#but I can imagine something similar to this working as a sort of cold open

[livesincerely]

possessive jack in the merlin au in these trying times??? (no pressure though i love your work sm any writing of yours at all is enough fuel for weeks worth of my bedtime stories)

The upcoming tourney means that training has increased tenfold, which means that the amount of time David spends repairing, cleaning, and polishing Jack’s armor and weapons has also increased tenfold.

Granted, it could be worse: David’s managed to pawn off the worst of his duties to poor Garth so that he can focus on tasks too important to leave to others—namely the aforementioned armor and weapons. Which is why he’s sitting on the edge of the training grounds with a pair of pliers and a set of Jack’s chainmail, carefully replacing any rusted or damaged links with fresh ones, a gentle breeze tempering the worst of the afternoon sun.

Jack is properly in his element out here, watching with a keen eye as the knights run through their drills, calling out corrections and critiques in equal turns. Every now and then he demonstrates a particular sequence himself, the edge of his blade glinting majestically as it slices through the air.

David’s attention is so thoroughly split between his work and keeping watch over his Most Royal and Most Exasperating Pain in the Ass that it takes him a moment to realize that the shadow that’s fallen over him isn’t from a cloud, but from someone sidling up beside him.

“Uh, hello?” he says, squinting up at the unexpected company. “Can I help you?”

“I certainly hope so,” the stranger says. He’s dressed in a dark tunic with a sword sheathed across his hip, leather braces strapped around his wrists and a plate buckled across his chest. “Do you know if visiting knights are allowed to train on the grounds or should I find somewhere else to run through some drills.”

“That’s a question quite a bit above my station,” David says, recognizing the crest stamped into his armor as from one of the northern delegations. “Sir Sean or Sir Albert would be the ones to ask, to be sure, but in my experience the answer will likely be no. I think there’s a separate area set up in the East Courtyard.”

“Could I trouble you to show me the way?” the knight asks. “I find myself becoming hopelessly lost when I try to navigate the citadel alone.”

“I’m sure I could slip away for a moment,” David agrees, setting aside his pliers. He glances back across the training yards and Jack seems more than occupied, walking one of the younger knights through a disarming sequence. “I understand more than most how difficult it can be to find your way around the castle.”

“Thank you, kindly.” He offers David a hand up, and once he’s on his feet, he bows low over their clasped hands and presses a kiss to David’s knuckles. “I am Sir Camden of Rhodia, and graciously in your debt.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, really,” David says, blushing furiously at the gesture. “My name is David.”

“David,” Sir Camden repeats. “A lovely name for an even lovelier creature.”

He offers his arm as David tries not to stanmer, thoroughly flustered in the face of such an unexpected compliment.

“There’s no need for flattery,” David says, hoping he doesn’t sound as ruffled as he feels. “I’ve already agreed to show you the way.”

“There’s always time for flattery,” Sir Camden disagrees lightly, his expression bright with good humor. “Especially for one as clearly deserving of it as you.”

“O-oh, well—“

“David!”

David turns towards the shout to find Jack stalking toward him at a steady clip, jaw clenched and brow furrowed.

“And where do you think you’re going? We’ve still got several more hours of training,” Jack informs him sharply, as if David wasn’t already fully aware.

“Prince Johnathan,” Sir Camden says, sinking into a deep bow at Jack’s approach. “It’s an honor to finally meet you, I am Sir Camden if Rhodia.”

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” Jack says, crisply polite. He’s got his war face on for some inexplicable reason, the look in his eyes as hard as stone. “And why, exactly, are you attempting to abscond with my manservant?”

“My apologies,” Camden says carefully, his eyes flitting uncertainly between David and Jack and back again. “David had just agreed to escort me to the secondary training grounds—I’m afraid I’m still at a loss when it comes to navigating the castle grounds. Perhaps, if he could be spared for a few minutes—“

“He cannot,” Jack cuts in firmly, offering no further explanation. “However, I’m sure Sir Anthony would be more than happy to show you.”

Tony steps forward as if summoned from thin air, face settled in a polite mask. “It’s right this way.”

“Of course,” Sir Camden acquiesces, nodding politely at the clear dismissal. “Thank you, my lord.”

Jack doesn’t respond, returning Camden’s farewell with a curt nod of his own. The moment the two of them are out of earshot, David swats at Jack’s arm.

“What was all that about?” he demands.

“Getting friendly with the visiting nobles, are we?” Jack asks with a scowl. “I thought you were convinced that one of them was some kind of assassin in disguise?”

“I was just being nice! He’s the one that came up to me,” David defends, though he’s not quite sure what it is he’s supposed to be defending. “And it would’ve been a great way to gather information on the delegation from Rhodia if you hadn’t interrupted.”

“Oh, is that what they’re calling it now?” he mutters. “Because Sir Camden,” —Jack spits the man’s name like it’s the vilest of curses— “seemed interested in a lot more than a friendly escort.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” David informs him, rolling his eyes.

“I’m being— I’m being ridiculous?” Jack somehow manages to make sputtering look handsome and regal because he’s an ass that way. “If he’d taken any more liberties he might as well have asked for your favor!”

“Oh, please,” David scoffs. “As if I’d give my favor to anyone but—“

He stops, the rest of the words caught in his throat.

Jack wheels on him like a hunter who’s finally caught wind of his prey. The look in his eyes has shifted somehow, that flinty gaze settling into something softer, but no less intense, his irises glinting like twin flames.

“Anyone but…?” Jack echoes softly.

David takes a deep breath, his heart hammering against his rib cage. “You’re impossible,” he murmurs.

“I could say the same thing about you,” Jack replies, and he reaches up, catching the edge of David’s neckerchief between his thumb and forefinger.

“Jackass.”

“Smartass.”

They share a smile, only for the two of them.

Finally, Jack says, “Back to work, Jacobs. And don’t let me catch you flirting with any more visiting knights.”

“So, the Manhattan knights are fair game?” David jokes.

Jack’s smile sharpens. He tugs at David’s neckerchief: just the once, just enough for the fabric to bite into his skin.

“The Manhattan knights know better,” he corrects.

And with that parting shot, he saunters away.

#newsies #jack kelly #davey jacobs #javid #*editor's note #*the writing desk #*ask #bits & bobs #merlin au #I’m not sure if or how this scene fits into the main merlin au I’m working on #but I can imagine something similar to this working as a sort of cold open #anyway #hope you enjoy!!

[sneepseverus]

Stages of Snape Falling in Love

I had this post sitting in my drafts for a few months and decided to finally finish it. Feel free to add your own thoughts hehe

He's vaguely interested in them as a person.

This feeling is extremely rare for him; most people give him the ick, whether it's considered justified or not. Perhaps they talk too loudly while standing right next to him, chew with their mouth open, are too energetic for him, or are just generally unlikable. Even if they don't have a particularly negative trait, they probably aren't special enough for him to care about.

But then comes along that one person who's actually pleasant to be around. They are aware of their surroundings, humble or at least confident without being cocky, don't push him to engage in small talk or meaningless social interactions, and are overall a decent human being.

At this point, Snape doesn't know much about them other than the fact that they aren't insufferable, but he finds himself staring at them from a distance and listening to their conversations with others without engaging with them one-on-one.

Of course, he would never admit to himself that he sort of, kind of, maybe likes them and instead ignores these feelings.

He becomes irritated by their mere presence.

Maybe they laugh a little too sweetly, maybe they smile a bit too brightly, maybe they're overly kind to everyone they meet, maybe they share the same sense of dry, sarcastic humor, maybe they are highly knowledgeable in a certain field, maybe they're just too perfect! They really need to fucking tone down the likableness for him. It's irrational, but he doesn't know this yet because everything he does is logical, right?

He comes up with excuses and tries to find their faults instead because no one can be perfect. If they trip, they're clumsy and don't pay enough attention. If they need help with something, they're incompetent. If they're kind to everyone they meet, they're naive. If they put effort into their appearance, they're shallow.

Or if they're exactly like him, then he hates them because, well, he hates himself.

Somehow, he realizes he's wrong and tries to make things right.

If he is called out for being too judgmental or makes them upset, he actually feels terrible. He sits at his desk alone, trying to complete work, but he can only think about how much he hurt them.

If he never actually did anything to them, he would eventually come to his senses and still feel like an ass for thinking negatively of them.

Either way, he would would apologize for giving them the cold shoulder (it wouldn't sound very emotional, but it would certainly be sincere), and he would learn to be more patient with them.

He greets them when they pass by each other and finds that he actually likes talking to them. He normally doesn't like small talk, but he enjoys hearing the sound of their voice. If they share similar interests, he would have long talks with them without realizing how much time has passed. At this point, though, he doesn't think too much about his feelings and simply believes he's being cordial.

His thoughts become completely occupied with this person.

All of a sudden, he finds himself thinking about them, especially when they aren't around. He's very observant and can easily imagine them and their idiosyncrasies even if they aren't right in front of him. He tries to focus on whatever he is doing at hand, but they still manage to slip into his mind. "Why am I thinking about them so much?" he wonders. "They're just an acquaintance!" Deep down he knows he likes them, but he's so in denial he won't even consider that he may.

When he realizes he's thinking about them when they are around, he feels as though he just committed a crime.

He even begins to have dreams about his crush (a word he would never use to describe his feelings, but let's be honest; he has a crush!).

He tries to avoid them out of fear of being overbearing, but his efforts backfire.

The thing is, he wouldn't like someone unless they showed some level of interest in the first place. So if he tries to avoid them, they'll end up finding a way back to him.

If they're a colleague, they drag him out of his office to share a meal or have a conversation, no matter how "busy" he claims to be.

If they met him outside of Hogwarts, they send him a letter asking him where he is and if he would like to catch up.

Of course, he can't say no, so he accepts their invitations to spend time together.

Despite already being somewhat close, he's incredibly nervous. He fears that they can somehow read his thoughts, even though he's a highly skilled Occlumens and always maintains a stoic expression. He finds it difficult to maintain eye contact because if he stares too long and too deeply, he knows he'll let his guard down. He's not ready for them to even wonder if he has romantic feelings.

Eventually, he reaches his breaking point.

He can no longer deny it. He likes them. Now, there are a few ways this could happen.

They touch him. Accidentally or intentionally. Maybe it's a light brush against his arm. Maybe it's a hug. He's so touch-starved that any sort of physical contact will make his heart burst out of his chest and fall to the ground.

They confess to him. "Severus, I've really enjoyed the time we've been spending together. I like you," they reveal. It leaves him speechless. He'll get back to them in 5-7 business days.

If the feelings are one-sided, then it may be a bit harder for him to realize where his heart lies. But something about their smile, their laugh, their sense of humor, or just anything that is so characteristically them makes him finally understand that yes, he does like them.

Even though he wouldn't know how to proceed, it feels like a weight has lifted off his shoulders. He can finally admit to himself that he does have warm feelings for this person. And it makes a lot of sense! There is no one else who gives him the same level of grace, patience, understanding, and friendship. At this point, it's so much more than a simple crush. "Is this what love feels like?" he asks himself. Instinctively, he thinks, "Yes." The "rational" side of him tries to tell himself that it's not, but he ends up ignoring that part of him. He finally lets himself feel and admits to himself that he's in love.

Now, what happens after? Well, that's a post for another time.

#snape #snape headcanons #snape fluff #snape love #pro snape #severus snape #severus snape headcanons #severus snape fluff #severus snape love #pro severus #pro severus snape

[dairy-farmer]

I imagine? It's REALLY hard for Clark to find someone both willing and ABLE to have sex with his Alien Dick self? Sure, every one THINKS they want to have sex with Superman. But they are imagining a human dick in that suit. The sort of give a human dick HAS.

Reality is totally different.

We're talking tentacles. Little ones to spread and probe, and the big nubby one to writhe and thrust DEEP. We're talking stored INSIDE his body, things unfolding to let them out. People spook. It's hurtful.

Clark gets it. Sex probably just isn't in the cards for him, you know. But he wishes it could be. Wishes he could HAVE that closeness. That pleasure and warmth. That intimacy.

Then he becomes friends with Bruce. It's great.

Becomes like an Uncle to Dick. To Jason.

Jason dies.

Bruce spirals and Clark doesn't know what to do. His friend gets a new son. Slowly starts getting better. Stabilizing. Clark is happy for him. He is!

But? He notices Bruce isn't getting back in the dating scene. Like he had been. He's just PRETENDING too. Clark gets worried. Starts paying attention. Hears something he shouldn't. Something damning.

Grunts of pleasure, the wet slap of flesh. High little "Ah, ah, ah!"s in a voice he RECOGNIZES. Dirty praise dripping from his friends mouth. ROBIN's voice gasping and begging for more. Whining as he comes apart on his mentors cock. As Bruce KEEPS FUCKING HIM.

What in-!?

Clark is stunned. Baffled! Have you gone INSANE!? Confronting him after the next meeting only leads to Bruce staring at him for a long moment, before gesturing for him to follow. A side room. No one can overhear.

Bruce. EXPLAIN.

Bruce does. And it echoes damningly similar to the thoughts Clark has had all his life. Alone. No one will ever want him. Broken. Warmth. Closeness and trust. Bruce hammers it out, into the cracks in Clark's heart. Before he can rally, because this is wrong. They both KNOW this! Before he can rally?

You can have him too.

