#the healing power of quiet cuddles

[kootiepatra]

Wolmeric Week 2024 - Day 1: Holiday

Have too many angles of them. Because I care they, and they deserve a break.

#wolmeric nonsense #wolmeric week 2024 #wolmericweek2024 #wolmeric week #aymeric de borel #aymeric x wol #wolmeric #keimwyda sylbdhemwyn #femroe #the healing power of quiet cuddles

[jazeswhbhaven]

🤍Domestic Life with Lucifer 🤍

✨Morning routines consist of waking him by gently stroking the back of his head. Humming any kind of song helps.

✨He doesn't eat much for breakfast but Buer taught you how to brew his favorite tea. A single piece of toast works for him if you want him to eat a little.

✨When it's a quiet day in Paradise Lost, he likes watching you do various hobbies around the palace.

✨On busy days, he's not around so you occupy yourself by "babysitting" Gamigin. He thinks he's watching over you but it's the other way around 😅

✨Luci appreciates it when you clean, but doesn't expect it all the time. He finds it amusing that you even want to do mundane things like that.

✨Bed rotting is something he fully supports. He'd be with you in fact if it weren't for the fact he has duties

✨Luci can't sleep comfortably on his back, so you invest ina specialized pillow for him to help with side sleeping

✨His wings still ooze a bit, so you wrap them and clean them daily. he's gotten used to the sting of antiseptic, but it's mostly Gamigin's staff that helps with the bulk of healing.

✨You noticed he has a habit of biting food items first to test it. Even ice cream.

✨He doesn't admit it, but he likes it when you lay your head on his chest and cuddle against him. He feels if he told you he liked it he would be spoiling you.

✨There are other ways he spoils you though. Patting your head, shoulder rubs, absent staring. Being in the same room. Also making sure all of your needs are met.

✨He uses his power to make one of his nobles go fetch an item for you, even if it's in a different realm.

✨Forehead kisses are safe for him, but be careful that he might have the urge to bite you still. he can't help it.

✨When there happens to be loud noises around him, you've invested in noise cancelling ear buds for him. He may not kill someone over it but it still bothers him when it's not Gamigin making noise

✨He likes it when you call him your pet name of choice (using angel tho is a bit touchy, you'd have to talk it over with him)

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb lucifer #whb fluff #fluff headcanons #domestic fluff

[theendisneat]

Arranged Marriage [pt.1.3 (The In-Between)]

Pairing: Zhongli x gn!reader

Warnings: Mild blood, mild sexual content, injury, semi-graphic depiction of illness

“Why is it so difficult for you to dodge?” You muttered, stitching another of your husband’s wounds. “I mean, you’re a martial god, your prowess is second to none, yet you couldn’t dodge the very visible spear heading your way?”

The stab wound on Morax’s side was already beginning to heal, you could tell, but your hands needed something to do to cover their shaking. You settled for cleaning and disinfecting the wound, stitching it up and slathering it in salve before wrapping gauze tightly around his abdomen.

“The spear was not entirely visible-”

At the sight of your unimpressed stare, Morax fell silent.

You sigh, finishing the bandages. You move to stand in front of him, tenderly cupping his face, bringing his forehead to your own. “Honestly, it’s almost like you go looking for fights that present a struggle. With how little you care about your own well-being you’d better be happy that I learned the medicinal arts. Just because you’re a powerful being does not mean you should be tanking damage!”

His hands fall to your waist. You felt his clawed fingernails dig into your sides. “I will abstain from being so careless next time-”

“Next time?!”

“And I will train proficiently in dodging to avoid this scenario from repeating.” He said it with such determined assurance you couldn’t help but sigh, your eye twitching from stress.

“I suppose that’s the best I can ask for. I’m not even going to bother with ‘be more careful’.” You poked his nose, his eyes crossing to focus on your finger. “But you’re not going into another battle until that wound is completely healed, and you better not try to speed it up! I’ll know.”

“That is acceptable.” His hands circle your waist bringing you into a hug, his head resting on your shoulder, nuzzling the crook of your neck.

You stood between his legs, arms crossed as you refused to hug him back. “I am still mildly annoyed at your recklessness, why do you think you get cuddles?”

“Because no matter how angry they are, my spouse always relents to cuddles.” Morax muttered, almost petulantly.

“You are very lucky this situation was not worse.” You grumble but relent, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and bringing him closer. With his chest squished to your own, your necklace tapped between, you could feel the slow thumps of his heartbeat.

-

It’s a quiet morning. The surrounding gardens of you and your husband’s abode sway with a pleasant, cool breeze. Flowers tremble, leaves dance. The water rustles ever so slightly, the little fish swimming in slow loops, playfully chasing after each other.

A blanket is spread beneath you, soft and thick, padding your knees and you kneel behind your sitting husband. Your fingers brush through his hair, detangling it from the top of his head to where it falls to his waist. Your hand goes to the pile of little flowers by your side, carefully, you chose one and braided it into Morax’s hair.

He sat still as you continued, flower after flower, until his head looked like an avant-garde mess of petals and intricately woven braids. Thin strands of hair you couldn’t tie back fell to frame his face, softening his sharp, draconic features.

“Very pretty.” You murmur absentmindedly from behind him, and he felt something swell within his chest. A light dust of pink coated his cheeks and didn’t restrain the smile on his lips.

-

“Stay away from me!” His voice was low, a shaking, snarling, timber. His lips were pulled back over his sharpened teeth, eyes slitted and bright gold. The small horns that normally rested on his head had branched out like antlers, the tips as pointed and deadly as a dagger.

He was crouched over, his hands pressed against the ground and legs behind him in a distinctly inhuman, animalistic position. Brown scales with a gold shimmer came in patches along his bare torso, a whipping tail of similar color with a puff of gold fur at the end sprouting from just over the waistband of his pants.

Something had happened out in the field, what, you didn’t know, but it left your husband stumbling home, unable to keep his cool, practically exploding with rage as he walked through the threshold. At first you were thoroughly startled, flinching when a bang echoed throughout the house and Morax fell to the ground in your living room, writing as if in pain.

Now you stood a few feet away from him, a tight curl in your chest. “Morax, just tell me what’s wrong, let me help you.”

“Get away!” He growled. “It’s an enhancer! It aggravates all my primal instincts as a dragon.” He groaned, his forehead falling to rest against the cool floor. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous Morax! If your primal instincts are being enhanced, don’t you think that as your spouse you’d feel protective towards me instead of angry? The fear of hurting me and the irritation towards the situation are clouding your mind. You need to calm down.” You sit on the ground, your legs crossed, and wave your hands. “Come on.”

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes gleaming unsurely, but relents and crawls over, his claws making little indents in the floors. You hold your arms out and he slots himself in your lap. His head goes over your shoulder, something you’re glad about as it keeps the antlers out of your face, his arms around your waist, and his legs hanging over your thighs.

His breath is heavy, hands shaking, and you know he’s trying to keep any lingering anger under control, trying to funnel the emotion into protectiveness, joy, anything that would keep him from harming you.

You buried one hand in his hair, gently scratching his scalp, and the other went around his waist so you could hold him close. His chest rumbled with aggravated growls and his hands were tense from trying not to dig them into your delicate flesh. “I’ve got you.” You whispered soothingly. “I’ve got you.”

“Sing… for me.” He managed to choke out, his heavy breath hitting your neck. “Your voice… it helps.”

“Morax, you know I’m not a good singer.”

“Please.” You looked down to see his head resting limply against your shoulder, nose pressed to your neck, with wide, blown out eyes. He looked miserable, uncomfortable, and almost… scared.

“Alright, alright.” You tilted your head so it was leaning on his. “My love, my love, my fearless love…”

-

The dark night sky contrasted greatly with the warmth of your bedroom. Surrounded by dark browns and golds, the warm glow of the candles bouncing off the walls. You and your husbands were wrapped in the heavy blankets of your bed, winter chilling you to the bone.

You snuggled close to Morax, constricting yourself around him like a boa as you attempted to soak up his warmth. But his body was lukewarm at best and it seemed that any warmth that existed between the two of you was being given to him.

“Why are you not warm?” You groan. “You are a dragon.”

“I am a reptile, my love. That’s not how my body works.” Your husband mumbles. His eyes drooping and hair splayed across the pillows haphazardly was a wonderful sight and yet you couldn’t enjoy it as a shiver wracked your body.

Finally, having had enough you got out of bed. Going to the kitchen, you filled several cylindrical glass bottles full of warm water and wrapped each bottle of a thick towel. Carrying them all back to bed, you swiftly yanked all the pillows off. Your husband stayed perfectly still, his breath shallow but even, as you secured the bottles around the bed and then covered them in blankets. After tucking the blankets around the bottles and Morax, you shimmied into the bed yourself, sighing contently when you could feel the warmth from the bottles near your feet begin to sink into the sheets.

Snuggling into Morax, you brought one of the many fur blankets up to his shoulder. “Better?”

“Much.” He breathed out.

With that, the both of you were able to fall into a restful sleep.

-

A flash of green and black smoke interrupted your reading. Looking up from your book, you saw a man you knew wasn’t as young as he appeared. Green hair falling in feathered cuts, golden eyes sharp and attentive, and the stance of someone ready to fight at all times.

He was at your wedding, looking particularly indifferent about the circumstances, but you had never spoken to him directly. Now he stood in front of you.

“Where is Rex Lapis?” Despite being so small and young looking, his voice was fairly raspy.

“Ask nicely.” You closed your book and set it to the side, placing your hands in your lap and looking at him expectantly.

His cheeks fluttered as he clenched his teeth and his eyes narrowed. He gave a shallow bow and spoke, his tone more agreeable. “I’m looking for Rex Lapis, have you seen him?”

You smile. “He’s not here.” Seeing the Adeptus’ eyes flash you chuckled. “But he will be soon, so sit down. I’ll get you something nice.”

Not wanting to disobey orders from his master’s spouse, he kneeled down in front of the low table, his back stiff and face blank.

You went to the kitchen and grabbed a treat you had been saving for yourself, but didn’t mind sharing. You placed it in front of the Adeptus. “Here, it’s not too sweet. Very pleasant. My mother taught me how to make it when she was still alive.”

Hesitantly, he began to eat, his face still blank. “It is good.”

“Thank you. It’s called almond tofu. You can enjoy it while we wait for my husband to get here.” You kneeled down on the opposite side of the table and once again, picked up your book. The atmosphere was quiet, yet not oppressively silent. The both of you enjoyed the quiet time together until Morax came home and looked upon the scene with confusion.

-

You cried as your coughed up blood, the thick liquid plopping into the bucket that had been placed by the bed. Your body shook, covered in a thin sheen of sweat as your breath rattled horribly in your chest. You flopped back down on the bed, arms too weak to hold you up and the fuzz around your eyes only growing.

Morax was by your side. His fingers threaded through your hair in an attempt to comfort you. He could only watch as his lover fell apart, watch as their body slowly grew thinner, as they stopped eating or moving or smiling. It pained him greatly to see the state they had been brought to because of this illness. He was only lucky that his Adeptus body was not affected by human illnesses and thus could stay by your side with no fear of contracting it himself.

