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armandaughter · 3 days ago

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Interview With the Vampire + Perfumes

i posted about wanting to make this and people were also curious, so here it is :) i absolutely have no qualifications to be making this. i just love perfumes and iwtv and wanted to combine em!! lmk ur thoughts <3 fyi this gets pretty long-winded and analysis heavy at times

louis de pointe du lac (new orleans/paris eras)

very slow world in my mind. i think he'd gravitate to the warm spice of it and the hints of whiskey. this also smells a bit like incense, which i think is fitting for him. louis' religious upbringing will always inform how i approach him. but this scent also reminds me of the clubs in new orleans, cigars and rich drinks, and that transfers over to him exploring new sides of himself in paris with photography and engaging with art and cafe scenes. i question the inclusion of the balsamic top note, it's actually much more tea-aligned! this is also quite masculine to me, which makes sense as, particularly in nola, he had to be a little overly masculine-- older brother, man of the house after the death of his father, business owner, and a black business owner in an extremely racist setting. i like this for him, i'd even go as far as to say maybe it's not quite masculine enough.

runner-ups: full incense by montale, nothing but sea and sky by une nuit nomade (this one is very bergamont heavy, which i also think he'd like) foreshadow by curatrix (this one is in my rotation rn and i am almost out because i use it SO much. musk, tobacco, incense, cypress)

louis de pointe du lac (dubai)

this one isn't similar to the above at all, but i think it sort of stays in line with what we know of louis in dubai. it's a very fresh scent, with residual fruity and cedar/fig accords snuck in there that are more noticeable with longer wear. this feels performative like most of dubai, put-together and appealing to the senses but deceptive at the end of the day. i think it's still something louis genuinely likes, but i see him, when he's happy, wearing something a bit more explicitly sweet-spicy, less wood-spicy. this is an amalgamation of the above scent and other sweeter, floral accords he'd drift to, but not quite leaning into it the way i suspect he'd be were he actually healed, had he actually confronted his past in full and emerged content with his circumstances.

runner-ups: of true minds by liis (this is inspired by shakespeare's sonnet 116, also smells like sooo complex. floral spicy with a bit of suede) angel dust by fugazzi (cashmere, pepper, bergamont)

lestat de lioncourt

i actually took so long to decide for lestat. after consulting @operahouses (thank you for enduring my lengthy perfume character analysis) i'm happy w this. it's very very floral, mostly rose, with jasmine and iris too. there's also the underlying patchouli and according to what i read, a sort of rosewater wine-y feel about it. walks the line of intense and mysterious with an elegant softness that feels very true to lestat coming off of paris and finding his footing (and the love of his life) in new orleans.

runner-ups: l'olympia music hall by histoires de parfums (floral, also the name is very lestat in the vampire lestat to me) baccarat rouge 540 by maison francis kurkdjian

rockstar lestat

this is zoologist, which literally makes perfumes off of animal scents. i think that is so fucking cool. anyway-- this is a very bold scent that takes the sweetness of the initial perfume i shared and expands upon it with some really interesting notes. there's passionfruit, leather, teakwood, and incense. (INCENSE, which i think he'd intentionally wear for the nostalgia it could potentially evoke in louis!!) but, overall, a very impressive and borderline questionable miasma of smells. because of this, it's startlingly unique. verrrry memorable, which is kind of the desired experience of a rockstar trying to get his ex-husband back.

runner-ups: triumph of bacchus by argos (this one has such an insanely diverse array of accords i feel only he could pull off) do not disturb by vilhelm parfumerie (this leans into femininity a bunch, which i am down for with lestat. also has some questionable accords but again i think this era welcomes that)

armand

so i'm not even going to pretend i'm not projecting with my first choice for him because i am-- press gurwitz 0.3 is soooo criminally underrated. it's got the knockout combo of the cinnamon and vanilla but when the smoky spice of it hits... it HITS! it also isn't overly sweet at all. the vanilla subdues the sweet notes and leaves sort of a smoky yet clean spiciness over time. i think also the idea of him wearing a gourmand scent has a lot of interesting character connotations in it-- wanting to be desired, wanting to be almost edible, to attract that sort of temptation. if not a gourmand, i can see him preferring fresh, clean, sharp scents-- hence the choices for him as rashid.

runner-ups: milk by commodity (amber, firewood, tonka bean; ultimately the marshmallow accord felt a bittttt out of line for him but this scent is GOOD. a pinch sharp but in a way that's striking rather than obtrusive) female christ by 19-69 (eucalyptus, woody, with cashmere and cinnamon at the base notes, emerging the longer the scent is worn)

armand as rashid

this one has a lot going on but i NEED you to stay with me and hear me out. first of all-- there's notes of pineapple here, which i feel are soooo good given the 'honey and pineapple' exchange. there's also a lot of sweetness here and while the 'honey' part isn't explicit, i feel like it's still reminiscent of it. also, who's to say rashidmand doesn't wear honey body oil with this? wouldn't put that past him. otherwise, this is also pretty floral, fresh, and long-lasting. my one flaw is it is intense, especially for his playing as rashid. my defense here is this: he's already gone with the slutty shirts and the speaking out of turn, so a memorable scent doesn't seem suddenly too far, at least not to me. also, the bottom notes like the vanilla stabilize the intensity. for the first hour or two after application, i'm sure this lingers in a room (which is what he'd want) but as it fades, you'd have to be in closer proximity to notice it.

runner-ups: honey & crocus by jo malone london (this is the honeyed scent that could replace the pineapple one, with traces of saffron and lavender included too which go nicely) fleur de délice by reminiscence (VERY herbal and fresh)

daniel molloy (1973)

ok i am pretty sure i'm not the first to say this but he's SO jazz club. to me. this on top of probably perpetually smelling like cigarettes. and i've heard it's more masculine-leaning, with the rum, spice, and tobacco staying on the longest. i think in devil's minion canon armand would also be all over this like a bloodhound. not much else to say aside from boozy and kinda sexy. the kind of thing you'd wear to go out and score drugs or a fatal vampire encounter.

runner-ups: none! i stand by this one. possibly book by commodity, which uses cedar and sandalwood to come shockingly close to putting your nose in a book. also accomplishes a sort of smokiness.

daniel molloy

this is kind of like if jazz club matured a bit. from what i read (i haven't smelled this one) it's very leathery and dry with a slight sweetness at the end. it has some pine and dates in the list of accords, which works for me too. it is also a bit sensual and i think daniel would wear this in dubai to see louis for the first time since '73. not too intense, which i think he'd prefer. @operahouses suggested a new car smell and i STRONGLY agree.

runner-ups: ombré leather (2018) by tom ford (this went too herbal for me to attribute to him, but i still think leather is good for him)

claudia in new orleans

getting into headcanon territory. this scent is sweet, light, and rosy. i'm imagining this is a gift from lestat before things soured. also something to wear before she branched out and developed her own preferences. i personally think this one is a bit strong and just a tad like a bath, but then again it's very clean and satisfying when the initial scent sits for a little. the sugarcane there brings it together too. this would also contribute to the infantilization both louis and lestat force upon her, the shared--whether explicit or implicit- idea that she's theirs, only the 'girl' part of daughter and too young and naive to be the 'woman.' i feel like she'd grow to hate this smell eventually the same way she grew to resent what lestat and new orleans meant for her.

runner-ups: rose of no man's land by byredo (i didn't think the spices fit, but could be that's a stepping stone for her)

claudia (paris)

i haven't tried this scent but i do love curatrix. so i think in a similar way to daniel's progression this is an older, sultry, woody-sweet rendition of what a younger claudia would enjoy. knowing curatrix, it's probably a bit intense, but for a woman duelling with the reality she will not ever be properly seen as a woman, i think it's very fitting! the cloves and tobacco lend age to it while the honey and vanilla sweeten it up a bit, dries down into a suggestion of ginger. i think the name would attract her as well. claudia owns being a vampire-- she loves it, wants so badly to be loved by the coven for loving vampirism, so the idea of fatale is definitely something she would gravitate to in my mind.

runner-ups: hypnotic poison by dior (similar wood themes with a bit of floral and fruitiness mixed in, but mostly, the bottle is cute) carmilla by immortal perfumes (the name, naturally-- also has a blood accord!! was my first choice until i remembered fatale exists)

madeline

gets a classic. i wore this for years before i started to present less feminine. it's clean, floral, sweet, a bit powdery, and stays on forever. not too overwhelming but def alluring. one of thee ultimate femme lesbian choices to me!

runner-ups: immortelle by chloé (still white floral with some tonka snuck in. i like the name for her a lot!)

santiago

i really have nothing to say other than this scent doesn't get very good reviews and it kind of pisses me off and that's perfect for him. def wears way too much of this and it pisses off everyone in the coven. the HEIGHT of gay man who is about to infuriate you.

okay i had a lot of fun doing this. so if anybody else matched my freak ab this i would LOVE to do more.

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ranticore · 16 hours ago

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Hii 🥰 I love your art so so very much and it's inspired me to start drawing again after about a year and a half of nothing. I was wondering if you could do a quick explanation of how you draw creature heads? Even with skull references and stuff I'm having troubles particularly with the eyes / eye placement and cheek areas

hi thank you, i'm happy you've gotten drawing again. i try not to make fully drawn 'here's how i do x' tutorials anymore since realising that i would just be training people to replicate my mistakes and photos really are the best reference

however not many people know HOW to use photorefs so i will show you this thing i made for someone else who asked a similar question in my dms once. step 1 is to discard any hangups you might have about tracing. professionals trace. it's fine.

for an example of what i mean when i say drawn tutorials just teach you how to replicate mistakes: i got the knee visibly wrong in my drawing here lol. but for a guide you get the idea. you basically want to put on x-ray goggles when you're looking at photos. you want to be able to see through the animal and understand 1. the axial skeleton [skull, ribs, spine] first and 2. the appendicular skeleton [pelvis, limbs] secondarily. you want to understand it in a 3D space - see how in my traced sketch, I have blocked out the ribcage as a solid form using contour lines which describe a curve. i didn't draw every individual rib, there's no need. don't get bogged down in the weeds, this drawing should take like 5 minutes max

the reason we are tracing and not just closely referencing is because this saves us from also having to worry about getting angles & proportions right. we will worry about those later. for now we are gaining understanding of how a body is formed without the pressure of having to get it 'right'.

okay so you asked about heads in particular so we'll look at heads. in the thingy above you can see that i traced a kite shape onto the front of the cranium before filling in the snout.

it's a canine and not super interesting but i think they show really well what goes on with the frontal bones. the cheek bones form the two lateral points of a kite shape.

if you start your sketch at the kite shape you can turn it in space

what you are looking for is the kite. the kite is not flat. the kite is the front of the cranium minus the nose/snout etc, it is laid out over a curved surface. you will find the eyes along the horizontal line and the cheekbones tucked under the bottom faces of the kite. the snout/nose/etc emerges from the crosshairs in the middle and the cheekbones follow the outer edge of the kite, but not the jaw. this is how i construct all my faces, human or animal doesn't matter it's all this underneath. using it i can visualise the hidden parts of the face such as the obscured cheekbone

try to find as many different types of animal or human heads as possible and trace the kite onto them. then you will see

#my biggest artist secret: the kite

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morganas-pendragons · 1 day ago

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Hands | Celebrimbor

gif by @quietparanoiac

I’m obsessed with this gif. Seriously.

