#how can i go from being *the sun* to you. from being all of your favorite ocs. to being absolutely nothing short of you having some deep

[recycledraccoon]

Minor thoughts on Oisin and how he seems primed to fuck over Adaine specifically. The flustered ping-pong balls that were a plan all along. The quoting her own words on the previous Elven Oracle back at her in regards to the storm.

I mean...imagine you're a skinny little dragonborn wizard, in a class with a cute elven girl. You don't talk to her, but one of your adventuring party members is pissing thinking that party is getting preferential treatment, so you KNOW about her. You watch from the corner of your eye or from a spot on the back of the class whenever she's actually there. Partway through the year she goes to jail, and when she comes back she and her adventuring party save the world from a dragon. (A dragon of whom your Grandmother had been fond. ((Also, coincidentally, the Vice Principal.))) One of them created a god.

(Your entire party is being groomed into rage by two of your teachers.)

You're in her class again. She is the Elven Oracle, already an accomplished adventurer. She and her friends are popular. She's very pretty. She does not know your name. She does not know who you are, just a skinny dragonborn a few seats back.

You go on your Sophomores Year Spring Break Adventure and don't bother to think about her party at all.

(You and your party are going to kill a god. Your teacher is going to ascend to godhood in their place and you and your party will have Made That Happen. You are angry and determined with each final blow you deal.)

You return from Spring Break angry and with a sore chest.

You find out the elven girl's party has resurrected a dead god and the live streamed the entire fight. They must think they're so much better than you and your party. You'll show them.

(Your friend refuses to change her faith. She cancels the paperwork. The rest of you kill her, confident she will make the right choice and join you again as a proper Champion for your new god. You help kill her. She does not get back up. You hide the body and none of you can say anything. You're so so angry.)

The world descended into darkness and you can do nothing. The sun finally breaks across the sky again right before Junior year. You and your party have made plans and are on the cusp of greatness. You've gained muscles to spare and ink on your scales in carefully selected runes, no longer just a skinny little dragonborn.

(You have a new cleric. He's not your friend. He's a haystack hick from that cult-church from Freshman year, and he's here because the god you're going to kill needs a Champion and he fits the bill, nothing more.)

The first day of school the plan starts to be put in motion. Immediately that party of kids is interfering, in your way. It rackles. You push on anyway, seething inside even as you act the part of being reasonable.

You go to a party at the houses of one of her friends. You've been practicing making spell runes on the inside of ping-pong balls. You're ready.

The pretty Elven girl in your class finally looks at you. She approaches you, gives you a drink, and chills it in your hand. She has to ask your name. You have shared certain wizarding classes with her since Freshman year, tho she was barely there. You have to tell her that.

You chat. She clearly gets flustered, calls you great, and flees back into the house. Your friend teases you for others to overhear. It's a convenient excuse to use your geometry and apply physics to miss every single shot and lay your trap. The drink isn't so perfectly chilled in your hand anymore.

(You talk to her. Play nice. She isn't smooth, but she smiled at you and maybe a part of you is vindictive in seeing her flustered. It's a shame she turned down the diamonds, as dragon madness would have been so poetic. You steal her summons to steal something from the house. She didn't know your name. Didn't remember you. You feel justified. Your anger burns cold like frostbite, like static in the air. You purposely don't wonder if that first miss was intentional or genuine.)

You see each other in class sometimes.

You plot and kill monsters the woods. You will win the battle. You will win the war.

Your parties have a standoff in the cafeteria. You play your part to diffuse the situation, your teacher has been harping on your friends to stop antagonizing the other party. You feel her mind touch yours gentle probing of intentions, her friends all around her as you lock eyes.

(The devil's honey your group gets from that bee girl all goes to your teacher. He is preparing himself to ascend to godhood, and he needs it for his prayers.)

She is searching for your intentions and feelings. You tell her only 'Sorry'. She believes you. You are not entirely sure why. She and her party will hopefully die during their Last Stand exam, and have no way to revive themselves in time, be trapped there until after elections.

Maybe she just wasn't perceptive enough to see the deception.

(You hate her and all her friends. You have had no devil's honey. She believes you. Briefly, you wonder if it was a lie at all.)

They catch you. They know. Your team goes to ground and waits out the remaining days 'til elections and the culmination of everything you've been working for.

It rains at the party, and you have no more masks. You are angry. She must never have been that good of an Oracle at all, and you take joy in mocking her with her own words from long ago.

She's nothing more than an elven girl in your class who was full of herself to remember your name.

(There is nothing left now to stop you from being as openly angry as you like.)

#adaine abernant #oisin hakinvar #dimension 20 #d20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #d20 spoilers #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #dimension 20 spoilers

[theminecraftbee]

The moon has fully set over the horizon. The howling over the server has stopped. Four Hermits sit in a circle, staring just slightly away from each other, as to not be caught staring. Joe is miserably trying to wring mud out of his puppet. Stress isn't bothering about the mud at all but is despairing at how shredded her jumper is. Somehow, Zedaph has only lost a shoe, which is more concerning than any of the prior people. Xisuma is deliberately not checking himself. The damning lack of helmet on his head, though, means he can't avoid feeling how he underwent the same terrible transformation as everyone else.

"So," he says, finally.

"I could use pants," Joe says, finally giving up on washing out his puppet, and, ah. Yes. Those are pretty well destroyed, aren't they? Xisuma looks away politely, feeling his face heat up. It heats up more when he realizes everyone can see it, gosh, he's–he's not so sure how he feels about that–

"I think we all need pants. Look at us," Stress says, and if Xisuma can be looking away any harder, he sure is now. Wait, she said 'all', does that include... Oh, oh dear.

"Well I don't know about you, but I still have perfectly serviceable pants," Zedaph says imperiously.

"You know, if anything, that's weirder, given the way we were all giant wolves traipsing around in the night just now. Which is strange itself! However, wolves don't normally wear pants, so really, the fact the only article of clothing you've lost is your shoes is less miraculous and more actively impossible!" Joe responds.

"Well you're actively impossible," mutters Zedaph.

"My god, it was real," Xisuma says.

"Well, I mean, I sort of figured it had to be, what with the four of us being all covered in mud and tired and your helmet being gone and all that," Stress says.

"It was real," Xisuma says.

The four of them sit in silence a little longer. The sun continues its steady march upwards into the sky. It's April; the day is longer than the night, by now, so they aren't wasting but so much time compared to the time the moon was up. The time the moon was up feels a bit more like a dream than anything else, too; distantly, Xisuma wonders if this is what spiders feel like when they become angry during the night, or what drives the undead from the ground. It's a disquieting thought, and he'd literally lived in a skeleton!

"So," Joe says. "So. Which one of us is going to yell at Zedaph for biting us?"

"Rude!" Zedaph says. "Very rude, I'm not the one that bit you! You bit me! Xisuma bit me, actually, you all saw him!"

"What? No, I didn't!" Xisuma says. "Gosh, if I were a werewolf, don't you think you'd know by now?"

"Hm. Suspicious," Zedaph says.

"No?" Xisuma says.

"I mean, I'd try to claim it was my fault, what with being a monster and all, but I'm actually a different sort of beastie normally," Stress says. "Being all doggy is new for me. I should show Iskall. Hey, do you think I should bite Iskall?"

"Yes," Zedaph says.

"No," Xisuma says.

"I'll split the difference and say maybe," Joe says. "Also, since we're arguing about it anyway, I'll say that I think I'd remember if I bit someone, although maybe I wouldn't. It's been a weird night. Maybe I should just go ahead and get everyone apology gifts instead?"

"Please don't," Zedaph says.

"Aww, but I like his gifts," Stress says.

"Honestly, yeah, I was–no, Zedaph is right, it'd be too distracting," Xisuma says, thinking of many of the, er, gifts he's gotten from Joe in the past. "Besides, it's not your fault. But if none of us bit anyone, then why on earth are we all werewolves no–oh no."

"That was ominous?" Joe says.

"Oh. Ohhhhhh," Zedaph says. "Whoops."

"It was supposed to be a joke about investment bankers," Xisuma says.

"Wait, what, do you really think the silly name turned us into werewolves?" Stress says.

"I had other season plans, Xisuma!" Joe says.

"Hey, does that make me a sheep in wolf's clothing that's also a wolf that turns into a sheep that turns into a wolf? If so, neat," Zedaph says.

"Do you know how annoying it will be to get a werewolf puppet?" Joe says.

"Gosh, I absolutely have to bite Iskall now," Stress says.

Xisuma, for a moment, considers putting a stop to it. If it really is the silly name, the collective, the hats and the howls–if it really is the collective weight of story bearing down on all of them–then really, it's still so early that it would be very easy to stop.

Xisuma considers the competition the rest of the shopping district poses, and how easy it will be to move as a collective when they're also a pack.

Also, he hasn't actually been a wolf before. That's one mob he hasn't done!

"You should bite Iskall. I want to know what it does," Xisuma says, deciding that he's quite bored with being responsible and that if someone wants to stop it, it will have to be not him. "But, er, first, in the meantime, do you think he or Doc is better to ask for a helmet that'll grow to fit my muzzle instead of nearly trapping my skull?"

"Hm," Stress says. "Well, Iskall is pretty good at head electronics."

"Yeah, but Doc is a better choice for abominations against nature!" Joe says.

"What about me? I like abominations," Zedaph says.

"It's okay, Zedaph, it's just you don't make many helmets, is all," Xisuma says. "We'll run around being abominations of nature, gosh, most full moons together. Is that good enough?"

"Fine," Zedaph says. "I'm bringing the snacks. I have sheep, and I've always wanted to try cannibalism."

"I guess werewolves wouldn't have to worry about prions," Joe says, nodding.

"Well, if you're going to get Doc, I'm going to go bite Iskall. I know I don't got fangs right now but it'll be very funny either way," Stress says.

"Have fun!" Xisuma says, and even though he's still red, and no one has pants but Zedaph, and he feels vaguely sick without his helmet, he also feels something close to pure delight. Gosh. Werewolves, huh? What a concept, having a little pack. He'll have to make the most of it; they've already seen his face anyway, and not one of them have commented or looked him in the eyes. Clearly, it won't matter so much if Doc takes a while with the helmet.

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #xisuma #joe hills #zedaph #stressmonster101 #a bee fic #me vibrating at high speeds: WOLVES WOLVES WOLVES WOLVES WOLVES #the fact today is hermit-a-day-may xisuma day is coincidence i'm not doing it (although everyone should!) #but i figure it decent timing anyway

[thevoidstaredback]

"If I turn around and there's a hero, vigilante, anti hero, villain, anything or anyone related in anyway to the Justice League, I'm going to fucking lose."

It was quiet for a second, then, "Don't turn around?"

Red fucking Robin. "What did I just say?" Phantom turned on his heel to face the young vigilante.

The kid threw his hands up, "I told you not to turn around!"

"And yet here we are," he crossed his arms. "The hell do you want?"

"You seem awfully snippy today."

"Seeing as you and everyone under the sun has been stalking me, trying to get answers to questions I'm not going to answer, I think you can excuse my attitude."

