#you'll be the first to know when i have something
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✏️ scared freshmen chan x reader.
prompt: "helping a scared freshman despite also being a scared freshman." ✶ part of my svt university milestone event
⤿ fluff, cute & clingy!chan, slice-of-life. more content under the cut. ♡⸝⸝ prompt from @wollycobbl3-blr!
dino's declassified uni survival guide .ᐟ
survival guide to: making friends
attend the freshman year orientation event, no matter how lame you think it may be. sit through the whole thing. make small talk with your seatmate. when they assign you a 'buddy', jump at the chance of morally obligated friendship.
fuck trying to be cool and chill. 'be yourself' is painfully cliche advice, but they were on to something. what's the point of trying to act nonchalant or putting your best foot forward? be yourself, and you'll find the people who can appreciate that.
go to the school events. recruitment week? check. pep rally? check. going alone is alright. going with your orientation-sanctioned friend is preferable. the two of you can sit through the whole thing judging other students and making comments about the performances. maybe you can make more friends by chatting up the other students around you, but, honestly? each other is plenty fine.
survival guide to: getting around
have a copy of the school map saved on your phone. keep it in your favorites folder. that way, you don't have to stop at those blown-up maps at every corner or so.
test out the advice of your peers. sometimes, their advice is just a little more reliable— they're coming from places of experience, after all. take, for example, the recommendations from your orientation buddy. take their suggestions to heart. the cafeteria they think is best, the coffee order they swear by. very serious business.
you'll eventually get a little more familiar with the ins and outs of campus. you'll carve out your own spaces and make your own set of friends. if some people eventually fall out with you, that's fine. if you still take a wrong turn every so often, that's fine, too. keep in touch with the people that you really do like. and don't panic about getting lost. sometimes, taking the wrong turn can lead to some pretty exciting stuff.
survival guide to: ... falling in love?
the turn of feeling something for your first friend at uni isn't exactly what i was referring to, but it is what it is. my initial advice still stands: come as you are. if you've always been a little annoying, if you don't know how to shut up and you're shameless in your affections, then keep that up. why be someone who you're not? what if they fall in love with that charade instead of who you really are?
some differences may be warranted, especially if you want to progress the relationship further. friends to lovers is a little complicated; the lines, tending to blur. flirt. or: attempt to flirt. remind them of how attractive you are. find ways to be around them, whether it's heading out for a beer or 'running' into them after their last class of the day. gifts are okay, but don't overdo it. maybe find some occasion for it, in case they ask why.
it's terrifying. being a freshman. making friends. falling in love [with a friend]. and yet i keep going back to yet another cliché: just because you feel fear, doesn't mean you can't do it. do it afraid. do it scared shitless. walk them home. give them the flowers. package the confession in a joke, if you must, but confess. put your heart in their hands and trust that it will be safe, there. that the gamble will pay off. that you— maybe, just maybe— will be loved right back.
survival guide to: dating
tba. i'm still figuring this one out. :-)
written by lee chan (2024).
#dino x reader#dino smau#dino fluff#lee chan x reader#svt smau#seventeen smau#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#svt imagines#── ᵎᵎ ✦ mine#── ᵎᵎ ✦ milestone event: svt uni#[ he's just a guy :) my guy :) ]#[ the hc format gives out too much of my age i Fear ]#[ also i forgot svt uni was the whole Thing. so i've ripped right off yonsei ]#[ let's close our eyes to that shall we.......... ]
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꩜ DATING MR. CRAWLING .ᐟ
SFW GN!Reader HCS after the blissful love life ending.
Italics is in the other world’s language! Sometimes more the implied message rather than a direct translation. I'll probably do Mr. Hood later too :3 !
Your bed is much more comfortable than anything in the other world, and it only makes it better that mr. Crawling gets to be in it with you. He grows accustomed to your nightly routine and is always excited to cuddle up. Big spoon, little spoon, facing each other—all of it makes him as happy as can be!
(^ As someone who still has a twin size, some of us have to invest in a much bigger one lol)
Generally so so affectionate and loves when you’re physically affectionate !! You can kiss his head and he’ll giggle, maybe point at his face and ask “Again!” You leave kisses all over his face, and his hands pull you in close when you finally kiss his lips.
One of Mr. Crawling's strongest traits is his patience—especially when it comes to you. The first day you come home without him trailing behind (much to his dismay, and honestly yours), he’s at the door to greet you, smiling and giggling as you wrap your arms around him. You find out he hadn’t done much but wait for you to come home. (With no complaints of boredom on his part, and all the worry on yours.)
He'll sit as you play with his hair, trying out new hairstyles or putting in clips. “Me cute? Pretty?” he asks. And if you let him do the same in return, he'll giggle and compliment you too.
I think he’d look through your closet and enjoy watching you try on clothes too. He compliments you and feels each of the fabrics, liking the ones that feel softest. He might try on some of the accessories if none of the actual clothes (sort of…) fit, and is really happy when you match!
Mr. Crawling is a fast learner. You worry he'll feel overwhelmed with all the new technology and words and whatever else, so you focus on making sure he’s comfortable. But he points at things and ask what they are, repeating after you. “You teach me language?” he asks and you laugh softly before nodding. “I teach you language.”
He will accidentally touch a hot stove top or pot if you don't remember to warn him beforehand. Then whenever you cook he gets worried you'll hurt yourself, watching to make sure you're alright (forgive him if he pulls your hand away and says “Danger! Don't touch!”)
Since he doesn't know his birthday, you make the day you returned special instead! He's happy to just stay in with you, eating a good meal and watching or learning something new.
Mr. Crawling also learns when yours is and does his best to make it a good day for you too. He tries singing happy birthday and makes food with what you have at home, mimicking the meals he's seen you prepare.
You teach him how to call your phone while you're away. It's supposed to “be for emergencies,” but you both know he's going to call just to hear your voice, and who are you to complain?
I think he gets sad sometimes when he sees or hears you talking to friends—the way you communicate and laugh so easily compared to conversations with him. The other world's language itself is limited, and he hasn't learned enough of your own. You spend some evenings reassuring him, reminding him learning is a process, and it doesn't change your feelings!!
He does his best to learn on his own. You buy (exercise) books and show him shows for younger kids and he spends a lot of time alone with them, both to surprise you, and also just because he loves talking with you and wants to talk more and more.
The first time he speaks your language is a special day. After many days of calling out that you’re back, he decides to say it himself. “You home!” You almost drop everything in your hands, and that’s when he continues, “Miss you.” It feels odd hearing it in his voice, but he’s grinning so wide, and you won’t find out for a while just how excited and nervous he was waiting for you to get home.
One of Mr. Crawling’s favourite things to say and hear is “I love you.” Every time you say it, he gets all giddy and tries to get closer to you (as if that’s possible while already cuddling in bed). He says it a lot while you’re doing chores or really nothing, just to remind you and see you smile. There’s no way in his mind for those 3 words to lose their meaning, or become any less special.
#first post on here ! i tried not to make it too longhfjhgj i'm a little nervous omg#homicipher x reader#mr crawling x reader#homicipher fluff#mr crawling fluff#mr. crawling x reader#homicipher#thrfted#thrft it
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"#yes yes yes!!!! #and ngl it makes me want to read or engage with it more too!"
i hope it's ok to point out these tags bc this is SUCH a huge mood i think deserves a little more explanation!!!! (at least from my perspective as both a creator (writer) and fan (of artists))
i used to have a ton of anxiety when creating and especially sharing my works, and my impulse was always to talk down on it, because a) i* (*my anxiety) believed it to be bad, and b) because i had this idea in my head that if i lowered people's expectations, they wouldn't be as disappointed when reading it.
i want to tell you what i've learned in my years of both being a writer and being a fan of artists, and it's that this is a terrible, terrible anxiety fallacy (like so many ideas/misconceptions borne of anxiety are) that ONLY hurts you, your work, and your potential readers(/fans/etc). it SOUNDS like a good idea when you have really bad anxiety, i know, i used to DEPEND upon this idea just to have the courage to SHARE my writing—and i want to emphasize that it's OKAY if you've done this before, it's an easy, easy trap to fall into, but i also want you to try and stop doing it because there are a lot of reasons you would feel better and do better for doing so.
you are what you practice! if you only ever focus on or speak about the flaws in your art, you WILL feel negatively about your art. my very first therapist explained it in a way that still really resonates with me: you have created a well-beaten, highly trafficked "road" in your brain. it is very easy to take this road because even though it's longer to your destination, it winds and bends, it's walked on so much it's flat and easy to traverse. when you try to build a NEW path—in this case, a path where you focus on what you like about your art—you're starting with no path at all. it's all undergrowth and vines and thorns and it hurts and it's tiring and you feel like this will NEVER be easier or feel better than the old path. but you have to keep taking the new one. you have to beat down the undergrowth until it recedes, cut down the low-hanging branches until you can walk with your back straight, and if you keep at it, if you keep at this thing that feels so pointless and stupid and hard, eventually, the path will be clear, and easy to walk, and you'll make great time getting to your destination because it cuts straight through; no winding or bending. and the old path? it will overgrow, and it will become hard and stupid to take. you have to beat the new path because once it's beaten, it'll be the far superior path in every way, including ways the old path was never superior even when it WAS the one you were always taking.
further—as these tags point out, and as i agree with wholeheartedly—by disparaging your art, you DO lower people's expectations. people don't want to be sad, frustrated, disappointed when they look at art—at least, not unless the art itself is trying to tell a story about that. you get what i mean, i hope—they don't want to go INTO something they already HAVE negative reviews on—your reviews! you, the creator, have already told this person the story/art/whatever is going to be bad, and i know, i KNOW it's not your intention, you're hoping someone will see through what you can't and tell you no, no, this is good, i liked this! and some people do! but you make it a lot harder for them TO do that when you tell them right at the beginning, "this is going to be bad, i don't like it," because what you're unintentionally telling them is, "and you probably won't like it either." the first way i learned this was in people always saying in their fanfic summaries, before you even open the fic, "the summary is bad, i'm bad at writing summaries, the story is better trust me bro." because what this does—again, so unintentionally, i KNOW what you're trying to do because i've been you—is you're telling the reader, "here's my pitch, here's the hook to my entire story, it's the worst part, it's bad, but the rest will be better," and what they KNOW is they've already put the time in reading the summary, and it's hard to commit MORE time to something when you've already told them it's bad, even if you promise the rest is better. it's like biting into a fruit and you hate the taste of the skin; it's harder to try the rest of the fruit when, so far, it's been bad (or you've been made to believe it's bad).
so what's the solution? how do you begin beating that new path? well, it depends on you. everyone's a little different in how they navigate stuff like this. but what worked for me, and what might be a good place to start (and by all means adapt as you figure out what works and what doesn't), is start by just NOT saying anything negative. no, "i don't like this," or "the summary's bad, sorry," or anything. write your artist's comment, author's note, whatever as normal, and REMOVE anything that depicts your art/writing/etc in a bad light. just don't give people any opinion whatsoever on what experiencing your creation is going to be like. this, for me, was easier than jumping straight to, "i'm pretty proud of this," or "i enjoyed working on this," because it wasn't withholding AND replacing, it was JUST withholding. going back to the roads and paths metaphor, i think of this part as the "taking a breather before i get to work on this monumental task of beating this new path" stage.
then, overtime, i started "stretching" my positive comments about my works. if i liked, say, TWO LINES out of a whole piece of writing, i'd say, "i'm really proud of this work!" because i AM proud of ANYTHING AT ALL, NO MATTER HOW SMALL, within the work. it's not a LIE, to anyone including yourself, but it is, perhaps, an EXAGGERATION. that's OKAY. we're trying to teach our brain to look on the bright side, to take the new path, and i've found that treating it a little bit like a dog—giving it a treat for ANY TINY BIT OF PROGRESS, was a good way to encourage myself to start making MORE progress. ESPECIALLY because the tags i reposted above are RIGHT: LOTS of people are MORE interested in a work when their very first impression (YOUR impression!!!) is positive. 'the artist/writer/etc is proud of this? oh, i'm so glad they had a good time creating, let's take a look!" it probably sounds too easy if you're still taking that anxiety-beaten road, i know, but try to think of how you've felt when someone disparages their creations versus uplifts them. were you put off by the negativity? were you sad that your friend worked so hard on something and didn't even like it? conversely, doesn't it make you a little excited when an artist says they really feel good about something they made, especially in a world where so many artists ARE feeling inadequate? i hope you see what i mean.
it's not an overnight thing, of course, this took me YEARS. this took a miracle that doesn't happen to most people: i wrote something i felt SO TERRIFIED people wouldn't like, even though i was secretly very proud of it (but too scared to dare suggest i was proud of it), so i indicated all kinds of things like "i hope you like it, i dunno if it's any good, it's just a little thing i'm chipping away at in my spare time" (it was not, it was a full-blown passion project) and, against the odds, a LOT OF PEOPLE told me they really really really liked it. a couple of friends who were decently popular in the fandom it was for liked and shared it and i got A LOT of encouragement. i basically got to beat my new path with a HORDE of helpers, and it was more like THEY beat the path for me and i chased along like, "what is happening, oh my god, what are you doing???"
i got really lucky. that doesn't always, or even usually happen. in most other areas of my life, i've had to beat the path myself. and it takes a long time if you're doing it on your own. but you should anyway, because it's so fucking worth it dude. yeah, it was awesome to get so much help with my writing confidence specifically, but it's been just as worth it every time i've had to do it alone too. and i have good news! there ARE ways to tell people you're on this journey of making yourself a new path. here are some suggestions:
"i'm new/rusty at this, so please let me know what you think!" - informs potential readers/viewers/etc you are learning and gives them an opportunity to HELP you learn. this is a positive interaction! this allows people to find a GOOD experience EVEN if they didn't enjoy the story much, because they can help, and people DO, MOSTLY, like to help.
"i want to improve at [dialogue]" or "i'd appreciate advice on [lighting]." - similar to the first example, but does 2 things: gives viewers specific instructions that can be really helpful for those that aren't sure how/what to critique (surprisingly common thing; the more specific you are about what you want advice on, the more likely you are to GET advice), AND allows you to, neutrally and non-disparagingly, ask for help in areas you don't feel confident about.
"leave a comment if you liked it!" or "let me know what you liked best!" - listen. i don't think 'fishing for compliments' is bad as long as you're not being manipulative about it. these examples are very clear in what they're asking for, which is compliments, positive reviews, etc. and that's okay!!! first of all, lots of people LOVE praising works they like, i promise, and asking them to DOES make them feel like they have "permission" to (i know that sounds silly but i also know if you have anxiety about creating, you have anxiety about commenting, i see you, i was you). secondly, i have gotten the MOST encouraging, confidence-boosting comments this way, especially with the latter example. there is NOTHING more immediately anxiety-curing than a comment that says "i liked [scene/dialogue/character/etc] specifically." it's AMAZING. (also, if you're looking for advice on commenting, this is a GREAT thing to do. imo, this and "speculating/interpreting the work" are the two coolest comments i get they make me feel AWESOME.)
remind yourself, as many times as you have to, CONSTANTLY if you have to: likes/kudos mean someone enjoyed your work enough to press a button. views mean someone liked your work enough to click through for more. these are POSITIVE interactions, they are not "less positive" than comments or reblogs/reshares. i know those last two things are more obviously gratifying, and depending on if you NEED your work to spread (for exposure/commision prospects/etc), very good, awesome ways to support you, and i don't mean to say you shouldn't WANT comments and reblogs/reshares. but for me, it's helped me a lot to recognize that any bit of effort whatsoever means someone LIKED my work. it's also helped me to think of all the times i've shared a link to an artwork in a discord or something, and know that there is an entire, untangible metric i can't and will never see that, sure, i can choose to believe doesn't exist or isn't very high, but i can ALSO choose to believe it happens quite a lot, and the latter makes me FEEL better about my work and makes me want to create MORE, so i think that's the more productive mindset personally. it doesn't matter what the truth is, you know? we'll never know it and it doesn't harm us to never know it. but it DOES harm us to assume no one quietly, unseen by us, likes our work, and it DOES ENCOURAGE US to assume lots of people do.
here's the thing: anxiety disorders fuck you up by making you believe extremely negative, scary, depressing things. the disorder gets worse the more you allow it to make you believe these things, and the only way out, as stupid and hard and at times impossible as it feels, is to say, "no, i don't like that interpretation, i'm going to replace it with a positive one." anxiety is making paths all throughout your brain, and you have to just, make paths too. anxiety needs YOU to make paths, but YOU don't need anxiety to make paths. your paths WILL be better, safer, easier and happier. you just—and i know that is the biggest "just" ever—have to make them.
but i believe in you. i don't need to know you or your circumstances to believe in you. i believe in the sheer amount of control you have over how you face the world. and it's so much more than anxiety would lead you to believe.
i looooove seeing artists & writers proud of their work!!!!! i looooove captions & authors notes that say things like “i’m quite happy with this” “i love how this turned out” “i had so much fun making this”!!!!!! i loooooove when the act of creation is joyful & we take pride in what we make!!!!!!!!!!