Devastating.

Don't DO that, Bruce. Don't offer hope in things that are wrong.

But he does, damn him. Stalks out like a shadow, leaving Clark to stew in it. To go back to his cold, empty apartment. And about his cold, empty day. Trying not to think about it. About how WARM he'd feel. How tight.

How this could be Bruce reaching out, at long last.

And eventually? Even he breaks down. The cold and the exhaustion get to him. He just wants CONNECTION. To feel GOOD.

And Bruce greets him like a friend. Tim, who he never really spend time with, all but climbs in his lap. There is good food, warmth, laughter. And eventually, time for bed. Bruce kissing Tim's head and telling him to be good for Clark. Like Clark is doing nothing more then babysitting.

His heart is pounding. What is he DOING?

But Tim just grins and impishly says that because he has superstrength, that means he has to carry him. He does. All the way to his room. Tim shucking his clothes and already talking about what sort of things he snuck in for Clark. Lubricants, mostly.

Moment of truth.

Clark gets undressed. No flinch, no shock, just interest. And it breaks some last reservation he has to peices. He has Tim on the bed in a blink of an eye. Is kissing him, careful as he plunders that little mouth. Feels him squeak and jolt, as his tentacles start exploring where they'll enter. Finding his clit and grabbing hold to tease it.

After that, it's a mess of spreading and squirming. Tentacles plunging deep and rubbing as they explore, softening him up to make room for the big one. Holding him open to take the almost unbearably nubbed main shift. As it writhes and squirms deep to start thrusting.

The boy in his arms crying out and desperately rocking, trying to adjust. Gently holding him still and mowing him back and forth like a toy, while he begs for more, harder. So tight. Soaking wet and life changing.

If he's careful, he can work each and every one into that tight little body, he's sure of it.

It would take HOURS.

He cradles the precious little thing in his arms and let's himself cum BUCKETS into that slowly fucked sloppy, perfect little hole. Gently RUINS him. Presses kisses and praise to his whining, tear stained face. Tells him its okay to be tired, sleep. Clark's got him. Shhhhh.

It's three more times before he can convince himself to stop. Even though Tim has passed out from exhaustion. Poor kid IS base line human. Clark promises himself to do better. Pulls out with the wettest sound he's ever heard. He's probably ruined the bed.

It still take him seconds to clean both it AND Tim. Fly them over to Bruce's room.

Tuck Tim in the middle and slide into bed. Bruce looking far to smug to be asleep. Yeah, yeah, you were right. Again.

He gets the answer for the question he's to afraid to ask. Yes. He can come fuck Tim when ever he wants. House is always open. Their bed, too.

Clark? Has a good friend. He'll take you up on that offer.

Starting in the morning. Wanna watch?

-🐼🐼🐼

bruce offering and sharing tim with clark 😍❤️❤️❤��

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #brutim #clarktim

[kijosakka]

Thoughts. okay so the total drama drama drama drama island special is interesting mainly bc of team e-scope but im going to take a moment here to ramble about his dynamic with other people here,,

(oh and i didn't have anywhere really to slot it into the other post or segue into it here but dodgebrawl as a Moment demonstrates how [this AU] noah can play the social game, just in a very very different way than how it's normally seen.

he knows what he's doing is going to bother his team and incentivize them to vote, i'd say in this au he even plays up the cockiness and makes veiled personal slights against specific people

(mainly those who would be annoyed enough to vote him off, see: heather, justin, leshawna, cody/trent to some extent if he said smth about gwen? < and gwen herself in that scenario. and to another extent beth, since hes playing up his outright mean traits, which would make lindsay vote with her. i dont think he would do anything specific to/with owen or izzy, since he may see izzy as too volatile and owen too genuine)

in the opposite way of whats expected, sure, but it is a social play. he can pick apart what these people are and what they show and push at it to achieve his own ends (and maybe its even some sort of way for him to regain control in this fundamentally uncontrollable situation he's found himself in; he can be the punishment in foucalt's imagining, to a much smaller degree))

so his teammates,,, do not like him tbh. his flagrant display during dodgeball and everyone being pissed at him after the fact is true in this AU, just coming with different motivations. even after the fact when the frustration of everyone fizzles out, hes still majorly offputting because of his detachedness, and deliberately makes his shown traits very unpalatable to experience in person combined with that.

the only two exceptions are izzy and owen respectively: owens mostly coming from a place of genuineness and im going to say while he wouldnt be able to verbalize it, in some manner owen would clock noahs behavior as a defense mechanism. maybe in the sense of 'hes just scared to open up to people!!' or something similar, but he definitely has a lot more faith that noah really isnt that cold and flat.

[*]izzy feels much the same -- except maybe it comes off more to her as strategic. izzy can act, and might recognize that in noah. if you wanted to you could write this in as to why she was eager to swap teams in the first episode, but it wouldnt change that he does get eliminated and thats all she sees of him until the special -- which, her intrigue in his lacking and the fact that it apparently wasnt strategic to get him further in the game, could help explain why she picks him in the team-up.

[*i have soooo much to say about izzy in this au actually. but ill save it for a diff post]

and speaking of the team-up: team e-scope!!!! :0

my au my rules eva and izzy became really good friends on the playa; izzy isn't afraid of eva (and curbing her anger before it reaches a boiling point) and eva is physically adept enough to restrain izzy from Shenanigans that might be a little Much. but eva doesnt really?? know anything about noah?? but izzy insists on teaming with him for the special (and unbeknownst to her noah wasnt even planning to participate initially) so he must be some level of Not Too Bad if izzy wants anything to do with him that doesnt seem to be related to tormenting the guy

and she thinks hes Fine. apathetic and detached and unpalatable (but then again, everyone in their little trio really is to some degree), but can kind of understand izzys intrigue: hes still A Guy, hes just hidden behind 20 layers of non-substance that are so offputting from the first meeting it makes people steer clear of him.

now with tddddi comes two other pertinent details: the justin line, and the Thing With Duncan.

i personally thing noahs 'he's the anti-me' line is really funny in the context of canon but if you squint it kinda works here? wherein justin is non-speaking yet flaunts himself to be the center of attention and clearly shows intent and capacity to scheme (underdeveloped or no, see: awakeathon), whereas noah speaks a lot yet lets himself fade into the background, showing vague hints of the capacity to scheme but no intention or palpable ambition behind it.

^ am i reaching? maybe. the other option here is noah somehow has seen him in-person before on a modeling or red carpet kind of gig and dislikes him on principle because of it/its a jab at it (smth smth they are both opposite ends of the same industry? justin is the face of it in a manner where noah stays behind the scenes and out of sight)

and the thing with duncan,, hear me out here okay noah does his whole song and dance, goes up to him and patronizes him, and duncan retaliates. however, he curses like a sailor and in noah's head has ruined the footage, therefore instead of further retaliating and potentially invoking actual physical harm he just. doesnt react. at all. duncan looks up at him and hes just dead-eyed staring down at him -- and then he leaves.

^ the scene has been ruined, and everyone else is doing so much that theres no reason to play it up any more. duncan and him arent plot important like how heather and lindsay were, theres no reason for the crew to painstakingly edit his swearing out. they just wont let it reach the final cut. duncan is understandably very confused by this, but at that point noah was already gone to find eva and izzy again (< this is when the cast having a running bet that noahs and android becomes Not a Joke)

but life goes on!!! and in the worlds worst comedy of errors (for noah), izzy ends up dragging him along into the lake, thereby leaving him as a confirmed member of the next season.

^ noah is so angry at this. popping blood vessels. he argues with chris endlessly, straight frothing at the mouth at only having two days of real reprieve before he has to deal with the Same Shit again. and chris gets this, to some degree, but also knows that if theres no explanation for noahs non-appearance to hand the producers, theyll be pissed (since all things considered, noahs pretty damn popular among the fans)

luckily for him, courtney just filed a lawsuit against the show!! and since chris is busy running said show, the producers do not want to deal with it and are willing to hand off the case to anyone else -- hence, chris officially signs noah on as his PA, and noah takes over the court settlements and whatnot.

< though i do imagine the producers would see it as a 'get out of the show' scheme, and thereby push way harder for his involvement in WT as a result

but noah does get a break!!! for now, at least.

#formal thanks to ophe for the cast having a running joke about him being an android #that was Not my idea #before-bed rambling. again #wrote this post eating a sleeve of saltines it was an Experience #soooooo much to say about izzy and her dynamic with noah. sososososo much #is the justin thing reaching? yeah probably idc #character analysis #total drama #td noah #dramaturgyAU #if someone wants to takw this idea and run go ahead im begging someone to share my fascination for the concept of panopticon

[wiihtigo]

wiihtigo.tumblr.com/post/743934944739557376/ okay enough about Nell dying. what about that bad ending 2 with Casey dying 👀

grimacing at you sort of mournfully

similar to nell I think it happens during some big event- not as big as a crisis event alien invasion like nell but a citywide threat..(otherwise known as a regular tuesday in gotham), nell is out as ladybug helping out along with some gotham regulars (i imagine batman and nightwing are skulking around) shes not working WITH them exactly. theyre just out and shes also out at the same time and theyre fighting the same things. you see.

casey tags along sometimes when ladybug is out doing her thing because she lowkey doesnt respect nells job and thinks they can just combine patrolling and hanging out, BUT this time she actually stayed home. shes just laying on the couch, maybe scrolling her phone or finding something to watch on tv or dozing off into a nap when something hits their building. For the kind of big show-y jackass-y destruction thats happening in the city ive had it in mind this is a joker stunt. Not that thats super important even, hes not directly involved with casey blowing up. Anyways something hits their building and casey is crushed or...pierced by debris. She manages to fish out to phone (now cracked to shit) and calls nell for help (her reasoning being that nell will treat her as priority and come get her and help her ASAP meanwhile the ambulance's and police in gotham are pretty busy already)

Luckily, Nell picks up and immediately hears something is wrong even though casey (delirious and in shock) does not open with "there is a wooden beam lodged in my ribs come fucking get me" and instead is like "um...are you almost finished with work i think you should come home now. someone broke your window. its cold in here" but her voice is really strained and shes breathing kind of hard.

Nell is already speeding away but hes really far from their apartment and these stupid henchmen just keep getting in the way and its hard to keep casey talking when casey is usually the one DOING THE TALKING. but they do. keep talking together i mean. nell is kind of short with her at first because hes also kind of freaking but once casey starts panicking near the end when hes starting to realize hes cooked he starts lying to him telling him that hes almost there hes almost up the stairs and to just hang on a second more (hes like 20 blocks away)

at first casey was like. freshly in shock. so she wasnt talking about things like they happened. she asks nell to come home and clean up the glass on the floor because if she looked down and sees the blood coming out of her she was going to flip out or something. but the longer nell takes the more she starts to get scared and desperate and whiny (notice how i can find ways to insult her even as shes dying..now thats love) the more nell lies to her the more her solid faith in ladybug saving her ungrateful self is wavering. shes never let her down before! casey always follows nell/ladybug around and gets into trouble and nell always picks up her by the scruff of her neck and drags her back home. its basically what their relationship was built on, nell taking a random criminal home and promising to keep her on the up and up. nell is big and tough and strong and confident and independent and stable. these are all qualities casey really liked about nell right from the get go and its why, aside from being given a rent free place to live in, she stuck around this long even through the less desirable traits of hers and how insufferable she finds her sometimes.

in her fear (and pain) she starts swinging wildly between anger and pleading like "why arent you here yet!??! do you think im gonna die?? are you even coming?? are you doing this on purpose because youre mad at something i did.? WELL IM SORRY! FUCK! WILL YOU PLEASE COME GET ME NOW!!!!!!' (im sure this isnt doing anything to help nells stress levels. can someone tell her to relax?)

Nell.....did the smartest thing anyone has ever done in the history of the world, and before, when he took the call and nightwing noticed his alarm and comes down to say "hey is everything ok--" he brushes him off and speeds off to go deal with casey himself. Because casey is his responsibility and he doesnt really like nightwing. or any of the bats. nell is self sufficient, over confident, and (quoting from marty) "she has tunnel vision and chronic independence syndrome and by viewing caseys wellbeing as her own responsibility she has inadvertently doomed them" (unquote) (crowd booing sfx)

he could have asked for help from someone who could fly, or asked oracle to patch him through to an ambulance to get to the apartment faster than she could, or accepted nightwings offer to help knowing that hes more experienced than she is as a hero or done any number of things that would have to involve swallowing his pride, but he didnt and when he arrives back home casey is already gone

to be fair she wasnt really thinking straight. but wow, way to go nell. you really fucked that one up. can we cancel this heinous heinous bug?

when i compare our intrepid heroes death scenes in my mind i lol bcuz nell is like (coughing up blood) fuuuck i cant believe i loved that stupid girl. oh well. bleh. but casey in her last moments is like NO NO NO NO NO I DONT WANT TO DIE STOOOOP WTF WTF WTF

i think shes so panicked and frantic and scared in her last moments the complete opposite of nell accepting death and feeling content she did everything she could have (at least in regards to crimefighting that day)

she probably didnt even think it was a possibility until the last minute. shes so self confident. too self confident. some might even call it...stupidity.

in the way nell is letting her eyes creak shut thinking about a phantom image of casey and is just filled with regretful sadness, casey is not thinking fondly on ANY memory shes clutching onto her phone and wishing nells voice would jump out of the speakers and be there in front of her and carry her away and keep taking care of her FOREVER i mean keep financially supporting her until shes casted into the new scream film. she cant accept shes going to die. she wont accept it. she did so much hard work for so long to make something of her life and it was all just going to end in one night...she finally found a friend she could stomach the company of, actually enjoyed the company of, and it was all for nothing. AGAIN! these are depths of despair only previously felt when booster FIRED HER! she doesnt ..blame nell, exactly. well she kind of does. but its different than it was with booster. she put the full brunt of blame entirely on booster to shield herself from the possibility .. maybe her own choices and actions have something to do with the outcomes in her life? (NO NOT POSSIBLE) she is angry at nell for not being there. but shes also sad and confused and scared and all these mixed up emotions and even though shes angry at nell Somewhat she also...eugh....CARES about nell, and she thinks that nell also cares about her. (unclear in what way. and now we'll never know..SAD) so she isnt casting hexes on her like she had with booster, who she knew didnt really give her the time of day like ever. she just wishes she wouldve been there with her

but when have i ever given casey anything she wanted.

again, i advise you to go knock down martys door if you want more nell deets but im told ted and michelle support him through this (and isnt that more than casey ever got in the canon end? see..not so bad)

im also told he doesnt tell spider, caseys mom, about casey dying until 8 months after the fact. which im sure just about drives that poor woman over the edge. nell bishop are you ready to die..?

