wonder the streets, learn about Targaryen secrets and plots…

He chuckles. “I'm the Prince. You are the Princess. Asides, how can we learn from our mistakes if we do not acknowledge them?” He asks, and there he makes a good point.

Still, you aren’t sure. “That is true.” You mutter.

He breaks into a grin, victorious at last. “It stands then.” He kisses your cheeks and you are reminded of what you and Fyrand discussed. His baby. Aemond kisses increase as he leaves a trail of kisses on your collarbone, his smile something between a smirk and a smile as he softly pins you against the walls of the hallway, quickly looking around for servants or any other witnesses.

You tremble. And just like that, the spell is broken.

Aemond's good eye closes suspiciously, and the sweet kisses end. “What is it?” It is terrifying how well he can read you already.

You know he wants a baby.

You know so.

And you can’t say that you don’t want that. That you can’t want that. That you are terrified of dying like your mother. “Nothing.” 

He scoffs, concern written all over his face as his body language changes from excited to worry. “There clearly is. Tell me what is the matter? I do wish us to discuss this.” You nod, and Aemond allows you to leave the wall. 

You go to his bedchamber, tears burning in your eyes and you hear his footsteps, never that far behind you.

Aemond closes the door and waits for you to explain yourself. You sit down on his bed, sniffling.  “Fyrand has been pressuring me about a baby.” You admit.

At first he is confused. “A baby?”

You wipe away at your tears, furiously that this makes you so upset. Giving Aemond a child, an heir, making princes and princesses, it should be the highest honor. So why does this terrify and hurt you so deeply? “Yes. A heir for you. For your father too.” You blurt out.

Aemond raises a brow.

“You want to carry my father's heir?”

You would rather die. Disgusted, you shake your head. “No! I meant, I'd give you a son, and him a grandchild. According to Fyrand that will disincrease the hate he has for me.’’

Aemond scoffs, and you can tell he does not agree with that idea. He scoffs at Fyrand, not you. “My brother thought the same thing for a while. But nothing will please that old buffalo.” You keep crying. No matter how eager you are to stop.

Aemond sighs, and he soon joins you on the bed, sitting next to you. He grabs your hands, where you are pulling your skin, to stop just that. “I know it is expected of both of us to soon present our child at court.” You nod at his words.

But he grabs your hands tightly and kisses your knuckles. “But I want us to have that child, when you want to have a child.” You are shocked. 

He continues, storking your belly through your gown. “I want you to glow, beam of pride and joy and to stroke and caress your belly and to love our child. I want you to be ready for it.” He says. 

You can’t believe this.

And so you won’t. “But what of your legacy? The Targargen line? Don't you want my baby?” You ask. You can’t imagine Aemond being fine with his line dying out. You just can’t.

He grins, and you can tell he is hiding something from you. He cares. He cares so badly, about having his legacy, about having this child with you. He is hiding his own darkest desires, his own insidious thoughts. ‘’I want you. I married you. I didn't marry your title. I didn't marry your bloodline. But you, Revaera.’’ You tear up, lips trembling as you wrap your arms around his neck, burying yourself in the safety of his arms. “It's alright, my love. Just let it out.” He whispers, holding you. ‘’We will find a way. I just know we will.’’ You nod, and you wonder just how much he believes his own lies. 

/TRAILER CAME OUT

so uh

IM SCARED xD

[halfadoginatank]

LIGHT A FIRE

Soap’s blood is extremely hot. Temperature-wise, but there's also something strange in it. He's nine when he has an open cut on his finger and doesn't pay attention to where his finger is, a drop of blood into the toaster, and. Boom.

So it functions more like a powerful conduit. When he's in his teens and his friends get their hands on some fireworks he finds out that opening one and adding some of his blood makes the explosion at least ten times more intense.

After that, Soap can admit he got a little obsessed. But his mother saw him reading and spending time in the shed a few meters away from the house and figured she didn't need to worry, as long as he was out of sight.

Soap doesn't exactly think about it too hard when he joins the military. His mother is, distant lately. Emptier, it was fun getting to do whatever he wanted when he was little with few expectations. It's not fun when he burns part of the shed he'd been staying in more frequently and his mother barely gives him a second glance.

He forged his mother's signature on the papers and didn't tell her where he was going. Just that he is. Then he spends two years trying not to look back.

They test his blood during physicals. He's tense the whole time, what if they put it in a machine and the shaking just makes it explode? Sure, it only ever exploded when mixed with extreme heat, and even then it wouldn't be too bad if there wasn't anything mixed with it.

It's not entirely unheard of for some humans to be weird. It's less like superpowers and more like a fancy mutation. Just, someone's parts may be different than a normal person's. The tests came back, and nothing exploded but there were odd chemicals in it. It's not undocumented by any means but they note it's a particularly weird thing to have in his blood and he can't exactly donate it, but it's not hurting him, and other than that he's O positive. They ask him if he's taking anything for his ADHD, and he tells them he doesnt need it, and then they let him leave.

His squadron notes the FNG is particularly good with explosives. He excels in it, he jokes that it's in his blood and no one else gets it. His uncanny ability to focus so hard on things lends itself well to sniping when he's properly trained, he likes that too. Lets himself learn more about the gun he uses, and what scopes are best, and although his math skills are lacking, he learns everything he needs to make the shot.

In year three he signs up for the S.A.S. He doesn't have his hopes up, but despite that he gets it. They have him on as a demolitions specialist. It's never made him happier, he gets access to a lot more than he had at his old base. More chemicals, he does his tests when he's allowed to, and doesn't spend much time as a private.

Then las almas. He considers that one of the most impressive things he's done explosion-wise. He blew up a tank and set charges expertly, using the blood from his scraped hands to cover the fuses and slather it on the C4. Every explosion was just as it always is, satisfying. Feels like the anticipation that builds is the perfect way to gather his anxieties, watching something go, those few seconds of nothingness, no sound just light. Then he watches the flames. Like he burnt that anxiety, burnt the anticipation. He's always loved explosions, but he's loved fire longer.

There is something else notable about Las Almas though. The first day he and the Marines set foot on the LZ he sees the tall man in a skull mask, having been told he’s his CO, and goes to talk to him. When he gets in range, just a few feet away. He shivers, it's less a shiver of cold and more like one of relaxation. The air around Ghost is cold, a chill that balances just how hot he really runs. When they ride in the back seat of Alejandro's car Soap tries to press himself closer to the man without Ghost noticing, it's just too comfortable. To finally not feel like he’s on fire.

