#(though he had always tended to push his magic a bit too much)

[crusty-chronicles]

Just Friends

An: Dropping this one before I watch the first episode of the live action today!!!!! Hope y'all enjoy.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" You chastised the red headed demon as you plucked another vine from his arm. Making sure to go over the injury with alcohol before wrapping it.

"Is that so?"

You met his amused expression with a glare. How this man could be so unfazed by a literal plant growing out of him, you'd never know. How he still found the energy to be cheeky was a mystery as well.

Although you knew it wasn't entirely his fault he was this injured. That damn tournament committee was partial to blame. Sabotaging Urameshi and his friends for no other reason than them being human. Betting money was another factor. Still, if Kurama hadn't been so cocky with the first demon, he wouldn't have been through hell after.

"Absolutely. You should've never fought twice in a row. Now look at you." You gestured towards the many open wounds on his chest.

"You're covered in blood. You're so damn lucky I'm studying to be a doctor." You dabbed more alcohol than you should've on a cotton ball before cleaning the scratches on his face.

A feeling of smugness when he let out a slight hiss.

"It hurts? Good. Maybe next time you'll learn to be more careful."

It was quite the sight to see. Kurama sitting obediently while you tended to his wounds. Letting you scold him without much complaint or push back. Kurama, a demon who'd lived hundreds of years with unfathomable knowledge, allowed you to call him stupid.

The most independent and arguably the most reserved, getting chewed out by a mere human.

It was funny, too. How he seemed to subtly lean into your touch. Closing his eyes while you wiped his face and releasing a content sigh when you finished. As if he were being pampered.

"You know I got injured pretty badly too. Maybe you should come clean my injuries." Yusuke called out. Though it was mostly meant to tease the fox demon.

You turned to face him at the same time Kurama's gaze hardened. A warning look directed at the spirit detective. But he could tell it wasn't really needed as you dismissed his offer.

"What am I the team doctor? I can't do all that 'magic power' stuff to heal what you've got going on." You gestured to the various brusing littered across Yusuke's body.

"You're best bet is Yukina."

"But you've got a delicate touch."

At his flirty tone you shot up from the bed and proceeded to chase him.

"I'll show you delicate!"

Kurama watched you go with a disappointed look. Missing your warmth besides him. Although he wasn't too happy with you being here, he couldn't deny being glad to have your familiar presence near him.

He had wanted to keep you far away from this. From his past that unfortunately intertwined with his present. Trying his best not to expose you to what he really was. A small part of him was still angry at Botan for bringing you here. But then again, she'd brought a prominent figure in each of his friends' lives as well. So he wasn't the only one dealing with this. He'd rather it be you than his mother wondering where he was.

Still, you were human. And a troublesome one at that. It was surprising you hadn't gotten in a brawl with a demon yet. Especially ones that were openly cheering for his demise.

You'd always been a bit protective of him. Having met as children when you defended him from being bullied for his fiery hair and oddly green eyes. Yelling and biting at the other kids until they left. Only to turn around and tell him he was gonna be your best friend from now on.

Something he thought was odd at the time. A human telling him what to do? Then again, he wasn't all that different from you in his new body. And he needed to be able to keep up appearances until he fully regained his powers. So he accepted and let you drag him where you pleased. He let you ramble about everything and nothing at the same time. He let you comfort him when his mother fell ill.

He grew to love having you in his life. Your lectures about how he shouldn't let others taunt him, even if he was fully capable of protecting himself. Though of course you didn't know that. He admired your ambition to enter the medical field so you could help the people who needed it. He looked forward to seeing your soft side that you'd only show to him after a long day.

You'd made him feel human.

Which is why he tried so hard to hide everything about his previous life from you. If you found out you'd most likely be scared or put in even more danger.

And he just couldn't risk losing you either way.

He tried cutting ties with you once, but you were a stubborn one. After what happened with Maya, he thought it was best you kept out of his life. Going as far as avoiding you. To which you responded by confronting him.

"If you don't want to be friends anymore, just tell me. Give me a straight answer instead of acting like a coward."

He was close to telling you he didn't want you around anymore, but the way you looked at him, with so much hurt and betrayal...He just couldn't find it in himself to let you go. Instead he asked you why. Why you didn't find him strange like the rest of your classmates. Why you spent so much time with him. Why it bothered you so much that he was ignoring you.

"Is that really what's bothering you? The answer should be obvious to a brainiac like you. You're important to me, Shuichi."

He realized then that you were important to him, too.

So he allowed himself to keep you around. He deserved that much for everything he's been through. Just so long as you were a part of his human life and not his demon one.

But fate had a funny way of playing things out. He should've known he couldn't keep this part of his life a secret from you forever. He just didn't expect it so suddenly.

Hearing your voice above the others shouting at him from the stands. He thought he might've been imagining it at first, but then he caught a glimpse of you from over the other demon's shoulder. The one that had threatened his mother's life with a push of a button.

He could see that you were nervous. Frustrated would have been a better word. As if you were mad he was letting himself get hurt.

You'd called him an idiot then too, after he won. Jumping down from the stadium and rushing over. Unfazed by the bloodthirsty creatures around you.

"You're such a dumbass. Making a big show out of nothing and letting that guy cut up your face. Let me see how bad it is." You scolded as you grabbed his chin and moved his head around. Inspecting the fresh slashes on his cheek.

"You're here?" He asked, still processing the fact that you were right in front of him. That somehow you managed to find your way back to him.

"Yes??? I don't think he hit you hard enough to have a concussion."

Kurama had to step away from you. All of a sudden overwhelmed because there was no way you were inspecting his injury right now. There was no way you were still treating him like nothing happened. Like he didn't just kill someone right in front of you.

"Why?" It was the only thing he could think to ask. Rendered speechless for the first time in forever.

"Why what?"

"Why are you here? How much do you know?"

How much did that troublesome reaper tell you?

"I'm here because my stupid best friend decided to get himself into trouble without telling me. Did you really think I wouldn't worry about you being gone for weeks? That I wouldn't get suspicious?" You used the sleeve of your shirt to wipe the blood off his face.

"I didn't want you involved." Came his answer. He still didn't know how much you knew. If now was the time to be completely transparent.

"Then you shouldn't have agreed to be my friend. To be honest, I'm a little hurt you didn't even bother to tell me. Let me guess, you thought I would freak out if you told me you were a demon?"

Ah, so you knew everything. Which meant so did the rest of the girls with you. He wanted to be upset at Botan's lack of ability to keep secrets, but he couldn't have been any more relieved.

"You know me almost as good as myself. Though it's surprising you're taking this so well." He allowed himself to relax in your presence. To let you continue inspecting his minor injuries.

"You really think I would care after all we've been through? For someone who's supposedly hundreds of years old, you sure are an idiot Shuichi."

"Shuichi..." He didn't know why his name sounded so foreign coming from you. Maybe a part of him expected you to call him 'Kurama' now that you knew the truth. Or perhaps he just wasn't used to hearing it when he wasn't trying to keep up appearances.

"Yeah? Do you want me to use your tough guy demon name instead? Don't wanna be embarrassed in front of your friends?" Your tone was teasing. And while he would have loved to hear his true name come from your lips, he couldn't deny liking the idea of only you having the privilege to call him Shuichi.

"No. I like it when you use my human name instead. Whatever feels natural for you."

"Alright, but you better promise not to keep any more secrets from me."

He was still cautious with you around, but it was more for your safety than anything. Though he should've been more careful with himself, too. It'd only be more stressful to you the worse he got injured. Still he couldn't promise you that he'd come out completely unscathed.

"You let that human walk all over you like the detective with his woman."

The sound of Hiei's voice brought him back to the present. Hearing the amusement that came with it at Kurama's show of obedience with you. The way he let you get after him for being careless.

"True they have a rather loud mouth, but it comes from a good place. I don't mind all that much, not when they've gone out of their way to mend my injuries. Or would you rather I go to Yukina instead?" A small jest that was made to get the three eyed demon off his back.

But Hiei knew what he was doing and wouldn't be taking the bait this time. Not when he knew he had the upper hand in this conversation.

"You'd give me the opportunity to steal your precious mate while you were distracted?" And judging by Kurama's small glare, he was right.

"... We're just friends." It sounded like he was trying to convince himself. And in a sense he was. He'd never really thought of you in that light. At least, not until recently.

"Hmm." A unimpressed noise before you stumbled in.

Smiling triumphantly after having just tousled with Yusuke and an unfortunate Kuwabara who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The grin wiped off your face seeing Kurama up and about.

"Hey! Did I say you could get up and walk?!? You've lost way too much blood to be moving around! Get your ass back to bed right now!"

"I heal at a much faster rate, remember. I should be just fine." He tried to diffuse, but you weren't having it.

"You're not getting out of this one fox boy. Go lie down or so help me Shuichi, I'll knock you out myself!"

Again you'd used his human name. Who you knew him as. And despite your crude words, he could feel his heart skip a few beats.

Friends made each other's hearts beat a little faster, right?

They sometimes shared kisses with each other during a moment of celebration.

And sometimes, maybe sometimes they thought about what life would be like to wake up next to the other every morning.

"Stay with me and I won't move a muscle."

#yu yu hakusho x reader #yu yu hakusho #x reader #x y/n #kurama x reader #yoko kurama #shuichi minamino

[flametrashiraarchive]

You are the mistress of a house which proudly serves the demon slayer corps. Sanemi is a frequent visitor and likes to come to you for rough stress release... you're not supposed to catch feelings for him.

Content Guidance: NSFW. This story literally starts mid-bang. There is a bit of degradation and explicit sexual content.

Chapter One.

If you didn't know every bit of your anatomy before, fucking Sanemi Shinazugawa whenever he feels like it has definitely taught you. Over the past six months he's made damn sure that you know– and feel the ache in– every muscle in your body.

"Had enough?" He gasps against your spine as he pulls out of you and finishes on your ass for the second time this afternoon. His mouth is hot and vicious, leaving bruising kisses across your flesh.

"No." You twist your fists into the bed sheets as your aching pussy throbs needing his cock again. It's been a long time since you could pinpoint where one orgasm ended and the next began. It's all just one painfully pleasurable blur. You glance over your shoulder to meet the Wind Pillar's wisteria-purple stare. "Keep going. Keep fucking me."

He bares his teeth in a feral grin, snapping his hips against your ass as he pounds into you again. "Needy little slut, aren't you?"

He always takes you from behind.

If it were up to you, you'd watch him throughout; that firm, taut body of his nothing less than a thing of beauty when he's glistening with sweat and growling in pleasure.

But it isn't up to you. Your view is dictated by the callused hand in your hair, pushing your head down until your whimpers are muffled by the mattress. He's always so rough with you. If it didn't feel so damn good you'd think he was punishing you for something.

But, if he ever gave you the choice, you'd like to face him once, clawing like a demon at his firm flesh and sinew, kissing that cruel mouth of his like you've craved since the moment you laid eyes on him. Sanemi never, ever kisses your lips. Every other inch of you, yes, but never there.

As the mistress of the house– a house which so happens to proudly display the wisteria crest, inviting members of the demon slayer corps to stay and rest while their needs are tended to– giving in to these particular whims of the wind hashira isn't strictly required, but they feel far too good to deny him.

"Say it!" He barks at your back as he pounds into you, his heavy balls slapping against you as though they're somehow pissed at you too.

He tugs your hair, lifting your face from the mattress long enough for you to groan, "I'm your needy little slut."

"Yeah," he grunts before a quiet laugh escapes him. "Yeah. My cock feels so fucking good, doesn't it? You can't get enough of it, huh?"

You nod as his thrusts send goosebumps down your back. A fresh wave of pleasure crashes through you as you climax again, crying out in pleasure as he reaches around your hip to strum your clit with his rough fingers.

You cry out, "Oh God, Sanemi! Never stop fucking me."

He laughs, letting your head fall back down onto your forearms before he pulls his dick out of you and drags a desperate whimper from your lips.

But you needn't worry. As much as he likes to tease, this man prides himself on your pleasure. No sooner has his dick left you than his tongue takes its place, feasting on your pussy as though your orgasms are the key to eradicating demons from the earth. He fucks you with his tongue, as he reaches his hands around you; one pinching your nipples, the other stroking your clit when his tongue is inside you.

This fucker with his magical dick and clever, cruel tongue. You could swear that a couple of hours ago you were bickering; some petty verbal sparring match over something trivial. And you know deep down he can't fuck you forever (although he seems to have the stamina for it). He's leaving just as soon as he's through making you come. He'll be setting off on a new mission… but tomorrow just so happens to be your birthday.

Your heart clenches at the thought of spending it filled with worry that Sanemi is off dying in some forsaken demons' lair. Not that you care… honestly. There's really nothing between you. Just sex. Mind blowing, meaningless, addictive sex. Right?

You let out a sigh, and Sanemi stops licking you.

"What's wrong?" He demands, slapping your ass cheek and leaving his hand right where it lands, cupping your aching flesh. "You pass out or something, huh? I don't hear you whining for once."

Placing your hands beneath you, you lift yourself until you're kneeling, before shuffling around to face him. A flutter in your chest stirs up as you drink in the sight of him: scarred and undeniably handsome, wild, white hair, the familiar ferocious look in his eyes which most likely means he's confused, affronted or both. You'd never say it aloud, but you're pretty sure God denied him eyebrows because he already looks permanently pissed off enough as it is.

"It's my birthday tomorrow," you say.

"I know." He licks your slick from his lips, turning his head away from you and staring at the floor beside the bed. "What do you want me to say? Happy fucking birthday?"

Reaching out to cup his jaw in your hand, his name leaves your lips. "Sanemi…"

He catches your wrist, fury flashing in his eyes until he looks away again. "What the hell are you doing?"

Good question. To be honest, you aren't entirely sure. Your fingers flex against empty air, craving the touch of his skin. This…is new.

Every other time you’ve been together, you’ve been perfectly content with just sex; he barges through the door, cursing as he slips off his belt, you bend over and gladly give him the stress relief he needs. Sometimes you might share a post-coital sake, or make small talk over dinner before he heads back out on the road. You’ve never wanted to touch him before. Not gently like this.

His throat flexes. "Do you want me to make you come again or not? If so, get your ass back in the air. If not, I'm leaving."

You chuckle, suddenly, somehow finding yourself endeared hopelessly to this man who's about as adept at expressing himself as a rock. "How about… How about we try it face-to-face one time before you go?"

