#their flame gets bigger with their emotions

[invincibledc]

more kole?☹️

⋆˙⟡ACTIONS OF LOVE! ⋆˙⟡

⋆˙⟡ KOLE ANDERS (OC) X BATSIB!READER⋆˙⟡

SYNOPSIS: the actions of love he does for you

GENRE: fluffy fluff fluff! <3

INFO: this OC is an OC I’ve written for my own amusement. He’s the adoptive son of Kori/Starfire. Full HUMAN name, Kole Anders. His Tamaranean name is Koldond'r. Reader is the twin sibling of Damian, but Damian is the older twin of course. Im only a writer so you can imagine who he looks more like but all I can is he is handsome canonically, plus freakishly tall like a Tamaranean should be.

WORDCOUNT: 1,488

He always showed his love towards you, he’s an affectionate guy.

ACTS OF SERVICE.

He helps with missions, he could never say no to you, and vice versa. You would see him flying or floating above you, his glowing-filled green eyes and fiery red hair.

Part of his red hair was glowing from red to yellow like a burning bright flame. His golden skin showed off the contrast of it all.

“Hello!” he says excitedly, watching you knock a bad guy out. He floats to the ground, smiling brightly as his hair flows majestically. “Any problem, my friend?” he questions, you ignored him, not in the mood for some tall ass boy to talk to you as you tie up the goon.

You didn't notice how he stared at you, watching you closely, watching you struggle to lift the guy. Maybe it was time to stop bed rotting during the weekend and work out hard like Damian.

Just as you grunted, the 6-foot alien boy with fiery hair, picked up the man with no issues. Putting the heavy male over his broad shoulders.

Staying quiet—you nodded and answered your comms to alert your father, aka Bruce, that you caught that suspect he wanted for his investigation.

He also helps you with air support missions. This guy will never let you down, not even wanting you to touch the ground. His adoptive mother taught him well! Thanks to Kori, he’s a good gentleman that will always be by your side.

Like the one time you wore uncomfortable shoes once to a hangout with him, he picked you up like as if this was a fairytale. With one arm, you were lifted on the said arm. He smiled up at you, “Feeling better?” “y-yes.. Uhm. Thank you, Kole.”

“No problems!”

PHYSICAL TOUCH.

Physical touch, he is the definition of it. The moment he has the time, he’s clutching your hand into his. His eyes shine so colorfully when he notices his hand is bigger than yours. He would poke at your fingers with such a cute face. Pulling out a face like “:3”, as you stare at him chuckling.

“So small… you are certainly adorable y/n.” he gave you an eye-closed smile before he kissed your cheek.

When you both started to date, the touches didn't change except for the kisses. He always was the one to constantly have a hand on you.

Hand on your waist, hand on the shoulder, hand in hand, etc. All small touches and he was living for it.

The moment you give this Tamaranean a small kiss on his lips or cheek, his hair goes ablaze.

It all happened one day, you were fatigued. Rubbing your eyes—you noticed a certain Tamaranean male who was watching cartoons.

Trying to understand all kinds of human entertainment on the bug screen. You didn't even process what you did next as you sat by him, giving him a quick kiss.

His green eyes blew up brightly, along with his hair as immediately as soon as that kiss made contact, his hair blew in flames.

With a yelp, you jerked back to see his flushed tanned cheeks and his wide-like eyes. He turned towards you, “Please… my darling, don't do that again. I do not wish to harm you.” He says so softly. That was before he gave you a big kiss to pay back the small kiss you gave him.

So watch out when you do this unexpectedly, he may set someone on fire due to how sometimes his emotions can affect his fiery hair just like solar energy.

Dont also get him started on cuddling. He fiens for cuddling, he lives always having his body against yours.

Like a damn cat, he would lay his whole body across your lap, not daring to move—he smiles at you with his handsome curls.

You gently run your hands through his curls, you give him such a soft smile. And just like that, his body is burning up so easily. He hides himself into your stomach.

He’s never coming out of that hiding spot, cause you can just feel his stupid smile against your abdomen.

WORD OF AFFIRMATION.

Word of affirmation, he's a god at that.

You could be feeling like dirt if you didn't do well when training yourself, and he’ll be like, “You got this sweetie!” and your brothers (dick) will be like, “Awww..” while the others (mostly Damian and Jason) are like “Ew, love.” either way, Kole is a sweet boy.

He doesn't care even while battling monsters or goons, he’ll say that you did a good job.

Kole was flying around uphead, blasting enemies with his laser eyes. As a green beam strikes a rock monster down, he watches how you did a hand back spring over one of the monster’s heads—that was before grabbing their head and slamming them down.

He flew past you, leaving you just with a fire trail of his hair—you look in his direction of where he flew to see two thumbs-ups.

“Wonderful takedown Robin!” he says loud and proud.

Your face blew up, not expecting him to outright yell it out. He didn't seem to be embarrassed as he hurled a star bolt at another monster, puncturing a hole into the middle of the monster.

Best person to get compliments—like that one time during a gala, he was smitten with you. Always smiling such a goofy smile and throwing compliments left and right.

“You look beautiful/handsome!”

“The outfits suit you, I mean—you always look amazing.”

“You have pretty eyes.”

That last one was because he couldn't stop staring at your eyes. He loves your eyes like you like his.

Meanwhile, this was going on, Dick made a phone call to Kori.

“Kori… I'm so happy to meet my brother-in-law,” he says dramatically.

QUALITY TIME.

Quality time, oh boy!! This tamaranean loves spending time with you!

Whether it's a mission, patrols, teen titans meeting, or just full-on dates. The minute you text him, “Hey wanna spend time?” he’s flying straight to the manor with a green trail behind him due to his eyes glowing bright and his hair flaming with a whole bunch of emotions.

He almost smashes into your window—breaking it almost, you looked at the window when you heard a faded tap against it.

No joke, you jolted from your bed to see “menacing” green eyes staring back into your own [color] eyes.

“I-I’m here!” He says softly loud, it’s late at night. He wishes to not disturb other’s sleep for his time over here. Opening the window, you were pummeled by an eager golden-skinned teenage boy who smiled softly.

“Hi.”

“…hello, beloved.”

He just smiles at you, not even blinking as you stare back. This always happens awkwardly where you both stare at each other.

I mean, Damian does it to Jon, and Jon just plays along with it.

I’d say if you were grounded, and couldn't have anyone over... *cough cough* Kole *cough cough*. Kole would listen to Bruce because that man trained him along with Kori.

But, he can't deny a simple request from his lover that they are feeling lonely. He’ll feel bad because he wouldn't want to feel lonely either.

He sleekly opens the apartment window, fleeing to Gothman city. What he doesn't know is that his mother walks into his room with a knowing smile.

She chuckles and closes the door, “Teenage love..” she says this while her head.

RECEIVING GIFTS.

Oh lord, he's an abominable gifter. And not because he gives you gifts, no. It's because he always spends BADLY on you.

Although there were times he brought you tamaran cultured foods, bringing you Pudding of Sadness when you didn't do good on a test and felt down in the dumps. Yeah, he didn't know your human stomach couldn't handle it as you threw up the next minute in your bedroom bathroom.

Patting your back, he frowns as he eats the Pudding of Sadness now. He can't let it go to waste!

He gifts you roses, hoodies, and weird jewelry. He once had flown to space for a mission and came back with a rock from a planet.

Handing it over to you—he smiled, “It reminded me of you!” he said while you gave him an awestruck expression.

“Awww, this is so sweet of you, my beloved.” you gave him a soft peck on his cheek and he instantly clung to you.

It's even worse when you both get older, you both could be living in a cute small apartment. You would possibly walk in from your shift as a normal person, and there is Kole with his long curls in a ponytail. He had a meteorite shaped into a lovely ring. It was a sweet gift, you cried whilst he kissed your head.

The small kisses on your face were filled with love, he places the ring onto your ring finger.

You never thought he could get you such a nice gift…

[saucywendeee]

How did Rosemary and Lucanis fall in love?

Ty so much for the ask!! :DD

I personally love the idea that it really was 'love at first sight' but because it's kind of a scary thing esp for crows to be easily swept up in emotions, they chose to keep it to themselves until that spark slowly built into a bigger, unavoidable flame (pantry scene was definitely that unavoidable flame lol)

It's why I really love Spite's reaction to rook in general because it really feels like rook is that first kind and friendly face that they gravitated to and saw as their anchor from the get go.

And specifically for Rosemary, she is very much purple rook and certified yapper so she was definitely an odd one in terms of the crows. Like she's good at being a crow/assassin but she's also a talkative, jokey and bright laughter type of person. To him, she gives off the vibe of a morning coffee, a little pick-me-up that helps start his day.

Also Viago def told her when she was younger to stay away from the Dellamortes but just one look at Lucanis in the Ossuary and she was like "All right, bet. I'm going to take every chance I can get to talk to him even if I have to visit him everyday in the pantry and dining hall when he can't sleep. :)" She never saw him as this imposing figure, the grandson of the First Talon or Demon of Vyrantium, but rather just Lucanis who she could velcro herself to.

And rather than Lucanis becoming upset or annoyed with her, he found himself actually enjoying her company and sometimes hoping she would show up (The whole "your voice is a comfort"). Just late night chats over coffee and hot chocolate, exchanging stories and banter. Just two crows who slowly kept adding metaphorical twigs and trinkets into their little nest. ;)

[crazy-valley]

Draw Lighter Phoenix in inanimate insanity. Just doing anything, can be any season you want.

Would also be cute to see Lighter Phoenix with your favorite object show character :3

SCREENSHOT REDRAWS!!! :D

"Well, ___, isn't that just interesting? Have you ever analyzed dirt? Well, HOW ABOUT NOW!? IS IT INTERESTING ENOUGH? YOU GOT ENOUGH INFORMATION DOWN THERE? WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO?! WRITE IT ON YOUR BLOG!?"/quote

—

I can't pick a favorite character but I really like pin so here's Phoenix gently holding her cause it's 3am and I can't come up with anything else

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Autumn (Cregan Stark x Reader)

Summary: As a Princess, you aren’t used to rejection. But Cregan, your husband, has vowed to only ever love one woman, and it isn't you. Right?

Warnings: Unreliable narrator!!!! Mature language. Descriptions of grief.

A/N: I was not expecting the response my silly little idea has gotten. I am very thankful for all of you who decide to read it, and would love to hear what you think of this chapter. Series masterlist here.

YOU CRUMPLE THE letter in your fist, hearing the parchment wrinkle with a satisfying sound. Then, you throw it into the flames, watching as the fire grows slightly bigger, and the ball uncurls, alight for a second, before it is fully consumed.

It doesn’t soothe you as you thought it would. The odious parchment offering you an honor guard from your future husband might be gone, but you still have to journey North before a moon since Luke’s funeral has passed.

At the thought of your brother, a sharp, stabbing pain, manifests in your chest. You choke down a sob. You had not realized you had started to measure time like this. Before and After Luke’s death, as people did with Before and After the Conquest.

Your grief only serves to fuel your rage, though. How could he? How could he demand you be wed when you were still in mourning? When you were still thinking of your sweet brother, not of keeps, and lords, and men?

“You dare!” You screech, barging inside Jacaerys’ rooms. Whatever he is doing, hunched over his desk, is interrupted. “You cannot do this to me! Mother will not allow it.”

Jace sets down his quill. He turns to look at you, his expression calm. You would think him indifferent, were it not for the fact that there is the slightest furrow of his brows.

“We need men.” He states, simply, and when you are about to interrupt him to say there are many more in the realm, he keeps speaking. “We need his men. The North is the largest kingdom, you know this as well as I. And when a Stark calls the banners, they are the only ones who respond in full.”

Your hands ball into fists. You hate that he is acting so composed, so rational. After Luke died, you felt like a chained dragon, roaring your grief and wishing to be freed to set ablaze those that had wronged you. Once, you had been as gracious as him and mother, composed even in the height of emotion. But grief has made you into live lighting, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.

Your emotions are out of control. You know this. You get angered at the barest hint of an insult, you cry as easily as a newborn babe. Knowing it doesn’t stop you from lashing out, though. It only makes you regret it later.

“Our mother promised I was to have my pick of suitors, not that I would be sold like a cow!” You point an accusing finger to his chest. Jace sighs and gets up, surrounding the desk.

“I understand you are upset.” He tries offering you a hug, but you jerk away. His face hardens slightly. “But this is war.”

As if you do not know. As if you haven’t lost a sibling, too. Your face crumbles, and Jace calls your name, but hearing his voice, how similar Luke and him sound, only makes you cry harder.

“Hey, hey, it’s not so bad.” He hugs you, pressing your face against his doublet. The material is soft against your skin, and you feel tempted to let go of your rage against him and sink into his arms. Jace is barely a man, too, just as you are barely a woman. He is doing as best as he can, spread too thin by the weight of responsibility that comes with being heir. “Cregan is a good man. I got to know him during the time…”

Yes, he was doing as best as he could. But it hadn’t been his own hand that he had bartered away, had it? The insidious voice in your head asks. It isn’t him who is making a sacrifice. And such a hollow one. He claims to need men, but he won’t be getting even the full northern army.

“You sold me for a few Greybeards! Not even a proper army! Good Gods, you are a fool.” You cry out.

“Lord Stark assures me…” Jace starts, with the tone of someone who has already had this same argument. Were you thinking clearly, you would pause and realize why. Instead...

“He has put a wife in the grave already.” It is the only thing you know about him. Not much is whispered about Cregan Stark, at least, nothing concerning. You would remember it. The only thing that you know, though, is that he is a Stark and his wife is dead.

“You make it sound as if he killed her himself with his bare hands.” Jace scoffs. “I assure you, he dearly loved Arra Norrey and would have never harmed her. You know the dangers of childbirth. Perhaps even better than I.”

Perfect. He hadn’t killed the damn woman, he was just still in love with her. By the Seven, Jace was a fool. You hated being second in anything. Here, at home, you were already second to Jace, and you resented it. Being a twin meant having to share everything, including the love of those around you.

When you married, you had hoped to be the only woman in your husband’s life, not to be compared to a ghost. You had seen exactly how that went. King Viserys had never forgotten his first wife, calling for her years after her death, even as Alicent was the one to nurse him during his illness.

“He is still a widower.” You repeat, stubbornly.

Jace pinches the bride of his nose, before letting out a deep exhale. His next words are spoken extremely slowly, as if talking to a child. It makes you bristle.

“You said you were afraid of childbirth, and he already has an heir. There is no better solution.”

It would be thoughtful, were it not for the fact that:

“His first wife died in childbirth!”

As Jace prepares a scathing comeback, face scrunched up in mirrored displeasure to your own, the voice of your mother startles you both.

“What is going on here?” She asks, mouth pursed in an expression identical to Jace. The Queen looks as regal as ever, and it only serves to make you feel a tad embarrassed. With wild hair and eyes, face flushed from rage, you are sure that next to her, you must look like a wilding. “Why can the whole castle hear your quarrel?”

“It’s his fault.” You accuse, pointing at Jace.

“My fault?!” He says, placing his hands on his hips. “Apologies, I think they didn’t hear your screeching about Lord Stark in Driftmark!”

“So you informed her?” Your mother asks, calmly. Too calmly for someone who has just found out. Had it been her plan all along?

“Did you knew all along?” You whisper.

Rhaenyra turns to look at you. As always, your mother has a smile ready for you, but as of late, they are laced with sadness. This one is no exception.

“I did. I think it is for the best. You will be safer next to Cregan Stark, in Winterfell, than you could ever be here.”

You examine her expression. Her eyes are swollen and red rimmed, grief clouding her regal face. There is a certain determination in her features, a calm acceptance in her eyes, that tells you that her mind is already made.

Her face is not one of a distraught mother who will soon give her daughter away. You know her too well to mistake it for that.

“You hoped for this.” You keep your voice dangerously low, your anger threatening to bubble up in your throat. “You did because I have no dragon. I bet you are scheming to send Rhaena away too!”

Your mother doesn’t answer.

Her silence is damming. You turn to look at Jace, disbelieving. Of course the two of them had been scheming behind your back. Your brother had always been the closest one to your mother.

“And neither of you could tell me to my face?” You ask, letting out a hysterical laugh. “I had to find out from a letter from fucking Cregan Stark. I am not leaving. You cannot make me. ”

Suddenly, your mother grabs you by the shoulders. Her face is frightening, like an avenging goddess of Old Valyria. Her lips are curled back, teeth bared, and her eyes are as wild as yours.

“Listen to me!” She says, shaking you hard. Tears begin to fall from her eyes, but she doesn’t seem to register them. “Listen to me! Luke is dead. He is dead, and you will obey me because I cannot bear to lose any more of my children. You are going North. Your Queen commands it.”

She turns on her heel and leaves, leaving you standing on still shaking legs.

CREGAN HAD BEEN lingering near the entrance of Winterfell ever since his men had spotted the Queen’s banner on the horizon. Back then, they had expected the party to arrive in half a day. He didn’t care if he appeared too eager, his usual stoicism was failing him in the face of his nerves.

The first time Cregan had married, he had known the bride for a long time. Arra had been his childhood companion, and they had spent many moons together, playing Come-into-my-castle and Bears-and-maids. Cregan had unfortunately been the maid many more times than he preferred.