You rolled over, and even though it felt like it had taken too much energy, and draped yourself over Morax. Despite being sweaty, and at risk of coughing up blood again, your husband didn’t push you away, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close for you to soak up the coolness of his body.

“Morax… Morax… the medicine, when will it be ready?” Your muttering sounded almost delirious, breathy and disconnected. A glaze settled in your eyes.

“Soon, my love. The doctor is saying that this illness is rather difficult to deal with and has to create a new medicinal formula to aid you, but he’s positive that he’ll be able to do it. You’ll be just fine soon enough.”

-

Clawed hands slid up your trembling legs, slightly digging into the plump flesh. A long, slitted tongue infiltrated your mouth, filling your head with cotton as it explored from behind your teeth to the back of your throat.

Your gasps between kisses were heady and your hands were clingy, nails sinking into the hard contours of his back, his hips grinding against yours. His touch was intoxicating, filling your mind till all you could think of was him.

Even in his neediness, he was gentle, his claws not daring to rip off clothing as he slowly peeled you bare, until you laid before him like a newly bloomed flower. Your face was red, chest heaving with gasping breaths after you had just been kissed senseless. With no time to think, hot kisses, more akin to bites, trailed down your neck, sharp canines teasing you, and you couldn’t but wish they would clamp down and give you a pretty bruise to admire later.

You couldn’t take the slowness. Hooking your knee around his waist, you used all your body weight to flip the two of you over. Now, sitting on his stomach, hands pressing down on his chest, you got a good look at how debauched your husband was. Eyes blown so wide there was only a ring of amber around the pupil. His hair was messy, knotted from your tight grip, and there was a dark blush high on his cheeks.

Your hands trailed all over his body. From his face down to his neck, chest, arms, and pelvis. He was sensitive, you realized, as he shivered pleasantly with each graze of your fingertips, head tilted back, leaving his neck free.

Unlike Morax, you had no reservations about how much your husband could take. While he was constantly worried about harming you with his draconic features, you couldn’t share the same concerns. You sucked harsh kisses to his neck and left your husband mottled with red bruises slowly darkening and little indents from your teeth. A particular bite behind his ear had him moaning, his hands clenched around your waist.

Overcome with adoration, you nibbled on his ear, whispering praises and various forms of ‘I love you’ that had him melting into a pile of goo, a lovestruck smile on his face.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #zhongli x you #zhongli x reader #zhongli #rex lapis #genshin xiao #fanfic #injury #mild smut

[unfortunately-obsessed]

Bruce Wayne | Quality Time

Love languages headcanons

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader

Word count: 0.6k | AO3 link 🩵

This man runs a whole conglomerate, dozen different charity foundations, has to play into whatever current political ploy is to earn information, (might have, like, 20 children), is a founding member of the JL, on top of being The Batman and trying to prevent Gotham from imploding – trying to make this unfixable city heal.

He nearly doesn't have enough time for himself – heavens know how many times Alfred shoot him with a horse tranquilizer – and time to you??

All his responsibilities are half the reason why quality time is his love language.

The other half is that he didn't have enough time with his parents. They were snatched from him, a child, and this time (his childhood) is something he'll never be able to have back

Not gonna lie, he's harsh. He won't prioritize you. Not on purpose, not because he doesn't love you, simply because there's people out there that need to be saved. And, after so much time without a proper relationship, maybe Bruce also doesn't know how to cater for you – and because he's way too awkward, too dense to a detective, even if he can play cool at times.

But the tiny things are like love letters:

Strikes to me as the guy that'll be in utterly destroyed, broken ribs and concussion, and still try and get up and have breakfast with you, just to be with you

His personal quiet time is important to him. It helps him organize his thoughts. Yet he'll try to be, at least, in the same room as you.

Bruce will sit on the same room as you, in complete silence, and stay. Maybe you're working and he is there on the couch of your office, sitting with a concussion and sixty percent painkiller, statue-quiet.

I love you, so I'll take the burden of not doing this super important other thing – like resting – to sit with you in silence.

Will stare at you, motionless.

Eventually, you'll learn that this face he's making is lovestruck-ness. Don't comment on it.

And if his love language is all about undivided attention, it means he'll learn how to organize his time to have together time without all the distractions. A walk around the Manor Garden, a quiet dinner in front of the tv, cuddling; might do the trick.

Stays awake to talk with you, even if it's after a case frenzy where he didn't sleep for a week. Crash with him in the couch after a long day.

If I could stay with you here forever, I would. He can't get this words out, a lump on his throat, so he just stay as long as he can

Can't tell me he won't marathon Grey Ghost with you. At the end of every episode will dump on you all the details about the production. It's important that you listen even if you don't find it all interesting. Connection bids, y'know?

Ask him about forensics if you want to know more about the whole Batman deal. Or explain the new additions to the batmobile.

Getting to explain something he loves to someone he loves counts as top-quality time in Bruce's books.

Sometimes will find you just to start explaining a current case he can't crack. Either to see if you have any intelligent idea, but mostly because saying it aloud helps thinking.

And he doesn't know how to have the steady heartfelt conversations, so he'll listen to you talk. About your day, your plans, how much you worry about him, about what you ate today.

A great listener. Will hit you with follow up questions so you can keep talking about what you love. Never talks about him but at this point you know the drill – you have to ask for him to talk.

Regular week preplanned dates. Will do all in his powers to not postpone it. Will be completely heartbroken when this inevitably happens. Will look like a kicked puppy.

He's not distracted with you, all his mental attention on you and you only.

That's it 👍

A/N: If you like what I do, please consider supporting me and buying a coffee!

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne headcanons #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne imagine #batman scenarios #batman imagine #Batman x reader #bruce wayne #batman #arwrites #lost consciousness and woke up with this #me!batman

[girls-alias]

The Silent Type - Dean Winchester

Title: The Silent Type - Dean Winchester

Words: 1,325

Relations: Dean Winchester X Reader (Somewhat platonic)

TW: Swearing, arguing, violence.

Prompt:

I saw the clip of Sam arguing with John and it triggered me. 😂

I rolled my eyes as I approached the arguing boys. We were stood at the side of the road as Sam screamed at John. The truth is I feel the same. John has been nothing but a pain in the ass since he turned back up. He seems to tolerate me because I'm naturally quiet. I've been hunting with Sam and Dean for a while now. I was hunting with Dean for a little while before Sam came back from Stanford.

Dean and I have a unique bond. A medium we were talking to said we were soul mates or twin flames. I don't really understand it but I feel it. I love Dean. I love him more than I love anything and I don't care if I never get to kiss him, I will be happy if he's smiling. The real smile that normally only I can give him. I know he feels it too, we openly tell each other we love each other and Sam still, even after almost two years, doesn't know if we're dating. To be honest, I don't think me and Dean know sometimes. We do couply things, like dates and cuddling and constantly being together but we don't kiss or have sex. It's just weird but I'm comfortable in it.

I think Dean and I work so well because I know I can tell him anything and he can tell me anything. I know all about his past and he knows all about mine. We seem like we can read each other, I always know how he's feeling even when we're apart. The time that came to mind was intense. I had woken up in the middle of the night, nothing had disturbed me, I hadn't had a nightmare I just woke up. Quick and startled. I was staying in a motel away from the boys while a wound healed. I called Dean instantly, and as soon as he answered I knew he was crying. We stayed on the phone all night. He told me everything that had upset him and I reassured him and calmed him down until he fell asleep on the phone to me.

Dean seemed to look at me as he stood beside Sam and John. He looked fed up with the argument, wanting it to be over. I sighed softly knowing they weren't hurting each other they were hurting Dean. I listened in as anger started to rise inside me that they were upsetting Dean. Dean seemed to glance at me, somehow knowing I was growing angry. He studied me a little before being distracted by the argument. Dean's afraid of me when I'm angry.

It's rare I ever get angry but when I do I'm the silent type. I don't scream or make threats. I stay silent until something knocks me over the edge and once I'm over the edge I usually am blacked out angry until Dean stops me. Dean learned slowly that he was the only thing that calmed me down, he had always been afraid to approach me when I was that angry but now he knows he can wrap his arms around me and I'll calm down within a second. He just has power over me and he says I do the same. He can be on the verge of having a mental breakdown but if I walk into the room he forgets about it. His mind goes completely blank.

I listened as Sam shouted at John, his anger coming out with ease as he raised his voice and his words were laced with venom.

"Last time we saw you, you said it was too dangerous to be together. Now out of the blue you need our help." Sam explained getting his anger started. "No, obviously something big is going on and we want to know what's going on," Sam shouted, not backing down. My eyes glared at John waiting for his response, Dean growing annoyed and upset by the argument.

"Get back in the car," John instructed but Sam almost scoffed.

"No," He exclaimed but John's jaw clenched.

"I said get back in the damn car," John threatened standing closer. Sam didn't back down.

"Yeah, and I said no," Sam said, the venom in his tone almost suffocating the air.

"Yeah, alright. You made your point tough guy. Look, we're all tired, we can talk about this later," Dean explained before forcing himself between them and pushing Sam back forcefully. I couldn't move as my anger seemed to paralyse me.

"This is why I left in the first place," Sam muttered under his breath.

"What did you say?" John asked annoyed, and approached them. My body moved without thinking, staying beside John.

"You heard me," Sam bit back.

"Yeah, you left. Your brother and I needed you and you walked away- You walked away," John argued, his voice raising as his anger escaped him.

"You're the one who said don't come back, Dad. You're the one who closed that door. You were just pissed off that you couldn't control me anymore," Sam shouted, they quickly gripped each other. Ready to start hitting. Dean forced his way between them.

"Stop it! Stop it. That's enough," Dean shouted as he managed to pry them off each other.

"I didn't raise you like this," John commented. I didn't have to look at Dean to know how he was going to be looking. His sorrow clouded his eyes, hurt furrowing his eyebrows, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he begged it not to quiver, tears threatening his eyes. I saw red.

I punched John in the side of the face. His cheekbone was possibly fractured from the force. Adrenaline spiked to the point I was blacked out, doing things without thinking. John hit the floor with a thud, holding his cheek as he looked up at me startled.

"You didn't raise him, Dean did. Dean did everything for both of you." I boomed, standing over John as he started to look at me annoyed but fear was in his eyes. "You ever disrespect Dean like that again and next time I won't hold back." I threatened, spitting the words as if the thought of it sickened me. "Either apologise to Dean, the man who was a child and was still a better father than you. Or get up and drive away before I'm cleaning your blood off my boots." I practically growled.

"You think I'm scared-" He couldn't finish his sentence as I raised my foot, soon bringing it down on his balls to squeeze them between my boot and the gravel road. He squealed, grunting as he seethed in pain.

"That wasn't an apology," I instructed, He gulped, and glared at me as he breathed quickly, anger rising in him. He looked at Dean, and I could see him smirking proudly beside me.

