#may i never draw another action thing ever again

[twstyuna]

Uninvited

Notes/rambling below cut.

This takes place post Book 7. I am not entirely sure I grasp the specifics of Silver's UM in the identifying dreamer with a bird sense and the logics of darkness characters and dream outfits. Just assume some kind of lucid dreaming here and roll with it if I broke canon haha.

This be one of the ghost! Skullys.

He's not keeping Yuu asleep in the Malleus sense, just helping Yuu dream of something happy since they get stress dreams and Overblot nightmares a lot. Their idea of happy is apparently their friends being fellow human schoolmates in their world and never having been isekaied. (Grim is a sassy but otherwise normal cat they own at home. It functions more like high school than college because Yuu isn't sure what a normal world college experience is like). Yuu wakes up, forgets Skully's existence and their dreams, lives the day, goes to bed, and Skully helps set up their boring slice of life dreamscape again

Overall benign but Skully's vibes are still too suspicious for Silver though lol. I think Skully would have kept the schoolmate/just a dream character guise if Silver didn't immediately try to fight him. In Silver's defense, Skully did glare.

Had this thought before I read book 7 but I like to think this is validating. From Book 7 Ch 111. Ghostly Oneiromancy go brr.

Skully's relationship with Yuu is platonic.

I think Silver's stumbled in Yuu's dreams before Skully came around but they both forgot

I think the 6 panels with Silver and Yuu are fun. Either Yuu sees Silver and greets him first or they're parallel which means Silver smiles first.

Left a little longer and Yuu might realize "Oh Silver's here" means "Oh I'm dreaming" and immediately wake up.

I imagine that Skully lived a whole life then died, but looks like a student because he really wished he could have been friends and had a fun school life with the NBC event boys . So I suppose him crashing Yuu's dreams/helping Yuu dream of a normal life may not be entirely altruistic then, but I would still like to think that is secondary to giving some comfort to the kid who was your friend lifetimes ago and who has not been having an easy time since getting spirited away to twisted wonderland

Alternative possible reasons for him looking young/relatively the same:

I do not know how to draw an older version of a character

Ghosts may be kind of immortal but their memory isn't. The Ramshackle Ghosts are blobs. Skully's painting was of him still relatively young so that's the appearance he assumes.

Actively trying to monitor Yuu in their dream and the easiest way to blend in is to just look like that so he's in their classes and such. Somewhere in Yuu's subconscious, Yuu remembers Skully being a friendly presence so there being another member in the friend group doesn't stick out.

[skay-ali]

The Forgotten Daughter

well I finally did it.

first of all merry christmas and enjoy the chapter

Dear family

This may be sudden... I don't even know why I'm writing this letter anymore, it was supposed to be about the big decision I made that would change my life, but even so I don't know why I'm leaving explanations.

My plan was always to never see you again, each of you, I still feel very hurt by everything, although I know that these words will not make a big change in you.

But enough berating them, I'm not racking my brain to find the right words for a letter full of complaints.

I was always a girl who avoided problems or at least I like to think I was, Father, brothers and my dear confidant Alfred, despite getting into big trouble.

The lights were flashing brightly, the music at full volume filled the room, it was very hot due to the sweat that all the bodies were emanating, you watched all the visitors of the club go crazy with euphoria after a few drinks and continued with a long list of crazy things, you On the contrary, you decided that it was one of those depressive days, where you spent your time seeing the bad side of everything and being miserable.

You didn't follow your friends to any of their craziness; on the contrary, you stayed in a place at the bar away from everyone, along with a few glasses full of a low-grade cherry-flavored liquor.

You still taste the light cherry flavor on your palate. There were so many liquors on the shelf, many of different sizes, appearances, names, years and strengths, you wondered if anyone ever drank them all, if there was a person who in his miserable, boring, short life provokes every liquor on the restaurant's menu. bar.

You looked away when you heard the sound of a chair being moved, you saw a man taller than yours, with a somewhat abrupt but attractive appearance. You took another sip from your glass and returned to your thoughts as you watched the people on the dance floor doing stupid things.

Or so you tried, but by discreetly observing the actions of the man near your seat, it was enough to capture your full attention, to what that guy does in his notebook with his pencil.

“What an artist,” you addressed the subject sitting one seat away from you, “what are you doing in a place as crazy as this?” You turned your gaze to the man with blue-black hair, as you watched him take a sip of his drink and draw with his pencil.

Their eyes connected when the man decided to leave his world and pay attention to your beginning of interaction, he couldn't look away in time, although you didn't blame him, you did the same before because of the curiosity you felt when he saw him, you felt like everything was coming together.

He paused, just him and you, as if the two of you were the only ones in a large room of strangers.

A smile left your lips when you saw the man's dazed attitude, he was so lost in himself that it seems that he forgot about your beginning of conversation until a moment later.

Still, you were afraid that it wasn't nerves that the man was feeling but anger or annoyance at your interaction with him.

“Even if you don't believe it, inspiration can be found in unlikely places… Or even sometimes a muse” came those calm words from his thick but reassuring and animated voice.

You were relieved to hear him speak, but those words that had no sign of annoyance or complaints.

“uhh it's like that... I only saw this place as a garbage dump full of vices” you didn't know how you were still trying to maintain an interaction with that person, perhaps prolonging the feeling of company instead of the one of loneliness sounded more attractive.

“You should look at it from other perspectives, so you'll find things like this” you saw him tear a page out of his notebook without blinking and put it on your forehead.

You were surprised to see your drawing on the paper. Every feature of yours delicately captured with each stroke of the pencil on the paper.

“wow you left me speechless for a moment” you disconnected your gaze from the sheet you had in your hands.

“You are actually a great artist” the drawing was extremely beautiful, you never considered yourself a very beautiful woman, it was common for you to see all your flaws before your best qualities, seeing that paper where you felt that in that drawing you were perfect caused you a feeling emotion and a passing confidence.

However, you couldn't get it out of your head to see yourself drawn in other ways on paper, like a cartoon or Japanese version of yourself; before this moment, you never even had the chance to sit on a bench and wait for an artist to draw you. .

“What's wrong with that face, you look disappointed, maybe you're kidding me” you heard him joke.

“No no… no… on the contrary, I really like it” you quickly defended yourself, afraid of offending the man.

“It's just that..” you felt shy when explaining your reasons, especially when he had an attentive gaze on you.

You saw his eyes wait expectantly for your words.

“You know, the drawing is beautiful, but… even though it sounds silly, I wish I could see myself more in a cartoon or comic” you laughed nervously, after your babbling.

“ahh, are you a comic book lover or something?”

“Yes, well it's something like that” you liked to read some series in comic magazines from time to time, but you preferred mangas, you hid this preference, you weren't going to receive a few words of displeasure for that or start a debate about what genre it was.

Better, much less explain what they were if I didn't know what you were referring to.

“I think I can fix that,” the guy said with an animated and funny voice.

You watched him, fascinated, by how he held his book with enthusiasm, his hands moved quickly from one side to the other on the white sheet, the pencil was handled quickly, you could tell that he had a lot of experience with the ease with which he did it.

It was a long night, between different conversations and laughter with the new guy you met, the night became more tolerable with the man by your side.

Between drinks and meaningless talks, laughter on both sides, silly dances on the floor full of people, just two fools doing the most pathetic steps they had plus some little improvised old waltzes, it ended in a new day with two sleepless but falices talking in a viewpoint of a building that showed the entire city.

Oh, father, you don't know how enchanted I was with that man I met on one of my many outings to parties, I was stupid and childish, but I still allowed myself to dream and love.

You didn't expect to meet again with such a man with whom you managed to connect, but that's how it happened, destiny somehow led them to meet.

You liked having a new person in your circle, with whom you managed to get along so well.

From talking about his work as an artist, giving his opinion on different comics and mangas that they knew, talking about animation to becoming hoarse from speaking with so much emotion and passion with long monologues.

They visited many hidden places in the big city in their days of adventures, even if they were alleys that were not very crowded, now that you think about it, such a careless action was very crazy, but the beautiful places, with new views, like an alley full of colorful fabrics and with different designs that hung over the street, the walls of a neighborhood full of drawings with different artistic techniques, but with many bright colors, the tall buildings that showed views of the entire city.

The days of movies with crazy plots, but that had you glued to the screen to see what happened next.

The rare meals from the carts or street stalls, which they consumed without problems while they sat to observe the lights of the city or the dark sky, accompanied by silence, but the two of them together.

In that moment where the two were together and talking, you felt that they were exchanging many words of great importance to both of them, but seen from other perspectives they were nothing more than insignificant.

That's what love did, right?

And all for one crazy night where you hope to go crazy on alcohol, after sinking into a self-compose for your life.

You will never be able to forget when he gave you his name and you gave him yours... well, half of it, you admit to having lied to him, even if you regretted it, you already knew the problems they would bring you later.

Well at least that's what you thought, you had no idea of ​​the true consequences.

You only thought about the fear of telling him your real last name, that he would look for you and know who you really were, you were afraid that he would see you differently, no longer a strange girl he met in a bar, but the daughter of a millionaire with a history. questionable life, the mere thought of him using you was too much.

So you avoided him by mentioning the amazing last name “Wayne” and mentioning a fake one.

More specifically, that of your false identification, something crazy that you did in your wild adolescence was left to be useful in your future, that false identification that you made with your friends from school to visit different clubs, you used it when you became independent, so that no one It will bother you in your new life.

“_____ , _____ Jones” unsurely you stated your name, you still remember when you made the false identifications with your friends and among all of them you were looking for a new name and surname for the others, you kept your name and they gave you the last name of the protagonist of the book of fashionable at the time because of the film that adapted the story.

A mental chuckle caused you to remember this along with the taunts they threw at you about where your diary was.

“Kayle, Kyle Rayner,” the boy smiled as he introduced himself.

You followed his smile, something in his ended up infecting you. Just two fools in a bar telling each other their names and being ignorantly happy.

It's a shame that that happiness ended some time later, when you never saw Kyle again. Even with a card for him to contact you, you never heard from him.

You woke up happy, in his apartment, the day after spending a night together, alone, without any sign that the man was home, without any note or notice, you waited excitedly for him to return, but he never did, even when you left a message. letter and ways for me to contact you again if the ones they already had didn't work, you never knew anything.

Maybe it was all an adventure and you got carried away... they never clarified what they were, hell maybe he didn't even consider you a friend.

But you and I know, father, that all the fairy tales one creates end quickly, most of the time in the worst ways.

I ended up with a broken heart, still, I kept good memories... and her.

I know it is late, very late, as it has been for many years, but I must confess it, because no parents and siblings would want to know it in the worst possible ways….

Alice Wayne, my dear baby….

You leaned back in your chair as you wrote the last sentence, you did it, you wrote what was overwhelming you so much, the beginning of the letter.

Your eyes burned, a few treacherous tears running down your face.

Your family, your passing love and your beloved daughter always made you sensitive.

It wasn't something you could avoid.

You leaned your head on the headboard of the chair, letting all the blood flow to your head, something strange you used to do to clear your head, you looked at the ceiling and the walls around you upside down.

You noticed the crib on the side of the room near your desk where you were writing.

You saw your baby sleeping calmly, a peaceful face with no signs of discomfort, he was an angel.

Your little angel, and your light... you knew you would do anything for her, like you did right now.

I think if we are similar in some way father.

I ended up having a daughter through carelessness like you did to me.

I need to ask you a big favor father and not only of you but also of the whole family, the biggest and most important one I will do in my life.

If something happens to me... if I end up in big trouble or I no longer exist, any situation that prevents me from taking care of my beloved daughter.

Please watch over her.

Make sure she has the best future, a happy life with everything she needs, that she can grow up as a girl full of light, that she is always kind, wise and with a loving family.

If that's not something they can give you, find someone who can give it to you.

Take care of my treasure, my only happiness, my only family... I know I left a long time ago without saying anything and returned in a hurry to their lives.

Maybe one day they will call me selfish knowing the path I took to leave little Alice to them, the decision I decided to make was not easy, but I did it because I want the best for my little light.

We are all selfish and mean, I was all my life, since I knew that my happiness only depended on me, that I was alone in this world, that only oneself can save oneself.

I think I still am by thinking that I can force them to do something about my problem, I can't force them to take care of someone or take responsibility for a short period of time, turning their lives upside down.

But maybe... with all the love and affection that you could ever see felt for me, I can make you consider helping me and fulfilling my difficult request.

Father, brothers and Alfred... I never said it because of all the anger I felt, because of everything that happened in the mansion, which devastated my thoughts with a lot of anger, forgetting everything I had and made me have a comfortable and pampered life.

Thank you.

Well, he's the father and maybe a future yandere, it's a possibility.

after an exhaustive investigation into possible characters to occupy this role in the series.

although there may be other possibilities with other characters....

Like I tried with the penguin's son, if ___ had decided to hang out more with villains and they adopted her or became her godparents.

Tag list: @kore-of-the-underworld @vanessa-boo @jsprien213 @delias-stuff @vanilliona @bat1212 @yanrandom @Quiarst @palabra de niño salvaje @el termino @leo227 @sirenethblog @ masa para galletas @blueberry19000 @con seguridad

[anyasathenaeum]

Lover (Nanami x Reader smut)

A/N:This is my first ever writing for Nanami/JJK as a whole. Please be nice about it. I felt like the Nanami lovers deserved some goodness. Do I know what I'm doing? No. Did I at least enjoy it? Yeah. Anyways, please have this... whatever this piece is. Warnings: MINORS DNI, AFAB!reader, female terms are used, mentions of penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, FOLKS).

Nanami is a quiet lover.

His expressions of love are never glorified or big, never flashy or particularly grandiose. He shows how much he loves you through the little, quiet things.