#koby you never add readmores you always just leave us to the dogs what changed BItch im scared #asks #casey

[alexthesillybilly]

What if springtrap x reader but I write it from springtraps POV idk I wanna study him this is rlly similar to another thing I wrote btw if it feels familiar :P idk why but I love writing this exact scene lmao

God, how long has it been? Months? Years? Decades? How was I supposed to know? I haven't spoken to anyone since I was left in here, and I probably never will again. I'm still trying to figure out what to do to pass the time. At first my methods were a little more about escaping, but clawing at the walls and slamming my self against the door was both very painful, and was also not doing anything for me, so I stopped doing those pretty quickly. Then I remembered there were arcade machines in this room! But then I remembered that this is the parts and service room and they were out of order. And very unplayable. But that didn't stop me, I ended up disassembling and putting them back together a few times.

That got boring, too.

Now I'm not really sure what to do. I spend a lot of my time either fidgeting with loose wires or pacing around like some kind of scared animal. After I stopped having the indescribable dread of realizing I was trapped here, it changed to craving something. Anything, really. Whether it was hearing music from outside, seeing a color other than pitch black, feeling anything other than the freezing cold tile floor and my own pain.

I think I mostly craved company, though.

I was never into psychology, but speaking from experience, I'm pretty sure that completely depriving a human of any communication or entertainment for years (decades??) will fuck someone up.

There's some sort of noise around the door. It's happened a few times, usually someone who broke in trying to get into the room before discovering it's boarded up. I don't know who boarded up this room, but I'd like to have a talk with them. Only a little murder included. So I don't get my hopes up too much. They're not going to get in.

So maybe I get a little excited when for the first time, I actually DO hear the door crack open and light pour in.

Holy shit, it's happening.

I can finally get out of here.

I felt nearly manic at the sight. So imagine my thoughts when someone walked in.

I freeze. What do I do?

There is so much I want to say.

Can I even talk?

I don't know anymore.

Who is this?

I try to look at them without moving. Nobody I recognize. That's probably a good thing.

If I move, I might scare them.

On one hand, then I'd be able to leave.

But on the other hand, I need to talk to someone, ANYONE, so bad that I can't let then leave already.

So I stay still while they approach.

They must not be deterred by the sight of me, surprisingly, because they crouch down beside me like I'm not... like this.

"What the hell are you?" They laugh under their breath. Wow, okay. First words spoken to me in this long. I deserve that, though.

I need to talk so bad but how am I supposed to talk to anyone now? I don't even remember how it works, let alone if I physically could. I pray they'll ask a yes-or-no question soon.

They stand back up.

No. No, no, no, not already. They can't leave. I have to risk it.

I try my best to tell them not to go. It comes out as more of a noise you'd make on your deathbed, but it's enough to get them to stop in their tracks.

"No. Nope, I am NOT being your horror movie protagonist who dies first, nope. Not today." They turn to run out the door. This time I'm prepared. Kind of.

"No-" I manage to choke out before realizing how much it hurts to speak, and very pathetically falling against the wall in pain. I have to get the message through, though. "Don't go."

"Hooly shit." The person stares at me in horror. "I have so many questions."

Talking hurts so bad, but nothing hurts worse than my indescribable loneliness, so I'll just have to deal with that later. I have to say something.

"Me too."

#springtrap #fnaf 3 #springtrap x reader #self shipping community #fnaf f/o #fnaf #fnaf x reader #william afton x reader #yooo im writing!! #girl talk

[maochira]

(omg u can ignore this if u want i just wanted to interact with another fellow Dad! Ego enthusiast)

Just thinking about Dad! Ego and how he distances himself away from his child constantly due to Blue Lock and is always ignoring them and then the child has enough. Once Dad Ego has time to start spending time with his child again, they start purposefully being aloof and ignoring him to give him a taste of his own medicine and maybe even considering someone else as their father figure (Noel Noa… 👀). A whole punch to the stomach—

Like imagine how confused and hurt he’d be like ‘why is my child avoiding me?’

I actually got a super similar request like this last week!! Just haven't gotten around to writing it,, so before I let this one get drowned in my inbox, I'm doing it immediately after seeing the notification LMAO (also to the other anon who requested something similar, I'll write that later or tomorrow <3)

Requests open! - dad!Ego masterlist - regular masterlist

Tags: gn!Ego's child!reader, reader is a teenager, for logic purposes Ego is a bit older and I guess Noa as well?, a bit (a lot) of angst you guys know what I like to write

-during the entirety of the first until the third selection, up until the beginning of the Neo Egoist League, Ego was busy all the time. He never took any time off to spend with you and would send you away if you asked to talk to him

-that led to him neglecting you and not being there for you when you needed him. He also stopped telling you he was proud of your achievements and in general, he just became very emotionally absent towards you

-Ego was so focused on Blue Lock, he didn't notice how much damage that did to you

-when the Neo Egoist League started, Ego finally less work to do because the other coaches would be the ones occupied with the players instead. Sure, Ego still had work to do. But it became significantly less than before

-and out of nowhere, he tried being the nice and caring father he was prior to Blue Lock again. But you were scared of him switching back to only focusing on Blue Lock again, so out of self-protection to not get hurt like that another time, you were cold and absent towards your father

-it confused Ego, and he really tried putting more effort into you. But you were too emotionally absent towards him to give him another chance

-to improve your own soccer skills, you often joined Bastard München's training, and that's how you got somewhat close to Noa

-occasionally you were alone with Noa, and that's when he would ask you questions about your father. It doesn't take long until you open up about the way you've been neglected by Ego for the past months

-Noa doesn't really know what to think about that, but he has some sort of parental instinct that wants to be there for you

-Noa becomes a father figure to you. He's careful to not act like an actual father, but he does treat you more gently than he treats the Bastard München team

-after a few weeks, Ego sits down with you to properly talk about what's been going on. He intended it to be a calm conversation to fix things, but it escalated into a huge argument

-you and Ego have never had an argument as big as this before. But all the bottled-up frustration and pain inside of you is just too much to keep in now

-it's something you definitely regret at some point later, but you yell at Ego about how Noa is a much better father than he's been in the past month. And sure, in some way that's true, but Noa never intended to take a proper father-role for you

-hearing that is like a punch to the gut to Ego. He yells back at you, but not for long. After that he actually can't handle looking at you anymore, so he sends you to your room

-Ego thinks more about the way the last months had been. And he realizes you're right. And he also realizes the part about Noa is probably right as well. He hates himself for failing as a father like this, but he has no idea how to fix this

#bllk #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #ego x you #ego x reader #jinpachi ego x you #jinpachi ego x reader #ego jinpachi x you #ego jinpachi x reader #ego jinpachi #jinpachi ego #blue lock headcanons #bllk headcanons #noel noa #blue lock noa #blue lock ego #bllk ego

[coldhndss]

──★ ˙ ̟ !! Blue Lock Matchup No.1 @mimomis

Hello!! Thank you so so much for being my first matchup! For me, I decide characters based off who is most similar to you, then reversing the role and going for the exact opposite + making sure that it matches your personality based on the information I’ve been given. Also, thank you so much for basically matching the exact format I was looking for in a matchup <3

So, with that, I matched you with Rin Itoshi!

What did it for me, was the second part you sent in where you described yourself as ‘childish when you want to be, and that it’s terribly easy to make you smile or laugh’. I feel like Rin is easily misconstrued as a rude and unlikable person, but he wasn’t always like that; and I like to think that once he gets over this whole rivalry, he’ll most likely soften up again.

 ―୨୧⋆ ˚ “I like to read and watch documentaries in my free time.”

I think you and Rin would definitely bond over these types of things. The two of you would suggest things to each other and watch them in your spare time, or together. You’d tell him about a new film of sorts that is coming out, and he’ll tell you he somehow already has free  tickets to go see it. He comes off as the sort of person who doesn’t really care much for others, but still puts effort into the things he notices you enjoy. 

―୨୧⋆ ˚ “..come off as guarded and that glacier blue best represents me as a colour.”

Adding a colour that best represents you was super useful, as I think people can easily be matched to colours based off their personalities, and in this case, I think Rin would also be matched to the same kind of colour. This kind of colour can signify clarity, and open expression of your feelings. Although you and Rin may come off as guarded, I think he’d see parts of himself in someone like you, and it may help him strive for a change. Funnily enough it’s kind of poetic.

Your old-type interests and reserved nature (correct me if I’m wrong) would add to the maturity in a person that I personally think Rin likes to see. You two would really get along as your personalities don’t clash but are not the exact same in that regard. Rin would tell you about his worries and vent to you about things that he wouldn’t feel comfortable telling anyone else. In terms of a school setting, the two of you would walk to and home from school, stopping on the way to sit at a café and work on homework, or at a mini shop selling pricey stationery trinkets, books, pens, markers, journals and the like. Something would catch your eye, but you’d decide against it because you can’t afford to splurge right now. 

The next day you’d walk into school and find it in your locker, covered in baby blue gift wrapping and tied together with a shiny black bow. A tag hangs off the edge of the bow with his name written in a pretty font.

―୨୧⋆ ˚  “I also tend to oscillate between intentionally talking nonsensically and analysing/overthinking everything.”

Just as I think he would vent to you; he’d also be there for your little analyses sessions. He’d maybe even agree with some of the things you say and tell you not to worry about bothering him with your talks. He’d listen to you speak and nod or murmur in agreeance here or there, opting to stay silent and only listen to you speak over talking himself.

Rin would value you as a reliable person who’s feelings he could never bring himself to hurt. Even if he’s cold at times, and seemingly wouldn’t want to talk to anybody at all, he keeps it at bay when it comes to you as he wouldn’t even want to imagine hurting your feelings. You’ve been there for him when he really needed it, and he wants to do the same for you.

#coldhandsss #writing #blue lock #fluff #rin itoshi #blue lock x reader #bllk #blue lock matchups #blue lock boys #anime #manga

[gkt-tummyaches]

Would you mind sharing your thoughts on blossutch? if thats okay

more than okay !! blossutch is one of my favorite ships, but it's more like a softcore comfort deal, so this might be a little bland.

i think they're one of those couples that can have conversations with just a look. if they ever pursued a romantic relationship, they'd be the type to take it slow; one date after another, taking their time to really get to know each other - both as friends and as lovers, because both relationships are important to them.

they're both mediators in their separate sibling dynamics, but blossom takes her role as eldest seriously and doesn't really confide in people very much. i think butch's easy-going nature would give her the room she needs to open up, finally learn to rely on somebody rather than keep her feelings bottled up and freezing people out.

blossom and butch would take the time to create solid foundations. if not for the slow burn aspects of it - i do love the thought of mutual pining between them, but maybe having the maturity to recognize that neither are quite ready for something so heavy; maybe not feeling like they're good enough yet, and therefore take the time to work on themselves before reaching out for each other. - then because of a sense of 'time and place'.

i think attraction could start from as early as childhood. like a crush, that grows as they grow, kind of drawn into orbit. there's no rush. it gives them that time to carry out the aforementioned self-betterment.

but the attraction also being something spontaneous is fun too. that they spent years growing up in similar roles, with similar struggles; the irony of parallel lines never meeting is an interesting point of angst. in that scenario, i think butch finding some parts of himself mirrored in blossom (the numbness, the inability to reach out to somebody drifting away from you, the struggle for self-confidence,) would invoke the empathy needed for him to bridge the distance, but i don't think in that case it would be guaranteed that blossom would reciprocate.

overall, i like blossutch in a slow, syruppy kind of way. the kind of people that feel like an old married couple: like they've been together for as long as they've been alive. not soulmates, but fitting together so nicely that even if the romantic interest were to fade, they'd still be left as very good friends in the aftermath.

they may not have a lot of overlapping interests, and in some ways they're sort of at odds with each other (ie; butch being a high school dropout, blossom being an academic weapon,) but those kinds of things don't matter. they align on the important things: views on justice, on what kind of drink should have cold foam, on how to communicate with your loved ones.

there's a lot of things they can learn from each other too. i think that's where they benefit each other the most: not what they have in common, but what they have experienced that sets them apart from each other. they're from opposing sides in childhood.

butch is a perfect example of somebody failed by the system, rejected by the people who should've helped him, and left to slip through the cracks. he's the kind of person that blossom endeavors to help. his perspective on things is the insight she needs to do that.

and on the other side of things, blossom is somebody butch really admires. while she has her own struggles, there's an organic sense of optimism that brightens the world - she's not unrealistic, or idealistic, but her cold-cut determination to bring about good is,, refreshing. it's the kind of thing butch would need to pull himself up.

blossutch is just a feel-good ship for me all around. they bring to mind the image of lovers cozied up on the couch with blankets and fuzzy slippers, or pestering each other to go to bed when up at an unreasonable time. there's some silly unhealthy habits they probably enable in each other - such as all-nighters, energy drinks, binge-watching tv shows - and i imagine they probably bicker of stupid things that don't really matter.

it's just cute. they're cute. they're the couple you expect to outlive the end of the world, if that makes sense. whatever form that takes.

