#okay yes I am I’m not fooling anyone

[phantomram-b00]

I know it might be a bit cliche. But I have a headcanon that Aziraphale’s favorite cake is Devil’s food cake meanwhile Crowley’s Angel food cake. Idk why, it make sense in my head.

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reaction to their s/o hiding their sickness

Request: Hello, I was the same anon who requested the safe word reaction. I really liked the way you describe each reaction, so I was thinking of a ot13 reaction for reader hiding their sickness and them discovering, I am craving some comfort being sick and telling nobody about it :/

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope it warms your heart as much as it did mine. Please, remember to take care of yourself—drink lots of water, get plenty of rest, and don’t hesitate to let someone close to you know how you’re feeling. It’s okay to ask for help; the people who care about you want to be there for you, just like you would for them. I believe this turned out beautifully, and there are some (yes, not only one) members part that I absolutely adore. I hope it brings you comfort and joy.

Seungcheol: You’ve been sneezing a lot today, but you brush it off with a weak smile when he asks if you’re okay. Seungcheol can’t ignore it though. "Baby... don’t think you can fool me. You’re sick, aren’t you?” He walks over, wraps a blanket around you, and gently touches your forehead. "You’re not getting away with this. I’m here, okay?" He’ll keep an eye on you for the rest of the day, making sure you have everything you need and probably nagging you to rest. He’s firm but soft, doing everything in his power to make you feel safe and cared for.

Jeonghan: Jeonghan catches on quickly when you start acting off. He notices you barely touching your food and yawning a little too much. His eyes narrow, and before you know it, he’s sitting next to you, "You’re not slick, you know. You’re not fine, are you?" He sighs, wrapping a blanket around you before you can take action. “If you’re not going to tell me, I’m just going to make you relax anyway though I’m a little offended you didn’t tell me.” Though he pretends to tease, his nurturing side takes over. He’ll make sure you’re comfy and always one step ahead in taking care of you.

Joshua: You’ve been trying to hide it, but Joshua knows something’s off. He stops playing his guitar and watches you for a bit, not needing to say a word. "Love, don’t think I didn’t notice," he says gently. When you try to lie, he stops you, ”I don’t want to hear it.” He takes your hand and places it against his chest. “I can tell you’re not feeling well.” He’ll make you a hot drink and quietly stay by your side, serenading you soothingly or just enjoying the silence together. His presence is calming and so he'd remind you it’s okay to rely on him.

Jun: You’re curled up, trying to hide it, but Jun’s a bit too observant. "Y/N... really? Hiding it like this?" He raises an eyebrow crossing his arms and walks over. "I get it, but you’re not fooling anyone." He’ll throw an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a comforting side-hug. Jun wouldn’t waste time—he’d make sure you’re bundled up, bring you some food, and keep an eye on you. "You need rest. Don’t worry about anything, just focus on getting better. I’ll make sure the world doesn't fall apart without you for a bit."

Hoshi: Hoshi is the type to be extra, and when he realizes you’ve been trying to keep it together while clearly not feeling well, he can’t help but fuss over you. "Y/N! No way! You’re sick and didn’t tell me?" He’s already running around the house looking for remedies, and you can hear him loudly talking to the others about how important it is for you to get rest. He’ll make a big fuss—not to overwhelm you, but because he cares so much. Expect him to bring you all the comfort items he can find, sit by your side, and keep you entertained until you’re feeling better.

Wonwoo: Wonwoo is subtle but perceptive. He's a little quiet, but when he notices your tired expression, low energy and pale complexion he’s quick to confirm it. "Babe," he says softly, but there’s a concerned and disappointed look in his eyes. "You’re not feeling well, are you?" He won’t make a big deal of it, but he’ll handle everything. He'll gently guide you to the couch and ask if you need anything. He’ll read a book to you, maybe bring some warm food, and just be there without a lot of fuss, letting you rest in peace.

Woozi: Woozi notices everything. He doesn't’t miss a thing, even if you think you’re hiding it well. The way your energy is low and your voice is soft. "Y/N, stop pretending. You’re obviously sick." He sighs, shaking his head as he grabs a blanket. When you act confused, his tone is sharp, but there’s a softness hidden under it "Why didn’t you tell me? Do you think I wouldn’t care?" He might sound a little stern, but it’s only because he’s worried. He’ll make sure you’re resting properly, practically force you to drink fluids and might even hum a soft tune while working nearby to keep you comfortable. "Rest. No more excuses. You’re not getting better by pretending you’re fine."

Dokyeom: Kyeom's usual first instinct is to make you smile, but when he notices the lack of energy in your usual laugh, he gets concerned. "You’re sick, aren’t you? You can’t hide it from me!" His pout is impossible to ignore as he gathers pillows and blankets for you. He’s extra affectionate, staying close to make sure you’re comfortable and cheering you up with his contagious smile. His efforts might not always work, but he’ll try to keep the mood light while making sure you have everything you need. He'll go around fumbling in the kitchen to make you warm soup, mashed potatoes and what not.

Mingyu: Mingyu’s protective side comes out the second he sees you looking a bit pale. "Hey, no way! Why didn’t you say anything?" He’s getting you comfortable on the bed and running around to grab all the supplies you need. "I know you like being strong, but it’s okay to lean on me. I’ve got your back. Let me take care of you." He’s practically in full-on ‘nurse mode.’ Expect to be babied by a big baby.

Minghao: He’s so observant, you can’t hide it for long. His expression softens when he notices you looking drained. "You’re not okay, are you? Don’t try to deny it." His voice is calm but firm as he gently guides you to rest. He sits next to you and just quietly asks if you need anything. He won’t press you to talk, but he’ll show up with food, a warm blanket, and his presence. He’d literally take care of everything without overwhelming you. "Don’t worry. I’ll be here with you." His way of caring is to help you feel safe and reminding you to prioritize your health.

Seungkwan: Seungkwan is a little dramatic when it comes to taking care of his friends, so once he realizes YOU’RE hiding your sickness, he’s already over the top. "Are you serious right now? You’re sick and didn’t tell me?! Baby, do you know how worried I am?" He’d go all out—making tea, tucking you in, and probably scolding you lightly for not saying anything sooner. But his concern is genuine, and he won’t leave your side until you’re feeling better. He’ll probably sing you some comfort songs though with Seungkwan, you’re not sure if they’ll help you feel better or make you laugh instead.

Vernon: Vernon is the kind of guy who notices when things feel off but doesn’t always know how to approach it. When he figures out you’re sick and you're trying to hide it, he gets a little awkward but tries his best to comfort you. "Okay, Y/N... seriously? You’re sick and didn’t say anything?" He’ll make a comfortable spot for you, but instead of being all mushy, he might throw in a dry joke to ease the mood. He'll bring you water or medicine and making sure you’re resting. He might not say much, but his actions speak louder than words—he’d stick around to keep you company and make sure you’re okay.

Dino: When he realizes you’re trying to hide your sickness, he’ll be the first one to come running. "You’re sick? Why didn’t you tell me?" His tone is full of concern. He’d fuss over you like a protective boyfriend that he is, making sure you’re cozy. He'll try to make you feel better by cracking jokes, bring in your favorite comfort foods, and staying by your side. "I know you’re trying to be tough, but I’ve got you, okay?"

[takemeapart]

fwb to lovers. super short! wrote this quickly but it’s still (mostly) proofread.

modern au. ellie x reader

—

Ellie lays on your chest, her ear right above your heart. You’re both partially unclothed due to fooling around earlier but now you’re cuddled up, legs intertwined under your huge comforter. The steady beat of your heart calms her down some but she still feels anxious. She wants to ask a question that’s been eating at her since shortly after you two started this whole friends with benefits arrangement a month ago.

She knows she doesn’t really have a right to feel jealous. She knows. But it doesn’t stop the ugly feeling from creeping up at the thought of you seeing other people.

Before she can help it, it comes out. “Are you seeing anyone else?” She whispers into the quiet darkness of the room.

She can feel the hand you had raking through her hair stiffen, halting its movement.

“Um… Why do you ask?” You respond, your voice hesitant. Your fingers slowly return to running through her short hair again.

“Curious.” Ellie continues to stay where she’s at, too afraid to see what look you might have on your face. “So?”

She can hear your heartbeat pick up slightly.

“…I am.”

“Oh.” Ellie screws her eyes shut, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. She thought…. Maybe… She actually doesn’t know what she thought. It’s not like she asked to be exclusive but the answer hurts. She thinks she knows why the revelation hurts so bad but she shakes off the thought before she can think too deeply about it. She stays still for a moment, enjoying the warmth of your body before she abruptly sits up. “I have to go.”

She can hear you sit up, your voice laced in confusion as you watch her grab her clothes off the floor. “Wait, why? What’s wrong, El?”

Everything.

“Nothing.” Ellie responds, voice tight, as she hurriedly pulled on her pants.

“Wait.” You crawl near the edge of your bed and reach out for her wrist. Ellie stops at the feel of your warm hand on her, body tense.

You say her name softly and she keeps her eyes forward, refusing to look at you.

You tug her to you, her body in between your legs and your eyes searching her face while she continued to look at everything but you.

“Are you mad at me?” You ask gingerly.

“No.” Ellie says stiffly. “Why would I be mad?” She finally lets her gaze drop to you before looking away again. The way you were looking at her made her feel so vulnerable. She felt like you could probably see right through her. “It’s not like I have any right to be…” She mutters darkly, a frown forming on her face.

“Can you please look at me?” You whisper, tugging at her jeans to get her attention. “Please.” You say lowly.

Ellie looks down at you, her frown still present, waiting for you to say something.

Your cheeks were still a little flushed, your hair mussed up, and your lips still slightly swollen. Ellie felt satisfaction knowing that she was the one who made you look like that but the feeling was short lived when she remembered there was currently someone else out there potentially seeing you like that too.

You looked at her imploringly. “It was one date.”

“Okay.” Ellie resists the strong urge to squirm out of your grasp. She doesn’t really want to hear more.

“Ellie.” You stress, “I’m not sleeping with anyone else but you. And if I was, I would tell you.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want me to stop seeing them?”

Yes. “You’re your own person, I can’t tell you what to do.” Ellie says gruffly, her eyes leaving yours.

She feels you grab her hand in yours. “Ellie.” She can hear the frown in your voice. “If it bothers you, just tell me.”

Ellie returns her gaze back to your face, searching for something. She bites her lips and briefly closes her eyes in defeat, her shoulders slumping forward. “I’m… sorry. I don’t know why I reacted like that.” Lie. She shakes her head. “I just… I don’t…. really like the thought of you with somebody else.”

“Why?” You press, a certain tone to your voice.

“I just said I don’t know.” She says tightly, getting slightly irritated. Did you want her to make a fool out of herself? Want her to confess just so you could possibly reject her? No thanks.

“Okay.” You say delicately, taking a deep breath. “…Can I confess something?” You ask, your hands toying with her fingers as you gaze up at her.

Ellie gives you a wary look. “…What?”

“I don’t really like the thought of you with somebody else either.”

Ellie feels her heart skip a beat. Although she feels a bit hypocritical, she still asks: “Why?”

“Because I like you.” You said simply.

“Oh.” Ellie blinks. She feels her face flush once your words actually sink in. Her heart feels like it’s going to fall out of her ass. You liked her. You actually liked her. How was it so easy for you to say it? How were you so brave?

You tug her closer, your arms wrapping around her as you press your face into her torso. “So don’t leave.” You mumble into the cotton of her shirt. “Or I’ll be really sad.”

Ellie lets a small smile spread on her lips as she looks down at you. She’s hesistant to fall back into the easy intimacy you two shared but still reaches a hand out to smooth over your hair. “Okay.”

“You didn’t say it back.” You mumble into her chest, tightening your arms around her waist.