He had not feared marriage then. Spending forever chained to another person wouldn’t be so bad if that person was Arra.

Now, he did. Cregan had been content on his own, and had no desire to remarry. Even if he had, a southron princess wouldn’t have been his first choice. Though Prince Jacaerys had been honorable and dutiful, he was still naive. They were nearly of an age, but when Cregan had stood next to him, he had felt as old as his Greybeards.

A naive little princess would never survive in the North. His lords would eat her alive. The Lady of Winterfell couldn’t be some frail little thing, she had to be strong. Strong enough to hold Winterfell in his absence if needed, were the threat from beyond the Wall come to pass.

Arra had been the only woman he had thought of marrying because she had been the only woman he had thought fit to the task. She had been of the North, as he was, and it had helped him envision a future together where they ruled over the very same land that had birthed both of them.

It was only adequate that the Lady of Winterfell was a woman of the North. Southron Princesses, especially those who had been groomed to marry inside the family, could be of little help running a keep. If he had to remarry and choose a southron, Cregan would have preferred a stronger one.

Yet if wishes were dragons, beggars would soar through the skies. Prince Jacaerys had seemed a bit insulted at his offer of Greybeards, but with winter coming, it was all Cregan could spare. He was no stranger to political games, though, and knew he had to smooth down the feathers his offer had ruffled.

Hence, the offer. To receive the toothless dragon in his home and keep it safe. A favor, from an older brother to another. The Gods knew if Sara was near war at all, Cregan would do everything in his power to send her somewhere safe. He would be forever indebted to the man who aided him to do so.

And Prince Jacaerys, showing himself to be the dutiful prince and brother he was, had understood the offer for what it was. A true alliance. A Pact of Ice and Fire, to bound their bloodlines and keep the beloved, but defenseless sister safe.

It had impressed Cregan. Jacaerys was a serious man, no matter his dubious parentage. He could picture himself following him. After all, his Targaryen blood and character were the important part. That was what made him a worthy King.

Without a dragon of your own, your journey had been perilous. He knew you had ridden without banners until you had safely arrived into northern territory, a feat that had taken you a whole moon. Cregan had offered to have his men meet you halfway, but his letter doing so had gone unanswered. It had only prompted new anxieties for him.

What if he failed to fulfill his promise because you were abducted or harmed in the journey? What if the people riding with Black banners weren’t truly your honor guard, but an ambush prepared by the enemy?

Cregan doubted he would be at ease until he saw you emerge out of your wheelhouse, whole and unscathed. Hence, his waiting by the door. He would not be nervous a moment longer than he needed to.

The first thing Cregan saw was that your honor guard was smaller than he expected. He had known you would travel with a sparse escort, as to not attract undue attention. It was a miracle you had made it here with only ten guards, though. The wheelhouse and the men carried so many packages that Cregan would have known you were a Princess even without expecting you. Anyone would have known.

In contrast, the woman who stepped out of the wheelhouse wasn’t miraculous nor was she what Cregan envisioned when thinking of a Princess.

You were… Pitiful. Cregan understood now why Prince Jacaerys was so desperate to protect you. You wouldn’t survive a winter in the North, hells, it looked like a strong breeze would blow you away.

Your hair and eyes were as dark as the ones of your brother. You wore a pretty wool dress, in mourning black. The lacings on the back were done too tightly, a lot of the ribbon hanging limply, and the dress was loose around your chest and hips. It was clear you had recently lost weight, probably during the journey because the gown hadn’t been altered to fit you.

There were dark circles under your eyes, which were also red rimmed. Your skin was pale, your dark hair braided back in a severe style. Grief didn’t suit you. You looked small and sad, despite having a pleasing figure.

It didn’t help that the dress you had chosen was one far too thin for a sensible northern woman to wear. The day wasn’t even that cold, but you were already shivering. It was barely snowing, for the Gods’s sake!

Cregan approached you and gave you a bow.

“Princess.” He extended his arm to you. You took it, shivering. “I trust your journey was pleasant?”

“Pleasant enough.” At least your voice isn’t frail. The last thing Cregan needed was a soft-spoken southron lady. You even manage to smile at him, which makes you look considerably more attractive.

Cregan would admit one thing, and one thing only: Queen Rhaenyra made pretty children. Both you and Jacaerys had sinful mouths and bewitching dark eyes, though he found yours far more pleasing.

“I am sorry for your loss.” He says, as he escorts you inside Winterfell. Your trembling intensifies, instead of subsiding in the warmth of his hall. You say nothing.

When he risks a glance at your face, your eyes are suspiciously wet. You avoid meeting his eyes, even as he offers you the customary salt and bread.

“I remember when Arra got here.” Cregan offers, awkwardly. He isn’t quite sure of what to say to a grieving Princess, so he decides to share something about himself in hopes that you will open up too. He desperately needs to change the subject. Or to start a subject. He is not picky, anything that keeps you from crying will do. “She brought less of a procession than you did. And less luggage.”

“She was quite closer to home than I.” You reply, and your tone has regained strength. You no longer shake, body stiffer. Cregan decides to take it as a good sign. You are clearly struggling to get a hold of yourself, which is why you turn so tense, so he decides to keep speaking to give you some more time.

“She was. By far a more practical woman.” He smiles at you, teasingly. “But if the fuss makes you happy…”

You laugh. When he gets to know you better, Cregan will realize that your laughter wasn’t genuine.

He will also realize this had been the moment your heart iced over.

YOU PAGE THROUGH your book, in silence. Winterfell doesn’t have court musicians, and for that, you are thankful. Silence has always been your preferred companion right before bed. That, and a good book.

Your obsession with Valyrian history and traditions had been carefully nurtured by your stepfather, Daemon. Neither your mother nor siblings had much interest in your shared heritage, beyond the ability it gave them to ride dragons.

While Baela and Rhaena spoke fluid High Valyrian, the same could not be said for your brothers. As the only girl in the household, your lessons had been spent with the former and not the latter, forcing you to improve. Once you did, you had found reading the tales of old was a pleasant pastime.

You enjoyed laying in bed and imagining all the stories about magic, dragons, and empresses. When you had turned four and ten, Daemon had gifted you your very own book with Valyrian tales, a beautifully bound and illustrated edition that had followed you in your journey North.

“For you to read to your future children.” He had said, back then. You had barely flowered, so you had laughed. “I mean it, Princess. Out of my three girls, you are the only one I envision doing so.”

The day he had acknowledged you as one of his daughters, even if you didn’t share blood, was the happiest nameday you had had. He was right, too. As much as you loved the twins, you couldn’t picture them being motherly. Baela would have to have a son, to inherit after Jace, but you believed that it would be him who took charge of the more fatherly duties while she dedicated herself to statecraft. Rhaena, instead, had a thirst for adventure, to travel and know the world. Her ambition wasn’t conducive to motherhood either.

You, instead, had always dreamed of marrying a man who loved you and starting a family of your own. You envisioned yourself as the lady of a great keep, where you would rule fairly, and raise your children without wet nurses.

Those dreams had already been shattered. The man you had married didn’t love you. He had only done so to secure an alliance. And the man already had a child of his own, an heir. There was no need for you to be a mother anymore.

You turned another page of your book, watching the beautiful illustrations. You had dreamed of reading this to a little girl who looked like you, or perhaps a boy that would have looked like the man of your dreams. They would have learned High Valyrian, and spoke it as beautifully as your mother and stepfather did.

It would not come to pass. Not any longer.

A soft knock on your door makes you set down your book, closing it with great care. Then, you get up and put on your robe over your sleeping shift.

“You may enter.”

Your husband steps in, dressed for bed already. He is a handsome man, you think, biting your lower lip. Tall, dark and handsome, Cregan is the sort of man your childhood self would have pictured marrying.

He could have been the perfect man to fall in love with, were it not for the fact that he would never love you back. He already loved someone else, someone who you could never aspire to match. His first wife, Lady Arra.

As Alicent had learned, it was impossible to overshadow a ghost. Dead as she was, she could never make mistakes. He would forget all her imperfections.

She gave him a child, she was the wife he chose. The one he married for love, not duty. A practical, northern woman his bannermen had surely liked far more as a match to him than a soft southron princess who didn’t even have a dragon.

“I was wondering if you would welcome my company tonight, Princess.” Your husband says, voice emotionless. He is only here because of duty, it seems. “We could share the bed.”

“You said we could wait to consummate our union.” You keep your voice firm. It is not a task you anticipate eagerly, but you are not afraid of it either. You had seen enough of your mother and Daemon to know bedding someone can be pleasing. It is only the awkwardness of doing so with a stranger that puts you off.

“I was not referring to that.” Your husband says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “The nights are cold in Winterfell. Is it wrong for a man to seek closeness to his wife?”

You frown. His behavior is most puzzling. He intends to share your bed… To sleep? Your mother shared her bed with Daemon, but she also bedded him. It makes no sense to you that he wants to sleep next to you without touching you. Most marriages don’t do that. Much less if they are political matches.

“It is not a sin. But why would you..?” You question, but your Lord Husband is getting up already, huffing. He seems angered that you are unable to understand his message, whatever it might be. He storms off, leaving you confused over his behaviour.

That night, Cregan dreams of running. Of having a snout covered in blood, of jumping into the river, trying to trap a seahorse.

He never manages to. Wolves aren’t meant to hunt seahorses.

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

Steve calling you from work, a low rasp curled around that dripping, honey hot tone of his. It slaps you in the belly, finding its home - warm and slick between your legs.

“I need your pussy.”

“Steve,” you make your arguing case, but you can’t deny how you’re already tightening your thighs together, how you’re staring past the living room book-shelve just thinking about it.

“Yeah, honey? Fuck, I’m stocking some tapes in the back. You wanna start touching yourself a little for me?” There’s a breaking pause, a few deep breaths that you can imagine him shrugging into, and then he’s speaking as if his mouth is covering the phone piece in a rather crude manner.

“On second thought, don’t touch yourself. I wanna be the first to feel how wet you’ve gotten.”

“You’re at work, Harrington.” You’re scolding, even unconvinced by how out of it you already sound. You can practically hear that smirk on the other end of the line.

“Lucky for me and you, I just went on my lunch hour.”

You know that you want to, you’re well aware that he needs you to. But it’s fun to play with him a little. “Do you even have a condom on you? Last I checked, you needed to make a drug store trip.”

He doesn’t bite the playful line, instead, he rides in on a mischievous one and delivers you a golden platter offer. You picture him right now, one hand on his hip, breathing heavily, tongue poking from the side of his mouth, one arm elongated to prop against the paneled wall. He speaks with molten precision, making you choke on a whine.

“Let me finger you for a little bit? Please? It’s what I’ve been thinking about all day. Just gotta touch you.” He can tell how shakily your breathing has gotten, images of that wet patch soaking your underwear begin to overtake him. He whines, throat muscles tightening as he tries to hold it back. Licking his lips, he continues. “Make you cum, kiss your pretty little neck. And when I get home, you can use me as your personal trampoline.”

“Oh, god. Steve, I —“

“ — You’ll see me in ten minutes?”

“Five. I’ll meet you in the storage closet.”

It took you approximately four minutes to drive from your home to Family Video, and twenty seconds to get out of your seatbelt and into the building. Steve was waiting to your right, immediately closing in behind you to flip the closed sign, not bothering with the door lock as he guided you with a massive palm to the storage closet. Once you were inside, he lifted you around the waist onto your tiptoes, always strong enough to make you feel as tiny waisted as his former flames. You aren’t a bigger girl, not with him, you are Steve Harrington’s girlfriend, you are a woman, no size in mind, and he can never seem to keep his hands off you. He’s already burrowing into your neck, helping you find purchase against the small table stand, his shoes scuffing across the cheap flooring below.

His cologne blends in with the delicious spice of his work day sweat, stains underneath his arms on his polo. You toss a hand around his neck to hold on, opening your legs as he works with precision to get your jeans and panties down around your knees. His palm glides along the plush over your overflowing belly, giving a soft rub, encouraging by your mouth when it finds his face and leaves wet kisses all across. His jeans are so tight he feels like he’s going to burst, heart in his throat, ready to explode with love confessions and declarations of worship. Everyday with you, like this, trusting and close, Steve didn’t realize sex could be like this — mutual admiration and pure love, built on years of friendship and trust.

He gets emotional half the time you’re both physical, always finding the foundation that brought you two here. He’s completely gone when you’re whispering, “touch me, please?”

Who is Steve to not oblige? He’s met with such a soaked result that he bucks into your mouth at his temple, apologizing. “You’re wetter than I thought you’d be. You sure you didn’t play with yourself already?”

“You know I didn’t.” It’s you whose mouth has found his jawline, spare hand wrapping around the tendons in his wrist, shivering, driving the pathway. You’re fogged, eyes wet with tears of want and raw desire. “Put your fingers in me. You said you wanted to make me cum, so do it, Steve.”

It’s a quick moving dynamic, mouths pressed, touching, only to part, but remaining pressed together seconds later, drunk on trembling breaths as he goes knuckle deep, and you’re already trying to bounce yourself on his hand, sopping wet noises echoing with panting breaths and heaving chests in the expanse of the space you’re in. He coaxes you to slow down, to feel him give you pleasure. But from the way he’s whining, you aren’t so sure he won’t come from this. And that’s what helps you open up to the second finger, elated into desperation. After a few kisses, he finds your throat to lavish with that hot mouth of his, making better than good on his promise.

[the-world-of-nai]

pick a sign; a message you need to hear right now✧.*

pile 1 -> pile 2 pile 3 -> pile 4

I RECOMMEND LISTENING TO THE SONG OF YOUR PILE BECAUSE THEY ARE REALLY SPOT ON THIS TIME AROUND!!

pile one

you have a strong energy. some of you could be in a situationship/friends w benefits, or entering one soon. you are someone who takes pride in their appearance. you could also be popular or have some level of fame. if that is not the current case, then it is coming in the near future. it's advised that you have more fun in life. dream more, think bigger, and have more fun. i see that you may have some mental fog right now because you overthink things quite a bit. you may feel like you are not smart, or do not make smart decisions. i advise you to get rid of this insecurity. go out and party with your friends. focus on your healing. focus on the dreams and hopes you had as a child. they will guide you.

zodiac: aquarius, leo

song: basics - twice

pile two

you are in a stable, self-focused energy. i see you have been building up your wealth. either your investments have paid off and you are now rich, or that is coming in the near future. it is advised that you do not make any sudden decisions at this time. resist the urge to be impulsive. take plenty of time to rest, relax, recharge and better understand your own emotions. emotional stability is highlighted here. i see this pile has been working on themselves. money is coming in like crazy. and what's more is a twin flame relationship. if you are already with someone, i see this person could be the one. if you are single, get ready for someone coming in very soon. continue to stay in this emotionally mature, self-nurturing energy and you will attract great things in your life!

zodiac: pisces, gemini

song: radio - lana del rey

pile three

wow.. the energy of this pile is heartbreaking. i am sorry for whatever it is that you are going through. i see some of you could be going through a breakup, conflict with loved ones, etc. lots of conflict here. i am seeing something about divorce, so some of you may be divorced or your parents have just been divorced. i see that you may be depressed, extremely sad and heartbroken. if that is the case, i am so sorry. you may be feeling stuck in life and like you do not know how to move forward. spirit is saying that the troubles in your life stem from those around you. they are causing you grief and anxiety. it is advised that you direct all of your energy into yourself, your career and creative hobbies. take advantage of this loneliness by becoming the person you always dreamed of being. keep the faith, keep your head held high. it may help you to delve deeper into spirituality at this time. this is just a bad chapter, things WILL get better so DO NOT GIVE UP!

zodiac: taurus, pisces, aquarius, leo

song: epiphany - bts

pile four

you may be in denial of something in your life right now. i see that you are the type of person who will lie to yourself about your current situation so that you can avoid making the necessary changes. you are either in a toxic relationship, or you are a toxic individual. toxic individual can mean many things, but in this case i am getting that you exhibit self destructive and toxic behaviors, yet you do not change them. you may lie to other people often, you may smoke a lot or sleep around a lot too. you could be this way because of a significant relationship in your life that came to an end. you may be the type of person who enjoys conflict in relationships because that is normal to you. it is advised that you address these patterns and heal them if you want to be truly happy in this lifetime.

zodiac: capricorn, taurus, gemini, libra, aquarius

song: love foolish - twice

[mintmatcha]

So does Kirishima ever threaten sero when he keeps asking about reader?

Sero's phone buzzes across the table, barely audible over the thrum of fake gunfire. The round's just begun, so Kirishima tries to ignore it, but his friend is already squirming in his seat.

"Someone's home from cram school." Sero's hunched over himself, controller basically in his face. His smile is suspiciously taut, lips parted over his perfectly straight teeth. "I'm out after this round."

Of course he is. That's all these sleepovers have become: charades for him to sneak over and see you.

"My dad's going to be pissed if he finds out you snuck out." Kirishima says. It's not really true - he'd probably applaud Sero before anything else - but the lie feels good to say. He's already jamming the controller harder than he should, the plastic edge digging into his palm.

"I'm not scared of your dad-- he loves me."

Kirishima sinks back into the couch. His character's already dead, laying there, waiting to be revived.