With a huff, Red Robin also crossed his arms. "How do you know what I'm going to ask if no one else has been able to talk to you?"

"Because living beings are all the same. Curiosity of the unknown drags you around by your ear." Phantom turned back to continue walking away, "Now go away."

The kid matched his pace. "No way,"

His eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. "I have a meeting soon, kid. You can't come along." That was a total lie. He had nothing going on that demanded his attention now that Constantine had ditched him after getting the demon under control. Maybe he could drop by Fawcett and visit Billy?

"No you don't." This damn kid-! "You've been wandering aimlessly for the past hour."

Phantom turned again to face the vigilante. "First of all, stalking people is hella creepy. Second of all, my schedule is none of your damn business."

"Careful there, kid," Red Robin smirked, "You'll get scolded for having a potty mouth."

"I'm thirty-fucking-eight!"

"You're literally fourteen."

Phantom closed his eyes. "Nocturn give me patience," he then looked Red Robin directly in the eye, "We've had this conversation. I'm dead. I don't physically age. That doesn't change the fact that I have walked this planted for thirty-eight years. Is that simple enough for you to understand or do I need to dumb it down for you?"

Red Robin blinked, his mouth agape. What? Did he just- The nerve! The audacity! "I'll have you know," he huffed, "I'm smarter than Batman."

"He tell you that himself?"

"Yes." It was one of the only times Batman had ever praised him, so that interaction was held particularly close.

Phantom looked Red Robin up and down, his expression reading both 'are-you-serious' and 'what-do-want?-a-medal?' Without a word, he turned back to his path and began his march anew. Any attempts at conversation from Red Robin was ignored, much to the younger's chagrin. Maybe he'd go away if he ignored him long enough.

Phantom and Red Robin wandered for the better part of an hour, not so much as a word passing between them. Neither stopped for any reason, and neither broke the set pace. It could almost be considered a friendly stroll through the city, if one ignored the slight apprehension surrounding the two.

Red Robin took this time to observe Phantom. He'd never spent too much time around anyone from the JLD who wasn't Raven, so he took the opportunity to get to know another on the team.

Phantom insisted that he was thirty-eight, not fourteen, and that the reason he looks as young as he does is because he looks like he did when he died. Not a comforting thought in the slightest. He knew that, though, when B had briefed him on all the members of or associated with the Justice League.

His powerset was almost completely unknown. They'd all seen him use a flight/levitation ability, as well as some form of density shifting and a healing factor, but Red Robin was more than sre that Phantom had more up his sleeve than that. He worked as a part of the JLD team, so he had to have some magical understanding or capabilities. But Raven wouldn't tell him if she knew, no matter how much he pestered her.

Looking at the kid now, Red Robin seriously wondered if Phantom had a civilian disguise. Ether white hair, toxic green eyes, the glow he seems to give off, and the contrasting bright white and vantablack suit and gloves he wore could not be easy to hide.

There was also a slight sense of unease Red Robin felt when looking at or being around Phantom for a long time. He hadn't noticed it before, but now it was as obvious as a neon sign. It was a strange mix of Uncanny Valley and sinking horror. Why was he feeling like this?

Phantom stopped in his tracks in a dead end alley. Without turning around he said, "Alright, spit it out. What do you want to ask?"

Red Robin hesitated for a moment. Surely it couldn't be that easy? Was Phantom really going to answer his questions? He shook his head to snap himself out of it.

"Come on, kid," Phantom pulled a piece of chalk from his front pocket. "I don't have all day."

Red Robin wanted to scoff because he most certainly did have all day. But, he pushed it aside. He was about to get answers that not even the Justice League could get! He decided to start of easy. "When did you die?"

"Try again." was the growled response.

"What?"

"I said 'Try again'."

Okay, okay. Touchy. "Why'd you join the Justice League?"

"I was bored." It was clipped. Phantom's on edge. Why?

"What're the rest of your powers? I know you have more than what you've shown everyone."

Phantom walked to the wall and started to draw a door on it with the chalk. "Next question."

Red Robin rolled his eyes. "Fine. How did you die?"

Every movement from Phantom froze. Every minute, involuntary twitch, even the telling signs of breathing. For a long minute, nothing happened and Red Robin had the dawning sense that he'd just asked something he really shouldn't have.

Phantom drew a circle in the rectangle he'd drawn on the wall, completing the door. "I'm going to give you a piece of advice that you seem to have completely glossed over." The piece of chalk was hidden away as he gripped the now 3D door handle. "If you value your life, don't ask the dead how they died." He opened the door and stepped through before looking back at the red clad vigilante. "They won't be so nice about it." Then, the door closed and the chalk erased itself.

Part 6

Tag List:

@zaiothe4th @someonebored0100 @wolfeyedwitch @angelheartgamer @nymanders @princessbelix @luminanightfall @kgne-k @bianca-hooks123 @reigning-catsanddogs @sassywombatranchhorse @dontfightmecauseillcry @soul-lime @anarinette @serasvictoria02 @the-chaos-goblin-child @confusedshades @caicie @fantasticstoryteller @randomshtickidk @itsberrydreemurstuff @blueliac @i-love-mangoes @nymanders @highimpactemotions @anarinette @sleepingdead96

#part 6 #Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant #no ships #danny phantom #red robin #dc x dp #dp x dc #don't ask the dead how they died #it's a good way to get on a shitlist

[yueebby]

Ok so this is a random and weird scenario i thought of after watching some INTERESTING videos on YouTube, I know but I just need to tell someone(it involves lovesick!Gojo- and no this isn’t a request, more like a rant😭)

imagine- it’s summer and all the second year students are sweating and want something cool to eat. Satoru randomly brings in a watermelon and challenges the others to try and open it without any cursed energy or a knife, just pure raw strength. Nobody can do it except him and he laughs a bit before reader crushes the watermelon between her thighs and opens it just like that…IDK Y I THOUGHT OF THIS AND IDK HOW HE WOULD REACT TO THAT BUT I IMAGINE HE WOULD BE RED IN THE FACE AND LIKE ‘me next🙋‍♂️’ IM SRY IM AWARE THIS IS VERY WEIRD😭😭

2:35pm — gojo satoru

synopsis. a certain challenge makes gojo go feral for you

contents. fluff, CRACK, lovesick!gojo, he is (highkey) a pervert, everyone in jujutsu tech is sick of him

“The one and only Gojo Satoru is here to save the day~” The familiar drawl of a sing-song voice calls over the sound of the dingy fan that you and Shoko were huddling in front of. Both of you were sprawled on a tatami mat with the door wide hoping, hoping to catch a gust of wind.

The grin adorned on his face didn't falter when his only response was three annoyed groans.

“It is way too hot for your antics Gojo,” You look up from the fan to half heartedly glare at the white haired boy in front of you. He stares at you, blue eyes slightly wider than usual before he gulps. You brush it off, knowing that you probably looked like a mess, considering you had just finished training in the sweltering Tokyo heat.

Your usual uniform is long gone, replaced with the dress shirt that you wear below it. Even with the undershirt and your skirt, you’re still suffering from the particularly hot day, skin glowing in the sun as a silent testament.

Gojo is forcibly kicked out of his trance upon Suguru harshly bumping shoulders with him.

“Show them what we got,” Suguru’s smooth voice says. Your eyes follow down to whatever he was referring to.

Without any difficulty, Satoru holds up a large watermelon proudly. Your mouth nearly waters at the sight of the large green fruit. How refreshing!

“Ah you didn’t have to go through the trouble after your mission, Suguru!” You leap from your spot, a bright smile painting itself on your face.

The pleased look on Satoru’s face turns sour. “I was the one that brought the watermelon?” He lifts the large fruit, flexing the muscles that were showcased from his dress shirt being cuffed up to his forearms.

“I should be the one getting the thanks, it was my idea to get it in the first place,” Shoko wraps an arm around your shoulder.

The taller boys in front of you look sheepishly away under her stern gaze.

You wrap an affectionate arm around her, “You’d make a good wife one day Shoko.”

Gojo’s jaw drops incredulously, leaning closer into your face, “What about me? [Name]! Wouldn’t I be a good doting husband too?”

You lean away, flustered at his sudden confrontation. His intense blue orbs never leave your face, expectantly waiting for an answer.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Shoko snorts, shielding you from his heavy gaze. “Anyways, how are we going to cut this thing? You brought a knife didn’t you?”

…

There is a long silence shared between the four of you.

You think you see an irk mark appear on Suguru’s forehead.

“I clearly told you to bring a knife from the kitchen,” Suguru snaps his head to his white haired counterpart.

“Must’ve slipped my mind, heh,” Satoru whistles. “We can just break it ourselves, no?”

TEN MINUTES LATER—

“Ready,” Satoru’s smile grows wide. “Go!”

You watch expectantly as Shoko’s hand descends onto the watermelon in a swift chop. To your shock, the watermelon stays unharmed despite the legs of the wooden table below it creaking loudly.

“Wha–?” She furrowed her eyebrows.

Satoru shrugs, “Better stop smoking and start training. You’re falling behind~”

You and Geto have to hold Shoko back from lunging at the smug white haired bastard.

“Next challenger, step up!” Satoru announces.

Fueled with hunger and the desire to get your hands on the juicy watermelon that awaits, you sit down on the cement floor of the school with the watermelon in your lap.

You gently place the fruit in between your thighs, inhaling slowly.

Squish!

The watermelon breaks in half with a crunch.

“Oh,” You blink in shock, surprised that your plan managed to work. “I did it.”

Your joy is short lived when you realize that your legs are sticky as a result of the juices of the fruit. A sheepish smile makes its way onto your lips.

“Gah–?!” Gojo chokes on air as he watches your thighs glisten with the sunlight. Though his mouth is agape, no words seem to escape. He’s nearly certain that the heat rushing throughout his body is not from the sun.

Shoko whistles, squatting down to eye level with your thigh to assess the damage done. She gives your thigh a good squeeze, “Nice legs.”

You’re too flustered to hear Gojo growl from just a couple of feet away at Shoko’s shameless attempt at flirting.

“My face next.”

extras:

- the only reason why satoru forgot to get a knife was because he was practically skipping to you once he got through the gates of jujutsu tech. suguru was nice enough to spare these details from you.

- despite all sorcerers being able to detect cursed energy, gojo satoru is pretty exceptional, being able to mask his cursed energy usage. that, and you were too tired to even notice it. (he lightly coated the watermelon right when each person went up to break it. suguru noticed immediately, but wanted to see how the prank would play out).