#yoshi talks#this is so important to me and those tags really resonated with me and reminded me of my own journey into getting to that point a lot#most of all: keep creating. and keep beating paths.#<3
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Don't mind me, just revisiting the plot (again) and dying over this line (again). (These screenshots are going to be abysmal, but you'll get the point).
"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."
Yeah he's talking about Mythal (earned or not) and Felassan and Lavellan and Varric...but the way it applies to HIM, too, is what absolutely guts me.
Long post ahead...
Solas realizing that Lavellan doesn't care about how others see him or want to use him under the inquisiton, that HIS motivations as he has shared them are enough for her and worth defending against those who would tell him he's something he isn't. Solas, for the first time, being confronted with the realization that one these new elves he does not see himself in will still go to bat for him.
"You came here to help, Solas, I won't let them use that against you."
(Is he duplicitous? Yes. But intent on working against Corypheus? Undoubtedly).
“How would you stop them?”
“However I had to.”
“...thank you.”
Solas grappling with the fact that it wasn't just a one off, that this Dalish woman being faced with "hypotheticals" he's desperately been trying to get her people to entertain is jumping in head first, pushing back and disagreeing with him but never treating him worse for their differences and always admitting when he's helped shape a changing perspective. Solas daring to ask for help and marveling at the fact that he receives it, that the same woman who asked if it might some day be possible to live alongside spirits, who did not immediately shoot down his critique of THE CHANTRY REFUSING TO ACKNOWLEDGE SPIRITS AS LEGITIMATE BEINGS (GAH), who did not laugh at him for saying he preferred their company most days, this woman, is going to drop time and resources during war time preparations to personally help his friend.
And then, when he is too late and has once again failed someone he considers a friend, he disappears within himself, where he has always gone to exact punishment for the weight of the lives he believes he's betrayed. It almost works, too.
Psych. Lavellan doesn't want him to grieve alone, to stare at the place in the Fade where his friend used to be and think of all he should have done differently.
“The next time you have to mourn, you don’t need to be alone.”
“It’s been so long since I could trust someone.”
“I know.”
“I’ll work on it. And thank you.”
And still she unbalances him, accepts him, wants more. Solas is sharing a personality that brings him the closest he has ever been to his spirit form, and it is ENOUGH for her. Existing as he has always dreamt of is all takes to earn her loyalty, respect, and eventually love.
But does she stop there? No. She doesn't chafe at this random apostate who speaks with certainty and unapologetically delves into a past he believes worth preserving, even at the cost of questioning her culture as it currently stands.
The very woman he once thought of as a mistake that HE unleashed upon the world is asking to be a part of his, not because of what he can bring to the table, not because she needs a right hand man, and certainly not because she thinks he has some well of power and intelligence critical to winning over enemies she’s willing to join for "supervisory" purposes (cough cough hi Mythal). She bears the weight of choices that can and will lead to death, to pain, and when it wears on her she relies on him, not for solutions but so that at the end of it all she might smile with someone who knows her heart and the good she tried to do amidst a sea of terrible options. She wants to be known, no inch of her unturned, and worse, she thinks she knows him. But how could she? This is no longer who he is, it is merely the remnants of what he destroyed to make a world at Mythal's whim.
“You’re an admirable man. Not many people know who they are the way you do.”
“Thank you. Both for saying that and…for seeing that. Few in this world can see me instead of just seeing a pair of pointed ears”
She. Sees. Him. Every part he slowly is realizing he wants to be known for and even a few he thought he could hide. And then he gives it all up. Because he woke to a new world where spirits and elves and mages were so far removed from the role they played in Arlathan that it can only be yet another mistake he caused and must fix, never mind the fact that the dwarves have forgotten why they fled underground millennia ago in the first place.
The friend who tore him from the world he loved, urged him to take physical form? She is dead, too, never mind the fact that she ignored his urging for a different path, nevermind that he killed and tore and hurt in her name because otherwise what was losing the part of himself he loved for?
"A spirit becomes a demon when denied its original purpose.”
“It hurts. It always does, but I will survive.”
“You bound it to obedience, then commanded it to kill. That is when it turned.”
He may no longer recognize where the Dread Wolf ends and where Solas begins, but if he gives up now and permits himself the chance to remember, the pain he caused himself and others means nothing, because he did it all for Mythal and in his final discussion with her, regardless of what Veilguard tries to convey, she does not release him from his position as her agent.
And maybe that's part of why I'm so angry, because EVEN BEFORE TRESPASSER, the fragment of Mythal that ends up in Morrigan could have freed him, but she does not.
"I am sorry." He whispers.
"The failure was mine," he tells her, voice trembling. "I should pay the price."
Silence.
And do we get that "what we did, we did together" psuedo-fake ass-absolution, the one that, if given enough time and safety to put himself first he may have realised he doesn't truly need to pursue the things he deserves, that make him feel finally like himself again? No the fuck we don't.
"As am I, old friend." She murmurs.
Looking through the lens of Veilguard, this isn't an apology, it's a condemnation. It's Mythal tormenting him one more time, twisting the knife deeper, agreeing that it is Solas alone who has brought them to this point, who deserves to be punished. And then she reminds him what they are to each other, what he is supposed to be to her. What he must become again.
"It isn't abuse if I ask," Cole says in his personal quest.
"Not always true," Solas shoots back.
So he recommits to the friend he gave up his nature for, he refuses to let himself remember that Lavellan learned the full truth of his identity and still begged him not to mourn alone. Even so, he still cannot quite forget.
Var lath vir suledin. Our love will persevere.
I wish it could, vhenan.
And so he pushes onwards, spending almost a decade denying himself his true nature and regretting that he ever gave it a chance to come through because now he KNOWS that this world is different and a little broken, but it's a world he could be a part of because of the woman and the friends that made a place for him. It is a world that doesn't necessarily need to be restored as much as it might need renovation, but that is not the world Mythal demanded of him when she let him kill a remaining piece of her. And any solution but that means the hurt of taking a body, of hurting the titans, of time and time again being called on by one evanuris to fix a problem they all caused, was for nothing.
And a Pride of that magnitude, that sinister an origin, has a long, long way to fall.
And then that same uppity little shit has the audacity to tell him it's not too late, that he can turn back.
He kills again. He kills again. He kills again.
He kills a friend.
He fails to prevent the Evanuris from wreaking havoc a second time, wrenches another innocent into his war, and when they ask him about the woman he calls vhenan, he feels the mask stifling him begin to suffocate. But he never lets it fall, because to surrender now is to place her broken heart atop the pile of regrets he's been holding up like Atlas crumbling beneath the weight of the world itself. Because he still thinks it selfish to want the things that make him feel like himself again, so they need to be taken off the board entirely.
"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."
If he gives up now, his entire corporeal life has been a betrayal of many, but worst of all, he will have ruined himself for nothing.
But then she's there. A little older, a little sadder, and still looking at him like she did the night he almost broke and instead carefully removed any suggestion that she had ever belonged to anyone but herself.
"Didn't you hear me?" Her every action screams as she kneels to meet his gaze like he did the day he took her arm (another failure, another sacrifice he cannot let be for nothing).
The tombstone in the fade is his greatest fear, but it is not his fate. Why? She will not let it be. It cannot be his din'anshiral if she is not beside him.
Lavellan may not have understood the depth of exactly WHEN Solas first came somewhere foreign and uncertain to help, but she never once failed to keep her promise. She refuses to let his initial desire to do good be held against him any longer. And when she sees him accept that not-quite-absolution-definitely-more-of-a-power-play from the god that saw what he was capable of and molded him into a weapon, she finds her in to make sure he doesn't walk off alone to mourn again, never again will she lose him to the expectations others have of him. No doubt she wants to find a way to sink the fingers of her good hand into that spectral visage and tear it away like he wishes to do to the veil. But she is not here for Mythal. She is here for her heart, and for the man who has been carrying it since the moment her lips met his in the fade ten years ago.
“No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon.”
She forces him to see that the only remaining betrayal is to lock himself away one more irreversible time. All that's left to lose is the piece of himself he cherishes more than his greatest victories: all that he has to gain comes from making sure the love that was given to him at Skyhold, in the moment where Varric saw all he was capable of and still tried to bring him back home, was not given in vain.
"There is no fate but the love we share." She tells him as soon as Mythal's too-little-too-late platitudes send shudders through his body.
Banal nadas ar lath'ma vhenan.
It will not be so terrible a place, so unforgivable a betrayal if he can finally dare to put himself first. If, unlike that night in Crestwood, he finally gives in not to break, but to make himself whole.
There's a codex entry in Inquisiton about a spirit of wisdom who is summoned by researchers and only after a very pleasant conversation do they realize they made a mistake and never successfully bound the spirit in the first place, that it chose to speak with them of its own accord.
"I am not certain the spirit would have talked so freely had it been shackled at the time," writes the author of the entry.
I keep thinking about this alongside the datamined line of Morrigan saying, "And so, the Dread Wolf is stopped by, of all things love."
But that isn't quite right, is it?
Because in the end, of course the Dread Wolf could only ever freed by, over everything, love.
#solavellan#solas x lavellan#solas dragon age#lavellan#inquisitor lavellan#dragon age inquisiton#dragon age#dragon age veilguard#dragon age the veilguard#datv#datv spoilers#dragon age veilguard spoilers#veilguard spoilers#mythal#fen'harel#dread wolf#cole dragon age#varric tethras#veilguard
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Union Asteroid in Natal Chart
Union asteroid (1585) is an asteroid discovered in 1947 by Ernest Leonard Johnson. This asteroid is considered a love asteroid, and it's often seen as an asteroid linked to our first meeting with your Future Spouse. In order to exactly know what it was about, I did some researches. I found out indeed it's about how we meet our Future Spouse, but also how we get together with them. Literally, how we are going to go in Union with them. Don't forget this post is based on observations. So take those informations lightly.
All pictures were found on Pinterest
Other posts you could like:
જ⁀➴ Union Persona Chart Observations I
જ⁀➴ Juno, Groom, Briede in Signs, Houses, Degrees
જ⁀➴ Groom/ Briede/ Juno aspects in Natal Chart
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This post was based on real observations on people who are already married.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Aries Union can mean a fast meeting, a meeting that can happen suddenly, unexpected, it can also indicate a meeting that is like very physical. It can be love at first sight, something fast. You can have a very quick meeting, getting in a relationship very fast with this person. You can also have a very explosive meeting, it can involve fights, or arguments.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Taurus Union means it's very soft and and romantic meeting. You can have a flirt or meet your FS when you are in a romantic mood. It could be a very nice and chill meeting, in a social gathering perhaps too. You could just meet and have a very good feeling about this person. Like liking each other right away. You can be interested in your FS, finding them cute. It usually means dating right away, you are not friends, usually. Though, this can indicate slowly getting into a relationships with the person.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Gemini Union can mean you can meet in a social setting. It can be in real life or online, but you could also fall for your FS while speaking to them. You can find them funny, love their voice, find them smart, etc. It can indicate being together with them fast.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Cancer Union can mean you can meet your FS in the same place as you are, or you can meet them because of your family. They can seem similar to you, or just you can meet them and feel like you are very much alike. You can meet them in a familiar place. This can also mean getting very much close to your FS before being with them. You can start as friends. It can mean a childhood friend as well.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Leo Union means you can meet your FS and have very strong and passionate feelings for them when you meet. You can also feel so drawn to them you can chase them. You can feel such passion and excitement when you meet them, they can be your sunlight, you could not get enough of them. This can usually mean you'll chase after them, you'll not want to let them go. Whatever you do, you'll be the one wanting to be with them. And you'll have this strong burning desire to be with them.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Virgo Union can mean you can meet at work, but this can mean your FS and you will start dating after getting to know each other well. Having Virgo Union could mean you will let your FS chase you. I have noticed everyone who had it were pretty cold and not obvious they liked their FS when they met them. It can also mean having a slow Union with your FS.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Libra Union can mean you and your FS can flirt a lot when you meet. You can meet at a romantic gathering, blind dates, or for examples it can be a fun party, a gathering to meet people. You could have a thing, a crush for this person, or this can be the same for them. But you could def have a fling with them first.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Scorpio Union can mean you can meet your FS at night, or somewhere dark. Somewhere private too. You can meet them and have a big crush on them, or see them from afar first. There is something about you being shy when you meet them, you can either first observe them before meeting them. You can stalk or just already notice them before you speak to each other. This can also involve secret crush too.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Sagittarius Union can mean meeting in college, while traveling, while learning something or in foreign lands. You can meet them in a different place than where you live, even if it's in the same country as you. But it can def be a meeting that will make you learn something. Also, this means you will discover a lot about you or in general when meeting your FS. It can also mean meeting your FS after moving. This meeting can indicate a slow way to be in a relationship with FS since you may prefer to know each other well before being together.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Capricorn Union can often mean you can meet your FS at work, but usually this means during your meeting, your FS will have a higher status there than you. People who had it often met their spouse at work and they were their boss. It can so indicate office romance. Spouse can be your boss or someone higher in your work status, so you can work for them.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Aquarius Union seems to be very atypical kind of meeting. People who had this placement always met their FS in the weirdest way possible. If they didn't want to seem insane or that the meeting seemed weird, they can lie about the meeting. But it also means your relationship started in a very unusual way. You can also meet in a very unexpected way, perhaps it will be a day you won't expect to meet your FS. You can also meet them and be really amazed by your FS, thinking they are so different. Your Union can be something unexpected from people as well.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Pisces Union can mean your meeting with your FS can be linked to art, creativity. You can meet them also in secret, or your first meeting will feel very intimate, like only both of you notice something is going on. Romance will be present from the first time you meet. Sometimes the union between you two can take longer, but you'll sense since the first day you met that something was going on. It can also mean a meeting related to spirituality and religion too perhaps.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 1H Union can mean you can have a very fast meeting your FS. You can have love at first sight or a very big crush on them when you first meet them. You can also first seem them before meeting them. This placement can suggest you can find them very attractive when you will meet them. You can enter fast in a relationship, and it can also mean being married very young or fast.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 2H Union can mean you'll feel very consistent and sure about your FS when you will meet them. You can also spend a lot of money to see them, to get them, or to even just buy them things. You can be quite flirty and romantic with them, it can be a way to pursue them or chase them. It can be a sign of taking your time to know this person before being them. Moreover, you could want to show them through many ways you are interested in them. It can be very sweet. But anything related to money and possessions can be showing more. You can also feel jealous and possessive over them quite fast. You can also meet related to money, or a contract, a deal.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 3H Union can mean you'll meet your FS with a social circle, in your neighborhood, because of your siblings, friends, or because of a certain community. You can meet online, there can be something related to TV or something related to technologies. Moreover this can mean meeting at school to or library. You can talk a lot when meeting, you can also exchange a lot of ideas as well. You can meet around other people, yet only wanting to talk to your FS. Their voice can charm you as well. You can be the one declaring your love first.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 4H Union can mean meeting your FS around your house, neighborhood, your family too. You can meet your FS because of a house, and it can also mean because of you moving. You can also meet them because they know your family. You can meet them in a very familiar place, perhaps even where you grew up, or where your family grew up. Moreover, you can be childhood friend with this person. It can also indicate meeting when you are young. You can also be together quite fast, or even marry very young.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 5H Union means you'll meet your FS in a holiday setting, meaning anything related to relaxing, getting away from stressful life. You could also meet them and flirt directly with them. You'll feel very interested the first time you will meet. You could flirt with your FS directly on your first meeting. Your Union could feel very teenage love. Children can also be part of your meeting.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 6H Union can mean meeting at work, meeting through work, it can also be an union that takes time, just because both of you want to take your time, or just because things are slow. You can meet related to health too. You can feel like it's a stable meeting, and feel like you feel good and stable with your FS. It can also mean meeting your FS at school. You can be in a very long relationship before marrying.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 7H Union could mean you could be interested in your FS as a lover first. You could have a crush on them, or have the sensation you could date them. It can also mean you will do everything to get them as well. You can also partner with them at work if you have other placements that suggests that.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 8H Union can mean a secret Union, you can be together in secret. It can mean a meeting where you are just the two of you, intimate. You can have a very strong s3xual attraction towards each other, or even you can feel a spark too. You can feel so attracted to your fs they can intimidate you. It can mean also mean feeling like there are just you and your FS when you meet. There can be something taboo as well in the meeting.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 9H Union can mean meeting in college, higher studies, church, or a meeting linked to religion or spirituality. You can meet them and think they are nice, cool, friendly. You can be curious about them, but this placement can indicate it will take time to be together, since there could be a true link to trust each other and getting to know each other slowly.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 10H Union means you'll meet them at work, while working, or during a project of yours at work. You could indeed work with your FS, or you could start dating when you are working together. You could also start dating when you are doing a very important project at work. Work can be involved in this relationship.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 11H Union means you and your FS can be friends at first. You could develop a friendship before being in a relationship with them. You could also meet them through friends, but it can be meeting online, on the internet. You can start a relationship online first. This can indicate a slow moving relationship, a friendship will be required first before being in union with them.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 12H Union can mean you and your FS can get together pretty fast. It can be the feelings being so strong and the romance being so present you may not see you the reality of your connection, and so things can get fast. It can usually also means the native having a false idea of their FS while meeting them. Usually, the native will know immediately their FS is someone special when they will meet them. You can also meet in foreign lands, or also it can mean meeting because of spirituality or religion matters.