Soap has been living comfortably ever since, he stays in Ghost's personal space, and he never seems to mind. somewhere in his head, he hopes his own heat brings the lieutenant some peace.

[nerdee-blondee]

hello. yes. i wanna talk about solas and rook cause bioware gave them a whole bunch of shippy attributes and expected me to NOT TO SHIP THEM? crazy. couldn't be me. ANYWAY i wanna show u what has me INSANE under the cut. SPOILERS AHEAD

SO let me start with a random question. what is a good trope of a period romance?... it's all about the hands

and HOLY SHIT once solas starts getting out of the fade do they focus in on his and rooks hands

lets start with exhibit A. which is my personal fav (and i apologize for all the shitty tumblr quality of these gifs in advanced)

this one was PARTICULARLY insane. how he reaches and hovers his hand by the dagger, but moreover rook's hand. and there's a particular sound queue when it happens that makes it feel like "oh no he almost has what he wants" like what he wants is almost in his grasps. (and rook's hand just HAPPENS to be there too 🤨)

there's THIS. how he unfurls his hand right under the dagger. he could just reach for it palm down but alas there's GOTTA be the imagery that he's actually reaching for rook's hand

so close. ITS LIKE A TEASE

and this final one also has me CRAZY. first of all, this is insane. the HEAVY eye contact (I CAN TALK LATER ABOUT ALL THE EYE CONTACT THESE TWO HAVE CAUSE THAT IN AND OF ITSELF IS WILD). solas pushing the dagger to rook's chest. their hands touching briefly

idk man. u can't give me all the makings of a period romance and expect me to NOT THINK they should smooch 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

(i'm always shipping solas with people that bioware DOESNT WANT ME TO LOL. solavelyan. now solas/rook, whatever this ship name is. god its hard to be a crack shipper 😭)

[aikuse]

HELLO ARIIII🤭 could i maybe have first times with kakucho? it doesnt have to be virginity loss, it can be just your first time together but i leave the choice to you🫶 maybe have him a bit on the more vulnerable side/insecure side at first?

-> you’re new to this, aren’t you? | 2,001 words. afab!reader, vulnerable!kakucho, slight angst/hurt + comfort vibes, cunnilingus (reader!receiving), fingering (reader!receiving), reader teaches kakucho how to eat (their) pussy basically, reader calls kakucho "baby, kakucho calls reader "pretty baby", haitani slander bc i can never leave ran and rindou alone ever lmfao

a/n: snow u know i love a good vulnerable big man concept <3 i hope i did this well for u!! i know i like to write kakucho as being experienced but having you be his first real relationship and wanting to teach him is so sexy of him :( god i wanna suck the skin off him jfc

“You’re new to this, aren’t you?”

You feel Kakucho’s breath still in his chest, his hands freezing on your skin. His eyes are wide, pupils blown, but his white teeth flash as he gnaws at his bottom lip. He doesn’t have to say it, but you can sense what he means. I am new to this. Nobody’s ever wanted me like this before.

It stings in your chest, the realization, and you reach up to cup his cheeks, brushing your thumb across the scar winding along the side of his face. He flinches, but you don’t stop.

“Hey. Talk to me.”

His breath is ragged when he finally sucks oxygen in, and he looks at you pointedly, hands firm on your chest, grasping your breasts tightly as if they’ll keep him from floating away. As if they’ll keep him grounded with whatever he’s about to say.

“S-Sorry, I—”

“Don’t apologize, Kaku. It’s okay, baby.”

Another ragged breath. “Thank you. I-I am new to this, just…I’ve done things before but not with someone who- someone who loves me like you love me and I’m…I’m scared of fucking up.”

His voice grows smaller and quieter as he continues on with his confession, and he moves away from you, attempting to cover his face with his hands, leaving you cold from the sudden loss of body heat. You follow him, though, connected to him like a magnet as you grasp his hands, moving them away from his face. There’s a rage within you, aggressively boiling up as his words sink in.

You and Kakucho were relatively new to the whole sex thing. YOu’d had plenty of partners before, and Kakucho had not; there wasn’t exactly a lot of time to get down and dirty when you’re in a gang; although the Haitanis seemed to disprove that statement, but then again, it’s also the Haitanis.

You’d suggested it today, when you were feeling a little frisky, and he’d approached you gently, removing your shirt and bra expertly, but in actually doing anything beyond kissing, he seemed to fumble and be very insecure about his movements. It almost felt like someone had scolded him into telling him he didn’t do anything right; which wasn’t true, he did know what he was doing on a basic level, but he just needed some fine-tuning.

It makes you angry to know there was someone, or multiple someones, who used the man sitting before you; not teaching him how to pleasure someone properly, or not caring about him enough to bother. Or, even worse, not being intimate with him in a way where he had a chance to gain experience in the first place. The man who’d do anything for you, who makes you dinner on a rough day, who covers the chores when all you want to do is rot in bed all day, who is always there to dry your tears and hold you.

You’d do the same for him, of course. That’s what you’re doing now as you drag him into your embrace, pressing his face into your chest. He takes a deep breath again, and you feel something wet against your skin. You can tell he’s crying; you coo at him, running your nails along his buzz cut, pressing kisses against his temple and scalp and anywhere you can reach as you lay back down, refusing to let him go and run off and isolate himself.

“It’s okay, I promise it’s okay,” you repeat over and over, like a mantra in his ear as he silently cries, tears dripping onto your bare chest and sliding down your sternum.

“A-Are you sure?”

You stiffen, digging your nails into his scalp. “Yes. Why would I have said that if I didn’t mean it?”

“Well, other people have—”

You push his head up, cupping his face again so he can look directly at you again. Your eyebrows are furrowed, that anger still bubbling underneath your skin as you stare into him, the glassy red-and-white stare of the man you love so much the only thing stopping you from not leaving right now and finding the addresses of all the people who have slighted him.

He didn’t deserve that, as much as he thinks he does.

“You didn’t deserve that, Kakucho.”

At the mention of his full name, he flinches again, but it’s not out of fear. It’s out of surprise, like he’s shocked you care this much about him, but he nods. He clearly expects you to stop, but your hands are firm against his face as you keep going.

