#will they ever be shared outside a very small circle? almost certainly no

[senselessalchemist]

0 sense of self preservation + same taste in women

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#saroart #dead cells #the beheaded #the time keeper #the collector #tumblr may completely ruin these with cropping RIP #i'm sorry people who enjoy dead cells for inflicting my nonsense on you #anyway i generally try to stay away from the extremely shippy stuff here #do i have several beheaded/collector comics? yes i do #will they ever be shared outside a very small circle? almost certainly no #you can tell the age of the art based on the length of the horns on the collector's skulls lmao #also my favorite stupid thing is to give the skulls pupils and or expressions #edited to fix a stupid thing i thought id already taken care of

[demoisverysexy]

I feel like when it comes to leftism, I agree with just about every point you make (although there are some areas of politics that I honestly just don't know much about, so it's difficult for me to form an opinion on those things), but every time you talk about religion, it sounds like you have almost no idea what you're talking about. It also seems like you only bring up religious drama so you can be like "lol y'all mad" anytime anyone criticizes mormonism or challenges your views. The only reason I'm still following you is because you reblog a lot of nice furry art that I otherwise wouldn't see on my dash, but you're more and more on thin ice every time I see one of your posts or reblogs about religion. It you're going to talk about religion, maybe do some actual research and listen to others outside of your small circle of "progressive mormons." The majority of the lds church is full of conservative bigots, and pretending it's not is just going to cause more harm than good.

Hi. Thanks for your thoughts.

I presume this is in answer to my question about whether people like to hear my thoughts. You certainly have answered my question here, and I appreciate your honesty and candor. I hope it's okay that I use this as a place to address some of the points youve brought up, and my thoughts both on Mormonism, and religion in general. If you ever have more questions, always feel free to reach out to me through a DM. Though I can appear cantankerous and argumentative on my blog, in reality, I am always down for a chat, and I appreciate the opportunity to set aside differences and talk.

Ok, so let's get into it.

To be honest, I am a bit surprised that you think my leftist arguments are things you agree with, while my religious arguments you think I dont know what I am talking about, and am out to get peoples attention and get people upset. If anything, I feel the opposite is more usually true. If I recall correctly, most of the times I have been looking to rile peoples feathers with my takes was when I was posting leftist political shit, such as most recently when I brought the wrath of tankie tumblr upon me by saying I thought it was a shame they were the face of leftism on tumblr. When it comes to my religious takes, while I sometimes can be a bit cheeky, I try to be more careful and reserved (though this time that didnt work out: while I think a lot of the hate I am getting isnt warranted, I see why some of my wording got people upset). In fact, religion is more of my strong suit than politics, to be honest. And while, yes, I do get obnoxious and crass when people challenge me on my Mormonism a lot, that is less interesting to me than having dialogues with people about religious belonging and furthering productive discourse. In fact, right now I am working on a few essays in that vein that I hope to share soon, which I hope will show how deeply and carefully I do think about these things.

As to the points about me not talking about issues more broad than the circle of progressive Mormons that I interact with on tumblr, I both agree and disagree with you. On the one hand, I agree that there is more I can do to learn more about religions outside of Mormonism. I have been wanting for a while to study Judaism, Islam, and Buddhism, though not necessarily in that order. I never quite get around to it, to my shame. I do try to at least listen to voices outside of my religious bubble, though I could do more there. Everyone could, I think.

On the other hand, I disagree that I dont do enough to focus on the sins of my church. I am very aware of them, and have spoken out against them numerous times. I even try to associate and listen to former Mormons and people who have left (I need to do better here, in all honesty), and to speak out where I can against my church's bad policies.

And bad policies there are aplenty. Where to begin. We have a history of racism, sexism, imperialism, queerphobia, and more. In our history, we have committed atrocities, opposed gay marriage and the equal rights amendment, and more. People have criticised the missionary program for imperialism, and preying upon vulnerable people (fair criticisms, I think). The church has been a source of pain for far too long for far too many, and there is much that needs to be done to begin to right our wrongs. I do what I can to keep aware of that, and speak out where I can.

But at the end of the day, being Mormon isnt only about being ashamed of my churchs wrongs. It is about drawing closer to Christ, and helping my fellow Mormons do the same. It is about doing good where I can. This is what I try to do more than anything else with my religious sentiments I share on tumblr. It is not meant to ignore the wrongs my church, which are legion, but rather to help out people like me, queer Mormons who are looking for a place where they are heard, and where they can belong. I need to do more to that end, and I do get caught in the weeds of the internet sometimes. But I do try.

If at the end of the day, you decide that I am someone who is married to a bad church and wont stop standing up for them even though theyre awful, and I'm not doing enough to listen to others: that is your judgement to make. At the end of the day, as rational and impartial as I try to be, I am prone to be biased in favor of myself. Perhaps you see something in me that I am failing to see in myself. And at the end of the day, if I am a source of frustration or annoyance on your blog, you can always unfollow me, or block any tags that get you upset. I wont lie and say I wouldnt be hurt by that, but I would understand. But I hope that you can see that I am trying to listen, to learn, and to help where I can. I have a long way to go, and today has taught me that, and humbled me in some ways I didnt realize I needed. But if nothing else, I am trying to be better at this. I hope you can forgive me for that.

#mormonism #religion #queerstake #asks #demo answers

[missblissy]

Hello! I hope you are doing okay! Could I please request alastor x reader headcanons of them getting married? Thank you!

(( *girlish squeal* @u@ Yes. Enjoy.))

How could he be this nervous? He was never this nervous. Not ever. Not even when he proposed to you, and that was probably the most terrifying moment of his life but he still held his nerves and controlled himself. So why couldn't he do that now?

"Relax Al... Your face looks like it's about to fall off." Relax? How? How could he relax? He looked at Charlie in the reflection of the mirror, then at Angel. They both looked unsettled by him. Maybe he did look a little too... unnatural with the way his smile seemed to almost tear his skin. Alastor took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, "What if she changes her mind?" He asked.

Angel laughed at that, "Nah. Not her." Somehow that didn't help "If she wanted to leave your ass she would have by now, dude." Okay... that helped a little. Charlie smacked Angel's arm and waved him away, "Everything's going to be fine," She said, "Vaggie and Nifty are with here right now. And you have to go out soon- before her."

Okay... Okay! He was getting married today, to the woman who once literally stole his heart. I guess a perk of being dead is you don't really need a heart, but he was glad you were the one who stole it figuratively and literally. He's never done anything like this. You were his first for everything on the list of firsts. So maybe he was nervous because deep down inside he knew he could fuck this up. That was the last thing he wanted.

He took in another long and deep breath, but this time as he exhaled he bestowed a smile on his face, opening his eyes with a glimmer of a red hue glowing to life. He could do this, "Let's get this show started."

You sat still and fought the urge to sneeze as you felt the dusting of a brush polish the last of your makeup. You half-listened to Vaggie and Nifty's conversation. Something about how beautiful the hotel was. Something else about how this was probably the most informal wedding ever. No one wore white to this wedding. Black and red only, with gold here and there, at your request of course.

"G-guys- I think that's good on the-" You tried saying, but Nifty hushed you quickly, "Stop! I'm almost done! You have to look perfect!" Did you though? This whole thing was supposed to be small and simple but somehow somewhere along the lines from then and now... Well, that didn't happen, "Alastor has never been married before. At least you had that when you were alive!" Wasn't this supposed to be the bride's day?

You finally got to open your eyes and take in your own form. It was easy for your to say you were most certainly more beautiful than when you were alive for your first wedding. You thought how ironic that was seeing as you were a demon now. But it was the dress the really sold you on it all. The entire length of it was black as night. You felt like a princess with how long the tail of the dress stretched behind you. The dark and exquisite embroidery laced up your arms and down your dress.

"You can't forget these," Vaggie said, she stood at your side as she handed you your bouquet. You laughed quickly, you had forgotten. There was one exception for white. You reached down and let your fingers trace along with the white petals of the flower. You giggled again and thought, Alastor will get a laugh at these. The soft but bright glow of the yellow within the Poet's Narcissus complimented their white outer petals. Otherwise known as a very fancy daffodil. The poor man was named after the damn things, after all. There was s reason he didn't like to share his full name. His mother would be at the wedding too, as well, so the bouquet might also win a few points with her, "Are you ready?" Vaggie asked. You took in a deep breath, brought the flowers to your nose, and soaked their scent in. As you exhaled you looked to her and nodded your head, "I'm ready."

Everything was perfect, at least for the two of you. It didn't really matter to either of you that anyone else was there. Every moment was picture perfect, from the aisle to the ceremony, the I'do's. Even the part where Alastor was hesitant but more so shy to kiss you in front of all those people. For a man who loved living upon a stage, he sure was nervous of the crowd and all the eyes on him for once. But you found that endearing, and honestly adorable as well. Now there was supposed to be a reception, very modern ya' know. It's the 21st century, people do those things. Everyone was on their way there... but not you. Nor your husband. Like I said, you were supposed to.

But very much like Alastor to be stuck in his era, he found a way to convince you to run away with him, "We gave everyone the ceremony. We don't need to go to some silly party and listen to people talk about us. I just want it to be us, we can go right now. Anywhere you want, I will take us there." You were standing beside him, just outside the reception hall. You could hear all the guests inside waiting for the two of you. You thought over what Alastor said. An idea sparked in your mind and you gave him a coy look, "Can you... take us to the surface?"

He raised a brow but still smirked back at you, "Is the pope catholic?" He jested, that was his way of saying yes. Then he gave a snap of his fingers. The two of you were masked in human forms, "Where to, my love?"

Alastor held his arm out to you. With a smile you curled your arm around his, linking them together, "Have you ever been to Paris?" You saw the interest flicker on his face. He tipped his head slightly and grinned, "No, but I will be soon, care to come, my dear?" You laughed as he gave a wave of his hand. Ruins filled the air to form a circle the tore open a portal. With shared giggles, the two of you left just in time before anyone could ever find you.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #reader insert #headcanons #cute #fluffy #alastor x you #blissy writes #anon #nonny #asks

[plush-rabbit]

Mental Toll - Brothers.

Request: My mom kicked me out, her 15 year old daughter out of her house. And I've been staying with my aunt but everything is taking a mental toll on me . Can I get a Beel, mammon, Leviathan, or asmo comfort?

A/N: Sweetheart, I’m sorry for this. It can be all so difficult for you, but please take care of yourself. Remember that nothing is your fault, you’re a child, you’re gonna be okay. Please don’t keep these emotions bottled up (im also assuming this is comfort on your situation, so yeah)

-

Mammon:

You’ll always have a place with him. He’s taken on a guardian role for you and while he might have hated it at first, he’s grown attached to you. Your guardians in the Human Realm don't matter. They decided to leave you, so now you’re here with him and he isn’t going to abandon you anytime soon. Mammon may not know what to do when he finds you crying and unable to speak, but he cares and he’ll try to show that to you, telling you that you can bunk with him for the night- you get to take his bed and he’ll sleep on the couch, you don’t have to be alone.

He isn’t exactly the best at comforting, using a bit too many words only to come up short, but once that initial nervousness wears off, he’s comforting. He’s taken care of a child before- granted they were much younger, and was then put into the care of witches- he knows what a scared kid looks like. He’ll offer what he can to you and let you rest your head on his bicep as he listens to you ramble about what happened. He won’t ever push for you to talk, but it might help sort out all those feelings that are bubbling up inside of you.

Of course it’s difficult for the both of you. He isn’t too knowledgeable about the mentality and fragility of a human mind and emotions but he can assume to be essentially kicked out of a parent’s home can be rough. He’s dealt with it before even if he knew the risks. He remembers the nights of pain and agony, the silent suffering that was thick in the air, and the lack of self-care. He comes in with a small meal every day, grabbing random vitamins that he thinks might be good for you, and just lets you rest. You see a more hidden side of Mammon, the one that cares too much, that acts almost like a parental figure and have a comforting smile and gives nice hugs.

You aren’t free to rest forever. He’s also seen what that kind of damage that can do to someone's mental health. He won’t ever pressure you to go out and do something you don’t want to, but you do have to move from the spot on his bed. You can hide yourself in his room for as long as you want, but you can’t live your life stuck in a bed. He knows that that isn’t good for anyone. You’ll have all the space that you could want and need, but you need to also talk to him and take care of yourself.

It’s his role as your guardian to take care of you and make sure that nothing bad would happen to you- you being in the Human Realm makes no difference to that. You’re still under his protection and he’ll take care of you as much as he can. Mammon can be brash, and have his sin take over, but it isn’t all that he is. He can be selfless and take care of you and let you just relax around him. There’s no pressure put on you and he’ll protect you. He promises that- he’s a demon, he’s lived for a long time and he’ll live for an even longer time and as long as he’s around, he’ll protect you.

Leviathan:

Coming to Leviathan is certainly a choice. He cares- of course he does! But, he doesn’t know what to do. Of course he knows how it feels, but it was different and so long ago and buried under memories and the fictional world, that he chose to forget that. It’s different with you. You’re a child who’s crying and at a loss for a parent that left them and it must hurt. He’s awkward, but he’ll sit by you and have a hand on your back telling you to take all the time that you need. He’s always here in his room after all, so you can always find him.

In the beginning, he doesn’t know what to do. Surely, there should be words or tips online that could help him translate his words and feelings better than “that sucks.” An apology feels so fake and unsure and he doesn't want that for you. You deserve something real, an actual meaningful interaction that might help you but he comes up blank. He doesn’t know what exactly he should say, so he just lets you rest beside him as he tells you his own encounter with abandonment and what helped him.

He tries to make you feel better in a way that helps him- via distractions. It helped him and maybe it could help you. You like to spend time with him so you both must share some type of interest in common. He feels so proud of himself when he offers you to read his manga or play some of his games. It’s a nice distraction and depending on what you choose, it can be a great way to just open up emotions and see what could effectively help trigger just that blockade of emotions for the both of you. You don’t have to do it, but it proves to be nice to just immerse yourself in some fictional tale.

Eventually, he starts to read what you read once you’ve fallen asleep. You gravitated towards it for a reason and it’s easier to talk to you like that. You get to be the hero, the protagonist or whoever you want, and he knows the struggles that they go through. He can help through an outside glance. It starts off simple, just him mentioning comments, prying for information about why you like a certain character and then in just a blink of an eye, you’re crying. You opened up and he’s by your side.

Comforting you is a bit awkward, but what could he expect. He sits by you and lets you talk through your emotions even if it makes no sense- your words are garbled and out of order- but he gets the main point of it. Leviathan understands that you’re hurting and who wouldn’t be. You’re a child, and the love of a parental figure means a lot. He might not be confident to have that type of relationship with you, but he can certainly be a big brother who lets you come into his room and sleep in a futon that he has when you’re feeling particularly lonely.

Asmodeus:

His eyes are sad, the usual glow and glimmer dimmed and his smile once beautiful and stretched, it pulled into a soft frown. Even in sadness, he still looks beautiful. With a gentle pull, he brings you into his room, and lets you set your stuff down on the floor. Asmodeus holds your face in his hands and gingerly wipes away your tears. You’ve had such a long day and it’s no secret that he has the best bath in the house, so he lets you go use it in order to destress, just enough to clean yourself and have time to gather your feelings and thoughts.

The room is suited to him and to only him, but he figures that you wouldn’t want to be alone. He has to rid some of the extra pillows on the bed, rid of the stronger scents in the room in order to not congest you more, and just declutter his room a bit more. It’s suited for him, a demon who can and lives for the finer things, but for you, he needs you to be able to breathe. The sheets are replaced, the towel that he has set for you soft and fluffy and the clothes clean and smelling like the house, a much better scent than the stitched to your clothes. He sends it to you via magic, wanting you to come to him when you’re ready.

When you approach him, he gives you a comforting smile and pats the bed beside him. He grabs your hand and massages it slowly, telling you that he’ll be here for you if you need anything. You can talk to him or choose not to, and he won’t pressure you in the slightest. You can take your time to talk to him. He feels a bit bad that he can’t tell you that everything will be okay, he knows it will, so sure of it that he’d bet himself on it, but it isn't what you want to hear. You just need to know that he’s right there by your side.

For now, you’re okay. You’re safe in his room and he likes being an older brother- at least to a few. He likes to spoil people rotten, and he gets to do that with you. You get to have everything good and shiny. You’re going to be okay when you stick with him, because he won’t let anything happen to you. He’s going to be your new home, your new big brother.

The process is tough, and he doesn’t rush anything. It’s subtle with Asmodeus and being ever so careful with his appearance, he makes sure to take care of yours. Mental health is so fragile and he just wants you to be okay. He’ll offer substitutions if certain activities can feel a bit too difficult for you, but he doesn’t push too much. You still have to take care of yourself and it might feel overbearing, but he needs to take care of you.

Beelzebub:

Family means everything to Beelzebub. At the very end of it, it’s part of the core of who he is. He feels your pain and is empathetic when you tell him what happened and he holds you close, letting you rest on his bed as he sits on the edge with a comforting hand rubbing circles on your back. He’s a demon, he knows just how cruel others can be, and yet, to see someone hurt someone as young as you, it makes him sick.

Your tears hit him hard and he can only hug you as you cry into him about your situation. There are too many emotions inside of you and it must be so difficult for you to handle all of them and he wishes he could help take that away, but he can only hold you and make sure that you sleep in a position that won’t hurt your neck once the tears have tired you out. It’s the little things that he does for you until you come to him and explain everything to him, and he’ll listen and won’t interrupt.

During this time, he tries to not be imposing. He doesn’t want you to run from him so he’ll give you time to come to him when you’re ready. He checks up on you often, knocking on your door and entering with a few snacks. He’ll stay if you ask him and talk to you about mundane stuff. A part of him wonders if that’s really what you want to hear, but he can’t say anything different. He doesn’t know what it is that you want to hear and he doesn’t want to pressure you any further. Anyways, it seems like you like to listen to him during these moments. Maybe, he provides a nice distraction.

He’ll always make sure that he has his phone on him in case you need him. He’s told you before that you can contact him whenever you want, and that he’ll come running to you. He’s sure it’s his big brother instincts taking over. He may be the sixth brother, but it doesn’t remove the fact that he has a twin. It’s only by his power that he ranks sixth. With you, he can be a big brother and be the cool and caring type that takes care of you. You can always come to him whenever you need something and he’ll make sure to give you whatever you want.