⑅ RANDOM OBSERVATIONS ON UNION ASTEROID ⑅
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Lucille Ball had Union Sagittarius 12H, and she met her first husband later in her life (she was 29 in 1940, not that it's old but at that time it was considered old to get married at 29). They also got married in secret and pretty fast.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Ariana Grande has Union Gemini 5H, she met her first husband while wanting to buy a vacation house. She also was very interested in him very fast, and had a big crush instantly.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Desi Arnaz had Union Aquarius, he met Lucille Ball in at a time he didn't expect.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Uranus conjunct Union can mean a very unexpected meeting, sudden meeting, you really could not expect meeting your FS at that time or at that moment.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Venus conjunct Union can mean you'll have a crush on your FS when meeting them. You can find them very good looking, they can look like your ideal type too. It can indicate love at first sight.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Venus conjunct Union in 11H can mean you can have a flirt with your FS online first. Or they can be a friend of yours and you can have a crush on them.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Union conjunct Pluto means you'll feel transformed after meeting your FS, they will leave you a very big impression.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Sun opposite Union can mean you'll not realize first you met your FS, or that this person is your FS. You can take a long time before realizing they are the one for you.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Mars in good aspect with Union can indicate a lot of flirt and sexual tensions between you two. You re physically attracted to your FS.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Saturn in good aspect with Union can mean you'll take your time to be together, and it's actually a good thing, it can be wanting to know each other well, but time will be in your favor in this one.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Union conjunct Mars can be being together fast after meeting. It can also mean you'll want them right when you meet them, you'll be sure of your choice.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Union opposite/ square Mars can mean not feeling a spark right away between you two, you can also have no real desires to be with the person when you meet them. There can be some obstacles when you meet, and you feel like it's not the right time to be together.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Union square Pluto can mean the meeting will trigger you to change, and you'll go in a very deep transformation about yourself.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Union opposite Uranus can mean a very strange and unique meeting. You'll think a lot of people will not believe in the original story on how you met or got together.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ A couple can haver two different Union, it doesn't mean anything in particular. This is more about how you view the meeting and how you view the way you got together.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Union 10H often appeared with people who met their FS around their 30's. Or around the time they were reaching a more serious stage in their adulthood.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ I know three men who have Union Leo 10H, they all chased their FS, they were also very much into wanting to be the provider, even if they weren't before. They all put their wife on a pedestal.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Union aspecting Moon can mean meeting young.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Union square Venus can mean you'll realize you are not truly in love with them with time, or you do not have much romantic feelings at first for them. You are not the one who is the most interested.
₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ Union sextile Rising can mean you find them physically very appealing.
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amore , mio stray kids series
AMORE MIO : otherwise known as "my love" is a collective bunch short love stories about our favorite boys based on songs to celebrate the upcoming love season, winter !
HE'S A GENTLEMAN , c.b - in progress / highschool au / sunshine / grumpy trope ! you've always been one who is oppressive to love, rightfully so, you've been through many heartbreaks. yet, what happens when the one guy you've never shown much of an interest in, shows you what love truly is?
MILLION DOLLAR MAN , l.m - in progress / fake dating trope / holidate au "they say money can't buy happiness, but money bought you, didn't it?" in which the million-dollar man chooses you to be his fake date for each holiday with his nagging family.
ARE YOU LONELY? , s.c - in progress / enemies (?) to lovers / popular prson, loser boy trope being popular doesn't mean having friends, at least friends who are real, so what happens when the only person there for you, is the one person that you hate?
KISS ME , h.h - in progress / she's all that au / popular boy , nerdy other trope popular boy, hwang hyunjin gets peer pressured into a bet to date the nerdy, pretentious, loser of the school and to make them popular in 6 weeks yet, what happens when you become more than just a bet?
LOVE , h.j - finished / starcrossed lovers / rich and poor au / lovesick! jisung " It doesn't matter if I'm not enough for the future or the things to come cause I'm young and in love " you're in different worlds yet individuals who love each other, you've accepted it. you know you can't be together but he just can't get enough.
LOVE STORY , l.f - in progress / starcrossed lovers / prince and painter au months, weeks, days are coming very close til prince felix is crowned king and before he does that, he needs to pick someone to rule with him but, why can't it be you?
I WANNA BE YOURS , k.sm - in progress / fake enemies to lovers / sunshine and grumpy trope in the eyes of seungmin, you're annoying, you're too bright, and definitely too happy so when you take notice of that and decide to hang with someone else, why does it make him... jealous?
THE NIGHT WE MET, y.j - in progress / strangers to lovers / starstruck(?) au you, getting away from a crowd of your family's bodyguards ran into him yang jeongin, the man you'll spend a night of fun, scares and more with
AUTHORS NOTE: happy (almost) holidays everyone, i had so much fun preparing these plots for everyone, i kinda feel like we need more sfw fluff in the skz or even more writing communities so i decided to muster up my very first series lmk what ygs think maybe i'll do more series i also wanted to do something new for some members than expected soooo
#stray kids x reader#skz imagines#stray kids headcanons#skz x reader#stray kids imagine#stray kids#bang chan#bangchan x reader#seo changbin#changbin x reader#lee know x reader#lee know#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin x reader#han jisung#han jisung x reader#han x reader#lee felix#felix#felix x reader#lee felix x reader#seungmin x reader#kim seungmin x reader#seungmin imagines#seungmin#jeongin#jeongin x reader#yang jeongin
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Alrighty this is gonna be long but I'm bored so HERE WE GOOO
Kyomu Mori questions
1.Are they associated with a certain colour? What colour do they wear the most?
Because if his hair colour, I'd say he's accosiated with light blue. He usually wears more muted-ish colours like grey, dark blue, and white, but he loves wearing yellow
2. What sort of music would they like? Have you thought about what genres or bands do they lean towards? Do they have a favorite song?
He prefers rock music. Basically any music that makes you feel like you can take on the world. He loves vibing to those. And just because I don't have a fav song, neither does he 😅 (my fav songs change within a week)
3. Weapon of choice? Any particular reason they chose their weapon?
Guns. Any kind of gun, though he prefers pistols and other small, handheld ones. He likes guns because he's always been talented with them. That, and that he was raised by Snipe
4. How crafty/resourceful are they?
I'd say about a 7-7.5 out of ten for this one. Not the greatest, but he can conjure up some resourcefulness when he wants to
5. How do they typically dress? Does their wardrobe lean more toward practicality or aesthetics?
Depending on how he's feeling, his clothing choice changes. On a good day, he'll go for a nice-fitting tank top. On a bad day, he night go for a loose-fitting t-shirt. His clothing style is casual, but kinda aesthetic in a sort of steetsy-kinda way(??). Fashion/aesthetics are important for him, but you'll never catch him wearing anything with pockets he can't shove his whole hand into
6. How do they wear their hair? Do they care a lot about how their hair looks?
He almost always wears his hair in a high ponytail. Although he does this to get his hair out of the way, he always makes sure his hair looks presentable. He's the kinda guy to use a bit too much conditioner
7. Favourite animal? Why?
Dogs. Specifically german shepherds. Because he thinks guard dogs are cool af
8. Do they have a nickname? Who gave it to them? If it's not derived from their real name, what's the story behind it?
His nickname is Kyo. Ashido gave him it randomly one day, and Kaminari immediately started using it too
9. Favourite food? Least favourite? Are they a picky eater? Do they have any dietary restrictions?
Fav: Burgers. Specifically bacon burgers. Least fav: Tomatoes. He's not really a picky eater, but he's not even TOUCHING anything woth tomatoes in it. And he doesn't have any dietary restrictions
10. If they wear jewelry, what kind? Do they prefer silver or gold? Do they have a favourite gem?
He wears earrings and has an eyebrow piercing, but he'll toss on a necklace or two if he wants to look presentable when going out
11. What do they have in common with you? How are they different? Would you get along with them?
He doesn't have a lot in common with me. Ig we both question authority?? Also we both live guns. Overall, he's MUCH more confident than me. We are quite different. I'd say I wouldn't get along the greatest with him, mainly cuz he likes physical touch, and that is something I HATE. You touch me randomly and I freeze, as well as shoot you a dirty look XD
12. How long have they been around? Do you know their birthday? Is their birthday the day you made them or another day? What do they think of celebrating birthdays?
He has been around for 16 and a bit years, and his birthday is on April 6th. This is not the day I made him (actually this is the first I'm hearing of making their release date into their actual birthday. I shall do this for another of my ocs :) ). He loves his birthday cuz it gives him attention xD
13. What languages do they speak? How fluently?
He can speak Japanese, English, and Filipino. He speaks Japanese fluently. His English isn't the greatest, but he's learning from school. His Filipino is REALLY rusty, but he can hold a basic conversation. He knows Filipino because his father is from the Philippines, and he learned the language as a kid, but he hasn't really used it since highschool
14. Are they any good with numbers?
Not really sure how to interpret this, but he's not the greatest at math
15. How big or small is their family? Who did they live with growing up? Do they live with anyone now?
His parents died. He lived with Snipe growing up. Currently, he's living in the UA dorms
16. Do they have any pets? What do they call their pets?
He doesn't have any pets, but he wants a dog. He also kinda maybe sorta wants a bird
17. How did they spend their summers/free time as a child?
He spent a lot of his time at the shooting range growing up, and it's always been a place of comfort to him
18. Their opinion on lying, stealing, and killing?
He thinks they're bad, obviously. But,,, he does think they are justified, and even necessary, in many cases
19. Are they quick to anger? What sets them off?
He doesn't really anger quickly. He's more laid back. And although he does get angry when someone hurts/threatens his friends, he also gets angry when many little things go wrong. Like, you know those days where everything seems to go wrong and you're tripping on things and dropping things? Yeah that gets him angy quickly
20. If applicable, can they drive? If they have their own, what colour is their vehicle? Is the inside neat and tidy, or a mess?
The legal driving age in Japan is 18, so he can't drive. But he may or may not fail many a driving test in the future... Also he has sworn that his future car WILL have racing stripes.
21. Their favourite place to be?
The shooting range
22. Do they sleep well at night?
Kyomu sleeps like a little baby, if that baby takes up the whole bed while sleeping and falls off the bed randomly in the night
23. How would you describe their voice? Can they sing?
His voice is on the louder side. I don't have a voice claim yet, but I may find one eventually. Also he can't sing. Granted, it's def not the worst out there, but it couldn't be considered "good"
24. Do they have any creative hobbies? (Art, writing, music, etc.)
He likes doing graffiti, tho he doesn't do it often. Other than that, he likes to listen to music
25. How good/bad is their hearing? What about their eyesight?
His hearing is a little better than what is considered normal, and his eyesight is good. Little fun fact about his eyesight: He sees yellow slightly better than any other colour. Yellow is very slightly more vibrant and bright to him
26. How do they move? Are they clumsy? Light on their feet? Do they use mobility aids?
Because of how his legs are built, he is slightly more light on his feet. His footsteps don't make a lot of noise. He can be a bit clumsy tho. He's not the most careful with his actions
27. If applicable, do they have a favorite sport? Do they play any sports or prefer to watch?
He likes basketball (probably cuz Kyomu has a height advantage over his friends). Watching sports is boring to him, and he prefers to play some friendly basketball with his friends
28. How do they show they care about someone? How do they express that they don't like someone?
Kyomu shows he likes someone by doing things with them and touching them (not like that. Stop it.). He'll ruffle his friends' hair or playfully poke them, and he's always down to give a massage if asked. Sometimes he'll even find his tail involuntarily grazing by the legs of those he loves.
29. Are they accosiated with any particular element (air, earth, fire, water)?
I don't think he's really "accosiated" with an element, but he'd probably be water
30. Do they smell like anything notable?
Nope. The only notable smell-related thing I can think of is that he sometimes uses women's deodorant because it smells better than men's "forest mud deodorant" or whatever it's named xD
31. Do they like receiving gifts? Giving gifts? What is their ideal gift?
He loves receiving gifts, but not giving so much, because he rever really knows what to get people. His ideal gift is any like, small, neat, unique, silly trinket. He loves collecting silly shit his friends give him
32. Do they have any hobbies that aren't particularly self-destructive, just maybe odd?
Not a hobby, but he drinks the pickle juice out of the jar when he finishes all the pickles.
33. If applicable, how would your other characters describe them? I mean specifically the people around them.
I don't have any other Mha ocs as of rn, but I can do this for his friends. Also I'm not gonna go into how each character would describe him, so ima do how the characters see him Kaminari, Ashido, and Sero see him as kinda like a cool older brother, and they live hanging out with him Kirishima and Jirou see him as a wee bit much, but they still love him and love the energy that he brings to class. Bakugou doesn't like him. Especially cuz Kyomu is taller than him and he doesn't like that Others like Iida, Midoriya, and Ochako don't care for his rebellious personality, but they will admit that he brings up the mood of just about whatever situation he finds himself in
(The thing above is being a bitch and is refusing to be coloured blue and now we must all suffer.)