"I just-" He shouldn't say anything. "Can you not mess with her, please?"

With a snort, Sero looks over, his expression unchanged until he takes in Kirishima's look.

"What do you mean?" Sero shrugs, turning back to the television. "We just, like, hang out and junk. Watch some anime, make out. Nothing major."

"But she's really nice," Kirishima says, carefully. "And really lonely. If you're just gonna treat her like-"

With a grunt and a gasp, Sero's character's dead now too. He places his controller down pointedly.

"Like what?"

Kirishima swallows down the lump in his throat.

"Like every other girl." The red head crosses his arms. "If you're going to treat her like every other girl, you should just leave her alone."

Scoffing, Sero looks at his friend, lips parted in a clownish frown. "What does that mean?"

"You know what it means."

Sero pushes off of the couch.

"Whatever, Kirishima." He tucks his hands into his pockets, fists balled. "Just because you don't like girls-"

Everything goes hot. From his fingertips, to his toes, the the space behind his eyes, every part of Kirishima's body suddenly burns. The heavy space in his throat is suddenly dry, crumbling, sticking up any words that could possibly come out. All he can do is sit there and stare, eyes wide, expression gaunt.

"I like girls." Kirishima can't help but think that Sero looks particularly good in the low light - those soft child's features melting away into his late teens, cheekbone cut by the diffused light of the television screen- and that makes his stomach even more sour. "I'm not-- "

The tension shrinks out of Sero's body as he seems to process what he said. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I like girls."

"I didn't mean it like that, Kiri, just-"

Kirishima finds his feet. Sero's taller, but Kirishima's bigger, muscle built out from training. When he folds his arms, he bunches his biceps up and tucks his fists behind them. The harrowed heat inside him has changed to a burning anger.

"Do you even like girls?" The words tumble out on their own. "Because all you do is treat them like garbage. "

Sero laughs, light and airy in the way that only fuels the flame.

"We all know you're just acting like this-" Kirishima shouldn't say it. He's not even supposed to know; it's drama passed to him through classmates, whispered behind Sero's back- "Because your dad cheats on your mom."

Sero blinks as if he's been slapped. Then, he blinks again. His tongue rolls over his teeth, measuring his emotions.

"Don't talk about my mom."

"Don't say that I don't like girls!"

The silence between them is wild, like static. It burns, it demands to be filled by something other than Kirishima's heavy breathing, but instead they both look at each other, firm, resolved.

"Fine." Sero snatches his phone from the table. "Whatever, Kiri. Least I get to make out with people."

In three big steps, he's gone, into the hall and presumably out of the apartment all together. Kirishima's silence goes softer.

"I like girls," he says to the television screen.

[ariasakka]

Two is better than one

All Might and Endeavor 18+ MDNI

Size difference, daddy kink, age difference, smut, threesome, nsfw, female reader

All Might in big form the whole story.

8k words

Genuinely don’t know how I made this so long. Guess I really love my beefy dilfs.

Not a writer please don’t expect this to be perfect or the most grammatically correct!

This is fiction and should be treated as such. If any of the topics in this make you uncomfortable at any time please don’t continue to read this. <3

✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽:ﾟ･⋆｡✰⋆｡:ﾟ･*☽✰⋆｡:ﾟ*☽

You work with Hawks. You and Hawks are the same age so you’ve grown to be quite close. Best friends. Because Hawks see’s Endeavor and the other hero’s often you naturally run into Endeavor and All Might quite regularly. Endeavor has taken a liking to you the second Hawks first introduced you to him. He’s not good at expressing emotions and feared pissing off Hawks by hitting on his friend so he kept his feelings to himself. That was until All Might also started taking a liking to you. He could see how All Might eyed at your perky breasts and tight ass in your skin tight costume like a filthy teenage boy. Endeavor was judging as if he was any better. Unlike Endeavor, All Might was quite charming. He flirted with you casually to test the waters on how you felt about him. Not really caring about the age difference because he’s quite confident in his bigger form. Plus after all he’s All Might what’s not to love? He even went as far as to ask Hawks about your interests and to see if you thought he was attractive non platonically. To All Mights satisfaction your feelings were mutual. He had quickly won you over with his charms and compliments. All Might had been planning on asking you out for dinner having a nice home cooked meal. Hawks casually told Endeavor not thinking anything of it. The second Endeavor heard the words come out of Hawks mouth he was furious. His flames blared hotter and bigger than usual. Growling to himself in displeasure. He asked Hawks in a demanding tone how to win over a younger woman. Hawks not wanting to start trouble with his grumpy friend told him to just tell you that you were beautiful and smelled nice. He also said “some women like the grumpy rich type. Swoon her with your money I don’t know.”

Endeavor quickly dropped everything he was doing to go 7 floors down to your office. He quickly stops at the vending machine to get you your favorite coffee told to him by Hawks before going to you. When he arrived he knocked on your door with clammy hands. Damnit why was he feeling nervous. He hated it but he knew he wasn’t going to loose you to All Might. No more being second place to that asshole.

You speak muffled from behind the door. “Come in!” God even your voice is beautiful. So sexy Endeavor thinks to himself.

Endeavor slowly opens your office door and sits down on the chair infront of you. He places the coffee down infront of you.

Endeavor

“Here, I bet you need this you’ve been working a bit. You’ve always been one of the best workers here.”

You

“Oh thank you. This is my favorite coffee! You shouldn’t have Mister Endeavor. I was just about to get some myself. What did you need sir?”

Endeavor grins to himself feeling proud of himself for getting you the coffee. His cock was twitching slightly at how you called him “Mister Endeavor” you were always so formal and polite it drove him wild. It was one of the reasons you were one of the only people he greeted every morning. Hearing your voice every morning was his guilty pleasure. He was fuming that it took having All Might want you for him to build up the courage to ask you out.

Endeavor

“If you have time this afternoon I’d like to take you out on a date. You wouldn’t have to worry about anything I can pick out a dress for you. Even shoes. I just need to know your size. I can make reservations at a restaurant aswell.”

You nearly choke on your coffee. You’d always found Endeavor to be far too sexy but never thought he’d like you too.

Endeavor moves the chair closer to you when he sees you choke slightly at your coffee. He pulls the coffee from your hand setting it down on the table. He wipes a droplet of coffee running down your chin with his thumb.

Endeavor

“God you’re so beautiful. I apologize I should’ve asked you sooner but your beauty is intimidating.”

God how could you say know when he just said that. You look up at him face flushed from his touch.

You

“Intimidating? You flatter me. I’d be more than happy to go on a date with you sir.”

Endeavor bites his lip at the mention “sir” you’re so formal he likes a young woman with class. He doesn’t want you to just look at him as a hero or as Hawks older friend though so he insists that you just call him Enji.

Endeavor

“Just call me Enji please. 7pm tonight work? Sushi?”

You

“Yes Enji that’s perfect. My dress size is a 4. Shoe size is 6.”

Endeavor

“Good. I’ll bring you the dress at 5. You can shower in the office showers at the top floor if you want. Just tell them I sent you.”

You

“Thank you Enji, I think I will shower before actually. It’ll make me feel more awake.”

He was hoping that you’d say that. He takes it as a sign you actually like him if you’re willing to spruce up before your date with him. Also the thought of you showering in the same area he does in the mornings when he’s worked too late and had to sleep over at the office turns him on immensely.

As Endeavor gets up to leave you can’t help but blush while he’s not looking. His boldness made you completely forget about the crush you also had on All Might.

Right as Endeavor exists your office he sees All Might walking towards your office in the hallway. He chuckles in his face knowing you accepted him first. He turns to All Might blocking him from entering your office door.

Endeavor

“Too late number one she accepted a date from me first.”

All Might smirks before speaking

“Hah! She’s a young girl. Do you really think she’d want to be tied down by a big grumpy man like you? Especially with all your “family drama”. I’m not a jealous man unlike you. She could have both of us if she pleased I wouldn’t mind.”

Endeavor growls knowing he’s probably right

“Ask her whatever you want after our date tonight damnit!”

All Might scowls and agrees. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you. He thinks you can do better than Endeavor but since Endeavor is trying to be a better person he doesn’t see you being in any danger if you choose Enji over him. All Might lays his head back on the wall near by your office to collect himself after Enji walks away. Toshinori has never been with a younger woman before. He loves how youthful and free he feels when he’s around you. It reminds him of better times. He puts his pointer finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose and ponders to himself how he can win you over. If not winning you over how can he convince you to date both of them at the same time? He wants to at least have you in some way if not all to himself. Would you really be up to that? You’d be spoiled twice as much by the two richest hero’s in Japan, what’s not to want?

As All Might still remains in place with his head leaning against the wall mind flooded with thoughts you walk out your door. You’re about to go give some papers to a coworker when you see him there.

All Might

“Hey pretty lady didn’t see you there. Sorry have a migraine.”

The only excuse he can think of for the sour look on his face

You

“What brings you here handsome?”

Woops you’re so used to having a flirty relationship with him you didn’t think twice before responding like that.

All Might can feel his heart thumping faster. Did she really just flirt with me after being asked out by Endeavor? Hm maybe she really will be fine with the both of us he thinks.

All Might

“Just had some hero work to go over with Endeavor nothing serious. I missed your pretty smile.”

You blush not knowing how to respond. Your relationship has always been flirty but you’d just been asked out by Endeavor. You know he can get fisty if he doesn’t get his way. You are not wanting to find out how he is if you flirt any more with his rival. You give him a simple “that’s sweet of you” before walking away to continue your work.

That night you go on your date with Endeavor. He picked out a black silk dress with matching black designer heels for you to wear. Your favorite color, you’re guessing Hawks told him, that brat. Bring best friends with the both of you makes you nervous what else could Enji get out of him if he wanted.

He had a personal driver take you both to the destination. Booked a private booth at a sushi restaurant with a candle lit on the table hand picked by yours truly. He could be quite romantic outside of work you were pleasantly surprised. The date went well he was much more talkative and charming than you would have expected. Not like you’re complaining though. You liked this side of him.

When the evening was over Enji dropped you back off at your apartment like a gentlemen. He gave you a kiss on the cheek goodnight. You grabbed his tie hungry for more placing a kiss on his lips. Enji growls softly in pleasure from your kiss. He’s lifting you lip gently by your waist to hold your face at his more comfortably. It takes everything in him not to take you right then and there but he holds back knowing he wants you for more than just sex. Not wanting to give you the wrong idea on the first date. If it wernt for his driver waiting for him he probably wouldn’t have been able to hold himself back despite how he knows he should behave.

Later that night All Might can’t hold himself back and ends up texting you, asking you how you feel about him. You’re reluctant to answer tip toeing around the subject. Toshinori confesses that he wanted a relationship with you and not just a flirty friendship. Figuring if he confesses first you’ll be less hesitant to tell him your true feelings.

His text:

Y/N I’ve had feelings for you for quite some time. You’re so funny, stunning, smart, and witty you make me feel like I’m young again. I was too busy with hero work for most of my life to worry about a relationship I wasn’t expecting to fall for someone this late in life but here I am falling like a fool. Head over heels for a girl over half my age and way out of my league. I want to be more than a friend who flirt with you. I’m sorry for telling you this now I just couldn’t hold it in any longer.

- Toshi🩷

Your text:

Toshinori, I’m so sorry. To be completely honest I feel the same way. I like you too. You’re very funny, charming, sweet and I love the way talking to you is so easy. I want the same thing too but I’m afraid I can’t give you what you want. Endeavor…well..Enji and I went out on a date tonight. So I’m not available anymore. I’m sorry. I would still love to be your friend. ❤️🤍🩵

His text

I would never stop being your friend y/n.

The rest of that week you and Enji start talking more at the office. Having lunch together with Hawks and him in his Endeavors office. Even going as far as to fall on asleep on call everynight with Enji aswell. You both secretly masterbating to eachothers voices from time to time on the calls. You were both surprised at how attached you were getting to one another.

That was until that weekend when All Might decided to tell Endeavor about the texting conversation the two of you had. Toshinori cornered him at his house so Enji would have no other choice than to have a conversation with him. Toshinori knocks at Enji’s door. As soon as Enji opens the door he pushes his way inside Enji’s house without invitation.

Endeavor

“Toshinori! What the hell?!”

All Might

“We need to talk. About y/n. Now.”

Enji huffs and doesn’t say a word.

All Might

“Did your date go well..”

Endeavor

“It went perfectly actually. Don’t waste my time tell me what you want.”

All Might

“After your date I might have confessed my feelings to y/n. I know- I know, I’m sorry! To be fair you did ask me to wait until after the date. I did just that. I know you’re going to be mad but she does feel the same way towards me En-“

Endeavor

“What the hell did she say”

All Might takes out his phone to show him the conversation. Enji was squeezing at the phone so hard he would’ve broken it if it wasn’t a special made hero grade smart phone.

Endeavor scoffs

“At least she’s loyal to me. You always win over everyone it pisses me off.”

All Might

“..back to the..”she can date both of at the same time” conversation. She never said she didn’t dislike me. Do you really want to deny a young woman like her fun and experience?”

Endeavor

“I-…I suppose. I wouldn’t want to make her feel held back with me. I know I can be intense.”

All Might

“Ah haha, and I’m light hearted. I think we could balance each other out with her very nicely don’t you?”

Endeavor

“..only..*only* if she wants this. Not just because you or I think it’ll be better for her.”

All Might chuckles

Endeavor

“Fuck, wait. I can’t let you fuck her. I won’t have it.”

All Might

“Why not do it together then? Not like we haven’t had threesomes together before.”

Endeavor

“We haven’t both cared about the girl before…”

All Might

“Don’t you think it’ll be a good compromise? Don’t be so strict Endeavor.”

It’ll give them peace of mind. Plus they wouldn’t mind dominating a pretty little thing like you.

Endeavor

“…I suppose I do like the idea of dominating her in that way. You can’t try to please her more than me it has to be equal.”

All Might

“You’d be the one starting the competitions. I just want her to be pleased I simply do not care if it’s you who pleasures her more as long as I get to be there watching her eyes roll back as you do.”

Endeavor

“Fine.”

Endeavor and Toshinori both decide to send you a group text

Text reads:

Think about the both of us. We know you like both of us romantically. Think of who you like the most. Or do you like both of us the same? We know you’re young. Neither one of us want to hold you back in forcing you to be with just one of us. If you want. You can date both of us separately at the same time. If you don’t want that. We understand. We just want you to choose whatever will make you happiest. Let’s all three talk on Monday okay. <3

Your anxiety spikes as you read the text. Assuming Endeavor found out about the text between you and Toshi. You figure they are bluffing that this a test this is them making you choose. You try your best to think of the two of them. You did in fact like them both.

You loved Endeavors mysterious, hard dominate edge to him. You went wild over his deep voice. You could tell he was possessive and protective. Though most others wouldn’t think so you felt safe around him. Knowing a few things Hawks has told you about him you trusted Endeavor to never hurt you and protect you from harm. He wasn’t a man of many words but oh god when he spoke it made you wet everytime. You knew he was a man who liked to be in charge. Just the idea of how he might take charge in the bedroom made you dizzy.

All Might on the other hand was charming and talkative. A big man who was quite soft. You loved the way he made you feel safe in his presence. His deep laugh sent shivers down your spine. He always laughed even if your jokes weren’t funny he was so kind to you.

Both had different qualities but both you liked equally. They were right you were young after all. What’s the harm in seeing both of them. It’s not like you’d be seeing a whole football team. Just the two of them. You’d be loyal to the two hero’s as long as they’d have you.

Monday comes and you rush to Endeavors office to talk to him about their text. You find All Might already there as well expecting you.

You

“Enji, um were you drunk when you sent that text?”

Endeavor

“No sweetheart neither one of us were drunk.”

All Might

“Did you think about the text sweet girl?”

You

“…I’m sorry what if..what if I want both of you equally?”

Endeavor

“It’s fine sweetheart, we said we’re alright sharing.”

All Might

“You can either date both of us at the same time or you can choose which one of us you prefer. There’s no rush. We can be patient right Enji?”

You chuckle thinking they’re playing a big prank on you that you don’t understand

Endeavor

“I mean it”

All Might

“Mmhmm

You

“You’re not bluffing? I thought you were bluffing.”

Endeavor

“No baby girl. It just means you get to be doubly spoiled it’s alright. To be honest we both want you too bad to not share.”

You

“I-I’m fine with dating both of you at the same time then. I mean it though. You’re both equally perfect in my head. I couldn’t choose. I tried.”

Endeavor

“The only thing we ask sweetheart is that when we’re ready to be intimate it has to be with all three of us.”

All Might

“Otherwise one of us will feel left out. We want to make sure we both pleasure you equally as good. We’ll be gentle. We promise. Right?”

Endeavor

“Promise.”

Not expecting them to ask such a thing but in all honesty you’ve always had a fantasy of being dominated by two older men you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about both of them taking you at the same time before.

You

“Alright, I see. That’s fine by me.”

Both a little surprised expecting at least some pushback from you.

Endeavor

“Don’t worry though take your time. We’re in no rush for you to be ready to be intimate with us yet. We know you probably aren’t ready.”

All Might

“Yeah sweet girl we know it takes some time before you can get used to something that big.”