"I'm sorry, Dean." He said simply but I pushed my boot down a little harder. He exclaimed in pain quickly. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I left you to raise Sam. I'm sorry I've been a shitty father. I appreciate everything you've done for this family." John rushed. I looked at Dean, and he bowed his head to me letting me know he was happy with the response. I lifted my foot, taking a step away from John.

"Get up, you look pathetic," I spat, rolling my eyes as I walked away to get back in the Impala. Dean rushed to hug me from behind. I melted into the hug instantly. My whole body calmed and I felt safe in his arms. He spun me around to face him, cuddling me back into his chest. I smiled as I hugged him back, his scent intoxicating me.

"I love you," He whispered as he kissed the top of my head. I smiled a little brighter at his words. We really were made for each other.

Masterlist

Working On

#fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean #dean winchester fic #platonic #y/n #anger issues #anger #overprotective #twin flame #soulmates #i love you

[cozage]

Hi I reallllly love the way you wrote the reader with healing powers and I was wondering if I could take you up on your offer of continuing it?✨💖

A/N: A sweet (and lil angsty) HC list for how they’d react to your powers after initially finding out about them

Characters: F! reader x Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, Ace

Cw: Ace and Law’s hold a lot of angst. All of them are a little angsty but Ace and Law have a significant amount. 

Total word count: 1.3k

First part :) 

The Pain of Healing Part 2

Zoro

Zoro isn’t the kind of guy to tell you what you can and can’t do. His lover isn’t weak, and he knows that you know your limits, so he never stops you. But he does keep a close eye on you, especially during battles.

He’s probably one of the few people who actually understand your pain and your sacrifice, and he understands what an insult it would be to ask you to stop doing that. 

You all do have a mutual understanding though: he won’t stop you, and you won’t heal him. Your secret is safe for him, as long as you don’t use it on him.

He cares for you in small, quiet ways. He massages your sore muscles after a hard healing, and cuddles you extra close on the tough nights.

Whenever he sees a crewmember feeling particularly good after a fight, he wanders off to find you. He always picks you up without another word and carries you back to the ship, letting you sleep. He’ll tuck you into bed and leave you to sleep the pain away. He might crawl into bed with you, but you usually sleep better without him in moments like this.

He’s proud of you and what you’re willing to do for the crew, but a small piece of him is afraid that one day you’ll do too much, or something bad will happen to you because you went too far.

Sanji

Sanji has to bite his tongue when he sees you using your powers. 

You agree to his request not to heal him anymore, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he realizes his wounds aren’t healing quickly without you. But when he notices other crew members wounds healing quickly, he gets a bad feeling in his stomach.

“My love?” he finally asks one day. “Do you heal others the way you used to heal me?”

“Sometimes,” you say. “When they need it, or whenever I can help.”

He hates that. He hates that you're being hurt, but he knows it’s not his place to critique your decisions, so he bites his tongue and he massages your body and after you’ve fallen asleep, he holds you and he cries for your pain, wishing he could take your pain away just like you can to others. 

He doesn’t stop you though, or tell you that he thinks it’s a bad idea. You can see it in his body language whenever you talk about it, but both of you ignore it. 

Luffy

Luffy doesn’t ask for healings anymore, but he never turns you down when you ask him. 

When you find little cuts and bruises along his body, you ask him if you can heal it. He always gives you a wide smile and nods, fascinated by how your powers work. 

He also knows it's a form of love you give him, and that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

He honestly doesn’t think too much of him “causing you pain”, even though nobody else on the crew will let you help them. Luffy knows you wouldn’t offer if you didn’t want to do it. He doesn’t ask for healing, but if you’re offering then he doesn’t mind saying yes.

The only time he will turn you down is when he’s in a battle and he knows how badly he’s wounded. He always claims he wants to beat the enemy on his own merit, but really he’s afraid of how much you’ll be hurting at his expense. 

He’ll turn down your requests for a few days after battle, waiting for his bruising to go down and his cuts to start healing before he accepts your help. He only wants you to help with the little things, he doesn’t want to cause you actual pain. 

Law

He waits for you to recover before he brings up your powers again. When you’re finally feeling okay enough to sit up, he pulls up a stool and puts his best “I’m-Your-Doctor-Not-Your-Boyfriend” face on. 

“I don’t want you doing that again,” he said sternly. “Ever.”

“That’s not your call to make, Law,” you say sternly back.

He sighed, knowing what was coming. And it did. You all snapped at each other, arguing back and forth. Both of you were stubborn, and neither of you would yield in your stance. 

Finally, after an hour of arguing, you lay back on the bed and turn away from him. You’re tired of fighting and tired of sitting up for so long. 

“I just need you safe,” he said. “You’re going to overdo it and hurt yourself one day, and I can't-” his voice breaks, and you feel the guilt of making him hurt. 

You turn back over to face him, trying to offer a compromise. “I’ll only do it when it’s necessary, okay?”

He nods at that, seeming to contemplate your offer. “And when I’m around,” he added. 

“Law,” you warn. You know that's not a fair compromise, and so does he. 

“Fine. Only when it’s necessary.” He doesn’t like it, and neither do you, but it’s the best you’re going to get. 

He scowls when he sees you using it or when he sees your body weakened by the aftermath of it, but he never complains or argues. He has to admit, you do well to hold true to your end of the promise, so he never pesters you about it anymore. 

Your powers just kind of acts as this thing neither of you are super thrilled about, but you tolerate for the other person. It’s better not to acknowledge it, even if he is really curious on how it all works

Ace

You and Ace fight over this topic. A lot. The first time was when Marco came to you, letting you know that Ace had talked to him about your powers. 

You stormed off to find him, and a major fight ensued. Ace didn’t want you to be hurting yourself for other people’s mistakes, and you wanted to help people whenever you could. 

It’s a tense topic of conversation, something you all just choose to avoid discussing after a while, because every time it inevitably leads to a fight. 

Ace didn’t tell people, but he did ask your division commander to keep an eye on you in battle. “She’s been acting a little rash,” he’d say. “I’m worried about her.” Your commander came to ask you if you were okay, worried about your mental health. You had no idea what he was talking about, and he told you about Ace’s concern. That caused a pretty big fight.

He even went so far as to ask Whitebeard to have you transferred to his division so he could keep an eye on you. Whitebeard denied it, and asked you if you were having trouble in your current division. That caused another big fight. 

You know he just wants to keep you safe, and that his intentions are good, but it still enrages you that he doesn’t want you helping out when you can. It enrages you even more that he’s meddling so much in your life. 

Finally one night he breaks down, holding you tight against his chest. “I can’t lose you,” he sobs into your hair. Your heart hurts hearing him cry. You wished that the two of you could come to an understanding with each other.

“You won’t,” you whisper into his chest, tears springing up. You believed in yourself, you just wanted him to believe in you too. 

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #sanji x y/n #sanji x reader #sanji x you #monkey d luffy #luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #law x y/n #law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x reader #portgas d ace #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x reader #cozage

[thesirencult]

YOUR DREAM FEMININE//PAC READING

This PAC reading can also apply to how you are as a feminine ❤️

Pile 1

Your dream feminine is sugar and spice and everything NAUGHTY.

They are definitely on Santa's naughty list and quite proud about it. I get that when you first meet them you will see them as a temptation.

You might think they are just one of your choices but it's going to be clear from the start that they don't do comparisons. It reminds me of that picture where the dogs run while the leopard sits back and doesn't compete!

Oh! They will play hard to get at first. No, scratch that, they ARE hard to get.

This feminine keeps their cards close to their chest. You will quickly realise YOU ARE one of their options.

Feelings of possessiveness might arise as this feminine will play mind games and drive you crazy. They are always in control.

This is a femme fatale. She will drag you along to her lair like a siren and you won't even realise you are under her spell, until you are drowning and even then, you won't care.

Pile 2

This feminine will be healing when you two meet. They are in need for someone that will hold space for them and you will be there to do that.

Touching will be healing and you both will love cuddling together and taking naps.

While your relationship will be progressing from close to ... closer, you will see them flourishing. They will start aligning with their purpose and their charismatic and energetic nature will shine.

Your feminine will go through a deep transformation right before your very own eyes. They will be your butterfly, also, they might get or want to get a butterfly tattoo at some point before you become exclusive.

Maybe you already know this person and they are your friend.

Pile 3

You will meet this person after a bad breakup that it's going to leave you shuttered and full of commitment issues.

Your feminine could have commitment issues too, but for other reasons. They might have been raised in a very toxic environment and are "quiet quitting" relationships.

They are intuitive, wise and kind with other people. They are also very generous.

At first you won't be sure if it is the right thing to approach them. They look too good to be true and you don't want to risk it. At some point though you will realize they are your wish come true and I hope it is not too late, because I see this person progressively fading in the background and feeling unimportant if others do not try to communicate with them or show their interest.

Pile 4

Your first meeting with your feminine will feel like a shift in the matrix. You will feel like your whole life a glass structure was surrounding you and now, you begin to see the cracks. If you felt called to pile number 3 feel free to read that too, as I get many similarities.

You might also be someone who has just gotten out of a relationship or you will break up before meeting this feminine.

This person will bring lots of changes into your life. They are very solid and hardworking. I'm seeing the "Beauty and the Beast" archetype.

You will jump into commitment with them as soon as you realise how powerful and transformative their energy is. They are quietly powerful.

#astrology #tarot reading #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #level up journey #pac reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #soulmate

[iovebarca]

Healing Touches - Pau Cubarsi

Authors note: this is my first time writing so im genuinely so sorry if this sucks😭 + my first language isnt english so im also sorry if there are any mistakes with spelling and grammar 🥲

WC: 500+

warnings: incorrect grammar (probably), intended lowercase, nothing really just fluff <3

summary: as pau returns home upset from the match, you offer silent support and reassurance. guiding him to solace, you express love and he finds comfort in sleep, knowing you're by his side.

as you anxiously awaited Pau's return home, the weight of the match hung heavy in the air. the room felt emptier, the silence louder, without his usual presence beside you. each tick of the clock seemed to echo the passing moments, prolonging the agonizing wait.

you unfortunately couldn’t be there. uni was taking all of your free time recently. with essays being due and exams needing to be made.

when the door creaked open, the sight that greeted you shattered your heart into little pieces. Pau, usually calm, stood before you with tears staining his cheeks, shoulders slumped in defeat. with a pang in your chest, you rushed to his side, enveloping him in a warm embrace. one of your hands left his back to the back of his head, stroking his hair. the faint smell of grass and sweat lingered on his clothes, a strong reminder of what he just came home from.

words seemed inadequate in the face of his pain, so you simply held him tight, offering silent support and understanding. after guiding him to the shower to wash away the weight of his emotions and letting him change into fresh clothes, meanwhile you prepared a comforting snack. “hey” he mumbled. “hey” you paused “let’s get into bed, cuddle and watch some netflix while we eat a snack”

with a tray in hand, you led him to the bed, the soft blankets beckoning like a sanctuary of solace amidst the chaos of the day. there, you wrapped him in a gentle embrace, offering the warmth of your presence.

you understood intuitively that words would fall short in the face of his pain, so you chose the language of touch instead. with each hug, each tender kiss pressed to his forehead, you conveyed a depth of understanding and support that meant more than any words could ever do. and in the quiet moments of solace, as you held him close and whispered words of love and reassurance, you knew that sometimes, the most powerful comfort comes not from words, but from the unwavering presence of someone who cares.

as you held him close, you felt the tension slowly recede from his body. his breathing, once jagged with the weight of his emotions, began to synchronize with yours, a silent symphony of shared solace. with each passing moment, the lines of strain in his face softened.

pau's voice, soft and heartfelt, broke the silence. "thank you for always being there for me," he murmured. your own emotions swirled in response. holding him close, you brushed a gentle kiss against his temple before murmuring softly, "you don't have to thank me, pau. being here for you is the most natural thing in the world for me."

feeling the weight of your words, pau lifted his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of love and gratitude. "we're in this together, through every high and every low," you continued, your voice steady with conviction. "I love you, and I'll always be by your side, no matter what." and a soft kiss was exchanged between the two.

after your tender exchange, pau's eyelids grew heavy with the weight of the day's emotions. as the tranquility of your shared moment enveloped you both, you felt the steady rhythm of his breathing gradually slow, his body surrendering to the embrace of sleep.

with a soft smile playing on your lips, you adjusted the blankets around him, ensuring his comfort as he drifted into peaceful slumber. gazing upon his peaceful expression, you couldn't help but marvel at the resilience of the human spirit. how even in the darkest of moments, love had the power to heal and to mend.