34. How would your character describe themselves? It doesn't have to line up with who they really are.
Kyomu thinks of himself as more or less the "popular kid" that just about everyone likes. He would describe himself as brave, strong, and willing to stick up for what he thinks is right
35. Do they ever return home?
. . . . ?? He never "left" home?? I mean, he is living in the dorms rn, but idk what this question is getting at :/
Tagging @bluespider008 because I found these questions cuz you posted yours, but I didn't want this to take up a ton of space on my blog, so I just reblogged the original post 😅
Idk if you wanna see this, but you're seeing it now!
Also feel free to reblog with your oc :)
i wanted to make an oc ask game 😋 things i like to ask people abt their characters:
are they associated with a certain color? what color do they wear the most?
what sort of music would they like? have you thought about what genres or bands do they lean towards? do they have a favorite song?
weapon of choice? any particular reason they chose their weapon?
how crafty/resourceful are they?
how do they typically dress? does their wardrobe lean more towards practicality or aesthetics?
how do they wear their hair? do they care a lot how their hair looks?
favorite animal? why?
do they have a nickname? who gave it to them? if it's not derived from their real name, what's the story behind it?
favorite food? least favorite? are they a picky eater? do they have any dietary restrictions?
if they wear jewelry, what kind? do they prefer silver or gold? do they have a favorite gem?
what do they have in common with you? how are they different? would you get along with them?
how long have they been around? do you know their birthday? is their birthday the day you made them or another day? what do they think of celebrating birthdays?
what languages do they speak? how fluently?
are they any good with numbers?
how big or small is their family? who did they live with growing up? do they live with anyone now?
do they have any pets? what do they call their pets?
how did they spend their summers/free time as a child?
their opinion on lying, stealing, and killing?
are they quick to anger? what sets them off?
if applicable, can they drive? if they have their own, what color is their vehicle? is the inside neat and tidy, or a mess?
their favorite place to be?
do they sleep well at night?
how would you describe their voice? can they sing?
do they have any creative hobbies? (art, writing, music, etc)
how good/bad is their hearing? what about their eyesight?
how do they move? are they clumsy? light on their feet? do they use mobility aids?
if applicable, do they have a favorite sport? do they play any sports or prefer to watch?
how do they show that they care about someone? how do they express that they don't like someone?
are they associated with any particular element (air, earth, fire, water)?
do they smell like anything notable?
do they like receiving gifts? giving gifts? what is their ideal gift?
do they have any habits that aren't particularly self-destructive, just maybe odd?
if applicable, how would your other characters describe them? i mean specifically the people around them.
how would your character describe themselves? it doesn't have to line up with how they really are.
do they ever return home?
#Holy fuck this took so long#Lol#Kyomu#Oc#My oc#Original character#my original character#oc stuff#Mha#Bnha#Mha oc#Bnha oc#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#mha original character#bnha original character#Reblog#Questions#my oc stuff#My hero oc
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Viktor x Reader Headcanons
Pronouns for reader: Gender neutral, AFAB undertones if you squint
Relationship type: Platonic to Romantic
General Idea: Some silly little headcanons I have for Viktor because he's still my silly little princess. Even after the whole glorious evolution thing.
Content Warnings: S1 Viktor, no S2 spoilers, But there as little bit of s2 viktor's mindset, I'm projecting a little bit (a lot) but it's fine.
~☆~
I honestly see Viktor as asexual with light aromantic undertones (kinda like demiromantic, I guess??). He rarely ever developes romantic feelings. Like its a once in a blue moon thing.
Like... he has to know you for YEARS before something in his head is like "Oh... hey they kinda cute?"
However, when he DOES develop feelings that go beyond friendship, Viktor HEAVILY struggles with coming to terms with them. Not in like a "I don't DO feelings" type way, but more in a "Well... no... it could be this" type of way.
Oh, his heart rate speeds up a little bit when you two accidently brush hands? It must just be his nerves.
When he does realize that he has feelings for someone, it's kind of like that scene in Gravity Falls where Dipper is like "It's not like I stay awake at night thinking about Wendy" and it cuts to him laying awake thinking about Wendy XD
If he likes someone romantically, he talks about them a lot. Like as if trying to bring them up as much as he can. Like "Oh (Y/N) mentioned something about that book, said they really liked it" Or "(Y/N) actually said something similar about that topic" If he could yap about you for hours, he probably would.
Even if you're being PAINFULLY obvious about your romantic feelings towards Viktor, he will firmly believe you're just being friendly.
Why he does it is a mix between two things: one is that he's just not awesome with people. And second is that he firmly believes someone like you could never love someone like him back.
One night, Viktor had been constantly working without break, so you practically dragged him to his room by his ear and forced him to get some rest.
Viktor has a strong habit of having his workspace FILLED with old mugs, sometimes days old. He doesn't really mean to, just too wrapped up in Hextech to really notice.
He also struggles with meals too. Just like above, because he literally just gets too wrapped up in his work.
If Viktor actually confesses feelings, it's such an interesting experience. Because he doesn't just flat out say "Hey I have feelings for you". He stumbles over his words and rambles about something random in the middle of it. So you gotta help him out a little bit.
Viktor's love language is quality time. He'll make sure his seat is next to you when it can, he always yaps about what he's uncovered about Hextech.
Speaking of Hextech, if you just sit there and watch him work? He'd about die of happiness on the spot. If you, someone he really loved, took an interest to something he truly loved DOING? Perfect.
He used to get really flustered about physical affection. Like you held his hand one time and he about combusted. He was red in the face for hours. He got better with it overtime, of course. But for the first few months, he was pretty much bright red the whole time.
Dates are rare, neither of you have the time for it. But when you two do have dates of some kind, they're mostly stay at home type things.
You know that thing kids do? Like playing their own separate things together? Parallel play, I think it's called? Yeah you two do that a lot.
Viktor will be reading some papers and you'll be reading a book, your feet in his lap.
Speaking of, Viktor is such a reader omg He doesn't read a lot anymore due to his constant workload, but when he does, he reads a lot of like... old books. The ones with yellowing pages and smell nice? Yeah... those ones!
If you two slept in the same bed, he'd be all like... giggly and nervous the first few times. Just like affection, he'd get used to it. But it's still cute.
When you two are cuddling, run your fingers in his hair. He'll melt right into you regardless of the situation. It's like an instant relax button for him.
Him laying his head on your chest, and you running your fingers through his hair? Something about it just... works. It calms him down a lot and makes him feel at peace.
His favorite place to kiss is the crook of your neck. Especially if you're around his height (he's like... between 5'7 and 5'10. I don't remember exactly).
Or your temples. It's simple, it doesn't attract a lot of attention. And let's be real, it's underrated as hell.
He's not big on PDA, but he'll hold your hand in public. He likes holding onto just one of your fingers, like your pinkie or something like that. It, just like temple kisses, is simple and discreet.
He doesn't often say "I love you". He feels bad about it, but you don't mind. He often says I love you without saying it. Things like holding you while you sleep, kissing your forehead as you two read in each other's arms, weaving your fingers with his while he works.
He gets self-conscious a lot. He thinks you could do a lot better than him and that he's not perfect.
Please kiss this poor boy all over and tell him he's perfect as is 😭😭
~☆~
A/N:The Arcane brainrot has gotten to me... This is how I'm coping with the finale. But I've wanted to write Viktor or Sevika stuff for a HOT minute now. I've been in the Arcane fandom for YEARS (a fanfic writer even longer) but this is my first Arcane fic... wild XD
For more fics: my masterlist!
~Squeed
#hyperfixation#fanfic#fanfiction#arcane x y/n#arcane x you#arcane#arcane league of legends#viktor x you#viktor fluff#viktor x reader#viktor arcane#viktor#viktor league of legends#viktor lol#viktor fanfic#headcanons#arcane headcanon#viktor headcanons
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Viktor x Reader
tags: nsfw, suggestive but on a spiritual lvl 🤌 hurt/comfort. robo viktor and intimacy basically.
[established relationship]
Viktor's new body doesn't feel physical pleasure. Doesn't feel friction or warmth to any extensive degree.
But you'll often find yourself placed on his lap, with him guiding your hips to grind against his own. His arms guiding yours around his shoulder, neck, back...wherever your heart desires to leave a ghost of an imprint. He traces your skin with fingertips that don't really feel any pressure whatsoever, but his soul yearns to touch you like he used to.
And he does. It makes him desperate at first...lost and heartbroken. He has to learn to calculate better, in fear of not giving you a good enough illusion that he is still as human as he was, still an attentive lover that he used to be.
The kind that would spend hours making you feel good, loved and precious. He used to push himself to exhaustion just because he needed to show you his affections thoroughly.
He still would. He still does. Every little speck of him that is left within this new vessel, he selflessly gives to you. The shudders that he lets out when you whine and moan are raw and real, the adoration in his eyes when he does something right and you gasp...it's for you only.
He can feel your emotions and hear your thoughts when the connection between you is at its peak. Once you place your forehead against his and you fall apart under his skilled hands, he can experience the ecstasy similar to the one he used to when he was mortal.
It's yours. It's borrowed. But it gets him high. The fraction of your pleasure that he can feel through your bond makes him addicted, insatiable. It can be considered selfish when he thinks about it more in depth, however it isn't.
Because he would do it all just for you...even if he couldn't feel a single thing, he knows he would always feel utter love and devotion towards everything that makes you. Your plump lips, your eager hands, your honey coated words, your mind and intelligence, your familiarity.
He'd rip himself apart and turn to nothing if it made you happy.
So he's quick to learn. He learns how to press his cold lips against yours just right...all over again. Relearns how to touch you in ways he used to know by heart. The instincts that seemed to die with his body, he has to fabricate.
There's beauty in those calculations. It comforts him. Because those seemingly "robotic" efforts are naked proof that his love for you will never falter, no matter the form he takes on.
He knows that you see his struggles, notice the smaller errors he makes in rhythm, in the gentleness or the roughness of his movements. But as always, you understand him and his body, the state of it, the "faults" as he used to call them, which you always said you'd love, no matter what they were.
This stayed constant in your relationship from before and now. Your stubbornness to love him through everything , even this, and he'd be a fool to not repay you.
So he makes love to you, under the glossy, shiny stars and then under the morning sunrise, on the wet grass or the cloudy floor of his hidden universe. You'll feel him molding his body for you and pouring his soul into you until you're crying, panting and shaking underneath him.
He'll swallow the screams from your lips as you crumble for him, and he'll engrave them so deep within himself so that nothing could rip them away.
Noone can ever love me like the fictional men in my head and I'll have to accept that eventually . Anyways I hope you enjoyed this blurb, if you did, stay tuned bc this blog is slowly turning into a Viktor shrine.
requests are set to open while this season's high fuels me, so feel free to drop by🩵
#arcane#viktor arcane#viktor x reader#viktor league of legends#viktor machine herald#arcane season 2
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No Judgments
See Me Through You Blurb
Synopsis: You and Joe do the 'We listen and don't judge' TikTok challenge 🤭
Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader
Requested by: a few gorgeous anons 💕
Series Masterlist
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
After wiping your mouth and rinsing it out with mouthwash from your sudden episode of morning sickness, you made your way back into the bedroom where your husband was still peacefully sleeping.
You attempted to climb back into the bed without waking him up, but feeling the weight shift made him flutter his eyes open. Joe had never been a really deep sleeper, but since he found out you were pregnant, usually he wakes up at the smallest noise and it left you surprised this morning when he didn’t feel you get out of bed the first time.
“Baby, you okay?” He asked as he pulled you towards him so he could wrap his arms around you and kissed the top of your head.
“Your children won't let me be great and made me throw up again.” You quietly answered and you had now grown frustrated since it seemed like the morning sickness wasn't only happening in the morning, but throughout the day.
“You want me to make you some tea?”
“Yes, please. I'm miserable.”
Joe then placed his hand on your belly and began to rub small circles on it as he noticed that your bump was actually starting to show.
“Babies, stop making mommy sick so she can sleep. Daddy’s orders.”
“Hopefully they'll listen to you because clearly they pay me no attention.”
“When they hear ‘the voice’ for the first time, they're going to be running for their lives.” Joe said, referring to the first time he heard it and made sure to stay out of your way for the rest of the day.
“I still to this day have no idea what you are talking about when you say that.”
“It's a voice you make when you get really annoyed. Ask Ja'Marr, he'll back me up.”
“I just think you two are being dramatic.”
“Says the most dramatic person in the room….”
“Husband! Take it back!”
“Nope, it's facts and I'm not going to lie to you.”
All you did was roll your eyes in response as Joe raised his eyebrows at you.
“Don't catch an attitude with me because it's something you didn't want to hear. Fix your face.”
“I'll fix mine if you let me ride yours.”
“I… These pregnancy hormones are giving me a run for my money and got me fighting for my damn life. One thing at a time and let's get your nausea under control first.”
Later on in the day, when Joe was sitting at the island in the kitchen, you went and sat next to him while setting up your phone. He quickly noticed and looked over at you.
“Whatever it is, no.”
“But baby! Pleaseeee?!”
You knew Joe hated being in front of a camera, but you loved doing TikTok challenges with him from time to time.
Sighing and finally giving in, he put his phone down to give you his undivided attention.
“Okay, what are we doing?”
“We listen and we don't judge challenge. I sent you a few so you would have an example to know what to do.”
“Only because it's you. Let's get this over with.”
“Yay! And I want you to go first.” You told him as you pressed record.
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“When I feel like I'm getting sick, I act like I'm so drained so I can't do anything so you'll baby me.” Joe was the first one up and smiled at you when he was finished.
“What the? I baby you anyway! Like 98% of the time.”
“AHT! No judging. You just take it to a different level. Moving on.”
“You are literally MY baby though. My 6’4 baby and I'm 4'11, but who's to say anything about that? I love you bad and I see you're using it to your advantage.”
“To get endless cuddles from my wife? Hell yeah I'm taking advantage of it.”
“Okay, next.”
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“So after you fall asleep since your bedtime is like 6 pm.. like a grandpa…” You started to say, but was immediately interrupted.
“9 during the season!”
“Stop interrupting me, husband! After you fall asleep, I go and buy things on your phone and make sure to delete the notifications so you don't find out.”
“BABY!”
“HEY! I BUY YOU THINGS TOO!”
“And you hide the packages too because I literally never see any of them.”
“Hmm, maybe.”
“Fine. Keep your secrets.”
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“When we were at LSU and we were just friends, I memorized your schedule and knew you had a lot of late classes and I would purposely wait for you if it was dark outside to walk you to your car to make sure you were safe. And it gave me a chance to spend more time with you.”
“So, that's why it seemed like you were always around? Aww, you love me!” You told him as you pinched his cheek.
“And don't you ever forget it.”
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“During last season when I saw you wore THOSE PANTS, yes you know the ones I'm talking about, after I specifically told you not to because they looked crazy and you wore them anyway, you kept asking if I've seen them but I hid them somewhere in our house and they have been hidden for so long that I forgot their location.”
“I LOVE THOSE PANTS, BABE!”
“THEY ARE HIDEOUS, BABY. NO!”
“I'm making it my mission later to find my pants.”
“I know Ja'Marr probably bought you those ugly ass pants.”
“AHT! You're judging!”
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“When you're mad at me, I purposely go into the cabinet and make all of the jar lids tighter so you have to come and talk to me.” Joe confessed and you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms at the same time.
“SERIOUSLY? And here I am thinking I'm a weak bitch! I can lift almost as heavy as you can! And a jar lid is what does me in?!?”
“Works every time.”
“I'm going to have to do it myself next time.”
“Like that will ever happen…” Joe said and you playfully rolled your eyes.