Short little thing about celebrimbor’s hands. It’s ridiculous how attentive I am to this detail.

tagging @thatlittlered @pentaghasm (I really do not know who else wants to be tagged, I just tag based on previous interest) @erebusbabylon @ladyoflindon and @poetryvampire (since you said you were looking for softer Celebrimbor fics)

***

His hands are worn. The first time you feel them, he is cradling your own while tending to a burn you’ve obtained from your first real venture of crafting at the forge. You spend far too much time staring at the lines of his hands, the way the muscles of his fingers move as he cradles your own and applies salve before tenderly wrapping a bandage around the wounded area.

You practically melt when Celebrimbor places a kiss thereupon.

"Wait, Celebrimbor."

He allows you to take his hand in yours and shivers when you drag your fingers across his palm, whispering to yourself as you turn his hand over and examine the scars upon his knuckles. "Dearest," Celebrimbor whispers hoarsely, swallowing the knot of emotion in his throat as you curl his fingers and bring his hand to your lips. "Why are you-"

"Beautiful." You say firmly, interjecting your opinion before he can speak lowly about himself. "Worn hands are beautiful."

***

His hands are gentle. They are the hands of a creator, hands that must often care for precious things. You are his most precious thing in this world now. Precious things must be protected.

"I didn't know you could braid." You remark, leaning your head back into his hands as Celebrimbor easily weaves your hair together. "It feels phenomenal. You're so gentle."

He smiles and kisses the crown of your head. "As you know per our customs, Elves fix wedding braids for one another. My hair has always held curls well as that is its natural state. Yours is perfect for braiding," Celebrimbor reaches to the small pile of adornments you've kept for special occasions and pulls out a particularly detailed group of flowers to slip into the gaps of your braids. "And it will be my pleasure when that day comes."

***

His hands are careful, always moving with intent, with purpose. You find those same hands on either side of your head while your body remains caged beneath his own, his knee pressed into the part of your thighs as you stare up at him in wonder.

Celebrimbor's fingers flex in yours as you both hold your breath. The two of you had not thought you would get here. To be able to stand in front of the ones you love, to commit to the vows you'd made in front of your loved ones and the Valar.

"I love you." You whisper. His eyes shine with tears as you surge up to kiss him, and you can taste his tears on your tongue as he seeks to deepen the kiss.

Those hands do not leave yours once, grasping at your fingers with the intent of anchoring Celebrimbor to the present moment when he slides into the warmth of your body, into home. He moans low into the crook of your neck and fights the urge to allow his hands to wander.

Chest heaving, you turn your head to whisper low in his ear, "You can touch me, veru."

Those hands have never sought violence, nor had they inflicted them: They have only ever sought to create goodness, to hold greatness within his grasps and cradle it as the most precious thing he can hold.

You. You are the most precious thing Celebrimbor's hands will hold.

Translations:

Veru - Quenyan word for husband

#celebrimbor x reader #Celebrimbor #Rings of Power fanfiction #Rings of Power

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galpalaven · 1 day ago

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Felassan - Inquisition Companion + Romance Option

I blacked out after work and wrote this in a daze. Enjoy?

Felassan presents himself as a Dalish dreamer mage and friend of Solas, joining up with Solas from the very beginning after the Conclave.

He is romanceable by any gender or race, unlike Solas who is still race-locked (but bisexual — because the main gripe between the two is the topic of modern elves and anyone else being “real”). I think it would be interesting to also have specific dialogue if you try to romance both at once — Felassan would urge Lavellan to be careful with Solas either way, though it turns more clearly yearning and sad if the player has also triggered the beginnings of his romance.

Since Felassan’s addition to the group would be an extra mage, I think to balance all that out Cullen should be able to be taken at least on some outings, and we could have an extra rogue as well (Harding would fit here, I think).

more under the cut

Personality

As a friend of Solas and his direct counter, it’s immediately noticeable that Felassan is much more friendly and playful. Notably, he enjoys chatting up a Dalish inquisitor about being Dalish, and answers questions companions have about the elves with far more enthusiasm than Solas. If the two are in the party together, he will actively tell people not to listen to Solas and poke fun at him for being rude.

He gets along well with all of the other companions. Some who get along less well with Solas will comment on how they don’t know how he’s still friends with him when they are not in the party together. He gets along especially well with Sera, showing interest in her upbringing without making her feel condescended to the way Solas does. He particularly enjoys hearing about the Red Jennies and her efforts at helping to even the playing field for the underprivileged.

He gets along with Vivienne as well — I think it would be interesting for Vivienne to be vaguely familiar with him after he had been friends with Briala. I think it’s not a terrible idea for him to have still been involved there, too, as it could come in handy during Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts.

Story Influence

The main differences with Felassan’s presence would likely come into play mostly with things to do with the elves.

Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts

Felassan is one of the most useful companions in this quest. Knowing Briala personally makes it easier for the Inquisitor to convince Briala to either:

Get back together with Celene

Become the puppet behind Gaspard

Felassan knows his way partially around the palace and is able to direct the party slightly when looking for things needed to advance the quest. He is also friends with some of the servants, allowing them access to some of the servants’ tunnels in a pinch.

He makes cheeky, sarcastic comments about the nobility when asked. He’s better at not speaking about his past, so he doesn’t get shifty during the quest like Solas does. He’s happy to dance with the Inquisitor, enjoying the scandal it will cause, with maybe a special line with a Dalish Inquisitor. Rather than single them out and make them “special” compared to other Inquisitors, it’s mostly just on principle of relating to them as another elf, similar to dialogue that can be triggered with Bull about being Qunari (or Tal-Vashoth, in that case).

What Pride Had Wrought

Welcome Felassan as the 3rd option for the Well of Sorrows!

This is where he becomes a real player on the table. He will argue with Morrigan about the Dalish, correcting her outright in places. They never gave the Dalish Inquisitor a real chance to argue with her about things, or explain things themselves, so he has snarky commentary either correcting her or being surprised when she gets things somewhat right. There are also scenes where he will take up the explanation entirely.

Felassan being present also will give the player the correct answer to the rituals. He knows them, explains offhandedly that he’s been here before as an excuse, and makes it far easier for the player to ally with the Sentinels rather than fight them.

By the time they reach the Well, things are tense.

Solas still fights with Morrigan and the Inquisitor both. If the Inquisitor brought him and Felassan both, he will immediately reject the idea when Felassan offers himself as an option.

Romanced!Felassan wants to do this for you — he knows what will happen, he knows the weight of this decision, and he doesn’t want this for you. He will elaborate if asked that drinking from this well will bind you, not only to the memories within, but the will of Mythal. The Inquisitor can, at this point, shrug this off if they don’t believe in Mythal or that she is still alive to control them. If the Inquisitor still chooses to drink themself, he accepts this, but tells them that he will help them with any… side effects, should they arise.

Unromanced + High Approval!Felassan will say something similar — you are his friend and he wishes to keep you safe. He will elaborate similarly if asked with high approval.

Low Approval!Felassan offers himself as a Dalish authority, perhaps derisively suggesting that he is older and wiser than a Dalish inquisitor, and that this is his responsibility, not theirs.

Either way, Solas is NOT happy, but will ultimately accept the final decision.

Trespasser

We come upon the eve of the Betrayal of Felassan.

At low approval, Felassan will have left some time in between the end of the main story and Trespasser, seeking to follow in Solas’s footsteps and find him. Despite not having high approval, Felassan is still fundamentally opposed to Solas’s decision, and will be trying to track him down alone to stop him — something Solas has been running to avoid at every turn. He does not want to see Felassan — he does not want to kill his best friend.

High approval and/or romanced Felassan is present and there to help the whole way through.

Romanced Felassan particularly will have a scene where he will quietly pull his love aside and ask if they trust him. If they say yes (or “You’re scaring me.”), he will tell them that this will sound crazy, but ask them to listen until the end before saying anything else. He will explain the story of the Dread Wolf as he knows it — the rebellion, the Evanuris, the vallaslin, all of it — and then, at the end, explain that he knows this because he lived it. He tells the story of the slow arrow and the Dread Wolf (a Dalish inquisitor can recognize it midway and will interrupt with surprise) and explains that he was there. That he has known Solas for thousands of years, that he has walked this land for thousands of years.

He will also explain that he knows what Solas wants and that he must stop him — that they must stop him. Solas wants to fix what he thinks he broke, but the people alive today do not deserve the fate he would have of them.

And Felassan is willing to do whatever it takes to stop him.

High approval Felassan will explain in much less detail via commentary while discovering the murals in the Crossroads, leading up to eventually finding Solas.

Once Solas has been found, Felassan runs ahead of the group, disregarding calls for him to stop. The Inquisitor is left one man down as they chase after him until, finally, they reach the place where Solas waits — and they find Felassan in Solas’s arms, a knife through his ribs.

Felassan will be stabbed by Solas regardless of Felassan’s approval with the Inquisitor. However, depending on choices made during either Solas or Felassans personal quests, and maybe Solas’s level of approval with the Inquisitor, Felassan can die.

The Inquisitor who loves him or is his friend will rush forward as Solas stumbles back, catching Felassan and holding their hand over the wound, careful not to move the dagger. Between the blood and the Inquisitor’s mark consuming their other arm, they are a sad sight.

Solas apologizes, but states that it was necessary. He would only get in the way. The questioning continues as normal here, up to Solas taking the Anchor.

Romance

I’m not entirely sure how this would go yet. I think he’s playful and flirtatious if the Inquisitor starts it. He will throw out Dalish phrases sometimes “for privacy,” with a Dalish inquisitor, which comes with a very obvious, if not always visible, wink.

His quests do focus around his identity as an elf, and around preserving elven history, whether the Inquisitor is Dalish or not. While this kind of happens with Solas, a lot of his dialogue is about how wrong the Dalish are — Felassan provides a different, more loving perspective on the modern elves compared to the ancients.

I think a love triangle route between him and Solas would be SO juicy. He wants his friend to be happy, but he knows that Solas does not believe that the elves are full people, and is concerned for the Inquisitor because of this. I think even if the Inquisitor locks in Solas, if the flirts were triggered with Felassan, you CAN actually come back to his romance after Solas dumps you (which, especially if they let him remove the tattoos, can hurt both you and him). I think it unlocking a special scene where he says that yes, he knew what they were and yes, he chose to keep his because he wanted them, would be sweet (and relatable if you chose to kEEP the vallaslin).

Overall, I think his romance would be sweet and fun. A direct counter to Solas and Sera, two elves who hate other elves. Felassan is proud of being an elf, he is proud of the resiliency of both the Dalish and city elves. He’s interested in every part of the world, including the dwarves, Qunari, and humans.

It's been a very long time since I played DAI so please forgive any inconsistencies. I just needed to write something down after work lol. tagging people who showed interest earlier! @lammstrellicon @swoleas @isayashai @witchofthewakingsea @ash-soka

#dragon age #dragon age: inquisition #felassan #da:i

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fix-it-darlin · 12 hours ago

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D.A.M.N. Crew Headcanons

Freelancer

Doodles on the back of their hands

Never really specialized in anything as a kid and had way too many hobbies. They view this as a negative thing, but the rest of the crew is delighted to hear about their many interests.