It comes to no surprise that you two develop a strong bond and you start to stick to him and he welcomes that. He won’t leave you alone unless you ask him to and he always makes sure to include you in whatever activity he has. During lunch, he’ll sit with you and listen to you and he’s glad that you're starting to feel better around him. You’ve both grown quite attached and he tries to do good by you. Beelzebub will give you whatever you need because beside his twin, you’re the youngest in the family. He’ll reassure you that nothing is your fault, that you’re only a child and that you’ll be okay. You’ve been there for him and he’ll be there for you.

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #big brother vibes!! #for all!! #or least four #theyd care a lot #theyd be clunky and unsure how to deal with it #but they would #they care

[author-morgan]

Could I request a sub!Halfdan please? Its such an underused trope in this fandom

of courseeee. ♥ hope you enjoy this little fluffy-filth ficlet with Halfdan. :) Halfdan x fem!Reader

HARALD FINEHAIR LEANS against one of the dock posts, his arms crossed, though a kindly smile graces his countenance upon hearing the good news. Soon Tamdrup would have another young child running about, causing trouble for the townsfolk —just as he and his brother had when they were younger and wilder. He can’t help his eyes from darting to your middle. It is still too soon for the signs to show, but there is already something different —a new spark in your eyes, Freyja’s soft glow surrounding you. “You’ll have to tell him sooner or later,” Harald muses, rubbing the dark whiskers on his chin.

“I know” —you look up from the knotted fishnet laid across your lap, smiling sheepishly— “I know, Harald.” You’d been searching for the right moment for almost a fortnight now. If not for Harald catching you leaving the medicine woman’s hut with a pouch of herbs for morning sickness, he wouldn’t know either.

“He’s going be happy,” he assures you, recalling the warm spring evening you wed his brother —a crown of wildflowers upon your brow. That must have been some six years ago, in the weeks before sailing to join Ragnar Lothbrok in his raids on Frankia and Paris. Harald doesn’t think he’s ever seen Halfdan so happy as when he first called you his wife, but he suspects his brother will be just as ecstatic when you share the good news.

“We’ve waited years for this day to come,” you almost whisper, still disbelieving at times. Over the years, you had begun to fear the worse —even before your marriage to Halfdan. All the times you lay together, there was never a child, never any signs life would take root, and it certainly was not for lack of trying. He swore it did not make a difference to him. Halfdan loved you, child or no —but as the years crept by, you couldn’t deny your desire for a family, especially seeing him play at swords with the children of Tamdrup. Alas, the gods finally heeded your prayers. Harald moves from the post to the small sandy shore, sitting next to you, helping unknot and repair the fishnet. You nudge his ribs with your elbow. “You’re going to be an uncle.” Harald smiles again.

THE WOOD PLANKS creak underfoot just outside your chambers, iron hinges creak and groan when the heavy door is pushed ajar, you lift your gaze from the heddles of the loom, glimpsing your husband’s reflection in a cloudy silver looking glass as he nears you. His arms snake around your waist, pulling you away from your work and into him. He’s been on a hunt the last three days —the scent of moss and fresh soil still linger in his clothes and beard. It’s always a good feeling being held like this, but you cannot forget your resolve. You were supposed to be upset with him, and the soft kiss on your shoulder and neck won’t be enough to get him out of this. “I’m not speaking to you, Halfdan,” you remind him, wiggling from his embrace.

He lets you go, laughing under his breath. “You just did,” he remarks, lips kinked into a playful smile, half-hidden beneath the golden whiskers on his upper lip and chin. Halfdan knows this bout will pass —quick as a summer storm— neither of you can stay angry at each other over trivial things. “Still mad?” It’s a teasing question and one he already knows the answer to when you glare at him, arms crossed.

“Yes,” you lament, “you ate the last honey cake.” You saved the last little honey cake from supper, knowing how much you’d begun craving them of late, but when you woke the next morning, Halfdan was already off to help his brother, and the plate on the table tucked away in the corner of the room was empty save for crumbs.

Halfdan grips onto your arms, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your biceps through the wool sleeves of your dress. You know when he’s trying to be charming —his smiles are wider, he flicks the hair falling over his right eye to the side, and his eyes, dark and warm, take on a glint of mischief. “And I regret it, deeply,” he confesses, embellishing his apology. His hands slide down your arms, fingers interlocking with yours. Halfdan lifts your hands —placing a quick yet lingering kiss on your knuckles, drawing you closer. “What can I do to make it up to you?” He asks.

“Trying to seduce me?” You ask, brow raised —feigning annoyance. But it’s close to impossible when he cranes down, lips hovering over yours. He’s so close you can almost feel the tickle of his beard.

“Maybe,” he muses, letting your hands go and seizing you by the hips, fingers twisting into the green wool of your dress, “it’s worked in the past, hasn’t it?” You shake your head, smiling, unable to resist his charms or your desire to fall into his arms after he’s left you in a cold and lonely bed.

At first, he tenses when your hands slide up his chest to his shoulders, then relaxes when your tilt your chin up, pulling the two of you closer. “Kiss me, husband,” you whisper —it’s a command and one he is happy to oblige. His lips brush against yours, teasing when he pulls back a little before surging forward again. You sigh into his kiss, hands moving to rest on his neck and jaw. His tongue parts your lips, and you welcome him with a soft moan, pushing your hand through his hair.

He draws back, just long enough to take a deep breath and move his hands from your hips and to your face, cupping your cheeks as he kisses you again —this time with more fervor, and it sends heat rushing to the pits of your belly. Frantically, you pull at his tunic, hands sliding beneath the hem to feel his warm skin and the muscles of his abdomen ripple under your touch. Halfdan groans when he breaks away, pulling his tunic overhead and tossing it aside without care —eyes dark with lust when you run your hands across his pectorals.

“I want you, Halfdan,” you tell him, pushing his shoulders back toward the bed, “now.” He falls onto the mattress when the back of his knees hit —the wooden frame creaking at the sudden impact of his weight— and watches as you slide your dress off your shoulders, letting it pool around your ankles. Halfdan groans at the sight of your newly naked skin as your stride to him, a playful and teasing glint in your eyes.

Leaning over him, your hands go the laces of his britches —quickly untying them— and fingers hook underneath the waistband, tugging them off. Halfdan helps you, lifting his hips, hurriedly shimmying them off for you to toss to the side. You sit back, really taking in the sight of him. Half his face shrouded behind his wild blond hair, his eyes are glassy and half-lidded, pupils blown wide with want. You smile, enjoying having him like this —with a dusting of a pinkish-blush all over, from his cheeks to his ears and even down his neck. His lips are wet and bitten pink from your kisses, mouth hanging open slightly as his chest —a smooth plane of taut muscle— rises and falls with his labored breathing. Then your gaze darts to his cock, painfully hard and resting against his stomach.

Halfdan isn’t one to give up control easily, but he’ll let you have your fun for now —he owes you this at the very least for eating the last honey cake. His gaze is like burning embers when you straddle him. His hands drag down the arch of your back, thumbs catching in the creases of your hips and thighs to push you back towards his cock, but you won’t let him win so easily. You reach for his hands, pulling them away from your hips, and press them into the mattress on either side of his head. Straightening, you let his hands go but give him a look of warning —one that tells him not to move. The defiance flares in his eyes, but you smile, bending down to lick a stripe across his chest and are rewarded with his low groan.

Moving back up, you press your lips firmly against his, offering him little control —nibbling light on his bottom lip— enjoying playing with him for as long as you can. Opening your mouth to his, Halfdan attempts to push forward with a moan and deepen the kiss, but you pull away, hands resting on his chest. “I see why you like this so much,” you tease, lightly raking your nails down his ribs, watching him shiver. “Do I make you beg too?” You ask, looking down at him with a raised brow.

“Kjære min,” he warns, voice a low rasp, but whatever he means to say next dies on the tip of his tongue as a strangled groan. His hips press up off the bed when your fingers wrap around his cock, stroking him from base to tip, thumb following along one of the throbbing veins on the underside. You shuffle back, eagerly, guiding the weeping head of his cock between your slick folds until it catches on the entrance of your aching cunt, and you press back further until the slight resistance gives way, sinking onto him with a lurid moan —echoed by his own strangled groan and a string of curses.

You fall still, not moving —torture for you both— but seeing Halfdan’s hands twist into the patchwork of pelts below is worth it. Alas, you end the torment, slowly rocking and twisting your hips, building a pleasant rhythm, working yourself on top of him. His lips are parted, breathing heavily as he watches you use him —watches how your cunt takes him in over and over again, a sight that drives him to oblivion and paired with how you whimper and moan, hands fondling your breasts, he thinks he could finish then and there.

But then you lift yourself, pulling off him just far enough that only the tip of his cock is left inside you before sinking back down, hips meeting his again. He digs his heels into the bed, attempting to aid you as you bounced and twisted atop him. “Halfdan,” you whimper, knowing you need more than this —you need his touch. He’s quick to answer the soft pleading, hands squeezing against your hips, arms flexing to lift and drag you across his cock himself as his hips roll upwards, pressing deeper it feels than ever before.

Leaning down, you press your lips to his —panting against his mouth as your chests move against one another, hips rolling and filling the room with the unceremonious sound of flesh slapping against flesh and a chorus of low moans and breathy praises. You rest your forehead on his, hand tanging into his hair as the knot in your belly tightens, a familiar warmth starting to take old at your extremities. Halfdan hears the subtle hitch in your breathing, feels your walls flutter around him, gripping onto his cock —a greedy vise, but he won’t relent until you’re both spent.

It doesn’t take much longer for Halfdan to let go, his hips stuttering, cock twitching deep inside you —filling you with warmth. The way you move, rolling against him, causes your clit to catch on his pubic bone, just right, giving you the friction you need to fall too, calling out his name like a prayer. You don’t have the strength to keep going. All your energy sapped away —shoulders shaking, elbows ready to give. Halfdan urges you down to rest on his chest, and you tuck your face into the underside of his jaw, breathing heavily, smiling against his neck when you feel the tickle of his beard against your cheek. His arms come around you, heavy and secure, holding you close and tight. Other than the sound of your breathing mixing with his, there is only the drumming of your own heartbeat in your ears and the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth.

For a handful of precious moments, you stay like that —too sluggish to move— the pads of his rough fingertips tracing a crooked path up and down your spine. It isn’t until you feel his softened cock slip from your warmth and his seed trickling down your thighs that you clench and sit up again —knees still jelly. Then you look over Halfdan. He’s ruined —hair in a mess, clinging to his sweat-slick forehead, cheeks flushed red with exertion. But his eyes are closed, and his breathing relaxed. “Still mad?” He asks, one warm-brown eye popping open to look up at you —skin glowing in the mix of daylight and firelight.

“No,” you laugh, leaning back down —nose just barely brushing against his, your breaths mingling. Halfdan’s hands follow the curve of your hips, along your waist, and across your shoulders before taking your face in both his hands. You smile, balancing your weight on one forearm, reaching to brush back the strands of yellow hair clinging to his face, pausing for a moment to trace the lines and twists of his tattoo. He tilts his chin up, surprising you with his kiss, and rolls both of you onto your sides.

“Halfdan,” you breathe, reaching for his hand resting on your hip and twining your fingers with his. His gaze is focused —intent— he’s close to asking if something is wrong or if he’s done something else besides eating your last precious honey cake when you smile, squeezing his hand before bringing it to rest on your stomach. There’s a spark in his dark eyes like he knows but is still unsure if this means what he thinks. “I am with child,” you tell him, watching his dark eyes widen with the announcement.

Halfdan falls silent; his lips parted, brow furrowed —wrinkling the blue-black ink on his forehead— almost disbelieving that after so many years, he would be a father, that you would have a family together. “Mine?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper and filled with wonder.

Your smile widens. “Of course, it’s yours, silly man,” you laugh, scooting closer to him —pressing your forehead against his, resting a hand on his neck, and letting your thumb stroke over the raised silver scar there. “You’re my husband.” Even after the years gone by, it still feels good to call Halfdan your husband.

He smiles, eyes crinkling, wrinkling the dark tattoos on his cheeks and brows as he leans into you, closing the small space between your lips. It’s soft, exceptionally so, and sweet —far sweeter than most of his kisses. Halfdan kisses a line across your cheek, pulling you close, his hand still resting against your stomach, wondering how long it will be until your belly begins to grow and if he would make for a good father. “I won’t eat your honey cakes anymore,” he breathes, earning a huff of laughter from you as you nuzzle your face into his chest, feeling your heart swell, falling further in love with him.

[ taglist: @elizabethroestone @ahotmesswithprivilege @naaladareia @charming-merlin @certifiedlittleshit @pat-talks @gossamarnie ] if you want to be added to my Vikings (Harad, Halfdan, and Ragnar) taglist, just let me know! if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you.

#Halfdan #Halfdan the Black #Halfdan x Reader #Halfdan the Black x Reader #Halfdan Imagine #Halfdan Fanfiction #Vikings Imagine #Vikings Fanfiction #my writing #requested #anonymous #that's 'my dear' in norse btw

[sunlightheidi]

Jihyun Kim "V" x Reader/MC

AU Fantasy, written for the Mystic Dance Event, hosted by the lovely @little-butterfly-writes. Roles provided, "Princess x Court Painter".

"I'll meet you in the forest, let's let this wild thing grow."

- Forest, Fancy Hagood

Jihyun was chosen from a neighboring kingdom to paint the royal family.

It was an honor, to be selected as the court artist; for his art to hang on the palace walls alongside portraits of previous kings and queens.

There are countless tales told throughout the kingdoms; stories of the ruthless king who commanded the armies, of the regal queen who could turn men into stone with a simple look.

And of the stoic crowned princess, who possessed the ethereal beauty of the fae, and the same coldness too.

He’s painted that captivating beauty on canvas more than once; has traced the dip of your collarbone, the fullness of your lips, the almond shape of your eyes with his paintbrush so many times he can do it from memory alone.

You are always seated on that golden throne when he does, decorated in sapphires and dressed in layers of silk and lace – always watching him with a sort of fascination as he paints, a sparkling wonder in your gaze.

You sit on that throne now, your head held high, waves of black hair falling down your back, and a crown of rowan berries on your brow. Your dress is golden, accentuating the sun-touched colors of your skin and the darkness of your eyes as they roam over the ballroom to the people dancing and celebrating the return of autumn.

There is a sort of hypnotic magic about you and he sees it perfectly then, how you truly could have been fairy in a past life; sparkling wings on your back, adorned in colors of orange and red and yellow as you sat on a throne of marigolds and ruled over the autumn court.

Perhaps you may have even allowed yourself to dance amongst your folk, lost in the addicting taste of pomegranates as you moved freely to the wild music.

But that is not who you are now. Not who are you expected to be.

You do not partake in the autumn celebration with your people, you are not allowed to laugh and dance in the way he knows you desire to. In the way you have so freely danced and laughed by his side in hidden corridors.

Your only purpose is to serve your kingdom, and outside of your clandestine meetings with him, you play your role flawlessly. No one would dare suggest otherwise.

If only they knew the restlessness that lingers in your heart. The same kind and wild heart you have given to him– a secret belonging to you both alone.

The music ends and you clap gently in your lap, almost unconsciously, as most of your mannerisms are – but your eyes are dazed, he knows your thoughts are elsewhere.

He has been hounded by daydreams of you as well, wishes he could stand in front of that throne and take your hand as an equal; to lead you to the ballroom floor and hold you in his arms as you sway together, just as you have done many times before in the dark.

The orchestra begins to play a new piece, something slow and soft that echoes through the ballroom; the chandeliers shimmer from the high ceiling as partners retake their place and begin a new dance.

Carefully, as to not draw attention to yourself, you stand, hands gripping the skirts of your dress as you curtsey to the king and queen, who briefly nod in your direction in permission to take your leave. He follows you with his eyes as you walk down the steps of the podium and to the large entryway, but something catches his attention – a golden satin ribbon, left behind on the seat of your throne.

You have played this game before, he knows what the token means; and when he looks up, in a single moment that freezes time, you look over your shoulder and meet his gaze. He nods in understanding, and there’s a sparkle in your eye as you close the doors behind you.

He wants to run after you, to spin you around in his arms and declare his fidelity to you in front of the world. But you are a princess…and he is only the court painter – the consequences should anyone discover you two together, of the things you have done under secrecy, would end in tragedy.

So he waits, and when the kingsmen turn to assist their majesties to the ballroom floor, Jihyun slips through the entryway and weaves down dark corridors and forgotten doors.

He is lost in a haze to get to you, has waited eagerly for weeks to spend time with you, and not the person you pretend to be for everyone else. He wants your silly laughter and teasing smiles, your fondness for flowers and furry forest creatures.

In an unlit corner of an unused passageway, there is a door that blends into the stone of the walls, it is not easily seen in the dark, but Jihyun knows exactly where it is and how to twist the lock to the room that has become his haven.

He steps through the low archway and closes the door behind him, feels a sort of relief when he turns to find you watching him.

It is indescribable, how painfully beautiful you are illuminated by the candlelight – woven in golden and waiting for him.

He bows, deeply. “Princess.”

And then, the respectable haze you have found yourselves in for weeks vanishes.

In an instant, you wrench yourself forward into him, tackling him into something fierce. He grasps you, cradling you safely in his arms as you wiggle in your happiness.

“Jihyun,” you whisper against his chest, nose buried in the hilt of his tailcoat. “I was afraid you would not come.”

He pushes you back, enough to look into your eyes and trace the outline of your cheekbone with his thumb. “Of course I came. I cannot deny you a single thing, nor do I wish to.”

“I did not think I would have the time to slip by their attention tonight, I am eternally grateful their minds are elsewhere.”

“Do you need to get back?” he asks, wrapping his arms around your waist; already dreading having to part.

“Not yet, not so soon.” You reach for him, stand on the tip of your toes and brush your lips against his in the softest of kisses. “I have missed you terribly.”

“As have I, darling,” he whispers against your mouth. “I have to stop myself constantly from reaching for you in the hallways.”

An impish smile graces your lips, sly and conniving. He imagines this must be how the fae tempt humans into their world.

“You are certainly free to touch me now, in whatever way you desire.”

He catches up quickly, as he tightens the hold on your waist and brings his lips to yours – warm breath and honey taste – soft and slow, memorizing every part of this moment.