He grimaces. "What the fuck? Why?"

"Because I think you're hot," you say gently coaxing his face back toward you. "And I want to look at you."

You might've missed the twitch of his lips if you weren't so fixated on them. For a moment you think he might smile, but it's quickly replaced by his familiar glower. "No."

"Not even for my birthday?" You say with a slight pout. "Don't you want to look into my eyes while you're fucking me?"

"No." He gets off the bed and stands, putting space between you. A moment later he's collecting his discarded clothes and hurrying to dress.

It's hard not to be offended by his urgency. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to. That's reason enough."

You nod, dropping the subject. As rough as he can be, he's always respected your boundaries, and he deserves no less. "Okay. You're leaving right now?"

"I don't want to look at you. You're just a hole for me to fuck, understand?"

Your lips snap shut at the same time as his, the room seeming to tilt on its axis as his words pierce through you.

That's a new level of shittiness, even for him. A crackle along your spine accompanies your rage, your proverbial hackles raising. But before you can say another word he's gone.

As the days pass by, your anger bubbles away beneath the surface of your skin, a thousand retorts finding their way to your tongue far too late.

But before long, the anger fades giving way to something you could never expect.

Fear.

Fear that he won't be back, that you'll never get to retort. Fear that he's gone.

As much as you need to tell him that he was never anything more than a cock to you, and that there's nothing he could give you that can't be replicated with your own fingers, you need him to be alive to hear it.

But months pass and hope fades. Other slayers come and go; mostly polite, tired, and grateful for your hospitality. You ask about the hashira, trying to be as nonchalant as possible, but you’re met with nothing but disappointment and the occasional fearful gasp at the mention of his name.

Sanemi Shinazagawa seems to have disappeared from the face of the earth.

Until the day a Kakushi arrives, gasping for breath and spattered with blood.

"Fetch a doctor," he commands you from behind his veil. "We're bringing in a wounded hashira. He needs urgent medical attention."

You don't need to be told twice. Your home and your family have long served the corps, the wisteria crest painted on the door letting all demon slayers know they are welcome to shelter, rest, and request whatever they need from you. All slayers. Even the arrogant shitheads.

Your heart pounds as you run through city streets, and down back alleyways where the dawn's light has barely reached.

A hashira. A wounded hashira. In your home. Could it be him?

You both hope and dread it's Sanemi. It's a maelstrom of feeling; a desire to see him, even though you despise him, and although you've seen him bloodied and bruised before, you can't help but fear that this time might be worse. And yet, the thought of him needing you as something other than "a hole to fill" gives you a sort of satisfaction.

As you beat your fists against the doctor's door and wait for him to answer, you try to organize your thoughts. Above all else, you are the mistress of the house, and duty bound to tend to this hashira, whether or not they turn out to be that vile, obnoxious, eyebrowless son of a–

"Ready," the doctor announces, snapping you from your reverie. "Let's go. It sounds like there isn't time to waste."

Confusion furrows your brow until you notice the kasugai crow flying out of the house and after him.

Cold fear pools in the pit of your stomach. Maybe the hashira's condition worsened after they sent you. Maybe they didn't think you'd make it in time to save the wounded slayer.

"Hurry! Hurry!" the crow squawks. "There isn't time to waste."

"This way." You lead the doctor back through familiar paths back to your home , through shortcuts you've known since you were a child.

Your heart races as your home comes into view.

Chapter 2

#kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #sanemi x y/n #sanemi x you #sanemi x reader #sanemi smut #sanemi is bad at feelings #he is such a cutie #i love him

[may-be-rae]

The Arcana Headcanons

Nights with the M6

Asra:

Asra tends to go to bed rather late. He’s not the type to get a full 8 hours, but instead takes a lot of smaller naps through the day. I’d say they’re usually in bed no earlier than 2:00 am.

He does take the time to eat with you and tuck you into bed. He’ll lay with you, kissing your forehead, holding you until you fall asleep. It’s only once your breathing deepens and steadies that he dares to pry himself away from you. He tells Faust to care for you in his absence.

Asra prefers to be awake at these hours because the stars and celestial bodies are something he finds deep inspiration in. His magic is the closest to him in these moments, and he enjoys dwelling in that presence. He’ll sit on the roof and either work on astrological charts or document spells. Sometimes, he’ll just lay there and simply meditate beneath the night sky.

Asra is also a habitual midnight snacker. It’s the time when his appetite kicks up the most. Their favorite is sesame crackers with either cheese or almond butter and preserves.

When Asra does come to bed, he tries not to wake you. He doesn’t wear nightclothes, but simply takes off his shirt and slides under the covers. If the weather is hot, he’ll strip to his undergarments.

They love to watch you sleep. (Yes, it did occur to him that that’s slightly strange, and he had to laugh at himself.) The little sounds and faces you make during dreams amuses them. “Sometimes you look like you’ve bit into a lemon.” He laughed one day.

Once asleep, he’s gone. Very heavy sleeper. They sleep on their stomach while hugging their pillow, and you’ve notice that he’ll smack his lips in his sleep. It’s terribly cute. Often whispers things between dreams and will sleep talk if you engage in his mutterings.

10/10 cutie pie

Nadia:

Nadia has a strict night routine that consists mostly of beauty regimens. It starts with a long bath, then a thorough brushing of her hair, and ends with skin care. She enjoys when you participate as she’s always ready to spoil you.

Afterwards, she goes into her tower for a private meditation. As much as she loves you, she requests to be alone at this time. It’s a time of deep self-reflection. Nadia is not only conscious of her physical health, but also her inner being. She puts on a brave face, but her time with Lucio made her so lost to her own self. Not to mention, she’d been asleep for so long…lost so many memories. You were the catalyst for Nadia to find herself again, but her past is still a heavy burden. The time in her tower is her own promise to to herself to never stop fighting.

When she returns from her tower, she’ll find you. Her mind and heart are tender in this moment, and she wants to be near someone she trusts. She’ll take you to a balcony that overlooks beautiful Vesuvia. The city market lights are just beginning to dim, and the dock is alive with ships mooring for the night. She’ll hold you with her head on your shoulder, sometimes sharing the reflections she had in the tower.

Hand in hand, you both will make your way to bed. She’ll wrap you in the covers before making herself comfortable. Even though she was once married, Nadia isn’t accustomed to sleeping with someone. She’d always avoided staying in a bed too long with Lucio, and when she did, she tried her best to maintain distance. You’ll often startle her with your affections. You go slow so as not to scare her, and soon enough she’ll snuggle into you.

Although Nadia does her best to be in bed by 10:00 pm, she does push that back if your cuddling lasts a little longer than anticipated. 🙃💕

Julian:

Julian does his best to be home by nightfall, but as a doctor, that’s a hard promise to keep. When emergencies arise, his heart is too soft to deny his patients, even if that means sacrificing his own needs and desires.

If he does return on time, his routine is fairly sporadic. He’ll cater it to whatever you’d like to do, whether that’s a night in or some fun at the Raven.

One constant is he takes a long bath before bed regardless of the time he comes home. He’ll sprinkle the water with salts, light incense, and dim the lights to a single candle. He finds this to do wonders for his senses, which tend to be overwound at the end of the day. Sometimes, you’ll overhear him singing Nevivon songs from his childhood.

After his bath, it’s often well past dinner. Since you worry for his health, he’ll take time for a snack. Most often, it’s a slice of rye or pumpernickel with butter.

Afterwards, he’ll read a book until he starts to nod off. Then, he’ll clamber into bed with you and try his best not to wake you with his limbs. He does indulge in a kiss though, usually to your temple or pressed into your hair.

Despite his tiredness, it’s still hard for him to fall asleep, but with you near, his thought are so much kinder. He’ll think of his day and the changes in his life. While there’s much less adventure…much less drama…his heart has always longed for stillness, for a place that he didn’t have to leave.

He’s a very happy man.

Portia:

Portia’s evening are much calmer than her mornings. After a long day at work, she comes home drained. And while her energy levels are still unmatched, they’re drastically lowered by Portia’s standards.

Despite her schedule, she’s much more faithful about coming home on time. Nadia is also insistent that her greatest assistant and confidant has a life outside of the Palace. She ensures Portia’s schedule is never overbearing.

When Portia returns, she greets everyone in a healthy round of hugs and kisses. There’s no point in trying to escape her suffocating affections. She swaddles you in a blanket and tackles you to the couch, nuzzling into your neck to plant tickling kisses.

After, the two of you will stroll through her gardens and pick any ripened produce. You’ll talk about each others day and laugh as Pepi chases butterflies.

By now, you can see the weariness on Portia’s features. She still insists on cooking since it’s something she enjoys, so you do your best to wash dishes as she goes to make clean up easier.

Once dinner is done, she drags you into the bath with her. You’ll help wash her long curls, and she’ll nestle into your arms. Over time, you’ll feel her breath become heavy and slow. You know it’s time to get your love into bed.

Muriel:

Muriel retires to bed early due to his early rise with the chickens. After dinner, you two will clean up the hut as he prefers to awaken to a clean space. Then, he’ll venture out to bathe and collect water for tomorrow. He enjoys it when you decide to join him.

There is a local waterfall deep in the woods that he bathes in. He brings his own homemade eucalyptus and rose soap. It’s a stark but lovely contrast to the usual myrrh.

Back home, you’ll sometimes offer to braid his hair. Since it’s coarser, he like to use a bit of rosemary oil. At first, this practice sent tension throughout his body, but in time he’s relaxed into you. It’s not uncommon to catch him dozing off in your lap. He’ll also offer to do your hair or give you a massage.

Afterwards, it’s very much time for bed. Muriel sleeps on the edge of the bed, so that you and Innana are safe to snuggle into him.

For some reason, he’s much bolder in his affections at this time. He loves the softness of you, loves tracing the gentle curves around your face. It’s so different from the contours he sees in himself. Again, at first, this made him horribly nervous. Would his callouses scratch you? Would he pull your hair too hard? But in time, it actually helped him be more comfortable and attune to his strength.

He realizes that he can be soft, too.

Lucio:

Lucio’s energy tends to manifest itself the most once the sun goes down. Want to visit Prakra? Let’s load up the horses. Craving another pumpkin bread? I’m sure Selasi won’t mind! You’ll have to somewhat force him into a night routine if you ever expect to get this man to stop.

You’ve noticed food is key to getting him to wind down. A nice hot meal that sits in his belly and weights his eyelids. Usually, it’s in the form of stew with fresh bread and dessert (he has an undeniable sweet tooth). While he’s balked that’s he can provide you much better cuisine from world class chefs, he secretly loves when you cook for him and you know how to satisfy his picky palate.

After dinner, he’s noticeably more docile. He’ll hold out his arms and ask for you to sit in his lap by the fire. He’ll nuzzle into you and chuckle when you play with his hair. It’s not uncommon for you to fall asleep in his arms.

Afterwards, he’ll carry you to bed. The two will help each other dress for the night and curl into the sheets. He appreciates it when you take his golden arm off for him. The glove’s purpose was to hide from his insecurities. When he takes it off, it’s a harsh reminder of how he really sees himself. You are so much kinder towards him than he is to himself.

#the arcana #the arcana headcanons #asra the arcana #asra alzanar #julian the arcana #julian devorak #ilya devorak #nadia the arcana #nadia satrinava #portia the arcana #portia devorak #muriel the arcana #muriel of the kokhuri #lucio the arcana #lucio morgasson

[thebestofoneshots]

✩ Star

hey luvv!! can i please request a romantic matchup for marauders era :) ? you don't have to rush it, take your time in writing! 🪽💕🌸🤍

i'm a capricorn, infp, and an asexual sapphic. though i don't mind being matched up with a man because i'm sapphic and not lesbian :) maybe you can match me both with a girl and a boy hehehh

i'm 173 cm, i have brown long hair (with bangs) and brown eyes. i love doing skincare/just taking care of my body. i love the colour pink! i'm quite girly and feminine. my clothing style is basically this fashion brand called ozlana. i love wearing pearl jewelleries. i feel prettiest when i do my hair well. i also love barbie fashion! i'd love to be a fashion designer and have my own fashion boutique one day.

i'm a good listener and i can understand people well. i consider myself as open minded. i'm a huge feminist (gender equality and really just social equality in general 🫶) and i resent people that makes fun of others for being excited over something they love. i love reading (preferably english classics). i love the wizard of oz a lot. i would love someone who respects women and a gentleman.

i consider myself as quite smart :) (don't wanna be too self indulgent tho). my hobbies are reading, stargazing, and making dresses/clothing. i love plants and flowers <3 i also love fruits! my favs are strawberry, grapes, and blueberry. i enjoy baking too! love making french desserts recipes. i'm scared of being a failure. my biggest fear actually. so i tend to push myself as hard as i can to ace what i want.

i think that's all!! don't wanna make this too long. if you don't want to write this then i totally understand 🌸🤍💕🪽🫧

If you want to participate in "TBOS' 400 Followers Celebration" too, you can look at this post for all the options of prompts you can choose form &lt;3

☆ Star: send a short description of yourself and I’ll tell you who I ship you with!

Chasing Butterflies

Pairing: James x Lily x reader Prompt: The story of how you ended up dating James and Lily. Word count: 1.5 k Warnings: None, (bit angsty / what feels like unrequited love but actually isn't).

Hey beatiful! I ship you with Lily and James! The first time you saw Lily, you thought she was the prettiest girl you’d seen in the world. She was wearing this beautiful flowery pink dress and looked so in awe of everything around her that you couldn't help but stare. Having been born into a magical family, it was interesting to see it from a different perspective. You were just about to approach her when she said hi to a disagreeable-looking boy that stared down at you as you took a step forward, which deterred you from doing so. Instead, you scurried away inside the train. That’s where you met James Potter and Peter Petegrew.

James was a very well-spoken boy who saw you wandering the train by yourself and invited you to sit along with him and his friend. He had been the one to introduce you to Peter and had also bought a bunch of treats for everyone once the Trolley Witch came around. James had been so nice to you that day that you felt like a princess. When both of you were put in the same house, you became close. James was always really, really nice to you, and you liked that about him, especially compared to the way his friends treated you - Sirius always trying to flirt and Peter being so awkward all the time. You also became close with Remus, and he would lend some of his muggle books, and you would borrow some magical ones to him. It became a habit, and Sirius would call you both nerds for it. You didn’t mind it all that much; you knew it was all playful banter.