Ellie takes a deep breath. If you could be brave, she could be brave too. “I like you too... I…I want to be exclusive.” She whispers nervously.

You pull back, looking up at her. “Okay.”

Wow, that wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be. So she presses on, feeling more comfortable and confident in expressing her desires.

“And… I want to take you on a date.”

You smile and Ellie melts. “Okay.”

“And… I want you to be my girlfriend.” Ellie adds, her hand cupping your cheek.

You laugh, placing your hand over hers. “Woah, you’re full of demands today.”

Ellie pouts at you. “Is that a no?” Maybe she pushed her luck with that last request.

You pull her down for a short kiss before pulling away slightly. “Ask me again after our date.” You whisper against her lips.

Ellie bites her lips and nods. At least it’s not a no.

You pull away from her and crawl back under your sheets, patting the spot beside you. “Now take your pants off and get back in here.”

Ellie laughs and kicks off her pants, “Now look who’s making demands.”

“Oh, shut up. I really can’t believe you were going to just run away like that instead of talking to me.”

Ellie lets out an embarrassed groan, crawling in and cuddling into your side. “I was scared. I didn’t think you liked me like that.” She mumbles into your skin.

“Well, I do.”

You two lay in comfortable silence for a moment.

“…I’m happy.” Ellie whispers, her hand sliding under your shirt to clutch at your side.

You kiss her forehead. “I’m happy too.”

[disasterofastory]

Wifey duties (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Wifey duties Benedict Bridgerton x Reader Warnings: Reader is drunk

Summer: You go home to your husband after a night out with the ladies.

Benedict can hear your approach even before you appear at the entrance of your shared bedroom. His eyes are on the door. The thick book he read a few minutes ago is long forgotten on his lap. Amusement spreads across his chest when he hears you walking against a small table in the hallway. His shoulders shake with laughter. "Damn it," you grunt. Something falls off the table. "Shit." "Y/N?" He asks a bit louder so you can hear him. "Are you okay?" You don't answer immediately, but your head soon peeks out from behind the wall. You seem surprised.

And drunk.

There is a hazy glint in your eyes, and your hair is a mess from adjusting it so often through the night. A few curls hang in front of your face. "I'm fine," you reply. It almost sounds like a question. "Are you sure?" He asks, grinning. "Do you need my help?" After looking back at the table one last time, you make your way into the room with a soft scoff. "I'm fine. Thank you." "Okay."

Oh, he is so ready for the show.

He watches you in silence the whole time while you take off your clothes. Your dress pools around your legs, and Benedict is afraid you will break your arms as you untie the corset on your back. He isn't even sure if you should be able to do that. Your movements are too confident in contrast to how clumsy you are. Quiet groans and cussings leave your lips every now and again as you walk back and forth in the room. Soon, your hair is free from pins, and your face is clean from makeup. A relieved sigh escapes your chest as you put down the brush on the table, but when you turn around, your eyes widen at the sight of your husband. "Benedict!" You grin when you move on from your surprise. "Hey!" "Hey, my love," he laughs. "Do you want to come to bed?"

He doesn't have to ask twice. You land on the soft sheets with another grunt, and he has to help you adjust the blanket on you. His book falls to the ground, and none of you move to pick it up. Your husband's hands are too busy tucking you in until you are cocooned into the warmth that smells like him. "So, how was your night?" He asks after a few minutes. His long fingers caress the line of your jaw. He plays with your hair behind your ear. "Good," you reply. "Lady Danbury makes great drinks." "I'm sure," he hums, smiling. "How much did you drink?" "It was my duty as your wife," you state, and he laughs. "Was it?" "Yes," you nod confidently. "And I'm good with cards. I win some money." Your husband's shocked laugh can be heard all around the house. "What?" "Yes, and I boasted about how great my husband is." "In front of my mother?" He doesn't even know if he should laugh or cry. Your eyes widen, and you look around the room as if somebody could hear you. "Not the naughty bits," you whisper loudly. Then and there, Benedict is sure he never saw anyone as sweet as you. "And talking about the naughty bits…" Before your husband knows it, you are already on top of him. Your lips are pulled into a sultry smile. Your hair frames your heated cheeks. "I have other wifey duties, I believe." "Y/N, I don't think-" You frown. "Are you really going to reject your wife, Benedict Bridgerton?" The man frowns too. "What am I? A fool?"

The only thing that can stop your laugh is Benedict's lips on yours.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Seven

Steve squints at him, “like, right now? Right this second, you can hear Billy, he’s like, in your head?”

Do you think he’s finally getting it? We’ve been over this like, forty times.

“Yeah. Right now. He’s here.”

“Do you...are you having any urges to hit me over the head with a plate?”

Yes.

“No.”

“Right...and...does anyone else know?”

“Yeah, we told Max, and the little super hero just knew.”

Steve smiles, “right, of course she did.”

Finally.

It’s a lot for anyone to take in, alright? We’ve had ages to get used to it. Give him a minute.

“That’s...you’re talking to him, aren't you? I knew something was up, you get this like, cross eyed look on your face. You’re talking, inside your head?”

“Yeah.”

“I...oh. Can you tell him I’m...I’m really sorry about. Everything. The Mindflayer. I know it wasn’t him in control you know, I don’t blame him for anything,” Steve winces, “shit, he got hit by his own car. Fuck. I’m real sorry, can you tell him-”

“He can hear you. Don’t worry.”

“Right. Okay. Well, I’m sorry.”

I can’t believe he ever had me fooled. King Steve. Pffft what a joke.

Eddie snorts a laugh, “sorry he’s just-”

“Making fun of me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, kind of, sorry.”

I’m not sorry.

They sit quiet for a second, “so you, uhm, you were going to leave because of Billy, right?”

“It’s. I guess it’s a little complicated.”

“Yeah. I can’t imagine Billy Hargrove is interested in watching us mack on each other.”

Don’t you dare.

Eddie sighs, so what can I tell him?

There’s nothing to tell, you bailed, not me.

Because you looked upset.

So? I’m not running the show any more, am I? It’s your life Munson, you should do whatever the fuck you like.

Not if it makes you upset.

“I’ll just...leave you guys to talk?”

Look, it doesn’t fucking matter, alright, you should just...have your happy ever after, or whatever the fuck it is you want.

Steve knows you’re there now...we could. Work something out? Maybe? The three of us?

Billy scoffs. As Steve walks by, Eddie grabs his hand, “just...sit with us a minute, I’m trying to work this out.” Can I at least tell him you like guys? So he knows it’s not that? That that isn’t your problem, I mean?

Fine.

“Billy likes guys and girls, he doesn’t care that we’re both guys.”

“Oh. Oh, that’s...good?”

I should have stayed. The bats were better company than this.

“Yeah, Steve, that’s good.”

They sit in silence for another few seconds.

“I mean, I like you Eddie, and I still want too,” he gestures vaguely, “but I get if it’s weird, you know? And you don’t...want to. Or...I would get it if Billy doesn’t want to? I figured he never really liked me, so I’d understand.”

Billy is suspiciously very silent.

“Why do you think he doesn’t like you?” Don’t you like him?

“Well he was always just...a bit of a prick, really.”

“He’s always a bit of a prick, it’s how he shows affection,” it’s a complete joke, Eddie doesn’t mean it at all, but the moment it’s out of his mouth he’s hit with a realization. Do you like Steve?

Shut up.

“Oh...he’s...I think he was mean to you because he liked you?”

Steve frowns, “what, like pulling my hair and running away? Did he...did he say that?”

“No. He’s being real quiet, and he’s never really quiet so that makes me think I’m right-” Oh my god. Yes. Fine. Happy now? “- I am right. Steve and Billy, sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G-”

Billy sighs, real loud, really put upon. Steve blushes and looks at where Eddie is still holding his fingers.

“So...Billy likes you, and I like you, so are you still game for, you know, giving this thing a try?”

“Only if you’re both...sure?”

“I’m sure. Billy?”

Look, this isn’t up to me, you guys should just-

Eddie sighs, “Billy, come on.”

I- I mean I’m not exactly going to say no, am I? You’re hot. Harrington’s hot. I guess you’re both...okay.

Eddie grins, “you think I’m hot.”

Shut up.

“That’s so weird, you guys are...talking.”

“I can see him sometimes too, when I look in a mirror, he’s there with me. And I could,” Eddie feels himself blush, then fiddles with Steve’s fingers for a distraction, “I could feel it, when he touched me, but we haven't like- that’s only happened once, and it was kind of tingly. I couldn’t tell if it was like, in my head because I could see it or...you know? We haven't worked it out. Might just be my brain playing tricks.”

Steve thinks for a second, frowning, “the mirror in my en suite is a pretty decent size, you want to try?”

“Sure? Billy?”

Fine, whatever, Eddie can almost feel him rolling his eyes.

“Yeah,” Eddie relays.

Steve grins, “cool.”

When Steve leans forward and kisses him, Eddie’s sure he hears Billy rumble a pleased sound.

[yumecel]

Closer to God ❤️

yandere wriothesley / reader | 3k words

summary: the duke finds himself fascinated with you. to an almost unhealthy degree. scratch that, it is unhealthy. but in the underground world of vitamin D deficiencies, questionable mystery meats, and near-agoraphobia towards the overworld, does the “health” of one’s desires really matter so much?

character specifics: uhhh i think nothing but so heavily written from reader’s perspective that you may not feel his essence is fully Captured

reader specifics: female reader girl/she/wife terms

world specifics: i have no idea how fontaines legal system works and it will show. hinted matchmaker sigewinne but don’t hate her

tws: yandere, non con kissing, stalking

a/n: i could chew through fucking steel right now i am so full of lust and felt possessed to write something to this iconic song despite there being NO ACTUAL SMUT sorry.

i promise i’m 18+, i promise i’m okay with seeing dark content, i know this will haunt me in the world to come should i lie [yes⬇️] [no↩️]

——❤️——

You have been instructed to deliver his tea. The box feels like it’s more valuable than your entire existence, all gold-trimmed edges and swirling designs. That’s probably why it was entrusted into your hands when the usual runners are preoccupied.

Probably.

But it’s the third errand this week, and it seems so unnecessary for you personally to run it. And your sentence will be over in six weeks. And seeing the Duke now only makes your anxiety spike, lest you stumble straight into a crime you wouldn’t even know you were committing and somehow end up extending your sentence.

He’s not like that. Surely not. But you’ve been worrying.

Something in his bone-chilling gaze towards you betrays his casual demeanour. It’s the same something in the forced lingering, the excuses. The ways that he swindles you into staying in his office for an hour or two when you want to leave. Today is no different. One of the teas comes such a long way, you see, all the way from Inazuma, and you must indulge in a cup and let him know your opinion on it. Is it similar to the last one from Liyue? They have different methods of drying out the leaves. Did you drink any of it when you were in the overworld?

You always answer his questions the best you can. It’s easiest when they’re all small talk like this, and you’re not trying to play oblivious at his advances. There’s going to be a further advance soon, you can feel it.

It’s six weeks until the end of your sentence and Wriothesley’s interest in you seems foolish. With a little luck, you’ll never return to the Fortress of Meropide in your life. You did everything right, you deserve to leave, surely?

But you know that Wriothesley is no fool, and that he would not be playing these games so boldly if he was not certain to win.

——❤️——

Eleven months ago, you didn’t make much conversation with anyone in the prison. You did what you always thought you should do in a prison; kept your head down, worked hard, and didn’t associate too intimately with anyone.

Ten months ago, you had started to assume Sigewinne pitied you, or whatever the closest melusine approximation to “pity” was. Somehow designated to running errands for the infirmary, you talked to her more than any of the prisoners. Though you were grateful for her support, you kept displaying the autonomy and dignity that would let her know you were of the composition that didn’t desire company. It wouldn’t fool a melusine as observant as Sigewinne. You knew this. But you persisted, holding onto shreds of pride.