He rubs small circles on your back just above your waist, feeling the silky material of your dress as you put your arms around his neck, bringing him in as close as you possibly can. And when you pull back to catch your breath, you smile at him slyly, all hooded eyes and flushed cheeks, bottom lip between your teeth.

“Pray tell, you wicked thing. What enchantment have you placed on me?”

A soft laugh, no more than an exhale, ghosts across the side of his neck, raising goosebumps across his skin. You stand so close he can smell the sweetness of the roses pressed onto your skin, the floral scent instantly hauling him back to an afternoon in the court gardens, where you hid behind large rose bushes and he pressed you against the grass and kissed you until sundown.

“It was the pomegranate seeds I fed to you in the garden” you whisper, playfully. “It was faerie food, meant to entrap you to my side for the rest of your days.”

“You could have simply asked me,” he replies. “My answer would have been yes.”

Your eyes go soft, but sparkle suddenly in the way they do when you decide to be cheeky. “But that would be a waste of a perfectly ripe pomegranate, do you not agree?”

He bites at the pout of your lip in reprimand, feeling satisfied with the redness there when he pulls back. “Do you truly have a response for everything?”

“I thought you liked my mouth,” you say, just a fraction shy and very much teasing as your hands wonder down his chest.

“I do, it’s perfectly sweet.” His hand firmly cradles your chin and he leans in until your breath is upon his lips. “Do not divert, my dove. Will you share with me what has been on your mind tonight? You have been on a cloud all evening.”

Your eyes open in surprise, but smile softly at him as he holds your face between his hands. His thumb traces your berry lips and your eyes flutter shut in resignation.

“I have tried, for a very long time, to find dignity in my role.” He notes the softness of your voice, mixed in with the bitter resentment he’s only caught glimpses of before. When your eyes flutter open, there is sadness. “I have found nothing, and I am tired of it all. I do not know who I am beyond what I’m told to be, and I do not care for it any longer. I wish to please only you.”

Your eyes are suddenly and incredibly soft as they hold onto his, your fingertips tracing his hipbones, moving up his abdomen. He brushes a gentle stroke of his lip against yours, flashing loving eyes as if to say what neither of you has found the courage to admit yet.

“You have shone light upon my dreams, Jihyun. But there is no room for you in my life, and you deserve to be with someone that will not be a threat to your own.”

He is hardly ever angry; he finds he does not care much for such emotions. But in this moment, he feels an inexplicable sadness and fear that you will disappear before he has the chance to tell you how truly his life belongs to you.

“Should you wish to end things with me, I will retreat immediately without a word and pretend nothing has happened. But do not make decisions for me. I wish to be with you, in whatever manner possible. If these meetings are all that I will ever have, then I will have this over nothing.”

Light laughter erupts from your throat and you quickly slip one hand from his chest to muffle the unexpected sound. Tears spring from your eyes at last, a blend of humor and grief.

“I wish I could kiss you and make you king.”

He gently takes hold of your soft hands, engulfing them in his calloused ones. He notices the pleasant shiver that runs up your spine at the intimate gesture.

“I do not want to be king, I just want to be with you,” he admits.

You are quiet for a long time, contemplative. He brushes tendrils of your hair off your shoulder, feels your collarbones beneath his fingertips.

“We are in love, aren’t we?” You whisper, and there’s a sort of hesitancy there, as if you have only just realized what this could mean for both of you – the inevitable heartbreak that is destined.

From the very moment your worlds collided – he knew he would fall in love with you. And as he has come to know you – eyes alive like wildflowers and smiles that carry sunshine – he dreams of nothing more than to meet his fate by your side.

“I love you, with everything that I possess.”

“Then run away with me,” you plead, putting yourself nose to nose with him, his blue wisps of hair against your forehead. “Let’s go to another land. Somewhere far away where we can be close to an ocean and have a garden of roses.”

“Your father will send kingsmen after us,” he warns quietly, stoic beneath your hands, hesitant to reciprocate. “He will not be merciful.”

You shake your head fiercely, speak one last offer of clarity. “My father cares not for what may happen to me, he never has. He has two more children he can crown.”

“If you are sure about this, I believe King Han may grant us sanctuary should we reach his borders. I have known him since we were children, and Jumin can be ruthless, but he is fair. Though I must warn you, once we reach his castle, your title will be stripped.”

“I do not want to be a princess, I just want you,” you whisper and lean into him, press a breeze of a kiss to the corner of his mouth, another against his jawline. “Promise you will meet me at midnight, out in the forest.”

The sweetness of you has long burned away his fear, and in its place a mellow kind of anticipation has taken hold. He takes your hand in his and brings it up to his lips.

“As you wish,” he mumbles against your palm and you giggle joyfully before you throw your arms around his neck.

And for everything he believes in, your face is as precious as all the jewels and gemstones of any kingdom; it is the smile you grace him with upon his yes, shining with the power of a thousand suns, that confirm he has found the world’s greatest fortune.

#I was so hesitant to post this #but fuck it #here it is #enjoy #jihyun kim #jihyun kim x reader #mystic messenger #v mysme #v route #v mysme fanfic #v mysme x reader #v mystic messenger #Jihyun Kim fanfic #Jihyun Kim mysme #Jihyun Kim mystic messenger #period/fantasy au #the mystic dance #mint palace ball

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Wound By a Key

I was given the opportunity to collaborate with the marvelous, amazing, talented, fantastic @spielzeugkaiser​ for this story/piece and it was SO MUCH FUN! Thank you for drawing something so amazing, thank you for sharing it with me, and thank you for this fun collab!

Based on “The Music Box Song” from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

---

The first thing Geralt noticed, as he led Roach down the main road of the little hamlet, was how oddly quiet everything was. There were a few people meandering in the marketplace speaking in low tones, but otherwise the midday streets were empty. It was unusual. Especially for springtime. 

He heard the small pocket of villagers speaking as he passed them, their curious and nervous gazes following his every step.

“Do you think that’s the White Wolf?”

“Look at his hair! Who else could it be?”

“Do you think he’ll be able to break the spell?”

He reached the door of the town’s only inn and tied Roach’s reins to the hitching post outside. He gave her an affectionate nuzzle and a few quick pats before ducking through the low wooden door, the villagers’ pointed conversation pushed to the back of his mind for now. 

He needed food and lodging, first.

“Afternoon,” the innkeep nodded. Geralt nodded back and took a seat at the bar. The rotund, middle-aged man turned to face him, not a glimmer of fear or apprehension tainted his welcoming expression. “What can I do for ya, traveler?”

“I’ll have a tankard of ale, please; and stew if you have it. I also need a room for the night and a stable for my horse.”

“Two full pieces of silver will get you all of that and a bath to boot,” the man offered. Geralt gave a small, grateful smile and pulled two silvers and a copper from his purse, setting them on the counter directly in front of the beaming innkeep.

“As a thank you for your unexpected but welcome kindness.”

“Appreciated, sir.”

“Hmm.”

Geralt was just bringing the first spoonful of venison stew towards his mouth when his gaze caught on something behind the bar. His eyes narrowed and he looked down at the food suspiciously. Perhaps the man had been a little too kind to a Witcher. Maybe the kindness in his eyes really was just a well-practiced act, after all.

“Where’d you get that lute?” Geralt asked. He’d almost asked - Where’d you get Jaskier’s lute? - but that would have revealed too much.

“Oh, right. I had nearly forgotten about the lute,” the man frowned and shook his head. The Witcher caught a whiff of relief and sadness drifting off the stranger and grew even more confused. “That’s a tragic tale, really. Not good for a traveler’s appetite.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m a Witcher. I’ve seen and heard a few unpleasant things in my life.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” the innkeep chuckled. “But that’s just because I’m not a very observant person. If you’re a Witcher you might just be able to help the lad out. Would you care to hear the bard’s tale and see if it’s something your Witcher magic could fix?”

Geralt nodded and took a bite of stew, convinced that the man wasn’t actually trying to rob or kill him (or both). “Go ahead, then. Who is this bard and what horrible fate befell him?”

“A few weeks ago, just after the second thaw, children from the village started going missing at night. They’d come back at midday, their faces pale and their limbs heavy like lead weights. They would sleep for days before they could get out of bed again, and they were incredibly weak. When that bard wandered through on his way to find his friend, he heard of our blight and followed a child into the woods one evening, determined to solve the mystery and stop the madness.”

“Hmm.”

“Turns out it was the Fae -” Geralt’s head snapped up. “- And they were making the children dance all through the night for their entertainment. The faeries would make them dance until the poor little dears were totally exhausted and only had enough strength to wander back home. The bard offered to dance and play for them for two full days in exchange for the childrens’ freedom… and they agreed.”

“Fuck.”

“You sound invested in the lad’s wellbeing,” the innkeep raised an eyebrow. “I can take you to see him, if you’d like.”

“He’s here?”

“Sort of,” the man rubbed his hand up and down the back of his neck and the scent of anxiety spiked through the air. Geralt shook it off, determined to finish his meal before attending to his foolish friend and companion. “The Fae weren’t exactly happy about his interloping, you see. They accepted his terms and let him play for the full two days, and the children have been safe ever since, but they didn’t return him the way he left. Apparently the faeries decided that it would be more fun to curse him a little bit and watch the aftermath play out.”

“What is a little bit, exactly?”

Geralt had never heard of just a little bit of cursing. There were either dire consequences or death on the other end of curses and neither one were fitting ends for Jaskier’s colorful, too-short life. 

“It would be best if you finished your food, Sir Witcher. If you’re as close to the bard as I think you are, it’ll spoil your dinner to see him like this.”

---

The alderman ushered his two impromptu visitors inside and closed the door quietly behind them. He gave Geralt a slow, calculating once over. “So I take it you’re a Witcher, eh?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve come to break the fae’s curse on this bard?”

“Depends on the curse.”

“Apparently he knows the lad,” the innkeeper added helpfully. Geralt glowered and pulled his hood back away from his face. 

“I haven’t actually seen him yet, but it’s very likely that this bard and I are acquaintances.”

“Right this way, then. I’ve kept him out of the children’s hands. I didn’t know if the singing and dancing routine would still make him tired or not and I wanted to be safe; for all the help he did to rescue them from those dastardly faeries, the villagers certainly seem to enjoy turning the key and making him perform.”

Geralt grew more and more worried with every word that passed through the alderman’s lips. Singing and dancing routine? Turning the key? Making him perform? What had the faeries done to his stupidly caring friend in return for his bravery? What kind of curse had they placed on the silly, fun-loving human?

The three men crossed through the manor’s sitting room and dining room and into a clean, empty storage room that ran against the very back of the building. Positioned in the center of the floor was an enormous, intricate music box. The figure standing up from the top was facing away from them, so Geralt took a moment to inspect the stand itself. 

The square box was carved around the bottom edges with buttercup blossoms and had paintings across all four sides, depicting the childish, storybook version of Jaskier approaching the Fae in the woods, his two nights of dancing and singing, his transformation, and, as they came around to the front panel at last, his imprisonment. The doll on top of the stand was Jaskier; or it had been, once upon a time.  

The bard looked only slightly different in his current accursed form, but it was enough to unnerve the usually stoic Witcher. The blue of Jaskier’s eyes was misty and glazed over. Glass, Geralt realized. He suppressed a horrified shudder at the thought. His eyes look like they’re made of glass. His skin was pale and when Geralt reached out to caress his arm (bent stiffly at the elbow much like a jointed doll’s would be) it felt waxy and too-smooth. Inhuman. 

Jaskier’s body was bent slightly forward at the waist, both arms resting oddly at his sides with the elbows bent at ninety degrees. Two circles of rouge brightened his cheeks and his eyes had been lightly lined to make them seem wider and more doll-like. A wreath of colorful flowers had been pinned into his hair and the blue silk doublet Geralt had last seen the bard wearing was nowhere to be found. 

The Fae had clearly taken their time with dressing and decorating him. His waist was cinched into a colorful corset-style vest that tied up the front with little blue silk bows and his legs were outfitted in tight-fitting, navy blue breeches that buckled just below the knee. His hose was off-white and complimented the shapely curve of his calves and ankles. He was wearing the buckled, heeled shoes of a nobleman and they shone with polish. There was nothing holding Jaskier up, which meant that the curse itself was keeping him upright and in place. 

The Witcher turned to glare at the alderman, his emotions finally boiling over at the sight of his bard’s transformation. “Did the Fae tell anyone how to break the curse?”

“We think the answer is in the song.”

“The song?”

“When you wind the lad up he sings a little song. He’s standing on a music box, after all.”

“Hmm.”

The alderman approached the side of the box and wound the large key jutting out, twisting until he was red faced and the bronze-painted peg would turn no more. He released the key and stepped back to join Geralt and the innkeeper where they stood with their backs against the far wall.

A few soft, tinkling metallic notes played through the room before the doll came to life. Jaskier’s back straightened and his arms reached out towards his audience in jerky little movements. Every time one of his joints extended or shifted there was a loud wrenching sound as the inner workings of the music box manipulated his limbs in time to the melody. 

Jaskier’s bright, lilting tenor flowed forth as he danced mechanically atop his pedestal. He turned in a slow circle, his arms reaching up and around as if seeking an embrace as he sang: 

“What do you see,

You people gazing at me?

You see a doll on a music box

That's wound by a key.

“How can you tell

I'm under a spell?

I'm waiting for love's first kiss!”

Geralt blushed as the doll-Jaskier reached directly out towards the space where the Witcher happened to be standing, almost as if he was reaching out for the true love he sought to break his spell. Geralt’s eyes met briefly with the wax figurine’s and he felt his heart skip a beat. Jaskier is so close and yet he still doesn’t see me. The Witcher gave a heavy sigh and shook his head as the bard continued his automatonlike performance. 

“You cannot see...

How much I long to be free,

Turning around on this music box

That's wound by a key!

“Yearning, yearning

While I'm turning around and around…”

The tune faded away into nothing again and Jaskier fell silent. His torso drooped forward. His hair fell into his eyes and Geralt reached out to move it away without thinking, letting his fingers brush the bard’s painted cheek as he pulled back. “So do you know anyone who could possibly free him? He only has a few days left.”

“What?!” Geralt snapped. He spun to face the innkeep with a thunderous look on his face. “What do you mean!?”

“The curse has to be broken before the end of the month or he’ll be stuck like this forever.”

“Fuck. Why didn’t you tell me that first?” the Witcher snarled. He gazed hopelessly at his friend and clenched his fists at his sides. 

It was so much easier to kill monsters. It was so much easier to break curses when they were placed on princesses or nobles or foolish peasants who had meddled where they shouldn’t. But Jaskier had been doing a good deed without being prompted and he had done it all alone without Geralt there for backup or protection. The stupid bard had rescued an entire village’s children by offering himself to the fae and now… now…

Geralt sighed and shook his head. He needed to think. He needed to breathe.

“I’m going to contact some friends and see what we can do,” he finally said. “But first I need rest. May I return to my room at the inn?”

“Aye. Good luck, Witcher.”

“Hmm.”

---

Geralt tossed and turned, unable to sleep. 

Two glassy blue eyes kept following his every move, searching for him in the dark. 

He knew he had to rescue Jaskier, the only problem was finding someone who loved him enough to break the curse. The Witcher rolled onto his back and glared at the ceiling. Dawn was only a few hours away and he’d failed to get any sleep or meditate deeply enough to rest. He kept hearing those words, high and breathy, echoing through his head over and over:

“You cannot see...

How much I long to be free,

Turning around on this music box

That's wound by a key!”

The thought of anyone else kissing Jaskier sent a tight, angry buzzing sensation flickering beneath his skin. He bristled. He frowned. He… He was jealous. The moment Geralt tried to picture Essi Daven or Priscilla or that one foolish Count with ashy-blonde hair and broad shoulders he’d caught the bard with late one night even coming close to kissing Jaskier, the Witcher felt the urge to growl and bare his teeth. He wanted to curl around the music box and snarl at anyone who came too close for his liking. He wanted to wrap Jaskier in his arms and keep him there forever, where he could hear the bard’s heartbeat and feel his warmth.

An unnerving thought.

He’d always been a very possessive lover. 

Fuck.

But what if he tried to kiss the bard and the spell didn’t break? Then he might lose Jaskier regardless of whether or not he woke up. If Jaskier’s curse dissipated at the hands of another and he knew that Geralt had kissed him, had acknowledged his love for the bard and faced it head on and failed, then the Witcher might break down forever. Without Jaskier, what reason was there to return to the inn or the campfire at night? Of course there was Roach, but once she died he didn’t have to seek out another…

He could just disappear like many of his Witcher brethren often did. 

Geralt groaned and rose to his feet, slipping on his boots and cloak as quietly as possible. He crept through the sleepy town under the blanket of night and snapped the lock off the alderman’s back window. He gripped the lower sill and took a deep, steadying breath before heaving it open.

He had to try, at least.

He had to know.

The Witcher climbed silently into the storage room and walked in a slow circle around the music box. Jaskier was standing perfectly still, the painted smile on his face and the silk flowers in his hair looking as brilliant as ever, even in the darkness. Geralt stood in front of his cursed friend and sighed quietly. 

“I wish you didn’t have to find out just how much I care about you like this, Jaskier. I wish I could have told you about my rather prominent and passionate feelings before any of this nonsense had happened. If I fail you now, if you don’t wake up because this love is one-sided, I’m sorry. I want you to know that I’m so incredibly sorry for not being able to love you enough to save your life.”

With his soul bared and his confession carefully whispered into wooden ears, Geralt reached up and placed his palm against the bard’s waxy cheek. He had to stand on tiptoe in order to reach Jaskier’s mouth with his own and the position made him feel strangely vulnerable. He tried not to think about it as he closed his eyes and pressed his lips against the smooth, painted wooden mouth of the music box doll that had once been his most faithful friend.

He pulled away after a lingering moment of contact, shaking his white hair out of his eyes. A few terrifying seconds ticked past and nothing happened. The Witcher was about to cry out in frustration and disappear out the window again when he heard a shallow breath being drawn. His worried amber gaze snapped up and met, for the first time in far too long, a pair of bright blue irises that flashed with recognition and confusion. 

Geralt held out his arms and caught the bard just as he went limp, his body exhausted from being held upright for so many days on end. He felt like a pile of crumpled laundry in the Witcher’s arms, all deadweight and no control over his limbs at all. “Are you alright, Jaskier?”