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“Okay, so….” You started to say as you glanced at Joe and he sighed knowing that something crazy and out of pocket was about to come out of your mouth.
“Oh shit, here we go.”
“Sometimes, I purposely piss you off and I don't know that you know you do this but your voice gets deeper and it turns me on so bad. Like your voice by itself turns me on, but when you get mad, whew. Sign me up for EVERY position. It's happening now and I'm just thinking about it. Gets your girl all hot and bothered.” You quietly said as Joe stared at you since you were now squirming in your chair and trying to keep your legs as tight as possible.
“Are you seriously squirming over there? And I’m not surprised by this in the slightest. Just wait until we're finished with this, I'm about to turn you every way but loose. And hold on! I thought we were keeping this PG!?” He asked as he leaned over and kissed you.
“Don't threaten me with a good time and when are the videos we do ever PG? Especially when it's something like this? And don't get me started because I will literally rip off your clothes at this very moment.”
“Good point and see? And that's why you're pregnant now.”
“Because my husband is fine as hell and I'll fu-” Joe's eyes went wide as he promptly covered your mouth with his hand and in protest, you licked it, making him look at you dumbfounded.
“No! Do not finish that sentence. This is really about to turn into something else if you don't stop. And did you just lick my hand!?”
“I wanna lick something else too, but I'll save that for when we turn the camera off.” You tried to whisper, but failed miserably.
“BABY QUIT IT!” Joe pleaded and all you did was shrug.
“I was like this before you married me and you should have known that once this ring was on my finger, I was about to be ten times worse.”
“Hmm, that's putting it lightly.”
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“I hide some of your perfumes so that you'll only use my favorite ones that I've bought for you.”
“Babe! How many have you hidden!? And here I am thinking that I've lost them!”
“Hmm, not telling.”
“You're annoying.”
“I'm cute and you love me.”
“Survey says that both of those responses are correct.”
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“So, when you got hurt during your rookie year, I was watching the game and saw it happen and my heart immediately dropped. Because we literally had an argument hours before that game and we weren't talking and now I think back on it, I had no idea what the argument was about. But, I low-key felt that you getting hurt was somehow my fault. I remember packing my things and getting on a plane and crying the entire way there and I honestly didn't know if you wanted to see me at that point. Because I had sent you a text right before the game and you didn't respond. And to this day, I still feel like that.”
It was quiet for a few seconds before Joe said anything.
“That… baby that wasn't your fault. It was a bad hit. And of course I wanted to see you. You were actually the first person I asked for. I never knew you felt like that.”
“I hate seeing you in pain and I…. I'm about to cry again.”
“I can tell, hormones.” Joe replied as he wiped your eyes for you.
“But I came back from it because of you and how you helped me. You being there was enough. You love me bad, don't you?” He asked as he was trying to get you to smile.
“So much, and you know it.”
“We listen and we don't judge.”
“Ever since you told me you were pregnant, I watch you until you fall asleep to make sure you’re okay. Doesn't matter how long it takes or if I have to get up early. You're my priority.”
“And, I'm about to cry again. Damn these hormones.”
“You are literally MY person and I don't know what I'd do without you.”
“Ladies, get you a husband who treats you like the queen you are every day because….. shoutout to Jimmy and Robin because the two of them gave me one of the best things that ever happened to me.”
“Wait… ONE of the best things? I'm not THE best thing!?”
“Hmm, you're top five.” You replied as you shrugged.
“Uh? You mean number one?”
“If it makes you feel better, the top five things all have to do with you.”
“That sounds suspicious, but I'll let it slide for now.”
“I love you Joseph Lee Burrow!” You exclaimed as you kissed his cheek and wrapped your arms around him.
“Stop trying to change the subject and I know for a damn fact you didn't just call me by my full name. I get anxious when you do that.”
“Wait, huh?”
“We've gone over this a million times. My name is BABY to you. When it comes to you I don't know who Joseph is.”
“And he calls me the dramatic one.”
#joe burrow#joe burrow x black reader#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow fluff#joe burrow imagine#nfl imagine#joe burrow fanfic#joe burrow fanfiction#joey b#cincinnati bengals
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I SWEAR THE DAY I DON'T HAVE HEART PALPITATIONS AND WITNESS MY SOUL ASCENDING OVER YOUR WORK IS THE DAY I HAVE PASSED FROM THIS WORLD.
HOPE YOU'RE READY FOR MY MANY SILLY RAMBLINGS UNDER THE CUT
FIRSTLY THIS,
So when you pushed open the door to the room of requirement a little over ten-minutes later, you hadn't been sure what you were expecting to find. Something darker, maybe. More foreboding. But when the room revealed itself before you—silent, draped in soft moonlight that pooled over the bed with a window wide and open, spilling that pale silver fog across the floor—you almost laughed.
IS GORGEOUS. I LOVE THE EXPECTING OF SOMETHING DARK AND IT BEING SO LIGHT INSTEAD. AND LIKE IT BEING A PERFECT MIRROR OF MATTHEO AND HOW THE EXPECTATION OF THIS NIGHT BETWEEN THEM COULD BE. JUST HONESTLY BEAUTIFUL.
SECONDLY, YOU KNOW I ALWAYS ADORE YOUR CHARACTERISATION OF MATTHEO AND THIS IS NO DIFFERENT.
He turned, finally. His eyes met yours and you saw it—the hesitation, the way his gaze moved over you, slow, cautious. He took in the way the light draped itself over your shoulders, moving lower—and it was as if for the first time, he allowed himself to see you fully, all the details he had so tried to ignore, now right in front of him. He drank them in.
AND
He moved closer, but not close enough. Not yet. His breath was tight, chest rising and falling too fast. The space between you felt like a chasm, though it was barely there at all.
I LOVE THAT HE'S NERVOUS, THAT DESPITE HIM BEING ESSENTIALLY IN CONTROL OF THIS SITUATION GIVEN THAT HE HAS THE EXPERIENCE, HE'S NOT ACTING CONFIDENT OR SMUG. HE'S UNSURE AND I LOVE THE SENSE OF VULNERABILITY.
"I'm not hesitating," he muttered, though the roughness in his voice betrayed him. He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be doing this with you. His best friend's little sister. He wanted to give you every chance to stop this, to walk away. "Just trying not to rush this—rush you."
I JUST WANT TO HOLD HIS PRETTY FACE. I LOVE PATIENT MATTHEO.
His hand caught your wrist, intending to stop you, but his fingers lingered against your skin. Frozen.
"We shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, the words thick in his throat. "Your first time should be—"
"My choice," you interrupted, pressing closer, your body flush against his, your lips brushing his jaw as your hand slid lower, teasing the edge of his belt. "My virginity is mine to give, Mattheo. And I want to give it to you."
He shuddered, your words settling, sinking into the dark space that held you both captive. His hand found your hip, the other threading through your hair, gently tugging your head back to expose the soft skin of your neck."You’re not thinking straight," he rasped. "You'll regret this..."
But even as he said it, his hands tightened, pulling you impossibly closer.
I AM OBSESSED OVER THE WAR WITHIN MATTHEO, THE WAY HIS BODY AND HIS ACTIONS DISREGARD HIS WORDS AND HIS FEAR. I LOVE HER CONFIDENCE IN HER DECISION AND HOW MUCH IT EFFECTS HIM TO HEAR IT.. AAAAAAA SLDKFJDJS GOD I WANT TO MARRY YOU'RE WRITING (and you)
—his brain was struggling to catch up, like he couldn't believe the sudden shift, couldn't quite fathom the boldness with which you undid him.
Until—his hands were on you, spinning you around, your back hitting the desk with a thud.
THE FUCKING SWITCH HERE OMG
You shuddered—you'd never seen him like this before—there was something feral in the way he moved, now, something sharp in the way his hands worked.
His presence consumed the room, and for a moment, it was all you could focus on—the intensity of him, the raw, unfiltered hunger in his eyes.
FERAL MATTHEO. FERAL MATTHEO. FERAL MATTHEO. I'M SCREAMING. HOWLING. CLAWING AT THE WALLS. I'D LET THIS MAN TEAR ME TO PIECES WITHOUT HESITATION.
"That's all you think about, isn't it?" He smirked, lips falling to your neck, tongue tracing the places he knew would wreck you, each soft, wet press making you whimper despite yourself. "You don't care about anything else..." his fingers slipped lower, dipping between your folds—and you cried out, shameless, the sensation unlike any other you'd ever felt. "…not the consequences, not the risk...you just want me…”
I FEEL CALLED OUT.
"You—" you panted, trying to find your voice. Blinking through the haze of lingering bliss. "You can't say things like that."
"Why not?" He chuckled your name against your neck, lips brushing a path to your ear. "Because you might fall in love with me?" His teeth grazed the sensitive spot under your lobe, along your jawline. "Oh wait...you already have."
DAMN FUCKING RIGHT I HAVE YOU SEXY BITCH. GODDDD I KNOW I'VE ALREADY SAID IT BUT YOU JUST WRITE MATTHEO SO PERFECTLY. TO HAVE HIM BE SO FUCKING COCKY DURING SUCH AN OVERWHELMING MOMENT. HE'S A LITTLE SHIT AND I LOVE HIM FOR IT.
His face was a storm—flushed, eyes half-shut—but at your voice they opened and flicked down to yours, and for once, there was no arrogance, no mockery in that stare. Just raw, primal need, burning so fiercely it made you ache. His hips rocked, desperate for more. Painfully. A hole in his chest torn wide open for you to see, and he didn't care. Couldn't care.
THIS!!!!!!! THE IMAGERY!!!!! JUST ALL OF HIS DEFENCES BLOWN AWAY, I LOVE IT SO MUCH
His voice dropped, eyes dark and soft at once as he pushed another finger inside. "You know you’ve always had me wrapped around your fucking finger. You know I care about you—“
His words were too much, pressing on something fragile inside you, and you pulled him into a kiss to shut him up—deep, desperate, drowning.
I'M SOBBING, THE INTENSITY BETWEEN THEM. I CANT BREATHE.
"You've got me," he rasped, hips grinding involuntarily against your hand. "Just—fuck—don't hate me after this."
JUST PUNCH ME IN THE HEART WHY DONT YOU.
His eyes were locked onto yours, all that self-assurance gone, melted into something more human—something raw, unguarded.
You could feel it; the vulnerability of this moment stretched between you both—the distance you'd maintained for so long, the careful walls you'd built, were nothing now. He was in too deep, and so were you.
"Stop me at any time," he whispered, his voice a raw rasp, eyes meeting yours. "Just breathe.”
He leaned down until his lips ghosted over yours, and you kissed him like the world might collapse if you didn't.
EM WHAT THE HELL, I DIDNT EXPECT TO BE AN EMOTIONAL WRECK OVER A VIRGINITY LOSS FIC AT 11AM. GOD THE SOFTNESS IS MAKING ME ACHE.
It was overwhelming—the fullness, the ache that felt like it might split you in two. And yet, beneath the pain, something else stirred. His words, soft and rough all at once, made the sensation bearable, turned the hurt into something else. You focused on his voice, on the way he stroked your hair, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
OKAY I'M GOING TO STOP THERE OTHERWISE I'M JUST GOING TO BE PUTTING THE WHOLE FIC IN THIS REBLOG WITH MY SILLY LITTLE ANNOTATIONS. I'M OBSESSED WITH THIS, I LOVE THAT DURING IT HAPPENING THERE'S BARELY A SENTENCE WITHOUT THEM NEEDING TO GASP FOR BREATH, THE INTENSITY OF IT IS JUST PORTRAYED SO WELL. YOU REALLY ARE A MASTER OF YOUR CRAFT AND I'LL BE WORSHIPPING THIS FIC IN MY HEAD FOR WEEKS.
LOVE IT AND LOVE YOU 🖤
SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER
october 4th. mattheo - virginity loss / corruption kink.
PART TWO | kinktober masterlist. | 2024.
summary: pls read part one first for a lil buildup. also. im laughing at myself bc there was a perfectly good bed…right there…
warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, virginity loss, PIV, so much dirty talk, so much patience from mattheo, (more of a realistic virginity loss bc it’s not always easy), praise!!!!, slight degradation, fingering, multiorgasm, handjob, best friends lil sister trope.
Mattheo Riddle was so accustomed to this. The pulse of adrenaline in the dead of night, the quiet hum of anticipation stretching every second longer than it needed to be. You weren't naive to that, not to him, nor the danger he carried so effortlessly in his stride. He wore it like a second skin.
But you—you were not accustomed to it. Not to any of this.
So when you pushed open the door to the room of requirement a little over ten-minutes later, you hadn't been sure what you were expecting to find. Something darker, maybe. More foreboding. But when the room revealed itself before you—silent, draped in soft moonlight that pooled over the bed with a window wide and open, spilling that pale silver fog across the floor—you almost laughed.
Too perfect. Too on the nose, like the castle itself had been watching you both for months and had decided this was the moment it would indulge you.
"You're late." Mattheo's voice cut through the quiet.
His back was to you, suit jacket discarded on an old oak desk against the wall, dark curls falling just above his collar as he stood by the window, eyes fixed on the lake. The moonlight made the ripples dance, just like the tension in the room.
You took a step toward him, silent.
He turned, finally. His eyes met yours and you saw it—the hesitation, the way his gaze moved over you, slow, cautious. He took in the way the light draped itself over your shoulders, moving lower—and it was as if for the first time, he allowed himself to see you fully, all the details he had so tried to ignore, now right in front of him. He drank them in.
You gave him a small, nervous smile, hoping it would ease the weight of his stare. "I didn't realize you were the type to keep track of time."
He moved closer, but not close enough. Not yet. His breath was tight, chest rising and falling too fast. The space between you felt like a chasm, though it was barely there at all.
"You've a lot to learn, little girl," he teased, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, though it did nothing to mask the conflict in his eyes. It was meant to disarm you, but it only made the air heavier. His jaw tightened. "You're sure about this?"
"Quite sure," you breathed, stepping closer, close enough to admire the sharp line of his jaw, the soft stubble. "You're the one who's hesitating."
"I'm not hesitating," he muttered, though the roughness in his voice betrayed him. He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be doing this with you. His best friend's little sister. He wanted to give you every chance to stop this, to walk away. "Just trying not to rush this—rush you."
You let out a small huff, your hand moving up to find his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. Mattheo Riddle was nervous.
"You've been making me wait for months," you whispered. "I don't think a little rushing would hurt."
He swallowed hard, his eyes locked on your hand as it trailed over his chest, lower, teasing. Every touch was a flame against his skin, every breath between you a match struck in the dark. He wanted you, more than anything, but the weight of it—the wrongness, the danger—clawed at his conscience.
His hand caught your wrist, intending to stop you, but his fingers lingered against your skin. Frozen.
"We shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, the words thick in his throat. "Your first time should be—"
"My choice," you interrupted, pressing closer, your body flush against his, your lips brushing his jaw as your hand slid lower, teasing the edge of his belt. "My virginity is mine to give, Mattheo. And I want to give it to you."
He shuddered, your words settling, sinking into the dark space that held you both captive. His hand found your hip, the other threading through your hair, gently tugging your head back to expose the soft skin of your neck.
"You’re not thinking straight," he rasped. "You'll regret this..."
But even as he said it, his hands tightened, pulling you impossibly closer.
"I'll regret nothing." Your fingers slipped lower, grazing his crotch, moving with nothing but instinct and need. Biting your lip, you felt the outline of him, hard and aching under your palm, and squeezed—he grunted, snapping his hips, and you throbbed. "Shit, Mattheo..."
"You are—fuck..." Mattheo's voice was a ragged breath, the words drawn out like he'd been holding them back for months. "...such a little tease."