You

“So can you both do other stuff first?…to warm me up? Before we go all the way?”

Endeavor

“Is that what you want?”

All Might

“Oh shut up Enji that’s what she needs. Yes we’ll give you prep. Your first session with us can be just prep no cocks inside your pussy just fingers and tongues.”

You gulp getting more turned on at their statement.

“How…how about we do that next weekend?”

Enji grips his pants tightly not expecting you to be so greedy. Not complaining just way too turned on by the anticipation.

Endeavor

“I- I’m. Yes. Is that alright with you Toshinori?”

All Might

“Sweetheart are you sure you’re ready?”

You

“As long as you go gentle I am.”

Endeavor

“I promise I’ll go easy. I can be soft.”

All Might

“Me too.”

Endeavor

“All right then it’s settled. My house. It’ll be much nicer than Toshinoris.”

All Might scoffs

Endeavor

“Oh do tell, do you have a big designer bed and a bathtub the size of a small pool in your house?”

All Might

“No…I have a normal sized bedroom with a normal sized bed..and a normal sized bath and shower..because I don’t think everything has to be perfect..”

You

“No fighting please. Let’s just do Enji’s house first..mainly..because I do want to try that bath. But we can switch places in the future it’ll be fine.”

Endeavor

“Alright, alright. I can compromise. We can switch places in the future just my place first.”

All Might

“I see you do have a soft side when it comes to her.”

Endeavor

“Who wouldn’t?”

Throughout the week you spend it getting to go on your first date with Toshinori as well as another date with Endeavor. You texted All Might throughout the day and continued calling Endeavor every night before you went to sleep. You couldn’t believe what a great time you had with the both of them. You were truly greatful they weren’t making you choose between the two. You’d die before you could choose between them.

Next weekend comes around. You arrive at Enji’s house. Toshinori is already there. You’re surprised to see them already chatting and being friendly. You spot a bottle of wine on the counter. That must be the reason they don’t hate each other right now. That and they could get along if it involved your clothes coming off.

All Might

“Hi sweetheart!”

You sit on the counter top to be at chin level with them instead of your head resting below their pecks. You expected to be more nervous. You probably should given how thick and lengthy their fingers are but you can’t help but just be needy for them instead.

Endeavor lets out a soft sultry “hi baby” before going straight to kissing your lips while gripping your waist. Toshinori grips the counter top before he joins in kissing along your collarbone moving up to the left side of your neck. You couldn’t help but let out soft moans as they both kissed you.

All Might

“You’re making such pretty sounds my god”

Endeavor

“Fuck you sound so pretty”

All Might

“Lets take her to the bedroom”

You

“Yes please”

Enji lifts you up in his arms bringing you to the bedroom. Toshinori quickly follows behind giggling in excitement behind you both. Enji sets you down on the floor by the bed. Toshinori pulls you in for a sloppy kiss. He quickly pushes you against the wall, pushed against you, lifting you up. Placing a knee in between your thighs, unable to control himself for much longer.

Enji can feel his possessiveness growing. Toshinori can hear him huffing and puffing hovering over the both of you.

All Might

“Fine. You want first at something Enji? Then fuck her first. But don’t be misled we’re sharing. She can rest her head on my lap while you have fun with her pretty hole. And don’t worry sweetheart I’ll make sure he doesn’t go too rough with you, I know he can get a little wild.”

Endeavor grins and quickly agrees. Liking the idea of a little thing like you being completly towered over and pleased by two men rather than one. Even if it was with All Might. It’s not like they both haven’t done this before with women. He wasn’t about to admit that though.

Endeavor

“Fine. Only if that’s what she wants. Are you sure you’re ready? Is that what you want sweetheart? Two big older men to take care of you? Make you fell good hm?”

You look up at both of them towering over you with egar eyes and nod

All Might

“Nuh uh sweetheart you’re going to need to use your words. Do you want us to be your daddies tonight? To take turns pleasing you? Stretching your pretty little body out?”

You speak nervously only because you’ve never felt so dominated in your life.

“I- yes. I want both of you to use me.”

Endeavor places his thumb across your lip lifting your head up to look at him directly.

Endeavor

“Tell me you want me to fuck you first baby. Tell daddy.”

You

“I want you to fuck me first Enji.”

Endeavor

“Who to fuck you first? I’m daddy now”

You

“I want you to fuck me first daddy.”

All might chimes in chuckling

“Calm down Enji we’re both Daddy to her now.”

Endeavor hisses

“Shut up. Don’t ruin the moment.”

All Might stands behind you and starts to unzip your skirt. Endeavor quickly grabs his hand pushing it away and growls. “Mine first.”

All Might chuckles at Enji’s need to be first at literally everything and complies taking a step back letting Endeavor take your clothes off. Endeavor continues to remove your clothing slowly kissing up and down your body. All Might stands behind you palming his buldge in his pants at the site of your pretty body getting more and more revealed. Enji’s growls grow louder with each bit of skin that gets revealed. He feels like he’s never seen someone so beautiful before in his entire life. You begin to unbutton his shirt. Enji leaves on his pants as an added layer of protection so he’s not more tempted to go further than agreed upon. Once all of your clothes are all over the floor leaving your tiny body fully exposed infront of the both of them, Toshi groans at the site of your ass infront of him. He can feel his precum increasing. Enji can feel his animalistic desires increasing looking at the front of your exposed body. Looking at how innocently you’re looking up at him right now. Eager to hear you moan his name soon.

All Might sits on the bed in position to have your pretty head use his thighs as a pillow. Enji instructs you to lay on the bed facing him with your head in Toshinori’s lap. You comply and do just that. As soon as you lay your head in Toshi’s thick thighs he starts to stroke your hair to comfort you for what’s about to come.

Enji lifts spreads your legs crawling on top of you placing his face inbetween your thighs.

Endeavor

“Can I start out with my tongue baby?”

You

“Yes daddy.”

Enji traces his rough tongue up and down your folds. Your legs start to shake but Enji keeps them in place. Toshinori places a thumb in your pretty little mouth.

All Might

“Suck on my thumb pretty girl. That’s it. Swirl your tongue around it for me. Mmhmm, just like that.”

He does this to take your mind off of what’s happening down below. He knows any second now Enji is going to stick a finger in. He wants you nice and relaxed so you’re able to take it better.

And Enji does just that. Once he can tell you’ve adjusted to the feeling of his tongue on your clit he sticks a meaty finger at your entrance. He slowly sinks his thick digit knuckles deep in your cunny.

Endeavor

“Sweetheart so tight. Fuck. I can feel you squeezing me.”

After a 5 minutes. You start to moan uncontrollably as he starts to thrust his finger slowly in and out of your sweet hole. The sounds of his growls while he’s lapping up your juices and the sensation of his thick finger inside of you is driving you wild. Toshinori is stroking your face sushing you.

All Might

“Shhh, take it. I know you can, my pretty girl.”

You

“Fuck Enji I think I-“

*slap* Enji pulls out his finger and leaves a gentle slap on your clit before sinking himself back in.

Endeavor

“Ah ah, who am I?”

You

“Sorry daddy. I- you’re gonna make me cum”

Enji chuckles at your words as he continues to lap up your juices. You can feel his hot breath on your cunt. You’re about to finish.

All Might

“That’s a good girl”

Your whole body looses control as you cum on Enji’s meaty finger. He doesn’t stop his tongue from swirling around either as you cum. It only makes him so faster. Toshinori pushes your face against the throbbing hardness in his pants. His face growing more flushed as you cum.

Enji lifts his head up. Kissing from your stomach all the way up to your face.

Endeavor

“Fuck yes baby. That was so good.”

All Might

“My turn now.”

Toshinori pulls your thighs with his hands bringing you to him. Endeavor grabs your arms bringing your upper body in his lap. Toshinori doesn’t waste anytime cleaning up the mess Enji made. Groaning over and over “Tastes so good. Tastes like heaven.” It was almost as if he was getting off to this more than you. After Toshinori cleaned all your juices he sticks one of his meaty fingers inside you before pulling it out. Replacing it with two of his thick fingers. You start to wine softly at the painful stretch. Enji is quick to direct your attention elsewhere, taking down his pants, climbing over sitting on your chest. Being careful to barely use any of his body weight. Looking down at you he strokes your pretty face.

Endeavor

“Gotta stretch your pretty little hole out. You’re doing so good for us.”

All Might

“So good.”

Enji slaps his thick member over your face. His distraction is working. You’re so fixated at his pretty drooling tip you don’t even notice Toshi starting to speed up his pace with his fingers.

Starting to grow hungry for Enji’s cock you start to drool slightly out of the side of your mouth.

Endeavor

“Wanna taste me baby? Want daddy’s dick down your throat? I’ll go slow.”

You

“Yes please I need to taste you so bad, fuck”

All Might chuckles and says

“I see Enji’s lost control again. I still have all my clothes on.”

Enji shoves the first few inches down your throat. Stuffing your pretty mouth. Watching how your pink lips wrap perfectly around his cock, admiring how tears are already forming in your eyes from his girth.

Endeavor

“Shh don’t act like you don’t want to fuck her throat too. Do you want him to fuck your throat after I fill you with my milk baby?”

Stuffed with his cock you nod letting out a “mmhmm”

Endeavor

“See. She wants it maybe you should stop playing cool and take off your clothes too.”

All Might

“…fuck..FUCK.”

With his free hand he takes off his top. Still pushing in and out of your pussy he uses his thumb to start rolling around your clit. Enji starts to go deeper down your throat, thrusting in an out of your mouth slowly, rolling his head back, getting close to release. He can tell by your eyes rolling back Toshi is getting you close too.

Endeavor

“Fuck so pretty, cum with me baby. Cum with me.”

Too filled at both ends to say anything or even give as much as a nod but you’re able to hold out until he cums down your throat. As Enji fills your throat you’re orgasming on Toshi’s fingers. They feel bigger the more you cum. You try to moan but nothing comes out. All it results in as you spilling some of Enji’s cum out of your throat. The sound is sex is filling the room.

Toshinori licks his fingers and Enji gets up from you. As All Might removes the rest of his clothes Enji kisses your cheeks telling you how good you were. He fingers some of the remaining mess on your face into your throat before pushing you down to your knees. Toshinori stands infront of you stroking his cock, letting his precum drip down on your face.

All Might

“Such a pretty mess. Open your mouth for daddy. Good girl.”

Endeavor

“Stick out your tongue honey.”

You so just that.

Endeavor grips the back of your hair and pushes your mouth down on Toshi’s thickness.

All Might

“No gag reflex huh? I like it.”

Endeavor

“She’s better than I thought she’d be. So egar to please her daddies.”

All Might

“Fuck that feels good. Keep making her throat fuck me like this Enji, please, fuck-“

Enji does just that. He bops your head back and fourth on Toshinori until he cums down your throat. Enji gets down on his knees and whispers in your ear “try to swallow all of it this time sweetheart, make us proud.” You try your best to do so but your mouth is so filled a little bit runs down your jaw onto your chest.

Endeavor

“Such a messy little thing.”

All Might

“Fuck, a beautiful mess.”

Endeavor uses the dripped thick cream on your chest and rolls his thumb around your nipple with it. You scream out of pleasure from over stimulation.

All Might

“Enji she’s going to break if you do anything else!”

Endeavor

“Alright alright. I’ll go start the bath.”

All Might takes you in his arms caressing your body as Enji goes to start the bath. He wipes you off with a towel before placing you both in the bath.

Enji went out of his way with the bath. Obviously new fancy soaps and shampoos anticipating you being there more often in this way. Candles lit around the tub. Flowers in a vase on the sink.

Endeavor

“Keigo told me lavander was your favorite bath scent I hope you like it.”

All Might

“Such a romantic.”

Endeavor

“For her yes.”

You move closer to Enji nuzzling up in his arms. He gently starts to caress your body.

You

“It’s perfect Enji thank you.”

Endeavor

“Didn’t go too rough did we?”

All Might

“Right?”

You

“No it was perfect, both of you. It was just a little hard to handle your fingers. I guess I didn’t realize how long it’s been since I was with someone like this before.”

Endeavor

“You did perfect baby. Don’t worry no rush to go all the way. We can keep getting you used to more fingers until you’re ready for..you know.”

All Might

“How did you like having two men please you for a change?”

You

“I liked it a lot more than I expected.”

All Might

“Oh? So you’re willing to do this more often then?”

You

“Isn’t that what you both wanted?”

Endeavor

“Yes, but we would never push you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with sweetheart.

You

“Yes, a lot more often.”

Toshinori chuckles in excitement. He comes closer to you leaving kisses on your back. Enji gently kisses your lips. Swirling his tongue around yours. They both take turns washing your body off then your hair. Then you do the same to the two big guys next.

After your bath Toshi drys you off in a warm towel while Enji gets one of his shirts for you to wear. They both lay you down on the bed giving you kisses and praises. While you take a nap to recover the two of them make some curry rice for you in the kitchen. Getting along surprisingly well. When you wake they spoil you completely until the end of the night. Giving you the best aftercare you’ve had in your entire life.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙

You continued seeing both Toshinori and Enji for the past few months. Going on equal amounts of dates each week with the two of them so neither one feels left out. They were both spoiling you like crazy. Both having the time of their lives with you. Neither one of them seem to be as jealous probably because they can tell you truly do hold an equal spot In your heart for the both of them. You’d even been having dates at eachothers houses with all three of you. It seemed like you were the glue that was slowly mending Enji and Toshinori’s relantionship. You had even told your friend Hawks about the relationship but asked him to keep it secret from everyone aside Toshi, Enji, and the two of you. He took it better than you expected. Keigo said he was just happy to see his grumpy friend finally have a girl that makes him happy for once. Keigo had been third wheeling with you and Enji quite a bit as you grew closer but he seemed to enjoy it. It was all going suprisingly well.

You’d been continuing to let the both of them use you together. Letting them have their way with their fingers and tongues on you about three times a week. Last week they both were able to fit three fingers inside your pretty little hole. You finally feel like you’re ready to take their cocks now. Or maybe you’re just being impatient. Either way you know you needed all of them soon before you went mad.

You decided to tell both of them you were ready at the next date you three had. You had all three been spending the whole weekend at Enji’s and Toshi’s house for the past few months. What better time to bring it up than when you’re all together. You had bought a red and blue lace panty and bra set to surprise them for the special occasion. Both of their favorite colors.

The weekend comes. Time for the three of yours weekend of heaven together. You arrive at Toshi’s place wearing an off the shoulder top Enji had gotten you and a skirt Toshi had bought you.

You

“Hi Toshi!” You run into his arms for a hug. Quickly realizing Enji is nowhere to be seen “Where’s Enji?”

All Might

“You look stunning as always. We were missing one of the ingredients for the meal, he ran out to get it. He’ll be back soon sweetie.”

You wait until all three of you are eating to bring up that you’re ready to take it to the next level tonight.

You all begin to eat at around Toshi’s table.

You

“So..um..I was thinking. I’d sort of like to go all the way with both of you tonight.”

Enji nearly chokes on his food

Endeavor

“I- sweetheart are you sure-“

All Might

“You can barely handle 3 fingers…honey you know we are both bigger than that. We promise no rush.”

You

“I can’t wait anymore. I need you both. Tonight. Please.”

The way you’re looking at both of them right now. Practically begging to be railed how can they deny you.

Endeavor

“Alright just tell me if it’s too much. I’ll go slow and not all the way in okay.”

All Might

“Me too love.”

You blush anticipating the rest of the evening.

After you finish eating you head to the bedroom begging both of them to follow behind you.

Enji goes to take tug on your skirt expecting to take your clothes off as usual. Unexpected to them you push both of them down on the bed and undress infront of them.

Climbing onto the bed slowly. Grinding on Enji’s lap tugging at his shirt, putting your hand down Toshi’s pants gripping Toshinori’s hardness in your free hand.

Endeavor

“Fistey thing tonight aren’t we?”

You

“Toshi. Undress.”

All Might

“I can’t argue with that.”

Toshi undresses rapidly. Enji moans louder as you continue to grind on him. After Toshi is undressed you get off the bed and instruct Enji to do the same and he does. You undress infront of them revealing your red and blue lingerie. They both groan at the sight of you. You’ve never been this bold before. They like this side of you but don’t be fooled they’re going to be ones taking charge by the end of the night.

You crawl on the bed taking turns suckling on their balls in your mouth then taking their meat down your throat to get them nice hard and wet for you.

All Might slaps his thigh

“Come here doll, on daddy’s lap.”

You do as he says. Kissing on his neck. Endeavor gets behind you pushing your back forcing your chest to touch Toshinori’s.

Endeavor

“Arch your back for me baby. I need inside you now. You’re such a tease.”

You

“Yes daddy.”

All Might warns

“Go slow Enji.”

Endeavor

“Fuck, shut up. I am.”

Enji slowly inserts his tip into your hole. Groaning at the tightness. You gasping at the stretch. It hurt more than you thought it would but you want this. You need this. You moan “fuck.” “Just hold onto me,” Toshi coos in your ear. “I’ve got you.” You hold onto Toshi’s shoulders digging your nails deeper into his skin. Toshi slowly helps you sink down onto Enji’s length.