The attention to detail with each and every lunch that's sent with you to your place of work. A hand on your lower back, guiding you through crowded spaces. A moment of remembrance, bringing you a treat or a gift you'd briefly mentioned in passing. A gentle kiss to your knuckles when it's nobody but the two of you, with no prying eyes around to witness the small gesture of love intended just for you. The way his hazel eyes lock onto you and soften oh-so-slightly the second you enter his field of vision. The small ghost of a smile that plays on his lips when he sees you.

Nanami refuses to let the world intrude on the refuge that your love offers. His love is meant for you and you alone. Nobody else would or should be privy to the love he shares with and feels for you. And so, his declarations of love are quiet; little secrets that only the two of you know about and would ever be able to recognize. It takes time, but eventually, you realize that all these little actions scream those three little words that Nanami refuses to say except for in the privacy and safety of your shared home.

"I love you."

Nanami is a gentle lover.

He's seen so much sadness, horror and suffering in this world, and despite his blunt and cold exterior, Nanami does every possible thing to protect you from all the wickedness in the world. It may have claimed others, it may have torn some of his friends from him, but it will not take you from him so long as he draws breath on this earth and he would be damned if he would ever do something that hurt you.

His touch is so, so gentle for somebody so big and so strong, his fingers tracing the softest of patterns over your delicate skin with the lightest touch, taking in every bit of you. His grip, while firm, never tightens to the point of risking hurting you, such as when his large hands hold your hips down and your thighs apart as he uses his tongue to draw the most beautiful sounds from your lips.

"K-Kento, I-... I'm gonna cum.."

You mewl and whine as Nanami continues to use his tongue to drive you closer and closer to your orgasm, his nose rubbing oh-so-gently against your clit with every movement and a hint of a smirk on his lips as his tongue delves deep into your pussy, relishing your taste and the feeling of you squirming from the pleasure he's giving you.

"That's it, my love. Cum for me."

His low voice sends shivers down your back every time, causing your grip on his blonde hair to tighten as he pulls yet another orgasm from you, the overwhelming waves of pleasure coursing through you. His hazel eyes never leave you as he continues to lick your pussy and suck gently on your clit, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible until your body finally relaxes. Once you've recovered, Nanami's kissing you with as much love and care as he can muster, the taste of your slick on his tongue making you wet all over again and the seemingly endless ache for him in your core returns immediately, making you squeeze your thighs together. Of course, nothing escapes Nanami's notice, a rumble of a chuckle escaping him at the sight of your neediness.

"That's my girl."

Nanami is a tender lover.

With every thrust to the hilt inside you, through the haze of his pleasure, Nanami still ensures to treasure you for every moment he spends with you, inside you. You're carefully encased in his arms, tucked almost protectively beneath him as he presses his lips against yours, his cock filling you and stretching you deliciously with each and every stroke.

Soft grunts and growls slip from his lips as he fucks you with surprising tenderness, his gaze often drifting to where the two of you are joined so he can watch himself sink his cock into you over and over again, claiming your body in ways nobody else ever would. His fingers often intertwine with yours against the mattress or pull your hips ever closer to his own, allowing him to thrust into you even deeper.

The sudden, loud moan that escapes you as he angles your hips lets Nanami know that his cock has found the perfect spongy spot inside you, making you see stars as his thrusts increase in speed and intensity.

"K-Kento! Lo-love you! Love you, Kento! Kento, please!"

You can't control the words slipping from your lips as Nanami continues to sink his cock deep into you, never once failing to hit that spot deep inside you. The pleasure you feel is too overwhelming, your words escaping you without a thought and without hesitation as yet another orgasm washes over you, your cunt fluttering and spasming around him. The feeling is so intense that he needs to stop his thrusts in order not to fill you up then and there.

You whine when Nanami suddenly pulls out, a frown on your lips as you gaze up at him hazily.

"You didn't cum, Kento. Why'd you stop?"

The smile he gives you in return makes your heart flip in your chest - his expression is one of pure peace and adoration, the tenderness and affection he feels for you evident in his eyes as he takes everything about you in as you lay beneath him. He doesn't answer you, instead just leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. However, unlike before, this kiss isn't hungry or desperate, but rather gentle and soft and oh-so loving, and you faintly realize that Nanami is cherishing you, your body, your very existence in this moment.

He holds you close to him for a little while, giving you some time to recover before slipping his cock back inside you and beginning his thrusts once more, pulling more beautiful sounds from your lips and more soft moans escaping him as he works you towards yet another orgasm. This time, however, he doesn't slow as you cum once again, your pleasure driving him over the edge with you. A low groan escapes Nanami as he buries himself inside you to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he spills himself deep inside you, his seed coating your walls.

'Where it's meant to be,' Nanami thinks to himself, never saying the words aloud.

As he collapses next to you in the bed, Nanami doesn't hesitate to pull you into his arms, both of you panting from your exertions. He holds you close once again, saying nothing for a while and instead just watching you as you curl up against him, his heart aching for love of you as you press your cheek against his bare chest and wrap your arms around his much larger form. This time, before you can so much as begin to form any words, Nanami leans his head down, his lips by your ear as he whispers those three little words to you softly.

"I love you, (Y/N). Never doubt that."

Nanami is a lover. And his love belongs solely to you.

[vetteltea]

Green Eyes [CL16 Ending]

Those green eyes. The ones you had married.

Charles visibly breathes out when he sees you, sitting up, blinking towards him. He wants to rush to you, to cradle you in his arms and tell you to your face how much he loves you, cherishes you more than anything else the universe has ever or will ever create.

The moment is more visualized in his head. In reality, Charles’ knees buckle, crouching by the door, tears flowing freely from his eyes. The flowers he had picked up from the giftshop are still in his grasp, almost on the floor as he tries to compose himself, to make his legs strong again. 

“Charles.” You speak softly. “It’s okay.” 

That seems to be enough to draw him further, to stand him up and get to her bedside, placing himself in the plastic chair, hands abandoning the bouquet of flowers and holding your face, a hand pressed to either of your cheeks as the tears pool around his lower lash line. His breathing is erratic, he’s scared. It’s like you’ll be pulled away from him at any moment, he doesn't want that. He cannot have that. 

“Are you okay? Are you okay? Are you still hurt?” His mind can’t catch up with his mouth, a barrage of questions which will surely send him into a spiral. Your heart is racing, you were certain if connected to a monitor, they would think you’re spinning out of control. This time, your actions overtake you, resting a hand on either side of Charles’ rambling face and pulling him to mesh your lips together.

This time, you kiss Charles Leclerc. 

His words immediately cease, a tiny whine leaving his lips as he presses back against you, hands freezing on your face and pulling you closer. He tells himself that if he lets go, you’ll be gone. You’ll stop kissing him. 

The idea of somebody else, of Carlos, is immediately wiped from your mind. He’s not Charles. He’s not your husband. 

Eventually, you have to for the sole reason that you need air. You gently remove yourself, foreheads pressing against one another, the only sounds radiating around the room being the soft catch of breath from yourself and your husband’s racing heartbeat. 

“I’m okay.” You whisper. The quietness sounds unusual, clearing your throat and trying again. “They said it’s a precaution. Dehydration, Stress, that sort of-” 

“-Stress?” Charles cuts you off. The guilt begins to settle in his stomach. Stress. Following him around each weekend. Stress. Wondering whether he’s going to come home to you each and every night. He was the one who had- who was-

“I’m sorry.” Charles murmurs, he’s not able to form his sentences properly. Your mind isn’t configuring correctly, convinced he’s still talking about not being there when you had been taken to hospital, about your current health. You don’t think as you shrug, letting him apologize before you start to speak again.

“Charles. It’s okay. You were in media with Joris-”

“Merde. No, that isn’t what I'm apologizing for.” He freezes, the pregnant pause in the room only growing by the moment. Is he really going to do this? Right here, right now. His wife- your eyes are wide, waiting for him to continue speaking. 

When your hand reaches out to overlay his, he feels the fingers, the lack of your cool wedding band on your ring finger, instead it rests in his pocket. It’s as if your contact has flipped a switch, remoting him to continue speaking. 

“I’m sorry.” He pauses, making sure you didn’t interrupt with an immediate acceptance. “I’m sorry for what I’ve made you go through for the past year.” His second hand rests atop of yours, he’s so cold, it sends a shiver through your arms. “I didn’t want to be married, I didn’t want to be settled but…it was for the best. It was for my career. I never- I never thought about how you must have felt the same way.”

He’s correct; when you had been told by your father of the arrangement, it was the last thing you had ever desired. Being married to a Formula One driver may have been a dream, but not at the expense of finding love. 

“I didn’t give you a chance. You looked-” He pauses changing the past tense. “You look after me. On my best and worst days, you were there. And what did I do? I kept pushing you away, pushing myself towards women who were not my wife.” 

“Charles.” You try to speak, images of his mistress flickering through your mind. “You loved her-”

“-I didn’t love her.” It was true. “I desired her. She was something which reminded me of when I was single. I kept…I wanted to hold onto what I had previously been, that I was single, fun and free.”

You shrug, looking down to where his hands interlocked over your own, careful not to nudge or injure you. “Charles, I get it. It was an arranged marriage, I never should have caught feelings. Not when-”

“I’m not finished.” Charles shakes his head, smiling now. “You were there. You stayed there, you were always there with a kind word and a warm heart. And the entire time that you were there…I ignored it.” He shakes his head. “And it took me so long to realize that what I wanted was a marriage.“ 

“It took-” You pause, you’re not able to be cruel. Your husband isn’t stupid, he knows what you were about to say. 

“-It took him. Yes.” He pauses. “To realize that all I want is you. That all I want is to come home to your arms, to take you for dinner at all the places I should have. To take you for boat rides and tell you how beautiful you look with wet hair and that perfect grin.” 

By this point, your mouth hangs ajar, your heart swelling. He’d never spoken so…honestly to you before. Eyes flicker down to his fingers, how they reach around for his right-hand pocket, sliding out a pocket square, the blue fabric which was ever-present at your wedding all those months ago. 

“I know you will never be able to forgive me for what I did.” He lets the fabric fall away, revealing your own wedding band. Immediately, your eyes snap down to your fingers, only just realizing that the ring had been removed. It wasn’t uncommon; after the six month mark, you had only worn the ring when appearing in public. Even now, it rests away from your finger, instead in your husband’s grasp.

“You can tell me to go right now.” His tone has raised, he’s clearly terrified that is what you’ll want. “I’ll go. You can have the house, the cars, everything. You’ll never see me again and I promise that.” Tears are pooling at his eyes again and you feel your stomach drop. He doesn't want that, of course he does not, but the fact he’s willing to let you go if it will make you happy burns through your heart. 

“But.” He lifts the ring, holding it just over your hand, letting the glistening band reflect across the hospital lights. “I want you to stay. I want to stay with you.” He sighs, his shoulders still so tense. “I promise you. I will do everything in my power to make you happy, to make you feel loved forever. I- I love you.” 

Your heart skyrockets; if it was possible for an organ to spontaneously combust and heal itself in a split second, you were certain it had happened to you. Your husband lifts the ring further, taking your left hand in his own, eyes still full of hope, of tears, of love. 

“Will you marry me, again?” His voice is so quiet. You’re so overwhelmed. “We can do it again. Our wedding. Just us, whatever we want.” It flickers through your mind; somewhere quiet, intimate. A soft white dress that is completely different from your original; rings slid onto one another's' fingers as you promised love all over again. But this time, it could be real. He would look you in the eye to say it, not off to the side, clearly refuting his role in the deal. 

This time, he looks into your eyes. 

“I promise.” 

This time, you can’t hold back the tears in your own eyes, nodding as the ring is slid back onto your finger. You can’t describe it, the way the cool band belongs there, it’s a part of you. 

No. The man sliding the finger onto your finger is the part of you. Wordlessly, Charles pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to every inch of your face, soft lips caressing each part, letting your head fall to his shoulder, breathing synchronized as a hand trails up your back, keeping his wife oh-so-close to him. 

“Let’s go back to the house.” He murmurs. “Let’s go back home.”

[the-midnight-blooms]

SINCERELY, YOURS | jyh

pairing: husband!jeong yunho x wife!reader AU: hanahaki au word count: 2.4k ATEEZ as angst tropes series: Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung | Jongho

masterlist

Trope: Unrequited Love 

Dear Yunho,

I hope this letter find you well, whether you open it now or decades later when you sit at my grave. Perhaps you’ve married again, and another child sits in your arms- I'll never truly know how much I mean to you.

Whoever had said falling in love was a blessing had clearly never fallen in love with the wrong person in their life. Such an astute claim that was. Falling in love was one the worst things that could have ever happened to me, especially since the deadly case of Hanahaki was up for grabs.

I will not sugar-coat it, I love you as dearly as if you are mine. I love you as if I can have you. I love you as if I am entitled to you. I always have, and will until I am torn apart by this wretched illness.

Perhaps she had acted too resistant in the face of love. Acting like it was a sin for women on a dark path, yet at night she dreamed that in the dead of a void her lover would crawl to her and ensnare her in his arms. Pepper her with gentle kisses and unbroken stares. Perhaps that was the reason why Yunho had first been warded away from her, taking on many lovers. Always rushing back to her to tell her how perfect each woman was, how he cherished them, fixing onto their smile, their eyes, their beauty unparalleled. There was something about them that made his heart swoon and something about her that rebuked him.

“Then who will hold you at night, when you are so lonely that you cannot even comfort yourself?” He asked her one evening, sat under a great oak tree heads on each other shoulders; the action itself burning her heart- how she wished he wanted her the same way she wanted him. You. Will you not hold me? Will you not shield from the terrors of this world that I am so frightened against?

He had come to her in the torpidity of the night, finally, heart yearning as he realised that where he should have spoken aloud his lovers name, he said hers. Where his lover should have been soaring through his dreams, carrying his child, plastering kisses all over his face, running down the sand on the crust of the roaring sea; it was her.

"Yunho? What's wrong?" With watery eyes he stared down at her, body wracking with sobs.