#pau cubarsi #pau cubarsi x reader #cu cu cubarsi #cubarsi #fc barcelona #pau cubarsi fluff #pau cubarsi oneshot #football

[whalesforhands]

hear me out: dyf!mc touching gojo AND geto too, but not only their muscles. what if she traced her fingers along where she remembers there being scars or injuries? what if she were to ask them what happened after she “died?” i feel like that would make for some rlly heart wrenching hurt/comfort and closure to the failed mission for the trio? :((

-omori anon

warnings: suggestive, but only in the first few paragraphs

“Does it ever… Hurt?” It’s a vulnerable moment, pillowtalk after a session of copulating that leaves you all sweaty, lying in between the both of them as you’re on your side, facing Satoru as you trace the scar on his chest.

You weren’t aware he had one too, not when you had just noticed the one on Suguru.

It catches your eyes, the mark on his chest as your hands trail down the skin as he’s on top of you, your passion no where near interrupted as your hands subconsciously move to trail over the ‘X’.

He’s so close, so warm… A shy tilt of your head upwards towards him has his hips coming to a slow, his neck craning down to meet you halfway— Only for your lips to map across the scarred skin, shyly leaving kisses before your twinkling eyes look back up to meet his widened gaze.

A breath sucked in, a hand grasping both of your wrists, before Suguru’s mouth is desperately slotting over yours, a muffled yelp is all that is able to escape you.

“…fuck, that was cute.”

“Not when you’re here.” Satoru’s voice is full of steady adoration as he watches the arm Suguru has draped over you, your waist cuddled into the black-haired man’s arm as Gojo himself settles a hand on your cheek.

“Shoko said that you both were the only ones to be able to fully heal anything.” So… Why didn’t they? Why keep this painful reminder?

There’s a beat of silence that passes; and the air changes, tenser, hesitatant and a swallow of doubt.

Did you say something wrong? You’re starting to upset yourself as your hands still on his chest. “You don’t have to answer if—“

“I suppose I lacked confidence.” His eyes close as he brings your hand up to his face, lightly kissing your fingers. It’s unusual; seeing the Gojo Satoru lying next to you quiet, shaken, with a trembling hand that goes to desperately clutch at yours.

“I didn’t believe in myself enough to remember.” It’s a bane, his existence. Something he’s realized at the mercy of time. There’s nothing fulfilling about being ‘the strongest’ if there’s no one beside you. Though, he will be able to handle it, to power through it all, through anything.

But at what cost? If he already lost you; if he lost Geto Suguru… What will become of him? Why does he keep this lowly mark on him that will only flay his mind with torture and distress?

Because it has you. It has you— Inscribed into the affliction, lived on through the searing burn it gives him sometimes.

He’s only human, even if born with power to rival the gods. Age will catch up to him, jamming his thoughts and evaporating the swirling blue of his youth away.

So even if his precious blue memories were broken beyond recognition with time, this unsightly scar that scalded his skin— As long as it was proof that you existed, he wouldn’t forget about it.

A novelty that had yet to wear off. It almost brings a tear to his eye how poetic he thinks he is; he wonders what Suguru thinks. It was never discussed between them; more like a silent contract they’ve subjected themselves to every night as they indulged in each other’s presence in the days without you.

A chuckle leaves his lips as he breathes out the next few words. It’s kind of funny, humorous to him that he gets to say them now, the words he had been trying to formulate for the nights that lost you.

“I love you.” And he’d say it for as many times as you want— As many lives as you and Suguru can continue to exist.

I love you I love you I love you I love you—

It’s in these moments that Gojo Satoru realizes how much weaker he is than he thinks, how the warmth of your blood sparks against your skin, how the distance of your pigments are finally gone. How the shine of your eyes still persist even after all this time.

So don’t leave again. Don’t.

“For me— I guess I didn’t want to change.” Suguru’s soothing voice is breathed into your ears as the soft whisper is audible enough for all three to hear. He finds it comparable to a brand, a morbid reminder of their failure, and at the same time— Of you. Would you call it selfish or nonsensical if he said this was only one such proof of their love?

Geto Suguru likes to think he took you for granted. To wallow in what he lost, what he failed to save, what he couldn’t do, even when struck with grief and anguish and terrible anger.

Is it an easy thing to say? Or is it a difficult thing to do? He can’t decide; Not when the act is to accept the fact that you had gone without them. The undefined and unknown seeped into him, a lack of words that only left him holding onto smoldering feelings.

He was lost, listless and blank, steeped in days that bloomed him into despair if it wasn’t for the glowing hope that allowed him to hang on in the form of Gojo Satoru.

“But it shouldn’t matter now, right?” His nose buries itself deeper into the crook of your neck as he feels you here. It almost scares him to get used to this.

In the time you were gone, it is painful how much things had been subject to change, how they all couldn’t stay the same as it was back in those nostalgic summers.

“I’m…” Speechless. You don’t know what to say as these two men nuzzle further into you, their holds getting tighter, wanting— Almost protectively. “Sorry…”

“Don’t be.”

“Whaddya apologizing for?”

You nearly want to cry at the way they’re so dismissive of their own past. “For making you think back to those times.”

“It’s really nothing,” Suguru closes his eyes as he breathes in the scent of your hair, the loveliness of your skin against his. “You’re here now.”

He answers for the both of them when he says that line.

There is no use for yesterday, no point of crying for what that was lost. So, let them love you and each other until the end of this time, and let them do it again in the next life all over again.

Because it’s odd, an enigma— With how your hands have always been warmer than theirs.

masterlist

#omori anon #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satosugu x reader #dyf au

[asillylittleistik]

Poly Isobel & Dame Aylin with asexual reader please?

I am so glad that the first request I got on here is an Isobel and Dame Aylin request because GOD I love these two

Poly Dame Aylin & Isobel with Asexual Reader

Oh man, dating these two, you just know no one will ever so much as touch a hair on your head

Girlfriends? Nah, you got bodyguards now

Seriously though, both of them have had to experience losing their lover once already, so the both of them are terrified to let it happen again

They are so, so, so, protective of you

Just imagine being at a market of Baldur's Gate one day, and some stranger starts raising their voice at you for whatever reason, and all of the sudden, the demigod daughter of Selûne appears from the heavens and tells them to fuck off

Not to say Isobel isn't fiercely protective as well, but she is also just as mortal as you are, so Aylin always keeps her out of danger

She's like a literal guardian angel to you guys, never letting anything get past her

And, god forbid, someone does injure you, she is after them with a rage so potent it almost terrifies you, if you didn't already know she would never hurt you

And all the while, Isobel sits at your side, keeping you comfortable against her while whispering quick and desperate prayers to Selûne to bring you back to health

Even if your wounds do heal, expect to be pampered to no end, though

At camp, when it's pitch black out and everyone has already fallen asleep in their tents, imagine just the most godly of cuddle piles

Aylin is always on her back, since her broad form is perfect to cuddle up against (and god knows she'd crack someone's rib if she tried to lay on them for a change)

I wholeheartedly believe that, after you and Isobel had fallen asleep against her, one on each arm, she'd keep her eyes open and ears peeled for as long as she could just to make sure no threat comes for you two in the night

Being an immortal, nothing scares her more than the mortality of her lovers

Both of them, Isobel especially, are prone to nightmares after all the trauma they've been through

Occasionally, you wake up in the night to the sound of quiet sniffling and trembling, just to see Isobel with her face buried into the fabric of Aylin's shirt

Pull her into your arms, whisper to her that she's safe, you're safe, and Aylin's safe. Nothing, not her father, not the Absolute, nothing can hurt them anymore

She usually isn't able to verbalize it at the moment, but your words do so much to calm her down

And, if she wasn't already awake to begin with, all the commotion is sure to wake Aylin up, who does everything in her power to reassure Isobel

And, at the end of the day, you know that if any one of you, not just Isobel, was ever in need of comforting, the other two would be on their beck and call for however long it takes

As for you being asexual, neither of them have any qualms with it

Sure, the two of them are certainly very active, but they would never make you feel excluded in anything

They are very respectful of your boundaries and making sure that nothing they ever do with each other makes you feel uncomfortable or excluded in any way

And besides, while sex may be nice and all, there's nothing they want more to have you safe and happy at their side

And seeing you fighting valiantly next to them, laughing with friends, or fast asleep on one of their shoulder's, they know they have everything they could ever want

#bg3 #bg3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 #dame aylin #isobel thorm #dame aylin x reader #isobel thorm x reader #isobel x reader #aylin x reader #aylin x isobel

[delusionalmultifandomwriter]

Batfam Napping HC

requested?: No

HC: How does the Batfamily nap?

I had a very good nap today and it sorta inspired me so here we go!

Bruce takes "im just gonna rest my eyes for a second" naps. He sometimes dozes off in the office chair in front of the Batcomputer with his head tilted back. He totally snores. He will also sometimes fall asleep in WE meetings (this one is canon).

Dick can sleep anywhere and everywhere. Couch, bed, car, sitting in a chair, standing or hanging upside down. When he was younger he used to sometimes nap during the galas Bruce took him to. He would just stretch out over two, as he grew three chairs he moved together and sleep until they would go home.

Jason naps curled up because it reliefs his backpain. It is not as bad as it used to be when he first got free from the Joker, it got better when he started healing, but being Red Hood is exhausting and some days are just bad days. The napping mostly happens on accident, he just wants some pain relief for a few moments and suddenly he is out like a light.