Nine months ago, Sigewinne had managed to get you to open up. You had believed at the time you were contributing to her understanding of human emotions, but now you suspect that she had motives of helping you.

“As for why I don’t really talk to anyone outside of working, well, I… I’m still processing everything. I feel like people won’t accept what I did, and get the same pushback I felt from people up there and I just… can’t relive that. People that I thought would understand didn’t, and it’s been difficult to recover trust in others.”

Sigewinne’s eyes examined you thoroughly. You maintained a perfectly still expression, under the impression that her observations of your face were for her research.

“Hmm… what if someone was guaranteed to understand you?

You took a little time to think before answering, “I think it would help. But I doubt I would personally pursue someone like that.”

“You wouldn’t?” Sigewinne queried.

“I wouldn’t. And I don’t know where I would find someone who understood.”

“Where indeed…” she whispered, more to herself than you, eyes flitting back to yours. A slight raise of the eyebrows indicated that she had come to a conclusion about something, and you weren’t sure about what. You were just happy to help, and it didn’t occur how deeply you had revealed your emotions until later.

Eight months ago, you had started running errands for Wriothesley. This followed a mixup with your records, where Sigewinne accepted blame for not filing your work hours accurately as your manager. The Duke himself had to personally review your entire record in prison to confirm that there were no inconsistencies. You were a little embarrassed by the whole thing, though Sigewinne insisted she was entirely at fault and deeply sorry. You didn’t blame her as it was an exceedingly rare mistake on her part. If anything, you were a little touched that Sigewinne cared so deeply about this. Also, the apology cake from the overworld certainly washed away any remaining feelings of irritation you held.

Eventually, you found yourself walking into the Duke’s office like Sigewinne had told you to, hands clasped in front of you. “Sigewinne sent me, Your Grace.”

“Oh, (Y/N). Thank you for coming along. I just need you to read some documents and sign them.” He said, motioning to three papers on his desk.

Hearing your name spill from his mouth so casually felt surreal. Nevertheless, you took timid steps forward and examined the documents.

“Sigewinne speaks highly of you, you know.”

Unsure how exactly to respond, you paused for a moment. “I’m glad she does, Your Grace.”

You continued examining the documents, quickly signing the first one off.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I need someone trustworthy to help me hand some medical records to Sigewinne for me. Well, maybe “hand” is an understatement.”

In your peripheral vision, you catch the way he gestures towards some boxes, more than one person could reasonably move at a time.

Ink meets paper on the second document.

“Of course. I’d be more than willing to help.”

“Ah, great. Our head nurse is capable, but I’d just feel bad making her carry these on her own.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“I knew you would.” The Duke says.

Silence hangs in the air. You pull the final document closer towards you to interrupt the unbearable quiet. Eventually, you make the final signature and turn around, moving towards the boxes.

The files look rather haphazardly thrown in, papers sticking out from their respective folders. That’s when the Duke approaches from behind, placing a hand gently on your shoulder. Not expecting the touch, you jump slightly, and then pretend to act like it never happened. He felt it though. He couldn’t have not felt it.

“Also, maybe you could do me another favour and help me sort these before we give them back to her?”

There is nothing else to do other than nod and say, “Of course, Your Grace.”

Eight months ago you learned that the Duke is exceptionally chatty around you. Eight months ago, your work became more divided between his office and Sigewinne’s infirmary.

Seven months ago, you had first divulged information about your crime to the Duke.

“What are you in for?” is a common enough question in the Fortress of Meropide. His Grace has never asked you it, and he wouldn’t need to either. And yet, his speech is peppered with implications about your crime that you can either refute or accept. You had dodged every hidden question artfully, and he would be very blatant about acknowledging this, saying you didn’t have to answer if you didn’t want to. Comforted by this, you had started trusting him.

Seven months ago, you had started trusting Wriothesley, and that had been a mistake.

Of course he already knew your crime. How could he not? A murder in self defence is quite a notable trial in the overworld regardless, and nothing in the underworld slips past Wriothesley.

You may have been a free woman if it was simpler. If the man in that alleyway had been less beloved by his community, if you had not ran away from the crime in fear, if you submitted evidence at the time, if being dragged back to Fontaine was never part of the ordeal. If it hadn’t divided the people around you over whether you should’ve really did it.

If they just understood.

You accepted the sentence nonetheless. Evading the court is a crime in itself, and in that respect you could be considered a prolific criminal.

Sat in his office, you had retold the tale.

Wriothesley understood.

——❤️——

Six months ago, you had entertained the thought of Wriothesley as a fling.

Your heart wanted emotional connection, your brain knew it would be unreasonable to pursue a long term relationship. And your pussy really just liked the idea of him pinning you down and fucking you like an animal.

Some of his little gestures towards you supported this notion. A hand on the small of your back, maybe going a little low, the warmth of his presence behind you. The leering that’d stop when you picked your head up, but you still caught in reflections and out of the corner of your eye. The occasional innuendos. Wriothesley is fairly down-to-earth all the time, but with you, some more primal desires seep through.

But sometimes, it was different. The way he’d sweep hair away from your face. The possessiveness around you when other prisoners- now seemingly assuming you were a member of staff rather than an actual prisoner- talked to you. Always played off as professionalism. And the endless desire to know exactly what you were up to, inside and out.

Noting this, you were a little less reciprocative of his hints, afraid of feelings being hurt. He seemed to accept it. You were friends now. You knew about his crimes, which he had confided to you in private. He knew everything there was to know about yours. You would come to chat over tea. You continued working with Sigewinne, but saw her less. Wriothesley dominated most of your waking moments.

But the possessiveness didn’t stop, and the curiosity was starting to become intrusive.

——❤️——

Four months ago, you had learned that Wriothesley personally went through all of your mail.

All mail of yours was immediately forwarded to his office, where it would be opened and sent back to the mailroom. You had only found this out when you wandered into the mailroom and inquired about the mail, expecting a monthly letter from your family that was a little late.

“Oh, I take it she’s one of your patients? All of that mail gets forwarded to the Duke first. Guess there was a contraband incident or something. Anyway, don’t have it.”

It was information the attendant would have never divulged to you if he realised who you were. You blended in so well as a member of staff that people had started to see you as a nursing attendant before anything else. The clothes you now wore that treaded the line between prisoner and staff member were another layer of this disguise, courtesy of Wriothesley. Now, it was working against him.

Despite how perturbed you were, you managed a, “Oh, thank you for telling me.”, and immediately darted towards Wriothesley’s office, knocking with a shaking hand before you heard him telling you to come in.

“How nice it is to see you on your day off. Take it you missed me?” He said, closing his book and getting up to get another cup. It’s like a routine to him, and one he’s very comfortable doing.

“Well, I do have a reason to be here.”

“Cold. Well, let me pour you a cup, and you can tell me all about it. It’s Chenyu adeptea today.”

After getting seated and engaging in a few pleasantries with him, you pose your question, about if what you heard in the mailroom was really true.

He doesn’t deny it.

With a piercing gaze that doesn’t deviate from yours, he says, “Hm. I didn’t want to worry you at the time, but dangerous contraband came through in a parcel addressed to you a couple months back, and I’ve been going through it ever since.”

A reasonable explanation, you suppose. But why keep it from you this long? Surely he must understand this is a betrayal of your trust?

You remain quiet, still trying to process everything.

“My apologies if your feelings are hurt, but I acted in your best interests. I promise that.”

Your fingers glide along the edge of the teacup. “That’s alright. I shouldn’t have doubted your reasoning.”

You finish the cup of tea over lighter conversation, until just before leaving, you pose one last question.

“Ah, uh, you don’t go through my outgoing mail too, right?”

Wriothesley chuckles dryly with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “There’s no reason to do that, is there?”

You’ve known him too long, been confined in his presence with nothing else to do but observe. His perceptiveness is second to none, but you’ve trained yourself. Dodging the question is suspicious. As you close the door to his office, there is no doubt in your mind that he reads every letter you send.

It didn’t surprise you that the mail attendant you first spoke to seemed to no longer work in the mailroom when you next approached it.

——❤️——

It was difficult to remain amicable after that, but you tried your best. Treading a thin line between not upsetting him (not that he’d ever show it) and not allowing him to encroach further on your personal life, you may as well have been walking on the edge of a knife.

The advances started again. He’s more demanding of your time. Sigewinne simply lets you off work to do whatever he demands. She seems to believe there’s something amusing in all of this, and you don’t dare confide in her about your discomfort around the Duke. You don’t think she’d be playing on your side.

Two months ago, he started getting far too touchy. He wants to be next to you, he finds any excuse to put a hand on you, rub your back, your shoulder, the top of your hand- all gestures of comfort that come across more like domination and marking territory. You don’t feel like you can tell him to stop. He has too much power, and you don’t wish to interfere with it. The reality of who he is seems more imposing than ever, and you steel yourself, trying to remain as professional and inoffensive as possible.

The clock ticks down. Less and less days to the end of your sentence.

——❤️——

Two weeks now remain of your time in the Fortress of Meropide.

“I think you might owe me something for that.” Wriothesley says.

You stare down at the cards scattered across the table, remnants of a finished game that Wriothesley had won. He looks slightly smug about it. It’s only been a few rounds, too. He’s often happy to play many more.

“Like what?”

“Something I’ve always wanted.”

You look up at him, seeing his hand beckon you closer. You get up slowly, carefully stepping around the table. He pats the sofa beside him and the world around you starts to feel dreamlike as you sit down.

His hand touches just under your chin, thumb stroking your jaw, before reaching up steadily to your lips. You know what comes next, and shut your eyes as his lips eventually meet yours. Obediently, you kiss back until he pulls away. When your eyes meet, you immediately look down, observing how his hand was now on your thigh, touching lightly.

You gasp as he squeezes, feeling his gaze remain on you. “I… I’m not sure if we should be doing this. I’m l-leaving soon, and I don’t want anyone’s feelings to get hurt.”

“Leaving to where?”

Your blood runs a little cold then, but you steady yourself. “The overworld.”

“You don’t have to.”

Making an earnest attempt to get him to sympathise with you, to understand like he always has, you place your own hand on top of his. “I think I do. I’ve served my sentence with the intention of getting out of this place. I need to go back up. Reintegrate before I forget how.”

Wriothesley doesn’t understand.

When you look up, he’s now looking right through you, into space, into nothingness. “I guess you’re not going to make this easy.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.” You say, roughly swallowing. Against your will, you do understand. You always do.

“We’re made for each other. Circumstance is a powerful thing, (Y/N). If it wasn’t for circumstance, you wouldn’t be in jail. You wouldn’t be like me. I wouldn’t be here either. Two people, who can perfectly understand each other, in the same place. But I suppose you don’t think that’s something worth pursuing?”

“I can’t be here forever.” You reply definitively.

“Don’t exaggerate things, now. I do go up to Fontaine every now and then, you know.”

“You know what I mean.”

Wriothesley sighs.

“I guess I can have your sentence extended. I didn’t want to play that card, but…”

“I- I’ll report you to any authority that will listen!” You exclaim, retracting away from him in horror.

“And it’ll be your word against mine. Wonder how that would work out.” He states, as if he was simply pondering the results of the card game.

Tears have started falling from your eyes. A wave of nausea rolls over your entire body as a thumb gently swipes over your cheeks. You’re utterly stunned and lost for words, slowly collapsing into yourself. Wriothesley takes the opportunity to inch closer and wrap his arms around you, letting you freely sob into his shoulder. There is nothing else to do. His arms are like a prison, and his hot breath is tickling against your ear.