You let go as quickly as you'd squeezed, and he growled against your skin, fingers tightening in your hair. Your hands found his face, pulling him in, crushing your lips to his. You moved with intent, pushing him back until his thighs hit the edge of the desk, and he groaned again—this low, guttural sound that sent a thrill through you.
You smirked into the kiss, tasting his frustration, savouring the way his defences cracked open. When you pulled back, his chest was heaving, lips swollen, eyes dark with want.
"I learned from the best," you whispered, teasing as your fingers slid down, finding the buckle of his belt. He watched you, every breath uneven, as you worked at the latch, pulling the leather free. "You've had months of fun tormenting me," you continued, moving to the button, the zipper. "Kissing me, only to say it was a mistake. Grabbing my ass every chance you could. Talking sweet when my brother wasn't looking..." your smirk deepened, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "...it's my turn now."
His pants sagged around his hips as you undid them and he cursed under his breath—his brain was struggling to catch up, like he couldn't believe the sudden shift, couldn't quite fathom the boldness with which you undid him.
Until—his hands were on you, spinning you around, your back hitting the desk with a thud.
"You think you're in control here?" His fingers slid up your hips, dragging your dress along with them, baring your skin to the cool air. "You think you have any goddamn idea what you're doing?"
You shuddered—you'd never seen him like this before—there was something feral in the way he moved, now, something sharp in the way his hands worked. His thumbs hooked around your panties and in one swift motion, they were gone—torn down your thighs before he urged you back onto the desk, parting your legs with his torso.
You were breathless, chest heaving, pulse thrumming wildly. His presence consumed the room, and for a moment, it was all you could focus on—the intensity of him, the raw, unfiltered hunger in his eyes.
You stared up at him, mind empty, until—
Smack.
His palm came down on your inner thigh, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a jolt of sensation straight to your cunt. Your skin stung from the contact, but that wasn't the part that made you gasp. It was the heat, the way it surged through your veins, flooding your abdomen in a slow, aching pulse. You liked that.
"I asked you a question." His lips brushed against your ear, breath warm as he leaned in. "Two, actually."
You couldn't think, mind swimming—the press of his body, the rough timber of his voice, the weight of his hands as his fingers teased, climbing higher, brushing closer to the ache between your thighs. You sucked in a breath, trying to recall what he'd asked, trying to focus anything but the fire he was lighting in you—
But then, his fingers slipped further, closer, just barely brushing your slit, and your hips jerked involuntarily, chasing that touch.
"No—I don’t—“ the shame in the answer barely mattered. His fingers were so close, so close. "Gods—I just know I want you—"
"That's all you think about, isn't it?" He smirked, lips falling to your neck, tongue tracing the places he knew would wreck you, each soft, wet press making you whimper despite yourself. "You don't care about anything else..." his fingers slipped lower, dipping between your folds—and you cried out, shameless, the sensation unlike any other you'd ever felt. "…not the consequences, not the risk...you just want me…”
Your nails dug into his back and he sucked in a breath through his teeth, wetting his fingers in your arousal before gliding back up to your clit and tracing over it.
"Oh—Gods—" you whinged, moaning into his shoulder.
Mattheo’s hands were experienced—that much was certain. Those fingers knew exactly how to move, precisely how to trace light, delicate circles over your clit that made you twitch, squirm— nerves stripped as you took in the new sensation. It wracked every inch of you, and you could feel him savouring your helplessness, drawing out every ounce of tension that had been building between you for months.
“You’re soaked.” You could hear the disbelief in his voice. “...filthy little thing for me, aren't you?"
"Gods, Mattheo, yes—" your eyes rolled, thighs twitching against his hand. "I am—ohh—"
"Yeah?" His tongue traced a slow, wet path up the side of your neck, teeth dragging over your pulse. "You like this?"
His words were enough to make you want to scream, but no sound formed—just a low, broken moan that spilled from your throat, raw and shameless.
"Answer me," he murmured. "You ever orgasm from this before? Hm?"
"No—" your voice choked, trembling as you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to look at him, something like shame pooling in your stomach. "Oh, fuck—"
"No, what?" His fingers pressed harder, circles growing faster, more insistent, and his voice—Christ, his voice— "I asked you two questions, little slut. Keep up. You wanted this."
"Yes—mmf—I like it—" you whined, the words a desperate spill from your lips, too flustered to form anything coherent. "And no—Gods—you're the first to...to touch me like this..."
He figured as much but the admission tore through him nonetheless, his teeth sinking into your shoulder with a groan—not enough to hurt, but enough to leave a mark, a bruise, a reminder. His hand dipped lower, a finger pushing inside you without warning, pressing deep into your slick heat, and you cried out, your body tightening, pulsing around him, vision swimming.
"And this?" His voice was a smirk against your skin. "You let anyone else inside you like this?"
You knew he already knew the answer. You both did. He was reveling in it—the way he had you, trembling, helpless. You'd never heard him like this, never heard him so crass, so unfiltered, and the way he spoke made your whole body flush with heat.
"No." The word was a strangled moan, barely a breath. "Gods—Mattheo—you already knew that—"
He crooked his finger inside you, and your back arched, the stretch unfamiliar yet mindnumbing, his thumb working your clit. You felt teeth nipping at your earlobe, a hum into your eardrum—his body thrumming with the satisfaction of finally, finally letting himself have you where he wanted.
"Perhaps I did." He added another finger, curling them inside you, his teeth scraping along your neck in a smile. The groan that slipped from your lips was desperate, pained in its pleasure, your body reacting to every new inch of him. "Fucking hell—you can barely take two..."
Your head shook, words failing you. "Gods—Mattheo—I...fuck..."
A low grunt rumbled from his chest, his fingers moving quicker, slick with the evidence of your desire. "Feels good?"
"Yes—" you moaned, breath hitching, vision blurring as he pumped his fingers in and out, building something inside you that you couldn't name, something new, something overwhelming. "I feel—oh, gods—something...happening—"
"You feel something?" His voice was mocking, drenched in that innocent, teasing tone that had you falling apart. "Yeah? What's happening, princess?"
You couldn't find breath, couldn't form the words to answer him. The pressure inside you was mounting, intensity unbearable, your body tense and straining toward an edge. You clung to him, breathless, desperate for more, desperate for something, anything—
"I don't—" your voice broke as his fingers curled deeper, wetness flooding between your thighs, his thumb relentless. "Pressure—fuck—so much—"
He nodded. "Yeah? Pressure in that pretty stomach? Feels fucking good, doesn't it?"
"Fuck—yes, yes," your lids fluttered. "S’good—"
"You're so close." He watched you, drunk on your downfall, and smirked as you neared the edge. "You're going to cum for me."
Sanity shattered in your throat—words trapped, swallowed by the tension, leaving only the soft, unbridled whimpers you once might've once found embarrassing. But there was no shame now, not when you were this close, the pressure coiling tighter in your core, ready to burst.
"Ohh—" you managed, lungs sputtering, head tipping back. The sound of your voice, the way you moaned, was foreign, unfamiliar to your own ears. "Gods—oh fuck-"
"I know," he cooed, sweet like sugar. "I know."
You were a mess. Too close, too overwhelmed—everything was him. His scent, the heat of his skin, the feel of his fingers working that magic that had your body convulsing before you could even cry out, before you could process the way your vision blurred with the force of it. The climax hit like a wave crashing over you, and your moans were swallowed by his kiss, his lips on yours the second your body tightened, shaking against his hand.
He was relentless, rough and insistent, kissing you like he wanted to devour you whole—drowning out the world as your body pulsed around his fingers. You’d never felt such an intense sensation, lava coursing, replacing the blood in your veins. His breath stuttered against your mouth, a low groan vibrating through him, the sound making your spine tingle.
"F-fuck," he muttered, pulling his fingers from you, glistening and wet. "Messy little thing."
The words sent a shiver through you, not just from their meaning but from the way he said them, like something perverse, intimate. Your chest tightened with the warmth of them.
"You—" you panted, trying to find your voice. Blinking through the haze of lingering bliss. "You can't say things like that."
"Why not?" He chuckled your name against your neck, lips brushing a path to your ear. "Because you might fall in love with me?" His teeth grazed the sensitive spot under your lobe, along your jawline. "Oh wait...you already have."
"Shut up," you whispered, stomach flipping at the way he said your name, the way it dripped from his mouth like honey. "Have not."
"I've known for a while, you know," he mused, his voice so low, so quiet. "Don't think I haven't seen it—the way you look at me." He kissed your skin again, working his way up, each press of his lips something sacred, moving closer to your mouth. "The way you can't get enough of me."
You could kill him for it, for the way his words sunk into your bones, making all the feelings you've buried rise to the surface, pulling you under. He just had to go there—had to milk every inch of your composure out of you, because it's not enough for him to have you disarmed physically—sexually—he needed to have you disarmed emotionally, too.
Perhaps the worst part of it all is how right he was. Arrogant bastard.
"Stop talking," your hand drifted down, grazing the bulge in his pants, your fingers slipping under the waistband, rubbing him through the thin fabric of his boxers. It was reckless. You've never done this before, but God, you wanted to. "Stop talking and teach me."
The room tilted—the world off its axis. His breath caught, choked in his lungs as he grabbed your face and pulled your lips to his—his kiss wild, his tongue insistent, running along your gums and wrestling with yours for control.
"Fuck," he groaned into your mouth as you tugged his boxers down, freeing him, your hand wrapping around him. Hot. Hard. "Wrap your fingers around it, princess. Gentle strokes. Just like that."
Your heart stumbled at the sound of his voice, thick, raw and open. You tightened your grip, stroking him slowly, experimentally, and he hissed through his teeth, a groan vibrating through his chest.
"You're so big," you murmured, forehead against his, the words spilling out without thought. "So thick..."
"Fucking minx," he moaned. "Stroking me and telling me how big I am—fuck—you're not as innocent as everyone thinks."
"Only you know this," you whispered, your hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes, pulse soaring as he groaned. "Does it feel good, Matty?"
"Fuck—Christ—" his breath was jagged, words ripped from his throat like they barely wanted to come out, hips jerking mindlessly. "Tighter, mm—little tighter—"
Your cunt throbbed—each whispered invocation of a god not his own, of something he didn't believe in, forced a shudder through you. That's how you knew. Knew how lost he was. He’d no mind left at all if he was muttering muggle gods.
"Like that?" Your fingers squeezed around him, your gaze burning into his as you looked up through fluttering lashes.
His face was a storm—flushed, eyes half-shut—but at your voice they opened and flicked down to yours, and for once, there was no arrogance, no mockery in that stare. Just raw, primal need, burning so fiercely it made you ache. His hips rocked, desperate for more. Painfully. A hole in his chest torn wide open for you to see, and he didn't care. Couldn't care.
"Yeah—shit—just like that," he gritted out, grip on your hips bruising, but you welcomed it. Needed it. "Fast learner, aren't you?"
"You're a good teacher," you whimpered, a sound that was barely yours as his fingers slipped between your thighs, finding your slit, teasing you open again. "Oh—"
"You've always been a little teacher's pet," he groaned, thrusting into your hand as he slipped a finger inside you. The stretch made you wince, pleasure and pain blurring into something that sent sparks behind your eyes. He watched you, gaze molten. "Fuck—it’s gonna hurt, you know that, right?"
The ache spread through you, but you didn't flinch. "I know," you whispered as his thumb found your clit, making you gasp. "I trust you."
"I know you do." His voice dropped, eyes dark and soft at once as he pushed another finger inside. "You know you’ve always had me wrapped around your fucking finger. You know I care about you—“
His words were too much, pressing on something fragile inside you, and you pulled him into a kiss to shut him up—deep, desperate, drowning. Your hand tightened on his length, the heat between you flaring, and you moaned against his mouth, shaking with the need for more.
"I want you," you breathed, each syllable shivering on your lips as you clenched around his fingers. "I've wanted you for months—"
Months? No, it had been years. Years of wanting, needing, watching from afar, heart in your throat. Years of avoiding anyone else because no one was him. You knew he’d felt the same and it killed him. It wasn't logical, wasn't supposed to be like this—not with you, not now, not his best friend's little sister, not him whispering sweet, dangerous things while knuckle-deep inside your virgin cunt.
It was as if you both shook those thoughts from your minds at once. You’ll think about the implications later.
"You've got me," he rasped, hips grinding involuntarily against your hand. "Just—fuck—don't hate me after this."
Hate him? The very idea was laughable, absurd. You could never hate him. Not even in those moments you tried, not even when he deserved it.
"I could never hate you," you murmured, drawing him closer, lips trembling against his. "Just—please—"
Something shifted in his eyes, and he knew. Knew what you needed. What you both needed. You were vulnerable, trembling, but you trusted him—completely. You’d been in his life for so long. You knew he’d never hurt you. He could see it your eyes, the trust, the in the way your body bent to his touch.
"Alright," he said softly, a hand running up your body to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek. "Alright."
His fingers slid out of you, leaving you bare and breathless, and you swallowed. This was really about to happen.
"Lay back," his voice cut through your haze. "Legs to your chest."
The command wrapped around you like a vice, tightening the anticipation, and you fell back on your elbows, staring up at him as you raised your legs. Vulnerability crept in, making your thighs tense, but Mattheo was there, spreading you open with firm hands, pressing himself against your slick. His eyes were locked onto yours, all that self-assurance gone, melted into something more human—something raw, unguarded.
You could feel it; the vulnerability of this moment stretched between you both—the distance you'd maintained for so long, the careful walls you'd built, were nothing now. He was in too deep, and so were you.
"Stop me at any time," he whispered, his voice a raw rasp, eyes meeting yours. "Just breathe.”
He leaned down until his lips ghosted over yours, and you kissed him like the world might collapse if you didn't. He guided himself against you, the press of him at your entrance an unbearable ache. He was hot, hard, huge—and despite the wetness slicking down your thighs, your body resisted, too tight, too unsure of this.
You whimpered, instinctively trying to pull away, but he stayed, pressing kisses to your hair, your temple, whispering something that sounded like comfort but burned like fire. It hurt more than you expected, more than any of the fantasies you had dared to entertain.
Doubt curled through your chest, what if you couldn't take him? What if—
"M-Mattheo..." his name broke in your throat as you clutched his arm, nails digging into his skin. He tried to push in again, but your body resisted. "It—you—you can't fit..."
"Shh," his lips ghosted over yours, his hand slipping through your hair, trying again, moving slow, controlled. "You're just—so goddamn tight—"
The way he said it sent a spark through your veins. It was filthy, shameless, and it lit you up from the inside, despite the pain. No one had ever spoken to you like this. You swallowed the lump in your throat, tears pricking as he tried to work you open.
And then—he was in.
"I-it hurts," you hissed—pain lighting up your spine as he worked his cockhead inside you, pushing against the resistance of your walls. His breath came in sharp, ragged bursts, each inch a battle. The pressure was unbearable, the sting so sharp it was paralyzing. "Oh, fuck, Mattheo—"
He groaned, a sound from deep within his chest, his head bowing, sweat creeping over his brow.
"Shhh, I know—I know..." he murmured through shredded cords, fighting to maintain control as his hips paused, barely halfway in, just enough to make you feel like you might break. "S'okay...you're doing so good..."
It was overwhelming—the fullness, the ache that felt like it might split you in two. And yet, beneath the pain, something else stirred. His words, soft and rough all at once, made the sensation bearable, turned the hurt into something else. You focused on his voice, on the way he stroked your hair, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
"Why—mmff—gods..." you could barely speak, the words tangled in your throat. "Why do you have to be so big—"
A strangled laugh escaped him, though his eyes stayed shut tight, his jaw clenched—cock twitching inside you.
"I don't—fuck—know." His fingers brushed your lips, covering your mouth gently. "Don't go talking like that—not right now—"
You might have laughed, too, if your body wasn't so taut, strung tight with tension and pain and something far more profound. He was barely inside you, his words making your insides clench, drawing another groan from his lips at the squeeze.