"It's you. You're all I have ever wanted."

Who should I blame for being so devoted to you? I can’t blame myself, I’m sorry. It hurts too much and already the bronchi of my lungs have been replaced with the sturdy branches of a willow tree. Flowers now bloom on the membrane of cells, tissues all compressed between saccharine petals. You may laugh at my poetry but you adored it once. After all, once our souls were bound in holy matrimony, did I not gift you a poem every anniversary? Did you not read those words aloud me under the cover of the night, as if it was your soul speaking to me and not I?

An ecru, vintage radio sat perched upon the wooden worktop, in an equally old kitchen on the outskirts of the country. Just two miles below, down the grassy hilltop lead to the sea-the rush of the tides blanketing the sand, drawing it towards the deep. Delicate waves enveloped each other, producing a cacophony of sounds that drowned out the hum of the radio. The humidity of the kitchen suffocated her, as the flames of the oven whispered to the baked good blemishing it with a golden-brown that would soon prompt her to pull it from the rack. Wandering to the front porch, she followed her lover's figure saunter up the hill-his pace increasing as she opened her arms out for him. Swooping her up from the ground, he spun her around in the air-his tight grip central around her waist. A shriek escaped from her lips as he did so. Gently, he put her down, the couple laughing synchronously as she dragged him into the kitchen. Flopping down onto the chair, Yunho went straight to the radio-sitting on top of the worktop, fiddling with its button an array of tunes inbounding the pale kitchen walls. Settling upon a popular Latin song, he got off the countertop- beginning to sway his hips to the music. When his movements became much more faster and fluid, she could not help but erupt in a fit of laughter. He reached out for her hands, enamouring her hands within his.

"You know I can't dance." He laughed, recalling the memory where she almost tripped on her wedding dress in front of a crowd of people gawking at them during the first dance. Turning the dial, he rested his hands on her waist gazing down at her. Resting her chin on his chest she peered up at him with her own doe eyes. Remaining in each other arms as the world swept by, wind rushing in from the window lace curtain fluttering in the breeze. A sweet smell drove out from the oven, she hastily pried herself from his embrace grabbing the tea towel.

"What have you got in the oven?" he pondered, as she went to her knees opening the oven door. A small smirk formed on her lips. He looked over her shoulder. "Buns?" Holding back giggles, she composed herself before looking up at him with a deadpan face nodding dubiously.

"Interesting choice. I thought you were baking a cake. Never mind, these are nice." He rambled as she flipped over the buns onto the wire rack, leaving them to cool. "How long were they in the oven for?" He winced slightly as he tried to reach for one, sharply retracting his hand away as the hot surface lacerated his finger.

"About four-five weeks." He gave her a confused look, as she turned around meandering to the living room. Five weeks? He looked back at the buns. He knew croissants often took three days to make, but five weeks for buns? As if a switch had flicked in his head, he stuck his head in the living room doorway.

"We have a bun in the oven?" Nodding, he swept her off the floor like a bride, spinning her around in his arms as if she weighed nothing to him. "WE HAVE A BUN IN THE OVEN!"

You may have once told me you adored me, but you no longer do now.

She recalled staring down at the loose petal of a bright pink dicentra flower in her fingers, blood splattered across the crystal white sink in her bathroom. A strangling sensation fulfilled her throat, slumping onto the lid of the toilet seat. Beads of sweat formed across her forehead, the cogs in her brain stopping for a split second as fatigue gnawed at her. The pounding on the bathroom door startled her, shoving the pink petal in her pocket- she opened the tap using her fingers to scrub away the splatter of her blood that remained on the sink. Looking down she found her niece peering up at her with her wide eyes and an innocent face, her little lips lightly gaped as she took in her auntie's dishevelled state. Lifting up her niece in her arms, she pecked her chubby cheeks a giggle eructed from her as she walked into her bedroom. Yunho sat on the edge of the bed, taking off his work tie a sheepish smile of his face. Nari's short arms held out for her uncle, in a disinterested manner Yunho took her from his wife's hold, lazily entertaining his niece.

"You could at least pretend to be happy when you play with Nari." His wife taunted, late at night in a hushed tone as her niece fell into a deep slumber.

"She's not my child, I don't see why." A loud thud echoed in the room as he dropped his phone onto the night stand.

"Yunho." she snapped, eyebrows furrowed in anger. He never was like this, something had happened after her miscarriage. Like a lever had been pulled, refiguring his kind-hearted nature into a malicious monster. It struck her heart with fear, that now that she could not give him a child-he longer wanted her. "She is still a baby, how would you like it if someone did that to your child?"

"I wouldn't know. I don't have one, do I?" As if a blow had been struck against her, she rolled her body in the opposite direction, in the bed, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. Why are you holding it against me? She wanted to say. A deep sigh escaped from his lips, he indolently patted his wife's shoulder as if it would compensate for the damage ensued by his apathy. Erupting in a harsh fit of coughs, a current of petals flew from her mouth blessing the earth beneath.

To ask me stop loving you is like asking for the earth to stop orbiting the sun. To ask me is to tell me to stop breathing. Oh my darling, my lover divine, I wish I could. No matter what I do, you won’t love me back. So I plead of you to acknowledge my suffering. To know that others may blame you for the way you taunted me. Because I never meant anything more to you than someone to fill your lonely nights when nobody else wanted you.

Over the subsequent months, her health had deteriorated significantly which had not gone unnoticed by her husband. Her eyes had sunken into its pockets, painted by dark circles highlighting the restless nights where the pain denied her sleep.

"You never told me what the doctor said." Nailing her eyes to the chopping board, the knife cut fluently down at the fruit sweeping it up in a plastic container. She hadn't told Yunho, it was Hanahaki. Neither could she forget the pitying look in the doctor's eyes when she revealed it to her. A married woman suffering from Hanahaki? Just how cruel could the world get?

"They're just running some blood tests. They haven't got back to me on the results, it's probably nothing. If it was important they would have called me." Yunho frowned, as he put his lunchbox in his bag. Walking with him to the foyer, he kissed her forehead before leaving to walk to his car parked on the drive way. The pain in her chest alleviated but not so much that she did not sink to knees when the car pulled out from the driveway heaving for air as she felt her lungs being pierced by the abrasive bark of a tree.

Where petals had drifted out of her mouth, flowers now bloomed. For one evening, Yunho came back home from work finding his wife draped over their shared bed- lips shrouded with petals. flowers at her neck. Concerned he shook her awake, with bleary eyes she sat up fingers pressing into her temples. Lifting up the petals with his slender fingers, he stared at her with a questioning look he only hoped she'd catch. Though no words had left her, she did not know what to say. He was not supposed to find out like this.

"I have Hanahaki disease, Yunho." she breathed out, her coarse voice prescient. An spectral silence befell amongst the couple, what else was there to say? The situation spoke for itself. "I just want to know, at what point in our lives did you stop loving me?"

“I didn’t know that I had fallen out of in love with you, because I still feel comfort when you’re there." He spoke slowly, a desperate attempt at piecing together the right words as he tried to come to terms with the fact he was the one who had caused her poor condition. "Sometimes I only feel myself entitled to breath when I look at you.” As if that was the cure, a declaration of love-those menial words that had put her in this position in the first place.

“Then why am I dying? Why is this disease tearing me apart? You’re killing me, Yunho.”

“Don’t say that.” He shook his head profusely, tears brimming at the front of his perfect eyes. "Don't say that, please." Her husband begged, pressing his palm to his lips to prevent the grievous dissonance of his sobbing.

“What else would you like me to say? That I am the disloyal one? And I am in love with another who cannot love me back? Be fucking realistic, I have been in love with you a lot longer than you have been in love with me.” Her body trembled with the cold, her own tears streaming down her cheeks. She didn't try to hold back the distressing sound as he had. Leaning her head back on the headboard. "What about me disgusted you? What about me made me so unworthy of your love?"

"I wanted a child." Grabbing the pillow, she plundered it against his head as hard as she could. Lunging at him, the collar of his shirt balled up into fists, his slender body oscillating back and forth as she screamed out her soul.

"It's not my fault I cannot conceive! If you had known that before marriage would you have never married me? Would you have never loved me? Is that all a woman means to you? A machine to give birth, or an object to satisfy your desires?" Letting go off his shirt, she subsided into the silk pillows bawling to her heart's content. "Leave Yunho." His breath hitched in his throat. Soundlessly, he got up from the bed trudging towards the doorway, glistening pearls dropping from his porcelain face. He stopped, turning around with a pleading look.

"Leave and if you come back to me- tell me it is because you love me. So much so that it is the ailment to this disease.”

When you did not come back to tell me you loved me, it almost certified the fact that you really had fallen out of in love with me. Perhaps it is better to die than to live a life of solitude, for every day I live I can feel my heart rupturing at the mere sight of you. I wish you find someone to love as much as I love you.

So, one last time before the Angel of Death takes my breath away and draws my soul out of my body: I love you, Jeong Yunho. I love you so much that I have died in your name. I love you so much that if I was given a choice to relive this life again, I would. No matter the pain, no matter the heartache, I would live this life again. All for you.

Sincerely, Yours.

All Rights Reserved © the-midnight-blooms

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, REPURPOSE, OR PLAGISRISE ANY OF THE WORK HERE

A/N: i feel like yunho + unrequited love is such a fitting trope for him? Yunho doing the salsa literally came from me and @n0v4t33z talking about how his hips don't lie. ALSO AS A BRIT BUNS ARE CUPCAKES!! when i first heard about 'bun in the oven' i didn't know it was a teacake (burger bun), but i made it one for this fic.

let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for any future fics I post!

[yanagikou]

A Day to Gamble

DISCLAIMER: Another smutty creation done by my other half (the fic, not the drawing) and part 1 of ??? in the "Kate x Jack" series :D Both characters belong to my hubby, I only borrow them for my drawings :3

pairing: Imperial guard on guard action.

warning: see above. It's smut (NSFW), with a thin layer of a plot thrown on top of it. MDNI! Some typos may still lurk around. If you find one, adopt the poor sucker.

Wordcount: 4952

------

Life as an imperial guardsman is easy—if one arrives in a warzone a year too late. Bureaucratic error, warp travel discrepancies, or simple Administratum oversight had dumped the 121st Korvin Rifles onto a planet where the war had already ended. What remained was a smouldering ruin of hive spires, half-collapsed Manufactorums, and endless lists of menial tasks. Jack, like many in his regiment, had nothing to do.

Well, nothing to do was a bit of a stretch. Training was still mandatory, but even the most creative officers and drill sergeants could only come up with so many variations of the same battle drills before they, too, got bored. Even the regiment's Commissar—usually a hawk-eyed enforcer of discipline—seemed to have lost some of her usual fervour. The best part? As far as Jack could tell, the Administratum had seemingly forgotten about them. No new orders. No redeployment notices. No reminders that they even existed.

In some strange way, it was the closest thing to a vacation a guardsman could ever hope for.

"Oi, Jack. You up for a round of Death or Bless?"

Jack turned his head just as Kate popped up next to his bunk. She had to jump onto a ration crate just to reach his top bunk—something that never failed to amuse him. At barely five feet, she was one of the smallest in the platoon, but she made up for what she lacked in stature in sheer presence. Sharp features, large, ever-curious eyes, and a lean, athletic build sculpted by years of military service. She was a rare sight in the Astra Militarum: beautiful, full of life, and still capable of being amazed by the galaxy around her.

Jack had often entertained the thought of something more between them. But the reality of it stopped him. The Commissar would definitely have them flogged if she suspected anything unprofessional. And even if they could get away with it, what would happen when they got deployed again? When life expectancy dropped to weeks or even days? No, bad idea. Better to keep things simple.

"Nah, I'm good," Jack muttered, avoiding her gaze.

"Frak's sake, no one's in the mood," she groaned. He could already picture her pouting face. "Come on, Jack!"

"Nope. Last time, the Commissar nearly caught us, and I'm already on thin ice for 'acquiring' that contraband Amasec for the squad."

Kate smirked at that, then leaned in conspiratorially. "I know a place—no one will find us there. And I learned a new game."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Where?"

"You know how one of the servitors broke down while cleaning the ventilation shafts?" she whispered. "Turns out they forgot to seal it back up. I went looking, and there's a room inside the vents big enough to park a Chimera."

Jack scoffed. "A room in the vents? That's groxshit."

"No, really! Join me, and I'll prove it," she insisted, grinning.

Jack hesitated. But then he made the mistake of looking into her eyes, brimming with mischief and challenge. He felt weak. So damn weak.

"Fine," he sighed. "But if you're lying, you take my latrine duty for a week."

"Deal!" she chirped, practically bouncing off the crate. "Come on!"

Jack rolled out of his bunk, closed some buttons on his uniform and checked the sidearm holstered at his belt. He didn't know what he expected to find in that so-called 'vent room'—but deep down, something told him this was going to be far more interesting than just another card game.

***

Jack followed Kate through the dim corridors of the hab block, their boots barely making a sound against the metal flooring. The maintenance corridor she led him to was mostly deserted, save for the occasional tech-priest or servitor shuffling about their inscrutable tasks. A few crew members passed by, their expressions hollow with the thousand-yard stare of those who didn’t know what to do, when there was no war.

Kate waited for the right moment, then with practised ease, she pried open a loose ventilation grate and slipped inside.

Jack hesitated for a moment, throwing a glance back down the hallway. The Imperium had strict regulations about unauthorised access to maintenance shafts—anyone caught snooping around places they weren't supposed to be could easily be accused of sabotage. But still, curiosity, and Kate's undeniable charm, won out. He ducked inside, carefully pulling the grate back into place behind him.

The vents were tight, forcing them to crawl single-file. The passage was barely illuminated, the only light coming from the occasional dim lumen strips bolted to the walls. It was an oppressive space filled with the lingering scent of dust, metal, and machine oil.