“You’ll understand in time. For now, let’s calm down and maybe we can start preparing for your permanent residence, huh?”

As another sob emerges, his hand rubs your back with overwhelming tenderness.

[loverangels]

I got Leo x Adopted daughter of Hera. Basically the girl (or reader up too you) is basically just a mortal who can see through the mist and hera is like 'that's my kid now' and then time skip and Hera is like 'erm I heard you're dating Leo so I want to meet him' and then that's my idea. Ba bam. 🥸

meeting the family

pairings: leo valdez x fem!reader

a/n: I think I fell in love with this ask. I can totally see Leo and hera having the most intense beef with each other 😭 also in this I kind ofade it so Leo and hera have never met.....hope you don't minddd!!

You adjusted the hem of your shirt nervously, your stomach twisting into knots. "So," you began, glancing over at Leo, who was fiddling with a random bolt from his tool belt, "any advice for meeting a literal goddess? Or... is this just going to be as disastrous as I think?"

Leo grinned at you, his dark brown eyes glinting with mischief. "Babe, you’re talking to the king of disasters. If anyone can charm Hera, it’s me. The gods love me."

You raised an eyebrow, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, really? Like when Zeus almost fried you with a lightning bolt?"

"Hey," Leo protested, pointing the bolt at you, "that was a misunderstanding! Zeus can’t take a joke." He hesitated, his grin faltering slightly. "But Hera… she’s, uh, a whole different level of terrifying. She already doesn’t like me, does she?"

"She doesn’t like anyone," you muttered, chewing your lip. "She’s... protective. Especially of me. You’re the first person I’ve dated since she, you know, claimed me."

Leo blinked, and then smirked. "Claimed you? What, like, ‘that’s my mortal now’? She stamped you or something?"

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, Leo. I have a tattoo that says 'Property of Hera.' Very funny."

Before Leo could make another smart remark, the air in front of you shimmered, and your heart sank. Hera didn’t need an invitation. She never did.

The goddess materialized in a flurry of peacock feathers, her golden eyes fixed on you with an unnerving intensity. She was breathtaking, her presence radiating power, but the thin line of her lips told you she wasn’t here for pleasantries.

"Child," Hera greeted, her tone cool and regal. Her gaze flicked to Leo, who stood frozen, bolt still in hand. "And you must be the boyfriend."

"Uh," Leo started, quickly stuffing the bolt back into his tool belt, "hi, Your Majesty. Big fan. Love what you’ve done with, uh, peacocks?"

You smacked your forehead. Hera’s expression didn’t change, though you swore her eye twitched.

"Charming," she said dryly, crossing her arms. "So, this is the one you’ve chosen?"

"Mom," you groaned, immediately regretting it. Hera raised an eyebrow at the title, but she didn’t correct you. "Can we just... not do this? Please?"

Leo, seemingly unbothered, stepped forward with a cocky grin. "So, uh, Mrs. Hera—"

"It’s just Hera," she cut in sharply.

"Right, Hera," Leo continued, undeterred. "I know you’re, like, super protective of your kid here, but I promise, I’m not that bad. I mean, sure, I’ve accidentally blown up a few things—"

"A few things?" you muttered under your breath.

"—but I’ve got a good heart. I’d never let anything happen to her. I swear."

Hera’s gaze bored into him, and for a moment, you thought she might smite him on the spot. Instead, she smiled—a cold, calculating smile that sent shivers down your spine.

"Tell me, Leonardo," she said, her voice deceptively sweet. "Do you always think so highly of yourself?"

Leo blinked, his confidence faltering for a split second. "Uh, well, yeah? I mean, I’m pretty great. People say I’m funny, smart, devilishly handsome—"

"Modest," Hera added, her tone laced with sarcasm.

You groaned, stepping between them before the situation could escalate. "Okay, that’s enough. Leo, stop talking. Hera, please don’t kill my boyfriend. Can we just... get along for five minutes?"

Hera sighed, her gaze softening ever so slightly as she looked at you. "For you, child, I will tolerate him. But do not think I am fooled by his... charms."

"Charming is kind of my thing," Leo quipped, earning a sharp glare from both you and Hera. "Okay, shutting up now."

To your surprise, the meeting didn’t go as badly as you’d feared. Sure, there were a few tense moments (like when Leo accidentally implied that Hera’s sacred cows were overrated), but by the end of it, things had smoothed over.

You should have known it wouldn’t stay smooth for long. Somehow, Hera had conjured up a lavish dining room that looked like it belonged in Mount Olympus itself—probably because it did. The table stretched endlessly, laden with food that looked too perfect to be real. You sat between Hera and Leo, the tension thick enough to cut with a celestial blade.

"So," Hera began, delicately slicing into what looked like ambrosia-glazed salmon. "Leonardo, tell me. What exactly do you bring to this relationship?"

Leo froze mid-bite of something that looked suspiciously like roast pheasant. He swallowed and grinned. "Oh, you know, the usual. Genius inventor, dragon mechanic, hero. And I’m not bad to look at either, if I do say so myself."

Hera’s golden eyes narrowed. "Yes, I’m sure your... charisma will save her in a battle against monsters."

"Hey, my dragon helped defeat giants," Leo countered, gesturing with his fork. "And I built him from scratch, thank you very much."

"And yet," Hera said, taking a slow sip from her golden goblet, "your dragon has also exploded... how many times?"

"Okay, that was one time," Leo argued.

"Three," you muttered, earning a betrayed look from Leo.

"Thank you, child," Hera said with a nod. "At least someone here is honest."

Leo opened his mouth to retort, but you shot him a warning glare. "Can we please just have a nice dinner? Without bickering?"

"But bickering is how I show affection," Leo quipped, leaning back in his chair. "Isn’t that right, Your Majesty?"

Hera’s lips twitched, though whether it was a smile or the beginning of a smite, you couldn’t tell. "How charming," she said flatly.

The rest of dinner passed in much the same way: Leo making snarky comments, Hera responding with icy jabs, and you desperately trying to keep the peace. By the time dessert rolled around, you were ready to crawl under the table.

As you said your goodbyes, Hera pulled you into a hug—a rare show of affection that left you momentarily stunned. "You’ve chosen well," she whispered in your ear, so softly that even Leo couldn’t hear. "But don’t let it go to his head."

When she pulled back, her regal mask was firmly in place once more. She turned to Leo, her gaze piercing. "Take care of her, Leonardo. Or you will answer to me."

Leo saluted, a nervous grin on his face. "Yes, ma’am. Loud and clear."

As Hera vanished in a swirl of feathers, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Leo slipped an arm around your shoulders, his grin returning full force.

"Well," he said, "that went better than I expected. I think she likes me."

"She doesn’t hate you," you corrected. "That’s a win."

"Close enough." Leo leaned down to kiss your temple, his voice warm. "See? I told you I’d charm her."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Let’s just get out of here before she changes her mind."

[honeylullaby]

“You deserve a real man.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggestion by a sweet anon 🫶🏽 / Hopelessly convinced you’re destined to be alone, Rupert shows you that you couldn’t be further from the truth…

18+ FANFIC / Soft & protective Rupert 🥺 Reader character aged at 21. Hope you enjoy! 🩷

As winter began its acquisition of Rutshire, the bluebell woods had transformed into a frosted palace of violet bottles, the imposing tree branches billowed majestically in the wind and the iced ground crunched beneath your feet. Wrapped up carefully in a paprika-orange woollen jumper, blue mom jeans and black boots, you shuddered under the cold as you watched a grey squirrel flitter across the frosted grass. Your cheeks were mottled with red, incoming tears stinging your eyes against the chilled air. You had been on three dates since living in Rutshire, and every single one had left you down-trodden and weary, them attempting to coax you into bed after a few drinks. What if you’ll be seen this way forever, destined to a life of being holed up in your thatched cottage alone?

The spirited squirrel darted across the field at the sound of a thunderous bark. Turning your head, you observed the most beautiful Blue Lurcher bounding after it, tail wagging furiously. “Blue!” A husky, authoritative voice yelled after him, their footsteps crunching under the frost as they sprinted after them. Blue rescinded his torment of the squirrel, and instead took to stretching his legs and running laps across the field instead. “Well hello, darling.” The man spoke, catching up with you now and looking down at you. “Whatever’s the matter? Cold?” He asked, using his thumb to wipe away a salty tear from the corner of your eye. “Rupert! No, I’m fine.” You snapped, bunching your jumpers’ sleeves over your wrists and patting your eyes dry. “Is he yours?” You asked, pointing over at Blue. “Yes. He’s rather something, isn’t he?” Rupert smiled adoringly at his favourite pup.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He added, glaring down at you, his chiselled features softening. Your face was scrubbed clean of makeup and you allowed your espresso-brown curls to bound over your shoulders, untameable and majestic. “I went on a date today. It was going… okay, until he had one too many gins and told me that, whilst I was moderately attractive, I am by no means attractive enough to be with.” You whimpered, his harsh words replaying themselves constantly. Slightly embarrassed, you failed to mention that the date had also informed you that your nose was too upturned, your skin appeared blemished by freckles and your makeup was most unslightly. Rupert’s face contorted in anger. How could anyone say such a thing, and to you? He could only notice, all too well, that you had the most adorable button nose and a smattering of freckles across your nose and cheeks that he’d adore to kiss, one by one.

“Well, he’s a fool. He would be immensely lucky to have you.” Rupert snapped, contemplating how easy it would be to track down the man and make him regret his words. “Nobody my age gives me a second glance. If someone like him thinks I’m not good enough, who will? What if I end up dying, alone and unloved and… and utterly unattractive?” You splutter through emerging tears, hyperventilating frantically. Without a second thought, Rupert took you into his arms, cradling you protectively. Your head rested against his chest, accelerated heartbeat instantaneously returning to its rhythmic thump as you inhaled Rupert’s musky aftershave. “Angel, don’t be absurd. You,” Rupert announced as he peeled you from his chest and held you at arms length, “are exquisite. I never thought I’d find myself saying this, but I marvel at your beauty.” Rupert expressed, feeling his core melt as the wintery sky illuminated your cerulean eyes.

“You’re just saying that.” You sniffled in response. “This boy that you went on a date with has absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. You deserve a real man. A man would never treat you like that.” He frowned, and removed his grip from your shoulders. Little, delicate snowflakes had begin to fall, settling softly on the ground, falling your wispy eyelashes and creating a crown of frost on your hair. “What man is going to want me?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes to the heaven. Inching towards you, Rupert raked his hand through the silken tresses of your hair, stroking his thumb against your mottled cheek. The breath caught in your throat — longing for his caress to last for eternity. With stifled breath, Rupert leant into you and delivered a tender kiss upon your lips. As you exhaled and relented to his advances, Rupert grew more passionate — enveloping you in his arms and growing more lustful is his kiss. You never wanted him to let go.

Eventually, he pulled away, his intent forever marked upon your lips. “I couldn’t think of better lips I would want to kiss for the rest of my life. I will show you how a real man should treat you.” Rupert grinned, and for the first time today, you allowed a small smirk to tug at the corners of your lips. You were now so immensely grateful that your date had failed — Rupert was all you ever needed.

[aquagirl1978]

OMG !!! requests are open (and idk what's the right way to request but imma try :3) ahem, miss aqua may i please have william (ikevil) + wearing his clothes?

I added my own prompt, is that okay? :]

Hellooooo Inky! Thank you for this request - I had fun with this one. Maybe too much fun. I had so many different ideas as to where I could go with this, maybe one day I'll write some of those alternate scenes. Hope you enjoy this 😊

This Kiss

A/N: Part of my Naughty or Nice event. Pairing: William Rex x Reader (William's POV) Prompt: wearing his clothes Word Count: 1017 Tags: fluff

I was on my way back to the castle when I heard the most beautifully sweet music drifting through the gardens. Recognizing the melody, I smiled and hurried my pace; my robin was playing for me and I mustn’t make her wait.