Tim is chronically tired, we all know that. Sometimes he falls asleep at his desk either in the cave or at WE. Dick normally wakes him up or carries him to bed. Sometimes, when Dick spots Tim getting tired he gives him some headpats, some nice words and finally gets him to lay down with him. Dick and Tim like to cuddle, both of them are touch-starved as hell and they fight it off together. They can occassionally be spotted in either Dick's or Tim's room, Tim laying down on his older brother with his head tucked under Dick's chin. Their naps sometimes extend over multiple hours.

Damian sometimes naps in the barn with Batcow. He leans against her warm body and sometimes Alfred the Cat sleeps on his lap or Titus and Ace lay down with him. Damian gets very calm in the presence of animals and because the barn is a little away from the Manor, noone really ever caught him sleeping there. Only Alfred caught him once, he took a picture of it and keeps the moment treasured.

Babs has a couch in the Belfry right under the clock face where the sun shines through the stained glass lightly. She isn't bothered by light so she likes to nap while the sun warms her body. She thinks that warm sunlight is the ultimate weapon against deep aching cold in her bones. It is her treasured place.

Steph is a sucker for car naps. She sleeps best when she sits in the passenger seat of a car with someone trusted driving. When she still was Robin she used to fall asleep in the Batmobile after patrol sometimes. Batman never admitted it but it made him quiet emotional that Steph trusted him enough to sleep near him.

Cass, in general, only sleeps in her room with the door locked and the curtains closed. She naps the same way she sleeps, she needs the safety of her room. She sleeps on her back with her hands over the blanket or without a blanket at all. It's a habit from her assassin training that she can't quiet get rid off. She also puts a timer on 20 minutes because that is appareantly the optimal length for a nap. She sleeps through the alarm at least half of the time.

Duke is basically the only one that is not afraid to sleep in front of the rest off the family. One of the perks of joining the family late, is that they figured themselves out more or less so nothing bad happened between them (yet). Duke sometimes naps when he overused his powers and needs a quick energy refill. He mostly naps sitting up on a couch with his arms crossed on the backrest and his head resting on his arms. The rest of the family is always surprised if they find him sleeping just in front of everyone.

#batman #batfam #jason todd #my writing #red hood #batfamily #damian wayne #dc robin #stephanie brown #batgirl #spoiler dc #nightwing #dick grayson #red robin #tim drake #bruce wayne #barbara gordon #cassandra cain #orphan dc #headcanons #headcanon #batfamily headcanon #batfamily headcanons #batfamily hc #napping #sleep

[donquixotehomura]

Donquixote Doflamingo x Reader Relaxation

Master List

Pre-established relationship, fluff, Doffy being soft, reader is gender ambiguous, reader taking care of Doffy, reader is very ambiguous actually, I HC then as the same age and having been together since their twenties but this fic doesn't have anything alluding to any of that so you can think about it however you want.

In the heart of Dressrosa, the facade of joy and freedom shown to the Kingdom concealed the intricate planning and power orchestrated by Donquixote Doflamingo, amidst the schemes and planning, you stood by his side, not just as a normal family member but as a partner, as someone who understood the complexities of his heart.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the two of you retreated to the privacy of your shared quarters. The air shifted, shedding the weight of the day's responsibilities. Doflamingo's stern demeanor softened, revealing a vulnerability reserved for you alone, the room became a haven, a sanctuary where the masks of the ruthless pirate and cunning ruler could be set aside.

You approached him, your hands skilled from countless nights of relieving his tension. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room as you worked your magic, massaging away the stresses that clung to his shoulders.

Doflamingo, normally stoic and unyielding, melted into the touch, his guard lowering with each knead of your fingers.

"You know," he murmured, his voice a low rumble, "you have a way of making me forget the chaos out there."

You smiled, understanding the weight of his words. The massages weren't just physical relief, they were a ritual of intimacy, a language spoken in the silent moments. As your hands continued their dance, the room echoed with a quiet symphony of shared affection.

When the massages concluded, you both settled into a comforting embrace. The boundaries between family/partners and lovers blurred in the soft glow of the candles. The armor of power and influence that surrounded Doflamingo crumbled, revealing the man who found solace in your arms.

Cuddling close, the world outside vanished, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of shared warmth. As the night unfolded, your whispered conversations and tender touches became a testament to the love that transcended the intricacies of power and ambition.

In the stillness of the night, Doflamingo, once the puppet master of a grand design, found his sanctuary in the simplicity of your love. The silent retreat to your shared bedroom became a ritual of healing, a reminder that even in the tumultuous seas of the Pirate world and great ambition, there existed an anchor—each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He looks adorable in this gif (it isn't mine and I'm not sure where I got it from, probably from another Doffy fic here)

Tell me what you think, I know this is short but it's a beginning ig, I can't figure out a style for myself yet but I'll get there, apologies if this sucked haha

This is my beginning on the road of fanfics, I always get a ton of ideas and never write them cause I don't really know how to word them well and my anxiety is through the roof 🥲, anyways here we go I hope this is good, I'll try to keep my fangirl heart at bay but I can't with this horrible lovely adorable man (is this my daddy issues? Maybe)

Do I sound too philosophical? Should I go for more causal? Idk my brain is either this or can't even form a sentence (it's either ADHD thing or I'm just stupid haha)

#donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo #donquixote doflamingo x reader #donquixote family #Donquixote doflamingo fluff #doflamingo fluff #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece fluff

[moremousewrites]

Tempest

Pairing: Minthara/Tav (femme drow)

Summary: You and Minthara relate to your utter distaste for the weather of Faerun's surface. While you've had some time to acclimate, Minthara suggests another solution. You're not really in a place to judge, but you can convince her to stay the night at least

Tags: kissing, smut, fluff, cuddling after sex, pet names (my divinity),fingering, oral sex, grinding, nipple play, slavery mention

Note: I'm sorry i keep making fics about my ocs and putting them in 2nd person lmao. This is hardly a reader insert but old habits die hard im afraid. Anyway brackets is drowish, quotes is common. Enjoy!

A Heavy thunderstorm in rivington forced the adventuring party to set up camp for the night. You were settling in when a very flustered, very wet Minthara burst into your tent.

“Does this miserable weather never cease?” She kicked off her muddy shoes in your tent and started peeling off her wet nightclothes. How considerate. 

You didn't bother averting your eyes, she'd find it pointless as well. You had not laid together yet, but your relationship was very close. She had healed your unclothed body before and you had bathed with her a few times now. She made it a ritual after confessing to you, washing your hair. 

“It's only rain, Minthara” you opened your bedroll to her and she climbed in beside you, her face a breath away from yours.

“I do not mean this weather. I mean all surface weather. The unruly sun, smothered by this deluge. And the biting cold that greets you if you're not so bloated by nightfall. You know of what I speak. Do you not agree that the temperament of Menzoberranzan is much more suitable for life?” she ranted. It was almost funny how serious she was about this but you could sympathize with her difficulty assimilating to the climate. A few decades ago you saw sunlight for the first time and you were equally miserable.

“It is one of the few things I miss about the Underdark” you switched to high drowic, just in case your companions were listening. [I won't pretend to understand why the surface dwellers tolerate conditions here as they do, but I know it is not my place to impart my views on other cultures] you explained, wrapping your arm around her. She was shivering. 

[It is indeed your place to do just that] she stated, bluntly. Ah, the source of your disagreements. [You're a powerful, influential heiress of a noble house, Tav. And how I see it, you'd be doing the surface a favour by enslaving it and disseminating them within the Underdark] she shoved her freezing hands up your nightshirt and you jolted at their temperature. 

[I'm not enslaving Faerun. And I can't go back to Menzoberranzan. There's a reason I left] you took off your shirt and Minthara pressed herself against you.

Minthara warmed in your embrace. [Your mother? That's simple we will kill her with the aid of your liberated army] she kissed your neck, placing her hands on your chest. 

She was so severe you couldn't believe her sometimes. Then again, you had been just like her. Sometimes, you forgot how vicious you really were. Dreams of total global enslavement and matricide were commonplace. You have had those exact ambitions before. 

[Minthara…] you moaned at her touch.

She placed a hand at your mouth. [Be quiet. I need silence to plan our world domination] she got up to straddle your hips.You dared not utter a word. [We will conquer the surface together. Then we will conscript the strongest fighters to slay your mother's house] she rolled her hips into yours. The idea of dethroning your tyrant mother was enticing. Minthara's body on your clothed cunt was even moreso.

She pulled your bra off of you, marveling in your beauty. [Then I shall claim my place as the head of house Baenre and our joined forces will be unstoppable. All will bow to our devastating power] she cupped your breasts, massaging them, rolling your nipples between her fingers. She was awaiting your response. 

You thought it was fitting she believed it to be easier to enslave all of the surface of Faerun than vanquish a portion of the Underdark. Fitting but ridiculous. This was dirty talk for her. And you apparently, since you were dripping at the thought.

[Yes, my Queen] you consented. She leaned in and kissed you with a searing passion. Your hands flew to her body but she tore away from the kiss. 

[Yes, I will be your queen. Kneel before me and swear your fealty] she leaned back, spreading her legs for you. 

You got on your knees, you slid your hands up her thighs slowly. [I, Tav, do swear by no gods- only unto your name, that I will be faithful and serve you, Minthara, as my true queen] every word, you inched your hands closer to her core. You could smell her desire for you.

She was so flustered by your performance, she couldn't even respond properly. [Please, Tav] she humbly begged.

[What is it my queen asks of me?] You dipped lower, kissing down her chest, lower and lower. Not low enough.

[I ask you to lick me] she panted out. You were very grateful for the thunderstorm. Even in high drow, the way she begged you to lick her cunt was so lustful you could have known it in any language. Your companions certainly would have overheard had the storm not muffled her. You did your queen's bidding and licked her. First, through her smallclothes to tease. She was aching so much that it would not have made a difference. You lapped at her through the cloth and she ground herself on your tongue. 

Before she could finish, you pulled her panties to the side, licking a stripe up her cunt and taking her swollen clit into your mouth. She moaned deeply as she came, chest heaving and a thin sheen of sweat covering her body. You needed more.

You placed one finger at her entrance, gathering her moisture on your finger. She flinched at first, unprepared for the sensation, then welcomed it greedily as you sunk a knuckle in. Then the other, and the second finger. You pumped them in and out of her slowly, pressing into the spot you knew she'd love all too well. You were devoted to serving your queen.

“Tav, you were taught love magic in your youth, surely” Minthara was gripping the sheets in ecstasy. She was trying desperately to hold out. Even slipping back to common tongue to distract herself. 

You continued your efforts and leaned forward to take her nipple in your mouth. Minthara squirmed under your touch but still, held strong. You pushed your free hand on her lower belly, causing her to gasp. Still, it wasn't enough. But you swore fealty and it was an oath you would not break. You wrapped your lips around her clit and tongued at her while you fucked her with your fingers. She screamed your name as you came. The thunderstorm couldn't hide that, though you didn't really care.

Exhausted, Minthara cuddled into your arms. You guided her back into the bedroll. “Give me a moment and I will take care of you, my divinity” she nuzzled into your neck.