“You didn’t deserve that at all. I love you, okay?” you say, your voice rising slightly in volume, firm and rock solid, giving him something he can cling onto, “I love you so much, and I want this with you, and I want to help you. I want to teach you. I want you, all of you, and I don’t care if you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. I’m happy to show you how to do all this, I promise. It’s never a problem.”

You can see another wave of tears rising in his eyes as you speak to him, your words weaving themselves into his brain, imprinting on it. It’ll take him a lot longer to gain that confidence back, of course, but this is a start. The tears are no longer saddening tears; they’re happy, relieved as he pulls you into a tight hug, holding onto you like you’ll slip away.

“God, I love you so much,” he whispers shakily into your ear, and you can’t help but giggle at him, rubbing his bare back with your fingers. “Of course, Kaku,” you whisper back, “of course.”

Then, you drag your nails across his back instead, and he lets out a full-body shudder and a growl into your ear. “Fuck, do that again,” he says, his voice low, and as you do, he makes another groaning noise and pushes you back onto the bed, wiping away his tears.

“Fuck, okay, fuck, you’re perfect.”

He breathes it like a prayer as he dives back onto your chest, swirling a nipple around in his mouth, but not exactly correct. It’s a little sloppy, not the level you need him at, and you tap him on the head. He looks up at you through his eyelashes, and you have to collect yourself so you don’t just babble nonsense to him.

“Swirl it like you’re licking a lollipop.”

He swirls his tongue just as you say, and your hips jerk into his own, the motion just right.

Perfect, even.

“God, you pick up on things quickly, huh?” you tease as he moves to the other nipple, your sentence cutting off in a moan as he does the same to the other nipple. You can feel his lips moving into a smirk against you as he breathes against the hardened nipple, gently sucking on it.

“What can I say? I learn fast.”

He makes his way down, his thumbs hooking into your pants and underwear as he pulls them off in one go, and his hot breath against your dripping center has you whining for him, your hips twitching at the feeling of his tongue against you. You need it, you need it so badly—

His tongue takes one long, slow lick from your hole to your clit, flicking against the nub, but it’s not quite where you want it to be. You let him do it again, before you grip his head and tap him, causing him to look up at you in question. His cheeks are bright red with blush, like a puppy. If he’d had a tail, you’d imagine it’d be wagging while he waits for you.

You take a deep breath. “Stick your tongue out.”

He complies, and you push his head against you, allowing the wet tip of his tongue to traverse your lips and crevices, until they land on the one spot that makes you see stars. You jerk up into his mouth when his tongue skirts across it, and it’s like you’re beaming the message into his brain, because he doubles down on that specific spot, swirling across it like he did with your nipples.

Holy shit.

“Do it in a figure eight,” you stammer out, using your finger to draw a figure eight in the air. He blinks at you, before nodding and trying it, and fuck, you could’ve cum right there watching him comply so innocently with your commands. Seeing him so pliant beneath you, learning what gets you off, was such a hot circumstance to be in that the room felt like it’d been raised a few degrees. The coil in your stomach is hot, tight and warm, and—

Suddenly, he stops, and he moves away to look up at you.

“Am I good?”

You stare at him incredulously. “What?”

He repeats the question, his hands gripping the fat of your hips so tightly that it might bruise.

It felt good.

You blink at him. “I—yes, but—”

He smirks at you, although the embarrassment is still strong in his eyes as he dives back into you. “Jus’ wanna make you feel good, baby,” he mumbles against you as he takes up his movements again in a faster motion, and you let out a loud moan, nodding. “You’re so good, Kaku, so good for me—”

He murmurs against you. “Can I…can I finger you?”

You laugh at the innocence of the statement, before nodding aggressively as his tongue flicks against you again. “Yes, God, yes,” you breathe, and one of his thick fingers slides in only a beat later. It’s getting more difficult to concentrate on teaching him how to do this, mainly because he is taking to how to pleasure you like a fish to water. It’s insane how fast he’s learning the spots that make you squirm; he’s perceptive, you knew that already, but this is another level. It’s like he’s turned all of his senses up to eleven to detect even the slightest discomfort.

“Up a little bit.”

“There?”

“To the side.”

“How about there?”

“Can you curl your—oh, shit—”

Not only does he add another finger, but he curls his fingers against that spongey spot inside of you and that does it. “Fuck, Kaku, ‘m gonna—”

“You’re gonna cum for me, pretty baby?”

“Fuck!”

At the pet name, the dam bursts, and you cream all over his fingers, shaking and sputtering against him. His mouth is on you in a second, licking and sucking up all of your wetness that dribbles out of you. He doesn’t stop, unknowingly about to fuck you into overstimulation as you cry out, twitching against him as he curls and scissors his fingers inside of you. It’s hitting all the sensitive areas inside of you, and by the time you finally come down and his fingers slide out, his chin is wet with your essence, looking up at you with a reddened face.

“Did I do good?” he whispers, and you pull him up, your gaze softened with the post-climax daze. You pull him close, tucking him underneath your chin, and sighing.

“Yeah, you did good. Great. High marks across the board.”

His chest rumbles with a laugh as he moves to tuck you into his own chest, letting you melt against him, his large hands skating across your back. “Thank you,” he breathes, and you look up at him with a smile, before pressing a kiss to his lips. “Of course, baby,” you respond, and his face gets even more red, bashfulness flooding his eyes.

“Can I ask you something?”

You cock your head. “Yeah?”

He looks away from you, as if weighing the consequences of his request he’s about to ask. When he does, heat floods down to your core, turning you on again so fast that you see stars.

“Can I…do that again?”

You giggle against him.

“Of course. Call it an assessment of your skills you’ve learned so far.”

divider credit: @/benkeibear

networks: @thehoneypotserver @enchantedforest-network

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

© kakuchari 2023-2024

[redrandomposts]

??? idk man im here for hua cheng angst. has gone off the rails. fake date au, modern college au, angst...hm (bottom hua cheng mentioned??)

hey its future me here i found this in my drafts and dragged it out by its hair

-in a modern college au, xie lian is telling shi qingxuan about his love troubles — how he's in love with his friend, but his friend has a beloved

-shsi qingxuan, connoisseur of fanfiction and #2 hualian shipper, suggests he fake-dates someone to "get over hua cheng." (in reality, to get hua cheng jealous and take matters into his own hands)

-except... it doesn't go as planned. xie lian fake dates shi qingxuan and tells feng xin and mu qing about the entire plan, who helps sell the lie. in a week, everyone knows shi qingxuan and xie lian are dating.