His hand held your jaw, palm pressing lightly over your mouth, enough to breathe, to speak—
"Why—" you knew what he meant, knew the warning in his eyes, but you couldn't stop yourself. "—not?"
His breath hitched. "Because—" he swallowed hard, words coming through gritted teeth, his fingers tightening around your jaw, a warning in his grip. "Because—fuck—your mouth will get you in trouble."
Oh. That was what he meant.
"But—oh fuck—you're so...big..." the words slipped out before you could catch them, a disgruntled moan falling from your lips as he sank all the way in, filling you so completely it was dizzying. The pressure, the heat, the sensation of being pried open—it was all too much, and you cried out, unable to stop the sound from spilling out. "Ohhh—so big—"
"I said, fuck," he cursed, hand clamping firm over your mouth now as his body shuddered, as he ground his hips gently into yours. "—don't say that."
It was too late. You didn't need to say anything further. He could feel it—he could feel everything in the way you clenched around him, barely letting him move—so goddamn tight it was almost painful—he could feel it in the look in your eyes, in the trembling of your body beneath his.
"I can feel you thinking it," he grunted as you squirmed beneath him, every movement making him twitch inside you, drawing another choked groan from his throat. "Merlin sakes—"
You knew he wasn't used to this. To slowing down, to drawing out the tension like this, to the maddening slowness of every motion. He wanted to lose himself, to break you open hard and fast, to take and give and take again until both of you shattered into something unrecognizable. But he couldn't—not with the way your eyes glistened, not with the way you gasped and whimpered as he filled you.
"No talking," he sucked in a breath against your neck, his hips rolling into yours in slow, unbearable waves. "Only if you need me to stop."
He was breaking. So were you. Every thrust was an exquisite kind of torture—an ache that twisted and stretched, dulled only by the flick of his fingers against your clit. His lips pressed along your neck, kissed along the line of your jaw, groaning with each deep, patient push, carving his way into you as you clung to him, your mind floating through the fog of pain into something different—something overwhelming.
Your head fell back. “Oh—Oh gods—“
Each gasp felt like it might be your last as that something built deep inside you, tight and unfamiliar, an ache that didn't hurt but begged to be released. And he felt it too—Mattheo felt it, the way your body pulsed beneath his, the way you tightened around him like you couldn't bear to let him go.
"Bloody fuck—are you—are you going to—" his words were ragged, broken. He couldn't finish the thought, couldn't hold himself together. "Are you—"
“Mattheo—” your voice trembled, a breathless moan as your back arched, pressing into him, your body seeking more. The pain was null now, replaced by an overwhelming pressure, something tight and aching and good—you felt every inch of him inside you, every pulse of his cock as he moved, slow but relentless. “Mattheo—oh gods—”
"Fuck—" he bit down, teeth sinking into your neck as his fingers swirled your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. "You're gonna make me—"
You choked because there was no space for words, no breath for anything but the raw sound of your bodies—moans, gasps, ragged inhales tangled together as you both hurtled towards something inevitable. The light of the moon radiated the man above you and that was all you could register other than the rising crescendo of your climax—something so intense it scared you, almost broke you apart—your body seizing, trembling, as his fingers pressed harder against your clit, as he thrust deeper.
And then, there was only one more blink until you shattered beneath him, the orgasm tearing through you in oceanic motion, muscles clenching around him so tightly he could barely move—and then he was there, too, his body jerking as he groaned into your skin, his release ripped from him in jagged gasps as you milked him without mercy. He slumped on top of you, fingers digging into your skin, the two of you pulsing together in the aftermath, the room spinning, your bodies still trembling from the force of it.
The world was slow to return, the roar of sensations fading into something quieter, softer. The weight of him on top of you was grounding—his forehead pressed against the crook of your neck, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Neither of you moved for a long while, just basked in the silence, kind that settled in after something irrevocable had passed between two people.
And then, Mattheo pushed up, enough to meet your eyes. Your chest ached at the softness inside his own.
“Are you—” he swallowed as he drank you in, the sheen of sweat on your skin, the flushed cheeks. His words hung in the air as if he didn’t know how to finish the question.
“I’m okay,” you nodded, voice hoarse. “I’m good.”
Mattheo nodded too but didn’t move, still buried inside you, just taking you in. Then, gently, he shifted, pulling back with a slow, careful movement that made you wince slightly. The second he’d pulled out, you felt different—more aware of the vulnerability you’d just laid bare, more aware of the line you two had just obliterated into absolute shambles.
“You sure?” he asked, a flicker of something deeper in his gaze—
You nodded again, the smallest smile pulling at your lips, though your heart was still racing, the enormity of it all sinking in.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m sure.”
His jaw tightened, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek.
“This changes everything, doesn’t it?” His voice was barely audible, like he didn’t want to admit it out loud.
Of course he was thinking it too—how could he not? This was no longer something you could pretend didn’t exist, no longer something you could hide behind banter and stolen glances and secret kisses.
“Yeah,” you breathed, fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the tension there, the heat still radiating from his skin. “It does.”
#do you have any idea how much i worship you#i swear your writing makes me fall in love every damn time#and then i need 7-12 days to emotionally recover#fuuuuuuck#this is my favourite mattheo#mattheo riddle x reader
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inner child pac reading
🦀 pile one,,
I know we're used to being super helpful, but it's good to help yourself too. you should always make sure you're okay first. It's important for us to be okay, even if other people don't think so. we should think so. things are gonna be okay for us. they always are. I want to do the things we like. I don't understand why you care about what people think now. I think we should try doing what we like more, even if it's embarrassing. it doesn't have to take a lot of time. it's just good to have fun sometimes. maybe you can get back into some of our old interests if you want?
it seems like this pile had to mature quickly and was overly generous in childhood. this likely led to some people pleaser habits. when the world said "be nice" and "care about others" you took it to heart, but it felt like you were the only one who did. you felt like you had to be the adult in your childhood and care for other people around you. for some of you, you may have had to care for a parental/older familiar figure or your siblings. you're used to changing your words and your personality to be more digestible and gentle because this strong fear of conflict. you were scared of people being mean to you, so you avoided making anyone mad. it was like you were always tiptoeing over eggshells. now, you don't have to, so there's no point in worrying about people who don't worry about you. you'd be doing yourself and your inner child a favor by doing what you want. it might feel wrong to be yourself, but at least try. I won't delve too much into this part, but I believe some people in this pile also dealt with being oversexualized or being hyper sexual at a young age. I think it's important to know you're more than what you can give others for this pile. please also take a break for the love of god.
🐸 pile two,,
It's hard to feel loved if nobody shows you. at the same time, i don't think I'd want to be loved. it seems weird and uncomfortable. I'm not used to it so it's scary. I still wish that someone would care at least. it feels like nobody else cares. I'm really tired of things being silent and boring all the time. I want to do something fun. I want friends but I want to be by myself. people think I'm weird, but I think they're the weird ones. they can avoid me but I wouldn't wanna be friends with them anyway. it doesn't matter if it's lonely, I don't feel less lonely around people anyway. some people think I'm mean. I don't think I'm mean. i heard I look mean or I act mean sometimes, but what if that's just who I am? I don't try to be mean to people. I just don't want people to hurt me.
holy neglect trauma... there's a lot to unpack here 😓 first off, I hope you're alright. it seems like this pile never really learned how to interact with people and is probably still a bit of a people hater. this pile has had to keep strong boundaries and walls on to protect themselves from unfamiliar experiences (being spoken to positively.) if you've never experienced something, it can be scary but you have to stop thinking every little thing is gonna go wrong in your life. it's fine. separate note but I think someone's ancestors are very present here, might want to connect with them if you don't already. you can try to shut down the feelings of loneliness and pretend connection won't help but it does. you're probably not connected with your inner child or you're ashamed of yourself for some reason. trying to be cold won't undo anything or save you from the feelings you're hiding. you'll have to acknowledge them at some point. escapism and forcing ignorance wont help forever. hopefully it'll be sooner than later, but that's your choice. it's okay to be soft, btw.
🐕 pile three,,
I know what I'm talking about. I'm serious. I wish people would take me more seriously. i get good grades, I study hard, I always prove how smart I am. for some reason, people still act like I'm too young and stupid to have opinions or that what I say is just silly, especially with emotions. they act like having emotions makes you a less rational person. some people look down on me for who I am, too. it's not something I can change. whether it's gender, age, or whatever, people always want an excuse to ignore how I feel or what I have to say. I know I'm right though. I don't want us to stop expressing ourselves. I wanna share how I feel to the world.
this pile is extremely opinionated and knows how to share their emotions. this pile is for the "bossy" kids who "should have been lawyers" or "a CEO" according to every adult around them. you were emotional as a child and it was always ignored or joked off as if your feelings were invalid. this pile is definitely natural-born leaders so if you aren't/never have been aspiration-driven or "extra" this pile probably isn't yours. the most healing thing you can do for yourself at this point is speak up. continue to speak about everything. share your opinion more, it's safe now and people will actually take you seriously. be emotional, be too much, be annoying, be talkative, be over-opinionated, be everything you feel like being and don't let anyone talk you out of it. lead your life how you want to. call everything out, even if it means being weird. I definitely feel like some people in this pile had the gifted kid experience or liked to read a lot when they were younger. there's also some unresolved anger that might need to be taken care of. I think speaking up more instead of bottling feelings up will definitely help that, though. you're not stupid or weak for being emotional. just be yourself unapologetically and that's the best thing you can do for your younger self.
#chocoqtelle#tarot#pac reading#free tarot#pick a card#pac tarot#tarot reading#pick a pile#pick a picture#pick an image reading#tarot pac#inner child#nostalgia#childhood#free tarot reading#pick a card reading#pickacard#pick a photo#pick a card readings#pick a card tarot reading#pick a pile reading#pick an image#tarot pick a card#pac#love tarot reading#love pac#love tarot free#love tarot#tarot cards#witchblr
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Morning. For the Friends Au it appears that Winter is trying to reach out to Jaune... and maybe he sees it and it's confusing him as to why.
Does her each out to Saphron and Terra, and seek their advice?
On a side note, great series. Looking to further posts as you have time.
Specialist J.A.
Winter: Specialist Jaune Arc. It has a nice ring to it. Don't you agree?
Jaune: It has a bit of ring to it... But, it's not as special as you're making it sound.
Winter: You should be proud, Jaune: You're the youngest person to ever be accepted as a, Specialist, and the first person of none, Atlasian descent to become one. So, take pride in your accomplishments, Jaune.
Jaune: Okay, being the first none, Atlasian to join the, Specialist doesn't sound like that much of an achievement. But, am I really the youngest member?
Winter: Oh yes, I was twenty when I joined, most others, Specialist were around twenty one as well when they joined. You are nineteen years old; You are the youngest member to ever join the, Specialist!
Jaune: Wait really...? Wait, twenty? Does that mean you're around twenty three then?
Winter: Careful, Arc... You should know better than to ask a lady her age...
Jaune: I-I-I'm sorry! I've just been curious how old are!
Winter: And, why do wish to know that?
Jaune: I was just curious!
Winter: Curious...?
Jaune: Yeah. You have this ageless beauty about you, Winter. So, I've always been curious.
Winter: Ageless beauty...?
Winter: Ahem! So... So what do you think of your new uniform?
Winter changed the topic as she looked away from, Jaune hiding a faint blush threatening to spread across her face. Meanwhile, Jaune looked at his reflection taking in his new, Specialist uniform.
It wasn't what, Jaune had expected, but he loved it nonetheless. It was similar to the uniforms to the rest of the, Specialist work as in style.
Jaune's uniform was more of a long sleeve sweater than a dress shirt. A zipper ran up the middle of it to the high collar. A sleave that ran over zipper to connect to a series of buckle buttons on the side. The front was a vibrant white with red stripes running along the side. The rest was the vibrant deep blue that was commonly found on, Atlasian uniforms.
His blue denim jeans had been replace with black combat cargo pants, giving him extra pockets to store necessary supplies. His boots had also been chaged for more modern combat boots, rather than the surplus boots, Ruby tends to wear. He found the boots quite nice, there was space in the boots he could fit something like a knife in it, perhaps her should do something like that.
Jaune: I didn't expect the blue would fit me so well. I know the red, and white suit me. But, I was never sure of the blue.
Winter: The blue is quite fetching on you; it matches your eyes quite well.
Jaune: Really? T-Thanks...
Winter: Your welcome. So, how does your armour feel?
Jaune: Mmmm... It feels a little tight; I think I need to ask one of the armourers to readjust it for me.
Winter: I see... Well, you can ask the armourers to resize it for you, that shouldn't be a problem for them. In fact, they could forge you new armour if you want.
Jaune: New armour? I know my armour is pretty good as it is, but would I be able to get some of that, Paladin Armour plating if I asked?
Winter: Hmmm...?
Winter: That’s a possibility… You'll have to ask about it.
Jaune: Okay, I'll ask them to remake, Crocea Mors then... It's probably best if I ask for, General Ironwood’s permission first. I suspected considering the metal this is used for your, Paladins its restricted from personal use.
Winter: While I'm not sure about that myself. But, I'm sure he'll agree to it, at least he may eventually let you do that. Once you prove your worth to, Atlas.
Jaune: That's fair. He's already upgraded my gear as is. It feels a little greedy of me to ask for another upgrade.
Winter: So, everything alright with your new uniform, Jaune?
Jaune: My armour is a little snug, but everything else is just fine. But, what's with this sash?
Jaune pulled out a deep rich crimson sash with a white snowflake pattern on the edge of it. Jaune looked at the beautiful needle work before staring at, Winter. She looked away as a small blush crossed her face.
Jaune: Winter?
Winter: I uhh... I got you a gift...
Jaune: A gift?
Winter: Yes, a gift to celebrate you're joining the, Specialist core. I would have gotten you something else, but I wasn't sure what... what you would like...
Jaune ran his thumb across the sash marveling on the smooth fabric, and the intricate detail woven into the snowflake.
His mind wondered at the red sash, he wore, Pyrrha's stash as a memento of her, the gold of his armour was also from her. He worse it keep her close to him. But, maybe...?
Winter: Do you... Do you like it, Jaune?
Jaune's mind was running until he saw a flash of red, and gold in his eyes, his eyes moved up to see the ghost of, Pyrrha looking at him. A smile spread across her face as she nodded her head, and gestured to the sash. Jaune's eyes darted to the crimson sash in his hands before looking back at, Pyrrha, and realizing she was gone.
Jaune smiled as his hands reached down, and grab the sash before wrapping it around his waist. Jaune looked down at the sash, then at it in his reflection. He nodded his head before turning to look at, Winter with a smile on his face.
Jaune: Thank you, Winter, it's beautiful.
Jaune hand pulled on the sash to move it so it ran parrel with his hip, while he was fiddling with it, Winter stepped forward, and readjusted it so it would look better.
Winter: Oh thank goodness... I was worried you wouldn't like it. I rarely get presents for my siblings, I've never gotten one for someone else so I was really... worried...
Winter's rambling was cut short as she finished adjusting, Jaune's sash before standing back up staring directly into, Jaune's cerulean blue eyes, their faces mere centimeters apart.
Jaune: I uhhh...
Winter: Y-Yes...?
Red slowly creeped across their faces before the game of chicken was called to the end as the both turned away,. Brushing away their blushes in the process.
Winter: S-So... did... Did you tell your teammates about you're appointment to the, Specialist's?
Jaune: Uhh... no.
Winter: Do you plan to?
Jaune: They'll find out eventually. Just like when I learned that they forgot to invite me to, Ruby's birthday party the other day.
Winter: What? They did, when?
Jaune: They texted me my invitation when I was about to talk to, General Ironwood about me becoming a, Specialist.