// i'm not really into the 'bad boy x nerd girl' characterizations of it i see floating around as much ? it always feels like it leans into the 'fixer' tropes, which i really dislike. imo it also makes blossutch feel flat. detracts from the kind of depth and dynamicity it could have if given the breathing room to have blossom and butch be fully fleshed-out, multidimensional characters before they get together, rather than being two undeveloped characters that become 'more' as a couple and 'less' when separate. i won't pretend i'm any better; i realize my own interpretation of the ship is kind of boring and uneventful too. if i ever actually wrote a plot-driven story around them, i'd hope that changes, but as i said at the start: this is more of a comfort for me than something i'm invested in for narrative and plot.

#blossutch #ppgxrrb #powerpuff blossom #blossom #rowdyruff butch #butch #ask #shipping discourse #they're so cute

[merakime]

Hi, I've been reading your work for a while and I think it's lovely. I'm a bit shy and embarrassed to make requests, but I really like your writting.

If it's not too much to ask, I could request Qanipalaat and his Operator!S/O giving each other gifts as a courtship, but being from different cultures, neither understand what each other's gifts mean, until suddenly it all clicks and they feel kind of silly that they didn't understand it before.

＃AS PER CUSTOM ! ft. qanipalaat

───── a / n: anon, oh my god …. ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) thank you so much !! i do not bite unless provoked i prommy … and this request is so so adorable i had to get to it FAST !! i hope i can do this justice … the cultural details i kept a little vague for your imagination, but i based qanipalaat’s side off of his promotion record mostly! ( the record is not a necessary read, but it might help understand a certain aspect better! )

no cw — word count: 742 — fluff !!

at first, you didn’t think too much of it. qanipalaat arrived at rhodes island with a bunch of gifts for everyone – charms and amulets, instruments and botanical specimens native to sami. you adored the instrument he had given you so excitedly, and decided to share with him some of your own culture. you can’t forget his expression when you handed him your gift – he looked a sort of starstruck.

his enthusiasm is almost contagious – he begins to bring in more gifts for everyone, and you are always overjoyed to give something back. his returns, to you, are even more anticipated – you wonder.. what has he got for you this time? you must prepare a gift yourself before he returns. you begin to dive deep into your research, trying to find more ways to convey your appreciation with your handicrafts! 

qanipalaat is fond of the little gifts you give him, he made space on a shelf to flaunt them! he doesn’t know exactly what they mean, but it’s the feeling that matters to him – he knows his culture is something deeply important to him, and he likes sharing this love with the people who helped his tribe. his culture, through his gifts, are pieces of him he entrusts to you – is it a similar sentiment to you? he wonders.

it becomes a little tradition of yours – though his gift-giving began to let up for the others overtime (after a certain box incident), for you he always had something when he came back from home. and you always make sure to make something for him, or bring something from back home.

one day he came back with a beautiful box – you braced yourself, the intricate carvings and linings making an unpleasant memory resurface.. but there was no smell coming from the box, other than a cold, fresh mist. a scent somewhat similar to qanipalaat himself, you noted. either way, you felt relief. 

“i brought you something!”, qanipalaat chimes, letting himself into your room.

a familiar tenderness washed over you with his voice. with time, it became one of your favorite things to hear. some kind of pavlov maneuver, you thought – that sentence alone, paired with his toothy grin and glimmering eyes, was more exciting than the gift itself. you missed him, truly.

behind your back, you squeeze the little craft you’ve made for him. 

“what is it?”, when you ask, it’s hard to keep your voice truly even. there’s that contagious excitement of his – it makes your throat waver. you find your eyes lingering on the intricate details of the box – you’ve never seen something like this, but you recognized the motifs and patterns in the carvings from other gifts he had given you.

the small box was sealed with a little plate of metal – he pushed it aside and opened the chest, and your mouth almost fell open with it. it looked like something much more valorous than all of his previous gifts. the amulet laid comfortably in a swab of fur, shiny silver sparkling in the light, looking freshly-faceted. 

you were smitten. you suppose that that was the final blow.

to everyone it was not a surprise when you two became official. the suspicion was already present – the reveal wasn’t particularly shocking. people were already used to your antics. that has its advantages – that means nothing much (in terms of treatment, at least) would change toward you two, so you could go about your routine in peace. your gift giving tradition persists.

though at one point, when you are revisiting your gifts – you notice something on the roof of the amulet box. you were so mesmerized by the silver glow that you didn’t notice the light inscription above said object – you recognized these letters, yes, it was sami script. you couldn’t read it, but now you were truly curious – why did you never ask what the gifts meant? silly you! in your excitement, it slipped your mind.. you begin to notice more details – there are some recurring words across the gifts. you have to ask him, now.

when you catch him again and you haul the question at him – that was the most flustered that you’ve seen qanipalaat. really, usually he was quick to bounce back, but your question had him entirely at loss. when he began to translate the words upon the gifts, many words of adoration, love and kind blessings, you feel like your face was lit aflame. you couldn’t respond when he looked back at you for a response, words stuck in your throat.

───── ending note: i hope you enjoyed this !! i tried my best in trying to make the experience a little more neutral on the readers part to allow more space to insert your own culture, i hope i succeeded ... ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ ) during production tumblr kept moving my "keep reading" tab and i almost ragequit twice but i powered through for qanipalaat.........

#✦ mari writes !! #arknights x reader #qanipalaat x reader

[terminallybrainrot]

Leander sex let's go

I can not believe I actually wrote this. Never thought I'd live to see the day I write smut of Prewett.

Semi-self indulgent Leander/Dominic (My MC from ItSoP)

M/M 18+ 2.2k

“Confringo!”

A quick protego saved him, sparks of red and yellow flashing against cold, dirt-covered stone. Leander was putting his all into this duel. He had finally worked up the courage to confront Sebastian, challenge him to a real one on one with Dominic there to see. The redhead spared a moment's glance at Blackwood while he had Sebastian levitating. The black-haired Slytherin boy was leaned against the stone wall to his left, a barely distinguishable smirk seen through swings of the large metal clock pendulum that separated them. And if Leander wasn’t mistaken, which he prayed to Merlin he wasn’t, there was a warmth to the boy’s face as well as the gold orbs pierced Prewett.

Leander turned back to the brunet who was still hovering, a scowl on his insufferable freckled face. Prewett finished the duel quickly, casting at Sallow until he was knocked back into the iron-barred partition behind him, falling to his knees and signalling defeat. Pride and adrenaline filled Leander, the tips of his fingers still tingling with magic. He had won. His smile was wide as he turned to where Dominic had been standing, but it quickly fell into confusion when he realised he was no longer there.

The redhead almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a rough hand grab his arm and begin tugging him away, and as he looked at who it was, Leander’s cheeks grew hot, even more confused than before. It was Blackwood, his dark hair curling up at the nape of his neck, grazing the green lining of his Slytherin robes. He was so focused on the neck of the other boy he hadn’t the time to notice they had left the clock tower, now in some outside corner, seemingly tucked away from the rest of the castle.

He had begun to speak, his eyebrows stitched together in questioning as he looked away, at anything other than the boy he had been pining after since the first day of classes. “Dominic, I-” He was cut off as he felt gloved fingers reach around his neck and pull him slightly down, his mouth clumsily crashing against Blackwood’s. Leander's eyes stayed open in shock, panic rushing through him. He relented, however, letting himself enjoy what he had been wanting to do for months, even if it did end up being some sick Slytherin prank.

Hands shaking, Leander nervously reached for Dominic’s face, feeling the warmth of his cheeks before sliding into his thick dark hair, receiving a pleased noise from the boy who continued to kiss him. It was just how he imagined, the Slytherin’s lips tasting sweet, yet smoky, as if someone had burned a marshmallow, and as Blackwood swept his tongue across Leander's lips, he eagerly parted them, pulling Dominic closer, wanting to feel his torso pressed against his own. He felt as if the entire earth was spinning beneath his feet, the feeling of a burning fire starting in his abdomen from the leather against his neck, the other boy’s tongue swirling against his own being entirely too intoxicating.

And just as quick as it happened, it ended, Dominic pulling away, his face flushed and gorgeous, his eyes hooded and practically glowing. The dark-haired boy then mumbled something Leander didn’t quite hear, and he must have had floo powder in one of his pockets because they were now in the Gryffindor common rooms and he was once again being pulled towards where the dorms lie. Leander wanted to ask how a Slytherin could have been able to travel so easily to the common room, but the realisation of what was happening shoved his questioning thoughts aside, his trousers tightening an embarrassing amount as they ascended the stairs and entered Prewett’s dorm room.

Once inside, Leander saw Dominic pull out his wand and mutter an incantation over the room, his eyes falling to the handle. It was similar to the end of his own wand, made of some sort of orange and white striped stone. If his cheeks could have warmed even more, Leander was sure they did. “I… I didn’t know you felt that way… About me, hah.” He spoke, Dominic spinning around to him, with a look of… embarrassment? Leander laughed a bit before rubbing the back of his neck, hoping he hadn’t offended the Slytherin. “I just mean, well, I didn’t know you liked boys. I was hoping you did. I didn’t know I liked boys either, at least not until you showed up and beat the -”

“Leander.”

Pretwett looked back at Dominic who was now undoing his robe and sliding it off, his broad shoulders now visible underneath a very well-fitting button-down and vest. “I, yes?” He stuttered, scanning the boy in front of him.

“Of course I like you. You’re so strong and handsome. I couldn't help myself after seeing you beat Sebastian like that. So courageous and noble, not using any unsanctioned spells. It was… very admirable.”

Dominic’s voice was low and smooth, like music to Leander’s ears, his legs practically turning to jelly from the praise. He couldn’t speak, his mind like soup as he watched the Slytherin boy unbutton his vest, then his dress shirt, slipping both articles of clothing off and revealing what Leander had only seen in carved marble. He was stunning, and Leander was subconsciously moving toward him as he slid off his gloves as well, much to Prewett’s surprise and pleasure as he hadn’t seen the boy without them since the first day of classes.

The black-haired boy hummed in a pleased tone as Leander finally reached him, his cold hands sapping the warmth from Blackwood’s exposed skin, his thumbs connecting the small dots that lay on his flesh. This was obviously not nearly enough for Dominic, as he rather hurriedly tugged at Prewett’s robes, and the redhead was suddenly embarrassed again, that he had been ogling for what felt like ages as well as worried that the Slytherin would no longer want to… after seeing him unclothed. He relented, however, slipping off his robe and beginning to unbutton the layers he had, his motions being restricted by Dominic once again kissing him, slower this time, more deliberately. Apparently Blackwood felt Leander stop what he was doing, as the redhead felt his hands do the job of unbuttoning for him, doing the task quickly and efficiently, sliding the garments off.

Blackwood pulled away from the kiss once more, eyeing Leander, making the redhead squirm. Prewett was going to speak again, but the sight of Dominic spotting the uncomfortableness in his trousers and looking up at him with a smirk made his breath hitch in his throat, his heart beating relentlessly out of his chest. And when Blackwood knelt to the ground before him and placed a kiss on his… predicament, Leander felt as though he almost could have came just from that contact alone, the breath that had been caught now escaping shakily.

“I’ve wanted to do this for ages, since you showed me around the greenhouses.” Dominic spoke, just above a whisper, his warm fingers edging across the waistband of Leander’s trousers before undoing the clasps that held the britches in place. He looked up at Prewett, and a small moan escaped the redhead, not thinking in a million years he’d see such a sight. He honestly thought such an image should be captured, framed and put in a museum.

Dominic continued his movements, tugging the fabric that restrained Prewett away. Blackwood hummed, a smirk on his lips, apparently pleased with what he saw before sliding his hand up Leander’s thigh, making the redhead’s painfully hard cock twitch. Leander could have died, died and gone straight to heaven as he felt the Slytherin finally wrap his strong, warm hand around his length, stroking him a few times before swiping his thumb across the tip, collecting the precum that had accumulated to ease his movements. Prewett shook, having never felt anything like this before. He had only ever touched himself, he hadn’t even had a first kiss before today, and his body felt like it was on fire, tied to a burning stake.