Chicken scratch handwriting that only they can read most times.

Attempted to learn shorthand to remedy this but couldn't stick to it long enough to make much of an impact on their note taking style.

Didn't like their hair for a while and so they were always wearing some kind of hat. They still wear a hat a lot, but they've started to get more comfortable with it, especially as Gavin teaches them how to style it better.

Never had a close friend group before the D.A.M.N. crew and usually spent time in groups that seemed to just tolerate them while they were in school.

Used to read voraciously, but hasn't read a full book in about a year. They can manage articles and short stories, but a full book is asking a lot.

Talks to themself a lot and has nearly filled their phone's storage with all the voice notes they make.

Gavin

Gave himself dimples

Wears lots of rings, but one from Freelancer is worn on a chain rather than his hands

Favorite movie is the Princess Bride. The D.A.M.N. crew gets together for a movie night every few weeks and this is always his first suggestion.

Learned how to knit just so he could make Freelancer a hat for their birthday. It was a messy first attempt, but Freelancer loves it all the same.

Great gift giver

Damien made him join a book club with him after figuring out that he hasn't read a book in his life. Gavin gripes about this, but he's actually delighted to have someone to read with and keep him accountable there. He's tried to bring Freelancer into it too, but recognizes that they're too busy for books at the moment.

Damien

Has a very particular taste in energy drinks and doesn't like tea very much.

Black nail polish

His mom pushed him to be good at art as a kid, and he was, could render incredibly realistic studies of nature, but he hated it. He doesn't draw much in present time, but Huxley discovered one of his old sketchbooks at one point and was seriously impressed. Damien wanted to throw out the sketchbook, but Huxley's kept it for now.

When he does draw, it's these shitty little cartoons (I'm talking stick figures and shaky lines) he uses to make Huxley laugh, and only when he's particularly inspired.

Loves to take runs at the crack of dawn just so he can catch the sunrise and the early morning dew.

Has never seen snow in person

Huxley

Loves graphic novels (read all the Bone books as a kid)

Definitely has a rock collection, knows how to skip stones

Goes to poetry open mic nights with Lasko as a way to improve his diction but also train himself to formulate his words better. Some hilarious haikus and free verse have come out of this. Huxley's favorite is the one he performed about a raccoon trying to get tickets to a concert

Is incredibly gentle with his touch as though he's afraid that he'll hurt people with his hugs.

Has dressed up as a bulbasaur for Halloween before

Passed notes with Damien during a lecture that they shared. It drove Damien nuts, but Huxley wasn't sure how else to talk to him at the time. He and Damien still leave each other sticky notes on the mirror and Huxley treasures each of them.

Lasko

Has glasses and they slip down his nose all the time

You know the trope that when people take their glasses off, all of a sudden they're super hot? Yeah, Lasko is the exact opposite way because his lenses are pretty a high prescription and make his eyes look much bigger than they actually are. Take those off and he's immediately squinting and those eyes don't look so big anymore which makes him look uncanny. He's pretty self-conscious about that.

Listens to Mitski

Can quote the entirety of The Hobbit word for word and has very strong opinions about the movies. (He saw them against his will once and has never gotten over it)

Pretty deep morning voice surprisingly enough

Started doing yoga with Dear as a way to keep loose and relax although it's debatable how much relaxing is actually going on towards the end of their sessions and how much of it is just excuses to tease and flirt with each other.

Dear

Top two buttons of their shirt are always unbuttoned, they've got quite the collection.

Loves Lasko's squint that he gets when his glasses slip too far down his nose.

Was on the swim team when they were in school and were pretty good at it (this is an understatement, they set a couple of records for their school)

Nails are always very neatly trimmed and they usually have a clear coat or white nail polish on them

Loopy, neat handwriting

Has always been called a good listener. Little does anyone know that they talk Lasko's ear off just as much as he does their's. They know an insane amount about different species of coral and sea cucumbers and have a collection of books, photos, and articles about them that they've built up over the years.

Very good at figuring out people's strengths and makes a point of complimenting them on it. They are proud to say that they've flustered Huxley with their compliments because it took them the longest time to figure out what would really hit for him.

Has a tattoo on their back

Is part of Damien's book club and always has some of the most detailed notes on the books they read. It's become a bit of a competition between the two of them to see who has the best notes. It's all in good fun though.

#redacted headcanons #redacted freelancer #redacted gavin #redacted damien #redacted huxley #redacted lasko #redacted dear #redacted damn crew #redacted audio

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imorynn · 7 hours ago

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—-> GOOD GIRL ( a. o’connor)

➺ pairings : agnes o’connor • fem!reader

➺ genre / maintains : drabble, SMUT ( MDNI, 18+ ), masterbution, phone sex, somewhat daddy kink ( though it’s mocking ? Am I projecting ? I don’t fucking know. ) dirty talk, slight degradation, praise, nicknames ( sweetheart, slut, bunny, sweetheart, I am fucking feral—) mentions of strap usage ( Agnes’ part —)

➺ word count : 800+

➺ dividers by : @cafekitsune !!

“You pretty little troublemaker, just start touching that little pussy for me, hmm? Let me hear you…”

You were desirous in your bedroom at the sound of her velvet, taunting voice over the phone, it made the growing dampness in your panties almost unbearable. She was aware of where you were, and what you were anticipating. She was more than aware of how much you were waiting for it, yearning and heaving almost every late night as she departed from the police station house to demonstrate to you in unmediated experience what it was like to be mercilessly fucked until you collapsed.

Were you satisfied with who you had become? You, the sheltered-life, silent and bright-eyed succeeding young gal that you were within Westview? Is this what you had foreseen when you studied an eminent career in university and succeeded in graduating to pursue that very interest? Of course not. Though, the hours were long, and the days — while significant — they were crucial at the moment, and if your dating experience during these dull years has taught you anything, it was that dating those your age came with no fulfillment due to their lack of maturity and ability in making you feel safe, and desired. So, you took liking in an older audience — particularly Agnes O’Connor who was frankly not necessarily anywhere close to being stable and was constantly wavered with this peculiar aura you had yet to thoroughly discover, it seemed you relished in being fucked by a five-foot tall ( including five inches if you were to be specific) blue-eyed brunette who was around the age of 51 (or so it seemed) with a maturity and rogue confidence, sarcastic with no decency of your privacy, who knew precisely how to liquify your limbs and render your brain useless with the wet muscle of her tongue, and her smirking mouth, and her calloused fingers, and the sight, taste of her pussy, her str—

“Come on, sweetheart. I know you’re waiting for me, wearing nothing other than one of my flannels you love so much and those ribboned panties you know I like…” A deep inhale was heard from the other line — an expression you could already visualize the moment you heard the faint graze of fabric coming undone; pretty features shadowed by the dim light cast in that unkempt office of hers, jawline tight, pink lower lip tucked between her teeth with a quirk between her brows, pupils practically absorbing the blue hue of her eyes as they became wider, hazed. “Betcha’ there’s a wet spot in them from how needy you are to be fucked over and over until you cry on my fingers. Things are running a little slow for me down here, so you’ll have to get yourself nice and ready for me, how’s that sound, hon?”

The fingers of your right hand danced slowly down to where you needed them most while the other undid the remaining buttons of her flannel. When those spit-soaked lips of yours separated, one name laced with a title resided on your tongue, and it clamored from the pit of your heaving lungs the second shaking digits dragged between your slippery folds from entrance to sensitive clit. “Yes, detective Agnes…”

A subtle smirk laced her tone as she spoke, her satisfaction with the outcome unmistakable. “Good girl.”

In a fraction of a second, the sensation scorched and twisted and ached — you fervently welcomed it, and allowed it to increase. Whimpers and moans crawled your your throat and into the phone’s speaker while continuing your ministrations, attempting to recollect her every action and favor, because fuck, does she know how to work every bit of you with the same raw scrutiny she carried for her job.

“Goodness, bun, you’re gonna make me come with those dirty pretty sounds. Such a fucking slut, aren’t you? Two fingers, slooowly in and out … in and out before rubbing your clit, just like I do it.”

You sharply gasped, digits slowing down their erratic pumps, faint squelching sounds reaching your ears and you felt your own arousal oozing down the curve of your ass, soaking the pattern fabric clinging to you and into the mattress below. Your overbearing impatience clashed with her orders ; the faster you would cum, the faster she would come, the faster you get to experience the blaze of stars and feel yourself getting split open and filled to the brim. It was obscene, ferocious, nearly maddening how desperately you needed her, the extent to which you would go to continue experiencing the way she was making you feel every single damn night. It was filthy and boisterous as you continued fucking yourself with your delicate fingers, never as good as how she did it, yet sufficient enough to set the mood for what you anticipate will be a sprawling, enduring play.

Wet thrusts brought your orgasm closer, taking you higher each time you brushed your special spot.“You’re wet for me, aren’t you? Waiting for me to fuck you dumb with my strap? Waiting for daddy’s cock, huh?”

The deriding, no less titillating, octave in her words — the nickname — made a searing heat crawl up your throats and spread across your already flushed cheeks. The visual of her mouth twisted into a grin with her hips snapping to meet yours was the last thing you saw before the stars and sparkles appeared behind your lids. The orgasm, fulfilling and ardent, was enhanced by the cruelty of her words and the promise of was was yet to come.

“Stay where you are, pretty bunny. Daddy’s on her way.”

#agatha all along #agatha all along x reader #agatha harkness #kathryn hahn #Kathryn Hahn Agatha #agnes of westview #agnes o'connor #agnes o’connor x reader #agnes o’connor x fem!reader #𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 ── 🎐ᝰ.#agatha harkness x reader smut #agatha harkness x fem!reader #detective agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness smut #Agatha Harkness x fem!reader smut

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tortoisebore · 3 days ago

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more than enough (aka hey, sharpshooter sequel) sneak peek 🤲

since i'm not posting any of this until it's all written and i have absolutely no idea when that will be, i wanted to give u all the first 1,700ish words of the first chapter of part 2 to hold us all over <3

Sirius was in a surprisingly good mood.

He really shouldn’t be, all things considered. New York was at the tail end of a sweltering heat wave, for one—hot, humid August air rippled in wavy mirages off the streets, and the tiny window unit in his apartment didn’t do shit against the evening sun, and the bridge of his nose was still pink from a particularly long afternoon walk around Central Park last weekend, but nevertheless, he was in a very, very good mood. Maybe it was good karma finally coming back around, or the universe had woken up one morning and decided it was done fucking with him. After the shit show that had been his last semester of college—the entire eight months since January, really—he figured he deserved it.

“Iced Americano for Sirius!”

He darted through the sullen little crowd assembled around the pickup counter as the barista slid his drink forward in a plastic to-go cup. He popped on a lid and grabbed a paper straw with practiced speed, maneuvered his way back to the entrance and called out a quick “thanks” as he threw his shoulder into the door and raced off in the direction of the museum.