You noticed her hair was still up. It would get tangled in her sleep. “No, my queen. Rest. It would honour me” you pulled the tie from her hair and it spilled over her shoulder and onto the pillow. You ran your fingers through it. She didn't protest, your touch had proven effective. She was snoring lightly in seconds. 

You took in her beauty. She was worthy of being your queen- your goddess, even. Faerun would never stand a chance. The two of you would be malevolent rulers, treacherous and perfect. Lucky for Faerun it would never know. You both were only faithful to each other, the world would never have you. 

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #minthara baenre #minthara/reader #minthara/tav #minthara x oc #minthara #baldurs gate fanfiction

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hi hi!!! It's been a while since I requested! And I wanted to say I'm incredibly impressed on how fast you get your requests out!!

Anyways my request was the gods and humans of your choice (just as long as you add jack) whose s/o is like poison ivy, they still dislike humans but will fight for them because they were once human themselves. They are incredibly patient and love kids (ik canon poison Ivy probably doesn't like kids but meh)

Thanks in advance!!!! ❤❤❤

-You mostly kept to yourself, attending to your quiet garden in Valhalla, not really willing to interact with others, except for the few children who sought you out to ask you questions about plants, which you didn’t mind.

-You didn’t mind kids, at least those that were not destructive, but many of the children who visited you were curious and eager to learn from you, which you did with easy going patience.

-If you taught them young to respect plant life, to respect the earth, then they wouldn’t harm it, and wouldn’t piss you off.

-You stunned many that you decided to fight for humanity, despite your intense dislikes of them, but your reason was simple to you and humbling to others, “I was once one of them myself. It is the least I can do.”

-Your opponent was quick to underestimate you was you walked out, ignoring the catcalls from men in the audience as you were only in a dark green crop top and a pair of red bikini bottoms, roses in your flowing hair, green skin, and creeping vine tattoos in darker and lighter shades all over your body.

-You liked it when you get underestimated, it’s more fun for you when you toy with your pray.

-Many of the gods were stunned by your powers, you were like a goddess yourself, being able grow monstrous sized plants, ones that were even sentient, use even the smallest parts of plants, like leaves, as knives.

-You easily won your fight, only take a couple of hits yourself and you did have to admit, getting cheered was rather nice, and you did smile as you saw many of the children you’ve become friends with cheering out your name.

-You returned backstage so you could head back to your garden when you heard someone call out your name.

-You turned and a soft smile appeared on your lips, seeing your lover there.

-Jack- He normally would have taken your hand to peck the back of it, his normal greeting for you, but he surprised you by immediately embracing you, holding you tightly, as if you would disappear. You enjoyed the hug, your arms going around his chest before he pulled back, lightly brushing his thumb over your cheek where a bruise, one of only a few, was. Your hand cupped over his own and he inhaled, “Forgive my unmannerly greeting, my love, but I grew worried when he harmed you.” You smiled up at him, “I will heal, Jack, just like you did.” He chuckled softly before brushing your hair behind your ear so he could peck your cheek, his mustache tickling your cheek. He turned, offering you an arm which you took, holding it close as he grinned down at you, “I saw that attack you did with the leaves, Y/N~” you instantly giggled warmly, leaning your head on his arm, “I learned from the best~” he laughed warmly at your praise as you two continued to your room.

-Odin- He instantly had you in his arms, holding you up princess style with one arm while the other cupped your face, scowling up at the forming bruise from the lucky shot your opponent managed to get, “He’s lucky he’s dead. How dare he put his hands on you.” You cupped his cheeks before pecking his forehead, “It will heal, my love.” Muninn and Huginn left his shoulders for your own, cuddling up to your, the two shouting out their own anger while you cooed at them gently, trying to soothe them. Odin turned as your arms went around his neck, scratching the back of his neck gently, trying to calm him down as you smiled up at him, “And I told you that I was going to win. There’s only one man I’ve ever lost to, and he wound up being an ally later in my life and he’s the only one to ever hold that honor.” Odin just hummed quietly but enjoyed your gentle kisses, basking in your affection.

-Kojiro- He beamed brightly at you, his hands on your waist as he was quick to lift you in a twirl, “You were amazing!!” your giggled as he pulled you down into his arms, your arms around his neck as you planted a kiss on his cheek, leaving a lipstick mark, but unlike your normal kisses, Kojiro was immune, so you could kiss him as much as you want without either of you worrying too much. He held your hand in his own, giving you a small squeeze as he beamed down at you, “I had some food and drinks brought to your room, if you’re up for a celebration!” you smiled up at him, leaning your cheek against his arm, “Of course I am my love, both of our fights have been won, now it’s up to the other humans to win their own and to win our salvation.” He leaned over and pecked your forehead, making you smile softly, “All we can do is wait and enjoy ourselves! No wait- I didn’t mean it like that!” you grinned up at him, batting your eyes as your arms went around his neck with a coo, “Enjoy ourselves huh~” he was quickly flushing bright red as you flirted up at him. He was just too much fun not to tease!

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror jack the ripper #ror odin #ror kojiro sasaki

[ass-deep-in-demons]

Can I please get a headcanon of Boromir having a crush on Gandalfs apprentice who looks after the hobbits like their mum? Boromir is kinda their dad/cool uncle so they both grow close together.

Also Boromir, apprentice and hobbits falling to sleep in a big cuddle puddle 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻

Girl (gn) thank you so much for this awesome ask! I get the feeling that you had something slightly different in mind, but I suffer from a plotter's disease and I created an entire plotline in these headcanons and also two mini-fics. There's some angst, but there is CUDDLES, as requested :D Hope you will like it :)

Boromir x Gandalf's Apprentice

headcanons and two ficlets

Found Family, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending, rated G, 4250 words, she/her pronouns for OC, TW: canon Moria events & aftermath

I ✦ The Pupil ✦

Gandalf has been around for thousands of years. The peoples of Middle Earth tell different stories about him, but in every corner of the known (and unknown) World one of his many names has been heard.

During his travels, nobody knows exactly when or where, Gandalf finds a young one with magical talent. He does not know what strange anomaly might have caused a child to be born with arcane affinity, normally reserved for the Ainur such as himself, but… stranger things have happened on Arda. Perhaps the Illuvatar himself willed it. If so, it would be unwise to leave the child to its own fate.

At first he visits her home from time to time and shows her his fireworks and his pipe smoke magics. Her caretakers find him strange, but he pays them no heed, comes and goes as he pleases.

His suspicions are confirmed - the child can be taught to replicate some of his simple tricks, proving she is able to tune in to the Song of the Ainur. Her power is not great, barely a wisp of magic compared to Gandalf’s own, but still, it is worth cultivating. Gandalf deems it his duty to take the fledgeling under his wing and make her his pupil.

Gandalf tells his Pupil about his travels and about the secrets of Middle Earth. In time, as she grows, she starts yearning to leave her home and go exploring with the Wizard.

When the Pupil is old enough, Gandalf takes her with him on a journey. They spend years travelling together. Keeping up with Gandalf is not easy for the Pupil, but she perseveres.

With the Grey Wizard, the Pupil visits the Western Kingdoms, the Elven Realms, and Eriador. She helps Gandalf with his quests and meets many new people.

Later, when she is more experienced, Gandalf deems her ready to spread her wings and have her own adventures. She travels doing errands and fulfilling quests that her Master assigns her.

She spends some time studying under Saruman - from him she learns the basics of arcane knowledge. However, Saruman fails to appreciate her quiet, subtle talent. He is not pleased with her progress, nor is she with his teaching methods, and they part ways on non-too-amicable terms.

Her stay in Mirkwood is much more fruitful. From the Silvan Elves, she picks up the basics of scouting and learns how to read the signs of the Forest. She is fascinated with Radagast, and dedicates time to assist him in his tasks as the Guardian of the Woods - learning about the powers that lie dormant in the ancient trees. Radagast teaches her how to care for animals and heal what is broken. Nurturing and patient by nature, the Pupil responds well to the Brown Wizard’s tutelage.

The Pupil is present in Mirkwood when Aragorn brings Gollum there for safeguarding, and later when Gandalf comes to question him. She learns of the Ring and of Sauron’s return.

Gandalf assigns her a mission to go to Erebor, to enlist the help of the Dwarves. She arrives at Rivendell with Gloin, Gimli and the rest of the Dwarven deputation.

She is not deemed important enough to join the Council of Elrond, and besides, Gandalf has other plans for her. He sends her forth to scout the gap of Rohan, in case they need to pass there on their way to Mordor.

After the Council and the period of preparations, the Fellowship sets off. The Pupil finds them on the trail further South. She is able to clear any doubts for them: the Gap of Rohan is overrun with Saruman’s spies, and so the passage is closed to them.

They decide to go through the Redhorn Gate. Gandalf orders his Pupil to return to Rivendell, but to his surprise, for the first time since he took her as his ppprentice, she defies him. She wants to travel with the Fellowship, intent on helping her Master in any way she can.

Faced with her obstinacy, Gandalf finds a task in which she can indeed be of use. He’s been growing more and more irritated with the Hobbits’ mischief. They are loud, impish, and unused to living in the wilderness. “So long as you keep the Hobbits from pestering me, you may travel with us. But don’t say I didn’t warn you, my stubborn Pupil,” he grumbles.

The Pupil, who is of a gentle and giving nature, but also stern when she needs to be, quickly forms a familial bond with not only the Hobbits, but the entire Fellowship.

She has met Aragorn during her earlier travels with Gandalf. The Ranger knows he can rely on her scouting, and is relieved to have someone beside himself and Legolas who knows their way around the woods. She helps Aragorn gather herbs and imbues his mixtures with her subtle healing spells.

Though she’s met Legolas in passing during her Mirkwood days, she only becomes better acquainted with him during the Fellowship’s trek south. Legolas is glad to know someone who is well acquainted with his home, and shares his love for the woods.

Because of her earlier mission to Erebor, and the shared journey from the Lonely Mountain to Rivendell, she is well acquainted with Gimli. The dwarf teases her for being “too elfy” and a “tree lover”, but he is very grateful for her kindness and her efforts to ease tensions within the Fellowship.

Frodo has long known her as Gandalf’s Apprentice, and the rest of the Hobbits warm up to her quickly. They are delighted to be around someone, who, like themselves, isn’t so strongly focused on the topics of warfare and survival. Istead, they bond over their shared appreciation for a good meal and a good laugh. Tasked with keeping them out of trouble, she often mother-hens them, especially Merry and Pippin, who are the youngest.

Boromir is the only one who, not knowing her prior to their meeting on the trail, has some trouble trusting her at first. He is generally suspicious of magic users, and also a little bit jealous of how quickly she builds good rapport with the Hobbits (though he will not admit it).

That being said, he might not be so immune to her caring touch as he thinks…

II ✦ Soup for the Soul ✦

I should not let them fall asleep like that. True although it was, this realisation came to Boromir rather late.

After their failed excursion through the Redhorn Pass, the Fellowship had descended to once again take shelter under the canopy of the woodlands of Eriador. They now had only one route open, through the Mines of Moria, and all save for the Dwarf did not take well to that prospect. They were travelling South, slowly and reluctantly, still recovering from the snowstorm that cut their path.