“Look at me”

Blackwood’s voice made Leander shiver as he opened his eyes, not knowing when he had closed them. He looked down at the dark-haired boy on his knees before him, those golden eyes staring through him with such intensity as his mouth opened, tongue lolling out of his mouth to lick Prewett from base to tip, his hot breath and drool making the redhead’s eyes flutter, resisting the urge to close them again. Dominic seemed content with this as he took Leander into his mouth entirely, Prewett’s legs shaking as he felt himself hit the back of Blackwood’s throat. The dark-haired boy didn’t gag though, much to Leander’s surprise, as if he had done this before, and Leander’s shock must have been evident on his face as Dominic hummed around him, bemusement in his eyes as he began to bob his head, hands gripping the slight pudge at Prewett’s hips.

Leander’s hands fumbled to find where they were supposed to be, one eventually tangling into Dominic’s hair, the other covering his mouth slightly, the noises escaping him being absolutely shameful. “F-Fuck, Blackwood. Hmmff.” He whimpered, hips beginning to move despite the grip on them tightening, attempting to control his movements. The dark-haired boy looked up at him, his stare being icy despite the warmth of his eyes, practically demanding him to stop. But he couldn’t, the wet friction being far too enticing as his hand tugged on Dominic’s hair, feeling like he was about to cum.

He didn’t though, Dominic pulling off of him with a pop, spit trailing down his pretty face, lips and cheeks flushed. Leander almost cried, his cock aching painfully as Blackwood stood and grabbed his hand, a slight anger to him. Prewett’s brows furrowed in confusion and anxiety, worrying that he had done something wrong, but his worries were partially quelled as Dominic shoved him onto his bed and began unlacing his own trousers. Leander’s eyes widened a bit, seeing how hard Dominic was himself. “I uh, I can h-” He began, before being cut off by Blackwood’s ever-commanding tone, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Shut up.”

Before He could register what was happening, Dominic was straddling him, his cock pressed between their torsos as the dark-haired boy loomed over him, kissing at his neck and shoulders, his teeth marring the freckles that lay on Leander’s practically transparent skin. Leander couldn’t help but buck his hips against Blackwood’s arse, desperately needing the friction as Dominic continued to leave deep purple marks over his collarbones and chest. “Hah, p-please, Dominic. I need it.” He begged, tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

Dominic leaned up from where he had been, looking perfectly dishevelled, his usually put-together demeanour faltering slightly, lust tainting his constantly stoic expression, like seeing a statue begin to crack. Without a word, Blackwood moved, reaching for his wand and tapping the tip of it against the blood-rushed tip of Leander, a warm, slick fluid flowing down onto it. Leander was at a loss for words, not expecting what he was seeing, Dominic raising himself and leaning over, a hand on the wooden headboard above Leander as he positioned the redhead with the other.

And when Dominic finally lowered himself, a dreadfully loud moan escaped Prewett’s lips, only partially stifled by a hand that he had raised to his mouth. His head spun as his other hand grabbed at Dominic’s thigh, then his hip, up to his chest, and back to his hip again. He couldn’t focus on any one thing, or else he’d… Well he’d be far too embarrassed by what would happen, his eyes dancing over Blackwood’s body, but not focusing on it for too long, the compromising position looking all too good on the dark-haired boy. Leander heard a small laugh escape Dominic and he looked away, at some poster on the wall next to his bed, the words becoming illegible as the boy on top of him began to move, rocking back onto his cock.

“Merlin, Leander you feel so good, fuck.” Blackwood spoke breathlessly through a soft moan.

Leander let himself look at him, fully, taking in the form on top of him. It happened, his body shuddered with an intensity he could barely comprehend, strings of praise falling from his mouth as he gripped at Dominic’s waist, trying to get more friction as he rode out his high.

“Uhg, Merlin, will you knock it off, Leander? Again?”

The sound of Garreth’s voice shocked him, the smirking form of Dominic fading away as blackness consumed his vision.

“Wake up, Prewett, perverted bastard.”

Leander’s eyes shot open, his chest heaving with laboured breaths. Garreth was standing next to his bed, arms crossed and face twisted with disgust. “I- wh- what time is it?” Prewett croaked out, his throat dry and face flushed with embarrassment.

“It’s almost seven. Ugh, you should clean up too.” Garreth replied, motioning towards the sheets that had become wrapped around Leander in his sleep, a dark spot forming between his legs. “And apologise to the house elves this time.” The other red-headed Gryffindor turned and headed out of the door and Leander was left alone, a mess.

#hogwart legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #leander prewett #leander prewett smut #Dominic Blackwood #Dominic Blackwood HL #Dominic Blackwood Smut #m/m #fanfic #my writing

[violetsaffron5]

Infinity

| Ao3 | Discord 18+ | Series Masterlist | Taglist | Chapter 15 |

14 | Misery

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

Things finally come to a head and you get the answers you've been waiting for

words: 3910

cw: canon typical violence

an: two more chapters left!

an2.0: I was watching The Mummy (1999) while writing this chapter, so there is def some inspo taken from that. If anyone tries to say the one with Tom Cruise is better, or even good, we can't be friends

When you come too, there’s no telling how long it’s been, your vision is blurry but you can make out the flickering of light bouncing off jagged stone walls. It’s cold where you’re at, and the surface you’re laying on his slick but solid, akin to a slab of rock.

Moving your arms, you can feel the ropes dig into your wrists, the metal of the hooks the rope is tied to clinking together. There’s also several hands roaming over your body, making you toss and turn, flinching away from their touch.

The last time you were kidnapped it was by Satoru, but something tells you this is going to be a lot less fun than that turned out to be.

When your eyes adjust, you can make out candles littered across the large open space you’re in. It looks like a cave, more man made than natural, but definitely underground judging by the foundation of the room you’re in.

It’s quiet, only the sound of people murmuring as they move about echoing off the walls, the flickering of light belongs to candles littered about the space, the sound of the wicks burning barely evident.

Your feet are also bound, you notice, when you try to kick away the woman rubbing some sort of oil on your ankles. Lavender and jasmine are being burned in tiny jars at your feet, with what looks like offerings of some sort, lining the space as well - they’re all golden trinkets.

“Hold still, girl,” a woman scolds as she works to weave something into the strands of your hair.

You move your head from side to side, kicking and waving your arms as much as possible, but not able to get much traction due to being bound.

The woman Satoru had gone out with walks up to you, holding your shoulders still as another comes over and holds your feet down, halting your movements.

She’s in a thick black cloak, with the hood down as the other people walking around the room are in thinner ones, with their hoods up shielding their faces. Judging by the voices, you’d venture to guess it’s a mixture of both men and women.

“You know, being tied up is only fun when it’s with Satoru,” you say, voice strained and sore from whatever was used to knock you out.

The woman rolls her eyes before stepping away, Aoyama Kenji taking her place. He’s in a similar cloak, slightly more intricate with the designs that run through the black cloth. You can only imagine he’s the ring leader of whatever is going on around here, but the woman is likely in a higher position as well, due to her thicker cloak than the others.

You watch as another person comes over and caresses your skin, concentrating on letting your energy flow through you and into them, but the small whirling of energy you typically feel flowing through you is nonexistent, and despite trying to will them to stop touching you is having no effect.

“What the fuck is going on?” Your heart is pounding now, realizing the gravity of the situation. You’re tied down, helpless without the use of your abilities.

“Shush girl, let the man talk,” the woman above you tugs on the strands of your hair a few times, holding your head in place as she continues to tie something into your locks.

“Her ability prevents others from using their own. A handy little trick, in situations like this.”

They’re all murmuring something you can’t quite make out, but if you had to guess, from whatever their saying, the cloaks they wear, the gold trinkets, the woman doing something with your hair, the lavender and jasmine burning at your feet, it all feels very ritualistic.

“We’ve been watching you for some time,” Aoyama states, “with a man on the inside informing us of your whereabouts and abilities.”

You're staring at him, eyes roaming his face. He’s told you his name but you still can’t place why he looks different than the night you met him.

“Great, care to enlighten me as to who?”

“Geto.” The man states simply, and it really comes as no surprise.

Suguru would be the number one suspect on your list with the way he’s treated you from the day you met. You sigh, wondering if it would have been worth the effort to try and explain Suguru’s attitude towards you to Satoru, or if it would have made any sort of difference in the long run.

“Were you the reason why Satoru and I were brought out to investigate the club?”

He smiles, it’s large, creepy and looks like it belongs to the devil, “primarily a distraction, to lure you to us. The club has plenty of land we could use to set up a base here without rousing too much suspicion.”

“That’s a really stupid plan, you know? What if Satoru wasn’t assigned this mission and what if he didn’t bring me-”

“Not a worry. Geto was able to arrange it so Gojo was assigned this mission and then all he had to do was put a bug in Gojo’s ear about how enticing it would be to bring you along with him.”

Another man comes and joins, Aoyama next to you, this one you do recognize as you had just met him a few weeks ago while dress shopping: Saito Akira.

In his hand he holds an intricate dagger, blood red rubies lining the hilt.

“What are you going to do, sing Jenny as you stab me with that? If you’re looking for a virgin for your little ritual, you’re sorely mistaken for what I am.”

Saito grins, it’s beautiful, but his eyes are mischievous, a terrifying glint present in his dark orbs, “do you know what you are?”

“Does it matter? And why do these people keep touching me?”

Nearly everyone in the room chuckles at your question, as if it should be obvious, as if you shouldn’t have been wondering what you are and why you’re different from everyone else your entire life.

“You’re a vessel for our goddess, Lilith. This is a great honor for not only us, having the chance to resurrect her, but for you as well, to be the body she takes over.”

You furrow your brows, stumbling over your next words, “I-how am I a vessel of all things?”

“Because of your abilities. It’s rare for someone with the gifts you were born with to lack cursed energy, and the fact that you do is proof you are the reincarnation. It only happens once every… oh, I don’t know, a thousand years or so.”

Watching their faces for any form of teasing or a hint of lies you find nothing, they’re dead serious and they plan on using the dagger they just brought over as the tool to sacrifice you with.

The woman above you finally stands, stating she’s finished fitting the crown on your head before grabbing a jar from the floor and pouring some of the remnants from inside on her hand and blowing it towards the entrance of the cave.

“A manipulation technique,” she answers your question before you’ve asked, as curses are seemingly brought to life from nothing but the particles she just blew around the room. You can’t hear what she says next, but it’s clear she’s able to control the curses in some manner, with the way they’re headed out to the corridor.

And really, you can’t help but hate Jujutsu at this point, and maybe you should have taken Satoru up on his offer to quit and lounge around his place all day, waiting for him to come home. It would certainly beat getting kidnapped, thrown through walls and nearly dying, or actually dying, as it appears the case may be today.

You’re feathering your jaw, watching the two men prepare the dagger, and of course, at the last moment, you realize what is different about Aoyama.

“You wore contacts the night we met. Your eyes were a beautiful hazel color, now they look like a shitty, dull blue.”

“I put them in as a countermeasure, just in case your lover were to show up, which as you know, he did.”

“So your big disguise incase Satoru showed up was contacts? That’s hilarious.” You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, just all of it, being so ridiculous. These people follow you around, trying to get close to you. Thinking contacts would stop Satoru from being able to find out who they were and what they were really doing, had he cared to research.

Tears form in the corner of your eye due to laughing so hard, your stomach is even beginning to cramp a little. And then you feel his presence before you hear a blast so loud it’s shaking the entirety of the cave and footsteps approaching quickly.

“Satoru’s here. He’s going to kill you all.” You have a smile on your face as you say the words, you only wish you would have had the chance to kill one or two of them. A few lives you would have gladly rid the world of.

“We never planned on making it out alive.” Saito states, raising the blade over his head with both hands, “as long as the ritual is completed before he makes it in, then that’s good enough for us.”

You’ve been missing for several hours and Satoru feels like he’s going insane searching for you. He’s made his way around the grounds of the club he saw you walk away in, called your phone over and over again with it going straight to voicemail. He even warped to the skyline, removing his glasses to really get a good look around.

Nothing. You’re just gone. No traces of you, no traces of residual energy anywhere.

There’s a sour feeling growing in the bit of his stomach and his hands tremble as they reach into his pocket when his phone rings, he briefly wonders if this is what fear feels like.

He hopes, when he takes his phone out of his pocket, that it’s you, with some silly little story about what happened and why your phone is off, but he has a gut wrenching feeling it won't be.

And he’s proven right when he sees Principle Yaga’s name flash across the screen.

“Yeah.” He answers, short and simple, annoyed that the person he wants to get in touch with isn’t the one currently on the other end of the phone.

“Suguru’s defected. Massacred a village this morning.”

“What?”

Yaga sighs on the other end of the phone muttering “why are you making me say it again,” before repeating what he had just told Satoru, to his disbelief. Not only are you gone, but now he’s being told Suguru has killed over 100 humans. Something he would never do.

Satoru holds his phone in his hand, cracking the screen as he thinks about what he should do. He wants to stay and search for you but if efforts have been fruitless, and he doesn’t want to believe what he was just told about Suguru, there's a restless pit in his stomach telling him he should go see his friend. Perhaps for the last time.

Satoru doesn’t have to go far when he warps away, finding Suguru on the streets of Tokyo near the club, waiting for him to arrive.