#was i sober writing this? errrrr #kt.fantasies—! #gojo x reader #jjk fluff

[divinesangel]

— 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞?

pm me for an affordable, in-depth personal or soulmate reading! ko-fi.com/solreads

— 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

it's very likely for you to meet this person in a place where people are very outgoing, have a lot of passion, and they are always on the go. it could be a bustling city with a touch of a mystique energy, or a place where maybe religion or sacred places are prominent. i'm getting vibes of a vibrant café in a corner where you're able to feel and smell the aroma of freshly brewed coffee along with people's conversations and day-to-day life. everyone's on their own reality and each lost in their own world. however, amidst the crowd and these people, you catch a glimpse of someone who stands out, a figure exuding confidence and charm, also with a hint of determination and confidence. this is someone that from the very beginning you will notice that it embodies the energy of someone adventurous, daring, or someone with a fiery passion or energy that ignites curiosity within you. there is going to be an exchange of glances, almost as if it is an instant recognition, like an instant acknowledgement of a connection that transcends words. their vibe or energy is going to be quite enigmatic and there's a level of depth in them that will draw you in. you both will feel this magnetic pull and as you approach each other or by the moment one of you decides to do something, you will soon find yourself engaged in a conversation that flows effortlessly and where you both will feel the gentle butterflies. one of the things that you'll be noticing is how kind and compassionate this person is and how romantic they can be sometimes. it's the type of behaviour that will speak to your soul and make you feel a certain way, a way you haven't felt before. there is a sense of innocence and sincerity in this person that adds a spark of curiosity from them when it comes to you. together, you'll find yourselves immersed in a very lively exchange, sharing stories, dreams, and aspirations. it will be at this moment that you will realize that you've stumbled upon something truly unique and magical.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

you'll meet your soulmate in a place where the sun shines brightly and the sunlight pours in through wide windows, filling several rooms of the street with a warm, inviting glow. it's going to be a place where people go out to enjoy themselves, and during this day, a lot of people are going to be outside enjoying the weather and the warmth that it brings. everyone is going to be soaking up the sunshine and enjoying the simple pleasures of life. when it comes to you, i feel like that as you go about your day, you'll find yourself at a crossroads. this could be a part of your life where you could be facing a decision that weighs heavily on your mind. it could be a choice about your career, your relationships, or your personal goals. it's like you will feel torn between different options, unsure of which path to take, and anxious about the consequences of your decision and wondering if you're on the right path. this turmoil may make you experience sleepless nights, tossing and turning as worries and fears swirl in your mind. the nights seem to amplify your concerns, leaving you feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. and i feel like during this day that you will meet your soulmate, you will make the decision to go out and try to enjoy yourself more, instead of always being at home overthinking things. because despite the uncertainty and anxiety, you'll have the resilience and you'll be brave enough to throw yourself into your work and yourself with a lot of focus on determination. these uncertainties and anxieties might also have to do with past heartaches or disappointments. there's like a lingering fear of getting hurt again or a fear of opening up and being vulnerable. all stemming from the past. you'll be devoting yourself to your pursuits and trying to be more productive, with the aim of not thinking too much about the future. then, when you least expect it, this person will walk into your life. i feel like it's very likely for you to meet this person while they're working somewhere or they're helping someone with something. there's a sense of working on something that i'm picking up, and it's something that you will admire about this person. i feel like at first, you will admire them from afar, and i don't see you taking any steps towards this person, but i feel like there is going to be maybe a friend of yours that will introduce you to them, or perhaps there could be someone around you that knows this person that could introduce you to them.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

you will meet your soulmate in a place where there's a lot of people. it could be a very bustling urban setting where people seek to thrive and they are always busy. it's a very busy environment and i feel like when it comes to the place where you will meet them, it could be at a working event, a conference, or even a lively co-working space. there is a lot of energy filled with people hustling to achieve their goals and a lot of conversations on future plans. there is a legal sense to this, so it could be that this person might be someone in a higher position than you, or someone with a respectable job. in this connection, i feel like there could be a lot of ups and downs because at first the connection might not flow that very well and you could feel like there could be some tension and it's very likely that you won't really know whether this person likes you or not because of their cold behavior or an expressive self. at first, you could feel that there's not really much to do with this person or like maybe nothing else is going to be happening, but that's something that changes quite soon. it sort of feels like an enemies to lovers type of thing. as you get to know each other, you'll discover that they share your values and aspirations, they're very driven, ambitious, and determined to succeed, and you will find yourself in them. i feel like at the time you may not notice this part of you, but once you get to know them more, you'll figure out and discover that you're actually quite ambitious and determined as well. besides that, i feel like you'll find yourself discussing big ideas, making plans for the future, and supporting each other's dreams. you'll be able to navigate the ups and downs of life as a team, finding strength in each other's company, and of course you'll also share laughter, challenges, and moments of quiet understanding as your relationship deepens and evolves. eventually, you'll realize that this person is the one you've been searching for, and it's going to be quite funny for the both of you to look back and analyze how everything went down. from feeling tense around each other and not really knowing what to talk about or do around each other, to being together in a very loving and healthy connection.

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 !

hi! it's daphne here.

i'm currently offering personal readings for €5 and soulmate readings for €10 so don't hesitate to send me a private message if you're interested!

thank you for being here!

#pick a pile #tarot #free reading #personal readings #pick a card #pile 1 #pile 2 #pile 3 #pick an image #free tarot reading #tarot reading #pac tarot #pac #tarot messages #tarot pick a card #pac reading #pick a photo #level up journey #pick a picture #astrology #soulmate #astrology community #devi post #tarotcommunity #divination #tarot deck #witchcraft #astro posts #astrology notes #future spouse

[latenightdaydreams]

Please write about curvy reader with her 3 inches dick husband, Konig is reader's neighbor then helps her what's real sex feel like with his 10 inches cock😩

Can you imagine to difference😮‍💨 I'd want to cuck my husband🤭🤭🩷🩷

Let Me Love You Right (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, cheating

2.9k word count

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You’ve been married to Chris for eight years now, you both got married young and he’s your first and only. To say sex has been lack-luster… would be kind. You both waited for marriage, Chris’s idea. That meant you fell in love with him FOR him. You try to remind yourself that every day since finding out Chris only has a 3-inch cock.

Every time you have sex, you lie there looking at the ceiling while Chris moans loudly and gets off in six minutes. He doesn’t know where the clit is either and his finger game is weak. He just isn’t good in bed. The fact you catch him staring at a very slender woman online adds to it all, you’re a thick and curvy woman. He makes you feel rejected so it’s hard to enjoy anything with him. At some point you began to question if maybe you’re truly asexual because you became so turned off to sex and to him.

Then one day, your new neighbor moved in. You were sitting on your couch sipping coffee as you watched a moving truck pull in. You thought nothing of it and went on with your day. Your husband left for work so you decided to go outside and water your garden. You haven’t worked the last three years; you both have been trying for a baby, but nothing has happened yet. You’ve learned how to fill your time with small hobbies.

You got dressed in comfortable clothes and went outside. You turned the water on and began to pull the hose. As you pulled, it got stuck. Assuming you were outside alone, you began to curse the water hose, bending over to fix it and struggling. Just then you heard the sexiest Austrian accent from behind you.

König was about to go on a walk when he saw you leave your house, wearing tight black biker shorts and a tight white t-shirt. Your body was…perfection. He stood watching your breast bounce slightly with every step you take. Your hips sway so gracefully side to side. He picked the right house to move into. Hearing your struggle snapped him out of his lustful day dreams and began to approach you.

“Do you need help? Miss?”

He looked down at you, his eyes traveling over the curve of your plump ass. Imagining how soft it would feel to squeeze. When you turned to face him, his eyes dropped to your breast. Again, his mind went to imagining his hands squeezing them. He’s a man with big hands, and your breasts look like the perfect size to fill them.

As you turn your eyes meet the most beautiful sleepy pale blue eyes you’ve ever seen. The man towered over you as if you were a tiny ant. His body is massive and solid looking. His blonde hair was shining in the bright morning sun. His face is handsome, rugged, with some scarring. You felt yourself get turned on for the first time in years.

“N- no, I’ve got it. Thank you.” You caught his eyes wandering over your body.

“I’m König, I just moved in next door.” He held his hand out for you to shake.

“I’m y/n.” You put your hand in his, it looked so small. “The accent, are you German?”

“Austrian.” His thin lips pulled into a small smirk.

“Oh, sorry.” You chuckled from embracement.

“It’s okay, the accents sound similar.” He chuckled as well.

You both stood there for a while just letting your eyes drink the other in. You could cut the tension with a knife. His blue eyes returned to yours and he gave you a small smile. The rest was history. Everyday after your husband leaves for work, you’d see each other. Drink coffee together, he’d help you garden, just talking about your personal lives. Nothing sexual. That was until today.

Sitting at his kitchen table with him as you sip your coffee and chat just like you both always seemed to do. Today was different though, you both being more outwardly flirty with one another.

“Your husband is a lucky man Maus, I’d love a curvy housewife.” His eyes travel down to your cleavage before back up to your eyes.

His comment makes you blush, you playfully nudge his arm. “Yeah right.”

“No really, I bet he is all over you.”

“Not really,” you tap your nails on the mug in your hands.

“No?” König tilts his head, he’s aware that he’s prying but he can’t fathom a man having you and not being obsessed.

“Nope…” You look into his eyes. You debate on whether or not you want to disclose all of your marital issues to him or keep it light.

“May I ask why?” His eyes drop to your fingers tapping. He reaches his hand out and grabs your off the mug, caressing your soft skin with his thumb. “You can talk to me.”

“Promise you won’t judge or laugh?”

“Promise, Maus. You have my word.”

“So, when we dated, we never did anything sexual past kissing. Like traditional and all.”

König nods his head along, listening to your words as he sips on his own mug of coffee. His eyes follow your lips as you speak.

“When we actually… you know…fucked,” You and König chuckle, “He pulled it out and was incredibly small.”

König raises his eyebrow with curiosity, “Small?”

“Small,” you nod, “like three inches small.”

König sat with his jaw dropped looking at you in disbelief. Three inches? He’s bigger than that when soft. No way three inches can get past how thick you are…

“And how was that?” His hand squeezes yours slightly.

“Terrible. I didn’t feel anything. I’m pretty sure I’m still a virgin because it barely went in…” You chuckle slightly at how embarrassing this is. “We’ve been trying for a baby for YEARS now and nothing because I just have no sex drive. On top of all of this, I catch him gawking at skinny women constantly. Women that look nothing like me.”

You take a deep breath, feeling like you’ve been ranting. König still caresses your hand with his thumb.

“I think you’re beautiful. Perfect just the way you are.” He says in a soft and tender voice. “I also think it’s a shame he doesn’t please you sexually.”

You give him a warm smile before your eyes move to your hand in his. You look at the drastic size difference between both of your hands before looking back up to him.

“Why don’t you leave? Find someone new? Someone compatible?” König means himself.

“He’s all I’ve ever known.”

“Don’t you think you deserve romance? Passion?”

You can feel your face getting hot as he asks you this. You do want it. He is the reason the spark of desire was reignited in your life to begin with, but you can’t just tell him this. You can’t just have sex with your neighbor.

All the while you are inside your head, König looks at you. He takes in your features, the way you rest your head in your palm, how soft your lips look.

“Maus?”

“Hm?” You look up after being lost in thought. “Oh, I guess. I actually had a period of thinking I was asexual because I just didn’t have that desire or drive.”

“Do you still feel this way?”

“No,” you look back down at your hand in his.

A short period of time passes before König speaks up, “Do you find me attractive?”

Your eyes shot up to his shocked he was so forward. You hesitate for a while because you’re still married. Saying the truth might open up pandora's box, but you feel stuck, stagnant.