Endeavor

“Such a good girl for your daddies aren’t you”

You

“Yes, fuck. So big- Enji- ah”

All Mights reaches his hand down to stroke your clit so you can take Endeavor easier.

Enji grunts as he’s pumping into you, prolonging every electrifying spasm of your cunny. Toshi is sushing you whispering sweet things in your ear calming you down while you take Enji’s thickness. It hurts so good. Toshinori is moaning as he watches your chest bounce up and down as Enji thrusts faster.

He pulls out after 10 minutes not wanting to go too far in fear of hurting you. He was so turned on so much of his precum is spilling out of your cunt.

All Might

“So messy Endeavor.”

Endeavor

“Fuck I’m sorry I couldn’t help it. Are you alright down there sweet girl?”

“Yes, more.” You moan

Endeavor

“Thata girl that’s what I like to hear.”

All Might

“Fuck, I’m gunna ruin you….well gently ruin you.”

Endeavor

“You just need two grown men to treat your body right.”

You

“Yes daddies.”

Enji pulls your back to him. Placing your head in his chest letting Toshinori have a turn. You watch as Toshinori places his big cock at your entrance. Enji pushes your little body down on his girth slowly. Enji whispers sweet things in your ear to calm you down as you get stretched a second time. He strokes your pretty face before moving his hand down to your cunt to trace gentle circles around your clit to ease the pain. You sob from over stimulation they both take turns sushing you cooing “shh sweetie you want to make us pround don’t you. You’re a good girl you take take it a little longer. We know you can”

Enji strokes himself with his other hand still hard. They continue taking turns until you end up cuming all over Enji’s cock. Enji moans loudly with pleasure being prideful knowing his dick was also the first you’ve came on. Toshinori positions himself inbetween your thighs, thigh fucking you so he can cum all over your pelvis and stomach. Enji stands over your face positioning his cock at your pretty mouth. Gripping the back of your head face fucking you until he overfills your pretty throat with his seed.

You’re fucked out of your mind by the time they’re through with you but you regret nothing.

All Might

“Fuck sweetie you did so well.”

Endeavor

“How are you feeling love?”

You

“A little sore but I had fun.”

All Might gets up to grab you some pain meds and water. Enji cuddles you, leaving kisses all over your face, bringing you down from your high.

All Might returns with the pain meds. After a small cuddle session you all three go to shower in Toshi’s small shower together. You take turns washing their bodies. Kissing each of their bodies up and down. Praising them for treating you so well. Endeavor lifts you up in the shower pressing you against the wall while Toshinori washes every part of your body Enji isn’t covering with a wash cloth.

Endeavor

“Baby I love you so much.”

You

“Do you mean it?”

Endeavor

“Yes sweet girl. These last few months have been the best months of my life. I have no intentions of ever giving you up.”

All Might

“Me too sweetheart. I’ve been too nervous to say the big L but now that Enji has broken the ice. I love you too. So much.”

You

“I love you both too.”

Enji chuckles. Blushing like a little schoolboy. They both kiss each side of your neck. Overfilled with love.

You

“You both spoil me too much.”

Endeavor and All Might

“We wouldn’t want it any other way. We’ll spoil you till the day we die.”

You

“I love you.”

Them

“I love you too. So much.”

Thanks for reading!

[danadiadea]

How is Snape described in the books: a relatively complete compilation

Okay, so this is my attempt at gathering what we have regarding Severus Snape's appearance based on the HP books. It's long, since rowling loved obsessively writing about Snape's looks. It's likely I've missed something, but I hope not much. I didn't dive into what he's wearing or into his self-presentation, just his physical characteristics that are present in canon – people get stupid about that topic sometimes.

Disclaimer: body positivity/neutrality to everyone, I don't support JKR's lookism just as much as all of her other bigotry. Beauty is a deeply subjective concept, no features are objectively beautiful or ugly and none of them identify us as people. The way my imagination and your imagination recreate a picture from the identical textual description might be different.

Snape's nose is constantly described as "hooked":

○"Snape approached their table, stared down his hooked nose at the roots."

○"Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin."

○"...as Snape swept by he looked down his hooked nose at it without comment" etc.

Altogether I found Snape's nose being called hooked 10 times in the series. There are places where we're shown it's rather big, but they aren't very definitive:

1) “Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people’s business.” – Marauders map, so basically bullies behaving like bullies;

2) "...hatred which had, if possible, intensified last year, when Harry had helped Sirius escape right under Snape’s overlarge nose" – Harry is very mad at Snape and the phrase is clearly used figuratively, not as a direct appearance description;

3)"In the very center of the group Harry saw the dark, greasy-haired head and prominent nose of his least favorite teacher at Hogwarts, Professor Snape" – "prominent" is a broader conception while referring to size, I'd say;

4) "[Tonks'] nose swelled to a beaklike protuberance like Snape’s" – again, the size is mentioned, but not through the words "big" or "large" or "long", and the form is given more empathis.

Undoubtedly it's supposed to be on the bigger side, but it does not, in fact, seem to be "abnormally" large. Making it straight should be a crime though – how can you make anything about that man straight?..

Snape's black eyes are often described glittering or sparkling, but also empty and cold:

○"They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels"

○"Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes"

○“But why not join the feast afterward?” said Snape, his black eyes glittering in the candlelight"

○"He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and looked quickly away."

○"He didn’t care that Snape’s face had gone rigid, the black eyes flashing dangerously."

○"Harry blinked. Snape’s eyes gleamed."

○“Don’t lie to me,” Snape hissed, his fathomless black eyes boring into Harry’s"

Snape's eyebrows aren't described in detail, we don't known if they're bushy or thin, but he does that raising one up thing:

○“Yes,” said Harry. “Who’s going to be teaching me?” Snape raised an eyebrow."

And he raises two as well:

○"Snape looked back at her, his eyebrows slightly raised"

○"Snape raised his eyebrows and his tone was sardonic as he asked, “Are you intending to let him kill you?”

Snape's skin is constantly described as sallow – about 11 times through the books. Whatever that word means. Is it like... muted and dull coloured with yellow undertones? Cool!

It's also described as pale, or white due to strong emotions:

○"An ugly flush suffused Snape’s pallid face."

○"Snape was hanging upside down in the air, his robes falling over his head to reveal skinny, pallid legs"

○"Snape’s pale face, illuminated by the flaming cabin, was suffused with hatred just as it had been before he had cursed Dumbledore."

○"As Gryffindors came spilling onto the field, he saw Snape land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped"

○"[Snape's face] was marble white and so still that when he spoke, it was a shock to see that anyone lived behind the blank eyes."

○"Snape’s sallow skin had gone the color of sour milk." (very poetic Harry, you should try writing poetry too)

Also idk what's an ugly flush (also: Harry saw the edge of Snape’s sallow face turn a nasty brick color, the vein in his temple pulsing more rapidly; a dull flush of color mounted the sallow cheeks as he looked at Lily), have never seen one in my life, but Snape's face canonically goes full red very quickly and this is the most important part of that meta don't forget about it folks.

His skin is described as greasy twice in the saga, but both times with not much credibility:

1) "Harry could see a vein flickering horribly on Snape’s greasy temple" – temple is an area of the face in close proximity to hair and we'll get there, although aren't Snape's "hair curtains" hiding the sides of his face, including temples? Is he wearing it freaking braided or what? Overall, I'd say this is just another jab at his hair.

2)"Iwas watching him, his nose was touching the parchment,” said Sirius viciously. “There’ll be great grease marks all over it, they won’t be able to read a word" – Sirius can go fuck himself.

Harry does not comment that at any age there is acne or post-acne on Snape's face so I'd assume his skin isn't problematic or he takes care of it. He has visible veins on his temples though (also no eyebags mentioned?? a crime).

Snape's lips are described as thin:

○“Now, now, Malfoy,” said Snape, though he couldn’t suppress a thin-lipped smile"

○"A muscle twitched unpleasantly at the corner of Snape’s thin mouth every time he looked at Harry"

○"The dungeon rang with the Slytherins’ laughter, and an unpleasant smile curled Snape’s thin mouth."

Characteristics of Snape's teeth got two mentions.

○"Snape’s uneven, yellowish teeth were bared." PoA

○“Ten o’clock,” whispered Snape, with a smile that showed his yellow teeth. “Poor Gryffindor ... fourth place this year, I fear ...” HPB

(Also I've literally always hc'ed that Snape is a stress smoker, and since Voldemort came back Snape just started to destroy his enamel with fervour so it coloured up more, everyone should share my headcanons i prove them so well!!!)

Snape bares his teeth some other times ("I wouldn’t bet on that,” Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth"; "It was scary: Snape’s lips were shaking, his face was white, his teeth were bared) or smiles (not pleasantly let me assure you) and most times Harry doesn't comment on it. Actually, it's hilarious how the very first time Harry saw Karkaroff he thought "his teeth were rather yellow", man, do you wanna steal Hermione parents' job? Also yellow teeth are mentioned twice for Sirius in PoA (and no one dares to not notice Gilderoy's perfect teeth, of course, he asked me to mention it). So I'd say Snape has moderately imperfect teeth like a working class kid he is, otherwise Harry would've probably commented on that as much as on Snape's hair, hence almost every time we encounter him.

(but I'm totally headcanoning high canine teeth for him, Snape deserves the privilege of having some more vampirish vibe for free)

Severus' body type and face are described as "thin":

○"He was a thin man with sallow skin, a hooked nose, and greasy, shoulder-length black hair"

○Snape was hanging upside down in the air, his robes falling over his head to reveal skinny, pallid legs"

○"even Harry, who hated Snape, was startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face"

○"He had forgotten the details of Snape’s appearance in the magnitude of his crimes, forgotten how his greasy black hair hung in curtains around his thin face, how his black eyes had a dead, cold look (I fucking love that quote, have you forgotten his lesser crimes which are not looking the way you enjoy, Harry, after he committed bigger ones like murder? good god)

He isn't probably looking very thin, since that description mostly applies to his face. Rather logical, I mean he wears all those big flowy robes that make him look bigger.

Also Snape is average height like about 177 cm/5'10, he's shorter than Yaxley and Sirius, taller than "tall and slim" Narcissa, so somewhere in this range.

The fact that Severus has hunched posture is mentioned twice for a kid/teen!Snape:

○"He was on platform nine and three-quarters, and Snape stood beside him, slightly hunched, next to a thin, sallow-faced, sour-looking woman who greatly resembled him"

○"Round-shouldered yet angular, he walked in a twitchy manner that recalled a spider, his oily hair swinging about his face."

I didn't find any mentions in the books that adult!Snape had hunched posture. It is possible that, like many behaviors and habits, such as the way he speaks, moves, and perhaps writes, it had been deliberately changed by Snape himself.

His fingers are thin and long:

○Snape eyed Harry, tracing his mouth with one long, thin finger as he did so.

○Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, “Explain.” – yellow can be a way to call sallow skin; a result of working with potions (Snape having potions stained fingers is not book canon, which is a shame) or smoking. Them being thin is noted once, but that goes cohesively with his thinness overall.

The star of the show – Snape's hair, ofc. It gets more attention than James Potter's charachter development. The fact that it's greasy appears in the books minimum 17 times + it's called oily 2 times and dirty once when he's a 9yo kid. People who comment on that, except Harry in his head, are Sirius, Peter through the Map, Fred and George in DH ("Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t, but the fact remains he can move faster than Severus Snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to"), kinda Ron with grinning on Sirius' comment. Actually it's not described as greasy in "Spinners End" and "The Dark Lord Ascending" (so it might as well be your ordinary oily hair with a tad of drama from people who dislike Snape).

It's black – obviously, shoulder-length or "long", which I assume is just a variation for shoulder-length. It's often forming "curtains":

○"Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair."

○"Snape looked around at him, his face framed between curtains of greasy black hair."

○"A sliver of a man could be seen looking out at them, a man with long black hair parted in curtains around a sallow face and black eyes."

At the hilltop scene they're described as straggling:

○"Snape was wringing his hands: He looked a little mad, with his straggling black hair flying around him."

as opposed to being lank before:

○"His hair was lank and greasy and was flopping onto the table".

He had it poorly cut when he was a kid:

○“Definitely,” said Snape, and even with his poorly cut hair and his odd clothes, he struck an oddly impressive figure..."

So as an adult he supposedly cared enough to regularly cut his hair up to Harry's (fashionable) standard. It also doesn't look "dirty", like Harry calls internally his hair when Severus is 9.

Well, as someone with naturally oily hair, depression and neurodivent sensory issues, I can say that if your hair loosely hangs in "curtains" covering/framing your face, you're probably not doing that bad with it! There are a lot of headcanons about why Snape has greasy hair, but honestly, I don't understand why would he need an exuse? Having oily hair doesn't make you unhygienic, that's ridiculous, and there are no signs that Snape (noticeably) neglects his hygiene. Hair types exist, and some of them just need extra-spesial care to look "socially acceptable" or whatever, but people have the right to not bother about it. Whether his occupation and/or upbringing and/or mental health problems affected it – maybe to an extent, but excluding just genetics or physical well-being from it is kinda weird. Let different hair types live and be pretty.

Snape's mom was thin, sallow faced and sour looking, and Harry thinks Severus resembles her greatly; while Severus' hooked nose was inherited from Tobias – "a hook-nosed man was shouting at a cowering woman, while a small dark-haired boy cried in a corner". Harry also does think Eileen isn't pretty since she's described as a "skinny girl; ...she looked simultaneously cross and sullen, with heavy brows and a long, pallid face" (so evidently that's not Harry's type aside from his prejudice to Snape. Harry's admiration towards Krum hadn't made Harry think he's attractive either. Just to remind you: "Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey". Literally Snape's lost cousin).

Honestly, after going through those descriptions specifically, if I remove the evaluative vocabulary and the labels of ugly/nasty/unpleasant/etc., I don't really understand what exactly I should've found ugly? Snape is just not Harry's type of preferred visual, and on top of that they quickly developed a mutual dislike. Nevertheless, no one is obliged to transfer subjective ideas of the (author) protagonist to their own perception. Writing "ugly" after a characteristic doesn't make it "ugly".

That had been a long conclusion.

My short conclusion is that Severus Snape is a babygirl and Harry has poor taste (sorry, no hard feelings).

[trulyumai]

Protector of his Woman

Pairing: Messmer the Impaler x Reader

Synopsis: Leaving the kingdom was a choice, but leaving his wife? Out of the question.

Warnings: Talk of violence/Death.

Enjoy!

“Does thou take me for a fool?” 

The pale flame stood tall, beside him his wife gripped onto the forearm placed in front of her frame. She stood just behind said man, looking away from the escalating scene. Too distracted by the swiveling trees and smell of pine wafting through the air. 

“Of course not, your grace! Its, well, your mother thought it best-”

“My mother disgraces me with such a request, yet is unfit to be present?” 

The golden soldier gulped, a bead of sweat dripped down the side of his brow, illuminating his face with a light sheen. 

“N-no, she traveled to the capital today, y-your grace.” 

The knight squinted. His posture was rigid and offended by the mere man's presence. 

He stood on their porch, by their house and demanded his attention to the capital? 

How offensive, how misinformed how- 

“Husband?” 

The burning flames hushed beneath his palms as the attention diverted from the man, to the small women beside him.

“Wife,”

With half lidded eyes, the man moved a hand towards her backside and rested it upon her lower spine. The aura shifted, the heat died down and the ambiance of nature could once more be heard. (Rather than the sizzling of a flame that grew onto the man's digits.)

“Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad visit. It has been a while since our last outing.” He felt the strokes upon his arm, soothingly moving up and down, up and down. 

“Leave us,” Messmer didn’t need to look up once more, as the soldier fled down their stone walkway. 

“She insults us, thou knows of her intentions.” 

His gaze stuck to her lucky honeydew on bread, it stayed there globbing onto each detail. Her eyes were bright today, full of light and love. Yet there was also worry there, and Messmer bit his tongue for placing such a feeling onto her. Her form sagged beside his, most of his arm held her body up, halting it from falling upon the rocks.

“She does,” a pause

“But she’s your mother, to not make an appearance would surely soil your reputation, my love.” 

“Have I not done enough? The bodies that lay upon the mountains, are they not proof of my unwavering loyalty?” His voice raised, startling the shorter woman, moving forward he gestured his hands around their vicinity. 

“All of this, all of it! It's safe because I deemed it so. Not the lord Godwyn, Not the unbeatable Melania. Me. The beholder of flames! Yet thee can be ruined- butchered, for not returning to an unloving kingdom?”

Mouth dry, she tried to speak- to comfort the rising temper of the man but no words budged. His eyes burned bright, they looked right through her. 

“No. I will not be returning, dear wife. For my place is here, by your side, in this house that I built for us,” Cautiously the knight placed himself back in front of her, and to her surprise, bent down on his knees. 

“Messmer! Get up this instant, your knees-”

A big palm covered her lips, its texture rough and calloused. It was so warm compared to the nipping air around them. And although she tried to be mad- she really did, it was hard when such a warmth was comforting to the girl. 

“My wife, I will protect thy until the flames of this land die out, until there's no one left but us to occupy such a fool of a kingdom,” 

“However,” 

The bigger man's hand dropped from her lips, both of his limbs instead wrapped themselves around her being, until his elbows molded together. 