In 5th year, when you discovered your passion for making clothes, the first person you told was Lily. You politely asked her if you could design a dress for her, and she felt honored. Once you handed her the dress, she instantly put it on, and it fit her like a glove. That weekend, when you went to Hogsmeade, she wore the dress, and even though you thought she looked absolutely lovely, you couldn’t help but feel a pit in your stomach whenever you realized people were staring at her. It was as if you didn’t want them to look, and their staring was affecting you somehow.

“That sounds an awful lot like jealousy to me,” Remus had told you. You gasped in that moment, but the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Maybe you didn’t just like Lily as a friend. Maybe you liked, like her. Romantically liked her. And it made you feel miserable because you were very aware, like pretty much the entire school, that James was absolutely hung up on her.

At Marlenes’s party, organized by Mary a year later, someone had the brilliant idea of playing spin the bottle. When Lily had to kiss Marlene, she didn’t budge, which made you both jealous but also a little curious. Could that mean Lily was interested in girls too?

You, in turn, had to kiss James, and even if he was your friend, you had to admit he was a really good kisser. You were both panting a little when you separated and awkwardly went back to your places in the circle. From that day on, James stuck to you like gum, following you around and carrying your books and bag a lot more often than he did before. And even if you appreciated how nice he was, making you feel like a princess again, you were also bothered because you felt like you were his second choice, his consolation prize after he gave up on chasing after Lily.

“I’m not a pity prize, James!” You told him one day as he tried to hold your hand.

He looked at you, hurt in his face. “I’d never see you as one, kitten. I thought you knew.”

You looked at him taken aback. “What about Lily?”

He averted your gaze. “She… She’s like a star. Unreachable.”

“And I am within reach, right?” You continued, a little angry still.

“That’s not what I…”

“James, I like her too!” You somehow blurted out.

He looked at you in shock, eyes wide open as you told him the truth. “You like–" he started, confused "–like I do?”

You looked to the side and nodded. “Yes! Like you do.”

“And you don’t like boys like that?”

“I… I wouldn’t say that either…”

“Then what’s the issue?” He said, reaching for your hand again. You stared at him with a frown, thinking of pulling your hand away. But his hand was warm, and just as James always did, it made you feel nice too.

Both you and James started to spend a lot more time together since then. People would find him sitting beside you at dinner and in some classes. He made sure to always keep some kind of contact with you, whether it was holding your hand, having his arm over your shoulder, or a hand on your waist. You actually grew to like it; you felt appreciated and loved. Maybe you really weren’t a second choice to him, maybe he really had chosen you over Lily.

But then it was Halloween, and somehow you convinced him to dress as Ken while you'd dress up as Barbie. You designed both of your outfits, and he even hung out with you while you were sewing and adding beads and glitter to both of your costumes. Even Peter was helping you with the costumes, since you’d promised to help him with his. You were all sitting in the common room, and you were on the floor, sitting between James’ legs and resting your head on his chest as you sewed some details onto a coat when Lily walked in.

You smiled and waved at her, but she just looked at the two of you, looking hurt, and stormed out. “What’s with her?” Peter asked with a shrug. You and James looked at each other with a frown and nodded, both getting up and chasing after her.

“Lily!” You shouted as she picked up the pace.

“I’ll take a short cut,” James told you. “We’ll intercept her.”

Soon enough, James was blocking Lily from the front, and you stopped her from behind. “Hey! Lils, stop running, will you?” You told her, breath a little ragged, as she tried to walk past you. Her eyes started to water, and you looked at her concerned, placing both hands on her shoulders. “Hey love, what’s wrong?” You asked.

She started to cry then, and your heart broke. Whatever you had done, you were sure to never ever do it again; you could not bear to see her cry. James looked as mortified as you did.

“Evans,” he said, not daring to place a hand on her, like you already had. “What’s wrong, darling?” He asked softly.

“I… I don’t know… I…” She started between sobs. “I just, I suddenly felt so angry at the two of you being together like that. I just… I didn’t…. I’m an asshole.” She said as she placed her hands over her face to hide it from the two of you.

Realization hit you like a truck. “You like James,” you said dryly. James looked shocked at the two of you. “You’re jealous.” You said with a bitter laugh. “I’ll leave you to talk,” you said as you started to leave.

Lily finally raised her head from her hand and shook her head, you couldn't be more wrong. She grabbed your arm. "I wasn't jealous of you!" You turned surprised. "I wanted to be James!" You looked at the two of them, shocked. James looked so confused in that moment; if it hadn't been for the situation, you would've loved to capture that expression in a picture. "Or rather, there, like… in between the two."

You looked at her even more shocked. "Does that mean you like… both me and–"

"–Me?" James finished.

Lily just looked at the two of you in desperation. "See? I AM an asshole!"

You shook your head and exchanged a glance with James. He nodded, and the two of you embraced Lily in a tight hug. You buried your head on Lily’s shoulder, relishing in the smell of her signature lavender perfume, while James wrapped his long arms around the two of you, drawing you both towards his chest. From that moment on, the three of you somehow started dating each other. Lily was the perfect companion; she understood and related to all of your girly needs, gifting you a pearl necklace on your birthday and wearing all the dresses you made for her. James always cared for the two of you like you were goddesses, giving you the best cuddles in the world and enjoying all the desserts you prepared for him. He was absolutely obsessed with the way you baked. You were so happy together; you almost couldn’t believe it was real. But it was, and it was beautiful.

A/N: Hey sweetie! I really hope you enjoy this little ship (it totally got out hand and ended up being a mini ficlet, but I hope you like it); also I really hope all the cuddling doesn't bother you &lt;3

Much Love, Lilly xx

#imagine #one shot #oneshot #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x reader #James Potter x Lilly evans x you #jily x you #jily fic #jily microfic #poly!marauders imagine #poly marauders #poly!marauders x you #ploy!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #lily evans #lily evans x reader #lily evans x you #lily evans x y/n #lily evans x james potter #wizarding world #the marauders x y/n #the marauders x you #the marauders x reader #the marauders era #the marauders fandom #the marauders fanfiction

[dolceaspidenera]

Vesuvia Weekly: Apprentice and LI Dynamics

Decided to throw my hat in since I came up with so much material in my head about my apprentice, Venere, and then realized I never posted anything, poor girl has been sitting on the bench for so long like “Am I a joke to you?” 

@iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia Thank you for coming up with these prompts, I had fun doing this!

(I also mixed a bit of poetry in these hcs because I love it so much. Unfortunately, I suck at it, so don't mind too much of what I call my wordy farts)

VENERE x JULIAN – In a nutshell? The overly flirty, bisexual disaster that we all know meets a very practical and unimpressed girl (also, tall lanky man x small menace). What could go wrong?

A whirlwind. She’s swept away by it. Masks and play, it’s easier that way.  A feverish dance, a push and pull, like sea waves.  Backtracking, pacing, restlessness. The mind never stops and thinks and thinks and thinks. Where do you see value? You should leave but you are under my skin. Chasing shadows, facing gallows He can only be a martyr, the guilt takes its toll as the bell tolls  The rope is made of faults and the executioner is called love.  Now there are more hurts, and another love turns into flaming anger. How can she make him see? Gentleness, understanding, calm. We are in this together. Always.

Julian enters her life like a hurricane and turns it upside down. She is swept off her feet by his energy, but she is also sharp enough to see through him. 

They have a rocky start. Julian is kind of intimidated, kind of intrigued, obviously his answer is to double down on the flirting.

Venere is… You guessed it: unimpressed. Don’t be fooled though, she is actually quite charmed, she likes Julian, but she needs her time to feel comfortable around new people. In the meantime, she has one of the biggest resting bitch faces ever.

Most of their early interactions involve Julian aggressively flirting and Venere blushing internally while exteriorly maintaining a deadpan expression.

Julian inevitably starts to question everything; does she find him so ugly? Does she find him annoying? Should he hide in the hole and never come up again? The poor man doesn’t know what to do.

Once they clear the air and Venere feels more comfortable, is when her true character starts to shine. She is passionate and has a fiery temper, which is good most of the time, but also means she tends to react with anger to upsetting situations. Julian is much better and practiced at controlling his anger and is a good counterweight to Venere.

This is also when the table turns and Venere starts shamelessly flirting with Julian. The poor doctor is a blushing mess.

She is ready to give him an earful whenever he is acting foolish, and she is not afraid of calling him out on his bullshit, but she also learns to be very patient with him. She is determined to make him understand that he is loved, and she is always there to remind him of what an incredible, beautiful man he is.

He teases her about her magic jargon, calling it her whimsical gibberish, she teases him for his medical fancy terms and most of all his unreadable writing. 

When it comes to their respective work fields, they had to learn to communicate effectively; Julian is more comfortable with tangible and concrete things, while Venere tends to think in more abstract ways. Over time they learned to come together and communicate clearly.

They are actually a very good team. Venere is trying to implement Julian’s extensive knowledge of medicine with her magic, making medicines more effective and trying to come up with spells that can accelerate the healing process.

She is much more introverted than him, so she is always happy to let him handle social situations and let her full glorious resting bitch face shine while he charms his way out.

Their differences in social battery also mean that Venere needs her moments of solitude to recharge. The first few times it happened Julian panicked; was it something he said? After a much-needed conversation, he understands. Now, when she needs time alone, he goes to the Rowdy Raven or stops by to see Portia and Mazelinka.

Venere loves singing and dancing and Julian often accompanies her with his vielle. There's always music in their home.

After a period of travel, they settle down in Vesuvia and adopt a dog. Venere takes over her magic shop and Julian opens his clinic.

Their favourite moment is in the evening when, after a day of work, it’s finally time for a long, relaxing cuddle session. Julian wraps his arms around Venere and gives her one of his all-encompassing hugs and they snuggle on the sofa. They always say they’ll go to bed early but end up falling asleep like this.

RELATIONSHIP WITH OTHER CHARACTERS:

ASRA 

Complicated. Abandonment. Hurt. Mistakes. Easier to run, easier to avoid. She doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know how to explain.  The past is a heavy burden of memories forgotten and others that would have been best to let rest.  Only a half of what once was whole, but what has been broken cannot be repaired, you learn to live with what remains. You learn to live again.

Her relationship with Asra is very complicated.

There were a lot of hurt and misunderstandings. He kept disappearing without explanation and she never understood.

But the truth runs way, way deeper.

After everything is out in the open, they have many conversations.

After clearing up everything they share one of those incredibly rare and deep friendships.

They are family. They will always be there for each other and always root for each other happiness.

NADIA 

Loneliness. The princess is trapped at the top of the tower, but the dragon is in her head, the dragon is everywhere around her. Judging eyes, power struggles, impossible expectations, who can you trust? Elegance, perfectionism, strength, intuition. She is many things, but most of all she is Nadia. Most of all, she needs someone to see it.

Nadia is… Well, she is Nadia! She is awesome!

Venere’s first impression was of someone very lonely. Although a bit intimidated, she took a liking to her very quickly.

In time, they cultivate a very profound friendship.

They chat about magic, and Venere always knows who to ask for fashion tips. 

Most of all she knows who to turn to when she needs sound advice.

She has deep admiration for Nadia, she doesn’t know how someone can always look so perfect and in control and make appear so easy everything she does. But she is also there to remind Nadia that it’s okay to slip occasionally, and letting go sometimes feels good!

MURIEL 

Gentle, coy, reserved. Violent scars on a delicate soul. Does a tree make noise when it falls in the forest? It’s easier to forget but if everyone forgets, were you even ever there? Long silences can become deafening in loneliness. And yet, when you start to listen you realize there is so much more life around you. Small details you usually don’t catch. It’s always in the details.

Muriel and Venere have one of those friendships that don’t require many words. They are content to spend time together, enjoying each other company in a relaxed silence.

When Venere needs some reprieve, she knows she can accompany Muriel on his walks around the forest and she loves being immersed in nature.

Venere adores Inanna, she gives the best belly rubs to the best of girls.

They spend time enjoying the quiet of Muriel’s hut and he allows her to feed the chickens! One of Venere’s favourite activities.

If someone bothers Muriel, despite Venere being much, much smaller than him, she is the one to fly into a rage and put the offender in their place. Has anyone never told them not to provoke a magician?

Venere often comes to visit him and brings him lots of baked goods to taste. She is still learning to cook decently, so not everything comes out exactly as intended. He still eats everything without batting an eye, probably to be polite.

PORTIA 

Bubbly energy. Movement, flow, a tidal wave. Hunger for adventure, but she is always left behind. There is worth in the work you do but sometimes the work becomes all you are worth. There is more under the surface, you are allowed to slow down. You always have value.

Portia is Venere’s adopted little sister. She loves her energy and positivity and is always happy to pass the ball when Julian needs a good kick in the shin.

They have a book club now. They take it very seriously and religiously make time each week to sit down together to discuss stories and characters.

To the delight of Julian, Venere teaches her magic. He has a small panic attack when she accidentally sets a tree on fire. Luckily, Portia is an eager student and recovers very quickly without further fiery incidents.

In return, Portia tries to teach Venere to bake, with varying degrees of success. She is trying, okay? Luckily, most of her culinary experiments are still appreciated by Julian, Asra and Muriel.

When Portia feels like going on an adventure, she always knows who to call for. 

LUCIO 

Cold metal spikes all around. Hurt others before they can hurt him. Mistakes, regrets, there’s much to learn. Pride is always the mask shame wears, covering itself with sparkly meaningless. 

Let’s say that she doesn’t take well of Lucio hurting her loved ones. When she discovers what he did to Julian she is furious.

In an alternative universe, she would be more than happy to be his friend. She believes in second chances and respects his willingness to be better.

Lucio ends up relying a lot on her when he makes an “Opsie” and needs someone to help him fix it.

With time, he gets better at handling his mistakes and learns how powerful accountability can be.

She isn’t one for big parties, but the rare times she needs some tips on the subject she can always count on Lucio.

When she needs to let out some steam, she knows he is the guy to go to. He has always a good monster on the list ready to chase, or some other adventure to go, Portia can come too!