After graduation, he’d wormed his way into an internship at a modest little contemporary art museum tucked away on a shady street in the West Village. The pay was shit and the busy work was worse, but he’d been offered a full time apprenticeship after the intern contract expired, and since he wasn’t exactly in a position to be turning down jobs in the industry, he’d enthusiastically accepted. It would be a great first gig, if nothing else—he’d be working under a mid-level curator, sourcing pieces, filing paperwork, and arguing with estates over pricing and displays and whose name would be biggest on the programs. It wasn’t glamorous by any means, but it was real, and it would get his foot in the door of the curation world, and that’s what mattered.

To close out the summer, the museum had been hosting guest seminars all week for the dozen or so interns on staff. Most were at least mildly interesting, but it was Friday, and Sirius had quite magnificent plans for the weekend, so he was putting a hell of a lot of faith in this singular iced Americano to pull him through the next two hours of the last seminar.

His usual coffee shop around the corner was rarely busy, but today he’d gotten stuck behind a group of suits each ordering individual lattes and ended up cutting it a bit closer on time than he'd have liked. He skipped up the flight of stone steps at the front of the museum and checked his phone—he had four entire minutes to spare, thank god—and was just about to tuck it back away when it began vibrating in his hand.

He glanced at it again, gave a happy little hum and threw open the lobby door as he answered.

“Oh, hello.”

Remus gave a quiet little laugh on the other line, and oh, wasn’t that the most perfect little addition to an already especially wonderful afternoon? “Oh, hi,” he echoed. “You sound chipper.”

“Why, of course I do. It’s Friday afternoon and I have an ice cold coffee in my hand, Remus. The world is blossoming before my very eyes.”

“Wow. Good day?”

“Very. Yours?”

“Not a single complaint.”

Sirius hummed fondly. He slowed to a stop in the hallway outside the theater room, turning towards the wall so he wouldn’t be caught grinning to himself. “Are we turning into optimists?”

Remus tutted. “God, I really hope not.”

Sirius bit back a smile, tapped the toe of his shoe against the marble baseboards and pulled his phone away from his ear just enough to check the time. “I truly do hate to cut this short, but you’ve got about two and a half minutes before I’m supposed to be in this seminar.”

He heard shuffling on the other line, a muffled curse, and then Remus’ voice came from further away. “Shit—it’s already three?”

“Mhm,” he hummed around his straw. “Don’t tell me you’re about to be late to class, you heathen.”

“I forgot to set an alarm,” Remus huffed. “I keep severely underestimating how much time it’s going to take me to get through these global rhetoric readings.”

Sirius grimaced. “Hey, one more week, and then it’s goodbye, global rhetoric forever.”

“If the final doesn’t kill me first.”

“You’ll do great, you big old nerd,” Sirius chided. “I’ll help you study this weekend if you want. Run some flash cards, try some interrogation-style quizzing…”

“Interrogation style?” Remus repeated amusedly, his voice closer to the phone again.

“I’m thinking a good old-fashioned flashlight to the forehead might do the trick.”

“Depending on how the review goes today, I might just take you up on that.”

Sirius glanced behind him as a couple of the other interns wandered into the theater room, checking the time again to be safe. “You’re coming to me tonight, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be over after class,” Remus replied. Sirius heard some shuffling, then keys jingling in the background. “That’s actually why I wanted to try and catch you before your seminar—do you have anything to make at home or do you want me to grab something on the way?”

“Oh, my hero,” Sirius gushed. “Yes, please grab something—get whatever you want. I don’t care as long as I don’t have to attempt to cook anything.”

“Hey, you did really good with dinner last week,” Remus offered kindly. “I went back for seconds, remember?”

Sirius hummed a flat note. “You’re biased, darling. Your opinion can’t be trusted.”

“I’d tell you if it was bad.”

“I really, really don’t think you would.”

Remus hesitated. “I mean…well. Maybe not. But I definitely wouldn’t have gone back for seconds if it was that bad.”

“Well, it’s your turn next, and I’m expecting opulence after last time, Lupin. I want nothing short of fine dining.”

“Oh, god,” Remus tutted. “I really should have done something easy and kept your expectations low.”

“At this rate you’ll be a full fledged chef by Christmas.”

“Well, tonight you’re getting something cheap and most likely dumped out of a paper box. No opulence allowed on a Friday.”

“Deal,” Sirius smiled. He snuck another look into the theater room, spotted a deck of slides thrown up on the projector, and sighed reluctantly. “I have to get in there in the next twenty seconds.”

“Okay,” Remus sighed back. Sirius heard a door shut and lock and imagined he was leaving his apartment for class. “I’ll text you when I leave school.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Have fun,” Remus smiled. “Love you.”

Sirius’ stomach fluttered. He couldn’t believe it was still doing that, all these months later, but it was a surprisingly frequent occurrence these days.

“Love you, too.”

He allowed himself five seconds to goon grin down at his phone after hanging up, to admire the newest in a lovely series of photos of the two of them he’d chosen for this week’s lock screen, and then turned on his heel and slipped into the theater room just as his supervisor began introducing the guest.

His usual seat in the second-to-last row was taken, so Sirius slid into one in the back with only a half-hearted little huff. If it were last month—last week, even—he might have put up a bit more of a fuss about losing his unassigned-assigned seat to a rando from the marketing team, but not today. No; today was Friday, Remus was bringing home something greasy and delicious for dinner, and Sirius couldn’t be bothered to be anything but ecstatic for the weekend. He took several long sips of his coffee when the slides at the front of the room flipped to a rundown of the talk—digital curatorial practices in contemporary media landscapes, how very tantalizing for a Friday afternoon—and settled in with a goal to stay at least a little awake for the next two hours.

The speaker—a short, middle-aged man with a vaguely northeastern accent—took off on his introduction, and something about the monotone drone of his voice sent Sirius drifting off into his thoughts nearly instantly. He fiddled with a chip on the back of his phone case for a moment before giving in and flipping it over. The photo from the weekend before waiting on the lock screen really was particularly swoon-worthy; what had started out as a double date picnic in Central Park with James and Lily had turned into an hours-long stroll around the reservoir that left Sirius and Lily sunburnt, James with an infuriatingly perfect tan, and Remus with about a hundred more freckles than he’d started the day with. The four of them had eventually parked it beneath the shade of a line of trees, sprawling out on the thin, brightly-colored woven blankets Lily had brought and savoring the warmth of the late evening sun. Sirius had been feeling especially fond, what with the smattering of new freckles dotted along the bridge of Remus’ nose, and the golden light of the sunset was practically glowing on his skin, so he’d tossed his phone to Lily and demanded she take a new photo for his lock screen.

The impromptu little shoot had produced several pictures that Sirius loved—one of the adorable, disgruntled scrunch of Remus’ nose as Sirius coaxed him up from his lounging on the grass, another of him carefully pulling Sirius’ sunglasses off and perching them on the top of his head, and this one, his favorite, of himself raised on his knees, pressed up against Remus’ back with his arms thrown around his shoulders, pressing a smiley kiss to his cheekbone. Sirius studied the photo and recalled the warmth of Remus’ skin, the surprised, breathy little laugh he’d let loose and the feel of his hand slipping around the back of Sirius’ neck, tugging him forward and craning his head back to press one, then two quick kisses to his lips.

A series of bright, fluttery feelings took off on a twirl somewhere beneath his ribs, pulsed warm and sugar sweet under his skin and made him bite back a smile. Sirius took a long, contented breath in and savored it.

Not so long ago, these quiet little moments of fondness were few and far between. However much he’d tried to convince himself otherwise at the time, Sirius had spent a good chunk of the spring with a heavy pit of anxiety in his stomach, entirely positive that his and Remus’ relationship was one more unresolved, petty fight and a couple of strained silences away from shattering for good. They’d started it off strong, but that last semester in Boston was hard in ways that neither of them were prepared for.

#fic: more than enough

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tevanbuckley · 3 days ago

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If you could take Tims place for 8b how would the rest of the season play out? Would you put Tommy and Buck back together and if so, how?

oh where to begin...

tbh i think the bucktommy stuff is the easiest to fix, because the biggest problem (outside of needlessly losing an interesting new character) is it puts buck back to square one, so it could be solved by pretty much any variation of them getting back together. personally, i think the cleanest way would be to have tommy reach out after the kidnapping. would that be the most satisfying resolution? no, but it would stick with the theme of tommy showing up for buck and could be nested within the maddie storyline without taking up a ton of limited screen space. then i'd have buck actually think about his sexuality for thirty seconds (and say the word bisexual).

eddie is difficult bc his arc is dependent on how much truth there is to the speculation of ryan wanting out, but either way for the love of god PLEASE bring up shannon! my thing with that situation has always been eddie's refusal to accept that for all intents and purposes he didn't lose his wife, he lost his ex-wife, and i think having him finally grapple with that would be a good way to conclude his arc (whether he moves to texas or not).

athena is...frustrating, i think there's maybe something in her training new recruits. it would certainly give a bit more structure to her storylines than "random cop shit." i know a certain amount of copaganda is inevitable but 911 is especially bad for it (and imo has actually gotten worse over the years), partly because they refuse to take an actual stance (like why tf was the lady who got shot a sovereign citizen? the audience isn't stupid we know that's not the average victim of police violence). in theory the training stuff could help illustrate how policing is rotten all the way down the chain and potentially challenge some of athena's beliefs (i will be shocked if this happens)

for bobby i'd bring back some of the stuff that was touched on last season. he was an active suicide risk for christ's sake and are we really gonna drop all the tragic backstory about his family and then do nothing with it? perhaps his brother reaches out and causes problems or passes away.

madney and henren meanwhile i fear are a bit of lost cause this season. presumably madney is gonna be wrapped up with the kidnapping/pregnancy shit, which again forces chim into the position of "maddie's worried husband," don't get me wrong i think we'll get some stellar acting from kenny (and jlh) but "madney being sad," is not particularly interesting at this point.

similarly all the really juicy stuff with mara/ortiz/gerrard has already been pissed away — could've been especially interesting if hen and chim were still on the outs during the kidnapping but oh well — if tim's serious about wanting to "blow stuff up," one way to do that would be having hen consider a move to captain at another station. which (assuming they get s9) could even facilitate bobby taking a promotion down the line and her coming back to the 118 in his place.

#is...is that you tim?#911 abc #911 discourse #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #eddie diaz #athena grant #maddie buckley #chimney han #hen wilson #bobby nash #dia answers stuff

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strawberryfairi · 3 days ago

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I Want Her! — Ran Haitani

Pairings: Playboy! Ran Haitani X Black Fem Reader🤎 (ANYONE CAN READ🧚🏾‍♀️)

Synopsis: He knew he had to have you the moment he saw you

Content. MDNI: smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), kind of a corruption kink vibe, sexual tension, playboy! Ran, good girl! reader

Word Count: 6.2k

The dim light of the party was softened by hues of amber and gold, and the hum of loud conversation rolled around him, occasionally punctuated by laughter. He wasn’t particularly interested in tonight, in the setting or the people, save for one. His current “distraction,” as he preferred to think of her, was hanging off his arm. She had introduced herself four months ago with the kind of confidence that didn’t impress him but didn’t repel him either. She was convenient, loud, and unassuming. She didn’t expect anything of him, which suited him just fine.