“Do not ask me to leave your side again. Promise me.” 

“Husband… I simply canno-

“Promise me!” The man shouted, his grip tightened fastly around her.

Her nails dug into the man's wrists, and although she wasn’t in pain, his fervent yet fierce attitude scattered her mind. She wasn’t used to such a ferocity of emotion emitting from the man, aimed at her no less.

“I- I promise, I promise my love!” 

As if those were the words he was waiting for all his life, the man crumpled beneath her frame, his head buried between the ripples of her dress, with his nose digging into her stomach. 

She didn't know just how far such a devotion could- would go for the maroon knight. 

For how could she see the future, wrapped in nothing but flame and immorality?

“I  adore you, little wife,” Yellowed iris’ glanced upon her delicate ones. 

A laugh broke out between her lips, enchanting the man entirely.

“And I you, Husband.”

As if starved the man leaned up quickly; hungrily, to lock his lips against hers. Broken skin connected with softened and smooth, Messmer moaned out in content. 

If his wife was to be the end of the world, he would be her weapon. His flames would bathe her with as much loyalty he could give. 

What would he need a broken kingdom for, when such a devoted wife lay in his arms?

[maudie-duan]

Summary: You were an almost lover, now a hushed whisper in the dark when his Ex moves back to town. Nothing is worse than a love than a love triangle you weren't expecting--old flames, new love, and lingering feelings, but who's the real winner when everyone gets hurt?

A/N: Yay!! It's finally here!!! Sorry for the delay. I could barely write last week due to headaches. Here is our BONUS BABY! Hope you guys like it! @harryyloverrr gave me some real inspo on how to start this chapter. Such a lovely human, and am so grateful for their constant support!

Warnings: 18+All Angst/Smut, Mentions: Cheating. Sexual Situations

Word Count: 6.9k

POV: YOU

The most devastating part about someone being confused about their feelings is the ruthless domino effect—that heart-wrenching chain reaction that comes crashing down, a line that, once triggered, becomes unstoppable, like the tears that continue to fall. A haunting sequence of events you’re forced to witness unfold—each domino cuts deep, a painful action that can’t be undone, a word that pierces like a knife, a thought that consumes you, a missed connection that leaves you aching with regret. And there you stand, the helpless onlooker, watching this tragic show unfurl, your chest tight with anxiety, the maze of emotions devouring you whole as the fear sets in, each obstacle a soul-crushing finality you had never planned for, the twist and turns a trick until you completely lose sight of the architect in charge of the creating the shit show of suffering—forgetting how you even got to this point in the first place.

The catalyst behind the whole production.

The creator.

And yet, deep down, you anticipated every possible heartbreak, willingly casting yourself as “the fool”—sacrificing your peace at the altar of possibility, only to end up wounded in the process, spiraling through the desolate darkness of uncertainty, unable to distinguish reality from illusion. The cruelest torment of existing in love’s shadowy middle ground is the not knowing. It’s the isolation that envelops you when doubt still clutches at your heart, when every moment becomes an exercise in desperate interpretation, searching for signs that the other person’s feelings mirror your own—a prison of perpetual questioning where answers remain just beyond reach.

Then there’s the wishing.

You wished the shift would have been subtle, but it was as predictable as Leah was the night you saw her at that party. You didn’t have to be the sharpest tool in the shed to figure out what was going on between Harry and Leah. You chalked it up to him being a “dumb boy” oblivious to the things we as women are trained to spot as soon as the word love even exists in our world. The petty downfall we somehow still find ourselves holding on to from time to time. You saw the look in her eyes that night, Leah sparking that competitive spirit you so desperately tried to bury, but you felt it. 

She wanted power. 

Now queue the regression, all the fucking work and effort you put into being a “girls-girl” because you knew in your bones what seeing her that one night would entail. Then you saw the DM, and it took everything in you to be a reasonably understanding person. You even gave Harry space when you felt him pulling away. You thought maybe if you were the bigger person, he would come to his fucking senses, and when Harry sent a soft “Hey,” one random Tuesday, you thought he was back like he had figured out his shit, and then you found yourself slipping back into whatever you thought it was that you guys had going on before. 

And what was that exactly?

Because then you were seeing pictures of Harry cuddled up to Leah at her sister’s wedding—and yes, you knew this because you had combed through every social media account tied to those pictures, spiraling yet again in the dark ether of the internet, knowing it was never a good idea, and all night you lay there wondering if he went home with her. Wondering if one hook-up would seal the deal, and they would just be back on, fall back into whatever semblance of a relationship they had left.

The thought made you sick, and when Harry messaged you the next day as if nothing happened, you allowed it, and when he fell into your bed, you tried to forget, and you did forget. You forgot until the hangouts became unpredictable. When the consistency you once relied on became Harry showing up drunk, him crawling into your bed with all his clothes on, and you being the doting…what? You would be the one trying to pick up all his silent pieces, the sadness he brought you when he knew he was slowly fading from your life. 

You felt it in the way he nestled into your body, a quiet plead in his embrace. You could see the toll she was already taking on him, but you held this faith, a faith he didn’t deserve—a hope. You held it like you held your breath, waiting for him to choose you because that’s what it was; when you stripped yourself bare, that’s what you wanted; you wanted him to choose you because why else was he in your bed? 

You were in love. 

And you lost love before you even knew you had it.

But what was love if you could lose it?

And what was love if she could take it? If he could take it with him when he strolled out your door. 

How long would his absence leave a hole in your life? And the worst part about it was that it wasn’t like he went away. He didn’t just disappear. His last line was always at play, “Hopefully, it won’t be weird seeing me around,” And you still seethed with the disrespect of that one line, like it was casual because if that was casual, maybe you were the fucking idiot after all—a bitch and an idiot because that’s what he made you because who fucking says that? Especially when his dick had been inside you less than 24 hours before.

And it was weird. It was weird every time. 

 It was weird pretending it wasn’t weird seeing the two of them around, you know? That whole act just made everything hurt more, which, ironically, made you want him even more—knowing full well there was zero chance of that longing ever being satisfied because, hello, it was over. And then, just when you thought you’d finally hit rock bottom and started climbing back up, bam—he and Leah broke up again. The kicker? He couldn’t even bother to tell you himself. Nope. You had to hear it from Sam, of all people. Like, seriously?

Then you waited. Praying for his guilt to kick in again, to call you up, to tell you about everything, to tell you he missed you, to tell you he still thought about you. Tell you that you didn’t have to keep the distance because you had. Ever since that night, you sent that text at the party. You really tried to let it go, and when they broke up again, You still kept your distance. 

And then, one night, you found yourself alone with Leah at some party, and maybe something changed after that:

You spotted her the moment you walked into the kitchen. Leah, standing alone by the counter, mixing a drink, swaying off balance—drunk nonetheless—and now you would have to face her. The noise of the party fading behind you as the door swung shut. For a second, you almost considered turning around, but she had already seen you.

“Hey,” she said, her voice slightly slurred.

“Hey.” The simple word foreign in your mouth. After everything, this was how you were starting.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the same nervous habit you’d noticed the last time you saw her from afar, her and Harry at Sam’s. Her fingers trembled slightly now, betraying the anxiety beneath her intoxicated exterior. You could see it in the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, in how her eyes darted around the room before settling back on you.

You knew their chapter had ended, but you didn’t know what the aftermath looked like this time. Knowing the facts was different from seeing her in person. From witnessing the lack of chemistry that never rekindled between them when she resurfaced in Harry’s life with apologies and promises. Every story in History starts with a beginning, and she had taken yours as you watched him slowly gravitate back toward her like she was the sun and he’d never escaped her orbit. You became the footnote in their story, the temporary chapter between their beginning and their inevitable reunion. Standing here now, face to face with Leah, felt like some kind of cruel joke, like having the wind knocked out of you all over again.

Your heart hammered against your ribs. Was this the confrontation you’d been dreading? Some kind of victory lap now that she’d won Harry back, only to lose him again? But you lingered anyway, curiosity overriding your better judgment.

“I haven’t talked to Harry,” you confess preemptively, reaching for a clean cup on the counter. You don’t know why you say it, but you let it bubble up, let it happen; maybe it’s your pride wanting to continue being the bigger person.

“I know,” she replied, looking down at her drink. “He hasn’t talked to me either.” And there was something about her line that made his absence even more real.

The kitchen felt too small suddenly, the fluorescent lights harsh and unforgiving, highlighting every microexpression that crossed Leah’s face. The air thick with unspoken words and the lingering scent of spilled alcohol. The distant thump of bass from the party seemed to match the pounding of your heart as you poured yourself some water, the ice cubes clinking against the plastic cup each sound amplified in the tense silence between you. You found yourself counting the tiles on the counter, studying the abandoned red cups scattered around, buying time, wondering how quickly you could make an exit without seeming rude. 

Not that you owed her politeness.

“I fucked up,” she blurted out, her eyes glassy with unshed tears, and you hope she doesn’t turn into one of those annoying drunk girls that need you to comfort them in moments of self-induced distress. “I really, really fucked up.”

You took a sip of water, unsure what to say. This wasn’t a conversation you’d ever imagined having, a chance you never knew you wanted because, in that moment, you could finally tell that bitch off, make her feel as shitty as you feel now as you hold her gaze. Her tragic, sad eyes staring back at you, and you hate that you want to hear her out.

“He was so good, and I fucked it up,” she continued, her words tumbling out faster now. “Four years, and I threw it away because I was jealous. And then I came back even more jealous and ruined what you two had because I thought... I don’t know what I thought.”

“Leah—”

“No, please. Let me say this.” She set her drink down with too much force, liquid sloshing over the rim. “I was a bad person. I cheated on him, did you know that? That’s why we broke up the first time.”

You already knew that part. Harry had told you when you first started dating, though he’d spared you the details. Still, something twisted in your chest, hearing her say it so casually.

“We only had sex once, you know. The whole time, we were back together.” Her laugh was hollow. “Isn’t that pathetic? We couldn’t even connect in the one way we were best at. He couldn’t look at me the same...I could see it...feel it.”

Every new detail felt like a blow, the subconscious thoughts you already knew, and as you leaned against the counter, feeling strangely detached from the situation, you realized that you had let it go, that maybe you were further from the pain than you had remembered, but it was bittersweet, and still, a year of your life was gone because she’d decided she wanted another chance. And now here she was, confessing to you of all people.

“I knew it wouldn’t work,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “Deep down, I knew. But I had to try because... because I was scared of losing him forever. And now I have anyway.”

There was a beat of silence stretching between you and outside, someone laughed loudly, music pulsing, and funny enough, life still went on, and here you were in a strange holding pattern that the universe had put you in, standing alone in a kitchen with the girl that just upended your life.

“You know what the worst part is?” she finally spoke up, not waiting for your response. “He looked at you the way he used to look at me. When we were at our best.”

And this was the part you hated because something inside you had softened, just a fraction. Not forgiveness, not yet, but understanding, perhaps. You’d both loved the same person in different ways at different times, and that realization had to hurt because it hurt you knowing that you still loved him.

And so did she.

“People make mistakes, Leah,” you said graciously, surprising you both with the gentleness in your tone. “The question is what you do after.”

She looked up at you, mascara smudged beneath her eyes. “How are you not screaming at me right now?”

You shrugged. “Wouldn’t change anything...and I don’t think I have the energy anymore.”

“I don’t deserve your kindness.”

“No, you don’t,” you agreed. “But beating yourself up forever isn’t going to fix anything either.”

She nodded slowly, considering your words.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person, Leah, but you don’t have to hurt the people you love to figure out who you are as a person.” you continued, finding wisdom you didn’t know you were willing to give. “Maybe you should start by forgiving yourself. Trust me. My forgiveness won’t exalt you from the shit you’ve done. Make different choices. Better ones.”

“Just like that?”

“No, not just like that. It takes work. Everyday, it’s work. But it starts, right? Like making different decisions.”

She wiped her eyes again, smearing her makeup further. “Why do you even care?”

You thought about it for a moment. “Because I care about Harry and because I’m realizing that holding onto anger is exhausting… because maybe we both need to move on.”

Leah took a deep breath, like all the information was too heavy, “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t deserve it, but thank you.”

You finished your water and set the cup in the sink. “I think I’m going to go...”

As you turned to leave, she called after you. “I know it’s shitty to ask…but like, are you... are you okay? After everything?”

You let out a dry laugh then, pausing at the door, surprisingly considering the question because Leah didn’t seem like the type to care, but maybe there had been growth. “I’m getting there,” you answered honestly. “Maybe one day at a time.”

And for the first time, the words felt true.

 Then came the longing all over again. 

You slipping into a drunken oblivion.

Slipping into the depth in which the longing would unfold because here’s the reality of moving on, what time will reveal, what your heart endures in those quiet moments between heartbeats. 

The distance that exists becomes a peculiar kind of waiting—one filled with both hope and hesitation. It’s the space we inhabit after loving someone deeply and letting them go in hopes that they’ll heal, and then we find ourselves standing at the threshold of possibility, wondering if they might return to our lives again.

Time passes differently in this liminal space. Days stretch into weeks, weeks into months, each carrying the weight of all the unspoken words and memories that refuse to fade. You find yourself caught in this silent dance of restraint, knowing that the healing takes time, that it cannot be rushed, yet there’s always this feeling, that persistent tug of longing that whispers, “Is it time yet?”

The decision to give someone space is never made lightly. It comes from a place of profound care—it’s hard to recognize that sometimes love means taking a step back, allowing their wounds to close without your constant presence reopening them. You tell yourself this separation is necessary, that maybe it’s temporary, an act of compassion rather than abandonment. Yet in the stillness that follows, doubt creeps in like evening shadows, lengthening with each passing day, the dark a constant reminder.

You wonder if they think of you in those quiet moments, in the times you would be the one filling that empty space next to them. You wonder if the memories that visited you in dreams also visit them. You wonder if the healing is even happening at all or if the distance is simply becoming an endless state of their absence, of yours, a new normal neither of you intended.

And dammit.

The pain, that particular ache that comes with loving someone from afar—knowing the curve of their smile, the sound of their laughter, the warmth of their embrace, yet being unable to reach for these comforts. You carry them with you in fragments: a song they loved playing in the shuffle of an old playlist you finally felt strong enough to listen to again, a phrase they used that somehow finds its way into your vocabulary, now permanent like it had been there all along, that shared joke that makes you smile when you least expect it, that you knew only they would get.

And time presses on.

The real pain is that the world will continue its relentless forward motion. You’ll build routines that no longer include them. You learn to navigate conversations without mentioning their name. You become adept at redirecting thoughts when they wander down the familiar path toward the memories you’re trying not to disturb. Yet beneath this carefully constructed normalcy runs an undercurrent of awareness—they are still there, somewhere, living a life parallel to yours.

And then comes the moment when waiting feels heavier than moving. When the desire to reach out overwhelms the fear of disrupting their healing process. When you begin to wonder if perhaps your absence has become its own kind of burden rather than the gift you intended it to be.

Then comes the most delicate moment of all—the shift from giving space to seeking reconnection. Of course, there are no guidelines for this crossing, no maps to follow, though. Only the compass of your own heart blindly pointing you toward what feels both terrifying and necessary.

Perhaps it begins with something small—a message that asks a simple question, or in your case, a drunken call that acknowledges the time that has passed, the space that was given, the hope that remains. Maybe it carries no expectations, only an opening, a possibility, opening the door for fear to flood back in.

And it’s dangerous.

Because what follows is unknown territory. All the unanswered questions are still at the forefront, but maybe they sound a little different, like what if they healed in ways that no longer include you? What if they may have been waiting, unsure of when or how to bridge the gap? What if they still need more time?

But in the act of reaching out, something pivots. The limbo of waiting transforms into the vulnerability of trying. And in that transformation lies a different kind of love—one that has weathered the absence, one that understands that some connections, despite time and distance, remain essential to who we are and who we might become together again.

The streetlights blurred as you stumbled down the sidewalk, your footfalls stumbling unevenly against the concrete. Two shots of tequila had turned to four, plus whatever was in those red cups they’d passed around. The bass from that stupid house party still pulsed in your ears as you left the crowd of sweaty bodies behind. Somewhere between that chaotic living room and this familiar street, you’d convinced yourself this was a good idea. Your phone showed 11:47 PM—late enough to be inappropriate, early enough that he’d still be awake.

Harry’s house looked exactly the same. The porch light cast a warm glow over the steps you’d climbed countless times before. Before he’d said those words. Before the dreaded “It’s not you, it’s me” had shattered everything.

You pressed the doorbell, leaning against the frame to steady yourself. Your heart now the beat pounding in your ears, your alcohol-induced courage beginning to waver. Three nights ago, you’d called him at 2 AM, leaving a fucking voice mail, words slurring as you told him everything you’d been holding back. Then you’d ignored every call he’d made since.

The door swung open. Harry stood there in gray sweatpants and a faded t-shirt, his dark hair mussed as if he’d been running his hands through it. His eyes widened.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice low and careful.

You pushed past him into the familiar warmth of his home. “You called. I came. Just took me a while.”