Yet, all became a distant memory once Jack realised what he had in front of him: a view he had only been dreaming of so far.

The standard-issue fabric of Kate´s trousers, stretched taut over her hips and thighs, outlined every subtle curve with merciless precision. The swell of her buttocks pressed against the material as she moved, the snug fit accentuating their perfect roundness. With each slow crawl forward, the muscles in her legs flexed, her inner thighs straining against the fabric as she pushed herself onward. The faintest outline of her most intimate curves teased against the snug, war-worn cloth, sending a traitorous heat coursing through Jack's veins.

His breath hitched as his fingers curled slightly against the metal floor, fighting the urge to let his gaze linger too long. It was torture—pure, exquisite torture—to be trapped behind her in such close quarters, to watch as her body shifted with unconscious grace, oblivious to the effect it had on him.

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus, but the temptation was overwhelming. The way her hips rolled slightly with each movement, the way the fabric of her trousers clung to her thighs as they pressed together, it was a sight so maddeningly distracting that even the Emperor's sternest sermon on purity wouldn't have been enough to quell the thoughts creeping into his mind.

Jack swallowed hard, his pulse pounding in his ears. He was a soldier of the Astra Militarum, trained to withstand war, fear, and even the horrors of the Warp. But right now, this was the greatest test of discipline he had ever faced.

Throne, get it together, Jack scolded himself, forcing his eyes away.

"We're nearly there, just around the bend," Kate whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the ventilation systems.

Jack nodded, willing his mind back to more appropriate matters—like why an entire room was supposedly hidden in the vents.

Kate led him around a sharp corner, and suddenly, the cramped metal shaft opened up into a concealed chamber.

Jack blinked in surprise. The room was far larger than he had expected—big enough to hold their entire squad and still have space to spare. Makeshift furniture had been arranged within: a table, several scavenged chairs, and even a few lumen strips that had been jury-rigged into the walls. Cables ran from exposed conduits, powering the lights and creating a dim but functional glow. Someone had clearly spent time setting this place up.

"What do you think?" Kate asked, stepping into the centre of the room with a proud grin, arms wide as she took in the space around her. "I made some improvements—figured we needed a place where the squad could meet up without brass breathing down our necks."

Jack whistled. "I'll admit, I didn't believe you. But this… this is impressive."

Kate smirked. "Told you. Now, take a seat—I even managed to save some of your stash."

Jack raised an eyebrow as she disappeared behind a stack of crates. "You did? I thought the Commissar confiscated all of it."

Kate reappeared, holding a dusty bottle of Amasec and two dented tin cups. "Nope. Turns out I'm sneakier than you give me credit for."

Jack let out a short laugh, taking a seat as she filled both cups to the brim.

Kate lifted hers in a mock toast before downing the entire thing in one go. She exhaled sharply, shaking her head as the alcohol burned its way down. "Throne, that's good. Best one you've 'acquired' so far, Jack."

Jack took his own cup and sipped more cautiously. The Amasec was strong, warming his chest instantly. He leaned back, watching as Kate poured herself another.

A part of him was still processing just how much effort she had put into setting this up. He had always known her to be bold, but this? This was something else.

And if she was this good at sneaking things past him… what else was she hiding?

Jack sank into his chair, not being outdone by Kate he too decided to downing his drink in one swift motion. This second more fecund burn of the alcohol was welcome—anything to clear his mind of the lingering heat from their crawl through the vents. But even as the fire settled in his chest, the image of Kate's perfectly sculpted rear, framed so exquisitely by her fatigues, remained seared into his thoughts.

He exhaled, setting the cup down with a dull clink against the table. Focus.

"So, what are we playing?" Jack asked as Kate casually refilled his cup, her fingers lingering on the rim for just a second too long.

"A game I heard about and wanted to try," she said, her lips curling into a smirk. "You draw two cards. Closest to twenty-one wins. You can either discard one and draw another or throw both away and take a fresh hand—but only once."

Jack nodded. "Easy enough—"

She leaned in slightly, her voice dipping into something more playful. "However… if you lose, the winner gets to claim something of yours." Her grin turned downright mischievous.

Jack chuckled. "Damn. Good thing I left most of my valuables back in the barracks."

Kate shrugged, swirling the amber liquid in her cup. "It's just a test round anyway. So, let's keep it simple—we can only bet what we have on us." She reached down, unhooking a sheathed dagger from her belt and setting it on the table. It was a fine piece, its blade engraved with intricate markings, likely a personal keepsake.

Jack whistled. "That's a nice knife."

"And what about you?" Kate raised an eyebrow.

Jack tapped the holster on his hip. "Las-pistol good enough?"

She grinned. "Sounds good. Let's play."

They each drew their cards, counting in silence. Kate glanced at her hand, then tossed one card aside, drawing another with a confident smirk. Jack, however, frowned at his. Six? Not enough. He discarded his entire hand and drew fresh cards. Lady Luck favoured him—twenty-one, dead on. His face remained unreadable, years of card-playing discipline kicking in.

"Three… two… one!" Kate announced, flipping her hand.

Nineteen. Not good enough.

Jack revealed his own, flashing the perfect twenty-one with a knowing smile.

"Frak!" Kate cursed, knocking back another sip. She picked up the dagger, twirling it in her hands before sliding it across the table toward him. "Again! This time, you choose the stakes."

Jack eyed her thoughtfully, letting his gaze flicker over her. The game had barely begun, and already, a certain tension lingered in the air. He leaned forward slightly, smirking. "Your jacket. For your dagger."

Kate hesitated, just for a second, before grinning. "Deal."

The game continued. Round after round, the Amasec flowed, and Kate's luck remained stubbornly against her. Jack, however, played with a seasoned gambler's cold, calculating patience.

Her jacket was the first to go, revealing the snug-fitting undershirt beneath. Then, her boots left her in just her socks. Then, her belt. By the time her socks were forfeited as well, she had slumped slightly in her chair, the booze clearly working through her system.

Jack wasn't exactly sober himself. His limbs were pleasantly loose, his mind buzzing with warmth—but even through the haze of alcohol, he couldn't help but enjoy this little game of theirs. Kate, ever the stubborn fighter, refused to admit defeat, and her competitive streak only fuelled the tension between them.

She refilled her cup again, cheeks flushed—not just from the drink but something more profound.

Jack leaned back in his chair, watching her with amusement. "Still feeling lucky?"

Kate smirked, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face. "I never back down from a challenge."

Jack's gaze flickered downward. She was running out of things to bet. And judging by the way her pupils were slightly dilated, she knew it too.

Jack hesitated, gripping his cup as he tried to steady his thoughts. The room felt warmer now, though he wasn't sure whether it was the alcohol or the sight before him.

"So, what do you want to bet next?" Kate asked, her voice laced with defiance and a playful challenge. A mischievous smirk danced on her lips, her confidence undeterred despite her losing streak. "Sooner or later, I have to win something! And believe me, when I do, I'll take everything from you." She let out a soft, husky laugh.

Jack leaned forward, mirroring her grin. "Well, if you're that eager—your shirt is next."

Kate raised a brow, then shrugged, her smirk never faltering. "Fine by me! This time, I know I'll win."

She didn't.

"Throne, damn it!" Kate groaned, slamming her cards on the table. "How in the frak are you doing this?"

Jack chuckled, feeling the heat rise in his chest, ”no idea. But I do know that your shirt belongs to me now."

Kate exhaled sharply, rolling her eyes. "Fine."

She stood up, gripping the hem of her tank top, and in one slow, deliberate motion, she began to lift it. Jack's breath caught in his throat as more of her skin was revealed—taut and toned from years of military training, a body sculpted for battle but still carrying a natural, effortless allure.

The fabric rose higher, revealing the curve of her waist and the smooth plane of her stomach. Jack's fingers dug into his thigh as he watched, captivated by the slow unveiling. Then, as the tank top reached her chest, he saw it—the slightest glimpse of what had been hidden beneath.

Her bra was the standard-issue kind, designed by the Ministorum for practicality, meant to compress and provide support for combat. Yet, despite its utilitarian nature, the way it hugged her curves only emphasised what lay beneath. The firm swell of her breasts pressed against the tight material, their fullness undeniable. They were perfectly shaped—large enough to fit in his palms yet not excessive, the kind that made a man ache to touch, to explore.

Jack swallowed, his throat dry.

Kate tugged the rest of the top off and tossed it onto the table. Her movements were casual as if stripping down in a hidden maintenance room with a squad mate meant nothing to her. Well to it shouldn’t, and Jack knew this, shared training, quarters and showers left her most of the time the same as she was now. But this time it was different. Maybe, it was the alcohol speaking to him or maybe it is the fact that they were alone, away from everyone else.

She sat back down, her exposed shoulders and collarbones glistening faintly under the dim lighting, her chest rising and falling in steady, unbothered breaths.

Jack, on the other hand, was not steady.

"Happy?" Kate smirked, leaning back slightly, seemingly unfazed by how his eyes struggled to focus on her face.

"Yes—I mean," Jack coughed, trying to regain control, "one more game?"

Kate chuckled, stretching her arms over her head, the movement making her breasts press more firmly against the tight confines of her bra. "Throne, yes. I will win this time."

Jack took another sip of Amasec, hoping it would cool the fire burning in his gut.

"What's next?" Kate asked, twirling a card between her fingers.

He hesitated, then smirked. "Your trousers and socks."

Kate blinked, then grinned wickedly. "Against?"

Jack considered, then offered, "My trousers."

Kate pouted, crossing her arms under her chest—a movement that only emphasised her curves. "Hey, that's one for two!"

Jack shrugged. "Fine, then name something else."

Kate bit her lip, clearly hazy from the alcohol, thinking. Finally, she let out a resigned sigh. "A trophy."

Jack narrowed his eyes playfully. "A trophy?"

Kate smirked. "If I win, you have to go back to the barracks and publicly admit I beat you in a card game."

Jack chuckled, shaking his head. "Fine. But if I win… I take your trousers and bra."

Kate's smirk faltered for just a moment before she rolled her eyes. "Frak you, Jack," she muttered. But she had backed herself into a corner—she had nothing else to bet.

"Deal?" Jack pressed.

Kate hesitated for a second longer before sighing. "Fine. But if you cheat, I swear I'll stab you."

The next game began, tension mounting with every turn of a card. The flickering light overhead cast shadows across the table, and the only sounds were the shuffle of cards and the faint sound of the ship's systems. Jack's heart pounded—not from nerves but from sheer anticipation.

Kate drew her hand, her brow furrowing as she calculated. Jack already knew that her fate was sealed—another perfect draw.

"Three… two… one!"

They both revealed their cards.

Kate stared. Then groaned, throwing her head back. "For frak's sake, Jack! You must be cheating!"

Jack only smirked. "Nope. You are just bad at this."

Kate huffed, grabbing her cup and downing the rest of her drink in frustration. "I thought this would be the game I'd finally beat you at…"

"Well, losers still need to pay up."

Kate exhaled sharply, standing up in defeat.

Jack watched as her fingers moved to the button of her fatigues. He shouldn't be staring. He knew he shouldn't. But the way she hesitated before slowly undoing the fastenings—dragging out the moment—sent a fresh wave of heat flooding through him and down between his legs.

She hooked her thumbs into the waistband and pulled, the fabric sliding over her hips, revealing inch by inch of smooth, toned skin. Then, lower, revealing the black underwear stretched over her form, hugging the curves of her ass, accentuating the sculpted shape of her thighs.

She stepped out of the discarded fabric, her movements slightly unsteady from the alcohol. They both laughed softly as she nearly lost her balance. Then, with far less hesitation than before, she reached for her bra.

Jack's breath hitched. His groin in flames.

She grasped the edges and pulled up—her breasts spilling free from the restrictive fabric, bouncing ever so slightly as they settled naturally against her chest.

Jack stared, his mind blank, his body betraying him as his trousers grew uncomfortably tight.

They were perfect. Round, perky, the kind of breasts that made men fall to their knees. Her nipples were a soft, delicate pink, stiffened slightly in the cool air. They could have been carved from marble, like the statues of saints found in the chapels of the Imperium, yet here they were—real, warm, breathtaking.

Kate tossed the bra onto the table and sat down, arms loosely crossed over her bare chest—not entirely covering herself, but enough to remind Jack that, despite everything, she was still in control.

"You sure you want to play another game?" Jack asked, his voice betraying his restraint, his body screaming for more, the alcohol only making it worse.

Kate smirked, swirling what little liquid remained in her cup.

"Depends," she murmured, meeting his gaze. "What's left to bet?"

"All or nothing?" Jack offered his voice low, deliberately tempting her. He knew exactly what was at stake, precisely what he was provoking—but he couldn't stop himself. The atmosphere was thick with tension, the heady mix of alcohol and anticipation making every glance, every touch, feel electric.

Kate leaned forward, her lips curling into a wicked smile. "Very well."

With greedy hands, she pulled two cards from the deck, her movements quick, almost reckless. Jack did the same, his pulse thrumming as they both threw their cards down onto the table, too caught up in the moment to consider strategy.

Kate's eyes widened. "FUCK YOU, JACK!" she yelled, but this time, her voice rang with triumph. She had won.

Jack blinked in disbelief as Kate shot up from her seat, celebrating her victory with an excited jump, her bare chest bouncing slightly with the movement. Her laugh was rich and teasing, pure exhilaration radiating from her flushed skin.

Then, with a slow, predatory grace, she stalked behind him, pressing herself against his back. He sucked in a sharp breath as he imagined her warm, bare skin pressing against him, the softness of her curves moulding against the rigid lines of his muscles. Her lips ghosted near his ear, her voice a husky purr.

"Guess it's my turn to see what you've been hiding, Jack."

His entire body tensed as she moved around him, straddling his lap in one fluid motion. His heart pounded at the contact, at the press of her thighs framing him. He felt her heat between her legs as his hardening member pressed against it. She shifted slightly, rolling her hips just enough to send fire licking through his veins, teasing, testing, savouring his reaction.