I stood at the doorway, silently observing you, savoring every second you played. When we first met, you couldn’t play a single note. But look at you now – no longer my student, you’re now a master of the music you make. So determined to learn, you practiced at a dizzying pace until you were able to play even complex pieces on your own. Watching you grow as a musician, I grew prouder every day, even after that day when you were able to play without me by your side.

I knew as soon as I sat down next to you that you were up to something; why else would you lure me in with the first piece of music I taught you to play? The small glances you stole – quick, sneaky, happy glances – did not go unnoticed by me. And when your gaze drifted from my eyes, from my face, and lingered elsewhere, that was all the confirmation I needed.

I sat quietly after you finished playing;  you led me here, you were in charge.

“I thought we’d play a game today,” you said, your voice quiet as if you were suddenly a bit shy. Maybe rethinking your idea. 

Sing louder, my shy, sweet robin. I’m dying to indulge you and play your game.

“Oh?” I replied with a small hint of a smile. I didn’t need to tell you how excited I was; you knew me well enough by now to know how I was feeling.

“We’ve been together for a while now….” Yes, far longer than I’ve ever let anyone in. “and we’ve shared a few kisses. Or…” Oh, you’re getting nervous. You’re so adorable when you get shy and flustered. But please keep going. For me. “...a lot of kisses.” I like where this is going. “But earlier today, I thought, there has to be somewhere or someway we haven’t kissed yet.” 

I am going to love this game.

“When do we start?” I asked. I didn’t care that I looked like a lovestruck fool as I gazed into your eyes. When I was with you, I had no need to wear any masks and hide away my feelings.

I smiled as you tipped your face closer to mine, the anticipation of the kiss almost sweeter than the kiss itself. Your lips brushed against mine gently. Soft and quick. The kind of kiss that said hello or good morning, the kind of kiss a couple might exchange every day. 

“You’ll have to try harder than that, my dear, sweet robin,” I whispered, my eyes still closed. “How many times have I rewarded you with kisses when you were learning to play the piano? How many kisses did you steal while I was teaching you?”

I opened my eyes and was greeted with your adorable face that I love so much. I should reward you with a kiss for putting up with my teasing. But I won’t. Not yet.

You rose from the piano and walked around the side, retrieving a small bowl you must have hidden there earlier. I was curious as to what was in the bowl, but didn’t have to wait long to find out what was hiding in there. 

I watched you place the strawberry slice on the tip of your tongue. Tempting me with my favorite food was an evil trick, my naughty robin. How many times have I kissed you, my lips – or yours – still sweet with the taste of fresh berries? I still remember the time you wanted my berry so badly, you stole it right from between my teeth. I gladly let you have it then; I was enamored by how you so boldly took what you wanted. Even my precious strawberry.

I went after you this time. My mouth chasing yours, I wasn't satisfied until my lips were pressed firmly against yours, my tongue seeking the sinfully sweet taste of yours. 

That didn’t make this kiss any less sweet. But, it still was not a new kiss. 

And you knew that.

“Tell me what you want, my darling robin.” My lips hovered over yours; I was in no rush to end your game, but I was so very eager to witness that moment when you finally reached out and grabbed what you sought.

“How did you know….” you muttered, your lips still so close to mine I felt your warm breath.

Your eyes sparkled like a shining star dancing across the night sky. My gaze tracked yours, and before the words spilled from your parted lips, I already knew what you wanted.

“Give me this,” you finally said, your fingers curling around the checkerboard fabric of my cloak.  

Yes, my darling, I like where this is going. Demand, don’t ask; I will give you everything you want and more.

I did a poor job controlling my excitement as I undid the clasp on my cloak. You gave me a look; it's not going there, your eyes told me. 

Yet.

I removed the fabric from around my shoulders and wrapped you in it. With my hands still on your shoulders, you immediately smiled; I hoped it felt like you were being wrapped in me. 

“Now kiss me.”

It would be my pleasure. 

This kiss. This kiss was everything. As you pressed your hand upon my chest, I could feel you breathe your everything into me, filling me with every bit of your love. I covered your hand with mine, our fingers linked together over my heart. 

I leaned in, close enough to kiss you again, and whispered softly, “Red really is your color.”

With my head empty and my heart full, I was prepared to spend the rest of the day like this. With you, my darling robin. Wishing we could kiss like this everyday until that day when we meet our beautiful destiny together.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @themiscarnival @coral-relevium @cyberk1ee @kookie-my-little-sunshine

@pathogenic @ellisgivesmelife013 @ikemen-writer @nightghoul381 @judejazza

@xbalayage @xenokiryu @alydra @drachonia @ranhanabi777

@silver-dahlia @lunaaka @ikesenwritings @sh0jun @chandeliermichel

[moistmailman]

Role Swap AU

*Team PRAN (Pyrrha Ren Arc Nora (pronounced as Persian)) is visiting the arc residents during break*

Jaune: Okay, before we meet anyone in my family, just a fair warning. My mother can be……scary, so I’ve been told at least.

Pyrrha: Describe scary.

Jaune: Imagine a grizzly bear with the sentience of a battle tactician and the demeanor of a serial killer.

Pyrrha:……that’s a colorful way to describe your mother.

Jaune: Those are my father’s words.

Pyrrha:….that’s a colorful way to describe your wife.

Jaune: Just don’t let her intimidate you is all. She’ll soften up to you after a while.

Nora: How long is a while?

Jaune: Well, my father told me she first hugged me when I was around 3 so…..

Everyone:……..

Pyrrha: I-is it too late to go back to beacon?

Jaune: Yes. Look, she’s not that bad. I’m pretty sure everyone overexaggerates when they describe her. So let’s calm down.

Pyrrha: O-okay then. If you say so.

*Jaune knocks on the door*

Jaune: Oh, also try not to show weakness in front of her.

Pyrrha: What?!

Jaune: She has a keen sense of sensing weakness in people. Like a 6th sense.

Pyrrha: B-But I have a keen ability look feeble and pathetic though! She’ll single me out immediately! It’ll be like grade school again with Becky!

Jaune: Nonesense, you’ll be fine. Just calm down and relax.

Pyrrha: B-but-

*the door abruptly opens revealing a tall muscular woman that towers over Pyrrha*

Pyrrha: *audibly gulps*

Jaune’s Mother, nodding: Jaune.

Jaune, nodding back: Mother.

Jaune’s mother: Didn’t have any trouble getting here, did you?

Jaune: Nope. It was a breeze.

Jaune’s mother: *grunts*

Everyone:……

Jaune’s mother: So…..which one of you is my son’s partner in Beacon?

Everyone:……..

Jaune, awkwardly coughing: Uh…mother, this is my partner, Pyrr- Pyrrha? *Jaune turns to his right to see his partner’s absent* Pyrrha, where she go?

Ren: She’s kinda koala hugging your back and trying to hide from *looks at Mrs. Arc*….no one in particular.

Jaune, gently scooting Pyrrha towards his mother: T-this is my partner, mother.

Pyrrha, sweating nervously: H-h-hello, Mrs, Arc. I-it’s uhm….it’s nice to meet you.

Jaune’s Mother: *staring intently at Pyrrha*

Pyrrha, awkwardly: M-my name’s Pyrrha…but you already knew that since Jaune just told you it. *awkwardly chuckles*

Jaune’s mother: *still staring*

Pyrrha:……m-my last name is Nikos, by the way. I don’t think Jaune told you- *looks at Jaune* You didnt t-tell her my last name, right? Uhm, just my first name? Or did you tell her my last name too? Am I making a fool of myself ? I-I’ll just be quiet now…..

Jaune’s mother: *stares*

Pyrrha: *sweating nervously*

Jaune’s mother:…..so Jaune, how’s is this……Pyrrha of yours as a leader?

Jaune, smiling: She’s great. An amazing leader. Ozpin even say she’s naturally born to lead.

Jaune’s mother: Really, that’s a lot of praises then. I’m sure Ozpin must’ve had great reasons to choose her as a leader over an Arc then.

*the atmosphere turns abruptly violent*

Jaune, awkwardly: I-I-I’m uhm…I’m sure he did. W-wouldn’t be the headmaster of Beacon Academy if he wasn’t good at his job, right?

Jaune’s mother:….right. So, Pyrrhan-

Pyrrha: I-it’s uhm Pyrrha.

Jaune’s mother: If you and your team have been in the forest for 2 weeks, and everyone is running on 4 hours of sleep, and not having a meal in 16 hours while one of your teammates is incapacitated from an injury as you’re surrounded by Grimm, what will be your first action as a leader to get your team to safety?

Pyrrha, head spinning: Uh……c-could you maybe repeat that?

Jaune’s mom: No.

Pyrrha, awkwardly swallowing: Uh….well, I would need to know what kinda Grimm we’re dealing with firstly.

Jaune’s Mom: Oh?

Pyrrha: Y-yeah, cause different kinds grimms would need different plans on defeating them. I would also need to know who was injured and how. J-just to know who I have to fight at the moment and how severe the injury is.

Jaune’s mom:…….interesting answer.

Pyrrha: I-I answered?

Jaune’s mom: *walks into the house* You guys can come in now.

Pyrrha: D-did….did I do good?

Jaune: She’s…..reluctantly okay with your answer. Glad we managed to meet her during one of your good moods.

Pyrrha: T-this is a good mood for her?!

Jaune: Is it not obviously?

Ren: I thought she was going to turn Pyr-Pyr into a shish kebab at first. From her gaze alone honestly.

Jaune: Well she didn’t though. So this is good news. Let’s meet everyone else in the house then, okay?

*the team walks into the Arc house to be met with a tall blond man with a beard*

Jaune, nodding: Father.

Jaune’s father: Jaune. So, which one of these lucky ladies fell for your arc charm already?

Jaune, blushing madly: WILL YOU QUIT IT ALREADY?!

Jaune’s father: You’re the second eldest in the house! Saphron already gave me a grandson! When will it be your turn!? I have so much extra money to spend on grand babies!

Jaune, blushing even harder: OH MY GODS! SHUT UP ALREADY!

Pyrrha, whispering to Nora: What’s happening?

Nora: I’m not too sure but I think this is a normal occurrence for this house hold. So nothing to worry about.

Pyrrha, nodding: Oh, okay…..exactly why does he think Jaune would go for a girl like me though? Is he trying to make me feel better for the way his wife treated me?

Jaune, in mid rant: EVERYTIME I EVEN LOOK IN THE DIRECTION OF A GIRL YOURE ALWAYS THERE PLAYING MATCHMAKER FOR ME! I CANT STAND IT!

Jaune’s father: Well I’m sorry for trying to help! You should be thanking me honestly! Ungrateful!

Jaune: *groans in anger before continuing ranting*

Nora:……you know what, let’s have this conversation another time maybe. Maybe once you’ll less dense.

Pyrrha: What’s that supposed to mean?

Nora: I’ll answer that question too in the conversation we’ll have in the future when you’re less dense.

Pyrrha: O-okay.



[harperwritesstuff]

Brotzly sickfic I wrote at like 4am last night

Todd knew Dirk well enough by now to recognize that his insistence that he was “perfectly fine” was a red flag on its own. Over the past few hours, Dirk had become progressively quieter, and slower. And (if Todd dared to admit it), decidedly pale. But each time Todd raised a brow or even outright asked if he was okay, Dirk would deflect with a wave of his hand and a big stupid smile. “Oh, please, Todd! I am perfectly functional! Even if I’m… slightly less dazzling than usual!”

By the time they’d gotten back to the apartment from the agency, Dirk was walking so heavily that Todd practically had to steer him toward the couch.