“Hnn.”

He was still waking up from the spell and likely had no memory of what had happened. Geralt bit back the pang of bitter disappointment that threatened to echo through his heart; he had no real claim over Jaskier and it wasn’t fair to make one now. Not if the bard didn’t remember his declaration.

“Let’s… Let’s get you back to the inn and get you taken care of, Jaskier. I can tell the others about the broken curse in the morning.”

“Do you mean it?” Jaskier rasped. His head lolled against Geralt’s shoulder and he glanced up with tired but frightened eyes, “Do you really love me?”

“Hmm. Yes.”

“Good,” the bard managed to shift closer despite his full-body exhaustion. “I love you, too.”

“No more running off and trying to save people by yourself.”

“Well you aren’t always around to help, Geralt, what am I supposed to do?”

“I’ll be around from now on,” the Witcher asserted. He pressed another quick kiss to the bard’s lips and watched as Jaskier blushed and stuttered in his firm bridal carry. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

---

“Geralt please stop humming that song.”

“I can’t help it! It’s so catchy, it just keeps getting stuck in my head. Will you sing it for me? Maybe that will help.”

“Fine,” the bard muttered, settling down next to the fire with his lute. “Just once.”

“Thank you.”

Geralt sank into his meditative kneel and closed his eyes. A smile played at the corner of his lips and Jaskier pretended not to see it.

“What do you see,

You people gazing at me?

You see a doll on a music box

That’s wound by a key.”

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geraskier collab #THIS ART MADE ME CRY #geraskier chitty chitty bang bang au #music box jaskier #cursed jaskier #doll jaskier #witcher geralt #geralt to the rescue #jaskier whump #fae curse #true love's kiss #geraskier getting together #art and fic #geraskier fluff #kissing #first kiss #geraskier soft #soft geralt #love confessions #chitty chitty bang bang au #bouncey's endless au collection

[cades-outsider]

Eli/Hawk X Reader

Warnings: This may get you in your feels for a sec! Very slight smut warning!

Fighting Gravity

You would be lying if you said it wasn't tough, it was the hardest thing you have done. It's not easy breaking up with someone but you felt as if you had no other choice.

You were with Eli before he turned into Hawk, before he started becoming someone who he despised the most, he became his worst enemy; a bully.

Just as if the day could get any worse you had to be at school, well it was lunch time so it wasn't so bad. I mean you were already halfway through school just two more classes, that you also share with Demetri.

"Listen to me Y/n" Demetri says catching your attention.

You playfully roll your eyes as you know that he's going to tell you a cheesy Star Wars joke, that will most likely be funny to only you and Demetri and we'll Eli if he were a 'nerd' again as he calls it.

"Which Star Wars character works at a restaurant?" He questions, already laughing at the joke he was thinking of.

"I don't know who?" You ask sarcastically.

"Darth Waiter" Demetri says, now fully laughing at his own joke.

He laughs at his own joke caused to you to laugh, plus it was a cheesy move. The laughing dies down as you and Demetri stop, in the middle of the hallway. Eyes subconsciously connecting with each other's, you both feel yourselves being pulled towards one another.

"What the h*ll do you think you're doing nerd?!" You hear someone yell causing both you and Demetri to pull away, have being caught.

"I-uh well-" Demetri stutters before you speak up, Demetri sighs in relief.

"Why do you care? We aren't together anymore" You exclaim, as Hawk walks closer to you both.

"Yeah I wonder why, it's not like I wanted you anyways" He smirks.

You knew what was happening, you knew that he was just putting on a facade to the students that don't give a crap about him.

"Oh yeah? And how's that working out for you" You smirk.

"Quite well actually, I don't have to see your ugly reflection everyday" Hawk snarls.

"Yeah well neither do I" You scoff, almost saying something bad but you bite back your lip. Knowing that's Eli's insecure spot, that you shouldn't bring up.

  You bite back the urge to say something you'd regret in the long run "whatever I'm not even in the mood" you roll your eyes and walk away.

"Come on Demetri" You demand as he follows behind.

  "Uh- what was that?" He asks referring to the almost kiss.

  "I- I don't know" You admit honestly.

  He decides to not ask any more questions even though it kept running around his mind. After lunch, the day went by pretty fast you were driving on the way home when you got a call. It was Demetri.

Both Demetri and Moon decided to get your mind off of things, so she threw you a as she called it a 'get over hawk' party. Which was what Demetri called to tell you about of course.

"Come on Y/n! This will help you in-lighten your inner spiritual self!" Moon says jumping up and down, clapping excitedly.

"Fine fine fine...." you mumble, knowing you couldn't say no to Moon.

"Yay!" She exclaims happily.

"Come on I have the perfect dress for you!" She says pulling you into her closet full of dresses and unique outfits.

"Here! Take this!" Moon pushes the dress into your chest, excited.

  You don't even get time to check out the dress before Moon rushes you into her second closet, "rude..." you mumble playfully.

  You slip on the dress, with no problems at all. It fit ever curve just perfectly. "Wow.." you gape as you spin around looking at yourself in the mirror.

  The dress included a slit in the middle from your thigh and it was a sparkling blue shade, with spaghetti straps.

  Not even a second later Moon barges into the closet causing you to jump, she squeals cheerfully "o-m-g you look so sexy!" She says smirking, proud of herself.

"Wait, why am I wearing a dress when I'm just going to swim anyways?" You question.

"Oh you silly Y/n! We're showing Hawk what he's missing!" Moon says smiling as she grabs some of her green juice that she made.

"Okay.." You nod your head, trailing off.

"Plus I bought me a matching colored dress!" She says holding up the dress.

You gasp "it's beautiful Moon! You'll look gorgeous! As always" You gush.

Moon smiles slightly at the compliment "well what are you waiting for! Let me do your hair" She says ushering you in the chair.

After a couple hours Moon had finished your makeup and hair turning you around to see your beautiful reflection in the mirror.

"Wow.." you gape at the magic Moon had put into.

  "I know right!" Moon agrees.

  "Oo- I'm going to slip on my dress!" She exclaims happily as she rushes into her bathroom.

  An hour went by and people were finally here, kids eating pizza in the corner, some drinking beer, and some already throwing up in the lawn.... 'pfttt lightweights' you giggle to yourself.

  In the middle of your direction you seen Hawk and a group of his friends sitting around him, a red solo cup in his hands as his fierce eyes scan over the partying people. Only to be met with your beautiful shinning eyes.

  His demeanor changes almost immediately, he was tired of putting up this act yeah. But he did not want to go back to the kid with the weird lip, so throwing this act away was a no at least for now.

  His eyes sparkle with admiration as he scans your beautiful features, and your sparkling blue dress. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander to the slit in your dress which revealed your right thigh.

  Just then Demetri walks over to you with a wave "hey Y/n, would you like to I don't know per say go for a swim?" He asks, beating around the bush.

  Sparing a side glance at Hawk you notice his jaw clench as he squeezes his red solo cup causing whatever liquor that was held inside to drip down his hands and onto the floor.

  Deciding what harm could do you nod "I'd love too" you reply as he leads you both to the pool outside, few people in the pool which confused you considering it seems like people always head for the pool first at party's.

  Unzipping the side of your dress you reveal your white bikini that Moon had bought for you three days prior as a best friend-adversary gift along with a matching gold necklace.

  You of course returned the gesture as this was your best friend were talking about, you fold the dress and put it under your towel so it wouldn't get wet.

  Demetri had already started getting in the pool, sitting down as you got in slowly enjoying the cold water against your warm skin.

  "You know Y/n, you look not the term I would use... but you look mighty fine" Demetri compliments causing you to giggle but roll your eyes playfully.

  That is until you hear a cup hit the concrete ground next to you, "you just can't stay away from what's mine can you Demetri" Hawk interrupts.

  You look up at him in shock, obviously it was just a compliment so why is he getting all worked up. I mean when people compliment Hawk you certainly try to start anything with them.

  "Hawk, cool it" You say softly, not wanting to come off as rude.

  "Oh so I'm supposed to 'cool it' while I watch Demetri flirt with you? H*ll no." He states bluntly as he starts walking closer to Demetri.

  Deciding you didn't want to see one of your friends get beat today, you pull yourself out of the pool. Gently you grab hawk by his forearm, grab your towel and push him into the pool shed full of floats.

  Roughly you slam his back against the wall causing a couple floats to fall off the wall "we need to talk" You state.

  Hawk's breathing picks up at how close you both are, "no talking" he says sliding his hands onto your cheek, rubbing his thumb in circles against your skin.

  "Just kissing..." He mumbles before placing his lips upon yours, pulling your body closer into his causing him to get wet since you just got out of the pool.

  You pull away leaving Eli with a hurt look as you push onto his chest pressing him against the wall firmer "we talk and sort things out then I give you what you want." You state firmly.

  Slowly Hawk nods, giving you puppy eyes "Look Eli, I love you I really do. But I don't like watching you become someone who you used to hate, I don't want you to inflict pain mentally... and physically like others did to you" You exclaim softly, rubbing his cheek soothingly.

  His jaw clenches before he soon relaxes "i understand Y/n, and I'm sorry I just didn't want to be the weird kid with the lip anymore..." He mumbles, slowly tearing up.

  "Eli... baby, you were never the kid with the weird lip. I love you for you, not strength, muscles, or popularity but you. I loved your corny jokes-" You rest your arms around his neck "-I loved your shyness, I loved your battle scar baby... it's what makes you my Eli" You finish as a small tear falls down Eli's eye.

  "Don't get me wrong, I love your confidence now and I love your hair but I didn't want you to get to wrapped up in it" You mumble softly.

  "I'm sorry Y/n, I really am" Eli mumbles, digging his head into your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist.

  "Don't be Eli, baby I understand what happened and I know why it happened but just know I always loved and always will love the real you" You say smiling as you lift his head up with your thumb.

  You run your finger over the scar on his lip before placing a gentle, loving kiss upon the scar "this is beautiful Eli, don't be afraid to love who you are" You praise as Eli feels his heart warm up with love.

  Eli reaches down and picks you up by your thighs before placing you on the little couch that laid in the room, he places his smooth lips on top of yours letting you feel his vulnerable state.

  He tugs in the middle of your bikini asking for permission if he cold take it off but before you could respond someone busts into the shed causing you both to jump.

  It was some horny couple making out and slamming each other against the walls removing clothing not even paying attention or noticing you two.

  "Seriously?! Get out!" Eli yells, startling the couple causing them to rush out half naked.

  You giggle as you rest on your elbows, sitting yourself up a little as Eli sits on his knees halfway straddling your thighs.

  "You think this is funny huh?" He teases has he bends down leaving kisses on your neck.

  "Yeah, I love the rush of being caught" You exclaim, catching Eli off guard.

  "Oh really? We'll see about that"

_______________________________________________

Thank you @peachymelon69 for requesting! I hope you enjoyed!

#robby keene #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai #cobra kai x reader #eli moskowitz x reader #x reader #wattpad #hawk #jacob bertrand #netflix #hawk x reader #Eli hawk moskowitz #slight warning #warning #binge read #binge #daniel larusso #samlarusso #miguel diaz imagine

[joestarwhore]

I’m Horrible at requesting things but can we get a yandere jotaro with a s/o whos the sweetest thing in the world? Like jotaro just wants to protect the bby. By protecting he means locking them in a basement with no sunlight or human connections that isint from him 😬 thx a bunch!

mwah, ofc!

IF YOURE NOT 18+ GO AWAY TYSM

————————————

Yandere!Jotaro Kujo Headcanon & Imagine

You met Jotaro around the same time Koichi did. You were a senior in school, your credits completed and your classes short, so you always had a lot of free time through the day.

You’ve had your Stand, Iron Maiden, since birth. Unlike other stand users though, you didn’t use yours very often. You simply loved to love people, your kindness making you a shining light to everyone around you.

& After everything that unfolds, Jotaro’s presence all of a sudden became more and more persistent. Jotaro would sit by you everywhere, asking you little questions about things you liked, flowers would show up on your nightstand at home, surprise little dates to the beach with him at night; Jotaro was treating you better than any man ever did before.

So when he suggested that you move away to his estate to live with him, there clearly was one answer; after all, your house was completely empty after you had came home, all of it packed on a trailer being worked on by Josuke and Okuyasu. Jotaro kissed your cheek, reassuring you this is exactly what you’re meant to do, his hands caressing your cheeks. After his sweet honeyed words, his gentle touches, you let him put you in the front seat.

——————————————

{Requited Love, Requited Insanity}

You sat on your king size bed that you shared with Jotaro, petting your cat Jam Jam who gently slept in your lap. The estate was absolutely giant, even though you & Jotaro lived in the penthouse below the surface. No windows, no light, simply electricity & Jotaro. That’s all you had.

Honestly, you were loving it! The estate was absolutely beautiful, Jotaro had a full library stocked for you to read from, all your records in a safe place for you, Jotaro paid for Jam Jams vet appointments and arranged for her to be expedited to you, giving you your small little companion back.

The only thing you missed were the people. Koichi, Josuke, Okuyasu, all of your pals, you haven’t seen them since the day you left Morioh. But that’s okay! Jotaro always takes good care of you, between making sure you have what you need & feel at home, he even put in an alarm system to make sure that the only one who can open doors is him, all because he doesn’t want you to slam your finger in one of the doors!! How sweet is he??

You heard the main door open above, footsteps coming down the stairs to the penthouse. Jotaros footsteps weren’t easy to miss, & certainly didn’t stop after he came through the door. His eyes softened as he saw you, throwing his hat on the shelf and his briefcase on the table. He raised up his arms as you ran into his chest, squeezing him with all the might you could muster. “Welcome home, honey!”

Jotaro smiled and kissed your forehead, “Thank you baby, I missed you a lot today. Did you have a good day with Jam Jam?”

You smiled brightly, “Yes I did, we watched a nature documentary while we napped together!”

“That’s good baby, I’m glad you’re getting sleep like a good girl.”

You followed Jotaro down to the kitchen, seeing two bags of takeout on the counter. “I figured since I have the next few days off, we could give you a break with cooking for a few nights. You’ve done really good cooking dinner for us, you deserve a break.”

You looked up at Jotaro smiling ear to ear, your heart swelled with admiration of how thoughtful he was. “Thank you so much Jotaro, that’s so so sweet!”

Jotaro helped you make your plate & got you both situated on the couch. You both talked about his day and yours as you ate, taking time out to pet jam jam as she walked by every now & then.

After about an hour of watching Jotaros pick of his favorite documentary, you spoke in a small voice up towards him;

“Jojo, how long have we been living here?”

Jotaro kept silent for a moment, careful not to say anything rash. Your delicate mental state & soft heart have been molded to his perfect little darling, & he couldn’t ruin that.

“Around 6 months, I’d say.”

You sat Jam Jam on the floor, angling yourself to look towards Jotaro, whos eyes were trained on you & looking at you with adoration. He knew if he was to keep you in his grasp, he had to answer all of your questions, and had to do it right.

“Why can’t I go outside?”

“The outside is dangerous, sweetie. There are a lot of bad men out there who don’t like me, and because I love you so much, they don’t like you either.”

Your face saddened at the thought of someone not liking you. You’ve never even hurt anyone, even when you had the chance to kill, you always chose the nicer way to do things. “Okay. I’m sorry for asking you so many questions, sometimes I don’t know how to explain certain things to myself.”

Jotaro sat you up & helped you stand up, “that’s perfectly okay, angel. As long as you are here with me, you are safe. I promise that.” You nodded as you grinned up at him, clearly satisfied with his reply and his praise.

Jotaro grinned down at you, kissing the back of your head as he steered you back to the bed, looming over you as he pushed you onto your back. “I had the aquarium to myself today. ‘Was thinking how nice it would’ve been if you were there.” His lips grazed over your ear shell, making your thighs clench together as adrenaline shot to your core.

“W-whys that?”

Jotaro chuckled darkly as he snaked his arm around your backside, holding the back of your head in his hand while his other one gripped your thigh, slowly making its way to your heat. “Because all I wanted to do was bend that perfect cunt over my desk and fill you til you were swollen.”

Your cheeks flamed red as you bit your lip in excitement. Jotaros thumb skimming over your tucked in bottom lip, attaching his to the side of your neck. You couldn’t keep in the moan that escaped you, between the pressure on your neck that would surely leave a hickey & Jotaros palm rubbing circles on your core.

“Perfect little whore for me, arent you?”

Silence. SLAP.

You yelped as his hand made contact with your ass, arching yourself into both of his hands. “Answer my question, you stupid fucking slut.”, he growled in your ear.

You moaned and hid your face in his muscular neck, his black hair tickling your eyes as you took in a shaky breath. “Yes sir, I’m your perfect little whore!”

Jotaro smirked down at you as he forced your legs open, gripping the flesh of your thighs in his fingers. “Y’know Josuke used to tell me how badly he wanted to bend you over. Him & Okuyasu both.” He unzipped his pants, pulling down and exposing his rock hard cock. Your breath hitched at the sight, excitement swelling in your stomach.

Jotaro lined himself up at your entrance, his thumb gently rubbing over your sensitive clit. “They don’t know how many times they’ve almost had every bone in their bodies broken.” He thrusted his cock all the way inside you, your moans filling your bedroom as you gripped the sheets to cope with the intensity.

“Mmh good girl, yeah just like that, take every inch of me like a good fuckin whore.”

Your moans became screams and begs for him to slow down and to stop as he tunneled into your cunt, not giving you any mercy. “Yeah good fuckin slut, good girl taking my dick- f-fucking christ you’re gonna look so good covered in my cum.”

Your stomach tightened as you gripped onto Jotaros arms, your cries asking him to please make you cum, please let you cum like a little whore, everything Jotaro wanted to hear out of his little darling.

“Mmmfph FUCK yeah good fuckin slut, cum all over my cock!”

His filthy mouth sent you over the edge as your intense release shook your entire body. Jotaro lazily pumped himself in & out of you, telling you sweet nothings in your ear as your overstimulated brain calmed down. Jotaro hilted himself inside you, finally cumming inside your sensitive womb. His large hands running over your glistening body help you up and into one of his T shirts, and laying you under the covers of your bed.