-hua cheng doesnt show much change at that. it perplexes literally everyone, except the oblivious xie lian. and, well, except his two lackeys (friends).

-he xuan eventually finds hua cheng in his bathroom, shakily holding a dagger to his hair. the path divets and nearly cuts the tip of his ear, had he xuan not interrupted him.

-yin yu... as his roommate, yin yu sees more. hua cheng paints his fantasies, as usual, with him and xie lian. he holds up a lighter right to the painting, burning off himself. it was as if it were some sort of therapy, or brainwashing, reminding him to stay only friends with xie lian.

-shi qingxuan, frustrated, recruits pei ming. in the face of romance, he is unusually the best at it considering how he never holds long-term relationships.

-pei ming immediately sees the faults, yet when he points it out, shi qingxuan says, "it's all in the fanfiction! watch any c-drama and it'll be the same!"

-after a month, he xuan literally can not put up with whatever shi qingxuan is pulling. he knew it was a farce, but was willing to put up with it for them. his mind quickly changed after encountering hua cheng using a weapon to cut some unpleasant part of his body off nine too many times.

-"why do you even have so many weapons?" "gege likes them." "you idiot, just give it to him then!" "gege said i should keep it because im the one who bought them."

-yin yu, likewise, cant put up with the cult-like behavior either. it was as if hua cheng had gone insane, and forcibly drained it every day doing some freaky thing. hua cheng, although adept at fire before, became scarily masterful at handling it.

-it culminates to he xuan confronting shi qingxuan, who insists to continue, and yin yu confronting xie lian, who hears the bullshit shi qingxuan told xie lian.

-"who else is in this plan of yours?" "feng xin, mu qing, and pei ming." "pei ming? what did he say about it?" "that it was a...stupid plan. but shi qingxuan said it would work perfectly!" "you didn't listen to the many-proclaimed god of romance? shi qingxuan doesnt even have a love life to go off of..."

-as if to prove a point, he xuan begins to hang out with hua cheng more. like, making a monthly meet-up into a daily meet-up. rumors spread throughout the campus, "are they dating?" and no one says anything, so it becomes widely assumed that they are.

-xie lian does not feel good. he has to follow shi qingxuan's plan, but feels jealousy ripping at him every moment he's apart from hua cheng. it's he xuan and hua cheng hanging out together, rather then xie lian and hua cheng.

-when he finally hears the rumors, he can't help it. plan be damned, shi qingxuan be damned, getting over hua cheng be damned. he finds hua cheng in the hallway, pins him to the wall and kisses him.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hello friend !

Can you make a daemon x fem reader who previously was in love with him but he ignored her, so she focused on herself and her goal to be the best warrior who lived and becomes engaged to daemon , who now she neglets bcs she doesnt care for him anymore , but he wants her now?

Happier Than Ever

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: "When I'm away from you, I'm happier than ever."

Word Count: >700

Warnings: Arranged/forced marriage, fem!reader, pining, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: The title of this fic is a Billie Eilish song, and Kelly Clarkson's rendition of it- UGH. MY HEART IS THRIVING, so i highly suggest you to miss K's version while reading this or smth im not in the mood to proofread this so RIP enjoy the typos i hope you like it nonnie i worked overtime for this when i have like 10 assignments or something idk i dont know

He watched as you flatten your skirt from the other side of the room. Daemon knew it was nothing but habit; he knew all of your habits at this point.

He watched as you push your hair away from your face as you laughed at whatever it was that was so funny to you.

Daemon watched as you shared this amusement with someone else, with some other man, and as jealous as he was, he was helpless. He could lash out on you, like he has, but you would not even put up a fight and come to him to pacify him right away.

At first, he reveled in this, in knowing how ready you were to be by his side, for that was all he wanted, but when he realized you were burning your fire out because you saw nothing in him--

He saw how you bantered with the maids, disagreed with the guards, defied the wishes of lords and commanders that outranked you.

And yet you did his every whim no matter how twisted he got, because you decided he was not worth it the conflict, not anymore.

Where once in your shared youth, you followed him down the halls, pestering him with your presence, and your grins, and the sound of your heels, and hushed giggles at words he said that weren't even funny, you now offered him polite smiles and pleasantries that lost its meaning with every time you replayed it to him.

And even now as you finally caught him staring, your smile fell as you turned back to whom who had been amusing yourself with, nodding once, then making your way to him.

You reach out to him, and he takes it, but he does not have you.

You offer him a smile as he presses his hands on yours, "is everything alright, my prince?"

He leans back on his chair, at this feast that was meant to celebrate his engagement, his victory of having you. But it was no victory, because it was not you who agreed, but your father.

"Nothing is alright," Daemon mutters as he pulls away.

Concern laces your face, and it makes him scoff.

"Is it because I was conversing with my fellow from the battalion?"

Daemon looks up at you and your face that he was stupid enough to wish away at one point in his life, "yes. I am jealous that you laugh at his pathetic jokes, or whatever it is you were laughing at."

You stiffen, tilting your head down, "I see. Then I shall-"

"You shall do nothing," he quips, standing from his seat, "you shall do nothing."

You watch as he walks over to you and seethes. You shake your head, "so... want me to return to him?"

Daemon thinks that the fact you gasp when he roughly grabs your face is some form of twisted hope, "I want you to be mine."

He watches as your hands dart up to his wrists and how your expression darkens at his show of force.

Push me away. Shove me. Step your heel onto my jaw. Make me bleed.

"I am yours already," you admit through a jagged breath, "we are nigh to be married."

The memory of how you tackled him to the ground when he made himself too familiar with you after years of not speaking to each other played in his mind. You told him you grew up, that the little girl who doted on the Targaryen prince was no longer interested in becoming his fool. It was your fire, the cuts on your arms, the blood on your clothing from your recent escapade that drew him to you.

And so he shout it from the rooftops, the warrior woman whose might was beginning to be known far and wide, was to be his bride.

It was a match smiled upon the gods, they said, none could compare.

And yet he was in hell as he squeezes your cheeks and counted your breaths.

He releases you with a shove and you reel back.

The both of you can feel the onlookers and hear their whispers.