#Definitely not my highest writing moment but I had fun and that's the point - no? #vesuvia weekly #MC/LI dynamics #the arcana #the arcana game #julian devorak #ilya devorak #asra alnazar #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson #OC: Venere #the arcana headcanons #my wordy farts #my writing

[capricioussun]

As always thinking lots abt uf but still on a little bit of a swap kick so I wanted to add a little more context for what I'd mentioned in the Stretch post abt his relationship w/ Blue

So, as per my usual baseline, the royal scientist made Sans first, and then Papyrus. Almost exactly the same. Sans came out well (alive), but unfortunately very frail with slightly unstable magic. Instead of pushing it too much (and what leads to how unswapped Sanses typically gaining the judgement ability), that focus shifted gears to Papyrus, as the corrections made "in utero" (very early days of test tube life) proved sufficient, providing a much more stable and sturdy test subject.

Hence, those experiments were then performed on Papyrus, while a much slower and more thought out approach was taken with Sans. Both became very healthy as they grew, gaining tremendous control over their magic and Papyrus seemingly following in his brother's footsteps of being an absolute powerhouse.

At the time, and even after they left the labs, Blue wasn't fully aware of the extent of experiments done on Stretch. Similar to classic Sans, Blue was incredibly smart from an early age, and took it upon himself to be his brother's caretaker and teacher after [REDACTED], but being a couple of homeless kids didn't exactly make that super easy in the beginning.

Still, with the help of a few kind strangers turned new friends, they slowly got back on their feet...and of course, that was when Stretch began presenting and complaining of strange and worrying symptoms.

Blue and Stretch were always very close from an early age, very similar to the Tale brothers. The prime difference was that Blue had significantly more energy and drive than Sans, which made him a better role model and caretaker to Stretch, and so Stretch never felt that pressure to grow up faster to be the caretaker of his brother the way Rus and Edge did.

So when things changed, and Stretch became more dependent on Blue rather than less, like most other kids going into teendom, even though Blue never really outwardly faltered and did his best to help Stretch through everything, there was a crack in the foundation.

Blue, being a caretaker, teacher, and older brother (along with the standard trait of tending towards secrecy), had that pressure to always be more okay than he actually felt. He had to remain strong for Papyrus, doubly so after he got sick. He couldn't slow down or show weakness or do anything that might make Stretch feel like a burden or a tax on him.

Especially not after Stretch had tried explaining symptoms of the judging ability, and the obvious toll that was starting to take on his mental health. Blue was really all Stretch had, and as Stretch's HP slowly ticked away with every downswing, and never ticked back up, he was terrified of how increasingly susceptible his brother was to Falling Down.

I need to clarify and emphasize that Blue was only around 13-15 when this all started, and 17-20 at its peak. He'd been the primary parent figure to his 5 year younger brother since around the time he was 10, so Blue's entirely life pretty much revolved around taking care of Stretch for his entire childhood. It stands to reason the thought of him Falling being beyond Blue's control was one of his biggest nightmares, because even though others didn't alienate him the way they did Stretch, Stretch was the only person who he really felt a strong connection to, especially after everything they went through together as kids.

They knew things about each other they probably couldn't ever tell anyone else, and Blue had been Stretch's only real family since the day he was "born". Watching Stretch decline over his teen years was a special form a torture that he couldn't ever let Stretch know he was going through. He couldn't put that on him.

That didn't stop Stretch from being able to tell though. Brotherly intuition, knowing each other so well, and of course, the judge, the worst his health became, the more stressed Blue became, and the deeper that sinking pit in Stretch's soul sunk knowing he was the cause of it all.

That's why I'd mentioned Blue's joining the guard being the last straw. He joined when he was around 21, because it paid better than the most of the other meager jobs he’d been spreading himself way too thin to work keeping them afloat, which meant more time to take care of Papyrus.

The thought of his incredibly non-confrontational brother forcing himself into a position where he might have to kill capture a human, deal with rowdy drunks stumbling out of Muffet's at all hours, as well as regularly spar with the captain sent Stretch into a very intense guilt and resentment spiral.

Over the years, the more Blue worried the more Stretch tried to hide from him, but now this tipped the scales and Stretch became determined to do whatever it took to become less useless.

(Another aside, Toriel did not know how young Papyrus was when she offered him the Judge position, as the brothers routinely lied about their ages since they'd had to take care of themselves from such a young age. She suspects they're younger than they say certainly, but she didn't realize he was only 15 ish at the time).

The more Stretch pushed himself, the more practice he got, the better he was at lying and keeping up appearances. And now Blue's own schtick was biting him on the tailbone because even though he worried frequently that Stretch was pushing himself too hard (especially after learning he'd accepted the job from Toriel to act as the Judge), all he could do was try his best to be supportive and encouraging, lest Stretch realize just how stressed out and exhausted he really was all the time.

So, basically, both brothers know the other isn't okay, but they won't talk about it ever because Blue is stubborn as hell and Stretch learned from the best. And by that point, Stretch was becoming a young adult, he could certainly make decisions for himself, right?

Just like the vast majority of my skelebros, they locked themselves into this broken carousel dynamic of always interlocking, never actually meeting, and continuously dancing around the gaping hole in the middle of the room because they both know, if one falls in, the other with dive to catch him, and they may both very well be damned if they take that chance. (They're dumb but also this is what happens when incredibly smart children are forced to raise themselves. They have no idea how to function healthily, only to the best of their ability #sigh #childhoodtraumamoment)

Oh, and one more thing. I would like to add that part of the reason Stretch is so hard on himself is because, back during training at the labs, he was constantly compared to Blue, who exceeded at everything. He was scolded and reprimanded for falling short, and it was rarely ever accounted for that he was five years younger than Blue. This made Stretch feel inferior and frequently doubt his own ability, and gave Blue a strong resentment of [REDACTED], along with a fierce protective streak of Stretch.

Unfortunately the years of trying to unteach Stretch those mindsets were mostly undone by the damage the judge and health issues did (they just proved him right, he really was just a useless failure...)

#hi yeah I'm still on this sorry I think it's out of my system now...maybe #damn being a sickly orphan child really fucks u up rip Stretch fr ✌️ #underswap #us stretch #us blue #underswap papyrus #underswap sans #sun spots

[shivunin]

The Small Hours

(Maria Hawke/Fenris | 1496 words | No warnings)

They’d started the evening with a book.

Fenris was managing the experience of reading better now than he had at first, even if he was still slow enough to make him self-conscious with anyone but Hawke. In truth, he didn’t need as much help as she thought he did—they’d been working at it for several months now, and he read often when he was alone—but he kept coming back to her manor for informal lessons anyway. There was a quiet warmth to these evenings that had taken him by surprise, and he could not seem to let it go just yet. 

So—tonight, they’d begun by reading. It was something relatively inconsequential—a collection of limericks, easy and fast to read. Fenris suspected Hawke just liked to hear him say things like “hullaballoo” or “festooned.” Her frequent, poorly hidden snickers did not relieve him of this suspicion, but Fenris found he could not mind the sound of her laughter. 

In fact, he’d enjoyed it so much that he’d read through the entire volume, and then he’d been loath to leave. Her library was pleasantly insulated from the noise of the street or the rest of the manor, and the fire crackling in the hearth was a cheerful counterpoint to the whistle of the wind outside. Fenris was comfortable in a cushion on the floor, leaning back against her bookshelves while Hawke sprawled on her couch. It seemed a shame to end things so soon, though he had no excuse to stay. So—he’d set the book aside when he finished the last poem and asked her a question instead of taking his leave. 

“What was it like,” he asked, “to grow up in Lothering?” 

“Hmm,” Hawke said. 

She peered up at the ceiling for a moment, the pause long enough to make him wonder if he shouldn’t have asked, if the memories were perhaps too painful. Eventually, she turned to look at him again and smiled. 

“When I was little,” she said, “It seemed the finest place in the world. We had to stay away from anywhere too close to a city or large groups of templars, of course, because of…well. But the farm seemed like its own world; we didn’t spend much time in town until we were a bit older and could keep our magic to ourselves.”

She paused and winced, then went on. 

“Well—mostly to ourselves. There was this awful boy—”

Fenris snorted and she pushed herself higher on the cushions.

“Don’t laugh!” she said, smiling despite the words, “There was this awful boy who would always knock Carver down and pull Beth’s braids and he was so mean and I just couldn’t stand him. One time he was standing somewhat close to a fire beneath a stewpot and I—”

“Hawke,” Fenris said, but she held up a hand.

“I didn’t hurt him! But I did burn out the bottom of his market basket. Eggs and fruit all over the place, the brat. He deserved it. And his mother accompanied him to the market for weeks after, so he didn’t have a chance to be cruel again until after Carver and Beth learned to throw a punch.”

Fenris shook his head, failing to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“But that wasn’t your question,” she said, shaking her head ruefully. 

Reclining on the couch had left one side of her hair a mess, the curls bunched up in places and tangled in others. Fenris tried to put a name to the thing he felt upon seeing it, but he could not. It was—this was—intimate, in a way he could not seem to wrap his hands around to comprehend properly.

“It was quiet,” she went on, apparently oblivious to his stare, “We tended the farm and the livestock, always working, up before dawn every day. It was easier when the twins…when the twins were older. We could handle the load a little better. But sometimes, after harvest and before planting came, it felt like I had the whole world to run through. The sun in my hair and the warm earth between my toes—it was always a fight to get shoes on me back then.”

She was smiling again, soft and fond, her eyes fixed somewhere in the corner and somewhere farther away entirely. Fenris could not have made himself look away from the light in her face even if he’d wanted to. He wondered what it would be like to trace the lines and shapes of her expression with his fingertips; he wondered, too, what she would look like, carefree in the sunlight with the wind in her hair. 

He wondered what it would be like to remember one’s childhood. 

“I seem to recall you barefoot here more than once,” Fenris said, to push the last thought away, and Hawke’s eyes found his again. 

“Yes,” she said, wrinkling her nose, “Have you felt formal shoes before? Goodness. I can’t blame you for never wearing any at all. Sometimes I’d like to try it for myself.”

“Why don’t you?” Fenris asked. 

Hawke edged a little lower on the couch and lifted a foot, which was, in fact, bare at the moment. She wiggled her toes for a moment, then shrugged. 

“What if I step on something sharp?” 

“I would recommend not stepping on something sharp,” Fenris agreed gravely. Hawke tipped back her head and laughed. 

“Don’t you ever?”

“Occasionally,” he said, and shrugged, “Perhaps I am used to it.”

“Perhaps,” she said, and tucked her feet into the cushions again, “Well—maybe you can try fancy shoes one day, and I can try leggings.”

“Somehow,” Fenris said drily, resting his elbow on his knee and allowing the hand to dangle loose, “I think you are getting the better end of the bargain.”

“Maybe so,” Hawke laughed, snuggling deeper into the cushions and tucking an arm under her head, “Did I answer your question? I can’t remember.”

“You did,” Fenris said, but—he wasn’t ready to stop talking yet. He cleared his throat and added:

“What became of the awful boy? The one you set aflame?” 

He chose his words on purpose, and her reaction did not disappoint. Hawke’s mouth dropped open and she pressed a hand to her chest in outrage. 

“I did not ‘set him aflame,’” she said, frowning at him, “The nerve!”

Fenris kept his laugh to himself, but he couldn’t resist the smile that crept up either side of his face. Hawke reached behind her, retrieved a small, circular pillow, and threw it at his head. Fenris caught it easily, laughing in earnest now despite himself. She went on, describing the boy’s fate—an apprenticeship in the city—and Fenris went on asking her questions great and small, unwilling to let the evening go. Her voice became heavy as the hours rolled by, and her eyelids opened more and more slowly, until at last she trailed off mid-sentence and did not finish her story. 

“Hawke?” Fenris murmured. 

He was tired, too; he was not certain of the hour, but he must have been awake nearly a full day by now. Sleep had not been kind to him the night before. Even so, he resisted the siren call of rest and looked at her instead. Her lips were parted, and her chest rose and fell in a soft and even rhythm. Some of her hair had fallen over her forehead, the tendrils dark against her brown skin. She lay on one arm, but the other hand rested on the cushion beside her elbow, the fingers loose and relaxed. 

This was dangerous. He’d known as much for months, but the sight of her like this—one did not let down one’s guard like this unless trust was complete, or close enough to it that the distinction was insignificant. That horrible voice in the back of his mind whispered that she should be more wary, that he could have her beating heart in his hand in an instant and she would be able to do nothing to stop him. 

Fenris rose on silent feet, took the blanket from a chair beside the fire, and approached. Hawke did not rouse when he carefully draped the soft red fabric over her, covering her from feet to shoulders. Her breath remained regular even when he lifted and tucked aside a loose lock of hair that would surely brush against her nose. 

“Goodnight, Hawke,” Fenris said, so quietly he almost couldn't hear it, and turned for the door. 

Perhaps a day would come when he might rouse her from her sleep and help her to bed instead. Perhaps there would be other nights when he could speak with her well into the small hours of morning, when he would feel as safe in her home as she did, when he might fall asleep without concern for safety or attack. 

Perhaps it was not such a foolish thing at all, to want to stay in the warmth of her company.

“Perhaps,” Fenris murmured to himself as he retrieved his sword at the door, and let himself out into the night.

(Written for the prompt "talking late into the night" for @jtownnn ; thanks again for the prompt!! c:)

#maria hawke #fenris #fenris dragon age #fenhawke #fenris x hawke #f!hawke #da2 #da fanfic #my writing #fluff #i am weak for 'one part of the relationship could absolutely kill the other one but shows them tenderness instead' #it's flipped for my arianwen and listen #the trope is just catnip for me #shivunin scrivening

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

First Time for Everything

Summary: Y/N has waited a long time for her first kiss, has she just been waiting for Dean all this time?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Not much. Kissing. Some dirty thoughts and a burgeoning thigh riding kink, but mostly all fluff. Bit of show level violence. 

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 2,164

A/N: So, I’ve decided to do all 30 of these writing prompts. I may miss a day here and there, but I’m going to try to do one a day, and I will be completing all 30 no matter what.  They won’t always be in order.  But I did start with the first one on the list: Write about a first kiss.

Hope you enjoy! I will be putting together a Masterlist for all 30 prompts and adding it to my main Masterlist.

Both beautiful text dividers, both below and at the bottom, were created by @talesmaniac89.

Y/N stared at the head that rolled a little further away from her as a strong wind kicked up.  The face was still handsome, even if it was a bit waxy looking now.