You were his. Only his. He had broke you and remade you so, so perfectly. He loved you so much it drove him into the most dangerous kind of madness; the requited one.

————————————————

THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING DARLINS!!🦋✨🌈🌸

#jojos bizzare adventure yandere #n/s/f/w jjba #vento aureo #yandere jjba #yandere jotaro #jotaro joestar #jotaro kujo

[skellebonez]

It's MY birthday and if as a gift from me to myself I get to go "hey @strange-lace and @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off you inspired this" then I GET TO DO THAT! You both know what you did with Spider Monkie AU. The fact that I was given VenomPeach by Lace and I am posting VenomPeach that I've been working on for a few days is just. Very amusing to me right now.

Spider Queen didn’t know if she was still an evil genius… or if she had just played herself like a 10 yuan kazoo.

What she did know was that she was on Mount Huaguao. In a forest. With Sun Wukong.

Who was very shirtless.

And pulling trees out of the ground with his sheer strength.

When she'd heard the odd noises that she now recognized as the creaking of tree roots being ripped up she was far too curious not to investigate. After all, this was Mount Huaguo. Whatever it was that was making that sound had to be something that Sun Wukong himself could handle.

She just hadn't expected it to be Sun Wukong making it.

Now she stood at the edge of what was clearly a carefully planned out clearing, an almost perfect circle with am opening to a rough but well loved dirt pathway that lead to the beach entrance that MK and his friends usually took to arrive.

"What’s all this?" She finally asked, stepping out from between the trees and slightly startling the Monkey King in the process. "It's not exactly time for spring cleaning."

"Queenie!" Wukong said, tossing the tree he was currently holding over his shoulder like it was as light as a twig. The motion made a shiver run down Spider Queen's spine, but she wasn't sure if that was because it was horrifying to revel in such sheer strength or just... incredible to behold (it was the later most certainly). "How are you feeling? Did your walk go alright?"

The question brought a smile to her face, the softness and earnestness in which he asked if making it equally soft on her lips. He was so... attentive to her. Not being overly intrusive in checking in on her or pushing her to take it easy with her healing burn scars or her weakened legs after everything that has happened, but also making sure to know if she ever needed anything whenever he could.

How she never realized how much care this immortal being was hiding behind all his bravado for all those centuries she may never know.

"It did, right up until I heard the strangest noise," she said, nodding her head down to the ground. "And it looks like I found my source. Again, what's all this?"

“UH, it’s for you?” Wukong said with a chuckle, gesturing to the field he’d made with his... arms. Very strong arms. All six of them.

Hence the lack of shirt. They don't really make those for people with six arms and any they made would just take far too long to put on.

Spider Queen could only look at him in confusion, one brow raised as she took in the flatter landscape before them.

“... thank you?” She attempted, sounding just as confused as she felt. “But I don’t know what I’d need an empty field for.”

“Well it isn’t exactly... you know, done yet,” the tall spider-monkey hybrid said with a laugh that was as bright as the sun shining off the metal on his outfit. “I built my house myself, actually. And it’s pretty small. Barely fits the two of us, really, with all the monkeys and I know you get lonely and I was thinking I could... build somewhere for your spider crew to actually stay?”

"What?" Spider Queen froze in her assessment of the field, head snapping back over and up at the other in surprise.

"The lab and stuff we have here already is great, but there's nowhere for them to stay and they just keep coming here every day and that takes a lot of time and fuel. And they can't stay at everyone else's places forever!" Wukong said with a laugh, somehow both light and bright and deep and hearty at the same time. "Well. Huntsman probably could stay at Sandy's forever, given the right incentive, but I know he misses spending as much time with you as he used to. Syntax is driving Pigsy and Tang up the wall with his experimenting, tough, and Goliath..."

The Monkey King paused himself, shrugging a bit.

"He really likes it here. And I'm pretty sure some of my court took a liking to him when he last visited. I can't say no to the guy, he's a sweetheart."

"Heh, I had trouble saying no to him too," Spider Queen admitted with a flush of her cheeks.

Truth be told... she missed her trio pretty bad some days. Ever since they'd lost their home in the lair, partly due to the Lady Bone Demon and partly due to bad memories that it brought up now, they'd been scattered a bit more than she would have liked. There was plenty of space on the island, but it wasn’t hers to give to them. It had been generous enough for Wukong to give her a place to stay and offer them free passage onto the island whenever they desired to see them, but he was right.

His house was far too small for the two of them and her trio.

Even if they now freed up some space by... sharing... sleeping quarters.

Spider Queen flushed a deeper color at that thought, still getting used to the fact that she and the man who had once been her greatest enemy now slept in the same room. On opposite sides of the same room but still.

She flushed deeper when she realized she had been staring at him and he was looking at her with an odd flush to his own cheeks.

"Well!" She cleared her throat, gesturing to the field as she stepped further into it to survey the Monkey King's hard work. "We should get planning then. Goliath is certain to want a little place to watch the nature outside, Huntsman will want someplace quiet and probably sound proof so he can sleep properly Syntax, and Syntax will want a smaller laboratory so he could take his work with him..."

Spider Queen trailed off, not noticing that as she started pacing that Wukong was watching her with a soft smile on his face.

That is, until she almost tripped on an upturned root and she found herself caught in all six of those arms she had been watching before she face planted into the ground.

"Maybe it's a bit too dangerous for pacing around as you think," he said as she was pulled against his chest. He was soft against her back, and despite the added hulk due to his transformation that softness was not all fur, voice rumbling through her as he held her protectively close. "Even if you look really cute when you do that..."

The last bit had been muttered so softly that she was certain that he hadn't realized she could hear him.

Before she could react she was airborne, carefully but skillfully tossed up on that she would land to sit on his shoulder with a hand held firmly around (around!) her waist to keep her safely seated.

"Besides, you can get a better vantage point from up here."

And indeed she could.

She could also hide the raging blush overtaking her face that almost made her stutter her words out as she went over the ideas she had for her family's new home.

Home...

She couldn't help but smile at the sound of that.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fanfic #venompeach #ship fic #sun wukong #monkey king #spider queen #IF I DIDN’T MAKE IT CLEAR WUKONG HAS A DAD BOD HERE #and its all knoxs fault #and laces #and kits #and mine #... i just really had to write this for no reason other than self indulgence

[poesparakeet-fics]

Read it here or on AO3!

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast, The Mighty Nein & Caleb Widogast Characters: Caleb Widogast, Essek Thelyss, Beauregard Lionett, Jester Lavorre, Caduceus Clay Additional Tags: Shadogast - Freeform, dunamancy, Empire Siblings - Freeform, Prank Wars, Tickling, rib tickling Summary:

What happens to a ticklish wizard when he manages to piss off too many of the people who love him? Allies are made and lessons are learned.

FIC

“Caleb Widogast!” Caleb jumped as he walked into the kitchen of the Xorhaus, unsure of what he could have possibly done to upset anyone this early in the morning. He was even more surprised when he saw who. “Essek?” Caleb stammered, taken aback. The drow was perched on a large kitchen chair with a cup of Caduceus’ tea in his hands and a pinched look on his face. “Schatze, I’m sorry, were we to meet? I hope you weren’t waiting long, I--” “No.” Essek corrected him sharply. “I am here to have tea with Mr. Clay at his request, to discuss the situation in Savalierwood. But he just told me that he healed some pretty distinct injuries for you, yesterday?” Caleb felt a guilty cringe fold his stomach in half. He sighed, looking at Caduceus. “So that just came up, ja?” “Yeah,” Caduceus responded, “thought it might be why you slept in.” “Ja, I had a bit of a fall--” “A fall? From where?” Essek’s gaze was intense. Caleb dropped his eyes to the floor. “Oh just, you know, clumsy--” “Really? You clumsily practiced dunamantic phasing on your own and fell through the floor?” “I think it was three floors, actually…” Caduceus mused quietly. The cringe came to the surface and showed, unbidden on Caleb’s face. “Essek, I--” “I have never limited you. It was the one thing I asked.” “I know, I--” “Caleb.” He froze when Essek cut him off, meeting the elf’s gaze once more. Essek stared him down hard before continuing. “I had… better masters than you had, when I was a young wizard. Infinitely gentler, certainly. But they would have whipped me for practicing phasing magic by myself. Truly. You could have cut yourself in half, dismembered yourself, crushed yourself, suffocated in a wall--” Essek seemed to cut himself off with a wave of his hand. “The point… the point is it would cause me a great heartbreak if irresponsible use of the magic I taught you led to your demise. Please promise me again, and keep it this time.” Caleb ducked his head, feeling like a rightfully scolded school child. “I will, ja. I am sorry.” Essek gave him a look that said he didn't entirely believe him. “I do trust you. I do not trust your curiosity. It’s only a virtue if it doesn’t get you killed.” Caleb laughed softly, nodding as he sat down at the table with them and accepted a teacup from the still-silent Caduceus. He winked at Essek. “I think I could say the same to you, but fair enough. If I do it again, I’ll let you whip me.” Essek smiled back, but the doubt didn’t leave his expression. ... “CALEB!” Beau’s voice thundered from upstairs, and Caduceus almost dropped the knife he was using to prepare vegetables for dinner. He spun around to see the wizard in question with his hands in his component pouch, running as fast as he could through the kitchen and out the back door. Beau’s quick steps followed, but by the time she was in the kitchen they could both hear the familiar woosh of a misty step from outside. She stopped stock-still in the kitchen, hands clenched into fists, looking… different than Caduceus had ever seen her. What was it? “Uh… hey. Did you get some new clothes.?” Beau turned to him silently, eyes burning holes in his head. It was pretty scary, actually. “Oh! Uh… is that what this is about?” Beau’s clothes were bright magenta where they had once been her usual cobalt blue. She was still staring at Caduceus with her fists clenched. Veth and Fjord were creeping wearily into the kitchen behind her. “I think it looks nice--!” Veth offered, only to choke off in a scared squeak when Beau rounded to face her. Beau reached out to yank Fjord’s hat off his head and put it on. “Hey!’ Fjord protested, before clamping one hand over his mouth to hide a smile. “Oh. I see.” As it perched on Beau’s head, the hat instantly turned the same bright magenta of her robes. When she handed it back it returned to its usual color. The whole room was biting lips to keep an amused smile off their face, lest they become the new target for her fury. Beau took a deep breath before bellowing again. “CALEB!” She spoke into the air, her voice loud enough to hear throughout the house. “I KNOW THAT SPELL DOESN’T GO FAR. I KNOW YOU’RE HERE, AND I AM GOING TO FUCKING GET YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME? I AM GOING TO DO DOPE MONK SHIT TO YOUR NERVOUS SYSTEM, TIE YOU UP AND FEED YOU TO A ROOM FULL OF TIEFLINGS. You will FUCKING SUFFER! THINK OF A NEW NAME, CAUSE CALEB WIDOGAST IS A FUCKING DEAD MAN! ” At the end of her tirade Beau took a deep breath and started to walk upstairs again, but not before spinning around and jabbing a finger at everyone in the kitchen. “ANYONE caught harboring the wizard will share his fucking fate!” … "...CALEB WIDOGAST IS A FUCKING DEAD MAN! ” Caleb was sitting cross-legged on the floor of his hiding place in Fjord’s empty bedroom when Beau finished her threats, but by the time she was climbing the stairs again he had disappeared with a crackling pop. When the disorienting suck of the teleport spell faded he was standing on a clay path in a dimly-lit garden next to a trio of small towers made of iridescent grey brick. An arcane weather-vane creaked in the darkness. He started toward the door. “Caleb?” A head of pale curls popped up over the top of a bush of dark purple flowers, a frown of concern on the face beneath. “Essek, hello. Ah… may I spend the night?” Essek walked toward him as he pulled floral gardening gloves off of his hands, eyes narrowed wearily. “Of course, I am always happy to have you...” He reached Caleb and placed a distracted kiss on his cheek. “... did something happen at home?” “Yes.” Caleb answered, only to stutter as Essek’s worry grew, “Oh, ah, nothing bad. Well, nothing very bad. I just need to avoid Beauregard for a bit.” Essek’s worry immediately evaporated to be replaced with amused annoyance. “I see. What did you do this time?” They both started to stroll through the garden toward Essek’s back door. “Oh, just some illusion work. It will go away by morning. She deserves it, after stealing my spellbook while I was sleeping.” “Mhmm.” Essek hummed, linking his arm with Caleb’s. “But wasn’t her stealing your spellbook revenge for…” “The magic spiders, ja, but I had to do that! She--” “--the disappearing ink, yes, I remember. Are you sensing a pattern here, chathtiu?” Caleb sniffed and turned his nose up. “I have no idea what you mean.” Essek’s smile turned indulgent as he pulled Caleb into his home. “I’m sure you don’t. Beauregard does have a way of pushing your buttons, hm?” “She is the expert.” “I should ask her for advice, one of these days.” Caleb only laughed, pulling the smaller man into his arms. “You have your own way of pushing my buttons, don’t you schatz?” Essek smiled back. “You’re right, of course. I do.” ... Caleb stalked through the library of the Xorhause, circling it room by room. While his books were sitting on the desk he’d been working at the night before, their holsters were missing. He shifted the papers on his desk, panic rising in his chest. Where were they? “Caleb?” Jester was standing in the doorway, his holsters dangling from one finger. Caleb let out a sigh of relief. “Jester! Danke! Where were they?” “Sorry, I think Sprinkle must have stolen them.” Caleb shook his head, the tension in his chest easing. “That’s alright. I’m just glad they are found.” He reached out for them, stopping short when another figure entered the room. It was Beau, her clothes now back to their normal deep blue. Their eyes met for a moment, but the monk just breezed past as though she didn’t even notice Caleb was there. It had been a week since the incident with her clothes with no revenge or further threats, and Caleb was starting to wonder if he’d finally won the war. He shrugged his holsters on as the two women sat down on the sofa. He missed Jester’s giggle until it was too late. “Hey Caleb?” Beau asked. “Uh, ja?” Caleb cringed a little, turning around. Beau’s look was positively predatory. “Fuck you.” Caleb was about to respond when the sensation of fingers digging into his ribs flushed all the air out of him in one squeal. He spun around clumsily, hands flapping, but nobody was near him. He craned his neck to look down, his arms helplessly hugging his own ribcage while his knees buckled. That’s when he realized where the sensation was coming from. “Wh-what? No, I-- ah! Please!” His fingers fumbled with the buckle of his holsters to try and escape the traitorous leather trap, but the buckle was trapped under a magical seal of iridescent purple wax with the image of a skeleton key pressed into its surface. “Fuck!” Beaureguard was grinning like a gnoll. “What’s that buddy? Fuck you?” “Aah!” Caleb’s whole body convulsed and hit the carpet as the tickling escalated, even more invisible fingers reaching out from the leather to stroke delicate bones under pale skin and plain cloth. “No no! Please!” “Can I try?” Jester asked, giggling. “Nein!” “Sure, go for it.” “Fuck yooooou Caleb!” Caleb couldn’t answer her with words, he could only wail wordlessly. He writhed on the ground, trying desperately to resist the currently useless instinct to lock his arms at his sides so he could try and pull the holsters off over his head, but it was no use. All he could do was paw uselessly at the leather before Beureguard hissed the trigger word again and all he could see was stars. “Uh… everything alright in here?” Fjord’s voice came from the direction of the door. Caleb couldn’t see him over the sofa. “Fjord!” Caleb screeched. “Plea-hee-se! Evil!” It was all he could get out before his voice cracked and his laughter turned silent, his head thrown back against the carpet. “Huh?” Beau answered in an exaggeratedly casual tone. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just getting a little payback for my pink phase. Stole his holsters and Essek cursed ‘em.” A wave of betrayal strong enough to overpower his ticklishness gave Caleb just enough breath to shout “WHAT?!” before the laughter overtook him again, tears building in his eyes. “I helped with the ruse!” Jester piped up. “Uh-huh.” Fjord nodded, “can he breathe?” “Hmm? Oh, I guess we can check. Good boy, Caleb.” The sensation stopped all at once, and Caleb rolled flat on his back to gulp in air. “See? He’s fine.” Caleb sat up, hands held out in supplication even as he struggled to catch his breath. “Beau, please, I’m s-” “Fuck you and your apology.” Any strength Caleb had recovered melted away as he squealed and flopped back down on the carpet, limbs curling uselessly against his body. The tickling fingers coming from the inner panels of his holsters might as well have been sucking his very life-force out. Fjord lets out a sigh. “If you’re going to torture him for a prank, you at least have to let him apologise. Good boy?” Caleb didn’t get up this time, too scared to trigger someone’s wrath or sense of mischief. He was still giggling, partially from phantom sensation and partially from the panicky tension of knowing that any of them could trigger the curse at any moment. “I’m sorry! Bitte!” There was a beat of silence before Beau turned to Fjord again. “There, I let him apologise. Can we go back to the torture now?” “Wait!” Caleb squeaked, rising unsteadily to his knees. “Please Beau, we can talk about this--” “Oh, you wanna talk now? Cause when it happened you were happy to teleport away to your fucking boyfriend’s. So… you know,” she finished with a grin, “fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOU.” “Nein!” Was all Caleb could manage before his laughter stole his voice away, only to crack and go silent once more a moment later. Tears leaked from his eyes to roll into the fluffy carpet beneath him as he crumpled. “Oh, he’s so cute when he cries, I love it!” Jester clapped her hands while she watched from the sofa. “This is the best curse ever.” Fjord made an agreeable sound. “I wonder if Essek could make something more remote? Then we could tickle him wherever we are. That would be fun.” Caleb couldn’t respond to the idea with anything more than pained wail through his hysterics. The others pretended not to notice. “Yeah, I do worry that he goes without when we’re gone.” Jester cooed. “Pfft. Yeah, I don’t think Essek is letting that happen.” Beau snorted. Caleb started to beat at the floor with one hand, hiccups punctuating his laughter. “Aw, alright. Good boy.” The sensation stopped again, but Caleb couldn’t stop his laughter. “Please, pleaheese, *hic* bitte--” “Focus on catching your breath.” Fjord suggested, “It’ll do you more good than begging will.” Caleb let out an exhausted little sob before obeying, his lungs working overtime to suck in air. He wiped the tears from his eyes and tried to make the hiccups go away with little success. When his breathing finally evened out Fjord gave him a reassuring smile. “See, that’s better.” Fjord soothed. Beau’s grin got wider. “Hey, Caleb?” “No!” “Fffffffffff…” “Mercy!” “...uuuuck you!” “Aaii!” Caleb let out a little yelp at the sound of the words, then… nothing. He’d clenched his eyes shut in anticipation, and when he slowly opened them Beau was glaring at him. “Hey! How come it didn’t work?” Caleb let out a huge sigh of relief. The curse must have expended all of its energy. “Is it done?” Jester questioned. Caleb was wondering the same thing. He tried to examine the buckle of his holsters as subtly as possible. The seal was still there, which meant whatever the curse was, it was not over. He needed to get out of earshot as quickly as he could. “I thought it was supposed to last longer than that. Can you message Essek?” “Sure!” Caleb started to cast for misty step as subtly as he could, hoping he was close enough to his lab to lock himself inside. “Hi Essek, it’s Jester! So, your awesome curse thingy is SO great, but like, but it ran out of tickles? Do you know why?” Whoosh. Caleb hit the stone floor of his lab with an oof, dragging himself to his feet and transmuting the door of the lab into stone for good measure. As he groaned he saw that the room looked quite different compared to how he had left it the night before. The large chalkboard he used for calculations had been moved into the centre of the room. In one corner someone had drawn a symbol-- a skeleton key, like the one on the seal trapping him in his holsters. Next to it someone had written in familiar, looping script: I will not practice phasing unsupervised. X100 Caleb whipped out the enchanted little book he and Essek used to send messages between them, only to find a new one waiting for him. You have 30 minutes. Caleb was glad nobody was there to watch him gape like a fish between the chalkboard and the book. Essek couldn’t be serious. He frowned and grabbed up a quill. You are a traitorous snake! There was only a single silent moment before the page shimmered and revealed another message under Caleb’s. Noted. Now you only have 25 minutes. Caleb took a moment to say every curse word in every language he knew. Then he stood up, snatched the chalk and started writing.