“I do…” you respond meekly.

“I think you’re attractive too.” König lets that linger in the air before continuing. “I desire you, and I think you feel the same.”

König tightened his hand around yours. He reached out with his other hand and caressed your face. You both look at each other for a while before you speak up.

“I do.” You lean into his hand that caresses your face.

“I don’t mean to cross lines, but I think I could love you better than your husband. I could appreciate your body better. I could fuck you better.”

His hand moves from your face to the back of your head, his fingers combing through your hair and grasp firmly. He tilts your head back slightly as his eyes roam down the curves of your jawline and neck. You felt a heat rush over your body.

König stands and walks closer to you, leaning in and kissing your neck tenderly. The warm sensation of his lips sends a chill down your spine. You don’t stop him even though you know you should. This would break your husband, but you don’t care.

Kissing up your neck to your ear he whispers, “Let me worship you, bitte.”

“What if I don’t like it?”

You’re still worried that it’s a you problem. What if you just don’t like sexual encounters?

König chuckled, “I can make you cum. Don’t worry.”

Your cheeks go hot as you laugh nervously. He pulls away and gently pulls you by your hand, “Komm mit mir”

You stand and follow him through his house to his bedroom, his bed a massive king size bed. The bedsheets are a dark gray color with a black comforter. He gently guides you to the room and lays you on the bed. Leaning over you, his lips find yours as you share a deep passionate kiss. His lips made yours actually tingle; you’ve never felt that before. His hands begin to trace the curve of your waist to your hip before moving up to your breast and squeezing.

König breaks the kiss and moves off of the bed. He gently takes your shoes off your feet and places them neatly by the bed. His eyes traveled over your body before pulling his shirt off to expose his physique to you. He can see the desire in your eyes, causing him to smile.

As he went to reach for the waistband of your leggings, you stopped him.

“What if you don’t like how I look?”

“I’ll love it, trust me.” He reassures you in a low soft tone.

Nodding your head, you let go of his hands and let him take them off. His eyes glide over your juicy thighs and the light blue cotton panties you’re wearing. Your legs are a little stubbly, you weren’t expecting to do this. You feel slightly embarrassed by the hair, but König doesn’t seem to mind as he glides his hands up your legs once they’re bare. His lips kissing from your calf up to your soft thighs; once there he begins to nibble on the soft flesh.

“Mien Gott, you’re so soft.” He whispers as he rests his kisses on your thighs more.

“I’m sorry I didn’t shave-”

“It’s natural. I don’t mind hair Maus.” He smirks.

You relax back on the bed as his hands go up to the elastic band of your underwear and pull it off. His eyes falling on the small bush between your legs as he smiles. He can’t wait to bury his face in it.

“Are you okay?” König asks as his eyes meet yours.

“Yeah,” You look down at him as he begins to spread your legs apart. Your heart beat is pounding and, in this moment, you begin to think about the life you wanted to build with Chris but then, oh god. You drop your head back on the bed.

König sticks his tongue out and begins to lightly flick over your clit. Instantly your legs begin to tremble and you moan loudly. Your hands find his hair and comb your fingers through it. You can’t believe oral sex can be this good. König stops licking your clit to suck it.

“No, no, please lick it.” You look down again, begging in a pathetic voice.

König nods and goes back to flicking his tongue rapidly over your clit. You had a long morning of sweating so your natural musk is strong and König is savoring the smell. Listening to your loud moans he slowly moves his finger to your pussy and teases the entrance. Slowly slipping his finger in your gasp. He loves the reactions you’re giving. It’s insane to think you’ve gone your whole life without feeling this pleasure.

“König,” you moan out loudly as he begins to pump his finger in and out of you quickly, your back arching. A new sensation consumes you as you scream out, your body trembling. König closed his eyes, smirking, and enjoying hearing you orgasm.

He pulls back and moves his finger once you relax. You prop yourself on your elbows and look at him, wondering why he stopped.

“Take your shirt off, Liebling.” König’s voice dripping with lust.

You sit up and pull your shirt over your head before reaching behind you to take your bra off. König watches eagerly to see your breast for the first time. Watching them full and heavy, come out from your bra makes his mouth water even more. He can’t believe how perfect you are.

König begins to pull down his jeans and you watch, jaw dropping once you see the outline of his erection. He pulles his boxer briefs down completely and you see his hard cock full for the first time. Not only is it thick but it's long. You can’t help but to stare and König notices.

“Don’t be scared, I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt.”

“How…how big are you?”

“Uh, ten inches, I think. A little over. But don’t worry, I won’t push you.”

“Ten?”

König laughs and walks to the bed and lays beside you. He moves his body so that you’re resting close to him while he is on his side. He leans down and kisses your breast, slowly making his way to your nipple to suck on it while he is lifting your leg up with one hand, and moving his cock to rub your pussy with the other.

“Are you ready?”

“I am.” Your voice is weak with pleasure of him touching you.

Moving his mouth from your nipple he begins to kiss your lips. He rests your leg over his body to keep your legs spread as he wraps that arm underneath the back of your head. He breaks the kiss to look at you as the other hand still on his cock slowly pushes into your slick tight cunt. König’s breath goes shaky from the pleasure it’s giving him. He slides his hand up your leg and holds it up for a better angle.

You look back at him and your hands grasp whatever they can find, his pillow and his forearm. Your eyebrows knit together as you moan out his name. His cock pushing deep inside of you like you’ve never felt before. Your walls clench tightly around his fat cock as you feel stuffed for the first time ever.

König begins to thrust into you quickly, his eyes traveling to watch your breast bounce with the motion. Panting hard as his body begins to glisten with sweat. Your sweet moans and sopping wet cunt driving him to his breaking point.

“Y/n,” König moans as he leans down to kiss your lips.

You move your hand from his forearm to his jaw eagerly pressing his lips into yours harder. Moaning into his mouth as his tongue pushes past your lips and begins to circle around every corner of your mouth.

You feel the same overwhelming feeling of pleasure, you know you’re about to cum. You try to turn your head to let out moans but König moves his hand from your leg to your face to keep you kissing him, his tongue dancing with yours as you begin to orgasm.

Without warning König pulls out and steps off the bed. Your body is still trying to calm down. You look at him as he grabs your legs and drags you to the edge of the bed. He rests your legs over his shoulders as his hands grasp your hips. He slips his cock back into your needy pussy and begins to thrust as hard as he can.

Your back arches and you reach out grabbing the bed sheets as you loudly moan König’s name. König has sweat dripping from his forehead as he looks down at you not being able to handle his cock.

“You can take it, Maus, I’m going to cum.”

“Please, cum. Please fuck your cock is so- big.” You moan now looking up at him. Your face contorted from the pleasure.

“Beg for it more.”

“Please cum, please cum in my tight little pussy.”

“Oh, fuck ja, mehr!”

“Please cum in me.” You whimper out as his thrust picks up even more, the sound of his hips slamming into your ass fills the room.

König listens to you beg, watching your eyes glaze over with a lustful look. He nods his head as you beg him to fill your precious little pussy full of his cum. He does.

“Y/n! Fuck!” König moans out, dropping his head back as his cock throbs deep inside of you.

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“Hey sweetie, did you have a good day today?” Chris asks as he walks to you and kisses your cheek.

“Yeah, I did.” You sit still thinking about König, excited for tomorrow.

“Did you do something different with your skincare routine? You look like you’re glowing.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Well, whatever it is, you should keep doing it.”

“Oh, I will.” You smile, holding your secret.

#konig #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig #konig cod #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig x reader smut #cod konig #könig call of duty #könig x you #könig x y/n #cod smut #könig x reader smut #smut #konig x female reader #konig x you #könig x curvy reader #konig x curvy reader

[chantiying]

Message from your inner child

Before to start, sorry for any mistakes or grammar error. English is not my first language. How to choose? Think of something you liked when you were a child (a game, a toy, a smell, a candy, your favorite stuffed animal) and try to remember you as a kid, take a deep breath and when you're ready, you and your inner child choose the image that drawn to you. Remember tarot is not set on stone and you can change your path whenever you want. This is for entertainment purposes. This reading is general so if it doesn't resonate with you just let it go

: ¨·.·¨ :

` ·. 🦋

╱|、

(˚ˎ 。7

|、˜〵

じしˍ,)ノ

TW. Direct or indirect mention of abuse, bulling, violence, familial violence, broken family among others.

Ok, let's go!!!

PILE 1

Hello my friend :) Do you remember how disastrous our childhood was? Do you remember that there were some people who hurt us? Remember when we were pushed aside from parties? Do you remember when we found out that sometimes the "love" of a couple is not two but three? Remember when we found out what infidelity meant? Come, here and close your eyes for a moment, because I want to tell you a secret but I don't want you to see me are you ready? Yes? Ok: the infidelity of our parents marked me

I know since then we don't know what it means to love or how to make a relationship work. I know it's a lot harder for you than it was for me. I know sometimes you wonder if you're loving too little or too much, I know you're scared of being harmed like mom and dad did. Do you still feel that strange feeling of isolating all noise with music or the TV on while we sit on the floor of the room begging for it all to end? I do love you, my friend :) I know it seems a little difficult, I know it seems a little hard to say and hear, I know you may not believe it because they made you doubt what it means to love someone, but, I'll let you in on another secret: I don't feel alone anymore. I've learned that sometimes we have to leave where the water overflows to build a better castle. I learned to be smarter and not to argue when it's not necessary, to stop talking where no one listens, to live with myself and with you.

Please, I know it's not easy, but I want you to start again, on your own, I want you to leave everything behind, to let the dragons (they are not bad I already talked to them and they said they are on our side) I want you to let them destroy what hurts us, and to start building your own fortress. I want to be your first beautiful relationship. I want that you love me because I love you and I will always love you. Please love me, okay? Let's be you and me (km little you, hehe) against everyone. I want to be your partner in crime and have us laugh together. I promise you that after that, we're going to smile more and forget what they did to us.

You also have to eat well, did you hear me? Oh and don't tell anyone, but, I'm craving our favorite sweet treat from when we were little, can you eat it for us?