“What the hell happened to you?” Satoru asks, voice strained, the streets filled with pedestrians coming and going to the shopping centers and food courts nearby.

“I just came to realize over the years I hate all monkeys, and she’s even worse than that. Not a human, not a sorcerer. She has no place in the world, especially with us superior beings.” Suguru easily explains, “I didn’t realize how much disdain I held onto after the Star Plasma mission, until after I met her. I suppose I should thank her for helping me realize I can no longer hide who I am.”

Suguru says your name slowly, “she’s being held in a cave 24 kilometers northeast of the tennis courts on the property of the golf club you were sent to investigate.”

“Was that your doing we as well?”

“I just provided them with the idea, had nothing to do with the execution. But I no longer care, my plans have changed. If you leave now, you might even make it in time to save her.”

Suguru turns his back to his friend, raven hair blowing in the wind, hands in his pocket. Satoru scoff, holding out his hand, debating on sending a wave of cursed energy through his head, but after taking a deep breath, he lowers his hand slowly.

There’s no way he would be able to kill Suguru. The only way he may be able to bring himself to do it is if he decides to destroy everyone and everything.

Satoru makes quick work of finding the cave Suguru mentioned, making his way inside, running along the manmade corridors. There are charms hanging on the walls, some of them wet from water dripping from above.

He scoffs at the sight - clearly Suguru had given them inside information on his abilities and ways to prevent him from being able to warp, but that’s the most they can do; try to delay the inevitable.

There’s curses coming down the man made passage, likely another attempt to delay him from reaching where you’re being kept. Though, they clearly underestimated him, even with their inside knowledge of his abilities.

Holding his hand in front of him as his long legs carry him further and further in the depths of the cave, the red light from his technique shines along the walls, everything glowing a blood red color as he releases a wave of reversal red.

The curses in front of Satoru explode, loud enough he’s sure you and every cultist in this damn cave will have heard it, not that it matters, they’re all going to die anyway.

Once he reaches the depths, Satoru finds himself in a large open area, cultists surrounding the innermost circle where he can see your frame with a man hunched over your body.

Even without being able to warp at the moment, Satoru is fast. Fast enough to make his way to the man next to you with ease, grabbing his head and twisting, effortlessly snapping his neck.

As soon as the man falls to the ground, Satoru’s heart stops seeing a knife plunged into your chest, blood pooling around the blade and your skin draining of all color.

As much as he wants to stop and focus on you, he has to turn his attention on the other cultists. Some of them are standing in place, knowing this is where they’re going to meet their end, not trying to fight it. Others are in shock at the sight of the white haired man and the lengths he would go through to save you while the last few are running away in fear, trying to save their own skin.

It’s not going to work.

Satoru takes out his anger in… unique ways on the cultists. Starting with the ones standing, just so those who are running think they have an actual shot at getting away from him.

He doesn’t care if they’re curse user or human, the way he’s kicking their heads back, snapping necks in the process, slamming them so hard into the side of the caves their bones are broken, alive or dead, he doesn’t care. They’re unable to move and nobody will bother to come save them.

Their screams and pleas for their lives fall on deaf ears as he works his way through each person, one by one, letting them fight back as much as they could, without his infinity on to make them think they had a chance of harming him.

When it’s finally said and done, he’s covered in cultist blood, wiping what managed to get on his face off as he makes his way over to you.

“Baby.” Satoru’s voice is quiet, looking you over. You’re too quiet, too still. His hands are on your shoulders, gently shaking you from side to side, “baby, wake up. It’s over now.”

You still don’t move, his eyes search your face, looks at the knife plunged in the center of your chest, blood splattered around where the knife entered, still slowly seeping out, soiling your clothes.

“You can’t leave me too.” It’s a whisper, he’s swallowing thickly, grabbing your small cold hands to clamp them between his larger warmer ones, “you can’t leave me too, baby, wake up.”

Nothing. And he’s about to lose his goddamn mind.

“Wake up.” He commands in a much firmer tone, angry. “Do what you did with Nanami. Right now. Figure it out.”

You don’t stir. And for a man who’s never really stressed, he’s fucking panicking, heart beating too fast and hard in his chest it feels like it’s going to explode into a million tiny little pieces that will never be able to be put back together again.

Because what the fuck is he supposed to do if you’re gone too? His best friend and the woman he loves, both gone on the same day. Both gone but in different ways.

There’s a knot forming in Satoru’s stomach, he’s not sure if he’s ever felt nauseous a day in his life but fuck if he doesn’t feel that way, right now in this moment. How is he supposed to go on if he loses the two people he loves the most on the same day?

He chuckles, it’s strained, sounds insane, thinking if you don’t wake up, if you don’t come back to him, he’s going to burn the world to the ground, starting with the higher-ups. Because you deserve the world, deserve everything, and he wanted to give it to you.

There are footsteps echoing into the room, Satoru doesn’t turn to have to know who it is, he knew he was followed, that the person hung back to watch what would happen.

“The knife is laced with a poison to cause mild paralysis. It’s not a very strong one, the intention just for it to be inserted into the bloodstream long enough for the ritual to be completed. If you remove it now, she’ll be able to feed and survive.”

“Why are you helping me now, Suguru. After all of this?” Satoru’s voice is angry, pissed at his best friend for turning his back on him and everything they hoped to achieve together.

“She won’t exist in the world I plan to create, so it doesn’t matter if she lives or dies right now anyway.”

Clenching his jaw, Satoru takes a deep breath as Suguru walks away. He quickly debates the pros and cons of leaving the knife in and taking you to see Shoko, or pulling it out now. But he knows Suguru, still trusts him enough in his words to believe what he just said.

And If he has to live his life without Suguru in it, then he sure as hell isn’t going to live it without you too.

Grabbing the hilt of the dagger, Satoru pulls the blade from your chest. He’s seen a lot of fucked up things in his life, due to curses. Dismemberments, friends dying. But he closes his eyes at the sight of the blade leaving a loved one's body, not able to stand it with the squelching sound your blood makes as the blade is removed.

He waits, for what feels like an eternity for you to stir. First with a cough, then struggling to gasp for air, trying to catch your breath. When you open your eyes, you’re met with Satoru’s worried gaze, his eyes flickering across your face making sure you’re really you.

Your eyes are the same, albeit furrowed with panic and fear evident. He doesn’t let you speak, doesn’t let you try to move.

Instead, he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours, letting you siphon as much energy as you need.

The wind is blowing a cool breeze as you sit outside the cave you were brought to, still somewhere on the acreage of the Golf Club you were investigating, tucked away in a valley of trees. You were able to fully heal from Satoru, the wound not being quite as bad as he had anticipated, it was definitely not comparable to the injuries you received during your mission with Nanami.

It’s quiet out in the woods, sitting next to Satoru with your knees pulled to your chest as his long legs are sprawled out in front of him, sitting back on his hands next to you. The birds are chirping, leaves rustling as the wind passes by, your clothes are tattered where the knife made its way through the fabric and his clothes are covered in drying blood.

Looking over to him, his glasses are off and he has his eyes closed, face turned up towards the sky letting the small amount of sunlight that’s filtering through the trees hit his face. There’s a glow to his skin, he’s always looked ethereal, even more so with the small halo glowing around his skin.

“When we met any of them, did you know they were curse users? Is that why you were so weird with Aoyama and Saito?”

Satoru shakes his head, “nope. Didn’t like the way they were looking at you. Knew the one was wearing contacts though.”

You let the silence come between you again. It’s easy with him, it has always been between the two of you. Satoru loves to talk and fill the space at work or spending time with friends, but when you’re alone, he’s content just being in your vicinity.

“Did you ever suspect Suguru?” You ask quietly, watching his reaction, moving your hands to your hair to finally rid yourself of the stupid crown the woman laced in.

He takes a deep breath,opening one eye to look over at you before answering, “no. Seems like he covered his tracks perfectly, or I wasn’t paying close enough attention to notice any mistakes he may have made.”

There’s a hurt in his eyes he’s allowing you to see, showing his vulnerability right now just because it’s you. Satoru will act stoic around others, but there’s no denying the hurt he’s feeling from being betrayed by his best friend. It will take him some time to overcome it, even if he pretends to be okay in front of everyone else.

You’ll be by his side every step of the way, though your heart is heavy for Satoru.

“I’m sorry. If I had never moved here-”

“Don’t.” He interrupts with a firm voice, “Suguru was going down that path no matter what. If you hadn’t come, maybe it would have been delayed some, but it was inevitable from the moment we failed the Star Plasma mission.”

You stay quiet, nodding and pursing your lips before laying back on the grass next to him, exhausted from the events of the day.

Reaching out, you let your hand find his, the metal from wedding bands you’re still wearing clinking together as you entwine your fingers with one another.

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[dulcewrites]

What if Viserra manages to live for few months before dying by a fever like Alyssa😭

She survives the birth and finds out she has a girl and she's disappointed and for a full year, she doesn't get to know her child(for post-partum depression), until she does...

I can imagine Viserra crying bitter tears as she hugs Alayne and apologizing over and over again to her baby" I'm no better than the queen" she would mutter bitterly before trying to make up the lost time with her daughter.

She doesn't enjoy motherhood fully because her parents are asking to see her and the baby, and she would be like: "No.No.She's mine.I made her.She's mine.Not the crown's"

When she arrives at KL, she is welcomed with open arms but doesn't allow anyone to carry Alayne, Alysanne tries to get close to Viserra but only receveis the silent treatment and short answers.

She side eyes Daemon everytime he's around Alayne because she has heard he's a little shit, Baelon because she hates him so much(this old man did nothing to at least advocate for his little sister.NOTHING.Like I understand if he was in shock because his little sister was naked in his chambers, but AT LEAST SOMETHING ) Jaehaerys(we know why)also because she wants his head exploded, because he looks so much like her(I headcannon the boys looking like Alysanne, while the girls like Jaehaerys)

She's so quiet and cold(for the men in the family, it's a good thing while Alysanne is nervous) until some people start talking shit about her baby( remember she's one year old and we know how mess in the head people are) and be like: "I hope that girl doesn't become like her mother" and Viserra would be like: "that little shit(Daemon) can do whatever he wants because he's still young when I and Alayne would be reprimanded for it"

And if it was a maid who said those words, I can imagine Viserra marching up to here and simply slaps her and with an icy voice, imitating her hated father, she dared the maid to repeat those words.

Okay I stop👻

I’m glad I got this bc then I can sort of gage opinions (I may do a poll to see if it something people would even like) but I wanted to do like a seperate chapter in bitw about Alayne and Viserra. Or it might go in as a seperate work but under the same series on ao3. But it would basically be about Viserra. Her growing up, her relationship with her parents, the incident with baelon, and then her being married off. It would end with the birth of Alayne and Viserra eventually passing bc [insert reason].

I do want to write a whole thing about her and just sort of the Jaehaerys/Alyssane era of Targaryens bc it was just so awful for the kids. My kind of carrying on in terms of writing.

But yeah… I imagine if viserra did get married and have kids, she’d have maybe a similar sort of journey that we see show Alicent have. She’s (rightfully) upset about the way the kid(s) came to be but they are all she has. She’d be so happy to have a little girl. It would be a nice parallel compared to her father and other men who put so much focus on having boys to continue their line. Alayne is her legacy.

#idk how old Daemon would be at the time but he was probably an annoying kid too lmaoo #blood in the water asks #it was a whole thing about people thinking she named her Alayne bc it sounds like alysanne #but I have a thing about that ☝🏽

[griefbringers]

re: your post about muses' grief/loss/nostalgia. delirium grieves delight, even though she doesn't really understand why. she knows that she was different, and that people liked her more back then, and maybe sometimes she tries to emulate delight, but it always comes out wrong. idk if she dreams exactly, but she definitely gets lost in her head and her daydreams about what she used to be so. kind of counts.

persephone feels a profound sense of loss, too, though she can't quite place it. i think it's a sense of belonging - when she's above, she dreams of quiet and cold, a sort of comforting, safe claustrophobia. when she's in the underworld, she dreams of an endless open sky, and vivid colour, and the feeling of a warm summer rain. no matter where she is, she is always dreaming of the other place, and she often wakes up dissatisfied.

i don't think you're familiar w jean moreau but he doesn't really remember where he grew up (marseille), nor his parents, except to know that they weren't good people. that doesn't stop him dreaming of belonging and a better time, and sunshine glinting off the wide, blue sea. big nostalgia vibes.

kieren walker! god where to start. for one, he grieves rick (both times). i think he dreams about him from their lives before either of them died, and what could have been. obviously he's very happy with simon and loves him to pieces, but he definitely has dreams about what his life might have been with rick (and he always wakes up angry that it was taken from them. twice.). obviously he often has nightmares about corinthian 1, and he's angry about everything there. sometimes he dreams about what his relationship with jem used to be like, how they were so close and how his death/rising took that from them - but that's nostalgic and hopeful because season 2/post-canon they're working on it and he knows that things are getting better. same with his parents (and he knows they feel awful guilt about the circumstances of his death, how they didn't know he'd been murdered for days and just assumed that he'd gone off on a bender with rick). kieren's dreams are much more nostalgic than he is when he's awake - when he's awake, he knows that things are getting better every day with his family.

uhhh anyway there's probably others but ttfn

firstly fuckin bless you. you understood the assignment. you get a GOLD STAR. i'm gonna split my responses up per character to keep things readable LET'S GOOOO

Delirium: YEAH!!! Mourning a past sense of self is [chef kiss] - I think Johnny actually has something similar to that in that like… He knows he isn't the original Johnny; he looks a lot like them, functions in a similar way, has--to his understanding--the same sort of personality with a more humanized slant from his time in the Waking… but he doesn't have the first Johnny's memories, and wouldn't know how to begin 'being' him. If anyone could do it, it'd be Graves, but Graves is… well. A nightmare, for one thing, and not interested in trying to be their old self again, for another.