Jack clenched his fists against the urge to grip her, to pull her closer. His breathing had grown heavy, his pulse hammering against his ribs. "Kate—"

"Shhh. I won, you pay." She silenced him with a single finger against his lips, her other hand drifting down to the buttons of his uniform. One by one, she worked them open, her fingertips brushing against his heated skin. Every touch was deliberate, every movement slow and teasing, as if savouring each inch she uncovered.

Her breath hitched as she finally spread his jacket apart, her eyes darkening as she drank in the sight of him. For a fleeting second, there was something else in her expression—admiration, hunger, maybe even something deeper—but then it was gone, replaced by playful defiance.

She pressed herself against him again, her chest flush against his, her lips just a whisper away from his.

Jack exhaled sharply as she gripped his shirt, tugging it upward, her movements growing more frantic. The intoxicating scent of her skin, the way her breath came unevenly, the way her hips shifted against him—every part of him burned with need.

Then suddenly, with a strength that surprised her, Jack grabbed her by her rear, lifting her effortlessly. Kate gasped but didn't resist, wrapping her legs around his torso, her arms tightening around his neck. She was light—so light—and yet she felt impossibly solid in his grip, her body pressing into him in all the right ways.

His restraint was crumbling fast.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low, rough. "This might be a one-off. We're drunk—"

Kate met his gaze, her expression unwavering, eyes blazing with raw want.

"Shut up, Jack," she whispered, breathless. "And fuck me."

With one hand holding her, he opened with the other his trousers. Revealing his pulsating and throbbing member. He then moved to her underwear and pulled it to the side while slowly lowering her down. When his tip touched her entrance, he felt her shudder in anticipation. He could feel how wet she was, her juices already running over his swollen head.

"Jack- don't- tease- me", Kate started, her voice rough and husk. Before she could finish her sentence, Jack slowly lowered her further down, his tip spreading her entrance slowly apart, penetrating deeper and deeper into her wetness. She gasped, clawing against his chest as his member slowly, inch by inch, went deeper. Jack enjoyed every moment during his long and slow insertion, feeling her flow and muscles contract.

Finally, with the last inch to go, Jack released her. He just dropped her down. His length piercing into her, leaving her with the sensation of being impaled, by something large, hot and stiff.

Both took a moment to breathe, hold each other tight, and feel the moment.

"Fuck you, Jack-" Kate finally whispered between quick breaths, and both chuckled.

Jack then started to move again, gliding out of her slowly, savouring each moment. When his tip was about to pop out of her, he lowered her once more, this time with speed and vigour. He lifted his pelvis once, he knew she was about to hit the base of his dick. Burying himself even deeper inside of her. Kate breathed out a heady groan, as Jack increased in speed. She tried her best to adapt to his movement and take in as much of him as possible. She felt him enter repeatedly, over and over; and Kate was convinced that each time he did, he was trying to go even deeper, beyond what was possible.

Finally, she couldn’t hold it anymore, and shifted slightly, trying to kiss Jack's throat or maybe even bite, but it was a mistake. He suddenly hit a part inside that made her jump. A jolt went through her, everything tensed, and a wave of intense pleasure rippled through her.

The sudden muscle spasm also made Jack waver as the sudden tightness drove him over the edge. He nearly tipped over and had to sit down on the table as his member quivered and twitched inside of her velvety warmth.

Kate was out of breath, each twitch from Jack made her wince in pleasure, yet she was too exhausted to properly indulge in the feeling.

"Jack- This was intense." Kate managed to voice, leaning heavily against the muscular frame of her lover.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I am not done yet—" Jack informed her, and she suddenly realised he was right. His not-so-little friend was still stiff inside her.

"Uhm- Jack?" Kate tried to voice her concern, but he didn't listen or didn't want to. "Jack!" she tried again, but the guardsman had other plans.

He got back to his feet, holding her firmly with both arms slung around her waist and started to walk. Each step he took rammed his dick inside of her. She felt so sensitive, her senses dialled up to a hundred after she had already come once. She bit her lower lips as she felt a new wave of pleasure slowly crawling up on her.

Kate turned her head to the left, to see where Jack was taking her and through the haze of pleasure and drunkenness realised that his goal was a stack of crates. They were stacked just at the right hight for whatever Jack was planning next. Suddenly, Kate felt Jack withdraw from her, but before she could voice any protest, she was lying over the boxes, her breasts dangling over the edge, her rear in the air. It didn't take long until he went all in.

Kate felt the heat emanating from him and completely enveloping her as he fucked her roughly and without pause. After a while, Jack found that one spot again, that made her see the God Emperor himself and Kate, unable to  hold back any longer, rewarded his efforts with a high-pitched moan.

Jack grinned devilishly and made sure that each of his powerful thrusts made Kate squirm in pleasure, rendering her a complete mess; in the end, when he was sure that she has reached her peak, he allowed himself to let go as well and came deep inside of her.

After a few minutes, during which neither of them moved, and they simply savoured the moment, his breathing calmed down and he finally regained consciousness. When he was sure, he could move and not fall over. He finally pulled out of Kate, his limp member, plopping out of her with an audible pop.

Kate didn't move, unable to compose herself, wavering between consciousness and unconsciousness. As a result, she barely noticed Jack withdrawing.

"You ok?" Jack asked as he leaned over her. He didn't know why, but at that moment he followed a sudden impulse and pushed two of his fingers inside of her- stuffing the slick that was lazily dripping out of her abused hole back in.

Kate's response was a faint, unintelligible moan that could have been either complaint or arousal.

***

It took half an hour for Kate to return to her senses, only to find herself confused and lost but, most importantly, empty.

She lifted her head, looked around, and realised that one, she was still drunk, two, was in her bunk bed, and three, dressed in her uniform. Yet, there was no Jack around, only Daren, Giddeon and Celina. She dropped back unto the pillow and closed her eyes. She felt exhausted, and then there was this stickiness between her legs slowly leaving from within her, and she had to smile.

"Feeling better?" Celina chimed into Kate's daydream.

"Yea-" Kate answered hesitantly, unsure of how much she or the others were aware of.

"Good; we were all worried when Jack brought you back and told us you fell over from exhaustion." Celina clarified, and Kate nearly let out a sigh of relief. "But you are clearly drunk. You need to stay away from him. He will only get you in trouble. Frack- even his illegal trafficking of Amasec nearly got us into hot waters." Celina shook her head in disgust. "Frack him- If he wasn’t our sergeant-"

"Yeah," Kate smiled, leaning deeper into her pillow and closing her eyes. "Frack him-"

[colettebronte]

She Rings Like a Bell Through the Night: Chapter 4

Taglist Form

Series Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Bridgerton Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire!Anthony Bridgerton x Witch!fem Reader

Summary: The Witch mulls over The Protector’s request and after an enjoyable interlude, makes a request of her own

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: 18+ for the overall fic. For this chapter: non-explicit blood drinking, sensuality and first time vaginal sex

Minors DNI. I will put this up on Ao3 so please do not repost my work elsewhere

Author’s Note: Did I really write back-to-back smut chapters? You betcha! Please do enjoy! Thank you as always to the AMAZING @fayes-fics for continuing to beta this 🫶❤️

Even Later Still That Night, Somewhere in Rural England, 1695

The man before you is a vampire.

The entry in your Book of Shadows detailing these creatures of the night depicts inhumane monsters who lack any sort of control in the face of humans and their blood. And yet . . . 

Anthony has shown himself to be no such thing. He had first been kind in feeding you a hearty meal before anything else. He has been nothing short of a gentleman in his manners and behavior. And when you asked him to teach you about pleasure, he did so in equal parts tender and passionate. Even now, as he requested to taste your essence; your blood, he has given you the ability to decide if you wish to or not, despite the fact he could easily take it by force if he so chose to. 

But you know, he would never.

Fangs still protruding out from under his top lip, he gently pulls the quilt up over your bare chest, tucking it in for good measure. Your heart melts and spurs you into action, taking one of his cool hands in yours as he attempts to draw back.

“Will I become like you, if I let you have a taste?”

Anthony’s eyes soften in the candlelight. “No. The process of turning a human into a vampire is a lengthy one and I would not dare subject you to it.”

You nod, another question coming to mind. “Will it hurt?”

He squeezes your hand. “Not in the slightest. In fact, you should find the sensation extremely pleasurable.”

You inhale sharply. “More pleasurable than what we just did together?”

He says nothing in response but the way his eyes darken is answer enough. Quietly, he asks, “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

You chew your bottom lip for a moment and then ask your final question. “If it will be so pleasurable for me. What will it do for you?”

Anthony regards you for a moment before responding, “Oh My Heart, my beautiful, clever witch, none of the others have ever asked me that before.” He sits up and releases your hand. His own begin to fly through the air as he explains, “Your blood will suffuse me and I will grow stronger, warmer and it will make my own powers grow. Typically I use that power to strengthen the protective barrier around the village, to keep you all hidden. But as you have requested, I will release it. It is clear that it is time for things to change.”

You sit up and gaze at him in surprise. “You truly intend to release the village?”

Anthony nods. “For you, anything.” Before you voice your thanks, he adds, “I will need another way to channel my power, but I swear to you, you shall come to no harm.”

You take hold of his hand again, entwining his fingers with yours.  “I know you won’t hurt me.” You pull down the blanket to bare your throat. “Drink from me what you need.”

Anthony huffs a small laugh. “I won’t take it from there,” he pauses to turn your hands over, releasing yours to expose your wrist. He rubs a finger over your pulse point. “I prefer to drink from here.”

You swallow thickly as Anthony meets your eyes and asks you,  “Are you absolutely certain that I may drink from you?”

You reach up to grasp your pendant and, after a deep breath, extend your arm and say, “Yes.”

Anthony nods and then takes your wrist and brings his lips down to it, first giving it a gentle kiss. You can feel your heart thudding in your chest as Anthony runs his tongue along your pulse point and then he seals his lips over the spot. You close your eyes, bracing for the feeling of being punctured, only to feel the gentlest of dual pinpricks.

Opening your eyes, you can only stare as Anthony, who has closed his eyes, begins to drink from you gently.

At first, you feel nothing, but then all of a sudden, an intense warmth floods through you, a pleasant vibration following it. It infuses your whole body, making you moan and throw your head back against the pillows behind you. You start to lie back and Anthony goes with you, his mouth still firmly attached to your wrist.

Waves of intense pleasure roll through your body and you have to grasp the sheets under you with your free hand. Your legs rise off the bed, your feet planted on the soft mattress as you keen and wail. Your whole body continues to shake with bliss and you cry out Anthony’s name.

You feel Anthony lick your pulse point and then he pulls off you. You raise your wrist, expecting to see blood, but there’s not even the slightest mark. Still in the throes of ecstasy, you stare at Anthony, grabbing him by the hand and, with a strength you didn’t know you possessed, tug him down towards you until he lies atop you, staring deeply into your eyes.

You run your arms up and down his bare back as he leans down to nuzzle your breasts. His skin under your hands feels as warm as yours and the fact that your blood did that to him, brings out something fierce and feral within you.

You reach down to tug his face towards yours and draw him into a heated kiss, all teeth and tongue. He whines into your mouth and then matches your intensity, sliding his body up to lay his head beside yours on the pillows.

Anthony draws back to catch his breath, closing his eyes while you explore the contours of his face with your fingertips.

Running over his cheek you murmur, “Is this how you wish to channel your power?”

Eyes still closed, Anthony smiles. “Absolutely.”

And then you squeal as you’re being rolled over, your body under Anthony as he props himself up with his powerful forearms to stare down at you. His hard cock nudging against your thighs feels like velvety steel, and by the Goddess, do you want it inside you.

You run a hand down his chest and lean up to whisper hotly in his ear, “Take me, please.”

His eyes darken in the candlelight. He glances down between you as you part your legs. He inhales sharply and then says quietly, “There will be pain, My Heart. Just for a moment and only this first time I enter you. It cannot be avoided. If it is too much, you must tell me and we shall stop.”

His regard for you in this moment brings a different kind of warmth to your core. “I understand,” you tell him.

Anthony nods and then presses his forehead against yours, kissing your cheek as he carefully lowers his body. You gasp as his cock parts your folds and he seats himself partially inside you. You hiss as a burst of pain blooms and Anthony stills as you close your eyes and adjust to the feeling. Your breathing is labored for a few moments, but then the pain subsides, and all you can feel is him inside you. Opening your eyes, you see him watching you carefully.

You reach your palm up to rub his warm cheek. “More please,” you whisper. 

Anthony nods and then he slides further inside you, causing you to gasp with pleasure, the feeling no longer bringing you pain. You widen your legs and he seats himself fully before drawing back, his cock rubbing against that same secret spot inside you that earlier gave you so much enjoyment. You reach up to grab his back, fingernails digging in as he slides in and out of you.

While he thrusts in and out of your body, he presses hot kisses wherever his mouth can reach: your mouth, then down to your neck and then to your breasts. At one point, he reverently presses his lips to your pendant and you feel something fizz inside you as his magic briefly mingles with yours.

So lost in each other, it’s a surprise when the warm, bright light overtakes your senses, this time far more intense than earlier as all sound goes away. You pitch your head forward and scream into Anthony’s shoulder. You feel him stiffen above you and then something warm flows between you as he ducks down to bury his face in your hair as his body shakes, crying out your name.

**********

Without windows, you cannot tell how much time has passed when you finally regain your senses, Anthony a warm, pleasant weight at your side, his fingers carding through your hair.

You open your eyes to see him gazing at you fondly. He sits up and asks you, “What is it that you truly desire?”

You blink, sitting up beside him, propping yourself back against the pillows. “You have already granted me the two things I have asked for.”

Anthony sighs, “My Heart, there is something else, I can feel it.” He takes both your hands in his, eyes imploring you to answer him honestly.