Earlier today, once they had set up camp, Boromir had organised a fencing lesson for Merry and Pippin. He had hoped that some light exercise would speed their recovery and help them regain some of their lost strength. Even Frodo had joined on this occasion, which gladdened Boromir. Their journey had not lasted long, but the first signs of wear and discouragement could be already seen on the young Baggins.

After their sword practice (sword being a generous word for the dirks that the Hobbits carried), they all sat down under a tree to sharpen their blades. Pippin had trouble with maintaining the angle, and asked Boromir to show him how it’s done. As Boromir expertly whetted the dagger, the three hobbits leaned in on him, supposedly to better observe and learn. Boromir was none the wiser, and only Meriadoc’s loud snore made him finally realise that the three Halflings had fallen asleep, using his padded shoulders and arms as pillows. Now he was stuck under them, not wanting to disturb their sleep - not when Frodo was peaceful at last, after several nights during which Boromir had heard the Hobbit toss and turn.

Tired and hungry, Boromir resigned himself to his fate. As he could not move without waking the little ones, and it was gradually getting dark, he quietly observed the Fellowship’s campfire from a distance. Gandalf was sitting on a log by the fire and smoking his pipe, clearly content to have some peace and quiet. Samwise was busy cleaning after the meal - a stew which Boromir did not have the chance to taste yet, and probably wouldn’t now, not while it was hot at least. Gimli had been assigned with securing the perimeter - it was his turn to scout the surrounding forest and make sure they were safe for the night. Aragorn and Legolas were seated together some distance away from the campfire and discussing something in hushed tones - likely their strategy for approaching the Gates of Moria. Boromir was rarely included in their talks, which sat ill with him. Not for the first time he regretted their less-than-optimal introduction during the Council in Imladris.

There remained one more member of their party - the woman who everyone except Boromir seemed to already know. They called her the Pupil, likely because of Mithrandir. My young Pupil this, my clever Pupil that, my stubborn Pupil, my silly Pupil... - the Wizard  would always say, and it stuck. Boromir could not tell her age - she looked neither old nor young. She did bear elven nor dwarven features, nor orcish for that matter… and yet he could not be sure she was wholly of the race of Men. Boromir did not know what to make of her.

Right now she was crouching next to the campfire, her back turned to Boromir, so he could not see what she was doing. He had not trusted her, at first. She hadn’t been part of their original team. She did not seem proficient in combat, nor very sturdy. He had been angry when she had declared they couldn’t travel through the Gap of Rohan, as he himself would have preferred that route to any other. And yet her intel had proved correct. She was also useful in other ways. During the snowstorm atop Caradhras, he had witnessed her magic - not flashy, like the Wizard’s fireworks, but rather slow and subtle. Mithrandir refused to light a fire for fear of drawing the wrong kind of attention, but she had used her quiet talent to keep the little ones from freezing with potions. She had imbued Boromir’s leather grieves with some sort of a warming spell, too, even though it had seemed to sap at her strength. He had to assume she was loyal to the Grey Pilgrim, and so, by extension, loyal to the Ringbearer’s mission.

He noticed that she stood up, then. Instead of addressing the Wizard, she turned around to face Boromir, and he noticed a bowl in her hands. He then guessed what her purpose by the fire had been: she was heating up the leftovers of the stew. Slowly, carefully, so as not to spill anything, she approached Boromir and the Hobbits’ resting place under the tree.

She kneeled and set the steaming stew on the forest floor beside them. Then, once their eyes met, she touched her lips with her finger signalling him to remain quiet. That he could do. She noiselessly stood up and scampered off back to the campfire, leaving Boromir once again. The smell of the stew reached his nostrils and he cursed quietly. Some help she was, leaving him to smell the meal, but without the means to taste it! Not without disturbing the Hobbits, at least.

But he was not left to pine after the stew for long. Soon she returned to him, carrying a bundle that she then unfolded to reveal a chunky warm blanket. She covered them with it, Boromir and the three sleeping hobbits, tucking the edges in gently. It did help to ward off the evening chill, Boromir admitted.

Then she plopped down to the forest floor next to Boromir, sat cross legged and picked up the bowl once again. Is she going to make me watch her eat it? Boromir thought and felt a surge of irritation at her inconsiderate behaviour. She scooped up a hearty portion of the stew with a spoon, but, to Boromir’s alarm, she did not bring it to her  mouth. Instead, she directed the spoon surely and smoothly to Boromir’s own lips.

In that moment, Boromir would sooner open his mouth from sheer shock than for the sake of any sort of cooperation. He was a Man grown! It has been… nigh to four decades since he had let anyone spoon-feed him last. He turned his head away firmly. The Pupil, however, would not give up so easily. She reached out with her free hand and gently swept Boromir’s hair away from his face.

The gesture made him flustered. It has been… quite some time since any woman has touched his face. He was thankful for the shroud of dusk. He had nowhere to run however, and he felt her nudge his lips with the spoon, urging him to open his mouth. He was forced to meet her gaze once again. 

What he found on her face was not amusement, nor condescension, but rather... gentle pleading. She really was only trying to help.

"Let me", she mouthed silently.

He shook his head and pursed his lips even tighter.

Then, as if his own body wanted to play tricks on him, they both heard his traitorous stomach give out a loud growl.

The Pupil raised her eyebrow at Boromir.

Well? Are you going to deny that you’re hungry now? her expression seemed to demand.

He rolled his eyes as a universal way of saying whatever, I care not, and finally opened his mouth.

A spoonful of warm stew finally landed on his tongue, and he felt the most delightful warmth spread through his body. He had to fight an urge to growl at the pleasant sensation.

The Pupil smiled.

There. That wasn’t so hard, Boromir read from her content face.

This was a good idea, after all, he thought after the second spoon. He had been ravenous, he realised, and the stew was doing wonders for his mood. It was surprisingly nice to have someone take care of him that way. For too long a time he had been only attending to the needs of others, not accepting any help for himself.

He met her concentrated gaze, as she continued to feed him the stew, restoring his strength with each spoonful.

“You did good,” she mouthed silently and Boromir furrowed his brows, confused. “With the little ones,” she added, and vaguely indicated the sleeping Hobbits with her head. Oh, she means the sword-practice, he thought, and felt no small satisfaction from her compliment.

He was reminded of how taking care of Faramir was always a duty that filled him with joy and pride. This was not dissimilar, he realised, and it was nicer still to have someone help him and share some of that responsibility. He felt contentment at what they’d accomplished together: Pippin breathing deeply, with his head resting on Boromir’s arm, Meriadoc snoring quietly slumped against his friend, and Frodo - looking strengthened and at ease, sleeping soundly propped against the tree on Boromir’s other side.

Is this how being a father feels like? What if I had a child of my own one day? he asked himself. But this thought of parenthood that came to him, perhaps for the first time in his life, was so strange and foreign, and so surprising, that he dared not dwell on it any longer. Instead he resigned himself to the gentle care of the strange woman, who turned out to be… not so strange, after all.

III ✦ Picking up the Pieces ✦

Boromir was sure he would never forget the moment Gandalf fell.

He remembered the unearthly heat and the fumes of sulphur that wafted from the hellish chasm. He remembered Mithrandir’s white knuckles, holding on to the collapsed bridge’s edge, and the Wizard’s desperate last message to the Fellowship: Fly, you fools!

But what he remembered the most, and what was was going to forever haunt him, was the cry of Gandalf’s devoted Pupil. Her broken, desperate wail, the kind that a mortally wounded animal might give out, as if her very heart was rent out of her chest and thrown into the fiery pit.

She wanted to jump in after her Master, and would have, but for Boromir’s interference. Unmoved by her screams of protest, he had hoisted her up over his shoulder and heeded the Wizard’s last bidding. He ran.

He ran after the others, despite the army of orcs upon their tail and despite her angry trashing in his grip. He ran to the open sky and to safety, so that they both could live to fight another day.

But right now it did not look like she had any fight left in her. They were, all of the Fellowship, cooped up on the border of Caras Galadhorn, the elven realm of Lothlorien. Aragorn and Legolas were currently negotiating their safe passage through the woodlands with the elven Marchwardens. It was a heated dispute in Sindarin, of which Boromir could catch only certain words, but he understood enough to know they were not likely to face a warm welcome.

The rest of the Fellowship had been allowed to rest. They were, all of them, in foul spirits. Gimli had been quiet ever since he had learned of the tragic fate of Balin’s Kingdom, and Boromir could only surmise that the Dwarf needed his space to fully take in the bad news. He was loath to intrude upon his friend’s quiet contemplation. Frodo and Pippin were weeping openly and Sam was trying to offer them whatever comfort he could, mostly by wiping their wet cheeks and noses time after time.

The state of Gandalf’s Pupil worried Boromir the most. Since he had carried her away from the danger, once she stopped resisting the rescue, she went completely still and quiet, her eyes unseeing. She had not spoken a word, not responded to any attempts at conversation. He could only suspect she was in some sort of shock. He’d seen it on the battlefield enough times to recognize the signs. It made sense;  as Boromir understood it, Mithrandir had been a father figure to the woman, someone she considered family. In a way, with the Wizard, her entire life had fallen down that chasm. He felt helpless; he wanted to console her, but the sheer magnitude of her loss left him overwhelmed.

He felt a tug at his gambeson and looked down. It was Meriadoc.

“Go to her,” the Hobbit whispered.

“I… I would not presume. I do not know what to say to her,” Boromir confessed, dejected.

“Then do not say anything,” Merry insisted. “Just go there and hold her,” he added. “Trust me, it will help.”

Boromir took a hesitant step in her direction. Then another. He spared a thought to his appearance… he was bone-tired, aching and covered in goblin ichor head to toe. Not exactly conducive to physical intimacy. Then again, she was in a similar state, and, really, vanity was the least of their concerns.

Tentatively, he sat next to her on the wooden platform. Up close he could see that, although she was sitting motionless and staring ahead, her eyes were damp. The tears had washed away the dust from her face, forming clean streaks down her cheeks.

He had long since stopped regarding her as merely Gandalf’s Apprentice, or just an ally in a dangerous quest. Instead, upon seeing the state she was in, his heart wept with her…

*

Gone. 

Her mind could not comprehend it. Everything she had learned about the Wizard during their life together contradicted this truth. Her Master could not die, he was simply too powerful, too wise, too… godly, for the mundane laws of life and death to apply to him. And yet, what had happened - happened. She’d seen it with her own eyes and his fall would now play out in her mind again and again, each time shattering the ground that she had built her life on.

Such kindness, such wealth of knowledge as her Master’s would never again grace Middle Earth, she was sure of it. And now that light was gone. Extinguished forever with a mere flick of a monster’s whip.

What shall I do now? Wherever shall I go? she wondered. Was she even welcome in the Fellowship anymore? Ever since she could remember, she had been Gandalf’s Pupil. And now that there was no Gandalf, who was she? A nobody. Aragorn and Frodo likely had no use for a nobody. But such thoughts were too painful to bear in her current state. So, instead she let them go and simply drifted in the darkness of her inner world, that was now forever marred by grief. She did not know where she was, or how much time had passed. A million years wouldn’t be enough to mourn her Master.