I don't imagine Johnny can visit Delirium as a /dream/, but I think that if he was around her in person then, like Graves, he can sort of 'feel' when people's sense of loss 'aligns' with his intended purpose, if that makes any sense… Both he and Mykonos would be drawn to Delirium for that reason (but ESPECIALLY Mykonos, whose purpose often revolves around calling people back to the past--or past selves--they long for).

Persephone: First of all CHEF KISS because this makes perfect sense for Persephone and I'm thriving on it actually. I think the Cassidies would be drawn to her just on a personal level, though I can't fully articulate why (fun fact as a sidenote, just to give you an idea of what they're like: one of the Cassidies reminds me a lot of Sila, though they're much softer - more like Sila when he's at his most loved and comfortable and feels safe being soft, if that makes any sense; the other is a little more of a performer, puts more of a charming front up, probably because the actual real-life Cassidy WAS a performer and her death is why those two exist--ANYWAY).

For dreams though, I imagine Graves and Mykonos would be drawn to her, possibly working in unison; nightmare to dream, dream to nightmare, an endless cycle where it's never quite clear which part is dream and which is nightmare. Mykonos is HUGE on nostalgia and the feeling that things were better in the past (or better somewhere else); Graves likes to dig up those deep, unpleasant feelings of 'something was taken from me/there's something I want back' and [gestures]

Jean: I am not familiar with him! HOWEVER I already fuckin KNOW Graves and Mykonos would once again be drawn to him for similar reasons to Persephone. Maybe the Cassidies too actually, I can see them giving him really vivid natural landscapes + other beautiful, nostalgic scenes in his dreams (and music, too, always music).

Kieren: YESSSSSS. This is so tasty, ESPECIALLY the way his dreams are more nostalgic/called back to the past than he is in his Waking life. You KNOW Graves is coming for that poor guy: nightmares about his own death and more importantly his Rising, the things he did as a consequence of it, the things other people did; Rick, of course, and both of his deaths, and the loss of what could have been. Johnny and Mykonos I think would also visit him; the nostalgia is all Mykonos ofc, but I think dreams about repairing his relationships with Jem and his family are something Johnny can work with too (even on just a personal interest level, which he isn't really meant to do but like…. shhhh).

Also Johnny in particular would feel IMMENSE sympathy for Kieren's SHITTY LIFE holy fuck. Graves doesn't really feel sympathy for him but he can acknowledge that it's fucked up (not gonna stop him from doing his job though, sorry).

#hc. #hc: johnny #hc: graves #hc: mykonos #hc: cassidy #[ proximity doesn't feature in any of these so far but it is a pretty specific kind of nightmare kjnsdkjfnsdf ] #flcraiscn

[obeymeoasis]

The First Time They Say “I Love You”

Lucifer

At first you just did small things, like cleaning up the used coffee cups on his desk. Things that you wanted to do for him because he was so tired all the time. But after you pointed out a calculation error in a R.A.D organization’s monthly expense sheet, Lucifer started relying on you more. He often asked you to do a final scan over documents before he submitted them to Diavolo just in case he missed anything.

You found that your work styles were very similar: extremely organized, detail-oriented, and meticulous. You enjoyed spending time in Lucifer’s office. And helping him with his work meant that he got done more quickly and had more time to spend with you. 

Right now he was at his desk, furiously scanning through a stack of papers. You could tell he hadn’t slept in a while. The buttons at his throat were undone and he had dark smudges underneath his eyes. Somebody had apparently mixed up the schedule for an upcoming series of lectures and Lucifer was left to solve the problem.

You shut the door behind you slowly and carefully made your way over, trying your best to balance the tea tray and multiple folders you were holding. "Here, Luci. I brought you peppermint tea and shortbread. You should have some while you work, you look absolutely exhausted.” He looked up at you and smiled gratefully, a private smile that only you got to see. “Thank you MC, I appreciate it.”

You then handed him the thick folders. “Also, these are all of the invoices from last week’s alumni dinner party. I thought they were a bit messy to look at so I organized them into different categories based on the business and then sorted the purchases sequentially. Also, I calculated the total expenses and thankfully we were able to stay under budget.”

Lucifer's mouth was slightly ajar and his eyes widened, looking at you as if you'd done something incredibly strange. You asked self-consciously, "Is... is something on my face?"

With the same bewildered expression on his face he said "MC... I love you."

You laughed, a little startled. "Why, because I organized some files for you?"

"Well, yes. No. I mean yes and no. It's not just the files, it's everything. The way you're always thinking of me and taking care of me. The way we work well together. The way I can trust you with anything. I love you, MC. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to say so."

You felt your cheeks flush with happiness. "Well... I love you too, you know. A lot. Now hurry up and finish your work so that we can spend some actual time together."

Lucifer laughed gently and then reached to take your hand in his, pressing a delicate kiss against your fingers. "Anything for you."

Mammon

You were at the casino with Mammon on a Wednesday night. On school nights he usually went alone because you were busy with homework. But tonight he looked so lonely as he headed for the door that something spurred you to put on a jacket and run after him.

When you took his hand in yours, he turned to look at you in surprise and the most radiant smile lit his face. “You’re coming with me, baby?”

The first couple of hours weren’t bad. Mammon brought you small plates of food and you were content to just watch as he flourished in his natural environment. You smiled amusedly at his antics, the way he bantered with the dealer, how he yelled in delight when he won and how pouty he became when he lost.

But pretty soon the long day of classes caught up to you and you could feel your eyelids growing heavy. You were tucked into a small table in the corner, away from the other guests but still visible to Mammon out of the corner of his eye. You figured no one would mind so you laid your arm on the table and rested your head in the crook of your arm. Within a couple of seconds, you were deep asleep.

Meanwhile, Mammon was having some of the best luck he’d had recently at the blackjack table. He turned to where you were sitting to give you a smile and boast about his winnings a little, only to have his heart clench tightly at the sight of you. 

You looked absolutely adorable, sleeping with a little smile on your face. It must have been a little cold for you in the casino because you were curled up tightly against yourself. Mammon flushed at how cute you looked and then felt a sudden rush of emotion. 

Even though you were tired, you still took the time to come out with him tonight. He knew these places weren’t really your thing but you never complained, you genuinely just wanted to be with him. And that was something Mammon wasn’t really used to.

You stirred at the sensation of Mammon draping his jacket across your shoulders. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you looked up to ask: “Hey Mams, how’s your luck been tonight?”

He stood silently for a moment before enveloping you into a sudden, crushing hug. “I-I love you, MC. I really love you.” You were startled and tried to move back to get a look at his face but Mammon wouldn’t budge. “No, don’t look at me. I’m probably super red. But I need to tell you how much I love you. I kinda realized it just now that there’s no one like you. No one who cares for me, who accepts all of me like you do. Thank you for always being here.”

You could feel tears forming in your eyes and buried your face against Mammon’s chest. “Oh, Mams. I love you too. I can’t imagine how alone you must have felt, especially the way your brothers treat you sometimes. But I’m here now, okay? I’ll always be on your side.”

You heard Mammon’s breath hitch a little before he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

Leviathan

You came to discover that there were a lot of little holidays in the Devildom, an occasional day or two when you didn’t have to go to classes. Sometimes you took the opportunity to travel to the human world, often to pick up small necessities or bring back foods you missed.

Today you were here to pick up something specific: strawberry preserves. You had brought back a jar from the human world recently and after having a bite, Levi had practically eaten the whole jar by himself. The preserves were the specialty of a local farm close to your house and Levi absolutely loved them.

Since you were there, you decided to pick up some different jars as well. An employee carefully packaged the jars of strawberry, peach, blueberry, and cherry preserves so that they wouldn't accidentally break on the journey. What he didn't know was that you would actually be travelling between completely different worlds.

As soon as you were back in the Devildom, you quickly made your way to Levi's room with your purchases. He was in the middle of playing a game but when he heard you come in, he turned around to welcome you back. "Hey, MC. How was your trip? What are all those boxes for?"

You opened the topmost one and showed him the little glass jar with the floral pattern on the lid. "I picked more of these up for you today, along with some other flavors I thought it would be nice to try."

Upon recognizing what it was, Levi immediately set down his controller. "MC, this is awesome! I love you!" You froze in shock at his words and it took Levi a couple of seconds before he realized what he had said. He too froze so that the two of you stood there, Levi bright red, neither moving or speaking.

Levi was the one to eventually break the silence. "I-I didn't mean that! Ignore me just now! I don't know what I'm saying." Your heart sank in disappointment. You had merely been shocked that Levi felt the same way about you as you did him. But now he was saying he didn't mean it?

Your disappointment must have been evident on your face because Levi stammered out, "I-I mean, I do mean it! It's just- aargh, this isn't how I wanted to say- Ugh, I don't know what to-" You decided it was best to just be upfront with him. "Listen Levi, I love you a lot. Have for a while now. Can I ask you how you feel about me?"

If he was bright red before, Levi's face looked almost neon red now. He stared at you open mouthed, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You- You love me? Really? You aren't making fun of me or something?" You couldn't help but huff in response. "Levi, am I seriously the type of person who would make fun of you about this?"

It seemed to finally sink in for him then. "No, no you're not. MC, I- I love you too. Ah, I can't believe I said it out loud!" He clapped his hands over his mouth and you giggled at how adorably flustered he looked.

"Hey Levi, now that we know how we feel about each other, is it okay if I give you a kiss?" Levi practically fainted then, and you had to run down to the kitchens to get him a glass of water.

Satan

Satan was used to being alone. None of his brothers or classmates really shared any of his interests and he found that he much preferred being by himself. He was always too engrossed with his books and research that he never considered himself to be lonely.

That is, until he met you. You were somehow able to slowly inch yourself into his heart and without realizing it had become the most important person to him.

The other day, he found a funny quote in one of the novels he was reading and made a note of it to show you later. Then he started thinking about how much his daily routine included you in some way. You had classes together, ate meals together, talked and laughed together, and read late into the night together, enjoying each other’s company.

He realized that he was a lot happier now. Not that he was exactly unhappy before, but it was different with you. He was a lot more relaxed, more prone to smile and laugh. And a lot of it had to do with your influence and the time you spent together.

You were both reading in his room. There was a comfortable, relaxing silence and the atmosphere was especially cozy because of all the lit candles. You had prepared a tray for Satan: a plate of rosemary biscuits and a pot of black tea to wash them down with. This was another thing he appreciated about you; you were always taking care of him.

Both of you were engrossed in your books for a while, until suddenly you could feel Satan staring at you. You marked the page you were on and turned to him, a smile playing on your lips. “Is there something I can help you with?”

He looked at you for a few moments, unsmiling. You frowned, thinking there was something wrong, but before you could say anything Satan said “I just wanted to let you know that I love you dearly.”

You were surprised to say the least. Satan wasn’t really the type to talk about his feelings this explicitly. But after the initial shock, you realized how happy you were that the person you loved felt the same way about you. Satan didn’t let people into his life and into his heart that easily.

It was only when you heard Satan say “Oh love, I didn’t mean to make you cry” that you realized tears were streaming down your cheeks. You put down your book and practically flung yourself into his arms. He hugged you back tightly and waited until you were calm enough to speak. “I love you too Satan, so much. You mean the absolute world to me.”

You laughed wetly, thinking it funny that you were crying during one of the happiest moments of your life. Satan smiled at you fondly before handing you a handkerchief so that you could dry your eyes. 

You spent the rest of the night in his lap, smiling and giggling as he attempted to read you a story out loud.

Asmodeus

These kinds of days rarely happened, but they happened nonetheless. Mean, ugly days when no matter what outfit he tried on, it didn’t look right. No matter how much time he put into styling his hair, it just looked flat and dull. And his makeup seemed to refuse to cooperate with what he had in mind.

On these kinds of days Asmo locked himself in his room under the pretense of “needing self-care”. He hated having to speak with others because their usual compliments just sounded mocking and fake to his ears.

Asmo remembered an incident when one of his admirers had complimented his hairstyle and he had snapped at her furiously: “Shut up! Don’t make fun of me!” before storming away. He was incredibly embarrassed about it and apologized profusely to her. Since then, he figured it was safer to just hide out in his room.

But it was hard to be alone in his room when you were already there. You knew something was up with Asmo when you texted him saying "Hey, could you help me pick out a new coat?" and he replied with "Maybe another time, sorry darling!" He would have never refused an opportunity to go shopping with you.

So you raced to his room after classes and thankfully managed to slip in while Asmo was in the kitchen gathering some snacks. When he saw you standing in his room you could see he struggled to act nonchalant. "Darling! I didn't know you'd be here. I'm sorry, but I'm feeling a bit under the weather today. I wouldn't want you to catch anything so it'd probably be best if you went to your room."