Daemon does nothing but watch as you turn away from him and storm off.

Wait... you stormed off.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Severus Snape x Fem!Reader || Drabble

Plot: Severus finally finishes it; the painting of you - the only girl who ever kissed him. The one who didn't care; who then broke his heart and went off with another boy. // Alternatively; Sev's a glutton for punishment.

Warnings: Oh theirs a lot wrong with this picture- pardon my pun. Entrapment (literally), age difference (Technically you are the same age but you died at 17, so your painting is 17. And he's in his 30's), entitlement, self hatred, etc. Snape's a mess.

"Pingis... vivi."

With those words spoken and a waive of his hand over the canvas, the paint melded together to look 17, alive and beautiful, just the way that you did, something changes in your acrylic eyes. Something turns from fake to real. Then you blink, and shift out of the position he painted you in. You tuck hair behind your ears again, and get up off the seat he drew for you.

Snape watches in reverent silence, waiting... will it be you? Really you, or a pathetic pantomime? Will you recognise him, decades later, if you are you?

He's staring, so the girl inside the frame gives him an odd look, and turns away to ignore him- then snaps her neck back his way. Recognition in your wide eyes. "-Sev???"

"... Y/N."

"Did you make yourself an aging potion to get into the club?" You giggle, the sound better than windchimes to him. "I mean- the professors robes are kinda sexy, but I think you put in a little too much aging agent! You look- " Before Snape can speak, you're reaching forward for him-- and missing. Eyebrows furrowing, you step forward this time and try again, still reaping the same results. Its as though no matter how far you go, you don't truly get more then a foot away from your spot.

Stepping back, you look around you- left and right, seeing things that Snape can't fathom (not being a painting himself. Perhaps the scene behind you continues on, or perhaps there are long, eternal hallways. He's never cared to stop and ask any of the annoying idiots on the grand Hogwarts walls.). Still watching you carefully, he sees the exact moment that realisation dawns on you. You lower your arms, cross them over your chest, and slowly look back at him. "Sev, am I dead?... I mean- I must be. What happened??"

"Thats not important- "

"It's very important, Severus." You snap. Its not the firet time you ever cut him off, but it has been a long time since anyone did that to him. Especially not a school girl. He doesnt enjoy it; it puts a sour taste in his old mouth. "Tell me."

"It... I said it's not important." He almost gives in to you, like he used to. But he's not 17 anymore, he's a grown man and you're just a girl. "Wasnt me, anyhow, if thats what you're thinking." You will listen to him. You have to, now. With both hands on the ornamental, golden frame he encased you in like a pretty thing just to look at, he leans in towards the paint. "You listen to me, now... I brought you back. So... "

"So??"

"So that makes me your master." He hisses quickly, making your eyes narrow. What can you do about it, though?? Nothing. You can't leave. He can say whatever, he wants. "Allow me to repeat, my words. Hm? You. listen. to me."

"I don't have to do anything you say." You scowl, waiving a dismissive hand at your old friend. Your old almost. Your dodged bullet. "Severus, just disenchant the painting."

With an eye roll, Snape adjusts his thick fingers on the frame; frustration heavy in ever muscle. You're not getting it. Always so thick in the head, you were. So stubborn, so imperious.

That would have to stop.

"I... can't... "

"What do you mean you can't? Yes you can, Severus. I'm not playing a game here. Disenchant the painting right now."

"No." The one word stops you talking for a whole moment, and it's the first time Severus ever stood up to you. It feels good. So after Straightening up, letting go of the painting - of you, - , and fixing his robes; he repeats it. "No, Y/N."

A new smoke begins to floods yours wide, clear eyes, then; fear. And a dark part of Snape enjoys it. "... What do you want?"

"... What do you think?"

"I don't know, I can't understand crazy people." Anger takes fears place; anger and hatred. Just like that.

... Snape figured this would happen, so he isn't hurt. Not yet, anyway. This changed nothing; all that matters is that you're all his, now. You were always a fickle little thing, anyway.

He gives another eye roll instead of fully reacting to your crassness; beady, dark, almost-black hues almost dissapearing entirely into his forehead. "I assure you, silly girl, I'm entirely sane... " With a swish of his robes, Snape turns his back on you suddenly and moves around his room- looking for something as you watch. "Would you believe it, if I told you I... missed you?"

"Oh my god, you turned into a sad old man- didn't you? I'm not surprised." It's all you can do to him, your capter- insult him. So you will, and you'll enjoy it. "And by sad, I mean pathetic."

With a squinty-eyed scowl thrown your way, Snape pulls out a draw from his desk and sifts through it; choosing to ignore your cheap, juvenile jabs. "Well, I have missed you. You were... you were the only one, who... " You watch him pull out a framed photograph. There's no dust on it- so why was it tucked away in a drawer? He gives it a soft look for a moment, before returning to you. "You were the only one who noticed me."

Rolling your eyes across the canvas, you shake your head at him. No... "I didn't care for you, though, if that's what you're on about. I was kind to you, because you seemed like a future creep and I didnt wanna be murdered. There's a difference."

He gives a huff. So?? "Sure. Whatever." Whatever makes you happy. While you continue to glare at him, thinking of what to say next- what would pull him apart (You ended up quite good at that. Which is why, he needs you)- Severus sets down the framed photo; setting it ontop of a nearby pile of luggage facing you. It's a picture of you and him, of course. Taken by you, not so long ago. Or... quite a while ago, by the looks of Snape.

While you grimace at the picture, he takes another turn around his room and locates a little vial of potion. When you notice him approaching you, or your portrait, with it- you turn up your nose. "... what's that?"

Snape barely spares you a glance, uncorking it and ysing his thumb instead to cover the top before he shakes it up; being sure that all the ingredients are properly mkxed together. Focused on it. "Mm, just a little fail safe for myself... or you."

"What do you mean??" Eyebrows knitted together in frustrated confusion, you comb your brain for any information you had about enchanted paintings, but come up short. Severus was always a better student then you were.

"Just have to... " Severus dips a paintbrush into the vile, the brushes coming back wet with some clear liquid. "Give you one more, final, coat. And... " The feeling of being painted over is cold, but not wet. More like a cold chill that leaves you feeling bare and exposed for a few moments. Snape paints over your entire scene, from both of the top corners to the both of the bottom corners. When he's finished, you look around to see if anything different... and find nothing. What did he do?? "You should be... safe."