 How can this man know you so well after just one night together? You heave a sigh and sparing a glance down at your pendant, tell him your most secret wish.

“If I am lucky, I’ll live another twenty years or so at best. It’s not enough time to learn all of the aspects of the craft I wish to,” you pause and then clarify, “What I truly desire is to have more time.”

taglist: @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @faye-tale @cosmiclove330 @abridgerton @fiction-is-life @kmc1989 @alexandrainlove @ietss @multi-fandom-lover7667 @turtle-cant-communicate @liliac-dreamer @hottytoddyhistory @laniec03 @sky0401 @queenofmean14 @jtheteenagewitch

[just-some-trans-nobody]

December Christmas Monster stories

17.) Dragon x Knight

Nammot the male dragon falls for a brave male Knight and one thing leads to another. Hope ya'll enjoy, this was my first time writing dragon smut.

Warning: NSFW, grinding, cum, person covered in cum, dry cumming, cock humping, thigh fucking, no penetration sex, gay sex, sex with a dragon, large tounge licking human body, threats of death, meantions of eating humans, possessive dragon, let me know if I forgot any warnings.

Minors Don't Interact!!! You will be blocked immediately.

Word count 2751

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Snow fell around the caves entrance slowly blocking the way if not for Nammot’s fiery hot breath melting it all away each time he let out a heavy sigh. Not many knights would make the treacherous path up the steep hill let alone do it in the snow leaving Nammot rather bored waiting for anything of interest to happen. He wanted a knight to fight, to eat up in one bite and play with his shiny armor adding it to his collection. That is what he told himself, he was waiting for a knight yes but not just any knight. He was waiting for a knight who had called himself Percevale. 

Nammot was planning on eating him the first time they had met but instead of drawing his sword when he first laid eyes on the dragon he had greeted him and had even asked for his name. No knight had ever done that to him during his many years of terrorizing the villages and kingdom. It made Nommot pause his fire breath and think for a moment about it, he hadn’t said his own name in so long he had almost forgotten it completely. “Nammot you may call me but not for long little shiny one for you sure will be dead soon.” He had growled out, smoke pouring from his nostrils as he readied himself to hurl his fiery breath at him. “Nammot? A nice name. Does it mean anything?” The knight had asked, confusing him and once more causing him to stop the fire building up in his throat. “Pardon?” Nammot asked confused by the question. “Well my name means to pierce the veil, whatever that means. Names have meaning to it, what our parents hope us to do someday. Or for those who choose their own name it means the path they intend to take.” Percivale explained looking up at the dragon. “Seems your parents wanted you to see the dead.” He snorted sitting down on his hind legs, an action reminding Percivale of how a dog sits. “Heh my parents must have wanted me to be a grave keeper rather than a knight then.” Nammot was absolutely baffled hearing a knight actually laugh and make what seemed to be a joke to him. It was always screams or threats of death upon the king's orders. What kind of knight was he to not attack him but to be kind to him? It surely must have been a trap one he will not fall for. Standing back up he snarled as he for a third time readied his fire breath wanting to kill the knight for daring to make a fool of him thinking he could tick him. Seeing Pericivale reach for something he acquired his shoulder ready for the knight to draw his sword all the more ready to burn him to a crisp but all movements froze when the knight pulled out a small dragon carved from wood. “I made this for you. You always take things so I guessed maybe no one has given you anything before.” He explained holding the wooden dragon up for Nammot to see better and for a third time he cooled the fire in his throat and leaned in close to look at the small dragon held in Percival's gauntlet. His pupils dilated for a movement as he stared at his gift before turning back into slits as he leaned back. “Ahem your offering will suffice, I shall not kill you this time but if you come again I shall not be as kind.” Nammot sneered as he held out his large scaled paw for Pericivale to drop  the wooden item into.

The wooden dragon now sits on top of his hoard, his prized possession though he never admits it. Percivale came back again and again, each time with a gift for Nammot, each time Nammot said he would surely kill him the next time they met but never followed up with his threat. Between their meetings the longer Nammot waited the grumpier he got, he didn’t like waiting for his devoted follower as he liked to call him. Percivale liked to call him his friend, though Nammot would scoff at the words but never correct him about it. 

As the seasons changed to winter Nammot now waited for Percivale to visit him, growing more and more impatient. “This time I really will kill him if the cold doesn't do it before he gets here.” The moment Nammot had muttered those words he had regretted it. What if Percivale had really died and he just didn’t know him. The thought of losing his only friend struck his heart like a piercing arrow. This feeling only grew worse as the hours turned to days, still Percivale didn’t show. Nammot wallowed in his grief thinking his little knight was dead. That is until one day as Nammot was sprawled out letting out soft whimpers the sound of clanking footsteps froze him in his tracks. “Percivale?” He called sitting up staring at the entrance of the cave with baited breath but as the figure drew closer and made no sound Nammot grew worried it wasn’t him and some other knight had braved the mountain in the winter in hopes to catch the dragon off guard. Standing up Nammot readied his fire breath growling as his eyes narrowed.“Ah did the day finally come when you surely would kill me?” a voice called up, almost bringing Nammot to his knees. “Oh my knight!” He wailed out before clearing his throat trying to compose himself. “I mean oh it’s you… thought you were some other foolish knight here for me to feed upon.” Nammot said, puffing his chest out as he looked away. Percivale knew Nammot was embarrassed, he could read that dragon better than Nammot would have liked him to be able. “Ah yes of course, you must be starving with so few knights to eat. They’re all trying to avoid being out in the cold.” Percivale said with a shiver of his own. Smiling under his helmet he walked over to Nammot, not afraid of the dragon in the slightest and plopped down next to him. “What did you bring me this time, my devoted follower?” Nammot asked leaning his head in closer, he knew nothing of personal space and was almost pressing his large head against Percivales armored body. “Food.” He stated looking through the bag he had brought. “Dried meat, it lasts longer. Though with your size I would say this is more of a snack than a few days' meals as it would be for me.” Percivale laughed, taking out the large pouch of meats. Nammot opened his mouth in a silent demand for the knight to feed him. A demand Percivale followed with no second thought to it, just opening the bag and dumping the contents into the dragon's mouth. “Mind if I take my armor off? I worked up a sweat in the cold and now all my clothes are wet from it. It’s very unpleasant.” He started the long process of taking off all his armor, one Nammot nodded his head not caring at all. Dragons were always naked. Why would he care if a human was too? 

He found himself watching Pericivale undressing in the corner of his eye, he was trying to act like he didn’t care in the slightest but this had been the first time he had seen the knight take anything off past his helmet and Nammot was a curious dragon. Humans had such an interesting body. They were no dragon of course, such puny things but Nammot found himself admiring Percivales body. Turning his head to look at him better Nammot watched Percivale spread out his cold wet clothes onto the stones in the cave in hopes the dragons heat would dry them. He was unaware of the glowing eyes scanning each scar and blemish on his body as he moved around naked in the cave. 

A gush of cold winter air blew in from the cave's entrance causing Percivale to shiver as it bit at his exposed skin. That wouldn’t do, Nammot couldn’t have his devoted follower suffering from the cold. Letting out a displeased snort, Nammot swept his tail around Percivale pulling him in closer to his much larger body. He pretended he didn’t see the wide grin on Percivales face as he sat down leaning against Nammots stomach. It felt strange to him to have someone touching his weaker under belly. It was a great sign of trust for a dragon to show their underbellies let alone let someone be pressed against it but he had that trust for his little human. The two stayed like that for a few hours until Percivale drifted off to sleep curled up against Nammot. He watched the sleeping knight admiring eyes, how does a human like him feel so comfortable sleeping so close to a dragon? “Silly little human.” Nammot whispered, gently nuzzling his face against Perivicales, laying his head down, closing his eyes drifting off into a slumber of his own.

It was a peaceful rest until the sounds of quiet wimpers woke Nammot up. Lifting his head up he looked to Percivale with worry thinking he had hurt him by mistake in his sleep, gotten to careless and shifted his weight onto him crushing him, or maybe nicked him with one of his talons. Seeing Percivale was still in one piece with no crushed bones Nammot tilted his head and leaned him pressing his nose against his trembling form. Maybe he was cold, was that it? Nammot blew a small amount of his breath onto him hoping to warm his little devoted human. It didn’t stop the shivering or the whimpering much to his dismay. Frowning he gently nuzzled his nose against him. Sure enough that stopped the sounds that were causing Nammot distress. Sighing he relaxed and nuzzled him again as he slowly closed his eyes drifting back to sleep. His hot breath caressing Percivales body with exhale. After a while the hot careesses drew too much for Percivale, soft moans left his lips as his dreams turned from the earlier nightmares to sinful thoughts of desire. Nammot slipped into a lighter sleep state hearing the moans, he mistook them for the whimpers from earlier so to comfort his little human he nuzzled him again adding fuel to Percivales burning loins. He moaned much louder at that, waking the both of them almost immediately. Pulling back with wide eyes Percivale looked away, his face turning a bright shade of red as he did his best to hide his lower half. Nammot looked at him blinking a few times as the gears in his head started to turn, still a little slow about it until he finally took in the scent of his arousal. “Oh.” He said with a dry throat only able to let out the one word. “How indecent of you.” Nammot thought his teasing was clear but he froze when he noticed Percivales eyes had started to water at his words. His heart sank at the sight. Letting out a soft rumble Nammot pressed his nose to him nuzzling him once more. “I didn’t mean it like that silly little thing.” He hummed, sending vibrations throughout Percivales body. His tongue slithered out giving Percivale what was meant to be a comforting lick across his body, Percivale didn’t take it that way and moaned feeling the hot muscle drag up his body from stomach up to his chest coating him in drool. It wasn’t originally what Nammot was going for but it was an outcome he didn’t mind. His pretty little human made such lovely sounds. Wanting to draw out more he licked him again causing Percivale to gasp and writhe against the feeling. “What are you doing? Nammot stop it.” Percivale whined as his back arched. “If you wish it.” Nammot whispered, pulling back, he watched him with greedy eyes wanting to taste more of his flesh. Looking up at Nammot Percivale let out a soft whimper as he held eye contact with the dragon.“Do it again?” He whispered embarrassed by his words by controlled by his lust. Nammot smirked as he leaned back in pushing the knight's legs wide open with his nose as he stuck his tongue back up licking his crotch up to his neck causing Percivale to let out several gasps and whiny moans. The dragon let out a moan of his own, tasting the sweat on Percivales body. His skin tastes like sweet nectar and Nammot was almost tempted to take a bite but reframed himself from doing so. Letting out a moan Percivale pushed his hips up against Nammots tongue begging for more from the dragon. Leaning back Percivale noticed a shape to his side that wasn’t there before. Turning his head to get a better look his eyes widened seeing the dragons unsheathed cock. “By the gods I think that might be bigger than I am.” Percivale said in both shock and awe. 

“Do you like it?” The dragon asked with a cocky tone, the smell coming from Percivale already gave him his answer. Rolling onto his back Nammot stretched out showing off his cock. “I assume you know what to do.” He said as if it was obvious and Percivale should be able to read his mind. “What? No, no I don’t know what to do. I’ve never fucked a dragon before!” Percivale exclaimed geturing to Nammot and his cock causing the dragon to frown. He was hoping Percivale knew what to do, he hadn’t fucked a human before, he hadn’t the fantiest idea on how this could work. “Climb on top of me and grind against me, it’s why I was licking you duh.” Nammot stated as if it was a fact and not him pulling something out of thin air. Percivale let out a soft oh as he stared at the dragon's cock. Gulping he climbed up his hip and straddled Nammots monstrous cock the best he could. It was burning hot, almost too hot for Percivale but the moment his cock touched Nammots he let out a long moan. Holding onto the ridges of Nammots cock for support he started to move back and forth rubbing his thighs and cock against him to simulate them both at the same time. Percivale was worried at first he wasn’t doing a good enough job as he stared at the unmoving dragon. Nammot wasn’t making a single sound, not even blinking. Just breathing heavily as he watched him with unsatiated hunger. Moving faster Percivale let out a louder moan as his back arched. Still Nammot made not a single sound, he dared not to as he didn’t want to miss a single lewd sound Percivale made pleasuring himself on his burning cock. The sounds and sight of Percivale would be his most cherished treasure for all times, he knew that already. Feeling Percivale grow slower Nammot growled and grasped his waist in his clawed hand holding him as he rutted his hips against him taking control of the situation. “Keep those pretty legs wrapped around me.” He ordered letting out a moan. Percivale gladly followed orders and squeezed his legs against the dragon's cock. Nammot wasn’t sure how long this went on. By the time he had his fill of orgasms both his stomach and Percivale was covered in his sticky cum. Percivale was dazed and panting, his last three orgasms he had been cumming dry, completely spent and having lost track of them long ago. Letting out an over-stimulated whine Percivale looked to Nammot with tear soaked eyes, neither had realized he had been crying from the amount of pleasure he had been feeling. “I don’t have anything left in me.” He said almost pleading to Nammot who nodded his head in agreement. “Nor I.” The dragon said, lifting the knight up, setting him onto his chest. Percivale let out a soft whine but snuggled into him almost immediately. “Wouldn’t mind if this became a regular thing when I visit you.” He said letting out a winded laugh drawing a rumbling laugh from Nammot. “If this becomes a regular thing I don’t think I would let you out of my cave.” Having Percivale live there sounded rather good in that moment, Percivale silently agreed with it too, he could get used to living like this.

[retroghostss]

Could I request for a !sub! Horangi x !Dom! Reader? Here me out :3

Horangi was acting too cocky on how he would be better in bed than you.

He obviously ment it as a joke but you took it a bit too seriously..

Then there he was.

Legs wide open as he whimpered, moaned and whine as you were there inbetween his legs teasing him using your fingers

Adding a finger after another,

As he begged you countless times to cum.

"Better than me?"