But then, in a moment that felt strangely and ironically cinematic, she called over someone.

Ran’s first clue that something was about to change was in the tone of her voice. There was an eagerness in the way she said her name—light, almost playful—“Oh, hey! I didn't think you'd actually come!” The inflection was so casual, so careless, and yet it carried a current of significance that Ran couldn’t have explained if asked. He lifted his gaze, mildly curious at best, to see who this friend was.

And then, she walked into his line of sight.

The world stopped. Or at least, it did for him. He didn’t hear her name when she said it, didn’t register the friend’s voice introducing her. All he could do was stare. His breath hitched, caught on an invisible hook in his chest, and his grip on the plastic cup in his hand tightened just slightly.

She was mesmerizing. The kind of mesmerizing that made Ran realize he’d been looking at everything wrong up until this moment. Her skin was deep-toned, glowing under the soft, golden lighting. She wore a chocolate-brown bodysuit that molded to her body like a second skin, paired with a short black skirt that seemed tailored to perfection. The color palette was understated yet commanding, effortless in its allure.

Her braided hair was styled half up, half down, the braids cascading down her back and framing her face. A pair of gold drop earrings caught the light every time she moved, and her thin gold chain necklace rested delicately against her collarbone. There was a simplicity to her choices—minimalistic, yes—but each piece added to an overall aura that was regal, almost unattainable.

Ran couldn’t help himself. His eyes lingered, trailing over her with a mix of awe and something darker—an undeniable lust that curled low in his stomach and set his nerves alight. She spoke, her voice low and smooth, but he couldn’t follow a single word. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to listen—he did, desperately—but her lips moved with a grace that distracted him entirely. The way her mouth curved around words made him feel like a fool, as though he needed to watch her lips just to sound out syllables in his own head. But even then, he failed to catch anything coherent.

It wasn’t just her appearance that threw him. It was the way she carried herself—calm, confident, as though she didn’t need to prove a thing to anyone in the room. It was such a stark contrast to her friend, who practically clung to him like an accessory. This girl—this woman—was different. She didn’t fidget or force her presence; she simply existed, and in doing so, she commanded attention. Her movements were deliberate but not exaggerated, her posture poised.

He didn’t even notice when she stopped talking until the silence hung heavy in the air. Blinking, Ran snapped back to reality, realizing with a start that he had entirely missed his cue to introduce himself. She was looking at him now, her gaze steady but unreadable, as though she were already dissecting his hesitation.

He subtly cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. “Ran,” He said, offering his name like it was the only piece of himself he could manage to give her in that moment.

Her lips curled into a small smile—a gesture that felt both polite and enigmatic. “Nice to meet you,” She replied, her voice still as smooth as honey and satin. He swore the sound of it lingered, wrapping around him and settling in his chest like a warm weight.

From that moment on, Ran knew. The girl who had been keeping him company for the past few months—whose name he couldn’t even bother to recall at the moment—was no longer relevant. She faded into the background, a blurry figure at the edge of his mind, eclipsed entirely by this new presence. This new girl.

She had become his focus, his singular goal. He didn’t know her yet, not really, but he knew enough to be certain of one thing: he wanted her. Badly.

Ran wasn’t used to struggling when it came to women. He was attractive and knew it, his sharp features and athletic build often enough to turn heads without much effort. Add in his natural charisma, and getting what he wanted was never an issue. But this felt different. This wasn’t just about getting her attention. It was about keeping it, holding it, bending it until it was solely focused on him.

His mind was already spinning with possibilities, calculating the best way to approach her, to reel her in. He wasn’t worried about failing; failure wasn’t an option. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted something—or someone—with such intensity, and that made her all the more irresistible.

As the conversation shifted back to the friend, Ran found himself lingering near her, his presence almost overbearing. He didn’t mean to loom, but his height and the sheer force of his focus on her made it feel that way. Every time she shifted, his eyes followed, cataloging every detail. The curve of her neck, the way her earrings caught the light, the way her fingers rested on the edge of her glass. Every movement was a study in elegance, a stark contrast to the chaotic energy of the friend she had arrived with.

For a brief moment, she glanced up at him, her brow furrowing just slightly, as though she could sense his attention. Ran met her gaze, unflinching, and held it. Her eyes were sharp, discerning, and he felt an unexpected thrill when she didn’t immediately look away. Instead, she tilted her head ever so slightly, a silent question hanging in the space between them.

He didn’t answer—not verbally, at least. Instead, he leaned in, his voice low as he finally addressed her directly. “What'd you say? I didn't hear you.” He said, feigning innocence. It was a lie, of course. He actually heard every single word, but he wanted to hear her speak again, to feel the cadence of her voice ripple through him.

She raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at the corner of her lips. “I was just asking what semester are you?” She clarifies, her tone light but measured.

"Oh, fourth semester. I'm a sophomore."

Ran had always prided himself on his ability to read people. It was a skill honed through years of practice, trial, and error. Women, in particular, were like puzzles to him—ones he solved with ease more often than not. But this time was different. This girl wasn’t a puzzle with missing pieces he could fill in. She was a locked box, and Ran wasn’t even sure where to find the key. That thought alone exhilarated him.

He had seen her more often lately—just small glimpses around campus. At first, it had seemed coincidental. She was leaving the cafeteria as he was walking in, her hair catching the afternoon sun as she talked to a friend. Another day, he spotted her walking briskly toward her dorm building, earbuds in, seemingly in her own world. Each sighting was fleeting but enough to sharpen his focus, to remind him of why he had so easily discarded her friend.

The breakup had been quick and clean. His usual line came out with practiced ease, softened by a half-smile that never quite reached his eyes.

"You knew this wasn't gonna last forever, remember?"

It was late afternoon when Ran walked into the campus library. The tall, arched windows let in streams of golden light, the quiet hush of the space broken only by the occasional rustle of papers or the faint hum of fluorescent lights. Students were scattered throughout, some buried in books, others hunched over laptops, typing furiously.

He wasn’t planning to stay long—just coming to grab whatever stupid book his professor had told them all to get from the library—but then he saw her. She was seated at one of the long wooden tables near the far end of the room, her head bent over her laptop. A sleek presentation file was open on the screen, its slides filled with clean, precise text and diagrams. A girly spiral notebook lay beside her, filled with meticulous handwriting and neat bullet points. She was focused, completely unaware of her surroundings, and Ran felt his pulse quicken.

There she was: his challenge, his target.

He paused, leaning against the nearest bookshelf as he observed her for a moment. She was wearing a simple white turtleneck tucked into high-waisted jeans, her braided hair tied back today in a low ponytail. Her jewelry was just as understated as before—a small pair of gold hoops and a thin bracelet on her wrist. There was an elegance to her simplicity, a sense of refinement that made her stand out even in a sea of students.

Ran smirked. Making a move here, in this quiet and public setting, would require finesse. The thrill of it was intoxicating.

He walked over with the kind of confidence that turned heads, though he made sure to tone it down just slightly as he neared her table. His footsteps were soft against the carpeted floor, and when he reached her, he leaned down slightly, letting his voice drop to a low, friendly murmur.

“Looks intense,” he said, nodding toward her screen.

She startled, her head snapping up to look at him. For a brief moment, her expression was one of confusion, her wide eyes searching his face as if trying to place him. Then, recognition flickered, and she straightened in her chair, her fingers still resting lightly on the keyboard.

“Oh hey! It is,” she replied, her voice calm but tinged with a hint of surprise. “I have a big presentation next week.”

Ran tilted his head, feigning interest. “What’s it about?”

She hesitated, glancing at her laptop as if considering whether or not to indulge him. Finally, she said, “Well, it’s for my communication class. We’re analyzing persuasive techniques in media campaigns.”

Ran let out a low whistle, pulling out the chair opposite her without waiting for an invitation. “That sounds...impressive. And complicated.”

“ I mean, it’s not too bad,” she said, her tone modest. “It's just a tedious assignments kind of class.”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “You make it look easy.”

Her lips parted slightly at the comment, her gaze flickering to his face. There it was—that faint crack in her composure. She blinked, clearly unsure how to respond, and Ran couldn’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction.

“Do you always work this hard?” He asked, keeping his tone light, almost teasing. “Because I think you’ve been in here every time I’ve walked by.”

Her brows furrowed, a small crease forming between them. “You’ve seen me before?”

“Hard to miss,” He said smoothly, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile.

Her cheeks flushed, just barely, and she dropped her gaze back to her laptop, clearly trying to focus. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here,” She said, her voice quieter now, as if she were speaking more to herself than to him.

“That’s 'cause I’m not really the ‘library’ type.” Ran admitted, leaning back in his chair slightly. “But if I’d known you were here the whole time, I woulda became a bookworm way sooner.”

Her fingers paused on the keyboard, and she looked up again, this time with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Do you always talk like this?”

Ran chuckled, his grin widening. “Only when I’m trying to get someone’s attention.”

“Well, congratulations,” She said dryly, though her lips twitched as if fighting a smile. “You’ve got it.”

Ran studied her for a moment, noting the way she held herself—her posture straight, her gaze steady despite the faint flustered look in her eyes. She was composed, yes, but not immune.

“Good,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Because I’ve been trying to figure out how to introduce myself since the first time I saw you.”

That seemed to catch her off guard. Her eyes widened just slightly, and she tilted her head. “Since the first time...?”

He nodded, keeping his expression sincere. “You have this way of standing out, you know? It’s hard not to notice.”

Her flush deepened, and she glanced away, clearly flustered now. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not,” she muttered.

“It is,” he assured her, leaning forward again. “You’re... different.”

“Different how?”

“Regal,” He said, the word rolling off his tongue like honey. “Like you know exactly who you are and what you want. It’s rare.”

She blinked, visibly taken aback. For a moment, she seemed at a loss for words, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her notebook. “That’s...quite the observation,” She said finally.

Ran shrugged, letting his smile turn just a bit playful. “I’m good at reading people.”

“Oh, is that a fact?” She asked, raising a brow.

He nodded. “Mhm. And right now, I’m readin' that you’re working too hard. You need a break.”

She laughed softly at that, shaking her head. “A break? In the middle of the library?”

“Why not?” He said, leaning back in his chair with a casual confidence. “Five minutes won’t kill you.”

Her expression softened, and for the first time, she smiled—a small, genuine curve of her lips that sent a jolt of satisfaction through him.

The air on the sixth floor of the campus building was thick with the mingled scents of rubber flooring, faint cleaning solution, and sweat. It wasn’t a place she frequented, but the broken water fountain on the library’s main floor had sent her here. Her reusable bottle clutched tightly in her hand, she weaved through the sparse crowd of students, her head down to avoid accidentally locking eyes with someone she knew.

But then she stopped—completely halted, rooted to the spot.

Ran was here.

Her gaze landed on him almost instinctively, like gravity had shifted to pull her focus in his direction. He was at one of the pull-up bars, his broad, toned back glistening under the dim overhead lights. Sweat clung to his skin like a second layer, emphasizing the sharp cut of his muscles as he lifted his body with practiced ease. His arms flexed with each upward motion, his biceps tightening, his grip unyielding. The rhythmic sound of his breath, controlled and measured, carried faintly to where she stood.