Your heart clenched at the blatant lie. "Oh Asmo, I'll leave if you really want to be alone. But just know that I'm here for you. Whatever it is, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you. I want to be your strength."

You could see the conflict in Asmo's eyes as he stood quietly for a couple of minutes. You were about to turn around and leave, giving him some alone time, but he suddenly blurted out "I feel ugly today. I feel disgusting and horrible and hideous."

Asmo closed his eyes, embarrassed at his outburst and also dreading what inevitably came next: empty compliments and false flattery. He didn't want to be told he was beautiful when he didn't believe it.

But instead, you surprised him by enveloping him in a strong embrace. You alternated between gently patting his back and smoothing his hair and were rewarded with feeling the tension leave his body. You didn’t say anything, just continued to hold Asmo and wipe away the few stray tears on his cheeks.

Eventually you moved him to his bed, Asmo’s head lying on your chest and his arms wrapped around your waist. You weren’t sure how much time had passed but he seemed to be much calmer. He tilted his head up to look at you, his eyes searching your face, before almost whispering “I love you”. Your eyes widened in surprise. “You seem to always know what to do, MC, how to put me back together again. You’re honest with me and you actually listen to what I’m saying. I love you. Please stay with me forever.”

The two of you fell asleep like that, Asmo’s head on your chest and your hands intertwined. 

Beelzebub

Beel was a bit nervous, considering this was one of the most important Fangol games he had ever played in. Not only was it against their rival school, but also Beel’s coach had let him know that there would be scouters from the professional league coming to watch for potential talent.

It was too bad that you wouldn’t be able to watch him play. He considered you a very important part of his game-day routine. In the morning, you always made him a hearty breakfast and at the pre-game warmup, he frequently went to you for kisses and headpats. He considered you to be his good luck charm.

Unfortunately, you weren’t feeling well. You kept having bad stomach pain and the doctor had said it was probably your body reacting to some unfamiliar Devildom food. You were currently lying down in your room with a heating pad on and some warm green tea.

Beel missed you terribly. It had only been a few hours since he had last seen you but he couldn’t help but feel lonely. You were always there shouting and cheering for him on game days which made your absence feel that much larger.

His teammates and coaches could tell that something was off with him. They kept coming by to ruffle his hair or pat him on the shoulder and ask, “Is everything okay?” and “Don’t worry, you’ll do great!” 

Beel knew he was being silly. He would go see you right after the game! And yet his heart wasn’t in it during the pre-game stretches. He kept spacing out and staring at the wall instead of actually getting ready.

Suddenly, one of the assistant coaches came into the room. “Beel! MC is here! Now hurry up and stop moping around!” He saw you behind the coach looking a bit uncomfortable, your stomach must have still been bothering you. But you were also smiling at your little surprise.

Beel ran up to you and hugged you gently. “MC! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in bed? Are you okay? Are you feeling better?” You laughed at his barrage of questions before reaching up on your tip-toes to give him a pat on his head. “I’m still in a bit of pain but I wanted to be here. I couldn’t miss such an important game! Now what’s this about you moping around?”

Beel blushed and ducked his head before mumbling, “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” You laughed again and Beel’s heart soared at the sound. He was suddenly struck with the realization of how much he loved you. You, who always had his back, who was always there to support him and motivate him. 

He wrapped his arms around you and whispered in your ear, “Thanks for being here, MC. I love you so much, you know. Sometimes it feels like my heart is going to burst.” Your arms tightened around him in response. “I feel the same way Beel, I love you so much. Now go and win this game, okay? Show them how amazing you are.”

After the game, Beel was surrounded by his coaches excitedly telling him about how many scouters were interested in seeing him play again. But all Beel could think about was having you in his arms again.

Belphegor

It occurred to Belphie one day after class as he was walking down the hallway. There was a couple leaning against the locker, engaged in a full display of public affection. They kept giggling and yelling “I love you!” at each other. Belphie fake gagged a little before moving past them.

But then it occurred to him. Is that kind of thing something... you wanted? Your relationship was relatively new both in terms of time and in that this was something Belphie wasn’t really experienced with. You were one of the people that knew him best though, apart from his brothers, and Belphie had just assumed that it would be okay to continue acting as he had always had around you.

What if secretly this was something you wanted as well? All of the endearments and displays of affection. Belphie hadn’t even- hadn’t even said the “L” word to you yet. This continued to trouble him even as he lied down for his afternoon nap. In his dreams he kept seeing visions of you crying while looking on enviously at other couples and asking, “Why can’t we be like that?”

By the time he sat down at dinner, Belphie was exhausted. And you of course noticed, especially since he was eating a lot less than he normally did. After dinner the two of you made your way to his room, where you were getting out some textbooks to study and he lied back down on his bed. “Hey Belphie, is everything okay? You seem a lot more listless than usual.

Belphie stared at you, contemplating whether to tell you what was going on. But in the end he decided against it. “It’s nothing, MC. Don’t worry about it.” His voice definitely didn’t sound like it was nothing. “Okay, Belphie. But let me know if you want to talk about anything, okay? I’m always here.”

For the next hour or so, you studied for your classes while Belphie tormented himself. He did love you. But he wasn’t good at expressing his feelings, especially in the way the couple in the hall had. What if that now you were dating, you expected him to change? Would he even be able to? Frustrated at the swirling questions in his mind, Belphie ended up blurting out “I love you!” to your back.

You turned around in your chair slowly, surprised at his sudden intensity. “I... love you too. Belphie, is everything okay? You’ve been acting strange all day.” He sighed. “MC, you know what kind of demon I am. I’m not good at all the... lovey-dovey stuff that other couples do. But if that’s what you want, I can at least try to be different.”

You shook your head. “I... honestly have no idea what you’re talking about. I know how you feel about me, Belphie. I don’t need you to be like “the other couples” because I fell in love with you and who you are. I don’t expect you to be someone you’re not. Where are you even getting the idea that I want something other than what we have?”

Ah, Belphie really did love you. There was no one else in the world that knew him so completely and still loved and accepted all parts of him. And... he just realized that he had said “I love you” for the first time by practically shouting it while your back was turned.

He got up and stood next to his desk. You were sitting and looking up at him, concern evident on your face. He smiled and leaned down to kiss you gently before mouthing against your lips, “I love you, MC.”

You could feel how hot your cheeks were as he moved away and went to lie back down on his bed. You pretended to be unbothered, flipping randomly through your textbook, but none of the words made any sense. You mumbled under your breath, “”You’re pretty good at lovey-dovey stuff.”

#obey me! #obey me! shall we date? #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me hcs #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me texts #om! hcs #om! imagines #om! headcanons

[the-yandere-cryptid]

NSFW ABCs - Maxim Horvath

Based on a request, I enjoyed this a lot and I can't wait to do more of these ABCs once my requests open!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Depends purely on the stage of the relationship. To begin with he’s incredibly cold, pulling away and keeping to himself after even the most heated sex. But if you keep reaching out despite that and make him feel comfortable with the idea of opening up, he’ll start staying in bed longer and longer. By the time you’re close, he’ll hold you close to his chest, stroking your hair while he reads a book or something similar. Not one for speaking; he might ask and answer questions, attempting to sniff out what worked and what didn’t, but ultimately not a “words of affirmation” kind of man.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part and also their partner’s)

Ultimately, Horvath’s favorite part of your body is your eyes. He believes so much can be stored in them and is constantly using eye contact, especially in any serious discussions. One of the types to insist on eye contact during sex, and it’s one of the main reasons he prefers lights on during sex.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically…I’m a disgusting person)

Horvath isn’t messy by nature, and absolutely prefers cumming down your throat/inside of you as opposed to on your skin. There’s much cleaner (and more permanent) ways to mark you as his. If he does get the occasional urge to cum on your face, it’s up to you to clean it up. (I should also note he would never do this to a partner he considers his equal. Messes are for worthless whores only.)

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Due to his lack of trust in others, Horvath has rarely sought company in the last 1000 years. That said, the need for relief doesn’t go away, so while Horvath would NEVER admit to masturbation, he’s done it quite a bit.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Incredibly experienced, if a little rusty. 90% of his one night stands throughout his long life was just to reaffirm for himself that he still knew what he was doing.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying.)

Anything with him on top. His particular favorite would be holding his partner upside down, and pounding down inside of them. (Jackhammer/Butter Churner position) Really strokes his dominant ego, with the added bonus of blood rushing to his partners head making it very easy to fuck them stupid.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

He’s not afraid to crack a witty joke here and there in the foreplay, but once the ball gets rolling he takes it pretty seriously. Trying to joke or laugh during the act itself is a pretty good way to get caned.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Horvath took a lot of pride in being more clean than the slime around him and that still holds true today. He keeps his downstairs nicely trimmed, and though he’s learned about modern hair dye he chooses to keep his salt-and-pepper hair for a more refined look.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Another that depends on time and comfort. Most times he’s somewhat detached, almost amused more than aroused when it comes to making you come apart. Sometimes he’s more attentive, almost caring as he helps you achieve orgasm. Sometimes, if you’re close and he gets drunk, he makes an intense change: He becomes hopelessly passionate, hands and lips all over your body as he fucks you until you pass out. He’ll press his skin to yours, whisper your name and all sorts of sweet nothings in your ear, then act the next day like it never happened.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Incredibly private time, and can also last for hours. Usually done in his study, he’ll lock the doors, dim the lights, and read from an erotica novel to get himself in the mood. Once he’s warmed up, he’ll relax in his chair and let his imagine drift. It’s loaded, but he figures that if his body is going to make him do it, he might as well relish in it.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Openly into begging, collars & leashes, wax play, degradation, pet play, spanking, rough sex, and weapon play. Secretly into Body worship, breeding, and hypnotism.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Will tease you in public but nothing too salacious. Mostly keeps it in the bedroom, but also really enjoys sex in his study, and he’s not unknown to snatch you up for a quickie in random parts of the house.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Maxim is a through-and-through control freak. Dominance, in any situation, is sure to get his blood flowing. He may be a little older, a little less hot-blooded than his younger self, but there’s nothing that gets him going quite like getting his enemy (or indeed, his sweetheart) down on their knees.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Not into any sort of unsanitary kinks, and he’s also not interested in subbing for you. He might try it once, out of a combination of love and curiosity, but even if you managed to convince him to give it a try it’d probably be something like “That was enjoyable, let’s never do it again.”

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Mixed. While Horvath was well bathed, most of his life he was surrounded by people whose genitals would never be allowed anywhere near his mouth, so he’s not as experienced with it as he is other things. That said, he only gives oral after a shower, but he’s also uncharacteristically patient and receptive during it, paying attention to your reactions to try and give you the best pleasure he can give. Receiving for him is another power display, so expect his cocky attitude while you please him.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

Depends on his mood. The closer he is to you, the slower and more intense it will become, unless he’s angry for whatever reason.

Q = Quickie (Their opinion on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Not a huge fan, but it serves a purpose, and he doesn’t always have time to torture you for 4 hours every time he gets hard. Quick, quiet, and if it happens, it usually means he’s in a good mood, so expect a bit more sweetness than usual. It ends as soon as it starts though, and he’ll slide away after cumming inside of you to continue on his day.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

At his age there’s not a lot of new things for him to try, but he has no issues threatening your safety in exchange for some risky sex play. Then, as you grow closer, he becomes much less willing to do so. If you have something new to introduce him to he’s usually hesitant, but ultimately a quick learner. He also has a pretty good sense of knowing whether or not he’ll like something before he tries it.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

One round guy. He prefers to drag out foreplay and pleasing you as long as possible, then finally get himself off when he’s close to bursting. Helps reduce the amount of skin-on-skin contact, an aversion that begins to fade the longer you spend with him.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Prefers the use of magic over toys, scoffs at the concept of vibrators. Why would he need that when he can make anything vibrate at ten times the intensity? (Don’t let him fool you though. If he were to walk in on your masturbating with as vibrator/fleshlight/anything, he will be quick to use it against you.)

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Is this even a question. He’ll edge you for hours with no relief if he feels like it. Even at his sweetest he takes a particular enjoyment out of watching you squirm and beg beneath him so, if you sleep with him you’ll have to enjoy being treated unfairly.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Very uncommon for him to make “indecent” noises. He’s either speaking, teasing, demanding of you, or if he’s getting close or losing himself, he’s quiet. Little grunts and groans, small sighs and curses. He’ll cover his own mouth if he finds a particularly dirty sound creeping up his throat.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Horvath does not fetishize inexperience. Doesn’t like sleeping with “ohh sir I don’t even know what sex is” virgins and has little patience for fumbling. The most basic of human instincts and you don’t know what you’re doing? Don’t expect him to hold your hand. Not to say he has no patience at all: If you’re confident, interesting, and willing to put your trust in his hands, he’ll teach you kinks you’ve never even considered.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He’s packing and he knows it. Just under 8 inches, thick around, and uncircumcised. The kind of dick you would see in porn. If you’re a bit smaller and can’t take it all, he will make it fit. Whether or not he uses magic to do so as opposed to force depends on how much he likes you.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He’s older, but it’s also been over 1000 years since he’s had a regular partner, so the sudden attraction came with a huge jump in hormones. Overall pretty active for his age.

Z = ZZZ (…how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Horvath is a chronic insomniac. It will be years before he even falls asleep in your presence, let alone after sex.

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