Winter: The message you said was from, 'no one important.'
Jaune: Yep, that one.
Winter: You don't see them as anyone important in your lives now do you?
Jaune: Just returning the favour...
Winter: I see. Well then... Specialist Arc!
Jaune: Sir!
Winter: Are you ready for your first mission as a, Specailst?
Jaune: Yes, Sir!
Winter: Good! You will follow me to the cafeteria where we, Specialist will be holding your initiation!
Jaune: Yes, Sir. May I ask what this incitation process will be, Sir?
Winter: Yes, to survive, Marrows cooking!
Jaune: ...
Jaune: Eh?
Winter: The incitation is just a simple welcome party with food, drink, and cake that we, Specialist have. We're expected to each bring in our own food, hand crafted, or store bought. Marrow insists on bringing his family's chili recipe.
Winter: It taste terrible...
Jaune: Chili? Well... now I'm worried about the surviving bit... Should I bring something?
Winter: If you want to, but you're the guest of honour you don't have to.
Jaune: Why don't I cook something edible then. Something we can all enjoy.
Winter: You can cook?
Jaune: Seven sisters, and not a chef among the lot of them.
Winter: Well then, I'm looking forward to whatever it is you plan to make.
Jaune: When is the party?
Winter: This evening around six.
Jaune: That give me... five hours. I can whip up something nice by then. I best get to it. But, I'm going to change first. Don't want flour on my new uniform now.
Winter: I'll see you later then.
Jaune: till later then.
Winter soon made her way to the exit as, Jaune started unbuckling his armour. As the door opened, Winter stopped to say one last thing to, Jaune.
Winter: Oh, and Jaune...?
Jaune: Yes?
Winter: You... You don't need to call me, Sir, or Specialist Schnee... Just call me, Winter, okay?
Jaune: Okay... Winter...
Winter: Thank you~!
Winter smiled a sweet smile as she left, leaving, Jaune behind dumbfounded as he nervously swallowed.
Jaune: Shit...
Jaune: She does like me...
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Lute was shaking. She hasn't made Adam this made for years. Not some one of the first days he had her soul.
Lute: S-Sir- I- please. H-He made me do it!
Adam: Oh, did he now? Because that's not what I saw. Now. Who's lying? My eyes? Or you? Pick wisely, Lute. I'm not in a very patient mood.
Lute: ...I-I'm lying- I'm so sorry! I just... wanted my soul back-.
Adam: We have a deal. Like everyone else who sold their souls to me. You give me your soul, and I give you something in return. You didn't care enough about your soul, so you bet it. And you lost. When will you understand that!?
Lute cowered: I-I'm sorry- I just... I miss what I had... my power- respect...
Adam looked down at Lute and sighed.
Adam: You know, we can renegotiate the terms of our contract. I've always been open to that. I knew you were I happy, trust me. I even thrived on it. But I didn't think you wanted me gone. I didn't know you were miserable.
Lute: ...I know. I shouldn't have came to you... I accept my punishment... even if that's torture- or being on your nexy victim for your radio show. Just... I'm sorry. I really am.
Adam rolled his eyes and tugged on her chain.
Adam: Just... we'll talk about your terms, shall we? I like my contracts to be happy. Even if your misery is amusing~.
Lute looked up at him: R-Really? You'll look it over- and make changes-?
Adam: Ah- reasonable changed. But yes. Really.
Lowkey want an au where Adam has Alastors' powers.
The tentacles
The eyes
The changing size
The shadows
The sass
The deal making
Him owning Husk and Nifty
The musical numbers
The radio control
The tentacles- have I mentioned that before?
The rivalry with Lucifer
Maybe he replaces Alastor entirely. No Alastor. Only Adam. It's always been Adam.
Thanks for coming to my tedtalk.
Only Adam lol This is good! His Husk and Nifty could be Lute and Peter.
He doesn't have to smile all the time does he?
Yessss, and he plays rock instead of jazz lol And yes of course there is a rivalry lol
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What about the cooking skills of the other ROs? And is Jade cooking for Chris now?
I'll answer Jade's first. She's never had to cook for herself so she sees no reason to start now. She can boil water, or make toast. But if you ask her to fry an egg, expect it to be full of egg shell and extremely runny. If Chris wants a home-cooked meal, then they would need to go to their parent's house which has a personal chef.
❤️Cam is an absolute disaster in the kitchen. He tries, he really does, but it always turns out bad. Either things get burnt or under cooked. His cookies will always be chunky and raw, and his toast will always be charred to the point you risk a tooth. I will say that Cam will show interest in attending a cooking class.
💙 G - A good cook, thanks to their halmeoni (grandmother). She was very adamant about G learning to cook so that they could support themself, or if they had a partner. They're very organized in the kitchen and don't like to be bothered when cooking. But they would make an exception for the right person. You can usually find Kimchi Jjiga in their fridge in the colder months.
💚 Kara - There's a joke that the Clarke family is cursed and can't cook. The same can be said for Kara. The difference between her and Cam when it comes to cooking is Kara thinks she's a good cook. Many of her exes thought it was best to lie to her about her cooking skills, and thus she is quite confident when it comes to cooking…it's just misplaced.
💛 M - They're a foodie, so they can cook well enough. Adequate enough they don't starve, but they don't have the time or patience for complex dishes. M is more often than not stressed about a deadline so you'll usually find them snacking more than eating a proper meal. They could easily make MC some tomato egg stir fry, just let them finish editing first.
💜 Isaac - They're a good cook. Even though Isaac is health conscious, they're weak for comfort food. Especially recipes their mom used to make them. It's their way of staying connected to her even though she's no longer alive. Isaac sets two days of the week to just do meal prep, their fridge is normally stocked with various dishes. So, if MC wants, expect Isaac to be more than ready to teach them a recipe or two.
🖤 Ardent - Amazing cook, the best of the Ro's honestly. His parents own a taverna in Greece. Ardent was expected to help out when he was growing up, either with cooking or serving customers. So, he knows his way around a kitchen. He enjoys cooking for people in general, something about the control he can have in the kitchen while also ensuring people eat well. His baklava is 🔥.
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Other Plans for the Evening
Pairing: Lucanis x Rook
Summary: Scene after the Illario fight, but the way I would have written it. It's not that deep or different, but I think it's better. My Rook but mostly I wasn't specific.
Disclaimer: Whoo first Lucanis fic! I'm still trying to find the DA companions' voices so you might have to bear with me a little bit. This has been in my brain since the MOMENT he said "I have other plans for the evening". I tried to make him that weird mix of awkward and smooth so lmk if I did that or if I need to work on it. Might come back and edit.
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"You came back here just for coffee?"
Rook's voice startled him out of his thoughts.
When he looked up at her, his heart gave a lurch, the same lurch it had given every other time he'd laid eyes on her.
Her hair was damp and sligtly wavy from her bath, still, and she wore leather trousers and a shirt. It was difficult to see in the dim firelight, but he knew the blue of the shirt would be reflected in her eyes, twinkling above the bemused grin she was giving him.
"What, the stuff in that gigantic villa wasn't good enough for you?"
She folded her arms across her chest, eyebrows raised and dimples clearly visible as she grinned down at him. Mercifully, Spite was being quiet for once. He idly wondered if demons ever got tired, or overwhelmed after a long day. Something to ask Emmrich about, perhaps.
"It's better if I make it myself," he said, not quite managing to smile back at her, despite the lightness that smile brought to his chest.
"And besides, I wanted some quiet."
He hated that her smile melted slightly, her shoulders tightening ever so slightly. He doubted anyone else would have noticed, but he did.
"So," she said, "First Talon?"
"First Talon," he said, and if he was honest with himself, it did not fit right in his mouth.
"I still cannot believe Caterina did that."
Lucanis is the new First Talon. His decision stands.
The corner of her mouth lifted slightly, but her fingers tensed where they rested on her arm.
"Does that mean you're leaving?"
Ah.
He almost grinned.
"No," he said simply. "We have a contract. Besides, Caterina might have named me First Talon, but there's no stopping her from giving all the orders."
This time her smile was wider, and she tilted her head to the side so her hair shifted, glinting golden in the firelight. He ached to run his fingers through it.
"You know," she said, her eyes twinkling with laughter again, "You could have said, 'Of course not. I would never leave with you still here.'
Her Antivan accent was good. Too good. It made his chest feel tight whenever she pretended to be him. He grinned back at her despite himself.
"I would never leave with you still here," he said. "You'll have me for as long as I can put off the Crows."
He saw her brow furrow slightly, but she hid it quickly.
Before he could let his nerves interfere, he stood up, setting his half empty cup down on the table as he did.
"I may have had another reason for leaving the party early," he said, letting his voice drop slightly. He saw her eyes narrow, but then she gave him a crooked grin.
"Besides coffee, you mean?"
He walked past her, to the open space between the dining table and the door, and held out his hand to her.
"Dance with me," he said softly.
It was the first time he'd seen her truly taken aback. To his delight, her mouth even dropped slightly open.
"Dance with you?" She asked, as if he'd just asked her to jump into the Fade.
"What?" He asked.
"There's no music. Also, I told you," she said, shoulders tensing again, "I'm a terrible dancer."
She had. Technically she'd told all of them.
You'd have to get me drunk first, I'm afraid, it's mortifying otherwise. I got told I have about four left feet.
"You did," he said, still holding out his hand. "But you also said you loved to dance."
She tilted her head to the side, almost pleading.
"It's only me," he said softly.
"That's what's worrying me," she said, almost too quiet for him to hear, and he remembered that this was as new to her as it was to him.
What would a first kiss taste like?
Like hope.
She held back for a moment longer, then hesitantly, she placed her fingers in his hand.
They were warm, and her callouses scraped against his own as she allowed him to pull her close to him. His heart thumped in his chest, as if it was trying to get to her.
"I don't know how to do this," she said, and he knew she wasn't only talking about the dancing.
"Like this," he said, curling his left hand around her right, and placing the other one on his shoulder.
"Your elbow has to stay up," he said seriously, lifting said elbow so it was almost in line with her shoulder before dropping his hand to her waist. "Caterina would smack me with a cane if I got it wrong."
"If you try and smack me with a cane..." she started, leaving the threat unfinished.
"I couldn't find one," he said. She tried to hide a grin, but her dimples gave her away, and suddenly those hours with Caterina and her cane seemed worth it to him.
"Now," he said, "step back with your right foot."
She did, looking at her feet, and he followed, relishing the warmth of her hand on his shoulder, the way his hand fit perfectly on her waist.
"Back and to the left with the other."
She did so, and he followed.
"Now bring your feet together, and do the same with the other foot."
They went slowly, and he enjoyed watching the crease between her eyebrows as she concentrated.
Gently, he let go of her waist so he could tilt her face up to his own.
"You should look your partner in the eyes," he said, aware that his voice had dropped lower, but not really caring, "Not where you are going to step."
"And if I step wrong?" She asked, her voice slightly breathy. It felt like soft fingers tracing their way down his spine.
"Trust me to guide you," he replied, his hand going back to her waist.
The corner of her mouth curled up ever so slightly.
"Alright," she said. "I trust you."
As they moved slowly through the room, the firelight caught her eyes and hair, gilding her in gold and taking his breath from him. In fact, breathing felt suddenly like a very big effort.
"What is it?" She asked quietly, almost as if she was scared he would run if she spoke too loudly. He wasn't too certain he wouldn't.
"You are so beautiful," he said, before he could think about it too much, though his voice was markedly less smooth than it had been.
Her eyes, her beautiful, sparkling eyes, widened slightly.
"Really?" She asked.
"Would I ever lie to you?"
She smiled. It was small and soft this time.
"No one's ever called me that before," she whispered.
"Good," he managed to whisper back. "I would have to kill them."
And she laughed. By the blood of the Maker, she laughed and every terrible moment up until just then seemed as though it had a purpose.
"There's that smile," he said, when her laughter died down.
"Yours too," she replied, still grinning happily at him.
"Thank you, Rook," he found himself saying.
"You don't need to thank me."
She leaned in slightly, mischief in her eyes.
"For you, it's on the house."
His stomach tightened slightly when she did the accent, but he tried his best to ignore it.
"Did Illario hurt you?" He asked. "I'll skin him if he did."
She touched the scratch on her neck from Illario's, thankfully unpoisoned, blade.
"A scratch," she said dissmissively. "He hurt my pride more than anything else."
They moved for a few seconds in silence while he waited for her to ask the obvious next question.
"Do you regret..."
"Giving him a chance?"
He'd been thinking about it since they had left Villa Dellamorte.
Didn't you tell me he was basically your brother and your closest childhood friend?
"No," he said. "You were right. He's family."
Family. The word tasted sour in his mouth.
"I didn't even suspect him," he said. "When the Venatori caught me on the boat in Tevinter, it never even crossed my mind."
Almost without meaning to, he brought her right hand to his heart, his fingers tightening over hers. She lay her head on his shoulder as he pulled her closer, a solid weight against him. A comfort, for the first time in his life.
"He's better than I thought," he said, absently resting his cheek against her head. Her hair smelled of lightning, and a faint, almost unnoticeable trace of honey. "Maybe there is hope for him yet."
She snorted a soft laugh through her nose, making him grin. It vanished quickly, though.
"But this wasn't a mercy. Being watched by all the Crows, with their knives out? He will never live down being the Traitor Crow, brought down in front of everyone. There is nowhere he can run."
"I was surprised you listened to me," she said. He felt her breath tickle his neck, involuntarily clutched her closer against him.
"So was I," he said. "But... I don't have a lot to lose. What there is... Caterina, this team... you, even my idiot cousin. I'm not giving that up."
She stopped moving, lifting her head up to look at him. She wore the softest smile he'd ever seen on her face.
"What's that look?"
"You have a big heart," she said softly, "For an assassin."
He tried to look away at the tone of her voice, at the emotion in it, but she gently turned his face toward her again.
"That's not a bad thing," she said.
"If it brought me here," he said, taking her hand again and kissing it on a whim, "To this moment with you, then it cannot be a bad thing. I just... I cannot believe he would do all of this, only to be First Talon."
She frowned up at him.
"He said you didn't want to be First Talon."
"I don't. But how am I supposed to trust him with it now? How is anyone? The funny thing is, he might have finally proven he has the abillity for it."
"Right before getting humilliated in front of everyone," she said, grinning slightly.
"Exactly."
He sighed, though it came out as more of a frustrated growl.
"Fucking Illario."
"Hey," she said, gently reaching up and smoothing out the crease between his brows. The gesture made his chest ache.
"We'll work it out," she said softly. "Together. But for now... "
He took her hand again, holding it to his chest so she could feel his heartbeat.
"Just be here with me," she said. "Just for a little while."
"I can do that," he said. "For a little while."
She smiled, and he could see the day was starting to get to her, the tiredness starting to reach her eyes.
"Rook..." he started, not sure what he was going to say, but needing to say something before his chest caved in on itsself. She cut him off before he could.
"Shhhh," she said gently, kissing him for a long moment before laying her head back on his shoulder. He forgot, sometimes, that he could kiss her. Usually, Spite was there to remind him, with enthusiasm. It scared him, how much he ached to feel her lips against his own.
"Don't ruin it."
So he held her close, and kissed her forehead, and later he let her fall asleep on his lap in the chair, savouring the way she held on to his hand even in sleep, and finally letting his fingers run through her hair, softer than silk against his skin.
#i suck at writing smut so this is decidedly not that#but the lack of a tender scene at this point really pissed me off BIOWARE THEY WERE LITERALLY AT A PARTY HOW COULD YOU NOT LET THEM DANCE#rookanis#rook x Lucanis#dragon age#lucanis dellamorte#my writing#lucanis fic#lucanis dellamorte fic#dragon age the veilguard#veilguard#datv#datv fic
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