I'm always with you, don't forget me, I'm you but in little. Oh, something else, let's pretend it's your birthday, yei ! let's be happy for today and close your eyes again and make a wish

Francis Forever Mitski, Innocent Taylor Swift. Grey, Purple, Blue. Leaves & Streets. Orange juice?, Music, Cartoons, Headphones, Magic Wand. Mulan (I'll Make a Man Out of You)

🧸🎂🎈🍫 🧸🪄🎈🍫

PILE 2

Hey!!! What's up, buddy? I am very happy, I feel that I have arrived where I needed to be, I feel that the sun has finally risen, I feel that all the changes I had to go through have now paid off. The knowledge, the peace, the beliefs, everything I needed to cultivate is bearing fruit. See? I even speak as someone cultured and intellectual 😸. At first I didn't notice it, I was incredulous, but then I started thinking and thinking and thinking, and I realized that the change started in the interior. I know, you don't have to tell me, it sounds very cheesy, it sounds silly, but, I must admit, even if it's a little embarrassing, that sometimes dreaming and being cheesy is kind of fun SO DON'T MAKE FUN OF ME 😾😹. Ok, let's be serious, mate. We went through a time where we didn't believe in anything and we didn't even know if we should believe but I kept doing it. I kept looking until I got to where I needed to and BOOM it all made sense. Our lives are going to get better, we're better now, we're brave, we're smart, we're strong, we're cool !! We still have to keep learning, we still have a long way to go, but I learned that learning is also fun. DON'T GIVE UP, OK? Ok. I know it's hard to grow, but we've always wanted this, we've never bowed down, we've never given up, we've always looked forward and we'll continue to do so

Keep in your heart the ones who help you and give you happy moments, then let's continue writing our story

No matter how many steps forward you take, whether it's one or two or a thousand, I'll always be there proud of where you've taken us and what an amazing person you've made us. I only ask you to never forget where you come from and where you are going, don't forget to be grateful, don't play with anyone's heart or time, that's not good 😾. I want you to appreciate the time and I want that, when you think that the world is against you, or that everything is going wrong, you can change it. Don't worry, I don't want you to blame yourself for everything, but I also don't want you to always blame it on others. I know sometimes it's hard, keep trying again and again, even if you're scared don't don't victimize yourself because heroes don't do that, and you and I have the prettiest cape, we have the cutest glitter and we have the best superhero story just for us, and don't be afraid, because superheroes can do anything and if we can't our superhero friends will help us 😼

Let's be great, let's be epic!

Disney, A lot of changes or currently changing something, Happiness, Beach, Comics, Sun, Summer, Ice cream, Watch, Hats, Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride, Hannah Montana, Vacation, Pop en español (Pop in Spanish), Extrovert, Mischievous, Spider man? Funny, Tangled (the movie)

🦸, 👨‍🚀, 🐱, 🚀

PILE 3

There are two of us, we are yourself and I, and it has always been like this ☺️, do you feel confused? Because I do, a little bit, you won't get mad if I tell you, right? You'll understand, right? I feel like everything is going so fast, I feel like I can't stop, I feel like I want to rest, I feel like when I wanted the geography or math hour to end and go out for recess to get some fresh air. why is everything going so fast? I want to understand what's going on, I want to, I really want to, but I can't. Do you no longer feel distrustful? Do you believe in other people yet? Because I don't do it yet 🥺, do we have friends yet? Or are we still alone? Are they still hurting us? Are we still unsafe? I don't want to be like that anymore, I promise you, (crying?) I want to have a lot of friends, I want to be loved, I want to play, I want to have fun, but I can't believe in others, do you? I don't want to be alone, I know I said it was you and me, and I still believe it, it's you and me against the world, but I also want us to be more against the world. I want someone to turn on the light and hold my hand, would you? I want you to hug me, talk to me, I feel like you're mad at me, at the little you from a few years ago, did I do something wrong? Do you think it was my fault that we were treated like this? Do you think it was my fault that we were disappointed? I'm a little annoyed with you too, not gonna lie. you know what? I was a kid but you have everything to change what happened to us, you pretend that it doesn't hurt anymore and that's a lie! you're still upset and scared, listen, it's ENOUGH! Do something for us. At least I'm angry but I want us to change this, I want us to be happy. I want us to be together and happy, I want us to be one, I want you to remember me, but not only the bad but the good as well, remember what we like, remember the watercolors, the music we liked, remember the sun, the window, remember the yard, remember the stories that mom/dad used to tell us. Remember Mom/Dad. Remember the puddles after the rain. Please, I'm not asking you to want to be a child again to do everything differently, I'm asking you to connect with me so that our creativity flies, so that you know where to go, so that you can start something new.

The magic is in us, accept us, what you don't want to let out, is what makes us most beautiful

You will get what you want, but don't want everything, don't be ambitious. Don't forget us, don't forget you, never forget yourself.

Sadness, Grudge, Sobbing, Poverty (both spiritual and economic), Pranks, Bullying, Grass, Secret place, 8 years? Cold, Scams, Rain, Mirror, Emojis. Monsters, inc. As a child, Madeline The Person. J's lullaby (darling I'd wait for you), Delaney bailey. All I want, Kodaline. Rises the moon, Liana Flores

ꗃ🗝₊˚⊹♡ 𓉞 . ⸙͎｡˚⋆ 𓋼

Hi guys! Sorry for the late update. To be honest I struggle being consistent in what I do, but I'm trying (no, I'm really trying) to be more consistent.

Today, is children's day in my country, so I decided to do this spread for you all, because I consider that connecting and embracing our inner child is one of the most healing things we can do. So happy Children's Day !!

Alic (Chanty) 🪽

#tarot #tarot reading #tarot asks #tarot cards #tarot tumblr #tarotblr #pick a card #tarot and astrology #tarotcommunity #pick one #pick a picture

[blairrwaldorfs]

Still Love You Anyway

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joe just got a new haircut and you have mixed feelings about it.

Author's Note: This was requested by @readergf, so thank you for that! I miss writing Joe, so here's a little something something :)

Wordcount: 1K

Getting home on a Friday afternoon was such a relief for you. You were exhausted for the week, and you were ready to curl up with your nice warm blanket and just watch TV all weekend long. You just hoped Joe also felt the same because you honestly didn’t want to do anything or go anywhere else. The thought of you being in his arms as you exited the tube was the only thing that kept you going. Walking down the street, you watched as the sun set on the horizon, reflecting between the tall skyscrapers. You took a deep breath and pulled out your keys as soon as you arrived at the flat.

The flat was quiet, and you figured maybe Joe wasn’t home yet. Kicking off your shoes, you sighed in relief and flopped yourself on the sofa for a minute and closed your eyes. Then, a buzzing sound and a quiet clatter from down the hall made your eyes fly open.

“Joe?” You called out.

No answer.

Getting up from the sofa, you made your way down the hall and turned the doorknob of the bathroom door, only to find it locked.

“Joe, are you in here?” You asked.

“Oh, you’re home!” Joe exclaimed through the other side. “I didn’t think you would be home early.”

You furrowed your brows, wondering what was going on inside there.

“Yeah, I was tired, so I decided to leave a little early.” You replied. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

It was unusual.

Since when did you both lock the bathroom door? You were comfortable enough in this relationship where you both don’t lock doors anymore. The sound of buzzing started again, and your eyes widened when you realized what it was.

“Joe, what are you doing?” A hint of panic in your voice.

“Almost done, darling.” Joe answered.

After a minute, the buzzing stopped, and the doorknob was unlocked. A loud gasp immediately escaped from you as soon as Joe had swung the bathroom door open. You stood there with wide eyes, your jaw dropped on the floor, and your feet glued to the ground. You couldn’t move or say anything, while Joe gave you an amused smile.

“I’m guessing you don’t like it?” Joe’s smile suddenly fades when you haven’t said a word for the last minute or so.

“No.” You cleared your throat when you heard your voice croaking. “I—”

You clamped a hand over your mouth and slowly walked towards him.

His head was buzzed.

Buzzed!

The crime scene of his perfectly brown curls were scattered all over the bathroom floor. Not that he had his hair long for a while now but still!

The crime!

“Wh…Why?” You asked, blinking repeatedly, and hoping this was just a dream.

“It’s for Warfare, darling.” He shrugged. “It’s for a role. It’ll grow back.”

You watched as he ran his hand on his now buzzed head, and you couldn’t help but mourn over his beautiful brown curls. Not that he didn’t look good. Joe always looked good no matter what his hair was, but the curls! 

Oh, how much you would miss running your fingers through them.

Slowly, you reached your hand above his head, and Joe couldn’t help but chuckle. He watched as your shaky hand slowly grazed over his new haircut, and you bit your lower lip trying your best not to make a reaction. You noticed his features were more prominent with this new look of his. His chocolate button eyes looked bigger—beautiful. His cheekbones were more sharp. 

“It’s okay.” Joe laughed softly, bending down to clean all the pieces of his hair on the floor. “You can tell me the truth.”

“Not that I don’t like it.” You murmured. “It’s just that… I’m going to miss running my fingers through those curls.”

Throwing the pieces of his hair in the bin, Joe walked towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning in to give you a soft kiss on the lips.

“It’ll grow back pretty quickly.” Joe reassured you. “And you could tug on my hair as much as you want.”

You chuckled softly, running your hand over his buzzed head again.

“Hm…” You studied him for a moment.

Joe laughed softly, pressing another kiss on your lips. You let out a soft hum as you pulled him closer to your body. You deepened the kiss and let your hands immediately reach up to where his hair was only to be met by his buzzed head.

No hair to tug. No curls to run your fingers through.

This was torture for you. 

“This is so unfair.” You groaned softly, pulling away from the kiss.

Joe laughed again, shaking his head as you gave him a small pout. He reeled you in his arms and walked you back to the living room, his soft hands softly caressing your arms. 

“How was your day?” He asked.

You flopped yourself on the sofa and said, “Long. Rough. I was ready to just go home. I didn’t expect my boyfriend to be buzz cutting his hair the moment I did.” 

Joe let out a laugh as he buried his face on your neck, breathing you in. You could feel the sharp edges of his hair on the line of your jaw tickle you softly. You couldn’t help but laugh and wrapped your arms around him.

“It tickles.” You said.

Joe smiled through your skin and softly rubbed his head against your jawline, making you laugh. 

“Okay, okay. Now, you’re like a cat with sharp fur.” You teased, your hand finding his head again. “Although, I’m getting used to this.”

Joe laid his head on your lap as you smiled down at him, softly caressing the sharp edges of his newly hair. 

“Be honest, does it look bad?” Joe asked.

“No,” You chuckled softly. “It’s new for me, but you are still beautiful.”

Leaning down, you planted a soft kiss on his lips, making Joe smile through the kiss. 

“Still love me?” He asked, his chocolate button eyes soft and deep. 

“Always.” You smiled. “No matter what your hair is, I will still love you anyway.”

Sitting up on the sofa, Joe smiled and pulled you in his arms, a soft kiss planted on your hair. You sort of found it funny that he asked you that question. Although the look was new to you, he was still your Joe. 

Always.  The End.

***********

Taglist:

@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @browneyes8288 @bylermaxmayfield @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna @emma77645 @indulgence-be-thy-name @readergf @ladamari68 @1paire2vans @d4rk4ng3l86 @paleidiot @josephquinnsfreckles

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader #Joe Quinn x Fem!Reader #Joseph Quinn Fics #Joe Quinn Fics #Joseph Quinn Fanfics #Joe Quinn Fanfics #one shot #blairrwaldorfs #still love you anyway

[mountainsandmayhem]

Aisle Amore

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader Summary: You truly never know who you might meet in the grocery store. CW: no smut, all fluff. Flirting, mention of divorce, talks of food, more adorable flirting. Word Count: 3.4k AN: I've gone soft!! I couldn't stop thinking about how the couple in Wonderful Tonight and Netflix & Chill met and even though no one asked, this is exactly how they met. I worked in a grocery store for almost 15 years and I can tell you right now that I would to SPRINTING to the pasta aisle. Special thank you to @mermaidgirl30 for beta reading and both her and @littlevenicebitch69 for helping me come up with a title. Dividers by @saradika-graphics

To you, there’s nothing worse than asking for help. You’ve been fiercely independent your entire life, and these snapped ligaments have been testing you. Your friends say they don’t mind helping, but YOU mind them helping. The pain in your ankle has finally subsided enough that you can put a little weight on it and only use one crutch.