Her chest tightened. She should look away, refill her water bottle, and leave. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

Her eyes betrayed her as they swept over him, lingering on the defined lines of his back, the faint curve of his shoulder blades, and the taut muscles of his legs visible under his athletic shorts. Then she noticed it—the intricate tattoo running down the entire right side of his body.

From his shoulder, across his ribs, and disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts, the inky design was mesmerizing. Thick, bold lines intertwined with delicate ones, creating a pattern that looked both deliberate and chaotic. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

A warmth crept up her cheeks, and she forced herself to swallow past the dryness in her throat. She shouldn’t be staring, shouldn’t be feeling the things she was feeling. But there was no denying the unfamiliar twinge low in her stomach, the way her fingers tightened slightly around her water bottle.

This wasn’t her. She wasn’t the type to get distracted like this, wasn’t the type to let her mind wander into... that territory. Her days were filled with classes, study sessions, and carefully maintained schedules. Boys—especially boys like Ran—weren’t part of the equation.

She had heard enough whispers about him to know what kind of guy he was. The charming playboy. The one who always knew exactly what to say to leave a girl flustered, who never stuck around long enough for anything serious. And yet, she couldn’t deny the pull he had on her. The sly grins, the playful remarks, the way his eyes seemed to linger just a little too long whenever they talked—he was magnetic. And right now, watching him like this, her feelings were shifting into territory she wasn’t prepared for.

Her chest rose and fell more quickly than it should have as a rush of guilt hit her. This wasn’t right. She felt as though she was peeking into something private, something meant to be hidden. But at the same time, she couldn’t shake the longing simmering just beneath the surface, a quiet yearning she didn’t know what to do with.

Her friends wouldn’t have hesitated. They would’ve gone right up to him, batted their lashes, and said something witty or bold. They wouldn’t have stood there like a deer caught in headlights, frozen between propriety and desire. She thought of them now, with their easy laughter and casual confidence. For the first time, she envied them. Envy tinged with frustration and pure jealousy.

She had no idea how long she had been standing there, staring at him. But it was long enough to see him finish his last pull-up in the set, his muscles taut with strain, before he finally dropped to the ground in one fluid motion.

And then it happened. He turned his head.

Their eyes met.

Her heart jumped into her throat, and she froze as his gaze locked on her. His expression shifted from neutral concentration to something lighter—amused, curious. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a small towel, slinging it over his shoulder as he started walking towards her.

Panic flared in her chest. She should move, say something, do something?! Even if she had wanted to her body wouldn’t cooperate. Her grip on the water bottle tightened, and her mind scrambled for a plausible explanation for why she’d been standing there, gawking at him like he was a display in a luxury jewelry store.

“Didn’t know you came up here,” Ran stated, his voice low, smooth, and perfectly casual as he closed the distance between them. “Figured you’d be holed up in the library like usual.”

The sound of his voice jolted her from her trance, but not entirely. She blinked rapidly, her lips pressing together in an effort to stay composed, but it was futile. The closer he got, the more overwhelmed she felt.

“I-I was just...” Her voice faltered as she tightened her grip on the water bottle. “The-the water fountain. I was getting water. The one downstairs is broken.”

Ran raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. “Ah, lucky me, then.”

She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. The way he was looking at her—like she was the only person in the gym—made her heart race and her palms sweat. It didn’t help that he was standing so close now, close enough for her to see the painfully sensual sheen of sweat on his skin, the sharp definition of his collarbone, the way his tattoo seemed to ripple with every movement.

Her mind was a chaotic mess of thoughts, none of which were appropriate. She shouldn’t be looking at him like this. She shouldn’t be imagining what it would feel like to run her fingers along the lines of his tattoo, to trace the patterns from his shoulder down his ribs. She shouldn’t be noticing the faint curve of his lower abs or the way his athletic shorts hung just low enough to make her shiver with lust.

But she was. And it was mortifying.

“Hey,” Ran called out, his tone softening slightly, though his smirk remained firmly in place. “You okay? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Her gaze snapped back to his face, and she shook her head quickly. “Oh, yeah! I'm good.” The words tumbled out too fast, and she winced inwardly at how unconvincing she sounded.

“You're good, huh?” He teased, leaning slightly closer. “You sure about that? You look a little...distracted.”

“I’m not,” She blurted, her voice too loud for the quiet gym. She cringed, lowering her eyes to the floor as she clutched her bottle so tightly her knuckles turned white. “I mean, I’m not distracted. I just—”

Ran chuckled, the sound warm and low, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. “Relax,” He said, his voice dripping with amusement. “I’m just messing with you.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying her. Her usual self-control was nowhere to be found, replaced by a flustered vulnerability that he found utterly captivating. She was stammering, her gaze flickering everywhere but his face, as though she couldn’t decide where to look without embarrassing herself further.

He decided to push a little harder.

“You doing anything later?” He asked, his tone casual, as if the answer didn’t matter—though it absolutely did.

Her heart stopped, then started again in a frantic rhythm. She blinked at him, caught completely off guard. “What?”

“I said,” Ran repeated, his smirk widening, “Are you doing anything later? Because I’m free tonight, and I figured if you’re not busy with your usual school stuff, we could hang out.”

Her breath hitched. He couldn’t be serious. Could he? Her mind raced, running through all the reasons why this was a terrible idea. But as much as she wanted to say no, the quiet, rebellious part of her—the part that had been simmering since she first met him—wanted to say yes.

“Oh. I-I…,” She inwardly scolds herself for stuttering so badly, “I mean, I have some work to do, so—”

“You can spare a couple hours,” Ran interrupted smoothly, stepping just a little closer. His proximity made her chest tighten, her eyes instinctively darting back to his tattoo before she forced them away. “Unless you don’t want to?”

The challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and she felt her resolve waver. She did want to. That was the problem.

Her fingers fidgeted with the cap of her water bottle as she hesitated, her thoughts a tangled mess of nervous excitement and guilt. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move, and it only made it harder to think clearly.

“Okay,” She said finally, her voice soft and unsure. She glanced up at him, her cheeks burning as she added, “What did you have in mind?”

Ran’s smirk softened into something more genuine, but no less mischievous. “Something chill,” He said with a casual shrug. “If you’re more comfortable, I could come to your place. We’ll keep it easy.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her stomach flipping at the suggestion. She nodded quickly, unable to trust her voice, and hoped he couldn’t tell how nervous she was.

“Good,” He said, his voice low and smooth, sending another shiver down her spine. “I’ll see you later, then.”

He turned to leave, but not before giving her one last lingering look. The intensity in his eyes made her knees weak, and she could barely manage a quiet “Bye” in response.

She stood there for a long moment after he walked away, her pulse still racing, her cheeks still warm. She felt like she had just stepped off a rollercoaster, her thoughts swirling in a dizzying mix of exhilaration and nervousness.

Her water bottle remained empty, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. All she could think about was the night ahead—and the fact that she had just said yes to Ran.

Her room felt smaller with him in it. The warm light from her lamp cast shadows across the walls, and the faint lavender scent that always soothed her now seemed to press against her chest. She barely registered Ran’s gaze as he sat on the edge of her bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his posture both relaxed and commanding.

She hadn’t sat down. Couldn’t. Instead, she stood between his legs, holding herself stiffly, clutching her hands in front of her. “You can sit anywhere,” she’d said, her voice barely steady.

His smirk deepened, the kind of knowing curve that made her stomach flip. He leaned back slightly, one brow raising. “I already picked a spot. You should do the same.”

She blinked, swallowing hard, her cheeks warm as she fumbled for words. “II-I mean—I meant, I'll sit in a second.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and deep in his chest. “You don’t have people over much, do you?”

Her blush burned brighter as her eyes darted away. “I do,” She mumbled. “It’s just...it's been a while.”

“That much is obvious,” He teased, his voice like velvet.

She was going to say something, but completely forgot how to even breathe properly as she glanced at him. His gaze was magnetic, dark and intense, pulling her in and holding her there. The way he looked at her wasn’t fair—not the way his eyes softened but his smirk remained sharp. Not the way they flickered briefly down to her lips, lingering for a beat too long before dragging back up to meet her gaze.

Her knees felt weak. She glanced down, desperate for an escape from the weight of his stare.

“Come here,” He said softly, startling her out of her thoughts. He reached out, his hand resting lightly on her wrist, and gave her a gentle tug. She didn’t resist. She moved closer, letting herself be guided until she was standing directly between his long legs.

“There,” he said, his smirk returning. “That’s better.”

She laughed nervously, her eyes once again everywhere but on his.

They fall into a silence yet again, the lack of sound almost deafening in her eyes. It was too loud, the silence, it gave too much space for her mind to drift off somewhere dangerous.

Ran took her hands and placed them on his shoulders, his skin warm through the fabric of his shirt.

Her heart pounded in her chest as her fingers brushed the curve of his collarbone, though she tried to keep her voice steady. “Ran—”

She wasn't sure if it was herself of Ran that had cut her off, the intensity of his gaze freezing her words before they could leave her lips.

It was so loud. Too loud.

The unwavering fire in his eyes as he stared up at her made her heart leap for the thousandth time. They spoke such volumes that words couldn't have been able to articulate accurately enough.

Her breath caught as he pulled her closer, his grip steady on her waist. The space between them grew smaller and smaller, suffocatingly smaller, and every nerve in her body felt like it was on fire.

“Ran,” She tried again, but her voice broke on the syllable.

“Hmm?” He asked, his voice low and teasing, his eyes never leaving hers.

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her thoughts were spinning too fast, tangled between the firm pressure of his hands and the steady pull of his gaze. She felt his fingers flex against her waist, drawing her in even closer.

His hands cascaded down her body, leave a trail of electricity, before pulling her into his lap. He positioned her, using the back of her knees to place her legs on either side of him.

She froze, keeping herself stable by using his shoulders.

Neither of them said a word. His hands rested lightly on her hips, holding her there as though they had always belonged. Her breath came in short, uneven bursts, and she felt the heat of his touch radiating through her, making her head spin. She tried to focus, to gather her thoughts, but it was impossible under the weight of his gaze.

Ran’s eyes flickered down to her lips briefly, then back up to meet hers. The silent tension between them was almost unbearable, a taut wire threatening to snap. She swallowed hard, her fingers flexing against his shoulders as if to ground herself.

Then, almost without thinking, her hands began to move.

She started slow, hesitant, her palms trailing down from his shoulders to his chest. Her touch was light, almost experimental, as if testing what she could get away with. She could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips, the way his muscles tensed slightly under her touch. Her gaze flicked up to his face, searching for any sign of resistance, but he didn’t stop her.

If anything, he encouraged her.

Ran’s dark eyes followed her every movement, sharp and intent, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. He didn’t say a word, but the way he looked at her—hungry, patient, expectant—made her pulse thunder in her ears.

Her hands continued downward, over the ridges of his torso, the fabric of his shirt doing little to mask the firm lines beneath. Her fingertips brushed the hem of his shirt, and she hesitated, her breath catching in her throat.

He cupped her cheek with one hand, his thumb brushing lightly over her flushed skin. The other hand slid around her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

Her lips parted, her breath shaky as her hands stilled against his chest. She could feel the strength in his hold, the unspoken promise in the way he touched her—a promise of more to soon come.