"...- safe!?"

"Stuck." He amends, raising his brows as if to say 'what are you going to do about it?'.

Him saying that gives you a very bad feeling and you immediacy move- attempting to leave the scene just like you've seen all the paintings in Hogwarts do. Weave in and out of different works, like a ghost.

But the moment you try and leave the frame, you bang right into an invisible force like a wall. A gasp springs from you, as you step back and reach forward to touch it. It feels solid like brick. With incensed eyes, you whip your head around to glare at Snape. "... of all the cruel things. You're trapping me here!??"

"Its- "

"You bring me back from, what was quite possibly peace, and make me look at your ugly face for the rest of eternity!? How is that fair!"

"Oh don't throw a tantrum. No need for dramatics, you little twit. You won't be here for an eternity." He rolls his eyes upwards, pursing his lips and shaking his head at you like you're just a silly little girl. "The paint'll dry and flake off, long before that." 

"So, what then?? How long?"

"Just... " For the first time since he enchanted the painting, Snape's eyes find yours. "Until... "

"-Until??" You narrow your eyes some more and set your hands firmly on your hips; waiting expectantly for an explanation. What you punishment here was, exactly.

"Until... " He could tell you the truth, he thinks. The whole truth. About Dumbledore and the Lord, and Lily... you couldnt go and tell anyone. Not even if someone came in here looking for secrets, you wont come alive for anyone else but him. He was quite good at potions. "I feel... " Until he's atoned. Until you've punished him well enough. Until he feels better. "-until I'm no longer lonely, Y/N." He finally says quickly, lying. He can't help it. Maybe one day he can tell you, but he can't bring himself to say any of it- not just yet.

The responce gives you pause, anyway. You don't know what to say. Are you supposed to... what? Feel sorry for him??

"And you chose me, to fill your sad pathetic void, Severus??

Oh, you are going to be sorry you brought me back Sev. You're stuck with me now, and I am going to make your life hell."

"... good." Thank you.

[kookblurx]

1920 - jjk [ chpt 6. ]

→ SUMMARY: a photo of a beautiful smiling boy; an old tree in your grandparents garden ... and a feeling of sadness. all those things are connected to each other ...

→ GENRE: time travel au; changing fate au; rencarnation au; university au; death; sickness; historical setting; trigger topics; smut; dirty talk; switching between present and the past.

→ chapt. 5 / chapt. 7

→ RATING: 18+

→ NOTE: HUGE DISCLAIMER, this story plays in a fantasy setting. the world YN lives in doesnt exist, neither jungkooks. so please dont mention anything just because its not historically correct. this is piece of art. so yes, jungkook wears armor like a knight and no there are no guns in his time period. thanks.

JUNGKOOK MASTERLIST ♡.°₊ˎ PLAYLIST FOR THIS CHAPTER

The Present

a grunt escaped your lips as the sun peeked through the half open yellow curtains. squinting one of your eyes, sun only became more brightly with each second. a bit clumsy you tried to reach the digital clock on the top of your nightstand. while doing so your phone got knocked on the ground, for the time being this wasnt something which bothered you. another grunt left your lips as the clock showed 8am in the morning, it was still too early to be awake. the events from last night werent present in your mind as you climbed up onto your bed. surrounded by your fluffy blanket, you cuddled deeper into the mattress. as soon as your eyes finally gave in to your tired body something shifted beside you. you didnt even had the time to turn your body around as someone grabbed your right wrist. with a strong pull, your body was turned onto your bed. automatically your eyes widened as you looked into the face of a young man who was hovering over your body. still sleepy you couldnt tell who this man was and how he got into your room.

"its really bold of you to sneak into the bed of a man like this"

his voice was husky as the corner of his lips curled up into a small smile. you heard that voice before, that soft voice. the back of your neck grew hotter as your eyes try to make sense out of this situation. slowly they travelled down on the man's body, as they reached his abdomen and you finally saw the bandages, everything clicked. last night came back into your mind as you looked back into his face. there it was, the cut on his cheek.

"I-I didnt mean to ... wait this is actually my-!"

jungkook still had his smirk on his face as he moved closer to you. one of his hands cupped your cheek before he rubbed with his thumb over your ear a bit. right now you could die out of embarrassement. the back of your neck grew hotter with each inch he came closer to you. by now you were even able to feel his breath on your skin.

"Ugh ..." escaped from your lips as your whole body twitched.

no guy ever touched you like this, at least not on your ears. while you were wiggling underneath him, jungkook clearly enjoyed the few. his thumb travelled down from your ear to your neck.

"You are really cute ... i should thank you properly for saving me yesterday" so he knew who you were, he wasnt playing around.

you were to embarrassed to even move or pushing him away. with every inch he moved closer your whole face heated up more. you surely must look like a tomato right now. before his lips could touch yours the phone on the ground suddenly started ringing. that was the moment when you regained your senses back. with a strong push you managed to get rid of jungkooks body as he fell to your right side onto the bed. but before you were able to grab your phone from the ground, Kook grabbed your wrist again. this time he pushed you behind his back as he had one of your scissors in his hand.

"Stay back Y/N! Whatever this thing is .. i wont let it harm you!" you couldnt see his face but he sounded serious.

of course he would be worried .. jungkook never saw a smartphone before, let alone ever heard of one. with a soft chuckle you placed your hand onto his wrist before you slowly remove the scissors.

"dont worry, it wont harm me ... or you. See?" as you moved over to the edge of the bed you took the phone into your hands.

jungkook widened his eyes as you were pressing something. as you finally held it to your ear he came closer. of course on the other line was none other than jimin:

"hey jimin, what is it?" "hey ... i just wanted to check if .. last night was a dream or if hes still with you?" "well, i wish it would had been a dream but he's here and healthy as it seems ..." ".... can i come over?" "sure. you will be more of a help than i am ... you know more about his family and stuff. might be helpful" "got it. see you later"

after you hung up jungkook still looked at you like you were some kind of alien. unfortunately you didnt had the time to explain to him what that phone was. it was probably better for him if you were planning to send him back. who knows what such knowledge would cause in the past.

putting the phone away on the nightstand you finally was faced with a bigger challenge: how on earth should you hide him from your grandparents.