Summary: Horangi teased you constantly about how he would be way better than you in bed, but he quickly regretted those words when you had enough

Pairings: Horangi x GN!reader

Warnings: Blowjob, handjob, edging, masturbation, and you being a dick 😒

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long I was distracted with trying to work on some male reader fics 😭 also I decided to give Horangi some Y/N energy because I was in a goofy mood and needed to giggle at something ;P ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡♡♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He really only meant it as a joke.

"Please...please I'm sorry I'm sorry...I didn't mean it..."

But you most definitely didn't take it as one.

Earlier today, Horangi began teasing you about how he would be so much better in bed than you are.

"You probably couldn't even make me cum once~"

"I could have you screaming my name in seconds~"

"Maybe you're just upset that I can easily draw such noises out of your pretty lips~"

But now there he was, his hands tied to his back with his legs forced wide open for you, as he made all sorts of desperate noises for you.

He would whimper, moan, groan, and let out little gasps and squeaks while you ran you tongue over his throbbing, red, and sensitive cock.

"Please...I take it back...Let me cum please I swear I'll be good for you, I-I swear...please"

He begged, but immediately stopped once you took all of him into your mouth, gliding your head up and down.

"Oh, fuck! Please...." He whimpered, throwing his head back.

He loved the feeling of your hot, wet mouth around his shaft.

"I-I'm gonna cum...I'm gonna cum!"

"Horangi, don't you dare cum yet.Don't you DARE."

But it was too late.

"Please....Please no I'm sorry I didn't mean to..I-I swear it was an accident-"

"Shut up." You interrupted him as you grabbed him and tossed him back onto the bed.

You heard a desperate whimper coming from him, pleading that you don't do whatever you're about to do, but you didn't care.You wanted him to learn his lesson.

You grabbed his dick, and started to jack him off at a fast pace.In return for this action you got Horangi bucking his hips up, whimpering.

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck please please please...~"

Soon he was close.Really close.

Just as he's about to cum, you let go, watching him cry out as he realizes that his release isn't gonna come easy.

"no no no why would you do that?!"

Tears were streaming down his face.He was sobbing.He was desperate.Very desperate.But then again, he basically asked for this, so that's his fault.

You grabbed his dick again, and just like before, didn't let him cum.

Over and over again, you did the same thing.You grabbed his cock, stroked it until he was close, but never let him cum.

Until he couldn't take it anymore.

He with a scream, Horangi kicked you back and snapped the ropes that tied him back.

"I can't do this I need it!I need it so fucking bad!"

And with that, you watched as he grabbed his own cock and jerked himself off, followed up by whimpers and moans leaving his lips.

He was on his back, legs spread out infront of you while his hands glided up and down around his dick fast.It was one of the most pornographic things you have ever seen before.

Within a couple of moments, Horangi cums the hardest he ever has.His semen spurts out from the air to his own stomach.

"Oh fuck yeah, that felt good..."

You said nothing, you sat there speechless from what you just saw.

Horangi may not have realized it, but it turns out he still managed to find a way to leave you unsatisfied and flustered, even when he's unaware of his surroundings and what he's doing.

[retroillustrates]

I'm here to annoy yall with tragic (and slightly exaggerated) art I reused an old illustration to draw a scene from my microfic

(I don't promise I won't do this again lol)

Fic under cut if yall don't feel like going to my AO3

Hashirama's eyes followed the man who is staggering in front of him. His moves sluggish and raw from the battle, both of their armors half destroyed.

"I guess I underestimated you, Hashirama." Madara half laughed, half choked on his own blood which he promptly spat on the muddy ground. Rain had begun pouring down at some point.

"Madara, cease this. It's not too late to return." Hashirama started, but Madara laughed at him

"You're still at it, Hashirama? Haven't we decided upon that in battle? It is too late. It had been for quite some time." Madara wiped the blood off his lip, his sharingan deactivating from exhaustion.

Hashirama clenched his fists "You're willing to just throw away our dream like that? What changed, Madara?" he didn't want to acknowledge what protecting the dream meant: stopping anyone who opposed it, even if it meant death.

"Wake up to reality, Hashirama. I never changed. I'm simply taking action. It's time to properly establish peace upon the world, and I'll be the one to accomplish it."

"Is that not what we both wanted, Madara?" Hashirama took a step towards him. Had all of what they went through been for naught? Just empty words? "Your idea of peace is unstable, and doomed to fail. How can you see prosper in such a foolish ideal? People are not like you, they are selfish and self serving. No one will ever ne truly able to understand each other." Madara took a step forward as well.

Another step, and another step, and they were face to face again.

Hashirama looked at Madara's form. He was battered and bruised all over, but his eyes showed determination. Misguided determination. Hashirama almost pitied him. He wanted to help him but at the same time he could not abandon his legacy just as it was starting to grow it's roots.

"Madara, stop this. We both want the same thing, and we cannot achieve it alone. Come back to the village. If it's about the Uchiha discrimination issue, I'll resolve it with Tobirama, and-"

Madara laughed again. Hashirama found it unsettling "You just can't get a grip, can you? It's not about the damn clan, Hashirama, not even about my dead kin!" he growled, revealing a kunai he sneaked from his sleeve. Hashirama met it instantly with his katana and disarmed Madara in a matter of seconds. Madara fell to his knee.

"You've exhausted yourself. You can't fight me like this." he looked down at the man, who was taking in painful breaths. "I don't wish to kill you, Madara."

Madara huffed "And yet you fought me with all your might." he looked up at the man, who had his sword still pointed at him "And you also want me at your side for your silly ideale that are doomed to fail and bring more traumas to the following generations. You may preserve the" peace," but will you be able to preserve those for whom that peace will be for?" he grinned, his face twisted and sinister. Hashirama took a step back. He'd never seen Madara like that.

"And if you really want me and need me that bad, then take me!" Madara laughed again, and charged at him, allowing Hashirama's blade to run through his heart. Hashirama screamed in horror as Madara's body fell to the ground, the rain spreading the crimson across the wet ground.

"Anything for your dream, is that so? Curse you for a slayer." the Uchiha's eye glowed in the dark, dripping with red, and Hashirama felt sick, felt like he wanted to scream over and over.

*

"Hashirama!" a voice called out to him.

His body shook and he jolted up with a yell. He felt Mito's hands on him, a comforting presence in the hell of his mind.

"Nightmares?" she knew him well. He nodded.

"I know well how bad they are." she whispered. He leaned into her arms and she found no more words of comfort.

[yuseirra]

Mm..; well, I went and checked the hikaai tag

I actually don't really look up the tags here anymore because I get nervous,

Um.. Um.. I'm sorry for being an embarrassment(I SURE POSTED A LOT...) But I found a lot of things worthy of drawing about them and there was something that really drew me in about the two of them!

It happens when I really like a ship. I enjoy thinking about two people sharing a very strong bond, having a deep attachment toward one another, caring a lot, I can go on about that and explore about it on and on. I never get tired of it. I've been doing it whenever I join fandoms. It's something I find very precious and these two had something intriguing between them.

I think...I'll be still able to provide more, thankfully.

My chest is actually lifted to a degree(if they're going to refrain from explaining anything at all??) Because I refuse to downright just take the guy as a monster when we DON'T KNOW how things exactly played out!!!;; why can't they show it to us?? The whole thing about lies? Covering up? Was that what this character was supposed to be about? Then ISN'T the public's perception of him what's WRONG because, he'll be known for being Aqua's killer when he ISN'T. HE DIDN'T WANT HIS SON TO DIE. THIS WASN'T THE OUTCOME HE'S WANTED, evil or not. That much is still clear. It's still unfair. If he's bad, let him face the consequences of what he's actually responsible for. We don't know. This isn't justice then! So, you know what. I am not going to take him as the evil behind it all. I could sense some kindness in him even if what's left of it's a remnant of what he's originally used to be. This wasn't a person that should have turned out this way. I could see it really well.

Nothing about what Kamiki's told to Aqua about the nature of the industry turned out to be wrong, did it? People flock together and they entertain themselves with stories, isn't that what's happened to Ai? And now it'll happen to Ruby? Gosh, this really does feel like a bad/normal ending route of a video game. What more did we need to unlock the "true end" and find out the real truths of what's been happening? Sad or Bad or Normal ending or not, however, the writers should EXPLAIN what's been going on still. What are they going to do if they can't do that within the given limits of their own piece?

Since things are so indefinite, I can take things as positively as I'd like, out of all the possibilities, huh? And I don't think it'd be so far from the real truth either... I don't really see Ai having fallen for some "monster" because they were smiling very happily together in their thoughts of each other. The positive emotions they had were mutual. He was so happy to be with her. That wasn't a lie. She wanted to be forever with him and he thought she made him feel alive. I think that's precious. Whatever they'd become. I don't think...Hikaru would have EVER tried to harm someone he felt that way towards. The guy used to be TIMID.

Oh this got long again but, since the series is ending there wouldn't be a lot to add about, heard there's going to be live action and Hikaru may get some scenes there? Seeing what the recent writing's made of him, can I..;; trust them to write him in a way that treats him like a human being? Idk, it's been so confusing because I was ALWAYS able to read out some parts of his humanity as he appears(I actually wholeheartedly resonate with the idea that the guy must have had a noble soul.) but they make the other characters treat him like an irredeemable villain that shouldn't be regarded to have a heart.

I'd like to think he was an essentially good person. And at least.. There will not be ANYTHING left to completely refute and deny me of this impression I have of him. I'd like to think Ai chose a kind soul to be her partner. What happened after she died and what's become of him...what is with this man? I can't BELIEVE that's still ambigious, trust me, I'm very strict about morals and being in the right. That's why I was so nervous. That's why I kept questioning. I need to know something in full in order to be able to judge something, it's unfair to do it without it being so and.. It seems like we'll never know. I'll never have to worry every week and question whether everything about him and Ai were to be lies. Maybe it is but??; I've come to the conclusion that their love was actually real. It did bring disasters but I think they really did care for one another?? Things could have been so much better. I think they really could have been happy with the twins and them having formed a loving family could have become reality, because Hikaru was never so hostile towards the twins after all except that one really freaky thought he had but HE DIDN'T GO THROUGH WITH IT. He probably.. Really could have felt Ai in a pretty solid sense if he did but he still didn't(no but what was really happening there????)

I can come up with some things. I'll do it, even if I end up looking at other works. Thank you for viewing my works regarding this couple ;v;)♥ I'm.. Glad to say they saved me some positivity left but that's not because the ending was good, it's because I already had it within me and the work didn't blow it out. I'll draw something about Aqua too this weekend because that boy deserves it. I have no idea why he couldn't just live unless he has to sacrifice his life to form a seal to kill his dad who can't normally be suppressed... Having him die... Really doesn't contribute to the story in any way the way I see it, I'd see if there's a point to it but I don't see it having any meaningful message with Ruby being how she is in the ending either. Her "growth" sort of.. Reverted back didn't it??;; so, it's better if Aqua just lives. Literally no one wanted it to happen. He himself wanted to live. What will become of his soul?? Tsukuyomi should take responsibility for having put him in that body and let him live a normal life!! He got caught up in other people's mess until the very end!

[hellcatinnc]

My Twisted Mind

And The Men Who Have Made Me That Way...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I find I have a twisted way of being attracted to some men in my otome games. Like for instance I love Dance With Devils however Urie attracted me because of the saying below, sick right?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Then there is Itychs in Star Crossed Myth that says below and although not sure he was meaning it per say I found myself even more attracted to him. The idea of someone wanting to make love to you until they break you is a odd thing to say but when its from a god it can be taken so many ways.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pewrep surprised me with this specific action but yet at the same time I found it so hot that he wanted to lick her until everyone could smell him on her and know that she was his. Talk about possessiveness which is hot in itself.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This wasn't normal and probably should not romanticize it in my head but yet I found them just that romantic that he would go to hell for her as well as he had no regrets of the damage he may have done to her mind for kidnapping her but he isn't apologetic for it. Still again somehow romantic.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sadly saint germain could kill me any day if he looks they way he does below. Like the sound of his voice, the atmosphere as he leans in oh my lord the way to go out of this world couldn't imagine a better way however I would have pushed my luck and asked for a kiss first.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I don't get it he isn't the most attractive yet at some point he became sexy to me. His look the way he even talks and his quotes draw me in.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Laito damn this man is sexy all in itself. Another one to die but and with him he will make it feel real good when he does it. Its like taking you to heaven before taking you to hell.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somehow the way Fuuto comes across at times especially when he was dressed as a vampire is pretty hot. They used to be cringey to me but then I played the game and realized he is sexier than I once thought. Even his borderline possession and aggressiveness can come off hot in the right setting.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Misyr the sexiest demon I have ever seen yes please kidnap me I will volunteer completely. He jokes but yet still sexy when he says it then gives a wink after.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My dear Ikki yes please break everyone else. The fact he wants to have his way with him woman weirdly enough that is fuckin hot. This man could do so many things to me and I would never complain.

Yes I know seriously this is a weird list for me. They are not full on yandere type men and I know thats big for alot of anime/otome lovers however mine are just slightly twisted but not yandere psycho well most times at least. Not sure if anyone else agrees with me but damn this is my hot twisted men list for sure. They are in no specific order.