Freedom! 

You shut your laptop at 6 pm, change into something that isn’t pyjama pants and begrudgingly put on a bra. The first stop on your newly found freedom tour is the grocery store. Thirteen year old you would be appalled at how excited you are over this. You jot down all the ingredients you’ll need to make homemade pasta, marinara sauce and meatballs. 

Living in downtown DC has lots of perks, one of them being you can walk to the grocery store that’s just around the block. After gingerly testing your ankles a few times you decide you can walk there. Your dad’s voice echoes through your head, “This family doesn’t cry, take care of yourself, don’t depend on anyone but you”. 

The walk there is easy, it feels good to be out in the summer evening sun, soaking in the vitamin D that you’ve been missing out on the last few weeks. You grab one of those small baskets with wheels and head into the store. It might be dramatic, but it’s been almost three weeks since you’ve been out on your own and you feel that same hyped elation you had at 16 when you got your license and your parents allowed you to go out on your own the first time. Except at 16 you picked up your friends and went to the record store, you were much cooler in your youth. 

“Stick to the list,” you say to yourself, realizing you’re slowly becoming just like your mother. That’s fucking depressing. 

The first items are olive oil and flour, you crutch along, the sounds of metal clicking and the rubber bottom squeaking following you as you move along the shiny white tile floor. A song you vaguely remember hearing during your childhood plays overhead, Eric Clapton singing about a woman looking lovely. The bakery must have fresh bread, and the delicious scent of it makes your mouth water. 

Focus! 

As you turn down the pasta aisle, you brush past a man in a suit who’s looking at the canned pasta sauces, poor sap, and stop about ten feet away from him. The small bag of flour you need is on an easily accessible shelf but of course, there’s only one left and it’s all the way at the back. 

Marcus holds up a jar of canned marinara, silently humming along to Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton. He swears he hears his grandmother on his mother’s side rolling in her grave. She wasn’t Italian, but owned a restaurant and was definitely looking down at him ashamed that he was BUYING something she taught him to make.

Sorry grams, he thinks, just as someone hobbles past him, vanilla wafting behind her, temporarily replacing the scent of the fresh bread he’s also going to pick up. His grandmother might come back just to slap him for this dinner tonight. Granted, he did just return from seeing his ex and her new boyfriend so maybe she’d take pity on him. Bake him those gooey chocolate chip cookies he loved so much. 

As he turns to head toward the pasta he sees a woman who quite frankly takes his breath away. She’s so beautiful that he almost can’t take her all in at once. Her bare legs are toned and tanned, wrapped in long black biker shorts, paired with a plain grey t-shirt and unzipped black hoodie. One high top converse laced up on one foot, the other in an uncomfortable looking boot. Her hair is in a low messy bun with almost too perfectly placed pieces along her neck and face. She seems to invade every ounce of him, until all he can see is her and all he can smell is warm vanilla. His mouth goes dry, and his heartbeat fills his ears. 

This next bit happens so quickly that he doesn’t have time to even think about it. But you would later describe it as not one of your finest moments, and he would describe it as the moment that changed his life. 

He watches as you reach above your head, raising up on the tippy toe of your good foot. As you lean forward, your hollow aluminum crutch slips out from underneath you and falls to the ground. An echoing tinny bang startles you and you stumble, putting too much pressure on your broken foot. The sweetest sounding “Ouch! Motherfucker,” leaves your pouty pink lips as Marcus rushes to catch you. 

“Whoa,” he says as he reaches out to steady you, one hand wrapping around your hip, the other cupping your elbow, helping you off your injured leg. “Are you ok?” 

Your cheeks flush as you look up at him. “Sorry, thank you.” 

Your bright blue eyes wash over him, and something tugs behind his heart. Eric Clapton singing "Oh my darling, you are wonderful tonight" as he stands there temporarily stunned, unsure of where he is or what is name is. It's just you.

It doesn’t make any sense, you could be married for all he knows, but something about you draws him in. He didn’t think he’d feel this way again for a very long time, but he needs to find a way to keep talking to you. 

“Let me get that for you,” he says, his hand moving from your elbow, reaching up and easily plucking the flour off the shelf. 

“Thanks, I could have gotten it.” You say and he fights to stop from laughing. He can tell that you’re not someone who asks for help. No, you’re independent and strong willed. And fuck if that doesn’t just make that tug behind his heart pull that much harder. 

“I know you can, you just scared me.” He looks down at you softly as you stare up at him. 

He’s suddenly very aware that he still has one hand on your hip. Your shirt had ridden up as you wobbled, and the skin of your hip is soft and warm against his palm. He finds himself wondering if the rest of you is just as comforting. Just as an inviting. The light scent of your vanilla perfume fills the small space between the two of you. 

“Look,” he says, finding it inside himself to peel his hand off you now that you’re steady, placing your flour in your basket and bending to grab your crutch. “My grandma is already cursing me from heaven for buying canned sauce and boxed pasta. Can you please let me help you?” 

You open your mouth and then close it, almost like you’re trying to come up with a reason to not let him, so he quickly adds, “For my sake.” 

You laugh through your nose, shaking your head and taking your crutch from this incredibly handsome stranger. 

Please don’t be married. Or a total creep. 

“Smooth,” you say teasingly. 

He tugs at his white button up shirt collar. “Is it hot in here?" He fakes a dramatic cough, "I swear - she’s watching me.” 

You look up at the white painted ceiling of the grocery store. “OK, grandma. Chill. I’ll let him help me.” 

When you look back at him he’s smiling from ear to ear, and if you thought he was handsome before; well, fuck, there’s not even a word to describe how unbelievably charming he looks right now. 

He looks down at your basket before saying, “Do you have a big list?” 

“Umm,” you say holding out the special lined paper you have to make grocery lists. “I have a few things, ya.” 

His thick fingers brush lightly against yours as he takes the list. You can’t help but notice that he’s not wearing a wedding ring, score, his nails are trimmed short and his cuticles are nicely manicured. You assume he must have some sort of fancy office job, like a lawyer or an accountant. He seems to radiate stability and you didn't realize you could be so aroused by fingers.

“Are you making pasta? And sauce?” He asks as his brown doe eyes scan your list. 

“I am,” you say proudly. You might not be a world famous chef, but you take pride in your cooking abilities. 

He smiles back at you again. “Stay here,” he says softly, “I’m gonna grab a cart.” 

As he turns to walk away, taking your basket and his sauce with him, you notice the way his grey suit jacket clings to his broad shoulders. Accountant by day, muscle model by night? Muscle model? Great, he’s broken your brain. 

It doesn’t take long before you hear the distinct rumbling of the plastic wheels of a shopping cart heading your way. Just as your handsome stranger comes back into the aisle “At Last” by Etta James starts to play. 

“I’m Marcus, by the way,” he says, grabbing a box of pasta on the shelf and sitting it next to his sauce in the top part of the cart. 

You say your name and notice the tiniest glint in his eye as the sound of it wraps around him. “Well then, we’d better get going on this list.” 

He moves slowly, allowing you to set the walking pace. He’s taken your list and the entire thing feels almost too domestic, like you can envision yourself doing this every weekend with him for the rest of your lives. Maybe there would even be a kid in that little part where he puts his boxed pasta and canned sauce. 

“Alright, so we covered names and who grew up where. So, what do you do for a living?” You ask, snatching a bottle of olive oil off the shelf. 

“I - uh - I work in law enforcement,” he says. 

You look at him, then his tie, then back at him. With a hint of amusement in your voice you say, “Pretty fancy dress code. What are you? Like FBI or something.” 

“Yes, actually. And now that you know that, I miiiight have to kill you.” 

You laugh, “Sure know how to put a girl at ease, Agent Pike.” 

The way you say agent, all teasing and flirty, goes straight to his cock. He’s been called Agent Pike thousands of times over his career but it’s never sent a shiver down his body like that before. 

He runs a hand over his patchy scruff. “I’m kidding. About the killing part, not the FBI part.” 

“Thanks for clarifying,” you laugh.

Whitney Houston’s voice floats across the store, singing about dancing with someone who loves her. 

Neither of you is particularly paying attention to your list or what aisle you’re in. You snake up and down each aisle, both of you occasionally grabbing something you need. 

“What about you?” He asks. Something about the way he asks a question seems different. It’s like when Marcus asks something he’s genuinely asking, not just trying to force conversation. With every answer you give his eyes focus on yours, he nods and seems curious and excited to hear what you have to say. 

The bar is truly in hell if I’m turned on by a man who’s just treating me like a human. 

“I run a small online store for my, umm, for my designs.” This part is always awkward, men change how they treat you once they find out what you do for a living. You avoid his eyes, he’s so goddamn handsome and you’re already disappointed that he’ll soon give you an ick with how he’ll respond to your career, how all men respond. 

“Your designs? Are you an artist?” His eyes light up and he stands a little taller when he asks, he must love art. He’s going to be thrilled to find out your best friend owns a gallery, and probably even more thrilled when he learns you hurt your ankle falling off a step ladder she had you posing on as she painted you, and yes, you were completely nude. 

“No,” you laugh. “I design clothing. Sort of.” You continue avoiding his eyes and chew on the inside of your cheek as you grab some dried oregano and place it in the basket. 

“Hey,” he says softly, stopping by the spices, “You don’t have to tell me something you don’t want me to know.” 

“It’s not that. It’s just,” you stop, glancing up at his warm chocolate brown eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows, and you have the sudden urge to sink your teeth into his neck. “Men just usually treat me differently once they know.” 

He narrows his eyes at you and his lips curl into a tight lipped and curious smile. “That’s clickbait. Now you have to tell me.” 

“Or you’ll kill me?” You laugh. 

“Yes, FBI remember,” he says sarcastically. 

You take a deep breath through your nose before you begin. “Ok, I design and sell lingerie.” You try to sound as casual as possible, smiling sweetly at him before you start walking again. 

Marcus doesn’t follow along so you look over your shoulder at him. Is he blushing? 

“Well,” he says, clearing his throat and avoiding your eyes. “I don’t see how that would make someone treat you differently.” 

“Then why are you blushing, Pike?” You flutter your lashes at him as he catches up to you in the aisle. 

The pink of his cheeks deepened, “I’m not blushing. Pretty sure I got a sunburn when I grabbed the cart.” 

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard that being indoors during sunset is a very dangerous UV time.” You joke. 

He laughs, “You’d be shocked how many people don’t believe it.” 

You both laugh as you head towards the produce department for your tomatoes and onions. Elvis’s ‘Can’t Help Falling In Love’ comes over the speakers, and even though other people are shopping, it feels like it’s being targeted at just the two of you. You pluck a few tomatoes from the shelf and he opens the little plastic bag for you to place them in. 