“Alright, that’s it.” Todd said, exasperated, as he watched Dirk slump into the cushions, the usual spark in his eyes dimming. “You’re sick, Dirk. Just admit it, okay? You’re not fooling anyone.”

Dirk raised his head as if to protest, but only managed a half-hearted cough. He blinked, looking betrayed by his own body. “I’m not sick, Todd! I’m simply… Recalibrating. Yes! Recalibrating my systems!”

“Oh, come on.” Todd muttered tiredly, pulling the blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over Dirk’s shoulders. “You look half-dead.”

As much as Todd found Dirk fascinating and adored him, he could be such an idiot sometime.

Dirk huffed indigentaly, which quickly turned into a coughing fit. Todd could see his resolve crumbling as he leaned back, looking (for once) like he didn’t have a witty (witty isn’t exactly the right word, stupid fits better) comeback.

That was all the confirmation Todd needed.

He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table in front of Dirk. “Drink.” He instructed, tone brooking no argument. When Dirk reached for it weakly, Todd didn’t even comment about the way his hands were shaking, just watched to make sure he actually drank it.

Dirk took a sip, then scowled. “Todd, you don’t have to fuss over me. I’m actually quite capable of managing whatever minor cold I may have.”

“Minor cold?” Todd raised an eyebrow. “Dirk, you practically collapsed on the couch, That’s not a ‘minor cold.’ Just… Let me take care of you, okay?”

Dirk blinked, looking genuinely caught off guard. “You… want to take care of me?”

Todd rolled his eyes. “Yes, that’s what friends do, asshole. Now, stay put. I’ll find some medicine or something.”

Dirk grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, but he didn’t protest. Todd knew it was a rare thing for Dirk to admit weakness, even in the face of being visibly unwell, so he’d take the small victories as they came.

After a rummage through his medicine cabinet, he found some cold medicine and brought it back to Dirk, who wrinkled his nose at it like a child.

“Cold medicine is made with the singular purpose of tasting like… like an industrial-strength cleaner.” Dirk murmured.

“Yeah, But it’ll help, so suck it up.” Todd replied, shaking his head.

Dirk scrunched his nose but swallowed it down, grimacing as he did.

“Is this really necessary?”

“Absolutely.” Todd replied, fighting back a smile. Dirk’s usual bravado was tempered by an almost childlike reluctance in the face of the medicine, and Todd found himself strangely touched by it.

After a few minutes, Dirk’s head tipped back against the couch, eyes drooping. He looked oddly vulnerable, face flushed and hair slightly messy plastered against his forehead. Todd quietly grabbed a washcloth, dampened it, and placed it over Dirk’s burning forehead.

He didn’t protest this time, though his eyes fluttered open briefly, looking at Todd as if he was trying to understand this small kindness.

“Get some sleep, Dirk.” Todd said, his voice soft. “Just rest for a bit.”

Dirk seemed to relax at last, his body easing into the cushions. He opened his mouth, looking as though he wanted to say something, but the weight of exhaustion overtook him, and his eyes slipped shut. In the silence, his breathing evened out, and Todd felt a sense of relief settle over him. He settled in on the armchair next to the couch, ready to stay until he was needed again.

As the hours passed, Dirk would occasionally stir, murmuring snippets of half-formed sentences. Something about “Cosmic constellations” and “Harmonic patterns” that Todd didn’t bother to try and understand, he only chuckled, adjusting the blanket and keeping the washcloth cool when Dirk’s fever flared. In the soft, dim light of the room, Todd realized he didn’t mind taking on this role. Dirk had done plenty for him, saved him from his shitty life before. And now Todd was finally able to give him something back.

In the early hours of the morning, Dirk stirred again, eyes cracking open just enough to spot Todd half asleep on the armchair.

“Thank you, Todd.” He murmured, words barely audible but deniably heartfelt.

Todd woke up and gave him a dazed smile. “Don’t mention it, really.”

Dirk gave a faint nod, and his eyes closed again. Surrendering to sleep with a rare, unguarded ease. Todd stayed by his side, watching over him until he dozed off himself. Feeling, for once, that he was right where he needed to be.

[sky-kiss]

Okay hear me out. This isn't exactly a request unless...👀

But the Raphael x Tav dynamic where he is the only one who can poke fun or give them a hard time is eating my brain.

Like "I can call them a vapid little fool, but if anyone else does the exact same thing it's hellfire and brimstone for them. For a hundred years."

He'd call it affection if it was in his vocabulary.

A/n: This is short, but I’ve been doing a lot of Carrot!Raph and not a lot of Stick!Raph. Some gore and torture ahead. XD Also I don't think this is what you wanted RIP.

__________

“All this caterwauling! You should really feel blessed, little lamb! I rarely sully my hands these days.” Raphael folded his hands at the small of his back. Isolated from the scene around him, the devil would have appeared perfectly genteel: his doublet remained pressed, hair immaculate. Only the eyes were different, violently bright in the prison’s omnipresent gloom. 

Souls and prisoners howled around them, some in agony, some in a desperate attempt to catch the Master’s attention. He didn’t hear; only his guest mattered. 

The cambion stopped, lingering just outside their field of vision. They’d finally stopped screaming, lapsing into hiccuping sobs, slumped in on themselves. Not his finest work, he’d be the first to admit, but the rage had come upon him too abruptly for a more cerebral punishment. He reached out, fisting his hand in the sweaty mass of their hair, and tugged their head back. Terror flooded their eyes; their mouth tried to curl back in horror but failed to manage it. His claws left the cheek a ruin of tissue. He tapped a nail against the wound. They knew better than to twitch away. 

“Remind me why I’m entertaining you, little one.” 

It took three attempts before they could finally choke the word out: “Duchess.” 

“Ah, yes. How forgetful! You will have to forgive the indiscretion.” Raphael stepped closer. He’d made quite a mess, honestly. Bones jutted from strange, haphazard angles; he’d removed a few in a fit of pique. He didn’t believe they were essential, but it was always so difficult to tell with mortals. He yanked, and the little thing screamed their anguish. “And what was it you said? Be specific; your life depends on it.” 

“W…whore. Whore queen. Raph…” they winced. The mouth couldn't form the words, an ever-increasing disconnect between the body and brain as blood loss took its toll. “Your cunt.” 

“An inelegant summation.” He wiped his hand on the thing’s shoulders, glancing across the chamber. “Care to vouch for them, duchess?” 

His pet chuckled. What a sight! His finest treasure, her gown set with gems, gold chains hanging about her horns. He had created art with her. “It is they say, my duke.” 

“And that bodes well for you, little one.” Raphael knelt beside them, stroking hair back from their face. They turned their face into the motion, an awful pantomime of intimacy. “Though…perhaps not as well as you might have hoped. I guard my treasures so zealously, and she is first among them. You understand, don’t you?” 

They nodded, miserable. 

“But I am not without mercy. Should you apologize to her…we could start fresh. Would you like that, little one?” He pitched his voice lower, speaking as if in conspiracy. Two friends, ready to make peace. They released a shuddering breath and nodded. Raphael held out his arm to his duchess. She came to him with vibrant eyes and a smile, a pretty reflection of all he’d accomplished. His conquest, his might, his pretty love. “Begin, wretch.” 

“Beg…beg forgiveness, dutchess. Please…gods, please, forgive us…” 

His duchess hummed. “You are forgiven, wretch.” And to Raphael, “My love, must you play with your food? Are you nearly finished?” 

“Very nearly, little mouse. First,” he withdrew a vial from his doublet, a draught of restorative waters. He held it to his guest's lips. Like magic, flesh mended itself! Wounds shrunk and disappeared! In a matter of moments, they were whole once more.

“Merciful King, kind lord,” they sobbed, crawling towards him. The wretch painted the toe of his boot with kisses. “Never again. Not a word against you or the lady will pass my lips.” 

“No. I imagine not.” He nudged their ribs with his boots. “Alas, our fresh start will have to wait. My duchess requires me.” The imps crawled forward, hungry and eager. “I leave you in my staff’s ever-capable hands.” 

[whirlwindimagines]

Hello if its not too much can you write something with soulmate au where you cant lie to each other with babygirl vash? c: thank u

Ahhh good ole soulmate AU we love to see it. Me every time: I’ll make this short :) 800 words later lol

‘Eyes on you, eyes on me’ 

Vash x Reader

You’ve been quietly cleaning your gun for the past five minutes when you feel Meryl’s gaze on you. Looking up and giving her a confused look, she subtly points at Vash. Who is sitting barely in sight by the car struggling with something?

Raising a brow at her she sighs, getting up and joining your side. “I think he’s hurt.” She whispers, you certainly wouldn’t be surprised the firefight you all barely escaped from was intense, but you don’t understand the point she’s trying to make. 

Meryl pouts at you, “will you talk to him? If I ask him, he’ll just wave me off.” You huff, “and why would he listen to me?” You barely know the man, the four of you haven’t been traveling together long. You were just here to do a job, protect some nosy reporters and well you didn’t want to get attached to any of them. It was easy to keep to yourself.

Besides you get it, you were hiding your own injury the bullet had grazed your bicep and you were able to get it cleaned and wrapped before anyone could tell. “Well, you are kind of scary so I figured you had a better chance!” Meryl says this with a smile, and you roll your eyes. With a sigh you holster your weapon and stand brushing sand off yourself you head towards Vash.

You know it’s better not to argue with Meryl you’ll go over and ask, he’ll probably brush you off and that will be that. You stop in front of Vash and he looks up startled but gives you a gentle smile that you know is fake. With a sigh you put your hands on your hips, “Alright Vash, are you hurt?” 

“Yes,” you look at him startled he looks just as confused, as he slaps his hands over his mouth. “What?” You say, “what?!” He repeats, okay now you're confused. You drop down to your knees in front of him, “Vash… what did you say?” He gives you a painful look but drops his hands. 

“I said yes, I am hurt. I got shot, but I’ll be fine honest!” You place a hand on his knee to stop his rambling and he pretty much squeaks at the contact. Your brain is working a mile a minute and then jumps to a horrible conclusion, you couldn’t even think it. 

“Your arm!” Vash says grabbing your upper arm to bring it closer to him, oh damn you must have bled through the bandage, you are already ready to dismiss his worries, but then he asks you a dreaded question. 

“Are you okay?” You want to so badly to just say yes, but the words won’t come and you know why. Because yes is a lie. Your face grows pale and you feel sick, you are not a fool to the idea of soulmates, but just no. Not him, no way! But you can’t lie to him, trying to get the word out makes you sick. 

“No, I’m really not.” You answer honestly, not able to meet his eyes. Because you are scared, of what this could mean for the two of you. He’s not saying anything now and you're thankful for it. 

Vash can only stare at you, he’s not naive Rem had once explained to him and Nai the concept of human soulmates, but everyone figured that didn’t include them since they were well… different. But yet here you are right in front of him! He drops your arm, unsure what to say to you. 

“Look let’s start over, y/n it’s nice to meet you.” You hold out a hand for him with a nervous smile, he smiles softly at you a real one as he takes your hand in his. “Vash and the pleasure are all mine.” You laugh as he grips your hand, we’ll it’s not a lie you conclude this would certainly be interesting. 

You take the med kit that he had been trying to hide, and you patch up the wound on his side, luckily, he was just grazed. You can see him blushing as your hands skim over his side, you decide not to point it out because you are sure your own face looks similar. 

“All done.” You whisper, he takes the med kit from you and gives you a pointed look. “Oh, you don’t have to, it really doesn’t hurt much.” You answer with a sigh, “I want to.” He pouts at you, and who are you to refuse? The silence stretches out, and your mouth works faster than your brain. 

“So, soulmates huh?” Now, why would you say that, you blush even brighter and Vash makes a choking noise as he ties off your bandage a little too tightly. Which makes you yelp. 