She felt Dean walk up beside her, but didn’t turn to him.  It was too mortifying. Her first date in many, many months, the date Dean had teased her about mercilessly, the guy he’d called Tad even though his name was Ethan because, as Dean put it, he looked like a douchebag frat boy, the guy she’d said yes to even though she tended to agree with Dean’s assessment...had been a vamp, and if it wasn’t for Dean coming to her rescue, her throat would have been ripped out for sure.

The two of them stood there in silence for a few minutes just staring at the downed body and severed head.  Finally Dean cleared his throat and spoke a little awkwardly.  

“You okay?”

Y/N sighed.  “Peachy.” She said, borrowing one of Dean’s expressions.  She could tell he was about to try for more conversation, so she just rolled up her sleeves and walked toward the Impala to pull out the tarp she knew would be in the trunk. 

“Let’s just clean him up.”

They worked together silently to get the body and head into the trunk so they could take it somewhere far away from this secluded parking lot and burn it.

Y/N slammed the trunk and leaned back against it, pushing her hands into her pockets. Dean copied her posture, but folded his arms across his chest. After a second he spoke.

“Seriously, kid, you okay?”

Y/N shook her head.  “I mean...I guess.  It was only our first date, so it wasn’t like I was expecting a marriage proposal or anything, but - I definitely didn’t think there would be a beheading.” She paused for a beat. “At least, not before the second date.”

She dropped her chin to her chest. “Man, do I know how to pick ‘em!”

Dean bumped her with his shoulder. “Hey, you couldn’t have known.”

She tilted her head back and looked up at the stars.  “How do you do it?” She asked quietly. 

He looked at her quizzically.  “Do what?”

“Live -” she cut herself off to swallow hard against the tears she felt forming. When she had control, she started again.  “Live in this world, knowing every new person you meet could be something evil, that there might be a monster lurking around every corner.”

She looked at Dean, waiting for his answer, hoping it would be some piece of magical advice to get her through this new life she’d been living for just over a year. 

But he just shook his head.  “I don’t know, kid.  It’s just...always been my life.  I don’t know anything else.”

That made Y/N want to cry all over again, so she didn’t respond.  She just hugged her arms around her middle trying to ward off the late night chill. 

Dean pulled his jacket off and dropped it around her shoulders.

“Thank you.” She said shyly, trying not to lean into the collar and sniff.  God, he always smelled so good.  She pulled the lapels of the jacket tight around her and gave thanks for Dean’s warmth that lingered in the creases of the denim jacket.  

As she snuggled further into the jacket a thought occurred to her and she turned a puzzled expression towards Dean.

“Hey...um...how did you know to come?”

“Hmm?” Dean questioned.

“Well, I didn’t tell you where we were going, so how did you know we were going to be here?  How did you know to just show up here?”

“Oh, uh...” Dean’s face showed a slight panic.  “Uh, I was...it was just hunter’s intuition, I guess.”

Y/N shook her head in disbelief.  “Wow.  For someone who regularly has to lie in his job, you are a terrible liar.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Were you following me?” Y/N asked, trying to decide if she was offended or not.

“What?” Dean asked, his tone far too offended.  “Of course not.”

Y/N scoffed.

“I wasn’t following you!” Dean insisted.  “I was following him!”

“What? Why?” 

“Cause he was a douche!” Dean said angrily.  “And he was...handsy!”

“Handsy?”  Y/N asked, her normally smooth brow creased in confusion.

“Yes!” Dean said loudly. “When you introduced us, I watched him and he couldn’t keep his fucking hands off you the whole time.”

Y/N scanned her memory.  “Dean you talked with him for like ten minutes, and he had his hand on my waist.”

Dean threw his arms wide.  “Exactly.  Handsy.”

Y/N stared at Dean’s face, trying to decipher if what she was picking up from him was just wishful thinking, or...was he actually jealous?

Y/N had been crushing on Dean all year.  She didn’t think that was odd, he was the sexiest, most beautiful man she’d ever known. But she’d always assumed he didn’t look at her like that, like a woman - more like a bratty little kid, he’d taken under his wing. 

But now...

I don’t know, she thought, he sure seems jealous.

“Look,” Dean continued in a would-be normal tone, “there was just something about him that I didn’t like, and you are a very...young, naïve...trusting kid, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t get hurt okay?”

When Y/N continued to stare up at him he pushed away from the trunk.  “Okay, we gotta go take care of this corpse.  So, let’s go.”

He walked toward the driver’s side door, and Y/N followed.  “Dean, can I ask you for something?”

The hunter turned back toward her and Y/N tried not to visibly sigh as she was once again looking up into his remarkably beautiful face.  

Dean shrugged.  “Sure.  What do you need?”

Y/N walked closer to him, and Dean backed up until he was pressed up against the car door and there was less than two inches of air between them.

“Would you kiss me?”

Dean’s eyes flared wide for a second and it was almost comical.  As she’d been training with him over the last year, she’d seen Dean take down monsters with not much more than a forward lunge and a hard swing. So the fact that she could make panic flare, just by getting close to him, made her smile.

“What are you talking about?” He asked.

“Well,” Y/N backed up an inch and ducked her head.  “It’s embarrassing to admit, but...I’ve never been kissed.”

Dean’s eyes were definitely bulging now and he let out a bark of laughter. “What?  No way!”

Y/N bit her lip and tried to stop the embarrassed blush that spread across her cheeks.  “I know it’s pathetic for a twenty-one year old woman to have never been kissed - even saying it out loud makes me feel like a bad Drew Barrymore movie!”

She shook her head and looked at the ground.  “But, please don’t laugh at me.”

Dean’s tone was contrite.  “No, kid I’m sorry, I wasn’t...I mean, I’m not laughing at you and it’s not pathetic.  It’s just...”

He waved a hand that encompassed her whole body.  “I mean, how?”

She blushed more at the compliment.  “Well, I told you how I grew up - in the church.  Kissing boys wasn’t exactly encouraged.  And then, even after I left the church, left home, the timing just never seemed right, and since I started in this hunter life, the moment has seemed even less likely to appear.”

She shook her head and looked to the stars.  “Then tonight, I thought...this could be it.”  She paused and slapped both hands to her face, covering it and muffling her words.  “Then his fangs popped out and it kinda killed the mood.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Dean said, his voice quiet.

Y/N took her hands away from her face and moved towards him again.  He crushed himself further back against the car. 

“But Y/N, you don’t want your first kiss to be with me.”

Y/N reached her fingertips up to rest against his lips.  “I don’t?” She said breathlessly.  “Because I’ve been having dreams about this mouth for over a year.”

Dean’s breath became slightly heavier against her fingers. He reached up to take hold of her wrist and pulled her hand away.  “Y/N. I am too old for you.  By a lot.  It isn’t right.”

Y/N scowled and shook her head.  “Says who?”

Dean gave a slightly bitter laugh.  “Everyone.” He ran his free hand through his hair.  “I am two decades older than you. I could literally be your father.”

“Actually, my father is a year younger than you.” Y/N said unhelpfully.

Dean dropped his head to stare at the ground, mumbling. “For fuck’s sake...”

Y/N waved her hand dismissively.  “Look, my point is that age is nothing but a number once two people are fully grown, consenting adults.”

Dean lifted his head and shot her a sarcastic smirk.  “Yeah, well, one of us is barely a consenting adult.”

“But I am a grown woman.” Y/N protested.  “And with everything that’s happened to me in the last year, I feel like I’ve aged a lifetime.  And through all of it, all the fear and the trauma and the heartbreak, you’ve been there, Dean. You’ve taken care of me and helped me grow and helped me try to feel at home in this new insane reality I’m living in.”

She moved closer once again, lifting her free hand to his chest.  “So, who cares about anything else.”

She looked up at him; her eyes drifted to his lips and she began to rise up on tiptoe towards the plump, succulent pillows.

But Dean pulled back.  “I care.” He said quietly.  “I don’t want...I’m not right for you, sweetheart.”

Y/N dropped back down from her tiptoes and pulled her hand off his chest. “I’m sorry.” She said, face reddening quickly. “I’m...shit, I’m sorry. I’m putting you in an awkward position.”

She laughed, nervous and embarrassed.  She shrugged and nodded, awkward and hurt. “Okay, well we should...” She waved her hand toward the trunk and let out a slightly manic laugh.  “We should really go bury my date, I guess.” 

She ducked her head again and moved to walk around the front of the car to the passenger’s side.  But before she could get very far, Dean yanked her back by the wrist he still held and spun her so she was pressed up against the hood, trapped there by the weight of Dean’s hips pressed against her. 

Before she could do more than gasp, Dean had hold of her cheeks and was pressing warm lips against hers, sucking on both her lips in turn. He pulled back slightly and let his open mouth caress hers, breathing softly into her like he was breathing life into her veins.

Then slowly he let his tongue slide against hers, moving into her mouth gently, conquering her fully as he tilted his head and pressed himself into her, ravaging her mouth thoroughly.

Dean’s kiss was so much more than Y/N had ever imagined a kiss would be.

She’d imagined it many times, over the years and always thought that, if the kiss was a good one, she might feel lightheaded, and she did.  She clung to Dean’s shoulders in an attempt to keep the world straight. 

She’d also thought that she might feel those butterflies in her stomach, like the ones she felt anytime Dean got close enough to brush against her. And her stomach was indeed alive with dancing butterflies.

What she had not expected was the way the rest of her body reacted. She hadn’t expected her core muscles to clench around nothing or to have to fight the urge to grind down against the thick thigh that was pressed between her legs.  She hadn’t expected to want to rub against Dean like a dog in heat.

She hadn’t expected a simple kiss to make her long for so much more.

Dean pulled back again, allowing them each to catch their breath.  He began to place kisses along her jaw and she moaned, at which point Dean ripped himself away from her and standing three feet back, pushed both hands through his short hair.

“Fuck.” He said like a prayer. “I’m sorry, Y/N.  I shouldn’t have done that.  I’m sorry.”

Y/N shook her head, still breathless and reeling. “I’m not. That kiss made me incredibly glad that I saved my first kiss for a very good kisser. And it got me thinking...”

Dean licked his lips, his breathing still slightly uneven, as he bit into his bottom lip. “About?” 

Y/N smiled, shy but mischievous. “About how many other firsts I can share with you.”

Dean groaned deeply and reached Y/N in one stride. One hand slipped into her hair and the other snaked around her waist, pressing her closer.

“Fuck it.” He breathed against her lips. “I’m gonna go to hell for this, but it won’t be my first time.”

@akshi8278​ @lgranger67 @maggiegirl17​

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone​ @foxyjwls007​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​ @myloversgone​ @kazsrm67 @fangirlxwritesx67​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @charred-angelwings​ @hopefuldreamers-world @siospins2​ @deanwanddamons​ @deandreamernp​ @my-sherlock221b​ @jensensgotyoudean​ @lyarr24​ @snowlovespie​ @stixnstripesworld​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @magssteenkamp​ @norman1967​ @princessmisery666​ @eevvvaa​ @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @b-i-t-c-h-i-e @twirpbunwarrior​ @mysweetlittledesire​ @waynes-multiverse​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @bernasaurus​ @leigh70​

@supernatural4life2022​ @dainrumnaheim​ @sexyvixen7​ @maliburenee​ @waywardbaby @jensenslady79​

Masterlist Tag Lists

#30 days writing challenge #dean winchester fan fiction #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester fluff #spn fan fiction #spn fan fic one shot #spn fan fic drabble

[darling-i-read-it]

Hi again, hope you're having a good day :)

I'm so happy to find someone just as head over heels for Finn as I've been lol I adore your fics so much, I can't go a day without rereading them, you're so talented dear. I adore Red Tide even though I saw a lot of poor reviews for it I'm so glad I didn't let them stop me :D

As for my request, feel free to decline I'll understand completely but here it is: Harry Gardner x Reader (female if that's ok with you) and some domestic fluff. I'm leaving everything else up to your liking and ideas 🥰

Take care <3

I hope you enjoy dear! It's slightly hilarious I've congregated this little harry gardner fandom and i'm glad to provide <3 I hope you don't mind I did it headcanons style, I thought that would be most accurate to your request!

the silent domesticness of yours and harry's relationship is one to aspire for

he loves the quiet moments, the ones that no one else sees, the ones where you're still asleep and he can just stare at you

when he was younger he was a hopeless romantic at heart, being a writer and all

when his writing was more rooted in passion he always thought he would have that fairytale relationship

the ones that grand stories are written about

he found as he grew older, he wanted the ones that are so sweet and bland that they're usually just mentioned in passing in those big stories

the big stories have too much drama

when he was writing you would bring him coffee sometimes and sit beside him, reading your own book or doing your own things

the silence was the best of it. comfortable. not pushing him to pay attention but listening when he was stumped

"I can't figure this out," he murmured. He was staring at the computer screen like it would change for him. You looked up from your book, eyes droopy.

"Figure what out?"

"What the hell I'm trying to say here."

"Read it to me," you said, putting your book down on your chest. He turned to face you and cleared his throat before he started. He had your full attention. This is what marriage was supposed to be.

he tended to a life that was quiet, especially after the two of you moved out into the a small beach town

he could finally live out the silly dreams of being a husband by the town, the one who would get donuts if he woke up early and get decorations for anniversary's

living together was like a perfect little storm

perfect may be a stretch. it was like a storm that you both knew rather well

you would see his clothes on the ground and toss them into the hamper. he would close the toothpaste when you left it unscrewed. you would rearrange the fridge on Saturdays and he would wipe down the bedside tables, throwing away anything left behind.

he loves to cuddle

he loves to have his hands everywhere all the time, if you're making dinner of if you're just sitting beside him

hand on your leg, your arm, your side

even when you're out he likes to hold hands, even after the magic has faded a bit and the normalcy of marriage sits in

he doesn't ever not want to show you off. we're a unit. can you see that we're a unit?

You were falling asleep on the couch after a long day at work. The TV was on but you had stopped paying attention to it, only registering the drum of voices. You heard Harry walk in and you felt the dip in the couch. You opened your eyes a tad to see him leaning over so that he would lay on you.

You scoffed, preparing for him to take your breath away. He let out a groan as he got comfortable, slinging your leg around him, nestling his head into your chest. You wrapped your arms around his back.

"Do you know we have a bed?" he whispered. You giggled halfheartedly, your sleepiness not allowing anything else.