[yandere-yearnings]

Hi Dar, don’t mind me crawling into your asks 😞 I just woke up from the weirdest dream of my life and felt like the first thing I needed to do was re read your posts,

I love your writing so much, like every time I read it again is like discovering new details, sometimes I just stare at my roof and just think like this is the most poetic shit I have ever read,

and your drawings?? Whole other amazing thing, like I have to hold back from licking my phone🤗

I just grabbed my sketchbook and I was thinking on doing something for Laurent 😇😇 And on that note I wanted to ask if mayhaps you have any head cannons (nsfw or sfw anything you write will satisfy my eyes:3) for him or if you could give me a brief description of his appearance? I want to get Laurent as close as possible to what you imagine him as :DDD

if you aren’t feeling like it you can just ignore this <33

Remember to wear sun screen!!!

smile i will never ever mind you crawling into my asks, you can make a home here if you wanna, i'll provide😤 i hope your dream wasn't too,, jarring?? also i'm absolutely flattered that your first course of action was reading my stuff, thank you😭💕

the way you have me almost on the verge of tears rn, like you'll never know how much hearing stuff like this means to me, i'm grateful that you even notice all the little details, and that you actually think it's poetic too😩💔 i don't even draw good, but your compliments are genuinely the sweetest, i can't help the way they make me happy🥺🩷

ALSO YOU WANNA DRAW MY BBY LAURENT??????? in your pretty artstyle, that's like an honour amongst honours fr🤧 i had another ask come in requesting smth similar for him so i'm gonna start working on laurent general hcs right after i finish up some uni work!! hopefully it'll only take me a day or two😔 until then, a brief description of him;

strong features

brunette

green eyes

thick eyebrows

a scar that cuts through said eyebrows and into the crease of his eye

rarely has his hair unstyled

mostly in suits (paired with an endearing smile)

additionally, tho at times it may take me a while to respond, i'd absolutely never ignore you❗️❗️ i don't think i've worn sunscreen in years actually and i realise that's probably a cause for concern so thank you for the reminder, i'll try and make it a habit somehow haha😭💔

[warrior-cats-rewritten]

is crowfeather still bad to breeezepelt?

He is. In a different way.

To be quite honest, even with the changes I've made to him, he would still be a shitty parent to the 3 if he had joined Thunderclan during TNP, PO3, or OOTS.

He doesn't hit Breezepelt now, because that would be too obvious and Squilf would literally kill him...

Instead it's more... Emotional. Verbal. He refuses to show interest in anything his son does, and it all comes down to one statement I heard that resonated with me quite a bit.

"When you become a parent, you go from center stage, to stage crew."

Crowfeather was not ready to accept that he was never going to be center stage again. Nightcloud was MORE than happy with it, girl is at her soundboard and she is vibing.

Crowfeather also... REALLY struggled with a lot of his classes, and so, when Breezepaw turns out to be a prodigy, he gets jealous.

He makes snarky remarks, and ignores his son, who desperately wants to make his father happy.

When Breezepelt finds out about the 3, he "puts it together" that it's them standing in the way of love, it's them that make his father moody and distant, it's THEM that make him gaze at the Thunderclan border like it's a missing limb it's THEM who make him fight with Nightcloud it's THEM it's THEM IT'S THEM-

Sure... He helps find Hollyleaf, because deep down... He feels a connection to them. But he makes it clear, it's the last thing he'll ever do for his siblings. From now on, it's war. They did a kind thing for him, he returned it, now it's on sight.

Crowfeather fights with Nightcloud all the time, and it's damaging to Breezekit and Breezepaw and Breezepelt.

Tigerstar, snake that he is, slinks down one night to Breezepelt, appearing in a dark field, where Breezey-P is drawing in the dirt. A dream, of course. He asks Breeze what's wrong, that he looks so sad, so angry... Ah, his father betrayed him too. Having a mate in another Clan? That's just as bad as becoming a kittypet! No wonder Breezepelt is so upset! A smart young tom like him shouldn't be doing something useless like drawing!

You should be taking action... Start with the blind one. An old friend of mine will teach you how to fight a blind cat best...

Silverhawk takes Breezepelt under his wing, and things begin to spiral.

In the end, after all is said and done, Crowfeather tells Breezepelt something he never expected to hear.

"I'm so glad you're more like your mother. You deserved better than a poor excuse of a father like me."

Breezey's suspicious, is he trying some kind if angle? Pity? What is he-

"I'm sorry. For everything. I hurt you, and I can't take it back, and... I failed you, and Nightcloud. I'm sorry."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"I don't forgive you."

"You don't have to."

"You're leaving, aren't you?"

"..."

"You-"

"Be good for Pickle, show him your best hunting spots. Teach him everything you've got in that head of yours. Starclan knows he needs it."

"Thank you, Crowfeather. I will."

"And by the way, Heathertail likes stews best."

"Hey! You-!"

"Goodbye, Breezepelt, and good luck with your new position. May Starclan light your path, always."

Crowfeather knows that their relationship is beyond repair, and that Pickle is a better father to Breezepelt in 4 DAYS than he has been all of Breezey-P's life. The best thing he can do is stop causing damage and do the thing he has wanted to do since leaving The Forest; leave for Thunderclan.

He's got a LOT of apologizing and making up to do. Leafpool tells him that he needs to earn the right to call himself her mate, and the father of her kits. And by god, does he work.

Breezepelt is very happy with his step-dad, who cherishes him, makes him feel wanted and important, and never puts down a thing Breezepelt loves.

[tumblingxelian]

For the Salty Ask, any fandom:

#1 What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?*

#6 Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?*

#11 Is there an unpopular character you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why?

(Smashes a glass bottle on my face) Let's fucking do this!

#1 What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?*

Gosh there are too many to list in a single post, and a few may get me targeted assassins XD

I'm quite lukewarm on Rei & Mina from Sailor Moon, maybe reflecting that I wasn't super into the manga & only watched some of the live action stuff but still.

Reylo, obviously. Other Star Wars would be Obi-Wan/anyone really, and also the fact people actually treat Anakin and Padme as romantic or like they could have a functional relationship scares me.

If we do a quick drive-by on ATLA, I really don't get why Azula & Aang became so popular, or Zuko & Katara. Or more, the best explanations I have for them still leave me going :/ at best. So there's that.

In Warcraft we have Thrall & Jaina, which is just 100% a case of, "Wow, they sure are standing next to each other" as far as ships go. Also for WOW is Jaina & Sylvanas, I only get it aesthetically, kinda.

Felix & Kagami from ML has me like ???? I didn't watch past S3 though so ??? Also that people treat Gabirel & Emile or Gabriel & Nathalie as like.. healthy is just... What!? I get the ships, I don't get the fanon spin on them.

In Dragon Ball, this one also draws targeting fire, but I never really got Vegeta & Bulma, which is canon I know, but still. A fling is one thing but an actual relationship just leaves me head-scratching. Also not sure if this is still the case, but I recall Gohan & Piccolo as being weirdly popular back in the olden days, and like, what!?

In DC, oh boy, gonna piss some people off with this one, but:

Bruce & any long term relationship, I don't care if its Selina, Talia, Clark, or Diana, or Harvey. This is not a man who can commit to another human being, because he's committed himself to staling the utterly uninterested Gotham City. Anything claiming otherwise is positively incomprehensible to me.

Also I don't grasp why Dick & Babs is so popular, or Tim & Steph, or Tim & Jason. The former has some history, but it so often feels like crow-barring two former high school crushes who have moved on together against their will. The latter is just like,... No, just no.

Within RWBY, if we are strictly going by popular pairs then I really don't get Weiss & Jaune, or Ruby & Jaune. I'm not even talking about like, V2 behavior or whatever, they've all grown, but I don't see how they've grown in a way that leads to these being popular ships. I had a similar stance on Blake & Sun when it was a major player; like attraction can be there without me thinking it works as a ship.

Also Ironwood & Glynda is just like... She could not be more utterly not into him if she tried, why are you people forcing it? Same with Winter & Qrow, their dynamic doesn't even have a fun rivals to lovers vibe to it.

Also as I believe you mentioned but Oscar & Ruby doesn't click with me. Again, I can sort of follow the logic, but I always end up at, "Why is this what you want?" Because to get to it, at least when it comes to the more intense advocates, it usually involved ripping out all the interesting stuff from their dynamic and characters for hurt comfort fic material.

You're gonna kill me.

But I have similar feelings about Ruby & Penny. I can see it more than Oscar & Ruby, but at the same time I just... It doesn't click with me and most stuff I see of it removes all the interesting character drama and dynamics so I get bored outside of a purely aesthetic appreciation level.

#6 Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?*

Sort of an interesting spin on this, I kind of tricked myself into enjoying a ship I previously didn't like through fandom.

Specifically when writing a Sailor Moon fanfic, I tweaked Usagi & Mamoru's dynamic to be a bit more like their mutual antagonism from the early anime, but cos both were on equal footing, I found their banter really enjoyable to write & started vibing with it.

There might be others but I am drawing a blank right now ><

#11 Is there an unpopular character you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why?

Yamcha.

Always Yamcha, forever Yamcha, my poor sweet victim of character desolation, Yamcha!

He's introduced in the comedic part of the series with this premise being that he's a powerful and dangerous bandit, who is chronically shy around girls and is deeply romantic, wanting a family.

He's shown to be a skilled fighter who developed powerful techniques on his own with zero training. He knows tons of martial arts lore, was a nice mix of sensible but brave and basically Goku's big brother.

But he kept getting used as the WORF and then after being killed via kamakaze after stepping up to protect his younger friend from such a fate, he is memed to death by the fandom. & is later characterized as a cheater despite having been nothing but loyal to Bulma across the series. Has his desire for a married life & family surgically removed & given to Krillin, & basically gets treated like trash for the rest of time.

Outside of DB...

Pretty much every character, creature or faction I find interesting in Warcraft is hated or regarded with indifference so that's fun XD

As to specific characters from other series:

Chloe of ML, people hating on an already hated in universe 14 year old whose neglectful, corrupt father left her to be raised by he staff in a room that makes a dentist surgery look homey & who otherwise only taught her the worst lessons imaginable. Along with an emotionally and verbally abusive mother & who was actively groomed by the main villain of the series who has known her since she was a child are just... For fucks sake she's 14.

Lila of ML, she's a messy, confusing ass character cos it seems the writers don't have a solid idea for her. But like, within the first three seasons at least, she's still a 14 year old who has two adults with cameras plated in her room manipulating and controlling her.

Azula of ATLA, another 14 year old who was treat like shit by the adults in her family. She's a weapon to her father, a monster by birth to her mother, "Crazy" to an allegedly kind old uncle who has killed infinitely more people than her & only felt bad when it impacted him. Seriously, fuck all those doing Azula hate. She's a better villain than Ozia, a more merciful and skilled general than Iroh, and seems to have at least some actual loyalty to her family unlike Ursa who only cared about Zuko.

Mai of ATLA, People hate her for her dead pan affect and the fact she's not cradling Zuko's sof lil baby head, and or between him & the ship for him they like. Fuck off again, Mai's fun.

Cinder of RWBY, villains are meant to do bad things. Villains like Cinder do not appreciate being blackmailed. Villains like Cinder don't appreciate people who know their secrets, like using the Lamp, being around to hold it over her head later. She's not stupid, some people just lack media literacy.

Harriet of RWBY, while I get that she's not super popular, I tend to find the level of vitriol she gets uncomfortable at best. Like, it often feels less like people not getting the characters role & more like, some people running will with the chance to be unrelentingly hostile towards a fictional black woman. Elm gets some of this but is more often forgotten.

Talia of DC, there is so much racism both in canon and fanon and its heartbreaking.

[nocturnalghoul]

Mushy May Day 11: First "I love you"/ Unspoken "I love you"s

Aether may be the first to say I love you outloud, but Dew says it back to him tenfold in his actions.

Come get y'alls fluffy Dewther content!

Words: 579

Rating: Gen/Everyone

Read below the cut or on AO3 here

Aether technically says those three little words first on a stargazing date. Dew is laid out on the picnic blanket next to him, brow adorably furrowing in concentration. His eyes scan the sky above, intently tracing imaginary lines between the stars Aether pointed out as belonging to his favorite constellations. 

He watches as the faint glow of the moon illuminates Dew’s lips, showing the way they twitch ever slightly in the suggestion of a name each time he moves to the next constellation. 

It slips out before Aether even knows he opened his mouth. “I love you”. Three dulcet words cutting through the nighttime chorus of frogs and crickets surrounding them. 

He watches the way the other ghouls eyes widen as he turns, corners of his mouth pulling up in surprised delight. All of his gills and fins gently puff up in unison, catching the moonlight in a resplendent display. 

Before Dew has a chance to say anything Aether says it again. “I love you” he declares, firmer this time as he allows one hand to settle along the back of Dew’s neck. “And you don’t need to say it back, honeydew, I already know.”

Dew launches forward closing the small remaining amount of distance between them and capturing Aether is a passionate kiss, snaking his arms lazily around the quintessence ghoul’s neck.

Aether may have said it out loud first, but they both know that Dew has been saying it through his actions for far longer. It only seems fitting that he returns the sentiment in a similar vein to how he’s been voicing his affection all along. 

They go back and forth like this for a while. Aether says “I love you” and other saccharine words in moments of tenderness, and Dew shows Aether that he feels the same through what he does. 

Aether overworks himself yet again and Dew is right there to draw him a hot bath and force him to relax, favorite snacks and a thermos of tea at the ready for afterwards. I love you.

He comes back from an outing with another ghoul and finds the neglected acoustic guitar that lives in the corner of his room has brand new strings and is polished. I love you. 

Late night tender touches and vulnerable expressions, reserved only for Aether to see. I love you 

It is so abundantly clear in everything little thing that Dew does that Aether never feels like he needs the other ghoul to say it. When he finally does though, it feels like a final piece of Aether’s heart has slid into place. 

Dew whispers it almost inaudibly, barely more than an exhale into the crook of Aether’s neck. He had come into the other ghoul’s room immediately upon hearing the telltale scream of him having a night terror, sweeping him up into his arms and whispering sweet tranquil assurances. 

Dew says I love you, and Aether feels all his usual words of adoration slip away into the night as he decides to act out his own devotion for once. 

Aether gently picks Dew up, carrying him to his room and placing him gently on the bed. He watches the way Dew instantly snuggles deeper into his sheets, inhaling deeply to get as much of that comforting scent as possible and smiling fondly. Aether lies down next to him, and holds him tight all throughout the remainder of the night. An unspoken declaration of security- I love you too.