He takes a breath to start speaking and you brace yourself for the inevitable. All men do it. They all either ask what your company is called so they can look up your Instagram later or they’re bold and flat out ask you to model some of your designs for them. 

“Where’d you learn to make pasta?” He asks, his voice quivering at the closeness of your body to his. 

“Umm, I sort of did an Eat, Pray, Love thing recently.” You say quietly, smiling up at him. It’s the tiniest movement, but you swear his eyes flick to your lips as your hand brushes against his while you reach into the bag. Your heart is pounding behind your ribs, it’s almost unfair how handsome he looks under these fluorescent lights. 

“Oh? Like you went to Italy?” His voice is low and nervous as he watches you picking up tomatoes, squeezing them gently and smelling them. Carefully choosing the best ones. 

“Yes. Without spilling my whole life story, I got married young and then divorced a few years ago. I just kind of needed a hard reset on myself.” You drop two more tomatoes in the bag and then side step, or more more like side hobble, to the onions. 

“Huh,” he says, “I can honestly say that I know exactly what you mean by that.” 

You both smile at each other, you swear you can see his pulse flutter in his neck before he says, “Unfortunately, I think we have everything on your list,” he finishes off his sentence by saying your name and it sends an explosion of butterflies in your lower belly. You don’t know if you’ve ever met someone who makes you feel like you have somehow known them for your whole life but is also brand new. 

“Sorry. You probably have places to be and I’m -“ Your voice trails off when he slowly steps even further into your space. 

“That’s not what I meant,” he says softly, his fingertips brushing against yours causing a buzzing up your arm. Just then ‘I knew I loved you’ by Savage Garden rains down from the speakers. Marcus laughs gently and continues, “Is it just me or has the music been interesting in here tonight?” 

You move your pointer finger just a hair so it brushes against his, “ya, sounds like the crab from The Little Mermaid is in charge.”

A laugh from his stomach passes his lips, it’s joyous and melodic and even though you’ve just met him, you want to make him laugh like that for the rest of your life. He’s smiling so big that you can see all his straight white teeth. His head tips forward slightly and the skin around his eyes crinkles. You’re both so close, he smells like mint and a new book and everything around you seems to fall away, blurring around the edges. It’s overwhelming. Dizzying even. He’s the one. You can’t explain it, but you were meant to be in this grocery, with this annoying boot and crutch. 

“That’s not quite the comparison I would have used, but yes.” His eyes dance around yours, still laced with amusement and happiness. “Is he a crab or lobster?” 

“I think he’s a crab,” you say, pulling your hand back from his to stop yourself from leaping off that cliff and into his arms.

“I think he’s a lobster,” he counters, stepping back but never breaking the connection of his eyes with yours. 

As you head towards the checkout you glance towards the shopping cart nervously, remembering that you walked here. 

Both of you pay for your groceries in a comfortable silence and he scolds you teasingly for trying to grab your bags. “Grandma is still watching.” 

The two of you head for the exit. “Did you park somewhere?” 

“No. I can take them from here,” you’re not going to let this man drive you somewhere or walk you home. That’s ridiculous. You are strong and you’ve already impeded his life enough. 

He lifts his eyebrow suspiciously and turns just a touch so you can’t reach your bags. “You walked here, didn’t you?” 

“It’s really fine, Marcus. It’s not far. Thank you for your help. You didn’t need to do that.” 

“I have an apartment that way,” he says, nodding his head in the same direction you need to go.

“Oh that’s very forward of you, but I know better than to go to a secondary location with a stranger.” And he does it again, that beautiful, happy laugh. “I’m in the same direction.” 

You walk down the quiet street. People always say they wouldn’t want to live downtown because it’s too noisy, but truthfully, after the work crowd disperses for the evening and the dinner rush parts, it’s quite peaceful. 

“How sure are you that he’s a lobster? Willing to make a bet?” 

He looks over at you cautiously. “Alright. I’ll play along. I’m 100% sure he’s a lobster. What’s the bet?” 

“Wow. Marcus Pike, does the FBI know you’re such a risk taker?” 

He says your last name and follows it with, “Quit stalling, what’s the bet.” 

“Ok ok. Once I’m off all the painkillers. If he’s a crab, I make you REAL pasta. If he’s a lobster, you take me out for real pasta.” 

You both stop at the same time in front of the same building, “This is me. So is it a bet?”

Marcus pulls a key fob out of his pocket, “This is also me. And yes, we have a bet.” 

You cross the lobby together, you select your floors and exchange phone numbers on the way up and then he finally gives you your bags. 

“Thank you,” you say, smiling at him sweetly as the elevator approaches your floor. “I appreciate you using your grandma to help me.” 

He covers his heart with his hand. “I would never!” 

As the elevator comes to a halt he glances up at you sheepishly and your heart almost breaks open right then and there at how devastatingly handsome and heart meltingly adorable he is all at the same time. 

You smile like a damn fool the moment you’re out of that elevator. Of all the ways you thought your night was going to go, it did not involve a very charming stranger making you all nervous and delusional. 

The second you get inside your apartment you fight the urge to prove yourself right and cash in on our dinner, but you already miss him, so you text him. 

Tag list:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut  @sullyrocky44 

@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog

@pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya

@javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey

@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81 @littlevenicebitch69

#pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus pike x you #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike #the mentalist #pedropascal #pedro pascal #pedrohub

[chernabogs]

I can see an entire bouquet matching Malleus 😭 Calla lily, Ivy, Red Salvia, NATSURIUM and White carnation with pecks of Daffodil and Fern

Don't feel obligated to use all of them! Chose whichever you find most suitable! I just could stop with one alone, the more prompts i read the more i had this idea for a story in my head

I think you and I had the same idea cooking LMAOOO I hope I did this well! <3 Thank you for the request!!

Sin Eater

Inc: Malleus, Reader, a sin eater, and one advisor WC: 3.4k Warnings: Heavy discussion of grief and coping with loss Flowers: Calla Lily (something at first sight), Ivy (we’ve always been friends but we were never just friends), Natsurium (I refuse to bury you), Daffodil (a god bows before a mortal), Fern (In a world of magic, the greatest miracle was you... subtly implied) Summary: A quiet conversation in a hall between a prince, a starving idol, and a body.

Their arrival is marked with the sombre chiming of Dragon City’s bells, which is the only reason Malleus knows they’re approaching Black Scale. The window of the bedroom you shared is wide open, letting in both the breeze and the song as he stands so still that one may consider him to be a mere statue on display. He feels equivalent to one; his breath is shallow, his body cold, and his expression far away enough that he hardly registers the carriage approaching. 

“Your highness?” A faint voice speaks by his right side. Malleus’ finger twitches at the sound as his emerald gaze slowly slides from the streets below to the advisor who is now anxiously twisting her sleeve. He can hardly remember her name—advisors come and go so often that they’ve become a blur in his mind—but he’s taken to calling her Scops due to the owlish stare that she always seems to wear around him. “The sin eater is here.”

Malleus stares for a moment before he looks back down to the courtyard. The carriage door is open, and a figure is now standing on the stone, speaking with one of the guards. The discussion is brief, ending with the guard walking to the doors and the figure looking upwards at the palace walls. A golden mask conceals their face, capturing the rays of the sun which battle through Briar Valley’s ever-present clouds, and they wear a simple black funeral suit. 

“I see that.” He replies curtly, his voice ungiving on how he’s really feeling. “They arrived quite quickly, didn’t they?” 

“I suppose they have,” Scops steps a bit closer to the window to look down at the sin eater. “Strange, really. It isn’t like their profession is a competitive market anymore.” 

Sin eaters used to be far more prominent in Briar Valley back when it was still Briar Nation, and old traditions were held to a greater esteem. Unfortunately, the changing of times meant the dismantling of old organizations and beliefs, rendering the sin eaters as nothing more than a token piece in a funeral party. Perhaps once they were esteemed in a religious fashion—but not anymore. Now they will sit for anyone, so long as they get their meal. 

You had always admired the old traditions, though. He remembers your avid interest in his family’s history, and the many nights you’d waste away in the library, reading tome after tome in delight. You had been the spearhead of a new age for old beliefs—revamping Briar Valley’s tourism through the demonstration of habits long dead—and you had made a difference. That’s why there is a sin eater here today. 

Malleus dislikes their presence, however. Them being here means that what he’s going through is not just a simple dream. He exhales through clenched teeth and forces his shoulders to relax as he turns on his heel and nods. 

“Regardless, it’s best not to keep guests waiting.”

_____________________________________________________________

The hallowed hall in which you lay is silent, even with the presence of the sin eater looming over your shrouded form. How they managed to move quickly enough that they arrived before Malleus did is something he decides not to question—nor does he question how they knew of the hall to begin with. Their profession is one that draws the most peculiar of magic users into it. Like a bloodhound, they caught your scent and followed it to the room. He’s surprised the guards who have been standing watch over you for a day now permitted them to enter. 

Malleus enters alone and waves for the room to be sealed. He notes the hesitation in his guard’s body language before they oblige, stepping away to pull the great wooden doors shut with a resounding boom that stirs a pair of birds residing in the rafters. Their wings flutter in distress as Malleus spares them a passing glance before returning his focus on the figure ahead. The sin eater has turned to look back at him, and he sees upon closer inspection that the mask they wear lacks a mouth. They incline their head in greeting before speaking in a surprisingly clear tone considering their facial obstruction. 

“Your grace. Forgive me for the intrusion before your arrival; I merely wished to prepare in advance.” Their voice is soft and low as they touch a hand to the place above their heart. Malleus hardly reacts to their words as he brushes past them to where you lay, body enshrouded in a white sheet with a torc affixed upon your neck. His fingers brush along its form; forged of mystium and gifted to you as a token by him. It was the closest he could get to a marriage declaration in the eyes of the Senate. 

“It’s hardly my place to prevent a sin eater from completing their role.” He replies languidly as his fingers skim off of the torc to rest on your chest. Stiff, still, and cold against his fingers. “I just wish you had not come to begin with.” 

He doesn’t wish to have you buried quite yet, but he knows he’s already pushing the limit of how long he can keep you. He kneels by the platform that holds your form as his fingers brush along the shroud that hides you. If he could, he would drag you off of this macabre display and back into the rooms you shared for so many decades together, to wrap you in his arms and pretend this isn’t happening. 

But that was foul. Utterly, utterly foul. Your body would putrefy and decay while he clung to a false hope of resurrection. 

No, the sin eater is here now. He just doesn’t want you out of sight quite yet. 

“Many do not welcome me, but I have never left without gratitude.” The sin eater replies softly. Like a god before a mortal, Malleus’ ethereal features are painted into a stony expression, his gaze still distant. He hardly feels a part of this world right now as he hums quietly in turn. 

“Perhaps.” He muses as his fingers toy with the shroud before he turns to look at the sin eater. Like his own face, their mask is a stony expression, their eyes concealed from his seeking gaze. If they were to not move and speak then they could easily be dismissed as one of the many statues adorning the hall. “How shall we proceed?” 

“Do you feel ready to proceed?” They posit as they gesture to your form. 