And when he finally kissed her, it wasn’t soft.

It was fiery, consuming, a kiss that left no room for doubt or hesitation. His lips moved against hers with a fervor that made her head spin, his hand tilting her face just enough to deepen the angle. She melted into him, her hands sliding instinctively back up to his shoulders, clinging to him as though he were the only thing keeping her grounded.

The world faded around her, her senses narrowing to him—the heat of his body, the roughness of his hands, the way he kissed her like he had been waiting for this moment his entire life. Her mind went fuzzy, her thoughts dissolving into nothing but the sensation of his mouth on hers, the way he tasted, the way he made her feel.

Her fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt as she kissed him back, her own movements growing bolder, more certain. His hand on her back pressed her closer, as though he couldn’t get enough of her, as though he wanted to pull her into him completely.

And she felt just the same.

Ran pulled away, and before she could even begin to wonder why, he plops her onto the bed beside him. He turned around, climbing on top of her like a prowling tiger.

They both knew where this was going, where it was always going to go between them. So at this point, she didn't bother to hide her desire, her deep rooted lust.

They struggle to maintain their open mouthed kiss while taking off each other's clothes, every movement as if they're somehow running out of time.

He didn't even allow her a moment to try and cover herself in embarrassment, let the usual coyness kick back in. His mouth and hands were already hard at work, kissing all over her neck and chest, his hands cupping and squeezing at her soft breasts.

He loved the way her chest rose and fell, harder and harder the more he touched and licked at her skin. He worked his way down her body, all the way down until he's kissing between her plush thighs.

His hands stroked and worshipped each leg, spreading them open by the back of her knees to make room for his face.

“R-Ran, wait!" She muttered, barely above a whisper. He ignored her, already understanding her protest to be her shyness talking.

His eyes found hers, gazing intently just to see her face contort into pleasure as his tongue gently kitten licks between her folds before slowly circling her pearly clit.

“Ohhh!" She cried out breathlessly. Her legs attempted to close, fighting against his strong grip under her knees, holding her spread for him to eat her out uninterrupted.

“Ughh.” She whimpered softly, obviously trying to keep her moans down. He wasn't having that though. He was determined to make her cry for him, make her scream. His tongue prodded at her little hole, before diving straight inside, in and out.

He ate her out sloppily and slowly—messily, moaning against her pussy as his tongue worked her to her first orgasm. He could feel her legs trembling, feel her grip onto his tresses as she arches her back. She was going to cum already, and he couldn't wait to taste her.

“Raaaan! Rannieee!” She cried out between pants, struggling to keep her body under control along with her pretty moans.

She squeezed her eyes closed, her body tensed up as she finally releasing on his tongue. He didn't waste a single drop, lapping up at her hole to catch it all. As she came down from her high he didn't bother to stop, continuing to suck and kiss her clit, and press his tongue inside her walls.

She couldn't hold herself back anymore, her hands pull and grip on his hair roughly, her brows knitted together in ecstasy.

“I-I can't! I'm cumming again!” She whimpered cutely, trembling worse than her previous orgasm. He moaned softly against her clit, the sound low and approving, sending a thrill down her spine. She climaxed once again, her body taut from the intensity of her release. He allowed her to ride it out, gently slowing to a stop before letting go of her legs, licking his lips as he'd just had a satisfying meal.

“You taste so good. Just as good as you look, Princess." He cooed, reveling in the flattered little laugh she let out in response.

He climbed over her, leaning down onto his elbows as he dove in for another kiss, tasting herself on his lips. She was too lost, too high off her orgasms and the kiss to notice him reach between them and angle himself with her dripping entrance. She gasped as his tip presses inside her, forcing her walls to stretch and accommodate his length. He couldn't help the drawn out moan that breaks past his lips, vibrating against hers as he finally bottoms out deep inside.

She felt even better than he'd been imagining this whole time. His fantasies and wet dreams couldn't compare to the real thing. Her walls gripped him so tightly, as if determined to lock him in place inside her forever. Her pussy was so overwhelmingly pleasurable.

He tongued her mouth, catching every moan and whimper while he strokes her walls. Her small hands barely manage to wrap around his biceps, but they try, her nails starting to dig into his skin.

She cried out to him, struggling to get her point across between kisses and pitifully loud moans of pleasure. “Mmmm! S-so....so good! Don't stop!”

Ran, motivated by her plea, begins pounding into her, picking up the pace. He pulled away from the kiss, his hands gripped her legs and folding her in half in pursuit of a better angle.

“Ugh, ugh yes! Right there, right there!” She moaned, throwing her back against the pillows.

“Right here, baby?” He teased, his hard dick kissing against her sweet spot, again and again. He felt her body trembling once again, only partially contained by his hands keeping her still.

She twitched and cried out uncontrollably, her moans and pleas no longer coherent. He had her right where he wanted her, fucked so good she turns into a babbling mess, begging and whining for nothing in particular.

He felt her orgasm ripple through her body violently, coating his dick with her cum as he continued pounding into her. She didn't come down from her high, he kept the momentum going, force feeding another orgasm right after the next.

“There you go, baby. Keep makin' a mess on my dick.”

Her trembling hands pressed against his abs, a weak attempt to slow him down. She'd already become overstimulated, pushed past her limit, but he doesn't care.

He wouldn't stop till he cums all over her pretty stomach.

She moaned his name over and over again, tears forming then cascading down her cheeks as he ravages her. She came once again, and another time back to back. She'd never felt so amazing before, so utterly taken care of and satisfied by a man. This was the best sex she'd ever had.

“Rannie, please...c-cum.” He felt his dick twitch as she starts begging and pleading for him to finally cum, unable to handle another world shattering orgasm. He looked down at her, the way her teary eyes silently begged him, the way her hands touched his stomach, her moans that blended with the erotic sounds of her sloppy, wet pussy as he fucked into her. He felt himself going to cum soon.

He coaxed another orgasm from her, causing her to whine loudly, her hands desperately attempting to throw off his rhythm.

He gave her three, four more strokes before he pulls out, cumming onto her stomach with a long, drawn out moan of satisfaction. She huffed, her body struggling to aid her in catching her breath.

Ran plopped down on the bed next to her, his chest rising and falling heavily as he comes down from his own high.

They laid in silence for a short while, before she finally spoke, “That was so good.”

Her tone was breathless, with a tinge of shyness, already making it's way back to the forefront.

“Yeah, it was. You're pussy's so good we might have to go for another round.” He mused, though his lilac eyes held a seriousness that left her no room for questioning.

“I...don't think I'd mind that.”

#strawberryfairi🧚🏾‍♀️#tokyo rev #ran haitani #haintani ran #ran haitani x reader smut #ran haitani smut #ran haitani x fem reader smut #ran x you #black female reader #smutty fic #playboy ran haitani #spicy reads #ran haitani x reader #this had my temperature through the roof #omg he's not my favorite but I kinda need him after this #Haitani Ran smut

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marchofmistria · 13 hours ago

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Hello! I love your headcanons and writing a lot! Thanks for the food

If possible, I'll like to request some headcanons for Balor and a reader that has a pretty obvious crush on him.

Thanks in advance! <3

Hey there, thank you for sending! :)

Balor is not unaccustomed to flirting. He's a handsome man, well-traveled, and a purveyor of expensive goods. He's met many people, so to speak.

But something about your particular attention to him really makes him flustered. And that fact alone scares him.

He does a lot of self-analysis to try and understand what about you makes you special to him, and why your flirting makes his heart race. He's met many attractive people in his life, sure, but you're so much more than just another pretty face to him.

From the first moment he met you on your entrance into Mistria, and he held your hand as you jumped over the broken bridge into the small village, he couldn't get you out of his mind.

From his first impression, you were definitely beautiful. As he got to know you more, he saw you as particularly clever and helpful with his business. You understood him and his line of work.

He's not sure, maybe it has to do with the fact that he's grown surprisingly attached to this village. But he suspects you play no small role in that feeling.

He can tell you like him too. Each day, you make a point to stop by his cart and chat with him. At first, it's mostly about business. But as time passes, you make an effort to learn more about the mysterious merchant and remember each detail of each story he tells you.

He really starts to feel your affections towards him each time you take effort to bring him a beautiful gem or rare archeological find. At first he thanks you, saying it'll be a good sell in the Capital.

But then you emphasize that it's for him, not to be sold. You know that, aside from his work, he truly appreciates the beauty and rarity of such things. He's touched by the thought you put into it.

Even more so when you remember his brief mention of his favorite food, curry, and make an effort to bring it to him as often as possible.

He knew that he loved you on the day you invited him over to the farm for dinner. You told him that you and Reina had worked together on a new curry recipe, and hoped that he liked it.

While you may have tried to brush off any hints suggesting that this was made for him, claiming that you and Reina were simply practicing cooking, he could tell that you didn't offer this meal to him thoughtlessly.

It's the most delicious and comforting thing he'd remembered having since his childhood. Comforting food like this was hard to come by when you lived your life on the road.

Charming and charismatic as he is, he finds it truly difficult to express in words what this gesture meant to him. Really, what all of these thoughtful and kind gestures mean to him.

He begins to associate you with the feeling of home. He hasn't known that feeling in a while.

He goes to great lengths to try and repay you for your kindness. He knows that he's already gained your affection and doesn't need to try to win you over, but he wants to give you even a small piece of the feeling you've given him.

He first brings you rare and expensive gifts he comes into possession of over the course of his travels outside of Mistria. Some of these things, you know well, he could have easily sold for a pretty penny in the Capital. But he chooses to give them to you.

As he gets to know you more, he moves away from gifts he knows would be liked by anyone to gifts specific to your interests and tastes.

He knows how carefully you listen to all his stories, and makes great effort to do the same for you. He even goes so far as to keep notes of the things you've mentioned you liked. He'll bring them for you any chance he gets.

His favorite thing in the world is spending late nights with you at the Inn, swapping stories and laughs well into the night. He feels like he can talk to you forever, and it feels wonderful to have a caring someone to share his thoughts and feelings with.

Another thing he needs to get used to is the trouble he has flirting with you at first. Although you unabashedly like Balor and don't try to hide it, Balor has to fight through some embarrassment to show his feelings back. Something he's not used to.

This is a shock to a man whose whole life was spent charming everyone he meets. He's never been a stranger to grand displays of affection, but with you he takes a different approach. With you, he wants to cultivate intimacy.

He gets shy when you clearly indicate how much you like him, but always wants you to know that the feeling is mutual and he wants your relationship to progress further.

Because of this, it doesn't take long at all for you two to become an official couple. Even long into your relationship, when Balor has vowed to make Mistria (and you specifically) his permanent home, he never stops making sure you feel loved by him. He tells you and shows you every single day.

#my writing #fields of mistria #fom #balor #fields of mistria balor #fom balor #balor x reader #balor x farmer #fields of mistria balor x reader #fields of mistria balor x farmer #fom balor x reader #fom balor x farmer

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bookie-bookdust · 3 days ago

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Sebastian Sallow Headcanons

Shitty attempt at headcanons for my morally gray, stubborn Sebby boy in Sebastian Sallow Fucking Sucks. It's long for literally no reason besides I don't know how to shut up.