“Sorry!” He cries out, you try to shush him not wanting to gain the attention of your other traveling companions. “It’s fine!” He relaxes, now that he knows you can’t lie to him your words have a bit more weight to them. Feeling brave you move to sit next to him on his uninjured side, grabbing his flesh hand in your own. 

“This is nice.” You say leaning your head on his shoulder, he lets out a soft chuckle leaning his cheek on top of your head. “Yeah, it is.” 

You two have a lot to figure out, but for now, you would just enjoy each other's company under the stars.

[physics-of-one-piece]

Hello Physics! I can’t get enough of our feathered friend and would love to request Doffys Leg to torso ratio!

Thanks so much xo

I have been waiting for THIS ONE! Same here, I can never get enough of our pink feathered menace friend.

First, disclaimer. His size varies based on the panels he is in, but the most accurate ones are those from afar rather than the up-close ones.

I got a LOT of results since I used 3 panels, 2 from manga, 1 from anime.

Okay, for this we need (groans) pixels. Ugh. Ugh.

I’m not on PC right now so we’ll do it the more basic way of cutting the image into the height to fit Doffy.

Beware, most images I found of him are very very traumatic pages of the manga.

Like this one! 😊

Haha…ha… aaaaaa 😭😭😭😭

He is 254 pixels tall here. So that means 254 pixels = 305cm here.

Now we cut his torso off.

(Wheezes) Oda really fckn drew him 100% flamingo dear god.

His legs are 171 pixels. Ooh boy.

So his legs are 171 pixels tall, his upper body = 83 pixels

Hm, I can already do the ratio with this. I tried to do pixels to cm but it just wasn’t working out, even though it should have. I was getting too small numbers for his leg height in cm. So we’ll stick to pixels and then when we get the ratio & percentages, we’ll go into the cm to get his torso+leg length.

Ratio, basic one, we go:

171/83 = 2.06

83/83 = 1

So his legs to upper body ratio is 2:1.

For his torso, we gotta do his TORSO, that means waistline to shoulders.

Torso = 59 px.

So, we do same thing for legs to torso ratio.

171/59 = 2.89

Legs - Torso ratio = 2.89:1

Now we’ll go into percentages bcs I do not like ratios.

171/254 = 0.67 × 100 = 67%

Legs = 67%

Upper Body = 32.68%

For his body, it fits. The average torso length is 26-30% of a male’s height.

And NOW WE CAN GO INTO CM HALLELUYAH!

Legs = 205.36 cm

Upper Body = 109 cm

This fits. It fits for how tall Law is compared to Doflamingo, and it fits to how tall Smoker is compared to Doflamingo. Smoker’s head is reaching to Doflamingo’s stomach, and Smoker is 209 cm tall. It fits.

YES! YES! YES! HAHA! YES.

Sorry. I wanted to know how much LEGS this man has for AAAAGES. I always circled it to be 60% but by Oda… it’s a bit more.

Let's do North Blue Doffy in his Red Suit 😍

Here is North Blue Doffy. This image is a bit bigger since the panel itself was bigger. He’s 503 px tall. Yeah, I lowered his hair, he ain’t fooling his height with that updo.

Let’s see his leggies.

Legs = 301 px

(Spits out my hot chocolate) HOLY ONE PIECE.

301/503 = 59.8 %

Aaa, see here his legs are 60%. This is a more realistic proportion while still keeping his legs tall as fuck. And this was my initial guess.

Okay, 60% of 305cm is… also, before anyone says, "oh only 6% difference"… 1% of 305 is 3.05 cm. Each percent is 3.05 cm taller. Within only 3% he’s reaching 10 cm taller, and that’s nothing to scoff at — HE’S ALREADY HUGE WE DON’T NEED HIM HUGER!

183 cm

Maybe... Too short? Luffy (174cm) would then… wait.

Oh.

Hmmm…

Huh.

HUH.

HUH?!

This is getting too accurate regarding body proportions. Not surprising, since Oda uses different distances in panels to get different vibes.

This… actually fits, then? Huh.

I think Luffy needs about 10-20 cm more to be at waist height, so we should add that amount for the legs…

194-197 cm

You know what, we’ll round it up to 183 (60%)-200 cm for his leg height. My bet? Somewhere in the high 80s. Mostly because from what I think, Law (191cm) should be at his waist, Smoker (209 cm) above his waist. Did we seriously, in all of Dressrosa, NEVER get Law standing in front of Doffy with Doffy also standing? 😭🤧 If Doffy’s proportions were normal, his leg would be 50% of his height but since he has flamingo ass legs…

We gotta find Law. We gotta. (Opens my Dressrosa manga folder)

I am so sorry, Law. I am so sorry.

Final verdict.

Doffy's Leg Length: 185-205 cm

60 - 67% legs

My take… 195 cm (63% legs)

Makes Law just a tiny bit shorter and feeling small cus he could never get over Doffy’s waist - how about that trauma and feeling like he is still a kid being scolded by his captain. Haha. Ha…

I really like suffering, huh? Prob why Dressrosa is my favourite arc.

It really depends how long you wanna understand his upper body is, but I think the 2:1 ratio is fine for that.

I’m done. Doffy has huge limbs and is too tall, someone shrink him.

Wait. Wait.

FOUND YOU, YOU LITTLE SHIT. THIS PIC. WE’RE USING THIS ONE.

1978 pixels tall. This time we’ll do upper body first cus big boy can’t stand normally.

His waistband is drawn taller here for the intimidation factor so we’ll follow the length of his shirt. It’s longer than his upper body so we shorten it slightly to get to the waist

Upper body = 541 px

😭😭😭 THAT GIVES HIS LEGGIES 1000+ PX 😭😭🤧🤧🤧

Legs = 1430 px

Nah, this is too much at this point. This is exaggeration. This is… (wipes nosebleed)

72% legs!

HAHAHAHA. HAHA. NO. NO. NO NO NO NO NO. NO!

I’m done! I’ll bleed out from my nosebleed. I need to get some bandages! Bye! Thank you for the ask!

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @ohnomyhooves (bcs I think you'll be interested)

[fireflylitsky]

Yes yes yes this chapter is actually 99% done and I really wanted to get it out this week, but alas, I am a butt.

For those that don't know, Please Mr. Postman is one of my ongoing KakuHida fics on AO3. A very domestic Modern AU in which Kakuzu is a big gwump living by himself with his 4 big ass dogs, and Hidan is his awful mailman that he may or may not become wildly attached to.

Despite the unusually large amount of mustard used in the last chapter, we are moving into it getting darker. Finding out that Hidan's home life is not all well, and Kakuzu is trying to figure out the extent of how not well that is, exactly. (Also finding out about Kakuzu's not so squeaky clean past)

Snippet from upcoming chapter:

"What happened?" It’s all he manages to ask, fists subconsciously tightening at his sides. 

Hidan shrugs. "Accident.”

Kakuzu growls low in his throat, eyes narrowing. "Do not treat me like a fucking moron and just answer the goddamn question, Hidan."

"Fine,” Hidan laughs, flashing a sharp smirk. “Maybe I like it rough.”

“Really?” Kakuzu sneers. “That’s what you’re gonna go with?”

“Why, you jealous?”

“Of this?” Kakuzu says with an edge of disgust, gesturing to Hidan’s fucked up face. “I knew you weren’t the smartest, Hidan, but Jesus fucking Christ. What kind of idiot lets someone do this to th—”

Hidan’s face flashes with disdain. Pulls hot and sharp like a nerve’s been struck. “It’s not like I fucking let him—” he restrains himself with a tight-lipped scowl and a heavy huff from his nose, “Y’know what? Yeah, you're right. I was kidding. Hah hah. Hidan made a bad fucking joke. It’s a big surprise, everyone’s shocked, right? Look, I just got into it with some asshole, it’s whatever.”

It’s not like I fucking let him—

Yeah, that’s not lost on Kakuzu. Pocketing that tidbit for later.

“You call this ‘whatever’? You can’t even walk right.” 

“You need to get your eyes checked, old man.” Hidan scoffs. “I’m walkin’ just fine. Don’t need a leash or anything. Look at me go.” 

“No,” Kakuzu says evenly, shaking his head. “I had lasik three years ago. I know what I saw. You’re limping like a wounded animal today.” 

“Lasik.” Hidan chokes out a laugh. “God, you take shit so literally sometimes. Look, bottom line is that you don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, okay? I’m fucking fine. I’m always fine.” 

“Oh, so this doesn’t hurt?” He reaches out and grabs Hidan by the hip with one huge hand. Puts some pressure on the joint he knows is bothering him. It’s like pressing a thumb to a bruised apple. Difficult to eye maybe, but easy to feel—at least when you’re Kakuzu anyway.

Like he said, he knows the human body intimately, and not in any way that’s romantic. 

Hidan’s not fooling anyone when he lets out a strained hiss vaguely resembling ‘shit’, his face twisting into a wince. “Okay. Okay, fine, fine. Ease up, Jesus,” he gasps. 

Kakuzu does. He’s really not trying to hurt him, but he needs to make a point and hey, imagine that, Hidan responds better to pain than logic. “That’s what I thought.”

“So, I got into a fight n’ got a little messed up,” Hidan huffs, exasperated and edging back into humor, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s not a big deal.” 

“What happened? With who?” Kakuzu’s mind reels. Is Hidan involved in some sort of illegal fighting ring? He’s seen Fight Club once before—stupid movie. Hidan seems like the kind of idiot that might join something like that.

[achaotichuman]

Hello 👋

I hope you're well

Idk if you're taking prompts for fics but if you are, could you please write something for Tarquin from ACOTAR? Could it be something platonic (not sexual at all), him interacting with the other High Lords or yelling at the IC or maybe just expanding on the Summer Court? I feel like there's so little Tarquin-centric fics and i am dying just to get something.

I hope i'm not pressuring you into doing anything tho (and am really sorry if i'm sounding like i am) becoz if you don't want to or want to do something else, that's fine as well. I love your writing and will be happy regardless

Sorry if i'm disturbing you

Helloo!!!

Omg I love this prompt so much!!

Don't ever think you are disturbing me by sending me prompts, I am always happy to receive them!!! And if anyone is ever wondering whether or not I am taking requests, in the pinned post on my blog, it will tell you whether my inbox is open or closed. We def need more Tarquin-centric fics so I am very happy to write this one!!!

Okay so, I definitely wanted fluff and a touch of hurt/comfort, but mostly good vibes. Tarquin's trauma in the books is completely swept under the rug and I absolutely despise it, so here we see a window into him healing from Under the Mountain. Some friendship with Eris and Tamlin, and his relationship with Cresseida and Varian.

I hope you enjoy anon!!

 I’m almost me again, she’s almost you

I got some colour back, She thinks so too. I’m almost me again, She’s almost you. -(Almost (Sweet Music) Hozier

I’m running a circus. Tarquin thought to himself as he watched the three lords around the glass circle table bicker over minor details of the recent High Lord’s meeting. Debating seating arrangements, decorations and who would greet who. Tarquin listened as each Lord gave his opinion, only to be talked over by the other. 

Eventually though, his eyes slid to Cresseida who met his gaze. He gave the slightest of nods, and she plucked a crystal bell from the table. Ringing it loud and suddenly to catch the full attention of everyone in the room. 

Tarquin smoothly stood from his seat, folding his hands in front of him. He said cooly, “We will assess and organise the arrangements as necessary, but first I would like to discuss the logistics of the meeting with my second. For now you are all excused.”

There was a murmuring of ‘yes High lord.’ And general thank you’s for the meeting before everyone began to file out. The door finally clicked shut and Tarquin fell back into his chair. 

Cresseida hid her laugh behind her palm, but couldn’t stop the shaking of her shoulders as she watched her younger cousin practically melt into his chair. 