#caleb widogast #essek thelyss #Shadogast #Tickling #Tickle Fic #Critickle Role #beauregard lionett #Empire Siblings #Prank wars #Rib tickling #Ticklish Wizards #hot boi essek #TK fic

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 10 of 27: Dating

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHAPTER 9

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR AMAZING FEEDBACK! I AM BEYOND GRATEFUL FOR EVERYONE WHO READS THIS STORY! This project has become so important to me and I have so much fun working on it! Thank you thank you thank you! Also - this chapter is a little shorter and more ‘calm’ at first. But be prepared, it’s still very important to everything that follows it!! <33 Enjoy!

Words: 3.1k Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader Warnings: none

Two days after Hogsmeade …

Monday morning. You yawned and it turned into a chuckle when Malfoy mimicked you.

“It’s contagious,” he defended himself quietly to avoid attracting Professor Sprouts attention. He sat next to you, way back in the last row of the classroom. It had been your idea – after finding out that almost none of your friends believed your act, it seemed like a good idea to sit next to each other during classes. Maybe it would help convince them.

With a flick of her wand, Professor Sprout made an assignment appear on the blackboard. Nothing too difficult. You walked to the front to get the small flower you were supposed to work with and Ron glared at you from his seat. You ignored him.

Back at your table, Malfoy and you started working together quietly. When you looked at his notes, you leaned over a little too closely, feeling dizzy from the smell of his cologne. Whenever he reached for something, his hand brushed over yours. His comments were accompanied by smiles and direct eye contact. He played his part so well, you almost believed it. From the corners of your vision, you saw Ron staring.

You acted the same in every class that you shared. During breaks, you stayed together – always a few feet away from the others. You discovered how funny he could be when he gave you live-commentary of a fight happening between a Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

In the evening, you came back to your dorm, feeling unusually content. Not even the letter from the parents on your desk changed that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh, your mother had written. I simply don’t understand and I am scared for you. I can’t lose you too.

“Oh, mum,” you whispered, rubbing your neck. Then you sat down and reached for a quill. She deserved the truth. At least, a little of it.

 ***

One week after Hogsmeade …

Draco was happy.

Well, maybe happy was a little exaggerated but he felt … calmer. He used to spend his free time by himself which gave him plenty of opportunities to think. About the war, his parents, himself – and it nearly killed him. The notebook was an escape, a good way to focus, but it wasn’t enough. No matter how many pages he filled, he still felt himself sliding away from his surroundings. Now he spent that time with you – and things began to change. In those few days he even stopped dreading getting out of bed because Draco had finally something to look forward to again: spending time with you.

Draco considered you his friend. A part of him had trouble with the realization since being around someone like you went against everything his parents taught him but he tried tirelessly to shut it off. No, you were his friend and being around you made him feel almost okay.

“What are you writing?”

The sound of your voice caused Draco to look up from his notebook. The two of you sat in the library. You were across from him, finishing up on some homework. Draco shrugged. What was he supposed to say? I’m writing about you? Certainly not.

“Can I read it at some point?”, you tilted your head in curiosity. You did that a lot, Draco noticed. It reminded him of a puppy.

Am I comparing her to a dog?, he scolded himself in the next second. No, he didn’t mean it like that. He meant to think that he thought it was cute when you did that. You … were cute.

“It’s okay,” you finally said with a smile when you sensed his hesitation. “It’s personal, I get it – or do you keep track of dirty dreams in it?” You teased him.

“Only of the dreams involving you,” he winked at you, causing you to snort. Despite the joke, Draco was relieved you didn’t dig any further.

From where he sat, he had a direct view of the huge door leading inside the library. This was the reason why he saw the Greengrass sisters walking in, their gaze immediately landing upon him. He casually reached over the table and softly began to draw circles on your soft skin with the tip of his finger. He smirked at your shiver.

“Ron?”, you asked, not looking up from your book.

“Astoria,” he replied.

A few minutes later, Astoria and Daphne left again. Draco didn’t pull his hand away.

 ***

Two weeks after Hogsmeade …

Snowflakes were dancing in the cold winter air as you sat on the bleachers with Malfoy. Down on the Quidditch field, the Slytherins were practicing under the strong rule of Zabini. Games were cancelled but they still needed to stay in shape.

“I never pictured you as an Auror,” Malfoy confessed. He had asked about your future plans just seconds before.

“Why?”, you wanted to know.

He thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know. I always thought you’d become … a healer. Or a teacher maybe.”

His words made you laugh. “Are you serious?”

Malfoy nodded.

“Well, no,” you shrugged. “I wanted to be an Auror since I was little girl. And I’ll make it, believe me.”

He raised his hands in a defensive manner. “I have no doubts about that. It simply surprised me.”

You chuckled another time at the thought of becoming a teacher. It had always been the furthest thing on your mind. You loved Hogwarts, it had been your home for years but you craved to see more from the world. Especially since the war happened. You didn’t want to spend your whole life in this castle.

“What do you want to do?”, you then asked, curious as to what his answer might be. It was hard for you to picture him outside of school.

Malfoy shrugged. “I don’t know.”

It surprised you. “Really?”, you wondered. “Pureblood families like yours normally have a plan set up for their kids, don’t they?”

“Normally,” he laughed bitterly. “My father wanted me to follow his footsteps and get some high-ranking job in the Ministry. That’s not an option anymore. For obvious reasons.”

He was probably right. The wounds were still too fresh. The chances for a former Death Eater to be employed in the Ministry of Magic were slim.

You stayed on the bleachers for hours. It had only been a little over two weeks since the Halloween party and yet you had become a lot closer to Malfoy than you expected. You felt comfortable talking to him. Both of you had very different childhoods and friends – you came from different worlds. However, it was precisely this fact that made it easy to talk to each other. You were almost certain that he felt the same.

 ***

Three weeks after Hogsmeade …

Draco watched you flick through the pages of a magazine and for the first time since that night in the storage room, he saw you. And by Merlin, how beautiful you were.

He sat on the couch in the Room of Requirements with you, listening to the flames crackling in the small fireplace in front of him. You were laying down on your back, head propped up against the armrest, a small wrinkle on your forehead as you read the descriptions in the magazine. Your legs were stretched out and on his lap. Draco wondered why – no one would be around to see you anyways.

“Stop staring, Malfoy, it’s creepy,” you giggled.

Draco blinked as he snapped back into reality. “I’m not staring, I’m thinking, Y/L/N.”

“Think without staring at me.”

Easier said than done.

Draco cleared his throat. “What are you looking at anyways?”

“Christmas presents for my parents. But,” you clicked your tongue, “I can’t find anything good.”

Draco grabbed your legs and lifted them slightly while moving over closer to you. “Let me see. I’m awesome at getting gifts.”

 ***

Four weeks after Hogsmeade …

When December arrived, Hogwarts felt like home again. A cheerful atmosphere filled the castle, accompanied by snowball fights outside and hot chocolates in the common rooms. As if a spell was lifted, something changed within the students and parents alike.

You happily noticed how Ginny needed less and less of her sleeping medicine. The nightmares slowly faded, being replaced by happier memories. The letters from your mother barely mentioned your sister anymore. Instead, she talked about carriage rides in the snow with your father and her plans for Christmas dinner. For the first time in a while, you looked forward to going home.

You wondered if it was the same for Draco. When they put up the Christmas tree in the Great Hall, he got even more quiet than usual. It planted an idea inside your head and on that same day, you wrote a letter to your parents, asking them if he could spend the holidays with them. They agreed. It came to no surprise to you; your mother was eager to meet him and see if her prejudices and fears would be proven right.

“I don’t want to impose,” Draco said with a stern voice when you told him after dinner.

“You’re not! I asked them and they want to meet you. Come on,” you insisted.

He watched you with uncertainty and furrowed brows. “I don’t know. I can’t –”

“What are your plans for Christmas?”, you interrupted him.

Draco looked away at the question; that same expression of bitterness on his face that you’d seen too often for your own liking.

“I thought so,” you said softly. “Please, Draco, come with me.”

He sighed and wiped his hands over his eyes. “Why would they even want to meet me?”

You smiled widely. “You’re my boyfriend.” Never would you have thought it would sound normal to say that.

“Yes, but –”, he lowered his voice, “– but not really.”

True. For a weird reason, it stung a little to be reminded by him. “I am your friend though, aren’t I?”

He blinked at the word ‘friend’ and you wondered if he felt differently about it. Then he nodded.

“Awesome!”, you exclaimed, shooing away your worries. “Then it’s settled. Christmas at my place.”

In that moment, Harry and Ron walked passed you. Ron didn’t even glance at you. How weird, you wondered, this was the first time in days that you thought about him.

 ***

Five weeks after Hogsmeade …

 My dearest Draco,

I am delighted to hear that Y/N’s family invited you for Christmas. They are very kind to do so. Please remember to bring a little housewarming gift. Although it hurts me to be away from you this Christmas, I do believe it’s a better option for you than visiting your grandparents with me. I’m sure the holidays will be spent in a rather somber spirit this year as your father will be unable to join us. I want you to have at least a little fun and am looking forward to your stories.

Lots of love, your Mother

P.S.: I met with Mrs. Greengrass yesterday. She is not upset and gave me her word to wait until you are ready.

Draco shook his head in amusement when he finished reading the letter. Only his mother could wish him a nice time with his (fake) girlfriend and then continue with ‘if you’re done having fun, your fiancée is still available’.

“That’s why pureblood traditions are fucked up,” was something you would say right now. But you weren’t here. You were practicing for the first Quidditch game in the new year and Draco sat in his dorm, waiting for Blaise to get ready.

Reading the letter a second time, he started to wonder. Why would Mrs. Greengrass wait? Why did their family want this union so desperately? The questions were lingering on his mind ever since you brought them up months ago. He failed to come up with an answer to this day.

“Please don’t tell me that’s a letter to Y/N,” Blaise announced when he stepped out of the bathroom.

Draco rolled his eyes. “It’s from my mother, idiot.”

“Good,” his friend sighed dramatically. “Because I rarely get to see you now that you have her. No need for you to start writing love letters when she’s not around.”

Even though his nagging slightly annoyed Draco, he realized something in this moment: it had worked. The whole PDA and ‘being-more-affective-in-public’- thing worked. It had been almost two weeks since Theo or Blaise (or even Astoria) tried to get him to confess that they were faking it. His friends started to believe them.

“Yeah, whatever,” Draco gave a dismissive wave of his hand and put the letter away. “Maybe I just don’t want to see you, Zabini, and it has nothing to do with Y/N.”

Blaise laughed. “No, you love me too much. Now, let’s go. Theo’s waiting for us.”

 ***

Six weeks after Hogsmeade …

A loud shriek echoed through the classroom and you almost dropped the container of cat teeth on the floor. Parkinson jumped up and down, trying to get a slimy violet mass shaken off her leg. It didn’t budge and made its way up her pants, accompanied by absolutely disgusting slurping and smacking sounds. You tried hard to suppress a laugh but when you saw the way Harry grinned behind her, you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling.

Professor Slughorn hurried over and quickly cast a spell. The mass fell down to the floor and stopped moving. “Oh well, Ms. Parkinson,” he quickly glanced inside her cauldron. “It’s important to add the cat teeth before the mandrake juice.” Then he knelt down in front of her, inspecting her pants. “It looks like nothing got on your skin. If I am mistaken, please go and see Madame Pomfrey. It can leave nasty burns behind.”

The Slytherin girl nodded, still in shock.

“What happened?”, Draco joined you at your table. He had gone to the backroom, to gather missing ingredients.

“Parkinson got attacked by her potion,” you sneered while counting the cat teeth. “It was hilarious.”

“I bet,” he grinned, before skimming over the instructions again.

“I think I need to go and see Madame Pomfrey,” Parkinson whined behind you. “It got through the fabric of my pants.”

As if, you thought and rolled your eyes.

“Please go,” you heard Slughorn say. “Better not take any chances. Interestingly, this modified form of the potion has been used in the past. They removed foreign magical particles with it, such as certain marks that resulted from dark spells. It is very aggressive though and since then, the healers have invented different potions. However, when it touches your normal skin, it only leaves burns and scars. Please, Ms. Parkinson, please go. Mr. Nott, you can accompany her.”

“Huh,” Draco made next to you. “What did she do wrong again?”

You sighed when you saw that you had miscounted the teeth. Damnit.

“Y/N?”

“What?”, you looked at him.

Draco stared at the liquid inside the cauldron, a blank expression on his face. “What did Pansy do wrong?”

“She put in the mandrake juice before the cat teeth.” You frowned. “Why?”

“No reason.”

 ***

That same day …

It was late when you returned from Quidditch practice; tired and sweaty. All you craved was a shower and then your bed. Playing that sport in your free time was one thing but practicing under Ginny as Captain? You were glad that you didn’t die yet.

“Y/L/N!”

Someone shouted your name as you walked inside the castle.

“Y/L/N!”

Irritated, you turned around, trying to make out the person that voice belonged to.

“Y/L/N, here!” Theodore Nott sprinted down the stairs, coming from the direction of the Gryffindor common room. “Fuck, we looked everywhere for you!”, he cursed, completely out of breath, when he finally reached you.

“We?”, you asked with wide eyes. “What’s going on?”

You then noticed the fear in his eyes. He gripped so tightly onto the stair railings that his knuckles turned white and his whole body was trembling. Panic began to dwell up inside of you. Draco.

“It’s Draco, something happened,” he panted. “You have to come, please!”

Your blood froze. “What’s going on?!”, your voice turned shrill but he ran down the stairs again.

“Come!”, he shouted. “Now!”

The two of you sprinted down stairs and hallways, passing confused classmates on the way. Adrenaline pumped through your veins and you repeated the same sentence over and over again in your head: Something happened to Draco. The thought of it was unbearable and it hit you like a brick wall, making it hard to breathe. Please, no. Not him.

When you reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Theodore turned to you abruptly. He grabbed you by your shoulders. “Act normal,” he hissed. “Walk slowly. They don’t need to know.”

You nodded absently. Your hands were clam and you tried to calm down your breathing.

“Okay,” he didn’t seem convinced that you understood him. Then he mumbled the password and the door opened.

Under normal circumstances, you would have stopped in the middle of the room, looking around in awe. You’d never been here before; it was a mystery to you. But now, you only briefly glanced at the green and black furniture. There weren’t many students around. The ones that saw you, stared at your red Quidditch robes.

“What the fuck?”, someone said loudly. “What’s she doing here?!”

Nott ignored them, leading you quickly to the stairs that must have led up to the dorms. You noticed the windows on the way up and gasped when you realized that you didn’t look at the fields of Hogwarts. You were under the Black Lake.

“Finally,” Zabini exclaimed. He had waited in front of a door, looking just as shaken up as Nott. “You found her.”

“What’s going on?”, you asked for the third time now. “Where is he?”, your voice trembled a little.

“In here,” Nott pointed at the room. “In the bathroom. He locked himself in.”

“He wouldn’t let us in and asked for you,” Zabini continued with a quiet voice, fidgeting with his hands. “It’s … you’ll see. Just go in and help him.” He paused briefly. “Please.”

You nodded and reached for the door handle. Three deep breaths. One … two … three.

You pushed open the door and stepped in, closing it softly behind you. Looking around, everything looked perfectly ordinary. Three beds, three wardrobes, a table. Your gaze wandered over to the door that lead into the bathroom. Then you heard it – a sob. And another one. Someone was crying. He was crying. Your heart broke at the sound.

“Draco?”

 ***

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! <33 Also: did you notice Y/N stopped calling him “Malfoy” halfway through the chapter and switched to “Draco”? 

CHAPTER 11

“Choose Me Instead” Masterlist HP Masterlist

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#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x gryffindor #draco malfoy x gryffindor!reader #draco #malfoy #draco malfoy #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fanfiction #hogwarts #slytherin #slytherin imagines #slytherin fanfiction #gryffindor #gryffindor imagines #astrids fics

[utterlyinevitable]

pb let me *redact* Tobias challenge 🥲

not me turning your tobias thirst asks into a 3-part mini series 😂🙈

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC (Becca Lao) x Tobias Carrick Rating: Teen+ Summary: Ethan’s still pissed at Becca for her Tobias stint when he was in the Amazon. What happens when the narcissist joins the team? Trope: Angst; Broke Up; Ethan’s POV; Fighting; Jealousy

A/N: the toxin plot didn’t happen in this universe btw.