My Seb has gone through it. He suffers - but he also deserves it for that whole "ignorant" outburst days after what happened in the Restricted Section on the night of the Yule Ball. So yeah, he's begging for forgiveness by the end when he realizes how torn he and MC's relationship has become - not without stubbornly trying to get under her skin first.

This idiot constantly wears tight clothes - not because he knows it drives MC insane, though if he noticed, it would get much much worse for her lol- but it's because he's so damn messy he grabs the first clean thing he can find in the morning (slutty little vests, tight sweaters, button downs with stressing buttons - RIP MC).

Reading glasses - enough said.

He's an extremely adept magic wielder. Not only can he cast multiple Unforgivables with shorter cooldowns, but his spells are obscenely strong. MC has not been able to beat him in a duel since that very first time.

That being said, he can't cast a patronus because he's a sad emo boy.

Fav spell: Confringo. Secret fav spell: Imperio.

It's not with the times, but he would definitely listen to metal music. You can't convince me otherwise.

The morally gray/dark wizard line is sooooo veryyyyyy thinnnnnnnn and will get worse.

He doesn't trust aurors and would NEVER BECOME ONE!!!!!!!! Why do ya’ll want him to be a cop so bad??? (Unless he's a dirty cop lol)

Career-wise, he'd be a curse breaker, healer, or a dark wizard 😌

Irrevocably dedicated to the ones he loves, and if he feels its dire enough, he will hurt them to protect them. Trust me on this - for no reason in particular😇

Not opposed to getting on his knees and begging hehehehe...

A skilled healer due to countless hours in the library studying up on a cure for Anne.

Has burned his fingerprints off with too many fire spells. And speaking of his fingers, it's common to spot him with ink staining his skin from all his note taking.

While he's charming and cocky, he sees himself as lesser, dispensable, and directly blames himself for all of his life tragedies.

Anger issues - duh.

Not sure if I'll even get into this in SSFS, but my Seb comes from a family of the Dark Arts - whether he's aware of it or not. We already know Solomon used them. I'd like to think his parents did as well, which is what led to their deaths. The Sallow line is cursed as fuck. Will be exploring this more in a future Dark Seb project where he has to break this curse.

Will make dick jokes. No one is safe.

While he'd make a great beater in Quidditch, his life just doesn't have space for trivial things. He's too busy with murder.

Speaking of body count LOL, he's charmed quite a few witches, but no one has shorted his brain quite like MC. He's intently studied some interesting books in the Restricted Section fantasizing testing out some things.

Idk when his birthday is lol. I'm just agreeing with everyone else.

Seb's relationship with Ominis is interesting....I'll be perfectly honest, I'm not sure if their friendship is going to survive in my world. Seb crosses too many lines. Obliviating your best friend really drives a wedge between you.

THE manipulator. We don't get to see too much of this in SSFS because we're in MC's pov. Particularly because he uses his wiles differently on her. But one of my favorite examples is even as he's mocking her for her poor attempt at lying in the broom closet, he's actively making her anxious (and hot and bothered lol) with that little thread on her sweater. And eventually she slips up. He's such a mother fucker lol.

Okay this post is way too long. I'm gonna leave now lol. BYEEEEE.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy headcanon #sebastian sallow headcanon #hogwarts legacy fanfic #I'm more than aware most of these are common lol #I'm doing my best ok I'm lazy and don't like developing things lol

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fanfictionstuff · 2 days ago

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Amaimon X Student 12

So, i'm mostly done writing the Amaimon x Exorcist chapter 3 but this idea came to me and I couldn't let it go. 🫢

When Shiemi assures you, that yes, Rin deleted the photo, she is sure of it. You open your photo app once again. “Wait, it’s actually cute.” You comment, gazing at the photo. “Okay, it’s really cute.” You grin.

Izumo scoffs. “It’s gross _____.

Paku leans closer to you to get another look. “It is kind of cute.”

“Right?” You grin.

Izumo glares at the two of you. “It’s not cute at all, and you would think differently if you saw what we saw on the camping trip.” She tells Paku.

You huff, “I was on the camping trip; it’s cute.”

“And clearly, you’ve got a screw loose.” You pout at her words but don’t argue against it.

After the four of you finish, you go your separate ways. Shiemi and you head to your apartment while Paku and Izumo head in different directions. The walk to your apartment is quiet, and Shiemi seems really nervous throughout. Once you arrive, you gently nudge her inside, “Okay, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said anything, I just didn’t realize you didn’t know, and I said it in front of other people.” She looks like she’s going to start crying, so you quickly wrap your arms around her. “No, no. Shiemi, it’s okay. Izumo and Paku are some of our closest friends, right? It’s okay. I’m just glad you told me.” She nods against your shoulder as she hugs you back.

“…._____?”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t really put his…thing…in your mouth, right?”

“….”

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

Amaimon cautiously steps into Mephisto’s office. The king of time had sounded odd over the phone when he requested that Amaimon come for a brief chat.

“Oh, I'm glad you’re here. Please, take a seat and enjoy some tea. We need to have a brief chat about Miss ____.” He gestures to the chair opposite his desk as he speaks to Amaimon. Said demon glances at the chair and then back at Mephisto before calmly sitting down.

“Tell me, what do you know about Miss _____?”

“…”

Mephisto nodded. “I suspected as much. She comes from a long line of exorcists, a lineage typically marked by great power. For centuries, they have served the order tirelessly.” He observed Amaimon cautiously, and as expected, there was no sign of reaction. “Unfortunately, many of them were wiped out during the Blue Night, particularly the younger generation. Miss ______ is the last one left to carry on the bloodline unless her parents have another child, though honestly, that seems unlikely.” Still, Amaimon remained unfazed. “Her parents are exceptionally strict; I’m unsure how she managed to convince them to let her stay at True Cross to graduate. Regardless, since she’s the last of her bloodline and her family is so demanding, they are already searching for suitors for her. They want her to marry and start a family soon after graduation. I’ve heard she has developed a bit of a crush on you.” Once more, there was no response from Amaimon. “Stay away from _____; I had thought you were merely trying to provoke Rin. I wasn’t aware you had become intimate with her.”

Amaimon opens his mouth, looking for a moment like he might argue with Mephisto, but then he nods. “Okay.”

Mephisto raises a brow, surprised Amaimon agreed so quickly. I suppose he’s not as interested in her as he made it seem to Rin; good, it’s less of a headache for me. “You may leave.”

As Amaimon leaves Mephisto’s office, thoughts of you and another man begin to fester in his mind, fueling his anger with each step. No other man should be able to kiss you, hold you, or be intimate with you. No other man should ever hear the sounds you make; or have the privilege of tasting you, and no other man should know what it feels like to have your mouth around their cock. You belong to Amaimon. You’re his pet.

His anger quickly escalates into rage as he heads to your apartment without hesitation.

You jump when there is a loud knock on your door; confused, you pull away from Shiemi. “Coming.” You’re surprised to see Amaimon standing in the doorway when you open it, but what’s more surprising is the emotions on his face; the normally unbothered demon king is now furious. Almost on the same level as you saw the night he attacked Rin on the camping trip. “Uh, come in?” Despite your common sense telling you otherwise, you step away and welcome the demon into your home. He steps into the house and quickly heads to your bedroom. Where he’s aware you keep documents. “Shiemi, you should leave.”

“But-“

“It’s okay. Look, if I don’t text you within an hour, feel free to call someone to check on me, alright? I promise I’ll be fine.” It’s not a promise you should be making, but you’re eager to find out what’s bothering Amaimon. You can hear him going through various drawers in your bedroom. “Actually, I’ll call you since someone tends to text from my phone. So, if I call you, you can be sure it’s really me, right?” Gradually, she nods, allowing you to guide the blonde out of your apartment.

As you enter your bedroom, you find Amaimon sitting on the edge of the bed, casually flipping through a stack of documents. It’s evident he has uncovered what he was looking for. A frown crosses your face as you move closer, slowly realizing what he has discovered. “Did Mephisto tell you? I haven’t even shared it with Shiemi or Rin, and they’re two of my closest friends.” You let out a sigh; it’s a topic you prefer to ignore, preferring to live in a world where this isn’t your reality. It’s easy to pretend until another file arrives in your mail every few weeks.

“My parents didn’t have a choice; they were matched up and told that if they didn’t like it, too bad – they needed to have a child. Fortunately, they fell in love, which is quite rare in my family. However, having witnessed what their own parents and other family members endured emotionally, they didn’t want to put me through that. They’re offering me a choice among the potential suitors they’re finding. I can even go on dates with them before making my final decision. There are a couple that my grandparents have selected.” You pick up a file from the bed and show him a photo of a gross-looking man twenty years older than you. “Luckily, my parents are trying to find me someone I’ll at least be attracted to; as you can see, my grandparents couldn’t care less if I’m attracted to them or not.” You toss the file in the trash can beside your bed. “Why did Mephisto tell you?”

“Rin Okumura showed Big Brother the photo I sent him. He told me I need to stop bothering you, and why.”

“Oh.”

Amaimon carelessly tosses the files from his hands onto the floor. “I don’t like to share,” he declares, stepping on a few of the fallen papers as he exits, slamming the front door behind him.

You sigh, bending down to pick up the strewn documents. “I guess that’s the end of that. I was hoping to live in my fantasy a bit longer.” You had been trying to ignore all the files, but now you realize it’s time you have to accept it. Carefully, you start to scan through the documents and photos. Most of them end up in the trash, as you discard them without bothering to read beyond their names and ages. You had initially set aside a couple of options to discuss with your parents, but now they’ve become mixed up with all the others. Upon revisiting them, you find yourself less interested. How can you be interested after experiencing perfection? “No. Stop _____. It’s time to grow up. They want me to be at least engaged within a year of graduating.”

Unlocking your phone, you take a photo of the files you had originally been slightly interested in discussing with your parents.

Hey, Mom, I’ve been thinking about picking a husband. What do you think of these three?

After sending the text, you give Shiemi a quick call to reassure her that you’re okay and not to worry. You rush to end the call and toss the phone across the room. Your eyes flicker to the files you’ve selected once again. “I hate this.” you groan, hurling them across the room as well.

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Your mother doesn’t reply until the next day, and it’s a call instead of a text. When you receive the call, you’re sitting with your friends for lunch.

“Hey, sweetheart, how are you?”

You lean against Shiemi as you answer. You really don’t want to talk about your potential future husband now, and you haven’t even told your friends yet. “Fine, I’m just having lunch. What’s up?”

“Oh, I’m calling regarding the message you sent. I’m pleased to hear that you’re finally considering it, but I have some unfortunate news.” Her voice carries a hint of detachment. “It’s about Hano-san.” She pauses, letting out a sigh. “Sadly, he passed away last night.”

You straighten, having trouble processing her words. “Huh?”

“Yes, it was a demon attack, but there aren’t any details. Nobody knows what demon it was; the only signs it was a demon were that he was found with his weapons drawn.”

Oh fuck.

#ao no exorcist #blue exorcist #blue exorcist x reader #amaimon #blue exorcist fanfiction #amaimon x reader #amaimon x oc #amaimon ao no exorcist #amaimon blue exorcist

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