The first thing, the first sensation that managed to break through the dark shroud that surrounded her consciousness, was that of the warmth of another. Someone’s arm was on her back, rubbing gentle, soothing circles. Then that very same arm encircled her form and drew her into a hug. She had no wish to be consoled, she didn’t want any comfort. She wanted to cry, to wail and to tear at her clothing… But then she felt Boromir’s familiar presence. Him, she could let close. He had been a comfort to her during their travels many a time. She relaxed gradually and let her head fall back to find support against him.

Slowly but surely, his steadying touch made her come back to her senses and to the present moment. She was seated on the forest floor, she noted, in Lothlorien most likely, if her geographical knowledge had not failed her. Boromir was seated next to her, his back propped against one of the giant trees. He was also holding her in his arms, close to his chest and stroking her shoulder soothingly. His cheek rested atop her head. She had no strength nor care left in her to wonder what this closeness could mean for the two of them. She was just… immensely relieved and thankful for the comfort that his arms offered. She was at her lowest and most wretched, and yet he was willing to share that moment with her. For that, she would be forever thankful.

Boromir’s compassion moved her and tears spilled down her cheeks once again. Against her wishes she started sobbing. She felt the Man next to her stir. For a moment, she thought he would let go of her and leave her to her sorrow. Instead, Boromir tightened his embrace. Then he gently but surely pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“...mise me you’ll never do that again.” She realised he was whispering something to her halfway through his sentence.

“Never do what?” she asked.

“You… Back at the Bridge… at Khazad-dum,” he said quietly, “you wanted to jump after him, didn’t you?” This was no question. “I couldn’t bear it,” he said simply. “Promise me you’ll live.”

“What reason to live do I have left?” she asked. There was no bite to her words, just a simple statement of the facts, as they appeared to her.

“I could help you find a new purpose, if you would but let me,” he whispered to her ear and held her fast in his embrace. Against her better judgement, and despite their tragic circumstances, her heart did a flip. 

“Boromir, I…” she began, but her sentence was cut short when she felt a firm shove upon her side.

“Oi! Move!” a voice sounded from behind her. She turned around and saw the four Hobbits standing next to the tree. “Make some space for us! We all need a hug, and you’re hoarding all the best cuddles to yourself,” said Pippin and sniffed.

She regarded the Halflings: their red, puffy eyes and their wet cheeks. They were grieving too, no less than she was. Even so, Pippin was making an attempt at levity. For her sake, to help her bear the pain, she realised. The little ones had the gift of laughter, and it would not fail them even in their darkest hour.

Suddenly, her purpose became clear to her anew: Gandalf had bid her to take care of the Hobbits. And so she would continue to do that. Her Master might be gone, but his legacy yet lived. It lived through her, through the Fellowship, and their quest. She would not abandon them now.

“Of course, Master Peregrin,” she said, her voice creaky from all the crying. “There is cuddles enough for everyone.” And so Meriadoc weaselled his way between her and Boromir, and the rest of the Hobbits piled up atop them like hens on the roost.

*

“Do you think we ought to wake them?” asked Legolas. The Elf and Aragorn were back from their negotiations with the Marchwardens. The Lady of the Golden Forest had intervened on their behalf, and so not only the passage was now open to them, they would be provided rest and comfort in Caras Galadhorn. What the Elf and the Ranger did not expect was the sight of all their companions, even the Dwarf Gimli, passed out from grief and exhaustion atop one another in one giant group hug.

“Let them rest a while,” said Aragorn gently. “After what we've all been through, I’ve half the mind to join them myself.”

[fanfiction masterpost]

#lord of the rings fanfiction #lotr fanfiction #lotr headcanons #boromir #boromir x oc #gandalf #[arda] #ass deep in demons #ass deep in asks

[doodle-pops]

House of Feanor | Getting Into A Fight For Their S/O

Request: hi, your personal kdrama obsessed anon here: Can I request a HC reactions of the feanorians (bonus Finrod too please) of their s/o willing to attend to their wounds after they get into a fight with someone - 🌊anon

A/N: No Finrod since you asked for the House of Feanor. Finrod can be requested with his House next time or with random characters :)

Feanor

You would have to rush to get his sons and more guards to pull him off the poor offender before he finished them off.

Shouts of profanities and threats to end them the next time he saw them in public.

He’d be fighting his own sons to throw them off so he could dive back onto the person. You would have to stand before him and hold his face to redirect his attention to you.

Coos and whispers wouldn’t really calm him down immediately, his sons would have to remove him from the scene so you could attend to his injuries.

He’d be inching to break free and have at it again, but you weren’t letting him go so easily. He needed treatment.

“That bastard was lucky my sons pulled me off. I’d tear his face off the next time I see him.”

You would be rolling your eyes at his antics, only to apply ointment to the area injured to shut him up. “Would you just calm down?” “I'm completely calm!” he softly said.

Maedhros

Maedhros is a force to reckon with and when he’s seething mad and seeing red, I don’t know how anyone can get him off the person.

Not overly muscular and bulky, but he has strength and power which makes it nearly impossible to pull him off.

It would take Fingon and Celegorm to tug Maedhros off the poor offender and drag him off to a secluded area for you to assess him.

You’d be dancing before your lover in an attempt to get him to focus on you and not the crowd behind, but he was determined to finish what he started.

Silently brooding and mumbling under his breath while dancing his eyes to get a good look at the person, only for you to grip his face and yank it to meet yours.

“I think you should let me go – ouch!” you would ignore his complaints as you continued to clean him up, feeling his gaze locked on you.

The only way to get him to remain seated is to bribe him with kisses so his injuries would heal. Would definitely wrap an arm around your waist and nuzzle your stomach like an apologetic cat with some huffs.

Maglor

He’s perhaps the deadliest and scariest of all his siblings when he becomes angry.

He’d move so quick, that his siblings wouldn’t be able to snatch him until he landed on the offender.

Maglor would be easy to drag off, but his glare would make everyone shiver to their core as he stares at the perpetrator.

You would hum a familiar tune for Maglor to stop seeing red and focus his attention on you.

He would be ashamed that you had to see him in that manner and would remain quiet during the entire cleaning-up process.

“I’m sorry you had to see that; it wasn’t my – what was that for?” you’d give him a kiss on the cut to his upper lip to heal.

This would make him feel better but still guilty about his altercation.

Celegorm

I don’t know how you’re getting this hunk of an elf off someone he’s fighting but good luck to anyone that attempts to prevent it.

Celegorm is swinging at anyone who attempts to stop him. His hands are rated E for everyone and anyone.

But let’s say you do manage to drag him off, he cursing and shouting and wiggling to get out of his brother’s grasp. You probably have to knock him in his head for him to wake up.

He’s silent and brooding the entire time getting healed. Grumbling under his breath about going back after them to finish what was started. The only way to calm him would be to sweet-talk him.

“If you behave, I’ll give you some kisses and cuddles and more.” It works all the time. He expects you to mean your words though, otherwise, he’s finding that person.

Celegorm would pull you in and have his arms wrapped around you allowing you to baby him so more.

Caranthir

The one person who didn’t want for you to witness him in such disarray. He’s livid and has already cut through the crowd for the person.

It would take Celegorm and Maedhros to drag him off while you stood at the side observing his frenzied state.

You would have to step in to calm him because if you don’t, he’s ripping himself out of his brother’s arms.

Coos and soft touches to his face bring his focus in and avert his attention to his injuries. His knuckles would be bruised and bloodied from all the hitting.

Caranthir wouldn’t want you to spend your time cleaning him up because he was ashamed, but you didn’t let his reason stop you from taking care of him.

Hugs and kisses to his forehead would be given and you would drag him inside your home to blow some steam off.

Curufin

It would take a lot to make this Feanorian fistfight someone because he isn’t the physical violent type, more the manipulative type, but hey, he’s throwing hands in this headcanon.

Curufin is just as deadly as his brothers so Celegorm would be the safer of them to drag him off and put him in the time-out corner.

Disgruntled like his father and throwing around threats and insults at the person. He’d attempt to fight his way out of Celegorm’s grip, but it's Celegorm, so no escaping.

He’s going to be ultimately grumpy and would refuse to acknowledge your presence because someone was still seething and itching to throw hands. You’re going to have to grip his face and pull it to face you.

Might have to be a bit rough with him to gain his attention. “Ouch. That was awfully harsh – can’t you be a bit gentler? I just got hit to my face.”

It would take you a while to realize that Curufin was only attempting to defend your name, so being harsh on him was unnecessary. You’d sit on his lap and give him a few kisses to cool his steam.

Amrod

The more rambunctious of his twin who’s always looking out for both you and Amras would be the one to involve himself in greater altercations.

His older brothers would easily pull him off the perpetrator while he spewed the deadliest things past his lips. Typical Feanorian behaviour.

His twin would rush in first to calm his brother down before you stepped in to assess his injuries. Little scraps and cuts would be adorning Amrod’s hands and face since the person fought back.

 Amrod would be hesitant to look you in the eye since this would give you the opportunity to assess his Feanorian temper you’ve always heard about.

“You’re such a hot-temper little ginger baby Amrod.” “Baby? I’m no baby.”

You’d tease him to lighten the atmosphere and tell him that he’s a baby because you now had to take care of him. He’d be pouty about it, so long as you comforted him with cuddles later.

Amras

Being the quieter of the twins, Amras's actions would go almost unnoticed when he strikes to action the offender.

Quick his brothers would be to drag him off the person even though he refuses to let them go.

Similar to Amrod, his twin would rush to calm him down before you join him to clean up any injuries and scold him.

He’d be grumbling and refuse to converse with you believing that your displeased state meant that he had no right defending you. To him, he felt as though it was necessary.

Throughout the clean-up, he’d shift his eyes over to peek at your expression and observe how concentrated you were on stitching him up. This would make him feel a bit sad since you ended up spending your time fixing him instead of enjoying yourself.

“I’m really sorry love, I just wanted to do something.” “I know Amras, and I love you.”

Celebrimbor

Anyone who attempted to insult the grandson of the elf who literally combusted into flames without a care in the world while cursing Morgoth is foolish.

He’s a hammer-swinging Feanorian who hates the fact that he has his family’s hastiness and anger and is bulky enough to knock you over with one gentle swing.

His guards would have to pry him over the offender as they insulted you for courting him. Celebrimbor didn’t care about the slurs they threw at him, all that mattered were the slurs thrown at you.

He does suffer a few bruises to the knuckles from how hard he threw his fist and the little scuffle him the offender had, but it’s not much.

Celebrimbor doesn’t wish to be around you because he’s embarrassed that you had to see him in what he considers, the worse state. Just find this big baby and give him some kisses while cleaning his wounds.

Lock the door and sit on him, that way, he doesn’t leave your embrace and you could get the job done. He’s quiet during the entire process and refuses to make eye contact but nuzzle his cheeks and pull him in for some cuddles and he’ll mellow out.

Masterlist

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