Part 1  |  Part 2

___________________________

Godly Sins: 3. Parting Wrath of Hera

That evening Tobias and Becca spoke late into the night about anything and everything. Well, everything that didn’t involve Ethan, June and hospital drama, nor their two brief wanton stints - truly getting to know one another and starting fresh.

As days and shifts and weekends rolled by, the sparkle they’ve shared began blooming into a friendship.

It was rather inevitable, really.

Two people who shared an indubitable attraction, forced to spend all their time together out of their boss’ sight - It was kismet.

Meanwhile, Ethan Ramsey had been ignoring them both for weeks outside of Diagnostic Team mandated functions - even then, interactions were brief and mediated by Harper. He’s been on edge since Tobias joined the team as Bloom’s nark, presumably. Or at least that’s what he told himself - convinced himself that nothing good could come from whatever this was.

Oh, how things go horribly, horribly sour.

Becca was sitting in the office waiting for the daily Diagnostics Team meeting to start, busying herself by scrolling through social media over eleven times in the last five minutes.

Steps away, Ethan sat at his desk, keeping a cold shoulder and looking over files he purposely keeps on his desk for awkward times just as these. The air between them stiff and stale, as heavy as it was months ago when they had their falling out. They should have acclimated to the unrelenting suffocation of being left alone together - the third shadow accompanying whatever was left of them.

But they hadn’t. Never really could once she realized Ethan would never forgive her for forming a survivalistic attachment to his biggest adversary. Rebecca Lao wasn’t going to let a man’s misplaced pride stifle her. So, she refuses to stroke his ego by hiding - even through the rancor of being alone with him, and the twangs that erupt when they’re this close. She’s not going to idly hover outside, biding time until Harper or Tobias or Naveen or a nurse, or anyone else enters the office first. She’ll sit and she’ll wait for work to begin.

And Ethan Ramsey will sit at his desk and pretend she’s not there. He’ll pretend he can’t smell her perfume, or hear the tapping of her nails to her phone or the heel to the floor as her leg jitters. He’ll pretend she’s nothing more than a ghost of the past lingering in the cornerstone of his conscious, like all the others. He’ll convince himself he’s angled away from her just enough to keep a peripheral eye on the door in case there’s an emergency, even if that line of vision is really just of her.

If Tobias noticed Ethan staring blankly ahead, he didn’t dare attempt to feign interest. The olive-skinned addition sauntered straight over to Becca, hands full and a thin, satisfied smile at home on his lips.

He set down a large coffee and sandwich wrapped in white paper in front of her. Ethan could just about read the stickered logo from where he sat. But he could see the undoubtable way Becca’s eyes lit up.  

“Is this from...”

“The one and only,” Tobias had a cheeky grin - a kind of unbridled simper.

“That was fast.”

“Said I’d buy you breakfast, and I did.” He pulled out the chair closest to her and sat with his signature nonchalant grace. “Did you think I’m not a man of my word?” His hand was waving, palm up, towards the small feast before her.

“More like a flubber.”

Becca’s playful tone matched his in the most complimentary way.

Ethan caught the shining smile they shared - one that could only indicate an inside joke. One that could only mean they were spending too much time together. One that could only mean they were getting along.

Then Tobias plucked a strip of bacon off her sandwich.

And that was when something snapped in Dr. Ramsey.

They weren’t meant to be comfortable. They’re meant to suffer. That was the whole point of constantly pairing them together. These two flawed and moralless people were meant to be a punishment. Just for a while. Just until...

They made a house out of crushed stones.

They flipped the script on how this was meant to play out, and Ethan vehemently resented them for it.

As soon as Harper entered the office, Ethan bolted to his feet and rattled through the meeting. Swift, succinct and blinded by the need to be alone. Alone to plot what comes next.

He was gruffer with them for the rest of the day, and this time they noticed. The scorn seeped through Ethan’s characteristic distain like nuclear waste. Neither Becca or Tobias were guilty of whatever Ethan was holding them accountable for this time - a scapegoat for his repressed feelings. Then why did Becca feel guilty? She did nothing wrong - then or now. This is a natural progression to the seeds he sowed by banishing them.

Ethan will just have to live with the consequences.  

***

The consequences came two weeks later. Powerful and damning and freezing Ethan in place, right in the middle of his office. Right in front of them. 

Tobias and Becca were perched on the diagnostics’ couch. Becca’s hand is in his and he’s rubbing gentle circles of adoration to the soft skin. He didn’t stop his ministrations as the air around them, once a glorious heated serenity, now turned icy. The chill wafting through with the large presence of their past.

“I don’t want to know,” he grumbles as he pulls himself out of his stupor and storms towards his desk.

The words of her off-handed response were as hard as a lingering look into Medusa’s eyes. “Yes you do, Ethan. So ask.”

The contempt. The exasperation. The overall vile irksome in her tone… It was baiting him. She was baiting him to lose his temper. To acknowledge it all. Ethan didn’t mean to say his inner thoughts out loud, didn’t mean to revert on the divine separation he’s put between them all. And he certainly didn’t mean for her to mistake this moment as an olive branch. However decrepit it is. 

Ethan didn’t ask. Just shakes his head and tries to fall back into his ignorance. 

He hears the creak of the couch as the pair stand up and the shuffling of two people moving as one. Ethan’s trying so hard not to watch them - trying not to assess their every move and read too much into it. The pair move towards the door when he speaks -

An authoritative statement pegged directly at her. Eyes devoid of feeling, blue irises creeping down the Marianas trench.

“It is unethical to be involved with a colleague.”

Ethan Ramsey was foolish. Especially so to believe he could have the last word - the last victory of battle in the war he started. For Rebecca spun around with such purpose, the skirt of her dress catching on the wind. Her hands at her sides balling, sharp nails grazing palms.

A rueful snort escapes her, “Thought it was only unethical if there’s a power imbalance?”

She had him there. With the forced team democracy Tobias wasn’t technically a superior. Never mind that they aren’t together. Not really.

If he was a better man, Tobias would intervene and set the record straight. He’d position himself in the five feet between these two Edenbrook legacies instead of behind her. Watching. Decoding every tell tale in the tableau.

The way they were glaring at one another, well... The suspicion that floated as his reasoning to send the basket all those months ago was more than confirmed. And Tobias Carrick just realized what he’s just gotten himself into.

“There will be no fraternizing within my team,” Ethan’s voice strained to keep calm. Tried not to bellow the rule he’s kept in place when it comes to Rebecca Lao. His ears beginning to redden and the vein of his neck protruding. 

Becca huffed a dry laugh, folded her arms across her chest and looked away. Towards Tobias.

In a few seconds many things happened. Becca’s eyes locked on Tobias, shooting him a look that could only mean one thing. Tobias smiled just for her. Ethan’s heart shattered. And Becca turned back to Ethan.

Her once copper eyes now almost entirely black. “Define fraternizing.”

That had Ethan sputtering and Tobias’ sly smile broadening.

“Because friendship is one thing,” she continued. “Sexual intercourse, another.”

That got a rise out of both men for very different reasons.

“Either way, the nature of my relationship with Tobias is none of your concern.”

They’re staring one another down. His sapphire eyes darker than she’s ever seen - all the hurt they’ve caused one another swirling between. Becca can feel the regret in the tension of his shoulders and the stiffness of his jaw. But for what, she doesn’t know - doesn’t want to. The longer she stands here, looking at him for the first time in months, she fears she’ll see every facet of pain she’s caused, and every reason to back down. And that’s too much to bear. Even after it all there’s still a part of her that loves him, always will. 

She’s strong as stone before him, refusing to waver.

Tobias itches to say something, anything. Something that wouldn’t just cut through the tension... 

“If it makes you feel better we’ll disclose to HR.”

Ethan’s neck could have snapped with the force of the swiftness as his head whipped towards his rival. Eyes narrowed and sizing Tobias up - decoding every subtext of the phrase. Every little bit of their unknown closeness. 

With his steely gaze stuck on Tobias, Becca found the strength to pull away. Turned her back on Ethan and began walking out - not a single glance thrown back over her shoulder for either man. Tobias less than half a step behind her. Leaving Ethan with one final look. 

As Ethan watched them walk out, he deflates. A knife stabbed straight to the heart he wasn’t sure he still had. Red blood that beat because of her. 

For her. 

Still.

***BONUS POV***

As soon as they were out of earshot, down the corridor and away from any lingering ears, Tobias spoke; 

“Ever going to tell me what happened between you and Ramsey?”

“A mistake, apparently.”

He squeezed her hand and that’s all that was said on the subject.      

______________________

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

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[clairecrive]

“Closeness”- Bane x reader

A/N: I’m back you guys! Writing this was like a breath of fresh air and it got me back to writing.This was supposed to be short and sweet but it turned out long and fluffy. I mean I’m not mad about it and I hope you won’t either. 

Summary: Bane comes home after a long work day, his mind still caught up on something that happened during the day, so his significant other takes it upon themselves to cheer him up.

Word count: 2.4K

Tw: cockworming, nudity but it’s mostly fluffy 

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog​, @evelynshelby​, @br0ck-eddie​, @of-love-and-of-the-sea​, @shadow-of-wonder​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @fandom--0verdose​, @sopxhiea​, @fuseburner​, @ashesbelle​, @kind-wolf​ (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

The bed creaked when Bane sat on it to remove his shoes. It was late at night and he had just gotten home while you were engrossed in the book you decided to read while waiting for him.  The scene was familiar for both of you as this happened almost every night: if he'd come home at a reasonable hour, he'd find you in bed with a book or watching tv so that you wouldn't fall asleep and could see him whenever he'd get home. You had learned not to approach him right away, as when he had had a bad day he would usually come home still worked up about it and was liable to snap. So you waited for him to give you some kind of signal, wondering what was going to be tonight.

It came in the form of a long sigh. The boots were discarded on the floor and the bones in his neck popped as he stretched it to relieve some tension. It caught your attention as it was an unusual sound to come from him. Anger and stress translated into restlessness and groans and while he manifested rage by being extremely calm and cold on the outside making him look scary and unpredictable, observing him now you deduced that that wasn't it. It was something else.

Closing the book, you kept a close eye on him. His stance didn't appear tense, on the contrary, his shoulders slouched. And if the sigh hadn't alarmed you enough, noticing this certainly did. Bane never slouched. His posture was always correct and proper, his back straight and chin up.

Something was definitely bothering him.

"Babe?" you quietly called him trying to test the waters. A grunt was all you got.

"Everything alright?" your voice a little stronger, your worry evident. He just lowered his head and held it in his hands and although he didn't say anything out loud, his body let you know everything you needed to. You crawled on the bed stopping behind him. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you gently started massaging the zone trying to make him relax.

"What's wrong?" you softly in his ear after he had lifted it from his hands.

"I had a bad day but I do not wish to talk about it." He slightly turned his head to you and his tone matched yours albeit it came out a bit harsh because of his mask, but you had learned to understand him by now.

"Alright." Leaving a small peck on the side of his neck, you moved to climb off the bed. Bane's hand reached out to yours to stop you from getting away as if to check in with you and make sure he hadn't offended you somehow. Holding his hand, you gesture that you'd only be a moment, letting him know that he was fine.

Both of you had always been adamant on sharing whatever was troubling you right away instead of keeping it all bottled up as you both agreed on it being a bad habit. It didn't always work as it's easier said than done and while Bane, true to himself, came in strong and usually ended up demanding you to speak, you tried to be more mindful of his needs. You knew firsthand that sometimes you don't have the right words to express what you're feeling or you're not in the right state of mind to talk about it, so you tried to keep it in mind when dealing with him.

What you found always worked with him was creating a safe zone where he felt comfortable enough to share whatever was on his mind. Due to his lifestyle, Bane doesn't let go easily. This meant that he did not trust easily but even once he had allowed you in, he still tended to keep everything to himself. At the beginning it was a problem, you didn't know each other that well and you took his reluctance to open up as a lack of trust from his part. Filling the tub and lighting some candles, you smiled fondly at the memory of his awkward attempt to explain and to reassure you that that wasn't the case. His eloquence oddly failing him when he had to talk about his feelings.

When the water had reached the desired level, you turned the tap off and poured your rose-scented soap that you knew he secretly loved.

"Babe, come here." You knew he was probably already looking at you, he had a problem with staring that you had already addressed before, but either way, he kept doing it and with time his eyes on you didn't make you tense or anxious but felt natural.

"I would have thought you had already taken your bath seeing as it's past midnight." He said once he saw what you had been up to, totally misreading the situation.

"This isn't for me," you cooed at him implying that it was for him but all he did was arching one of his eyebrows and look at you sceptically. So you took matter into your own hands and started unbuttoning his vest. With every garment that came off, a kiss was placed in its place.

"A hot bath will do you good." His stance previously so tense, grew looser as the items of clothing came off and your kisses and caresses were the only things he could feel. Trailing softly on his skin from his collarbone, one of your hands came to his and gently coaxed him towards the bathtub. It seems that whatever put him in this mood was so bad that Bane let you lead him where you wanted without making a fuss.

He lowered himself in the bathtub and as soon as the warm water hit his aching muscles a groan left his mouth. Happy that it worked, you watched as he shuffled to find a comfortable position to lay in and when he settled, you reached for the soft sponge you had already set out and gently rubbed it on his chest.

He opened one of his eyes at the new feeling, "I am no longer a child, I am capable of washing myself", he stated in his usual as-a-matter-of-fact tone but he didn't make a move to stop what you were doing.

"Close your eyes and relax," you replied without missing a beat. "You've had a bad day so I'm taking care of you. I know you're capable of doing it but I am also capable of washing and pampering you and so I'll do it." Sarcasm filled your voice - you were amused at his antics more than anything. You didn't stop your movements, scraping away the dirt with the sponge and then making sure to give more attention to all the spots you knew were bothering him; you take your time and make sure that every part of his body is taken care of. Soon enough you reached his legs and took your time in rubbing his feet. You could only imagine how sore they were after more than 24h of standing. You've never met someone as hardworking as Bane in your life, it was one of the things you admired in him but at the same time, after living with the man for a while, you realized with what personal sacrifice it came with. He was one of those men who put work first- not only above his personal life but also his health. You had tried countless of times to get him to find a healthier balance and if the walls of your home could speak, they'd tell of his stubbornness.

"It's late y/n, you should be in bed."

"Don't worry babe, I don't mind. I like taking care of you." You smiled at him before moving your attention on his other foot.

You knew he was deep into the narrative of "I'm the man, therefore, I'm the one who has to take care of you", however, you thought it was utter bullshit. Yes, you liked how careful and mindful of you he was. What you didn't like was him refusing to accept the fact that you wanted to take care of him too and that allowing you to wouldn't make him less of a man. It was just a way to show him that you loved him. And maybe he had finally got it too because he doesn't fight you anymore as much as he did in the beginning.

"Why don't you join me?" he asked after a while and when you opened your mouth to answer him he spoke again as if he already knew what you were going to say, "I'd like to hold you."

Sometimes, Bane had the ability to disarm you. To leave you completely clueless as to how to react to what he did, or in this case, said. Usually, it was with his eloquent way of speaking and his complex thought process that he would always leave you to marvel at him and at how lucky you were to be with him. Very rarely though, he'd say something so sweet, in a way so simple that a warm and fuzzy feeling took over your body and you were suddenly rendered speechless.

So, you usually gave up trying to give him a worded answer and resorted to action, quickly undressing so you could join him.

He was so big that he took up all the available space in the tub but before you could wonder where to sit, his hands steadily guided you until you were laying on him. As your arms circled his chest, your face buried in his neck and he guided your legs around his waist. You couldn't be closer than this and as his arms tightened around you, you figured it was exactly what he wanted. And as for you, you'd never turn down cuddling time.

"Sometimes, I find it hard to believe that you're mine." His voice cut through the quiet atmosphere of the bathroom, his mask stroking your shoulder where it was resting. There was something in his voice that gave you chills. Sensing that this statement hide something more serious underneath, you pushed yourself up and gently perched on his chest so that you could look into his eyes while speaking.

"I don't know what happened today, but whatever it is, it has nothing to do with how I feel about you. Nor could it ever change it." You reminded him while his face leaned on your hand that was stroking his cheek.

"Unless what you did today was cheating on me. That would definitely change things," you added to lighten the mood sure in your heart that he'd never do it. "But I'm sure that's not the case, is it?" It was more of a rhetorical question really but it was to lure him out of that bad space his mind was in at the moment.

"I would never do that to you." He confirmed and you smiled brightly at him. Words failed to express how much you loved this man, you hoped that your eyes were doing a better job.

"You are loved and you are worthy of it." You continued with a more serious tone.

"You are lovable and I do love you, Bane." You pecked the grate of his mask letting your words sink in before speaking again. "Do not listen to that nasty voice in your head that tells you otherwise. You are everything I need and even more that I could want. I am lucky to have you because you're special. You're brilliant, the brightest man I know, fiercely loyal, you're good at everything you do and you're so hardworking. Last but not least, you make me feel like the most special girl in the world."

"I am the lucky one." His fingers trailed lightly your back while he mirrored your smile. At least you figured as much by the way his eyes narrowed.

"Let's agree the universe smiled at both of us that day, hm?" Another peck was left on where his mouth was supposed to be and you went to your comfortable position on his chest when something poked your attention.

"I thought you were tired," you gasped in mock surprise when there was no doubt on what it was. And, as a matter of fact, Bane didn't even attempt to hide it. His hands simply moved to your lower back and pushed you to him to create some friction.

"I crave the closeness, nothing has to happen." Almost as if to shush you, one of his hands cradled your head and pushed it further into his neck while the other moved you up on his body so that you were perfectly aligned with him.

"Baby, there's no way we can get closer than this." But of course, he was already working on proving you wrong. And you understood you were once he slowly pushed into you and despite being skin to skin, only now you felt like you were one.

"I never would have guessed you liked cock warming," you pointed out after a while. Both of your fingers were caressing the other's skin at leisure. The water was still warm and the soft light from the candles only added to the already relaxed atmosphere. There was nowhere else you'd rather be right now. Not even your bed.

"I'll admit that I've never cared for the intimacy it offered before." Ugh, this man was definitely after your heart.

"I can see what you mean. I agree It's not something you can do with everyone." You ought to be comfortable enough with your partner to do something like this. Now, being comfortable with yourself was a challenge of its own for you, so for you to be naked on him while he could see and feel everything was a love confession alone. And Bane knew that it was why he had never asked to this before.