"So far. Too many steps."

you fall asleep there together because you can. Because no one is going to tell you not to.

you fall in love in those moments

when he makes your favorite food or buys something from the store he knows you would like even though you've never tried it. moments like those make everything else worth it <3

#harry gardner x reader #harry gardner x fem!reader #american horror story imagines #american horror story fanfiction #harry gardner imagines

[ghoulangerlee]

LEE!!!!! 1/16 WITH Phountain? 🥺 pls and ty

the name phountain fills me with so much glee 😂 once again I'm using Phantom for the name even tho I prefer Aeon haha

1. good morning

16. ...lazily

feat soft and introspective Phantom and sleep rumpled Mountain; no smut just sweetness, introspection and kisses :)

-

He wakes somewhat early, while the sun's rays are just high enough to cast light through the barely open curtains of Mountain's bedroom; it's warm in here, somewhat like a greenhouse, the perfect temperature to sleep without a blanket, but Phantom still finds himself curled under one, his head resting on the pillow just beside Mountain's as he watches the other ghoul sleep.

It's rare, very rare, that Phantom's awake first; in the grand scheme of things, he's not much of a morning person, but Mountain had been spending more time cultivating the lands while partially retired from being a touring ghoul.

Phantom remembers what that's like, even as an earth hybrid himself, the tiring days of pushing his magic into the earth, calling forth plants at the cusp of spring, blessing the lands to make sure that the gardens provide a bountiful spring harvest.

Self-sufficiency was the key to the Church's survival, after all, and long ago, the higher ups had realized that things ran a bit better if there was an earth ghoul involved.

Now there are droves of them, and Mountain doesn't have to lend his magic, but Phantom thinks that part of him finds the quietness of the church to be too quiet, there's no tour, no music to play beyond the here and there performances for Mass, no rushing from one place to another.

Things have slowed down a lot, since Papa's retirement, though the Church was thriving better than ever in his stead.

He can feel the listless and restless energy coming from Mountain, who's been on his feet since he was summoned, always needing to do something, always tending to things, and while Phantom would never be the one to tell him that he should slow down, he is glad, however, for mornings like this, where he's the first to wake.

The sun casts a glow over Mountain's skin, a little bit darker than his normal cool gray tone, from all the time he'd spent out in the sun over the summer, playing all the outdoor shows, there's a constellation of freckles, spotted brown and sepia across the bridge of his nose and Phantom has to reign in the urge to lean forward and press a kiss to them.

Not yet. Not so soon.

He doesn't want to disturb Mountain in his sleep, and a quick glance over at the clock hanging on the wall tells him that he'll be sleeping well past noon, with it already being just a quarter past eleven.

Phantom wonders if Mountain will mind sleeping in so late; it's just barely spring now and the earth ghouls had been put through so much in just a few short days, trying to get everything prepared; the summer expected to be drier than normal.

He knows this much because he's been helping out too, in between assisting Aether in the infirmary and carrying out tasks for Papa when called upon, he's been lending his magic to the earth as well.

Now a little bit stronger than before, under Mountain's patient tutelage and the stack of books from the library that had helped him find his center and find where his magic had hidden itself dormant for so long, he's able to spend more time than he had before, pouring his magic into the earth, making sure the fertile soil was as fertile as it could be.

Most nights find Phantom and Mountain in the greenhouse, a space for the two of them, beyond the common rooms where they can talk quietly and check in on each other, a place where Mountain and Phantom could start cultivating seedlings for the garden that was to be planted soon, something completely separate to the chaos of pack and all of their other duties beyond that.

Phantom exhales softly, his breath ruffling Mountain's bangs; his hair's gotten longer, in the interim, since he doesn't have to wear the helmet anymore, since Papa had all but given ghouls free reign over their own appearances within the church, no longer tethered by the masks and helmets.

He gives into the urge then, reaching out to card his fingers through Mountain's sleep rumpled bangs, pushing them back from his face, the action causing Mountain's nose to scrunch up, his eyes to flutter for a moment before they open, slowly, blinking heavily at the low light.

"Ant?" Mountain mumbles, his eyes closing again when Phantom's fingers scratch just between his horns, a low rumble of a purr starting up in his chest, "Time is it?"

Phantom leans forward, gives into his other urge and presses a gentle kiss to the freckles across Mountain's nose, "Almost twelve," he murmurs, "Didn't want to wake you, but couldn't help but..." he trails off, carding his fingers through Mountain's hair. "Missed you, maybe. Was somehow getting lonely while you're all cozied up in bed beside me."

There a laugh, a soft thing that's barely discernible from Mountain's purr and Mountain's eyes flutter open again, beautiful clear green that catch the light and make a kaleidoscope of color bloom in them, "I'm right here," he says, and then he reaches out, tips up Phantom's chin with two fingers before he leans in and presses a kiss to his mouth, slow and gentle.

Phantom hums into the kiss, worming his way out of the blanket and into Mountain's arms properly, looping an arm over Mountain's shoulder as he does so; and though the kiss stays slow, it only takes a few moments for it to turn into something a little more.

There's a careful press of teeth to Phantom's lower lip, a move that has him opening up, letting Mountain deepen it; there's no desire to make it something heavy, no arousal behind it; sometimes Phantom is completely and utterly fine with, nurturing Mountain's want and need to kiss as often as he can.

It does, eventually come to an end, though Mountain stays close, keeps Phantom close as he continues to pepper his cheeks and jaw, his lips with little kisses, lazy ones that make Phantom purr with happiness as he sinks deeper and deeper into Mountain's embrace, into their little bubble of togetherness before they have to face the day.

Across the room on the wall, the clock ticks happily over to noon.

#phountain #gaige :') #ask replies #ficlet #my writing

[losers-clvb]

regrets // sirius black

pairing: post-azkaban!sirius black x female!reader

content: frustration, arguing, wounds, death, grief, pregnancy

summary: you’re pregnant with sirius’ child and the two of you are cooking dinner when buckbeak is mysteriously injured. against sirius’ wishes you attempt to help tend to the creature’s wound. whilst arguing with you to let him deal with it, buckbeak accidentally bucks up and you receive a gash in your arm. you run off in tears after sirius yells at you. that’s when sirius is called to the ministry to save harry, and though he tries to apologize when he leaves, you’re too stubborn to reply.

note: i originally posted this on a different account, but i'm switching it over to make this my main account.

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

"You shouldn't be in here." You heard the voice of your husband scold you slightly.

Just minutes ago, you had both been trying making dinner for two, which wasn't going too well. It was a new thing for both of you. Sirius had always had food made for him, whether it was by a house-elf or a fellow magic-maker. Your father was a Muggle and had been brought up by a single mother, so he taught you the essential cooking skills, but over the summer Molly had been so intent on keeping you off your feet when the announcement of your pregnancy came about that you had become a bit rusty.

But then you both had heard Buckbeard let out a sharp cry of pain. Sirius rushed up the stairs with you waddling closely behind him to find an angry hippogriff with a deep gash. Sirius tried pushing you out of the room to keep you from getting injured, but you had refused due to the pure fact that you had become too fond of the creature to leave. Now, you were attempting the clean out the wound while Sirius tried to hold him still.

"I can do this myself." He grumbled.

"Just let me help. I've almost got it." You replied with, dabbing at the cut.

A shriek and a yell later and you were leaning against a wall holding your upper arm. Blood coated your fingers and was dripping onto the ground along with your teardrops. Sirius rushed to you, shaking his head as he gently grabbed your arm.

"You should have listened to me." He sighed out. "Now get out and fix that. I can't remember any healing spells." He continued and moved back to Buckbeak, who was waiting

"I'm fine." You said, moving toward Buckbeak, only wincing a bit when you moved your arm.

You grabbed a roll of bandages and started to try to dress Buckbeak's wound. You had dropped it at least three times before Sirius pushed you away from the beast.

"Go." He said firmly, pointing to the door.

"I'm fine." You said through gritted teeth as you were attempting to move past him.

Sirius had finally snapped. He loved you too much to let you do this. He shook his head angrily and took a few steps back when he saw no movement from you.

"Just get out, goddammit!" He yelled, turning away from you.

You stumbled back, the hand of your uninjured arm immediately going to your swollen stomach. You let out a shaky breath as you turned and waddled out of the room, slowly padding down the stairs. You grabbed a kitchen towel from the counter and wrapped it around your arm. You couldn't heal it magically at the moment because you had injured your wand arm. You wiped away the single tear that had rolled down your face and wobbled over to a chair. You sat there for at least an hour, simultaneously hating yourself and cursing Sirius out in your head. You occasionally checked on your injury, lifting the blood-stained towel up to see an ugly gash. You only faintly heard Kreacher's voice from another room but thought nothing of it. The house-elf always talked to himself, and you didn't feel the desire to hear more slurs about your blood status.

The front door of the house banged open to reveal an out of breath Remus. You frowned at him.

"Where's Sirius?" He breathed out frantically.

You pointed to the stairs meekly just as Sirius came rushing down.

"What's going on?" He asked Remus, the glanced at you to see if you were okay.

You didn't even look at him. Instead, you stared at the tablecloth in front of you. You were too scared to look at Sirius, but not of him. You were scared of what you would do if you did look at him.

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named lured Harry to the Ministry," Remus said quickly, grabbing out his wand from inside his jacket.

You looked up at this. Harry was like your nephew. You had immediately gotten along with the boy when you two first met, back when Sirius was in Azkaban. The Potter had only been eleven, and at that time, Dumbledore had introduced you as merely one of James' friends rather than Sirius' lover. You had been close to James before he was killed by the Dark Lord. He had treated you as his sister, and you had treated him as your brother because your own was too busy 'ruling the school' with Lucius Malfoy. You were treated as one of the boys, though you had never learned of the Marauder's Map until it was in Harry's possession. He had let you hang with the four Gryffindors most of the time, and they had all joked with you.

Then you had taken a special liking for one of the boys when fourth year rolled around. Sirius had always seemed to make sure you were happy, and sometimes even made you promise to cheer for him at Quidditch games. Your hands had grazed the other's frequently, and that was about the only time you ever saw Sirius blush. He had finally decided to ask you out on a date around Christmas time. It was just a simple butterbeer together at Three Broomsticks, but it was enough. You two had had butterbeer together before, but only in the presence of Remus, Peter, and James. This time it would be alone.

After the drinks, Sirius walked you back to the Gryffindor common room and just before you had headed off to the girls' dormitory, he had swiftly grabbed your face and placed a kiss upon your lips. You kissed back, of course, and that had led to you two cuddling and being as romantic as can be on the sofa. The only problem you two had not thought of was James. He had walked in on the two after a great day in Hogsmeade. He didn't seem to like his best friend being an item with his 'sister'. This led to an early bedtime for you both. By morning, Sirius had convinced James that he would keep you safe, and you had promised that you would still cheer for him at his Quidditch games. You were made one of Lily's bridesmaids and Sirius was made James' best man. At your own wedding, you had asked Lily to be your maid of honor, and Sirius had practically begged James to help him with his vows and be his best man.

So to say that you had felt a special bond with Harry was an understatement. You waited for Remus to continue with something, anything that would make you feel better. But he didn't. Instead, Sirius sprang into action. He told Remus to beat him there so he could make sure Harry was safe enough, swiped his wand from off the counter, and slipped on his shoes. He rushed over to you and placed a kiss on your lips just as he had done the first time.

"I love you, (Y/N/N)." He told you.

When you didn't answer him, he sighed.

"I'll be back." He declared before Apparating out of the home.

You instantly regretted not answering him. You moved from the chair you were sitting on to the bedroom you two shared, which was just Sirius' old bedroom with some of your things inside. You let your hand graze over the pictures of the two of you, of James and him, of the Marauders all together, and of just you. You gently laid yourself onto the bed and closed your eyes, cherishing the silence. You could smell Sirius on the blankets and pillows. It helped you fall asleep, but it didn't keep you asleep.

Only a half an hour later, you woke up with tears streaming down your face. You had the worst nightmare ever, one where Sirius died hating you. You couldn't stand it. You placed your feet onto the ground and walked out to the living area. You sat on the sofa and waited. You felt like you had been waiting forever before you finally heard the familiar sound of the door opening. You rushed as fast as you could to the door, greeting who you thought was Sirius with a hug.

"(Y/N)." You heard Remus' voice.

You threw yourself off of him and looked at him with concern. You noticed that Sirius was nowhere to be seen.

"Remus, where is he? Where's Sirius? I need to say something to him." You told the werewolf.

Remus looked as if he had swallowed a giant pill. He looked pained and weak. You frowned softly at the man, looking up into his eyes as you waited for his answer. He looked down at you and wrapped you in a hug. You immediately pulled away, sensing something was wrong.

"What happened? Is he hurt? Did he get caught by the Ministry?" You asked him, a million and one scenarios going through your head.

Remus shook his head. He gulped down a breath and stumbled into the house further. He practically fell down onto a chair, staring into space and running a hand through his hair briefly.

"(Y/N), he-he's dead. Bellatrix Lestrange killed him and -" Remus said softly, his voice breaking.

He looked up at you, tears streaming down his face. You couldn't comprehend his words at first. When it finally clicked, your face fell, along with your body. Remus had barely made it to your falling form before you hit the ground. He held you on the floor as you sobbed, clutching onto his shirt and gulping for air. All you could feel was pain and heartbreak.

You blamed Bellatrix, you blamed Voldemort, you even blamed yourself. Why hadn't you kissed him back? Why hadn't you told him that you loved him? Why did you get upset over something that was truly your fault?

You must have been sitting there for an hour before a knock on the door came about. Remus slowly helped you stand and supported you as he led you over to a chair. He then walked to the door, wand at the ready. He swung the door open with his wand pointed at the person behind it.

Molly Weasley had a forlorn look on her face. She shoved past Remus and practically ran over to you before wrapping you in her arms. She always treated you like her own child, ever since you met, which was sometimes a bit annoying because of the smothering, but most times it was endearing. Molly pulled away after a few moments. She looked you over and caught a glimpse of your arm. She gasped at the bloody mess, drew her wand from inside her bag, placed the tip of her wand near the injury, and muttered something. Instantly your arm healed, leaving you with no trace of an encounter with Buckbeak. You sniffled softly, tears still rolling down your cheeks.

"Now, you will come with me back to the Burrow. Go pack whatever you will need to bring, and I will find means of traveling. Apparating will hurt the baby, and I don't seem to have any Floo powder." Molly said, looking through her gigantic bag.