The door closed behind you with a soft click, clicking your plan in motion, the sound the final decision being made. You blinked hard, trying to bring the room into focus. The familiar space seemed to sway and shift, the edges of furniture blurring like watercolors. Posters on the wall—Harry’s face among them—doubled and merged as you squinted. You steadied yourself near the closest wall, your hand landing on his entry table, knocking a small ceramic dish that spun in lazy circles before settling. The room felt both smaller and larger than you remembered, distances impossible to judge as you wobbled slightly on your feet. The golden glow from the lamp cast long shadows that seemed to move of their own accord. Everything felt too bright, too sharp, and too soft all at once—the tequila transforming Harry’s living room into something dreamlike and surreal.

“You’re drunk,” he said, not a question but a statement.

“I wish you were this observant when we were together.” You muttered with a sarcastic tongue, kicking off your shoes and feeling the cool hardwood beneath your feet. His home smelled the same—sandalwood and whatever his roommate cooked for dinner, but somehow, it smelled like him, like a memory.

“Let me get you some water.” Harry moved toward the kitchen, but you caught his wrist.

“I didn’t come here for water.”

His pulse jumped beneath your fingers. You could feel it, that rapid flutter that told you more than his carefully composed expression. He’d always been good at hiding his feelings, except from you. You knew his tells more than you like to believe, and this pained you. 

That familiar look on his face.

“Did you mean to come here,” he said, but he didn’t pull away.

“Probably not. I don’t know—I think—” You stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. “But I’ve spent three months doing what I should. Tonight I’m doing what I want.”

His eyes darkened, pupils dilating as you moved closer. “And what’s that?”

Instead of answering, you pressed your mouth to his. For one terrible moment, he stiffened, unresponsive, and the lingering doubt crashed through you. Then his hands were in your hair, and he was kissing you back with a hunger that matched your own.

The months apart vanished as your body remembered his—the firm press of his chest against yours, the way his hands spanned your waist, how perfectly you fit together. You backed him against the wall, your fingers sliding beneath his t-shirt to find his warm skin.

“We shouldn’t,” he murmured against your mouth, even as his hands slid down to cup your hips.

“Stop thinking,” you whispered, nipping at his lower lip. “Don’t fucking think—Just feel—I just want to feel”

His shirt came off in one fluid motion, revealing the body you’d dreamed about for months. The broad shoulders, the lean muscle, the scattered tattoos you knew by heart—That fucking butterfly at the center of his chest, the others straying across his body. Your fingers traced the familiar ink, each design holding memories of nights when you’d asked about their stories, and you traced a line down the trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath his sweatpants, drawing your eyes downward, and then you ran your hands over his chest, relearning every plane and contour. His skin was hot beneath your palms, his heartbeat a rapid drum.

Harry hesitated when your fingers found the drawstring of his sweatpants. “You’re drunk,” he repeated, his voice strained. “I don’t want you to regret this.”

“The only thing I regret is waiting this long.” And you pressed your lips to his neck, feeling his pulse race beneath your tongue. “I’ve missed you. Missed this. Missed us.”

His resolve was beginning to crumble; you could feel it in the way his hands tightened on your hips, in the shallow rhythm of his breathing. When you pressed against him, you felt his dick, hard and insistent against your stomach.

“Tell me to stop,” you challenged, your fingers hovering at his waistband. “Tell me you don’t want this.” 

Instead of answering, he kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against yours. His hands found the zipper of your jeans, drawing it down with agonizing slowness, then you pushed them down until the denim pooled at your feet, and you stepped out, leaving you in nothing but your underwear and t-shirt. Heat pulsed between your thighs, a rapid pulse that matched your racing heartbeat. Your body remembered him—every touch, every kiss—and responded with a flood of desire that left you aching and desperate. The thin cotton between your legs was already damp, your skin hypersensitive, every nerve ending alive with anticipation, and you pressed your thighs together, seeking even the slightest relief from the throbbing need that had built inside you since the moment he opened the door.

“God—baby—,” he breathed, his hand moving between your legs with undisguised longing. “I’ve missed you so much...” His fingers slipped into your underwear, finding you slick and ready. You gasped as he stroked along your folds, teasing at first, before sliding one finger inside, and your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more. 

He knew exactly how to touch you—the perfect pressure, the perfect speed. Then he was adding a second finger, curling them to hit that spot inside that made your knees weak, and you clutched at his shoulders to stay upright. His thumb circled your clit in deliberate motions that had you panting against his neck. The dual sensation was overwhelming, pleasure spiraling outward from his skilled touch. You were close already, embarrassingly so, your body responding to him as if no time had passed at all.

The pleasure from his touch made your head swim, alcohol and arousal creating a heady cocktail that left you breathless and unsteady. You leaned into him, your forehead pressing against his shoulder as waves of sensation crashed through you. The room tilted pleasantly, and you welcomed the dizziness, letting it heighten every touch, every sensation. His fingers slowed their pace, drawing out your pleasure until you couldn’t stand it anymore. With a frustrated groan, you reached between you, determined to make him feel as desperate as you did.

You worked at the drawstring of his sweatpants, your fingers clumsy with lust and longing. Even before the fabric fell away, you felt the hard outline of him pressing against your palm through the cotton, dense and ready. The heat of him emanating through the thin material, making your mouth go dry with anticipation. When you finally pushed them down his hips, you were reminded of what you’d been missing. He was impressive, intimidatingly so, needy, and demanding with a craving only you could curve. For a second, you just stared, mesmerized by the sight of him, remembering the perfect fullness, the delicious stretch, the way he’d hit exactly the right spots inside you, your orgasm never out of reach.

Your body responded with a rush of heat, a physical memory of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, that throbbing turning into a dull ache the longer it took for him to be inside you. “You sure about this?” he asked, his voice rough with restraint.

In answer, you wrapped your hand around his stiff dick, feeling him pulse against your palm. His sharp intake of breath was all the encouragement you needed. You stroked him slowly, watching Harry’s face as pleasure overtook his features.

And then you both were stumbling to the bedroom, an entanglement of limbs and desperate touches. The familiar scent of his sheets enveloped you as he laid you down, his body covering yours. Suddenly, the weight of him was entrancing, grounding you when everything else felt like it was spinning.

Harry’s mouth traced a path down your neck, across your collarbone, to the swell of your breasts. When his lips closed around your nipple, you arched off the bed, a gasp escaping you. He remembered exactly how to touch you, where to kiss, how much pressure to apply. It was as if no time had passed at all.

“I’ve thought about this every night,” he confessed against your skin. “About you. About us.”

“Show me,” you demanded, pulling him back up to kiss that fucking mouth of his even needier. Then he was lining his cock with your entrance, and all you could do was stare into those green eyes, ready for the fall.

When he finally pushed into you, the sensation rushed through all your senses as a loud moan flew out of your mouth, but Harry was quick to stifle the sound when his mouth moved to yours. The feeling of him was distant yet familiar as your body yielded to his huge dick, the delicious ache pushing another moan into his mouth. Each inch of him stretched you open, your slick walls gripping him tightly as if your body were desperate to pull him deeper. The fullness was captivating—a sensory overload yet somehow not enough, your inner walls fluttering around his thick length as he slowly buried himself inside you completely. 

You wanted more.

More of the feeling you couldn’t put words to. 

Because it was this.

 You and him.

No more space between you.

There was a feeling of completeness to your bodies being joined again after all that time apart. It was dizzying, your body remembering exactly how perfectly you fit together despite the months of separation—it was almost too much, and you felt it, the sob caught in your throat, not entirely from pleasure. It snuck up on you even through the drunk haze, and a painful moment of clarity struck you. This wasn’t just physical; it was the crushing weight of everything you’d lost, everything you might never recapture. Tears pricked behind your closed eyelids as he began to move, and you clutched at his shoulders. 

Your hold was strong as if he would leave, your nails digging into his skin, anchoring yourself to the present when memories threatened to drown you. The slow friction kindled pleasure that mingled with an ache so deep it felt carved into your bones—the bittersweet agony of finding home in someone who had once walked away.

Each thrust was deliberate, measured, as if he was savoring every second, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, faster, it was like the months of longing culminated in this moment—your bodies moving together in flawless synchrony, finding the cadence you’d perfected long ago.

“I missed you,” you choked against his mouth. “So much.”

And as he looked into your eyes, he pushed deeper, harder, his movements becoming more acute as his hand slipped between you, finding the center of your pleasure with unerring accuracy. Your impending orgasm was a slow burn as stars bloomed behind your eyes, and you felt the tug of tension coiling tighter and tighter in your lower belly.

“Let go,” he urged, his voice strained with his own approaching release. “I’ve got you.”

And that’s all you needed because it was exactly what you wanted to hear. You wanted to let go, you wanted to fall like you fell before, you wanted him, you wanted this.

Your climax crashed over you in waves, flooding your entire body in pleasure fast, an intensity so deep that it edged on the side of pain, and you cried out his name, clinging to him as your body shuddered beneath his. Your walls gripping him so tight that it hurt. Then Harry followed moments later, his face buried in your neck as he pulsed inside you, and for a moment, you were both motionless, still coming down from the high as Harry kissed you.

Afterward, you lay tangled together, sweat cooling on your skin. The room spun slightly, the alcohol finally catching up, creating a lazy stupor that was threatening to sweep you under. Your limbs felt impossibly heavy, the last of your energy completely spent. The combination of tequila, emotions, and physical release had drained you entirely. You fought to keep your eyes open, but they betrayed you, fluttering closed despite your efforts. Harry’s fingers traced sluggish patterns on your back, each gentle stroke lulling you further toward unconsciousness. Your breathing slowed as sleep pulled at you insistently. The day’s sentiments, the party, the walk to his house, and finally, the reunion of your bodies—it had all taken everything you had to give.

“We should talk,” he murmured against your hair.

“Tomorrow,” you groggily promised, already drifting toward sleep. “We’ll talk tomorrow...”

The last thing you remembered was the press of his lips against your shoulder, and the solid warmth of his body curled protectively around yours.

And then came the morning, the reality of it all. 

Morning came with harsh sunlight and a pounding headache. You blinked awake, disoriented by the familiar yet strange surroundings. Harry’s bedroom. Harry’s bed. But no, Harry.

You sat up slowly, wincing as your head protested the movement. Fragments of the night before flashed through your mind—showing up at his door, kissing him, the feel of his body against yours. But the details were hazy, blurred by alcohol and desire.

The bedroom door opened, and Harry appeared with a glass of water and aspirin. His expression was unreadable as he handed them to you.

“How much do you remember?” he asked quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

You swallowed the pills, buying time. “Enough,” you finally said. “Enough to know I owe you an explanation. And probably an apology.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “You have nothing to apologize about. I’m the reason we’re here...” and Harry waves his hands in the air, “You know...the distance.”

You sit up then, clutching the sheet to your body, full-circle, you thought, you laying there naked again, Harry looking over at you with those sad eyes you had seen so many times.

“I trusted you.” You start, “I thought I didn’t need a label for what we were...like I thought it was just you and me. I wasn’t seeing other people—”

“We never talked about it—I don’t know why we never talked about it,” You finish.

Harry stares down at his hands, “I know...I didn’t think we needed to.”

“I guess I didn’t picture anything happening...like maybe we would just end up being together. Like what we were.”

“And what were we, Harry? Was that just like casual for you?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “No—” he answers without pause, “None of it was casual.”

The thing about it is that you believe him, but it doesn’t change the outcome, and now you don’t know what to say, “She messaged me after that party. That first time. When we saw her—”

You cut him off, “I know—I saw it—I accidentally grabbed your phone off the side table that morning.” your eyes shift to the nightstand, his phone sitting there, triggering the memory all over again.

“Really?” He asks, but when your eyes meet his, he’s not mad, just curious, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

This time, you shrug your shoulders, “Because I don’t think it would have changed anything...” You tell him because it’s honest, and in your heart, you felt like it was all inevitable.

“None of it was a coincidence, Harry, I knew she was going to try...and how could I compete with you guys’ history? I don’t think there was anything I could have done. I just wish you would have been honest, maybe there would have been less pain...I don’t know. It was going to hurt anyway...”

“I’m sorry...” he whispers, reaching to stroke a thumb over your leg under the blankets, “Can I be honest now?” He asks, half laughing the question out, the first full smile you’ve seen since waking up, and it feels good, the warmth of his presence welcoming.

“Please...” You laugh out.

“This is all going to sound shitty, but I would rather just come clean about it all, okay?”

“Okay—” You answer.

“I thought back about those pictures at the wedding and how you said we looked cozy. I want to start by apologizing for going behind your back because that’s essentially what that was...I think you could look at that as cheating—”

“Harry—”

“Please—baby—let me just get it all out—”

“Okay...Okay—” you whisper, your throat burning with the effort.

“I don’t want to be that person ever again. I knew how that felt, and I still did it anyway, and I am so fucking sorry for that...and then you tried to confront me, and I shut you down like Leah used to shut me down...and I hated it. I hated the feeling. I hated that I made you cry because that’s not me, I promise—”

And all you can do is nod, the tears stinging your eyes, as you draw your lips together, trying not to say a word, “I didn’t have sex with her after the wedding. She wanted to have sex. We got really close, and if you want details, I can tell you, but I told her about us, and she got really mad, and then we got into a huge fight, and then somehow we were talking again...and honestly, it all feels like such a mind fuck. Like, I still don’t know how it even happened because I wanted to be with you, I really did—”

“I know, Harry—”

“But do you? Because I swear—” He says, bounding off the bed and falling to his knees next to you, his elbows resting on the bed.

You run a hand through his hair, caressing his cheek for a brief moment, watching tears build at the rim of his eyes, “I ran into Leah at a party. She said you guys only had sex once. I guessed that it wasn’t the wedding. I didn’t think you were the type of guy to double-dip like that...”

“I haven’t had sex with anyone else...” you follow up.

“You talked to her?” He questions, his brows knitting together.

You laughed, rolling your eyes, “She talked to me, but yeah. It was kind of good, I guess. Like maybe she needed closure, and it kind of gave me closure too, but then it made me want you even more, knowing that you weren’t talking to either one of us...and I hadn’t heard any rumors of you hooking up with anyone so I guessed that maybe you were taking time for yourself?”

“I was trying—” he whispered, tears spilling down his cheeks.

Harry nodded, “I wanted to come to you when I knew you could have me fully...no baggage this time.”

“Did I just ruin that?” You asked, brushing a thumb under his eye.

He lets out a soft laugh, pressing your hand to his face, “I feel ready...but if you need more time, I understand...I can wait...”

“Harry, I’ve been waiting...” You laugh out.

He smiles, those cute dimples dipping, “I’m in love with you...”

The words hang in the air between you, crystalline and fragile, and your breath catches in your throat. Time seems to stop as the confession washes over you—words you’ve imagined hearing countless times during lonely nights when memories of him were all you had. The vulnerability in his voice makes your heartache, the slight tremor revealing how terrified he is of your reaction. Tears spring to your eyes, not from sadness but from the overwhelming relief of finally hearing what you’ve known in your heart all along.

You reach up to trace the curve of his jaw, memorizing the feel of him beneath your fingertips as if he might disappear. The longing that’s lived inside you these past months—that hollow, persistent ache—begins to dissolve, replaced by something warm and certain. Everything you’ve been holding back floods forward: the sleepless nights, the times you nearly called, the constant wondering if he felt the same emptiness you did.

“Harry, I fucking love you...I never stopped loving you,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “Not for a single day.”

The words feel both monumental and entirely inadequate to describe the vastness of what you feel for him. But when his eyes light up, when his smile breaks across his face like dawn, you know he understands. This vulnerable truth between you—it’s a beginning, not an ending. A promise, not just of passion, but of something deeper, something lasting. Whatever happened before, whatever mistakes were made, you both know this is where you belong.

That this is where you both truly begin.

Taglist: @sassamanda77 @panini @unfuckwitablenarry @triski73 @haleyannaw @dipmeinhoneyh @angeldavis777 @matildasatellite @cendrineee @prettygurl-2009 @harry2121 @fangirl509east @bethiegurl19 @lizsogolden

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[itsnesss]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 | minho (xo,kitty) × fem!reader

summary | you meet minho in the park after your breakup. he listens, understands, and comforts you. as the connection deepens, you share a kiss that brings the peace you've been longing for

warnings | fluff, consolation, breakup, kisses

word count | 0.9 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The sound of the phone vibrating in your pocket pulls you out of your thoughts. The brightness of the screen makes it clear that it’s Minho. You know something isn’t right. You can feel it in the air. You answer the phone with a mix of nervousness and hope.

"Hello, how are you?" His voice sounds soft, almost cautious.

"I’m… I’m fine," you answer, though you don’t feel that way at all. But Minho has always been good at reading between the lines, and you notice how his tone immediately changes.

"Don’t lie to me," he responds firmly. "Do you mind if we meet up?"

You know what’s going on. It doesn’t surprise you that he called, but you didn’t expect him to read your emotions so well.

"Alright," you finally say, your voice a little broken. "I’ll be there."

The evening cold seems to intensify as you walk through the park, the place where you’ve always met to talk. The wind stirs your hair, and every step feels heavier than the last. You can’t help but feel empty after what happened with your boyfriend. Breaking up with him was the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but you knew it was the right thing. Love wasn’t what you had hoped for anymore.