In your own way, both of you was saying something to the other just by laying there together. And being so in tune with the other, both of you were aware of it. With every caress and every second that passed, the only thing you could feel was your heart swell with gratitude for the human you held in your arms.

#bane #bane x reader #bane imagine #bane imagines #TDKR #bane dcu #bane one shot #bane fluff #bane smut #tom hardy #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy imagines

[we-love-imagines]

Hi! Can you do a one shot college au Jotaro x reader? The idea is: all Joestars are brothers and they create a playlist for Jotaro that he'll have to make the reader listen to as a way to confess. All the songs are romantic, except the last one which is an addition from Joseph, Josuke and Jolyne and which would be "E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY LIFE", just to embarrass him in front of the reader and also to make a funny moment lolol You are a very talented writer! I'm happy that I found you on tumblr:D

This anon has my heart, you’re so sweet!!! I’m so sorry this took so long!!! I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Cursing and lots of fluff!

I Should Have Never Asked For Help

It is a well-known fact among the Joestars that Jotaro is bad with words. Comically so. The only way he’d ever say “I love you,” to the rest of them would be through gritted teeth, pulling his signature black cap over his eyes. They loved him all the same, knowing how he cared for his family deep down, but they all acknowledged how affection was never his strong-suit.

That’s why when Joseph claimed Jotaro had the hots for someone, nobody believed him. Joseph and Jotaro shared a math class at university, and Joseph was picking up on the lingering stares he sent your way during lectures. When you started a study group before finals, he was the first to sign up. Joseph was taken aback when you greeted Jotaro before class, and he didn’t tell you to fuck off. He knew something was up with his little brother, and having no respect for boundaries, he couldn’t help but tease.

Usually huffing in response, Jotaro would brush off his older brother’s teasing. While he did feel something towards you, he certainly didn’t have the means to act on it. Jotaro wasn’t entirely used to the feeling, and he was happy with how things were. As Joseph’s teasing grew more bold and incessant, making kissy faces whenever you were around, Jotaro started to get pissy. Even the lightest of teasing while you were nearby really pushed Jotaro’s buttons.

One day, when Joseph made a comment about catching Jotaro staring at you while you were within earshot, it all boiled over. Jotaro ushered his brother away from you, hiding his blushing face under his hat as he finally admitted to Joseph that he did have a thing for you. Ecstatic, Joseph insisted Jotaro ask you out. Jotaro had thought about it, for sure, but he admitted to his brother he didn’t know how. While girls tended to gravitate towards Jotaro in highschool, he’d never asked anyone out on a proper date before.

Thinking back on how he won Suzie Q over with a mixtape, Joseph got an idea to help his brother. When the pair got home, Joseph pulled out his phone and asked each Joestar sibling their favorite love song, hoping someone’s music taste would overlap with yours. There was a good variety in there, too; some slow, sweet songs picked out by Jonathan and Giorno, some light pop picked out by Josuke, and some fun additions from Jolyne and Joseph himself.

When Jolyne asked what this was for, Joseph confided with her that this was to help Jotaro ask someone out. A mischievous glint appeared in her eye, never missing an opportunity to mess with her older brother. Being pretty active online, Jolyne had become very familiar with Corpse Husband and the millions of fangirls raving about him 24/7, and she’d heard his signature song a handful of times. The edgy, deep-voiced Internet personality kind of reminded her of her brother, so she couldn’t resist pulling his leg a little bit.

Getting a notification on his phone, Jotaro saw that Joseph had sent him the completed playlist. He let out a deep sigh, too nervous to look at the songs they had picked out, and even more nervous to show them to you. Trusting his siblings, just this once, he put his phone down and went to bed.

~

The next day, Jotaro got up early to meet with you before classes started. He took extra care to get himself ready, brushing his teeth for an extra few seconds and applying slightly more cologne than usual. He was nervous beyond belief, leaving the house without a word to an excited Joseph to find you.

You usually met him inside the library, which housed your study room, but he was surprised to see you standing outside the building. Smiling and waving as you saw him, you motioned for him to follow you inside. Had you been waiting for him?

“How are you, Jojo?” you hum, making your way into the study room and taking your normal seat at the table. Jotaro made a huffing noise and shrugged in response. Warm, morning sunlight poured into the room as you pulled the textbooks from your bag, quickly glancing at your phone to see the other few members of your group couldn’t make it today.

“Looks like it’s just us today,” you sigh to him, opening up your textbook to the bookmarked page, “We left off here last time-”

“-Wait, before we start,” he cut you off, capturing your attention as you readied your materials, “You’re into music, right?”

You chuckled lightly in response, “Who isn’t?”

He gulped, pulling his phone from his pocket as he fiddled around to find where he had saved the playlist. Thank god he had a good poker face, his body a bundle of nerves as he hoped it didn’t show. His only tell were the few beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he turned to face you, showing you his device.

“I made you a playlist,” he stated in almost monotone, trying to hide how his cheeks pinked when your smile widened at his words. Truly taken aback, you couldn’t hide your own blush as you took the phone from his hands, adjusting the screen to see it better in the morning light. The playlist was titled simply, ‘For (y/n)’, but it still made your heart flutter.

“Thank you Jotaro, this is really sweet!” You chime at him, Jotaro only nodding in response, “May I play it?”

Jotaro gulped again. This was it.

“You may.”

You hit play, placing the phone on the table as you quietly thanked Jotaro once again. Slow notes began playing, Jotaro’s nervous ticks showing more, his foot anxiously tapping against the carpet. This song was a cheesy classic, surely a pick by Jonathan: Elvis’s I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You. It was a little on-the-nose for his taste, but he watched as you got an excited glint in your eyes as you recognized the first few bars.

“I love this song!” you chirp, happily grooving along as you begin moving your attention back to your textbook. He nervously wondered if the meaning of the playlist was lost on you. It released the tension in his body, the thought of rejection flying out the window, but he was left with a bit of disappointment in his gut. Ideally, you would have caught on and returned his affections, but that gratification would never come.

You continued to enjoy the music as you worked, quietly singing along as you two quizzed each other on the various concepts. You enjoyed the varied music, some songs slower and others more upbeat. As you continued to listen, you paid more attention to the words- were these songs all romantic?

“I didn’t take you for a sap, Jojo,” you jested, “These are all pretty lovey-dovey!”

“-That’s the point.”

He was surprised with his own boldness, all his nerves returning as he saw your eyes go wide in realization. Quickly going tomato red, your heart thumped in your chest as you put it together that Jotaro was asking you out. While you had developed a little crush on him yourself, you never thought he would ever reciprocate your feelings, let alone make the first move.

“Oh!” you shakily breathe, “This is- wow, this is out of left field!”

“Is this weird?” he hesitantly asked, letting slip a little anxiousness in his voice. Touching his hand, you reach out to him.

“Oh no no no-” you hurriedly reassure, “No! I really like it, Jojo!”

You take a deep breath as you finish your thought.

“I really like you, Jojo!”

With that, he lets slip a breathy sigh from his lips, giving you a rare smile as he reciprocates your touch. He places his thumb over the back of your palm, rubbing a little circle on it as he wipes the sweat from his brow.

“That’s a relief,” he jokingly murmured, sharing a little laugh with you as the song that was playing ended. You both were caught off guard as a new, louder song filled the room.

CHOKE ME LIKE YOU HATE ME BUT YOU LOVE ME-

Immediately he went red again, whispering his annoyed catchphrase to himself as he put his hand to his cap. You couldn’t hold your laughter as the filthy Corpse song filled your ears.

“Now this is more your style!” you tease him, nudging him lightly.

“I didn’t make it alone,” he confesses, giving you a small smile as the shock wore off, “But this is the last time I ask for help.”

I Hope you enjoyed! I also made a playlist based off this fic for my sweet anon:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/06A7aN1LtLYWCDNQs04rGa?si=sYaMp0B4RWK3N3zc62gZow

#jjba x reader #jjba #Jotaro x reader #Jotaro kujo x reader #joestar siblings au #inbox is open! #inbox reply #corpse

[kaisa-ryo]

Itadori Yuji NSFW Alphabet

Warning: English isn't my native language!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

A = Aftercare (What he likes after sex)

Itadori likes to chat for a long time. Topics for communication are usually very diverse: from listing the different sex positions he wants to try, to discussing brands of cars, televisions, types of soaps and colors of underwear. In parallel, Yuji will stroke your back, causing your body to creep. So the love attraction that you already experienced with him before suddenly takes on a special intensity. When he has a need to receive your affection, he will begin to sink under the covers until he rests his nose against your chest or stomach. By this action, he asks you to play with his hair. At this moment, he may stop talking altogether, because instead of chatting, he will hum with pleasure. In addition, he will try with all his might and in various positions to snuggle up to you with his strong male body. And you will begin with great skill to stroke his hair and gradually increase the pressure in order to induce real ecstasy in him.

B = Body part (His favorite body part)

Obviously the hips and butt.

It is a blissful feeling when he squeezes your buttocks as he continuously enters you. And in the morning, when you start looking in the mirror, you notice that your thighs are scarlet. As you examine yourself, Itadori in the next room sees your stunned expression in the mirror and smiles proudly.

C = Cum (Everything about sperm)

He usually ends up on the aforementioned body parts. Although he experiences no less high pleasure when he watches how his hot semen flows down from your vagina. Or the mouth. And if you also swallow his seed, it will completely discourage him. It's so awkward and at the same time arousing when a girl literally lets a part of you into her. It's like you start making it a part of yourself. The part of his soul that passes through your body, moving on to the next stage of orgasm.

D = Dirty secret

To tell you the truth - there are a lot of them. Despite the fact that he almost always speaks with you frankly on intimate topics.

He often thinks about how he will kick you through the school desk and fuck you under the light of the graceful sunset that falls through the half-open blinds.

About how madly tempting it would be if you suck him off somewhere in the closet.

How to fuck you by the sea on soft sand.

There is no limit to these secret desires. Someday he will definitely tell you about all of them. And, of course, it will.

E = Experience

The highest level of experience in intercourse is masturbation. Yes, he has seen a lot of different videos on porn sites and instant messengers. And of course, he remembers them every single one. He has a lot of sexual fantasies. And they are all related to you. But they need to be implemented.

It will also ask you about your experience. For example, can you do a blow job. If you do not know about any sexual arts, he will certainly show you a video, explain how and what to do, ask if you like this objectively.

You can even say that he has much more indirect experience than you. But Yuji likes it. I like to teach you everything that he himself knows from the erotic videos he has watched.

F = Favorite position

In general, you have tried an innumerable number of poses all the time, but none can compare with the one when he presses you into bed from behind. When your penis plunges into the innermost and holds you so tightly that it begins to seem as if it has completely absorbed you.

G = Goofy (Are you serious at this moment?)

In most cases, yes. Even if this is not the first time you have been doing this, this does not mean that intercourse may not go well. But sometimes passionate excitement can outweigh all expressions of seriousness and turn it into entertainment or stress relief.

H = Hair (Is the hair ok?)

Not that he regularly tidies them up, but tries to make sure that both of you are comfortable. Maybe he prefers not to show it, but Itadori is really worried that you will be uncomfortable. Although the hair itself does not really interfere.

I = Intimacy (Romance)

Yes. And a lot.

Itadori literally melts when he sees you smile, the reason for which is his sweet and romantic actions. For him, there is no line between "boyfriend" and "spouse". And, of course, he regularly scrolls in his head how you have a large shared apartment, wedding rings, children ...

The guy is ready to even get you the moon from the sky, just to see your charming smile once again, to feel how you jump on his neck and say that you love him with all your heart. Sometimes he gets carried away - and then his hand reaches out to you to stroke your cheek, circle around your neck, say some banality, without which it is difficult for you to live. And sometimes you think that at such moments Itadori... looks a little more naive. But he does not see anything wrong with this and continues to cherish you, like the most priceless treasure on earth.

J = Jack off (masturbation)

It happens. And even after the start of your relationship.

In moments when you are far away, he records your telephone conversation, asks you to throw off your photos, turns on a home video taken once secretly from you ... then he starts "playing with his snake", quietly moaning your name. And if you start writing or talking on the phone, how much you want him now, it will just go crazy, imagining how he is fucking you on the bed right now. After all, it is such a pleasure to realize that your body receives only what you so passionately dream about and what you want.

— Mnh... yes, y/n... please continue...

K = Kink (Kinks and fetishes)

As mentioned earlier — home video. Yuji prefers to do this in secret, since he knows it will embarrass you. And besides, you will immediately guess why he does it.

He also has one fetish that you know about. Namely — voyeurism. When you change clothes, stand in the shower, or try on a swimsuit, he closely monitors your actions while standing outside the door. So he initiates you into his intimate world, where you can become his muse.

In addition, he has several types of perversions that he considers esoteric. For example, he really loves to admire your naked body and inhale its aroma, starting from the neck. This also applies to your personal things — your scent is also felt on them, and Itadori constantly examines and sniffs your things, hoping to feel your scent. It's kind of like a drug for him, and he likes to wake up in the morning and feel that your hair is still felt on his neck. And if you put on his clothes... it seems like some kind of new fetish. Now on his things your next smell. It's fucking exciting...

L = Location (Favorite places to have sex)

It makes no difference. The place does not depend on the amount of pleasure received from the process. True, you still have to find compromises. Because if it is convenient for him to hold your legs, simultaneously entering your bosom again and again, then it is quite problematic for you to be in the air, holding on to his shoulders. Thus, you get less pleasure. But do not think, he is not a rabbit, to fuck you wherever he wants, the guy will definitely ask if you want it. And yes, he does have a line between "normal" and "too public."

M = Motivation

All your movements are in clothes, which emphasizes the whole aesthetics of your body. As if hypnotized, Itadori watches your curves, how they change when you change posture or movement. When you are in your underwear, you specifically approach him and start to flirt playfully. When you wear his things, as mentioned by the way earlier. And oh shit, how turns him on when you show yourself a new swimsuit and ask to rate.

N = No (Which won't do)

Anything that will harm you. It doesn't matter whether it's big or small. If Yuji feels that he can be rude to you, then he will definitely warn you to tell when it hurts. After all, on the verge of orgasm, he may not notice that you are uncomfortable or unpleasant.

O = Oral (Likes to receive or to give)

More is to give. His head is blown away because you are moaning his name sweetly and loudly, demanding more. Your morning kiss and praise for being amazing last night will give him confidence. And then, perhaps, your next night will be even better than the previous one.

Although one should not ignore his desires with needs. The guy will be very upset if, for some reason, you do not give him pleasure with oral sex.

P = Pace

In this he is a real professional Yuji knows perfectly well how to stretch pleasure and orgasm as much as he wants. A small effort of will is enough for him, which he has at least a spoonful.

At first he will start with smooth movements, and then gradually accelerate. At the same time, it will be easy to prolong your pleasure, because you will feel the strongest sexual charge directed in your direction. And with each strong orgasm, you will experience not only physical, but also mental pleasure.

Q = Quickie

From slow and smooth thrusts to wet and hot suddenness, it makes you feel your own intoxication, as if you are high. Superhuman abilities do give good results. As it turned out, not only in sports.

R = Risk (Ready to experiment)

In other matters, he is unlikely to refuse, since he himself has long wanted this. But Itadori is a responsible person, so he will think a hundred times and make sure that you accept the offer accurately. Do not be surprised that he will act agitated during such sex. He, like you, understands that this risk is serious and can create real problems.

S = Stamina (Stamina)

You should prepare caffeine and energy drinks, as this machine will squeeze everything out of itself, despite the fact that you yourself were exhausted already in the third round. He will not be enough all the time, and if you ever start to black out from fatigue, the guy will scream that he has not finished yet. It even forces you to limit the number of your intercourse per week, as his stamina is exhausting. And you've told him about it more than once.

T = Toys

In this regard, Yuji is more cunning and impudent. He always refuses to have toys for himself, although he himself does not mind tormenting you with a vibrator or even slipping it into your panties, justifying this by the fact that he does this to keep you close, at the same time showing his concern for you, flickering his ghost in your head. But he's not lucky that you're not such a naive fool. Despite this, the guy gets hit on the head, with a very convincing request never to do this again.

U = Unfair (Does he like to tease)

Very much not even against, but not much into it. Over time, it bothers both you and him, and all actions cease to be unpredictable.

V = Volume (How loud is it)

Pretty loud. But in the volume of your moans, you take over.

They start with stifled growls, to groans because of how fucking amazing and sexy you are. And it all ends like a sugary, but trustworthy silence. Your loud moans of pleasure are a sign that you both were good.

W = Wild card (Random headcanon)

Once there was a case where Yuji could not come. He felt that he could not come even if he wanted to. His arms and legs seemed to be glued together, and he himself froze. I started to panic, think of reasons in my head. You, in turn, noticed this too, and when you asked what was the matter, Itadori turned pale and speechless. After that, he sat down on the bed, and here you started to worry. It turned out that he had masturbated too much over the past month, which has formed a habit of certain stimulation of the penis. At the news, you laughed, and he blushed. But at the same moment he exhaled with satisfaction. The guy was glad that the reason was not in you and not in his health.

X = X-ray (What's under the clothes)

16 cm. During erection ± 2.5

Y = Yearning (How high is the sex drive)

Sex serves him for several purposes: relieving stress, sexual tension, just as a way to prove his love for you... Sometimes the beginning of sexual intercourse depends on his arousal. But for your sake, he's trying his best to hold back. Resorted to masturbation instead of sex, but as you already know, even this has its own problems. Seeing him so depressed, you also do not bypass the mutual concern. Even if you don't really want to do this or you are not in the mood, you will never refuse him. Although you will never let him relax and stop controlling himself. Do not miss the opportunity to talk to him about this, because, of course, he also needs it - to get rid of an inferiority complex and so on...

Overall, ± 8/10

Z = Zzz (How quickly falls asleep)

Quite surprisingly, even in spite of his endless chatter before going to bed, as soon as he put his head on the pillow and lean on you, he falls asleep instantly. You feel him in your arms like a small hyperactive child who constantly wants to tell you something or, out of habit, make a row. And myself in his arms — protected by a large and strong wall.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #jjk x y/n #jjk #jjk x you #jjk itadori #jjk yuji #itadori yuuji imagines #itadori yuji x reader #alphabet