You did as she said, and packed everything you could. Your clothes, your toiletries, your favorite objects, and of course, every picture you could find that wasn't magically stuck to the wall. You carried the bag back to where Molly was. She immediately grabbed your bag from you and shoved it into Remus' arms. She then gently wrapped your traveling cloak around you and grabbed your hand. She led you outside the house, locking the door behind her with a flick of her wrist. You were carefully placed inside a taxi, with Molly next to you, Remus next to Molly. Molly gave the driver the address, stroking your hair gently as you leaned into her.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" The driver asked, attempting small talk.

Remus didn't say anything back. You held back a sob and snuggled into Molly even more, your tears streaming down your face faster now. Molly just nodded sadly and continued to stroke your hair. The driver didn't say anything else after that.

When you finally reached the Burrow, it was daylight. You hadn't gotten any sleep since your little nap, but you couldn't sleep alone. You had barely been left alone since Sirius had escaped from Azkaban. You slept with him, you ate with him, you cleaned with him, you cooked with him, you had even taken showers with the man. Before your pregnancy, it had been a sexy time with him. But when you had started growing a baby bump, he didn't want you to somehow pull a muscle by washing your hair. It sometimes was a bit bothersome, but it was also sweet. He was so excited to be a father. He never let you get too cold or too warm. He kept you stuffed with all your favorite foods.

But now he was gone. You were alone in this world until your child was born, a child you would have to raise alone. Your child wouldn't have a father. No one to check under the bed for monsters. No one to tease you with. You choked back a sob, knowing that Molly and Remus were trying to sleep. You softly rubbed your stomach and looked out into the garden.

After hours of Molly smothering you with every form of love she had, you were finally left alone again. The moonlight streamed in through the window of the room you were staying in. The stars shone brightly on the country hills. You quietly made your way down to the garden, then sat on a bench out there. You snuggled into your sweater and looked up at the night sky. You saw a particular star shining the brightest. Sirius. You wiped away the tear that had fallen and smile sadly at the diamond-like thing.

"I love you too." You whispered to it, remembering Sirius' last words to you.

why did i feel the need to write a sad sirius imagine as my first one? i have no idea, but there are more coming don't you worry.

if you have a request, please feel free to tell me! i would be happy to write anything [to an extent] that you would want to read!

#siriusblackxreader #siriusblack #marauders era #sirius black imagines #harry potter and the order of the phoenix #imagines #fandom imagines

[tadpolesonalgae]

just finished cbmthy and it was so well written as always but that conversation with feyre made me so uncomfortable, i kind of figured it wasn't this bad between her and her family, just that she tended to isolate herself and everyone is always busy and shit at talking. but not only feyre hasn't spoken to her since her bday but also was just there awkwardly and not even ask about anything other than about bas because she was worried (which i guess is good she worries for her sister but to me it just shows that az isn't the only one who doesn't trust her judgement at all) also the way she said everyone helps with nyx and named everyone basically besides reader was so? she could at least ask her to join her for like dinner or something to see nyx, i dont really care for children and reader doesn't give me that vibe either but that's her baby nephew so it feels weird knowing she's distanced from everyone like this. there's no way they think she's okay like this and as much as reader would probably deny any invitation, those would at least show that they care for her and it doesn't seem like they even do that. and i like her dynamic with eris a lot but it always leaves me wishing she was like this with her actual family and that we only get to see her like this with him or bas. i dont know, as much as azriel already has to grovel i think the ic does too at this point because az not paying attention to her is one thing since he just doesnt like her like that (even if she likes him and he went too far, hes really not obligated to look after her bc at this point he's an acquaintance) but her sisters and their mates who are technically her family now too not even caring is weird, i want reader to stay in the night court and with azriel but at this point she really doesn't have any reason to and since it's already been 2 years of this they have a lot to make up for. also maybe i read it wrong but has no one (besides maybe elain and azriel being a dick) talked to her since her bday? that was a shitshow and no one thought to maybe check on her 💀

im still excited about her powers and i like that she's doing something about them but her choosing to do it on her own even though she obviously doesn't know much about magic in general is kinda dumb of her (after seeing the conversation she had w feyre i get that she really just doesn't want to have any help because of her own feelings and fears of being a burden and stuff but still) also as sweet as the hand cream was (and it was) i wish az had pushed her a bit more this time (since he clearly has no trouble doing it), i dont mean being mean to her obviously but at least ask her if she's sure about her decision to do this alone or if she wants his help or someone else's because she might get herself hurt doing it on her own and it's frustrating to see her go through it alone when she has 3 sisters who went through literally the same thing as her and the rest of the ic who helped said sisters, at this point it might really be eris helping her with her powers all the way from a different court and idk how the ic and az would come back from that. also it's good to see her inner thoughts about eris because it contrasts with how naive everyone seems to think she is, i just really wish she showed it, instead of trying to act how she thinks they expect of her

- 🧶

In Feyre’s defence, reader did very suspiciously and frantically shove away a letter with writing on 😭 I’d be curious too if (heavy theoretical) my sister did something like that. Especially if she had a tendency to keep to herself—I’d want to know what’s going on in her life :)

She did initially come to talk with reader about what happened after giving her space and time to approach them, and to be fair, Feyre was just happy to find out that she has someone who she actually kind of wants to spend time around? Rather than trying to be nosey (which she kind of was, despite trying otherwise), Feyre really did just want her to be safe, and some people may think that’s a bit infantilising, but to be fair, Feyre’s been mistreated by a lot of people, while reader hasn’t had many opportunities in her life to find out how vicious people can be?

And with the Nyx thing, I suppose they (Feysand) don’t want to push responsibility onto other people, and reader doesn’t want to bother them, so it kind of goes round in a circle 😭

(Also Nyx is theirs, they want to be around as much as possible; treasure every moment because of how Rhys’ father and Feyre’s mother weren’t there for them as children so I kind of feel it would be weird for them to invite reader to look after their kid? That could just be me though.)

‘but her choosing to do it on her own even though she obviously doesn't know much about magic in general is kinda dumb of her’

See with this, she has the entirety of Rhys’ library at her fingertips and enjoys reading and learning new things, so for her, unless she absolutely has to, doing it by herself is just more preferable?

It’s not like it’s unreasonable from her perspective? Having gone from the human lands where libraries were so rare to having such a massive and extensive one just beneath her feet—it would be weird to think there’s anyway a subject isn’t covered?

Even though, as the actual readers, we can assume that her powers are similar to Nesta’s in the sense there hasn’t been anything like them before, there’s no way she would know that? I know it might be frustrating to see her doing something we doubt will be actually productive, but I feel quite strongly that she genuinely believes she’s capable of managing on her own with the help of books 🧡💛

Well, she’ll find out for herself one way or another 🤷

‘i wish az had pushed her a bit more this time (since he clearly has no trouble doing it)’

He’s inadvertently pushed her in the past, but with this time there were actual obvious signs (trembling hands) of her discomfort instead of silence which could be a multitude of things? Also, he now knows how Nesta had trouble with facing her own powers, and to add to that, reader’s had two years of absolutely nothing, while all three of her sisters have proven useful in some capacity?

‘and idk how the ic and az would come back from that.’

On one hand, it could be the blade that completely severs their relationship, but on the other, it could be the beginning to something else…👀

‘instead of trying to act how she thinks they expect of her’

I was honestly kind of concerned this part might be overlooked, so I’m so relieved you’ve zeroed in on it. Again, I’m not sure if I’ve properly elaborated on it, but she certainly changes some aspects of herself to what she thinks people want of her, which can be confusing on the receiving end :/

Also, I really hope when I respond to these longer asks, it doesn’t sound mean or anything like that? I really love seeing all your thoughts, and I’m sometimes torn between trying to explain things (without sounding like a dick) without giving spoilers as to perhaps why certain characters act potentially a little differently from how they’re portrayed in the books and accidentally saying or alluding to something that hasn’t happened yet?

(And, to be fair, it could always be down to me just genuinely writing a character badly or wrong 😬)

Anyway, I really hope these responses just come out as conversational and they don’t put you off from sending in your thoughts :)

#🧶 anon <3 #🧶 #CBMTHY

[cullenakingirog]

Paraluman:

Life: 1, 4, and 7. Essentials: 4, 6, and 11, Codex: 9 and 11!

Thank you so much for asking, I'll do my best to answer each one!!

What region in Thedas were they born in? What was their hometown (and their home itself) like?

So I reworked Paraluman's backstory a bit more and I had her be born in Azarinas (Thedas-flavoured Philippines).

Their hometown, (Coincidentally named Montillon after Montilyet), had a large alienage tucked into a corner and gated so that the elves don't get access to specific buildings or that if they were allowed into places like the chantry, they were to sit at the far back or stand during the service while the more aristocratic Azarinos (and some mestizos) get to sit in front among the Antivan peninsulares.

The alienage in Montillon had a chapel built by the Indigeno (the elves as Azarinas was originally elven land) so they would be able to have some freedom as the revered mother assigned to the chapel was at least a kind woman who did not abuse her powers as they were often wont to do among the clergy of Azarinas. There were carinderias for the common people to eat it, street vendors of fans, canes and umbrellas strolling round the alienage and small businesses and storefronts like tailorshops, and some grocer shops that had illegal wares from Rivain and the Free Marches.

Paraluman's home was a humble Nipa hut with bamboo walls serving as a thin partition to indicate different rooms. Paraluman shared a room with her sister. The furnishings were sparse and very functional. There was one bed pushed to one wall, a basin and a jug of water on top of one dresser so the children could wash their face. All their clothes are crammed into the one dresser.

The house has a total of three bedrooms all of which were measured as small as they could get away with as much space as they can outside of the rooms. The outside of their home has a water well outside where they get their bath water, drinking water, etc. Their toilet is also stationed outside their house.

Describe their family. Who were they close to? Were there any particular childhood friends?

Paraluman's grandfather was the unofficial leader of their alienage. He was stern, pragmatic and rather good at making some business connections. With his grandchildren he's fond of seeing them laugh and smile and he tends to indulge their whims on a daily basis. She remembers admiration for him. His greatness, his unyielding courage even when a guardia civil threatened him after he stood up for an elderly street vendor. She remembered thinking how she wanted to bear that courage and anger too.

Their grandmother was a flower vendor who made delicate flower arrangements. She also sold sampaguita garlands to be hung onto statues of Andraste and her followers. They always remember their grandmother tending to her flowers in the garden, light bathed her from behind like a halo. A woman who, for all her nervousness, had the gall to smack her grandfather shyly when he asked for a kiss from her.

Her mother worked for the alcalde mayor as a maid but was made to quit her job by Paraluman's father so she could focus on bringing up Paraluman and their sister when Paraluman had turned seven. She was a beautiful elven woman with curly hair and a kind if not naive outlook in life. Though she loves Paraluman, she still failed her child by excusing her younger daughter's abuse due to her weaker constitution. Paraluman's memories of her mother that stuck were those excuses and the fear instilled in her of magic. There were brief memories of lullabies at night and relentless fanning through the summer nights but Paraluman never forgot her mother's failings.

Her father works at a hacienda of an Antivan family in Azarinas that produces tobacco. He's a short tempered elf who always attacked those weaker than him but cowers in the face of powerful and stronger people. When Paraluman thought of him, it was with fogged memories filled with this burning hatred that she can't bring words to bribe wanting him dead or suffering. Feelings that she tamped down lest the Maker strike her down.

Her younger sister was constantly doted on and favoured by her parents due to her weaker constitution. Despite this weaker constitution, her sister often beat her and stole what little things they had. Paraluman often heard from this sister insults that called her ugly for being born with browner skin. She was never allowed to fight back and was told to simply understand her sister.

Paraluman was a nervous and quiet child, they were often unable to befriend others due to many issues they developed growing up but they managed to make one friend in the past.

He was an elf from Tevinter, he had a sister who he loved and a mother who protected him. Paraluman met him for three months when his master was visiting the alcalde mayor and Paraluman was brought along by her mother for her to make friends with the servants children. She saw him tucked away in a separate smaller room and asked to keep him company, upon learning his circumstance, she suggested he run away to the forests due to the rumours of those running to the forest finding freedom within it. Sadly, he declined but instead asked Paraluman to play. He was the first to say she had a pretty smile when she finally smiled wide enough to show her teeth.

She can't remember his name right but she assumed his name was spelled as Lito.

They promised to one day escape their situations and go on adventures together. Lito insisted on calling her his new sister and that he would protect her from her younger sister once that fateful time comes.

Paraluman didn't wholly believe him but she liked the fact that he made that promise.

Did they ever work a normal, everyday job?

Sometimes, before Paraluman manifested her magic, she would help her mother with her duties as a maid in the alcalde mayor's estate. She often did the sweeping and small errands like fetching ingredients for meals or lighting fires in the hearths of occupied rooms.

She also used to help her grandmother in selling sampaguita garlands in front of the chantry.

What is their moral alignment?

Paraluman is Lawful Good. Unless you betray her, then she will lawfully find a way to ruin your life and take away everything you worked and cared for.

Though really, starting coups and dethroning the undeserving isn't really beneath her if you piss her off enough.

Do they have a preferred weapon they always use?

She always uses a staff but her templar friend, Joseph Terrell, did discreetly provide her with a dagger before she left Kinloch Hold should she be disarmed.

What places in Thedas have they been to? What do they think about places other than their homeland?

Kinloch Hold: Ever since getting shipped off to Kinloch Hold at nine (Since the Penitents' Retreat was so overcrowded child mages would have been trampled underfoot), she saw it as a new home and found friends and a surrogate family in it. Granted, her experience in Kinloch still had her getting issues due to Irving making all her choices+Jowan leaving her to Greagoir and Irving's judgement but it was her own wreck of a home like her first one was.

Ostagar: She didn't form any strong opinions on it really. She was nervous about a lot of things so all she focused on were tasks given to her and didn't allow herself time to process what happened

Lothering: It looked quaint and it reminded her of the alienage in Montillon so the knowledge that it will have the horde of darkspawn upon them made her grieve. She ended up giving weapons, armour and coins to those she wanted to try and save.

Redcliffe: Did not enjoy it beyond meeting Bann Teagan who she found charming. Did not hesitate to snatch Alistair's mother's amulet when she saw it. She strongly disliked Isolde, did not enjoy getting possessed!Connor's bragging about his abuse of elven servants, hated having to hear Knife-ear and the sexism she faced. She only stayed because Alistair wanted her to help and she can't condemn the innocent with the ones who offended her.