“What we really need to do is prepare a room as far away from the rest of the Palace as possible. And find some sort of enchanted unbreakable chairs.”

His second nodded thoughtfully, “Perhaps, my lord, we should nail them into the ground so that no one decides it's necessary to use them as an aerial weapon.”

Tarquin faced her with a deadpan expression as Cresseida struggled to reign in her giggles. 

“I swear to the Mother and Cauldron, if anyone ends up getting choked on my floors-”

“We’ll make it mandatory to remove all weapons. And ask Thesan for his spells to ward the room against magic.”

“I think we’d have outrage from the Night Court if we made their spymaster strip off all his weaponry.” He mumbled. 

“Maybe then they won’t come.” Cresseida murmured as she picked at her nails. 

“Cress-”

“It would certainly be a more peaceful meeting then.” She argued. 

“We have to get along with them. If only for Varian’s sake.”

She frowned, “Varian is a love-sick fool. Completely blind, I couldn’t tell you what he sees in her.”

Tarquin waved his hand in dismissal, he didn’t really want to think about his cousin’s love affairs right now. As strange as they may be and as much as he did not understand them. They weren’t his business. 

They were when he found out Varian had been telling Amren Summer’s personal matters. It got him revoked from the Court until Tarquin was completely sure it would not happen again. Since that day, Varian had not been seen in Adriata. And Tarquin didn’t go looking for him. 

“I need a drink.” Tarquin said, standing up and stretching his arms, hearing his joints crack and pop. 

Cresseida stood with him. Her skirts wishing around her ankles. The long, slim flowing blue fabric of the Summer Court billowed in the sea air as they opened the doors. 

Most of the palace was open to the air. The tall stone pillars that lined the hallways, allowing the breeze to waft in. As well as the hot, buttery yellow sun combining with the salt in the air. Tarquin closed his eyes as he breathed it in. 

He had taken it for granted. In his decades before Amarantha came for them, he had taken this all for granted. 

He breathed it in like the salt might burn away the tang of blood which tainted his senses. The thick crimson which had caked Norstrus’ and Brutius’ skin as Tarquin watched them executed. The image was there whenever he dreamt, stained in the sky at sunset, in his the blood rubies he sent to the Night Court after their thievery. 

Tarquin had always hated the colour red, it was too harsh, too cruel, too much like fire for him. It was a stain to the normal whites, blues and gold he wore. 

But after Amarantha, it was a nightmare of itself. 

“Tar?” Cresseida asked, snapping him from his own thoughts. 

Tarquin looked down at Cresseida, her eyebrows furrowed as she watched him carefully.

“Are you okay?” She asked. 

Her eyes were an earthy brown, skin made vibrant and dark by the sun again. She was alive, and so was he. She was breathing and he did too. The scars on her arms from where she had been grabbed by the Attor at times hadn’t faded entirely, and the claw marks down Tarquin’s thighs from when he had been in a grapple with one of the guards who picked on Varian still got sore sometimes. 

But they were healing. They would heal in time. 

“Yeah, Cress.” Tarquin smiled and it was real, “I’m okay.”

She smiled back, and he knew she knew what he meant. 

“We’re both okay.” She took his hand and gave it a loving squeeze. 

“You thought you could escape me.” Her voice was dripping with cruelty as she laughed and laughed, “Did you think I wouldn’t see through your plans, oh Norstrus, you weren’t this dense even when I first entrapped you.”

Cresseida grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight enough to grind the bones, as tears flowed relentlessly down her face. She couldn’t stop them. 

Tarquin squeezed her hand back. 

“I feel like something fruity and full of good alcohol.” Tarquin loudly proclaimed, “And let’s go to the beach, I’ve been in shoes for far too long now.”

Cresseida laughed, “Cousin, you are full of good ideas.”

“Ive more ideas that all of Helion’s libraries combined, you should know this well.” Tarquin grinned. 

Cresseida looked out over their people in the city streets far below, she smiled at what she saw, “Of course, of course.”

Tarquin and Cresseida sat at a busy bar at the beach that night. Tarquin got to lose his shoes and feel the sand under his feet, the sea lapping at ankles. Now he savoured a pineapple drink and watched the ocean sparkling in the deep orange light as the sun began to set. The band of red glimmered at him, Tarquin watched as the colours darkened, the stars beginning to shine from the blanket of darkness high above. 

Cresseida happily sipped on her drink, watching the sunset with her cousin. He wondered if she also saw blood in the sky as he did. 

“I love sunsets,” She said, he looked over to her, to see her eyes trained on the display before them. 

“They’re pretty,” He agreed. 

“They’re unique.” She said, “Not one is the same as another. Just like people, you’ll never see one the exact same as the other.”

Tarquin looked over the sea again, the sky an array of blended colours and dimming light. 

He watched the red as it began to fade, seeing that deep orange-tinted colour as it blended with the pinks, blues, purples, fading into the silvery ocean as the sun fully dipped below the horizon. 

“You know,” Cresseida said, “When you were young, I told you that no sunset is the same and the one we saw that night you would never see again.”

Tarquin rubbed a finger along the lip of his drink, listening intently as he turned to stare into the yellow of his drink. 

“You didn’t like that,” She laughed, “You asked me if we could get on a ship and sail to the horizon, if we could chase the sunset and see it forever.”

He followed the line of his fingers with his eyes, his skin, his wrists, his veins. He saw it all. 

“What did the sunset look like that night?” He asked.

Cresseida sighed dreamily as she thought back fondly on the memory, “It was marvellous, the whole sky was red, even the ocean shone crimson. You were amazed by it. Said it looked like the Mother had dipped a bucket of red paint over the sky.”

He remembered it, he remembered holding Cresseida’s finger with one hand and clutching a stuffed seahorse in the other. He had smiled and pointed at the sky and been upset when Cresseida said he would not see it again. 

Perhaps he had not hated red as much as he thought. 

Amarantha had tainted his memory, dragged jagged claws and left a bleeding scar. 

But blood clotted, and scars healed over. His were no different. 

Tarquin turned to face the sky. He looked at the red band, and saw the Mother’s grand expanse of paints. 

Norstrus’ blood would always haunt his mind. 

But he would look at the sunset, and he wouldn’t be afraid. 

______________________________________________

Music played in the air, a symphony of notes that wrapped around his limbs like hands pulling him forward. The night air was cool, the notes of ocean, fruits and citrus salt blew through his hair and pushed him in all directions. 

Every string was plucked with the celebrations of his lands. Tarquin clutched a flute of bubbling Faerie wine in one hand, watching the dancing Fae, twirling and spinning in long fluttering layers of fabric. A sea of blue and gold, as shining and unbound as the ocean itself. 

The meeting was over and he forgot the stress as he drank deeply from his glass. Swallowing each pale gold drop. A haze settled deep in his bones, making him as free as raging currents coursing through the sea itself. Tarquin didn’t know when or how, but he found himself spinning and twisting in the crowds to the music which wrote and rewrote itself into his soul. Etching this memory into his bones. Burning out the memories of days and nights under a cave’s ceiling, they turned to ashes which blew out into the night with the ocean air, replaced with the view of the stars above, the perfume of his Court, and the smiling, free people around him. 

At some point he spotted Cresseida, she was twirled around by a man he hadn’t met before. She met his gaze and laughed, in a second she was beside him. Grabbing his hands and spinning him around. 

“You got wine on your shirt, dunce!” She laughed, throwing her head back, white curls bouncing around. 

Tarquin stopped his spinning just enough to grab his shirt and look down. And instead droplets had splattered across his pale blue and gold shirt. 

“Oh well!” He laughed with her, grabbing her hands again. 

The night spun away from him, it came back to earth when another set of hands caught his wrists. 

“Cousin!” There was Varian, grinning from ear to ear, drunk on alcohol and the spirit of the crowd. 

“Var!” Tarquin caught him in a tight hug, catching Cresseida’s arm once more and drunkenly pulling her into the embrace. 

The three laughed and danced and drank to their merry heart’s content. Allowing the night to sweep them off their feet, whisking them into the antics of the party. 

At some point, sometime very early in the morning, Tarquin found himself laying across an empty beach, the last rays of moonlight shining down on him, painting the sand in pure silver. The ocean shimmering like the scales of a fish with every tiny wave. His shoes were gone, possibly for good, and his loose pants were rolled up past his ankles. 

He laid supported by his elbows. Watching the horizon as the very first drop of sunlight broke from below the horizon. 

“Well that was a wild night.” A voice he didn’t immediately recognise commented. 

Tarquin looked up to see a head of blond nearly right beside him, supporting a near unconscious pale-skinned redhead. 

“Tamlin,” Tarquin grinned, he glanced down at Eris and raised an eyebrow. 

Tamlin laughed, slowly lowering Eris who swayed with every movement like he’d be sick. 

“Too much Faerie wine for you, Lord of Autumn.”

“It was your terrorising cousin who wished to see me undone who kept shoving a full glass into my hand.” Eris said. 

“Cresseida is a force to be reckoned with.” Tamlin noted, flopping down on Tarquin’s other side. 

“Truer words have never been spoken, Spring,” Tarquin said, letting himself fall back down into the sand. Tamlin joined him. Staring up at the last remnants of the stars. 

“You’ll both come to Spring solstice this year.” Tamlin said, not even an invitation, almost an order. Almost, if Tarquin did not know he had long planned to go regardless of if Tamlin even wanted him to be there. 

“And I’ll be at the Autumn Equinox,” Tarquin noted, “I have to get Eris back for emptying out my cellars by doing the same to him.”

“You’ll never succeed.” Eris responded, laying back with them, looking a little more in control of himself, “If there was anything Beron was good for it was collecting the good stuff. There’s hoards of it that will put your treasure trove to shame.”

“We’ll compare and see who comes out on top then.” Tarquin said with a challenging grin. 

“What new kind of dick measuring contest is this? I’ll have to start my own hoard.” Tamlin laughed. 

“What are you going to hoard Tamlin? Flower crowns? Those would rot in mere days.” Eris snapped. 

“That's why you either dry or freeze them, Eris, then you can keep them forever. I still have the flower crowns my mother had her nieces wear to her wedding.”

“Introduce me to them one day.” Tarquin said, “I’ve heard many good tales about Lady Dahlie Fairburn.”

“My mother was awesome.” Tamlin grinned. 

“Your mother’s awesome? My mother is the most awesome,” Tarquin said, “But your mother can have second place.”

“No, my mother is the most awesome.” Eris said, “Not even a competition, you two can fight over second place.”

“Oh, please,” Tamlin scoffed, “It’s not even a fair contest, Tarquin never even met my mother.”

“What are the three of you bickering over?” Someone else chimed from above. 

Tarquin tilted his head as back as he could to try and make out who stood above them. 

“Mother, you’re just in time!” Eris chimed, clambering to sit up properly. 

Andrea took in a deep breath whilst the observed the three males try and stumble to get up. Dusting sand that stuck to their wine-stained clothes and hair. 

“Come inside the lot of you, you can sleep all this off.” She said, beginning to walk back to the Palace. 

“Wait Andrea! You knew my mother, you can settle this argument.” Tamlin shouted after her. 

Eris, Tarquin and Tamlin got up and started running after the Lady of Day. The soft fluffy sand cold beneath their feet, turning to the stone steps and the rocky cobblestone as they continued to argue. 

Andrea laughed as she listened to the three, her ribs ached as they tried to make her pick who would win their imaginary competition. 

The sun’s rays grew stronger, blue bleeding into the dark as day overtook night. 

Tarquin looked up at the sky and saw the endlessness spread out for all to see. 

Maybe he was stained with the darkness of that depraved mountain forever. 

But right now. 

He was almost him again.