"is ... everything okay?" jungkook sounded worried as he moved closer to you, to the edge of the bed.

it was really suprising how he wasnt confused about this new place. suddenly you remembered that he lived here, in this same mansion. maybe this place wasnt too strange to him.

"let me ask you something ... do you know where we are?" your head turned into his direction.

"... hm ... i would say we are in my mansion ... i looked out the window earlier and saw the tree but ... " for a moment his eyes looked around your room "i guess ... im not really home?"

it nearly broke your heard because of his last sentence. thats right, he was home but at the same time he wasnt. with a sigh you stood up from your bed and walked over to the closet. luckily your grandpa stored some of his "old clothes" in your closet, so you wouldnt need to steal from him. hopeful that they would fit Jungkook you chose a pair of jeans and a basic black Tshirt. of course he was wary of the pants and the shirt. jungkook was a knight and only wore linen clothes. with your help he managed to change his clothes without opening his wound again. even helping him to get dressed was embarrassing because of the stuff that happened earlier.

you couldnt ignore how well build his body was and how his biceps flexed while putting on the shirt. but that wasnt enough. the pants fitted just fine, the shirt on the other hand was too small and flattered his tiny waist too well. gulping you rushed over to the door, making sure that your grandparents werent near. in the meantime you scolded yourself for acting like a damn teenager in front of a grown ass man. yes, he was good looking but that wasnt a reason to crush on him like this.

"w-wait here for a moment okay?"

after jungkook nodded you slipped out of your room and down the stairs. the foyer was empty so you made your way into the kitchen. no one there, good. after checking the big garage you finally came to the conclusion that your grandparents must be away at the moment. with fast steps you ran back into your room, ordering jungkook to follow you down into the library. even if they would came back, that was your space. while you were here they would never disturb you by walking in.

Inside the Library:

"woah ... this is huge! ... but wait, normally it shouldnt have this much of books" jungkook walked around the various shelves as he raised an eyebrow. "can you ... maybe tell me what is going on here?"

you this question would come up sooner or later but you would have preferred it when Jimin was here. with another sigh you sat onto the ground were some of the papers were still scattered around you. slowly you picked one of them up. it showed his photo, all smiling. it was this damn photo which ruined everything. you just wanted to jump to the moment were this photo was taken. instead you ended up on a battlefield. curious jungkook sat down beside you and snatched the paper out of your hand.

"hey! wait!" you wanted to get it back but to no avail.

jungkook's face grew serious as he studied the paper "... those are ... informations about me. where do you got all these?"

"thats ... okay listen. this might be crazy but i brought you here .. this isnt 1920 ... you are in my timeline and ...here you are already ..-"

"dead."

the word sounded so bitter that it gave you a sting inside of your heart. at the same time you prayed that this revelation wouldnt change something drastically in his timeline. before you could reach out your hand, something got thrown against the balcony window. this must be jimin. leaving jungkook with the papers you ran over to the window to open it. outside you helped Jimin climb up again but as he managed to stand on solid ground again, he didnt walk inside. instead he grabbed your arm, looking at jungkook who was still reading through the various papers

"its really him huh? fuck ... i dont know how you managed that but i think we are in big trouble ..."

"you dont need to tell me that ... im already trying to find a way to bring him back as soon as possible .. but for now its good you are here" slowly you pushed jimin inside before closing the doors.

"huh? why? you mentioned something similiar over the phone earlier"

"its ... Park Jimin is you ancestor and he was Jungkook's best friend. you two look really alike and share the same name ..."

"ah i see .. you want to give him some comfort huh?"

you nodded as you watched how jimin walked over to the confused looking jungkook. as he tapped him on the shoulder a jolt went through jungkook's body. to your suprise he immediately hugged Jimin. expecting that jimin would refuse that hug you were more suprised as he hugged kook back. the scene in front of you was really sweet but at the same time your mind drifted back to earlier as kook ran his fingers down your neck. your cheeks began to burn again as you shaked your head. this wasnt the time to think about such things.

the moment you sat back down next to the guys, jimin already explained to jungkook that he isnt really the jimin he was looking for. somehow jungkook seemed to understand this much.

"so ... that must mean jimin found a nice girl and had a family with her huh?" a smile spread across jungkook's face

"uh yeah you could say that" jimin on the other hand rubbed over his neck, slightly nervous.

"what about me? are there any ...great grandkids or something from me? do i find a wife for myself!"

jungkook seemed so excited as he looked at the both of you. at the same time jimin and you could only look at each other. the fact that jungkook's family tree ended with him, made your heart feel heavy. you didnt want to tell him the truth. that he needed to die without every finding love.

"jungkook listen you-"

as jimin started to speak he suddenly froze mid sentence. confused you waved with one hand in front of his face but there was no reaction at all. this could only mean one thing. the fairy was back. suprisingly jungkook wasnt frozen and looked as confused as you.

a book got knocked from the shelve as the fairy revealed herself. her blonde hair was messy and strands of it fell into her face. quickly you stood up just to take her into your hands

"oh god what happened ... you look horrible"

"we ... we have a big problem ... HUGE PROBLEM .... " the fairy was completely out of breath.

jungkook also finally stood up from his place and walked closer to the two of you "what happened?" compared to your shaky voice, his was more serious.

slowly the fairy finally lifted her face "we are doomed .."

"what do you mean! talk to me finally!" carefully you shaked the fairy in your hands a bit

"its .. its jimin"

Taglist:

@junecat18 @hellbornsworld @stupendouscookiehumanmug

[ghcstao3]

hi, hope you're well! so today I was thinking (bc ofc my brain's natural reaction is to lunge viciously for the hurt/comfort), what if the '09 game events still happened? Like, instead of AUs (where timelines branch off from a single event), it's a glitch in the timeline? So you have the '22 version of the 141 doing their thing, but they have nightmares & deja vu stemming from the '09 stuff. Cue (yes I'm shipping) SoapGhost where Ghost has all these bad feelings concerning Shepherd plus he has awful nightmares about burning & Soap's there to comfort him, but he's afraid that they're all losing it bc he keeps having similar dreams concerning how he dies--

i am well ty! hope u are as well!

anyway i tried my Best. however u may (will) have to pretend 22 141 doesnt know shepherd was part of the betrayal bc uhhh yeah👍🙂👍 also cw for kinda graphic desc of ghost’s nightmares

-

Soap couldn’t pinpoint when the dreams started, or why, for that matter—but what he does know is that it’s pure and utter torment.