Orzammar: No. The Deep Roads were not her thing, Dwarven politics wasn't fun to deal with especially with Harrowmont being sentenced to death and get only highlight was Dagna. Everything else? She did not want to go back ever again. Rip her in the Deep Roads cause of the Architect tho but a good thing came from it at least.

Brecilian Forest: You know those fever dreams you wish you could forget but it got obtained in you? Yeah. That's what the forest was like for her.

Denerim: Would have said it was beautiful but the wanted posters made her dislike the city.

Denerim Alienage: Brought back feelings from her childhood and it filled her with unease and a desire to solve all the problems she could. Offered her aid to Shianni and during the Battle of Denerim, she stayed as long as she could to ensure no city elves were killed.

Amaranthine: She grew to love Amaranthine and after all the changes she made that made it vastly different from the other cities of Ferelden, she was proud of it as it became a powerful and wealthy city that overshadowed Denerim.

Vigil's Keep: It became her home. Where her friends lived with her and where her children were born and raised. Where she gained power and kept it, where her plans of revenge grew amid the love and support she showered upon those that mattered to her.

Soldier's Peak: She eventually returned there to reestablish a stronghold for the Grey Wardens and to have it serve as an evacuation centre in times of emergency.

Do they have any interest in folk tales or folk songs?

Paraluman liked listening and singing along to Azarino folk songs but not so much others unless she grew familiar to it. Most songs she learned growing up aside from Azarino folk songs were religious since her mother taught her to sing hymns.

#dragon age #dragon age oc #dragon age origins #dragon age fenris #fenris dragon age #fenris #paraluman surana

[ofhowlingxs]

[ brenton thwaites | he/him ] Another face is seeking safety in New Orleans. Make sure to welcome EREN MATTHEWS to the home of the resilient. Rumor has it that they are an 27 year old WITCH, who is one of the SURVIVORS but we’ll keep that a secret. They are said to be GREEDY, but that’s all a façade to cover up their UNMOVING nature. We’ve heard that they can be found listening to FAKE IT by SEETHER, which sums them up pretty well. Let’s hope that they can find a way to survive this harsh new world.

Basics.

Name: Eren Wesley Matthews

Age: Twenty seven

Pronouns: He/Him

Species: Witch

Birthday: May 12th

Zodiac: Taurus

Hair color: Chestnut

Eye color: Brown

Relationships.

Siblings: Cody Matthews, Benji Matthews

Half siblings: Jaylen Grey

Parents: Estranged

Personality.

Despite his attempt to fit in within his earlier teenage years, Eren has never been much of a people person. He prefers his own company to others more often than not. He’s always been a little on the quieter side, and often doesn’t really understand a lot of sarcasm. As far as first impressions go, he can be a bit stand offish and may come across as rude, despite not meaning to. He’s very direct, and that can sometimes be mistaken for abrasive. He loves art, and has carried a journal with him in which he sketches people in his private time. He’s especially good at capturing portraits of others.

History.

Eren has always had a complex middle child syndrome. While his brothers had dealt with the repercussions of their psychic abilities, he was left without the burden of it all. Though in the process of this, attention was drifted from him at a younger age, to tend to the needs of his brothers, leaving Eren to fall through the cracks.

Though he knows it wasn’t necessarily his parents or his brother’s fault, there had always been a complex relationship there. He looked up to Cody growing up, and that admiration over the years, turned to jealousy.

No matter how often he tried to follow in footsteps that were set in place, he never quite seemed to fit. For a majority of his teenage years, he tried to push himself outside of his comfort zone. Anything to bring more attention to himself, amongst his parents and brothers. He started and quit many different talents, the latest of his senior year in high school when he joined the football team.

He was good at it, as he was most of the things he picked up, as strategy had always been his strong point. Though, when the benches to his games grew colder, he decided that he actually hated the sport. The crowds. And it still had done nothing to get him the attention he so desperately craved from the people that mattered the most. So he quit— again.

Magic seemed to be the only thing that felt like it was his. Mastering it from a young age, and for the most part self taught— he excelled in elemental magic (fire) above all else. While his skills continued to grow, he picked up easily on things that could benefit him. Location magic, binding, curses, and weapon enchantment. While focusing his attention and skill on that, he also to took studying Algorithmic magic, and connective magic.

When his magic started to excel his age, he started to take interest in their coven. Though even then, he didn’t quite fit in. It was often he was being scolded for being places he wasn’t supposed to be, in search of curiosity. Though he’d soon be expelled from the coven as well, when he’d out grown their antics and started selling his skillsets in magic to whoever would pay the most for it. It turned into a business, and he’d sell his expertise to whoever came knocking, turning a blind eye to the reasoning and often being known as the best and most expensive at his work.

This led him to having ties with the OEA as he entered into adulthood. He was nonchalant, and quiet, and so long as you had the money to pay for silence— he didn’t involve himself in the whys. He didn’t ask too many questions, in fact he’d made it a point to not know the reasoning to his clients requests. To him, it was just another job. And later, a better distraction as his brother went missing.

Years went on, and he soon would soon come to realize that his ties within the OEA have brought into light exactly what happened to Cody. After that, he cut ties with the OEA, refusing their business and hanging onto the guilt of the fact he’d had a hand in what happened. Though, he swallows that in silence on his own.

#exitium.intro #just fake it if you don’t belong || eren matthews

[soulsxng]

MUSE: Ezra Keter

— basics

▸ is your muse tall/short/average?  5'9", so right about average!

▸ are they okay with their height?  Most of the time, he doesn't think about it too much. Other times, someone taller walks by him, and he's suddenly mourning the fact that he doesn't have an extra inch or two. Really! He'd be happy with even one more inch! He promises!

▸ what’s their hair like? Deep black, with a soft, but noticeable wave to it that gives it a decent bit of body. He's lucky enough to be able to just roll out of bed, brush through it real fast, and throw it in a ponytail or bun, and look perfectly fine. Fluctuates between being right around his nape, and being in line with the bottom of his shoulder blades. He doesn't get it cut often, so he tends to have it cut short, each time he goes in. Very soft and silky, so it doesn't lend itself to styling very well.

▸ do they spend a lot of time on their hair/with their grooming? Not really. He has a basic routine, but he's never really wanted to waste his time with any tedious beauty routines or anything like that. Plus, he doesn't know much about that kind of thing, so he wouldn't even know where to start!

▸ does your muse care about their appearance? ...Again, not really. He cares enough to look presentable most of the time, but at the same time, he really doesn't care if he has a day off and rolls up to the grocery store down the street to grab sandwich stuff or an instant meal in his pajamas real fast. Though I guess that's pretty much sweatpants and a t-shirt, so it's not especially odd.

▸ does your muse care about what others think about them? Very much so. Ezra can be really sensitive about how other people think of him. Not to the point that, if someone doesn't really care for him, it'll ruin his day, but if someone is afraid of him? If someone says something even a little mean about him? He'll try to brush it off, or dismiss it with a laugh, but chances are that's going to stick with him the rest of the day.

— preferences

▸ indoors or outdoors? Outdoors

▸ rain or sunshine? Sunshine. He can't really go out in the rain all that much without ending up sick...though he does like listening to/watching the rain!

▸ forest or beach? I'm thinking forest, if only because he doesn't like crowded places, and the beach can get pretty crowded at times.

▸ precious metals or gems? Precious metals, if he absolutely had to choose. Really, he doesn't care much about either one, though.

▸ flowers or perfumes? Flowers

▸ personality or appearance? Personality

▸ being alone or being in a crowd? Being alone

▸ order or anarchy? Order

▸ painful truths or white lies? Painful truths

▸ science or magic? Magic

▸ peace or conflict? Peace

▸ night or day? Day

▸ dusk or dawn? Dusk

▸ warmth or cold? Warmth

▸ many acquaintances or a few close friends? Few close friends

▸ reading or playing a game? Playing a game

— questionnaire

▸ what are some of your muse’s bad habits? Critical and demanding of himself. Even when he's sick, he'll try to push himself to do things, partly because he gets antsy, and partly to avoid feeling useless. Stubborn. Gets addicted to things pretty easily, and because of that, it's hard for him to avoid dangerous or risky situations if he's done something similar before and enjoyed it. Gives people too many chances.

▸ has your muse lost anyone close to them? how has it affected them? He has. It can make him get a little...frantic in his need to watch out for the people close to him, at times. He just wants his friends and loved ones to be safe, and happy. He's afraid of losing any more than he already has.

▸ what are some fond memories your muse has? Most of them are going to be with his family and friends. Being able to spend time with Levana is always a bright spot for him, since they can't be around each other often/for long periods of time. Meeting Sarakael in each life is another one. A lot of memories that stick with him especially vividly have music incorporated in them somehow, too!

▸ is it easy for your muse to kill? Absolutely not. At least, when he's in control of his curse. Ezra will, even in a life or death fight, try everything he can to avoid killing someone. If it's the only option, or it absolutely comes down to "I'm about to die if I don't act right now", then he will...but it'd only be as a last resort.

▸ what’s it like when your muse breaks down? His curse would activate. High amounts of stress, or an especially volatile emotional state in general will lead to that. So a full on breakdown? Yeah, he'd absolutely be falling into the curse.

▸ is your muse capable of trusting someone with their life? Yes, though that would also mean trusting that they'll be able to handle him when he loses control...which is enough to make him reluctant. He'd still trust them, but if he were ever to hurt someone that he trusted that much, even accidentally? He'd never let himself live it down.

▸ what’s your muse like when they’re in love? Very soft and affectionate. Constantly talking to them because they make him feel good, going out of his way to do or get nice things for them. He's a very sunny person normally, but he's anywhere near the person/people he loves? It would draw pretty much anyone's attention with how much he would just be radiating happiness and adoration.

#[Ezra -headcanons-] #[Ezra -extra-] #Honestly the fond memories one was more difficult for him that I thought that it would be #I'm not sure why though?

[kate-m-art]

was gonna wait til i had more sketches but Im having a lot of feelings and want an excuse to ramble somewhere so ajdkfk Lir and her dad TvT

Guess first just wanna say how much I love the relationship between Lir and her dad TvT She looks just like him, they have the same hair, same eyes, same face (she got her mama's height tho.) Her dad was the one in her family most fluent in sign next to her, and Little just loved him sm and trusted him w everything. When Eileen got upset she'd gravitate more towards her Mom, but Lir tended to go to Dad. It's not like he always knew how to help or what to say (especially with the magic struggles that came from his wife's blood) but he always did his best to make sure she knew she was loved regardless of what she could or couldn't do. And like, she was his littlest in age, smallest in size,, she had the most trouble with controlling her magic and refused to even try for a long time (it scared her a lot.) Just,, Protective Dad Instinct ™️ was there w all his kids but kinda even stronger with her and they were so close, she took after him sm, sass and all carried on his legacy and all that and crying TvT

Even longer rambles incoming because I need to get it out apologies in advance you guys don't have to read all this XD

Look legit can't remember how much I've said here but I have a lot of feelings over the concept of a dad!Link, especially with one as seasoned as the Hero of Legend TvT

His first adventure when he was a kid had him witnessing his uncle die, being hunted by knights, navigating a dark world on his own, changing forms, navigating 12 separate dungeons, being too late to save the princess at first, facing a sorcerer and then the embodiment of ancient evil itself. Just that alone is so much, affected him a lot with him being so young. And like he didn't even have to, no one forced his hand. Gets to me that he's one of the Links just motivated by *how much* he wants to help others (not a sibling or village being attacked, he and the Hero of Hyrule were just asked if they'd help and they both saw it through to the end even without a companion pushing them along.)

And then guy doesn't just stop there, he keeps traveling and helps other kingdoms who need it. Has an amazing head on his shoulders to be able to navigate oracle games dungeons. So much gets thrown his way and then on top of it all he has to defeat the evil he already thought he had destroyed; he has to live the rest of his life with the knowledge it's possible for Ganon to be resurrected, he's already seen it happen. And I guess I think that really shakes him up even more, because in Links awakening, facing Ganon again is his worst nightmare...

Gosh idk Arin touches on it a lot in Autumn's story but ye legacy hero of legend didn't have an easy time laying Hero duties and fears aside to live his own life after everything. He still has a fear deep down that he'll be called away from his wife and kids to face a threat only he can take care of. He and his wife argue about it, guys torn between being asked to keep his kingdom (and by extension his family) safe and being there for his wife and kids. Eventually he told Zelda he'd laid down his sword and wouldn't fight himself anymore but still gets called to the castle occasionally to help advise and strategize with the queen,, and always a bit of uneasiness in the back of his mind that things will take a turn for the worse and he won't have a choice anymore.

And like his fears leave an impact on his family too,, even though he stepped back from the role and title to be a dad he's still afraid that once he's gone and won't be able to protect them, others will hurt his family because of who he was. Guy has *everything* from his adventures hidden away, the only other person in the world who knew where it all was Maggie. When he passed, the crown took care of the body as per his wishes. Guy wasn't buried with anything that would identify him or trace him back to his family,, not even his wedding band. None of his family, even Mags, knew where he was laid to rest, and for generations (even through to Autumn's time) they kept quiet that they were descendants of the Hero.

Gosh idk just really gets to me how torn he was and how roles of Hero and Dad never quite meshed together. Also gets to me how much he just wanted to be a dad and be there for his kiddos, how he threw his whole heart into it, and how much he gave up to try to do that. Loves his little ones with his entire being and would've done anything for them. And like guy didn't always get it right but he tried so hard and TvT

Just Some Guy, but a guy who had the biggest heart in spite of a sharp and gruff exterior and *holds gently.* He didn't want to leave a trace of his life as a hero behind, the kingdom could make what it wanted from the stories, but his family kept the legacy of who he really was as a person and as their dad alive and idk,,, I Just Have A Lot Of Feelings TvT

(Also if you made it this far I am so sorry, giving you cookies and so many hugs 🫂)

#you guys def dont have to read all that XD #i hope you at least enjoy the sketches tho #loz legacy #dad link #hero of legend #lir #kate rambles #<----- really mean it this time this got to be A Lot #but got feels out so like worth it TvT #these guys really get to me arin could tell you im just a mess of feelings so often ajdkdk #loz #loz au #legacy link #i uhhh probably shouldnt tag games cause post-game au but game events played a big role in what came after akdkfk #yeahhhh #im so sorry ajdjfj #im such a mess rn ajdjf #quick sketch #dad and daughter