When you arrive, you see Minho sitting on a bench, his head down, a slight sigh escaping his lips. He notices you immediately, but doesn’t move. You stand there, watching as he runs a hand through his hair and his shoulders slightly shrug. It’s strange seeing him like this. He’s usually so confident, so full of energy.

"How are you feeling?" you ask as you approach him.

Minho looks at you, and for a moment, he seems unsure of what to say. However, in his eyes, you see something familiar: empathy. In his gaze, you know he understands perfectly. He’s been through his own kind of pain.

"It hurts, doesn’t it?" he asks softly, almost as if testing your emotions.

You nod without saying a word, but the lump in your throat grows bigger. Minho moves to make space for you next to him on the bench, and you sit beside him. The silence between you feels comfortable, as if words could make things worse, but at the same time, you both know you need to get out of there.

"Sometimes… I don’t know if I did the right thing," you murmur finally, looking ahead. "Breaking up with him tears me apart, but I also know we weren’t okay anymore."

Minho turns towards you, and for the first time, you see vulnerability in his expression. He moves a little closer, so close that you can feel the warmth of his presence.

"You did it for yourself, didn’t you?" his voice is calm, but full of understanding. "And even though it hurts, it’s for the best. Sometimes love isn’t enough when there’s no respect or mutual growth."

You feel the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest. How is it that Minho knows exactly what you needed to hear? Something in his tone comforts you, makes you feel like you’re not alone in this pain.

"Thank you," you whisper, turning towards him. "Thank you for being here."

Minho smiles softly and nods. A flash of warmth in his gaze makes you feel like everything will be okay. For a moment, the storm in your chest seems to calm. But that feeling doesn’t last long. You know you need more. The emptiness inside you doesn’t disappear completely with just words.

So, without thinking much, you lean towards him. Maybe it’s the pain, maybe it’s the need for comfort, but the desire to be close to him grows like a flame. Minho doesn’t pull away. Instead, his gaze softens, and he slowly moves closer, as if waiting for you to make the move.

Words aren’t necessary when your faces are so close, almost touching. You can feel his breath mingling with yours, and something inside you beats loudly. The first contact is gentle, tentative. His lips meet yours with a tenderness that surprises you, but at the same time, comforts you. It’s as if all the pain you’ve been carrying dissolves in that moment, in the touch of his lips.

Minho closes his eyes, and his hands gently rest on your cheeks, caressing them with tenderness. The warmth of his touch envelops you, and for a moment, you forget the world around you. You forget the breakup, you forget the pain. You’re just here, with him.

"Is… is this okay?" you ask, a little confused, pulling away slightly to look at him. The fear of what this kiss might mean makes you hesitate.

Minho looks at you intently, but this time, there’s no confusion in his eyes. There’s only calm. He nods slowly.

"Yes, it’s okay. Just… let me be here for you."

And then, without saying anything more, his lips find yours again, this time with more confidence, more passion. Everything you’ve been holding back, all the doubts, all the insecurities, fade away. The kiss deepens, and the world seems to disappear.

Finally, when you pull apart, both of you are breathing heavily, but with a sense of peace in the air.

"I think I needed this," you say softly, smiling with a mix of relief and something more. "Not just the comfort, but… this."

Minho looks at you steadily, with a serene and peaceful expression.

"Me too," he responds, moving closer again to gently caress your hair. "Sometimes what we need isn’t just advice. It’s someone who’s willing to be by your side, no matter what".

[iikisa]

heres more teacher rin au!!!!

ill have some more deets under the cut about this hehe

Welcome back aoex fandom… I’ve decided for this AU to be called “Tightrope”!!!! Haha,, yeah it’s definitely not what i was saying earlier in that ask..

But yeah!!! I’ll be tagging any post related to this AU under a tag from now on! ;)

(The rest of this will contain spoilers from the manga, but then again this whole AU has been spoilers..)

Alrighty, this time we’re going over the reason for Rin’s appearance… Just as in the manga, Rin becomes “unstable” through Yukio breaking his sword, except in this tightrope au, their relationship was much more rockier than it was in the manga. So much stuff that wasn’t cleared up, lots of avoidance, not so much emotional stability.. There’s a whole background to how Yukio and Rin’s upbringing would’ve happened in this AU because of their little aged-up situation— some events are interpreted differently to fit and others are just completely new, you can assume— so obviously things happened differently between them without Yukio being the cram school’s teacher and Rin actually attending said school to begin with…

So, now that Yukio left Rin for Illuminati, leaving him completely lonely and without a proper purpose to live for in life… Rin’s demonic nature is left in a “tightrope-like” situation.

See how the title relates? And boy does it apply for many other things too.

Where is Mephisto to help with all this you ask? Oh he tried to offer Rin help by going into the past, but even after learning of his origins (I don't think it helped his self-esteem much tbh) Rin still finds himself unable to "restabilize". Like in the manga, it's not until Rin truly accepts both sides to himself is he able to truly stabilize. This AU is obviously more heavy on the twins terrible communication and relationship, so obviously this will be harder for Rin.

For as long as he can remember, Rin's always thought of himself as a nuisance to his family. And with Fujimoto's death, everything seems to be Rin's fault and he's not stupid enough as to not notice the pattern. Unfortunately, this really eats away at Rin, especially with how distant Yukio was with him. So until Rin can learn to accept the uglier parts of himself, he won't be stable. And Yukio is the most important part for him to realize that.

Now… time for the appearance explanation.

When Rin first "unstabilizes" his hair, ears, and eyes change (other smaller details like his canines as well as the newest addition of little nubs on his forehead). The more "unstable" he is, the more prominent these features become—his hair is wholly whitish-blue, his ears and canines are pointier, his eyes are sharper and more vibrant, and his little horns get bigger.

After becoming a not-so-substitute-teacher for the cram school, these features start to become smaller or fade away!!!! Depending on Rin’s emotional state—negative emotions lead to instability and positive emotions leads to stability— his appearance changes. The happier and healthier he is, the more his black roots take place (his original hair color) and the duller his other features become!

Now as for his flames.. I think some logic may be off canon for this but it’ll be fine! He can freely use his flames like he does during the final war-against-satan arc, however, his state of stability changes how precisely he can use them. The more unstable he is, the broader and rougher the attacks. When he’s more stable, his attacks can be more precise and controlled, such as shaping his flames into weapons and other uses.

Anywho, I’ll have to start on making these differences more noticeable for the Rin’s I’m drawing out, because I do like to draw him at different times of his life (if you take note of his hair,,, its one of his best indicators ahah). But yes. Now that I’ve written this concept out (after I drew these sketches whoops) I’ll be showing off a little more of the story once some heavy inspiration hits me. I hope you guys enjoy hearing about this AU as much as I love writing and drawing it!!!!! I’d love to hear feedback or any fic recommendations..! They are my fuel.

Thank you for listening to the end, much love <3

[superbat-love]

Monster AU. Bruce gave a long suffering sigh at the next name on his list.

“Kent,” he greeted him curtly, wanting to get his nightly hunt over with.

His victim, Clark Kent, lit up when he saw him. “Bruce! I had hoped you’d be the one to show up tonight,” he said.

"It’s the Bogeyman to you,” Bruce replied. “I told you to control your emotions when you’re fighting and not attract attention, Superman. I’m a busy monster, and I have bigger fish to fry.”

Clark looked crestfallen. “Can’t I be your exclusive prey?”

Exhaling slowly, Bruce weighed his options. Unlike other nocturnal predators who preyed on the innocent, he only targeted criminals. Yet, lately, he'd found himself the reluctant guardian angel of a specific alien whose energy signature attracted magical creatures like moths to a flame.

Of course, his services weren't entirely altruistic. Clark's fear, potent enough to feed his family for a month, served as a fair trade for his protection.

"I’ll think about it,” Bruce growled. Black tendrils floated menacingly around him. “Now, feed me!”

"Okay~ Today I’m going to watch this horror movie that was recently released. According to the reviews, it’s really scary,” Clark announced, showing Bruce the video on his laptop.

“Zombies? Figures you’d pick the most incompetent monsters to be scared of.”

Clark scooted over on the sofa, patting the seat next to him. Bruce sat down, scowling at Clark when he slung an arm across the back of the sofa, but Clark just grinned back innocently at him.

Bruce gave a scathing critique of the movie over Clark's terrified yelps. He fell asleep nestled against the man halfway through, but he did manage to harvest a significant amount of fear that night.

[revelboo]

juhytfrdfghjhbv i saw your transformers figures and i love them, where did you get them and do they have a name or like a class?? also love the writing:) have a good day<3

The bigger ones are made by Flame Toys as model kits. Bigbadtoystore has them on their website. Hobby Lobby carries them, too. The tiny guys are made by Blokees. They’re also model kits, but sold as blind bags. You can buy them from Blokees’s website if you like blind bags and chance, or on Ebay already opened- there’s a rare figure in each set that folks buy entire cases of to find, then resell the rest.

Soundwave Headcanons- telepathy

• After so long, Soundwave has mastered the ability to shut out noise. Namely the thoughts of the other Cybertronians around him. Because as useful as his ability can be, it can also be overwhelming. It’s so easy to lose his sense of self, drowning in the minds of others. So he erects mental walls. Compartmentalizes things and emotions.

• Unfortunately, something about your messy, emotional human brain thwarts his every attempt to shut you out. You’re there in the back of his processor like a song he can’t stop humming. He can’t exactly hear your thoughts, but he gets snippets. Flashes of images and emotion. The stronger the emotion, the more he gets tangled in it. Everything so bright and visceral and alive it’s almost frightening.

• As unsettling as he finds you and your emotions, he’s fascinated, too. Figuring out he can use his cassettes as a way to keep you distracted whenever your emotions are out of control is a happy accident, but one he’s willing to use. It’s as much for his sake as yours. You’re hurting and now he’s hurting, being dragged along with you because he can’t block out your emotion. And it’s overwhelming him.

• It’s a bonus that having his cassettes keep an eye on you keeps them somewhat out of trouble. He’s not under any illusions that they’re being good, but they’re less likely to get into anything really dangerous if you’re about and they’re responsible for you. Hopefully.

[masochist-marmot]

TMAGP Theory: Tria Prima

Spoiler alert/disclaimer: Written after The Magnus Protocol episode 34; also spoilers for The Magnus Archives

I don't know if this idea has been properly explored yet, but I have had a weeklong hyperfixation where I've delved into alchemy and tried to figure out the inner workings of TMAGP universe. This theory is half-boiled at best, and I apologise if I've misunderstood any of the basic concepts. It seems like even alchemists never fully agreed on them, so they're contradicting each other a lot. That being said, let's get into it.

Perspective Reset

First of all, I think we are collectively still too hung up on the Fears as entities or powers. It's very tempting to classify things with the same framework we're familiar with (and conditioned to), but I think it's preventing us from seeing the bigger picture. Prior to the end of TMA, it's possible that no entities ever even existed in this universe, but the incidents have been taking place for a long time. The creators have also explicitly said that they wanted to create a new rule set, and I doubt that they'd build it with the same blocks. Because of this, I set out to find a set of rules that has nothing to do with the fears.

Classical Elements (Very Briefly)

I will oversimplify this for my sanity and yours. We have the four classical elements: fire, air, water and earth. In the classical worldview, these make up everything on Earth. Each element has two corresponding properties, as you can see in the figure below (fire is hot and dry etc). The elements are in a constant process of circulating and flowing, breaking apart and coming together (sand into water, water into stone, stone into wood...), but fire and air are considered more active and volatile while water and earth are more passive and stable. The rest of the universe is filled with the fifth element, quintessence or aether. It is considered heavenly and perfect and completely unchangeable.

The Three Principles (Tria Prima)

Later alchemists made the addition of (first two and then) three principles that work on the elements and in conjunction with them. These principles were used to describe the alchemical process and its parts, but they also had more metaphysical implications. These are the foundation of my theory.

Salt 🜔: Aka. Corpus or The Body. Things that are solid and stable but also corruptible. The dust that's left behind after something is burned. Associated with earth, water and the property of coldness. In humans, associated with the physical body and therefore physical health. Salt is also associated with preservation and sometimes even rebirth. It's what's left behind after the alchemical stage of putrefication, and therefore what undergoes purification.

Mercury ☿: Aka. Spiritus or The Mind. Things that are volatile and soluble. The alchemical solvent or the smoke that rises from a fire. Considered the perfect agent because it demonstrates properties of both a liquid and a solid. The principle of flowing freely between elements and perhaps even heaven and earth. Associated with air, water and the property of wetness. In humans, it's the mind, or the intellect, knowledge and rationality of a person. Some seem to consider it the universal, platonic idea of thought, as mercury wouldn't be restricted by an individual body.

Sulphur 🜍: Aka. Anima or The Soul. Things that combust, but also the principle of combustibility. The flame that manifests when something is burned. Associated with fire, air and the property of hotness. With fire and air being the most active elements, sulphur is also the catalyst for change. In humans, associated with the soul, or the consciousness that links the body to the mind. It's the emotions, ambitions and desires that animate the body.

Why have I given you the symbols? Because they're all there on the OIAR logo:

(I also circled aether because I thought I'd talk about it later but decided not to, so you're free to make your own conclusions)

I currently believe that these three principles are omnipresent in the Magnus Protocol universe. They're just part of the makeup of the universe, causing no one harm. At least, when they're in balance.

The Theory - It's All About Balance

There's been a lot of talk about balance by now.

"The institute, alchemy, all of it. "It’s all about balance. Dua prima, four elements, seven planets, it’s all the same. You’ve got to keep things balanced. And if something is missing, if someone is misplaced, the equation doesn’t balance… and that’s when things get bad…" (Celia, episode 30)

Here Celia mentions dua prima, which (as I alluded to before) is an earlier theory surrounding Sulphur and Mercury. Salt was proposed as the third principle in a later theory, but by now the tria prima seem to be more widely accepted.

"Not that anyone cares as long as it all balances, right? Not too much mercury or the world ends, not too much sulfur or we all go mad…" (Colin, episode 19)

Huh.

So, let me lay out the actual theory.

The principles usually strive for balance, because it's their natural state. However, sometimes the balance is skewed by human action or some other unexpected force. This imbalance can happen on an individual level or it can affect objects (which then become "cursed") or locations (which then become "poisoned"). In fact, the Magnus Institute calls such poisoned locations loci (singular "locus"). I also hypothesise that this is how the OIAR categorises their incidents (1. individuals - 2. locations - 3. objects).

When there is an imbalance, the affected person/area/object starts to display an unnatural amount or lack of one principle. For example, if there's an abundance of salt, we may see people or things slow down, become passive, even crystallise. Bodies preserved despite obvious corrosion, infections that putrefy and then purify flesh into a "perfect" form. The clearest example I can think of would be episode 3, where the character quite literally transmutes into a tree. Or episode 23 where a character inserts a piece of coral under her skin and begins to paralyse as it grows out of her. If you absolutely have to compare to TMA, I'd say a lot of Flesh, Corruption or Buried statements would fit under salt. It is associated with earth, water and literal bodies, after all.

Abundance in mercury would manifest as things getting a little weird, unstable and volatile, but in a subtle, flowy way. Changing architecture, people seeming odd, things dissolving into others, time or dimensions being unstable, perhaps the limits of a human psyche being broken. I'm thinking of the liminal spaces from episode 8 or the pier from episode 33. The fog is an especially fitting link, what with fog being a manifestation of air and water. I also think the entire Hill Top Centre has been affected. And now that I started, you could easily make connections to the Stranger, the Lonely, the Spiral and the Eye. Which brings an ironic twist to Colin's statement. Too much "mercury" already ended the world once.

Abundance of sulphur would bring out more abrupt changes, it would twist people's passions into unhealthy obsessions, drive people to anger and senseless bloodlust, give consciousness to the unconscious and animate the inanimate. In fact, in episode 19, the character says of Newton's dog: "such a creature must by all natural law lack that essential and ephemeral anima." Another case of an unexpectedly conscious thing would be Liverpool (episode 32), who is coincidentally also incredibly angry. I also think Ink5oul's tattoos have an element of sulphur, not only because their first stolen design (sun with a dot in the middle) evokes the alchemical symbol for sun. In TMA sulphur would probably be attributed to the Slaughter, the Hunt, the Desolation or the like.

I have noticed that a lot of TMAGP incidents involve an unhealthy desire, passion, obsession or (literal and metaphorical) hunger. It's also noticeable that the symbol for sulphur appears on the OIAR logo four times (once in each corner of the square representing the elements). I don't know if this is a stylistic choice or if it has deeper implications. But it's there. And as Colin implies, it could be bad.

The beautiful part about this framework is that it doesn't set any clear limits between the categories, because the balance can be disrupted in many ways. Lack of salt means abundance of sulphur and mercury, and their distribution may also vary greatly. I also don't know if the OIAR ranks their incidents in these terms. They probably have some needlessly complicated system that's practically undecipherable. (I took a long time trying to figure out the DPHW and I'm no closer to solving it.)

End note

I have some thoughts about what the goals of the OIAR and the Magnus Institute are based on this theory, but this post is too long now. May make a follow-up eventually. Or procrastinate until they just tell us.

Edit: I have now written my theory posts on the OIAR and the Magnus Institute. Go read if you're so inclined.