It’s a unique fear that festers in their wake, in cold sweat and heart palpitations. It’s spine-chilling in a way Soap has never experienced, because while he’s confident he’s looked death in the eyes on too many occasions, never has he actually died.

But his dreams, these dreams—they tell him otherwise. And he isn’t the only one, either.

Gaz and Price have started to look just as sleepless. And Ghost—Soap has never seen him so afraid. When, for the first time in weeks, Soap sees his face, it’s harrowed. Haunted.

There’s a sense of familiarity that’s brought along with Soap’s dreams; explosions, gunfire, dilapidated buildings and someone screaming his name. His brain supplies him with the knowledge that it’s Price, but it isn’t, not really. At least, not how he knows Price. He feels old wounds tearing open and a searing pain in his side as his body is drained of far too much blood, and Price—not his Price—is shaking him. Begging.

In the end, it just makes sense to Soap. To die in the field. But the dream is too visceral to feel anything but real, and he starts to wonder just when he’d begun to deserve these sorts of taunts.

Gaz says his own nightmares are blunt, but just as violent. As fiery. Price doesn’t say anything, but there’s a new sunken quality to the bags under his eyes, and he just looks at his team so different, with a tortured gaze and a regret so profound he doesn’t seem to understand it himself.

Finally, Soap thinks, their mental states have deteriorated beyond repair. Until, in his arms, Ghost is screaming his throat raw in his sleep, a wail only ever sounded by those trekking their way through hell. Soap’s heard it before, from others, in their final moments, but never from the living.

And that’s when Soap begins to understand that these aren’t just some dreams, but some distant reality he hopes to never face.

Soap gently coaxes Ghost from his slumber, cutting through nightmare and imagination and whatever horrible thing could have Ghost in such pain. His face wets with tears as he slowly wakes, clinging to Soap like a child might to their mother’s leg in an indescribable fear. Ghost has never seemed so small.

“It’s not just you,” Soap whispers. He presses a kiss to Ghost’s temple, pulls the man closer. “Tell me what happened.”

As Ghost gradually forces out the words Soap begins to feel sick, nauseated not only by their contents but by the knowledge that Ghost had just lived through it, but he never lets go. Never asks for Ghost to stop speaking, just listens. Listens even as something gnaws away at his gut, as bile climbs his throat.

Hot, Ghost says. It was hot. A bullet had been lodged somewhere in his body but it didn’t matter—it was hot. He’d claw off his skin to get rid of the heat if it weren’t already melting flesh from muscle, from bone. Clothes and gear meld with his corpse and he feels it all, feels the bubbling, smells the burning, senses the way parts of his body slough off into ash.

He’s reaching for someone, and there’s the itch of betrayal, and a voice in his ear that he knows, instinctually, is Price, but there isn’t anything more he can do than lie there and accept his fate as his fleeting thoughts pester him about everything he’d done wrong. About everything he could’ve done—should’ve done to save… to save—

“I know his name,” Ghost murmurs, “but I also don’t. And I—“

“Don’t dwell on it, Simon,” Soap advises. “Please.”

Ghost shakes his head against Soap’s shoulder. “I can’t just—it’s not something I can forget, Johnny. Not when it keeps happening.”

“But you can,” Soap pleads. A terrible sense of dread has befallen him, growing in intensity and insistence. Something isn’t right, but he doesn’t know if he wants to find out just what. “We all can.”

Ghost is silent a moment. Shifts somehow closer to Soap. Soap can hear him thinking.

“I don’t know if we should be trusting Shepherd,” he finally says.

Soap’s face pinches in a tight frown. It seems such a random topic for this hour, after such terror. “Why?”

Ghost shrugs. “Can’t explain it. Gut feeling. Could be wrong, but—“

“When are you ever?” It’s meant to be teasing, but Soap does trust Ghost’s judgement more than anyone, perhaps even more than his own. Ghost just nods and clings ever tighter until his breathing evens out and tense muscles go lax.

Soap can’t find it in himself to fall back asleep.

Instead, he begins to wonder just how true these nightmares hold. And he begins to question how exactly Shepherd may fit into all of it.

Unfortunately, though, he supposes, there’s only one way to find out.

[controversial-blorbo-bracket]

Controversial Character Tournament Round 2: Kristoph Gavin from Ace Attorney vs Tom Paris from Star Trek: Voyager

(remember that these characters are fictional and your fellow tumblr users are real. i will block you if you harass others in the notes, please consider sending your unhinged harassment to my inbox instead)

Propaganda under the cut, may contain spoilers:

Kristoph Gavin:

LOVE: - "[Major apollo justice spoilers] Listen listen listen, you ever just, commission fake evidence someone will slip the defense just so you can tip off your brother (the prosecution) so you can get that defense attorney disbarred? Dyou ever then just spend 7 years being that guys best friend, confidant and dinner buddy??? To the point where when you kill his daughters birth father you're his defense but you're secretly trying to fail. And dyou leave the fans wondering if this was 4D chess to ruin the man he accidentally got obssessed with or because the poisoning he orchestrated years prior was SO well done he never got found out and he kinda wants credit for it??? Anyways. You ever think about how he's got a skull shaped scar on his hand that never gets explained, or that he has connections to TWO of the main characters, nay THREE, BUT THIS NEVER GETS EXPLORED BCUZ THE GAME JUST DOESNT HAVE THAT MUCH STORAGE???? He's undoubtedly a fucked up little fancy man, and ace attorney fans either don't care about him or Hate him or Love him or love to hate him." HATE: - "Ruined the life of MY blorbo (Phoenix Wright) 👎👎👎 Also literally just evil for no reason. Wakes up every day and decided to be the worst version of himself. I can respect the choice to wear nail polish tho. I hate him but a lot of people in the fandom like him (carnally) so whatever" - "Gosh I hate this man so much but it's so much fun to do it. Ruined at least one life and killed at least three people because...idk egotistical control freak? Then proceeded to hang around the guy whose life he ruined like a weird psychological experiment for 7 years before deciding to frame him for murder. Look at those smug glasses. I hate him"

Tom Paris:

HATE: - "he's a whiny little nepo baby that's finally facing serious repercussions and then circumstances make him be the pilot of the ship. and he doesn't deserve b'elanna. also he has weird lizard babies with the captain one episode. yuck."