Malleus rises back to his feet but doesn’t remove his hand from your body. The pungent scent of flowers—used to disguise the sweetness of decay—wafts up with the abruptness of his motion. “The opportunity to refuse has long passed. I am aware that there is a feast to be had—that, they regaled me of this back when they were still alive.”

You had been enamoured by the concept of Briar Valley funerary rites throughout your time in life. He remembers thinking it to be grim when you would speak of them, and rather anxiety-inducing when you began to plan for your own. He always knew that your status as a human meant that you would join the stars long before he did—he had simply not wanted to think about it, though. In the end, your efforts to establish your own postmortem care had saved him a great deal of distress these past few days.

Your ability to think far ahead had been one of the many aspects he had loved about you. 

“Indeed, and I am delighted to see one is set for me.” The sin eater drifts off of the steps of the platform towards the far side of the room, where a table lay with an array of foods on it. Wine, dates, meats, and a variety of other luxuries decorate pristine plates and spotless cutlery. He had spared no expenses in the lavishness of your memoriam. “Sometimes I have served people who are still cooking the final meal by the time I arrive. But then again, I would expect a prince to have ample amounts of resources available to get things done.” 

“I give nothing but the finest when it comes to them.” Malleus retorts sharply as he goes to sit in the chair on the other side of the table. Before he can properly settle, the sin eater raises a hand and shakes their head. 

“Turn the chair around if you please. You are not meant to see my face when I eat—that honour is for the deceased, and the deceased alone.” 

Malleus pauses, his hand resting on the back of the chair before he obliges and twists it around to face the wall. He then sits down and crosses his legs patiently. Despite the fact that he knows the sin eater to be unarmed, he still feels a prickle of paranoia creep up his spine. Old habits die hard when one has been hunted for so many years. 

Eventually he hears the sound of the sin eater sitting down in their respective seat, followed by something heavy hitting the table. The sin eater clears their throat, and the sound is far clearer now than before. Their mask has been removed—which means the rite has officially begun. Malleus inhales and readies himself for what he recalls the next few steps to be. 

“Tell me about them. Call them to the table where we feast.” There’s a brief pause then before a fork scrapes against porcelain plates. Malleus’ eyes flutter shut as he gives a low sigh. 

“Mira calirh.” The affectionate term flows from his tongue easily as he touches upon memories long passed. How can he summarize you in a simple conversation? You had been a person of many complexities—of devotion, of will, of love as boundless as the sea. To boil all that you were down into a mere few lines felt sacrilegious in his heart. 

“Tell me of your first.” The sin eater prompts, and so he does. 

“I met them outside of their dorm. I thought the place was abandoned, but suddenly they were there before me, sleep-dazed and curious. I remember thinking how calm they were when facing me directly—only to find out they hadn’t a single clue about who I was.” Malleus’ lips curl into a faint grin as he pictures the moment so clearly. He can see you in your youth, eyes glassy with sleep and hair slightly dishevelled. You had not registered in his mind as someone of importance quite yet. 

Oh, how such a thing would change. 

“Tell me more.” The sin eater urges. He can hear the wine glass lifting and being set back down on the table. Malleus’ hands clasp tight as he feels his fingers begin to grow numb. In his peripheral vision, he thinks he sees movement from the pedestal. He resists the impulse to look its way as he considers his next words. 

“It made me feel… alive. For a moment. They would accompany me, speak with me. It was shortly after my overblot that I began to consider them as a friend—although I suspect we never were just that. It was two summers later that I began to consider them something more.” 

Malleus pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts. He remembers that summer—it had been warmer than usual in the Valley, and you had come to visit for a week. He recalls the smell of sunscreen and the sight of you with your hat on your head as you sat in a field of eternal green. The land was lush and abundant with life, but it had been you that had drawn his gaze the strongest. 

The sin eater pushes a plate away before grabbing another. It drags across the wooden table with a bitter screech. “Is that so?” 

“Quite. They stayed with me for a week, and I wished every night that the next day would never come, only so that I could hold onto them for just a bit longer. I kissed their cheek before they departed through the mirror back to NRC—I wanted to kiss their lips, but I panicked and missed.” He can’t help but laugh at that. His palms had been sweating and his mind had been in a panic when he clumsily pressed his lips to your cheek in a kiss of farewell. “Foolish I was. Fortunately, it didn’t turn them away from me. The next time we met, they made sure my aim was true.” 

“Young love has a habit of sending our hearts aflutter, no?” The sin eater muses as more scraping sounds out. “Tell me when you loved them.”

When? Malleus’ brow furrows as he considers the question. When did he not, really? 

“Every day. Every hour. Every minute. I think once they became mine there was not a moment I did not love them, even when we had our disagreements, or the obligations of my role drew me abroad. I loved them in the day, I loved them in the night. And in the sparse moments between, I loved them even more.” Malleus feels his jaw clench slightly. “We could not be married, and so I made sure they knew my devotion.”

“You could not marry because they were not fae. I remember that being a point of contention in the papers.” 

The sin eater must be a fae themself, then, if they can recall the tabloids from that time so easily while looking as young as they appeared. Malleus bristles at their comment. 

“Yes, that was a point of great contention, and one I had to swallow despite working to change the laws. Even my grandmother agreed that such outdated beliefs had no business in and amongst our courtiers.” 

He had fought viciously against nobility for the opportunity to keep you by his side. Eventually it had ended in a standoff, with the courtiers begrudgingly agreeing to permit you to live in Black Scale, so long as you never officially became his consort. Your body hasn’t even been cold for a day, and he’s already heard rumours from Scops that the Senate is hunting for a suitable replacement. 

The knowledge tastes like bitter fruit on his tongue.

He thinks he sees the flutter of white fabric moving at the pedestal again. His brow furrows as he rationalizes it away as a trick of the odd lighting in the hall. Still, the cold breeze that follows makes him shift in his seat uncomfortably.

“Tell me how you loved them.” The sin eater diverts his thoughts and the conversation once more as something heavy scrapes across the table. It may be the plate of quail he saw—or the pig's head. “What did you do to always let them know?” 

“Everything. Anything they wanted I would give to them. If they had asked me to move the mountains we rest on, I would do so. If they asked me to pluck the sun from the sky and fasten it into a brooch for them, I would make sure it was held by the finest of metals. If they wished for the rains to fall and the earth to turn green, then I would drag the clouds from across the world to where they stood.” Malleus shivers again as he feels an ache in his chest. It’s been there for days now. “Magic bends to my whims, but I bent to theirs.” 

“But you couldn’t give them time.” There’s a licking sound and a low hum of satisfaction from the sin eater. “Time will eat everyone in the end—much like how I feast on their memories now. You could give them every precious gem and flower in the world, but you could not give them a second more than what they were meant to have.” 

“If I could have, then I would.” He snarls back, his head turning slightly to glare at the blurred image of the sin eater. “I would have stolen the seconds from anything and everything and given it to them instead. The gods know they would have benefited from it. They had plans, ideas, to improve this nation and now? Now they’re already beginning to decay.” 

“As things do.” The sin eater tosses a bone onto a plate as Malleus looks back to the wall. He feels something cold brush against him again, and then the scraping of a chair to his right. His shoulders tense at the sound and he wonders if the sin eater has changed places. 

Until they speak. 

“How very kind of you to finally join us.” 

The comment is simple and one that draws confusion in Malleus until it finally clicks in place and his entire body plunges into freezing water. The world spins to a stop as he hears a whispering voice by his ear, its words indiscernible. Malleus’ eyes widen and dilate as any words he had to say stutter to a stop from his lips, drawn shut by a cold touch brushing up his arm—much like how his touch had brushed along yours moments ago. 

“One last bite, then.” The sin eater interjects once more as they push another plate away. “Tell me how you will keep them alive. The body may be rotting, but the soul does still linger. Within this hall, within this palace, within the memories stored in your mind. How will you honour that?” 

The words become clearer now. Your voice is soft as your breath brushes against the skin behind his ear, making him shiver as a small, painful sound escapes him. The scent of you lingers just beneath that of the roses your body was bathed in before being wrapped for your cremation. He can feel the brush of the shroud against him as phantom fingers touch his back. 

He wants to turn to see you as he once knew—but something tells him that doing so will merely send you away faster. 

“Their legacy.” He offers slowly, eyes fluttering shut again as he loses himself in your touch. “Their memory carries on through years upon generations of work. They brought life back to Briar Valley’s beliefs. They reshaped this old, rotting home—reshaped me—into something better. I may have portraits of them, and statues, and items that they loved dear stored in my rooms—but I think the only thing they would wish for me to do is continue the work they had started.” 

A sensation floods him then like that brought on by a lover’s kiss. It curls around his wounded heart and floods itself through his veins, warming his body in a way that it hasn’t been able to for days. Another pained sound leaves him, but it is not drawn out because of any agony. 

Then, as quickly as it arrived, the sensations are all gone. Your scent disappears, your touch disappears, and Malleus Draconia is left once more to sit in a stiff wooden chair in a large, desolate hall, with a body and a sin eater as his company. He wants to grasp for you and hold you in place like he did so dearly with your body—but the voice screams at him again that this is not the way it plays out. 

The sin eater sets the cutlery down before drawing their mask over their face. They push the chair back to stand, and only when they’re on their feet again does Malleus turn to them. He can feel wetness on his cheeks as he stares at their slender, frail form. He had managed to keep himself from crying so far—but now it’s become a battle he can no longer wage.

“What a delectable meal.” The sin eater sighs as they brush down their suit before stepping away from the table. They pause as they face the prince before bending at the waist in a low bow. The black pits that represent their eyes do not stray from his face as they do so. “They rest—as you should, too. I know you have at least another day of the wake to endure, so try to recover as much energy as you can. They would not want you to suffer on their behalf.”

Malleus doesn’t reply as his gaze drifts to your shrouded form on the pedestal. His love, his partner, his calirh. When the sin eater is already halfway to the door, he clears his throat, causing them to pause and look his way. Malleus stares at their masked face with an expression of neutrality once more. 

“... thank you.” He offers softly. The sin eater tilts their head, bows, and steps out of the silent hall.

#malleus draconia #malleus x reader #twst malleus #twst #twst fanfiction #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #OKAY got those out of the way #anyway sin eaters... sexy concept #sad they went out of style #probably bc it costs too much to buy food /j #kinda went off the rails w this im so sorry if it isnt what u envisioned b ;; #but YEAH nice. #nice.

[paradiseprincesss]

any cillian murphy character with praise? thank you 💗💗

million dollar man - robert fischer x reader

hi anon! i hope i did your request justice - thank you for being my first request! i listened to million dollar man by lana del rey on repeat while writing this, hope you enjoy xoxo.

summary: robert takes you on vacation for your anniversary, and you give him a little late night fashion show in your beach home.

a/n: if you haven't already noticed all my fics are based off songs LMAO im gonna start linking the songs each fic is based off of kk thats all

warnings: 18+ minors dni!! smut, swearing, kissing, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, sexual content ahead lol

the west coast was breathtaking, the palm trees, warm weather, the beaches - all of it was beautiful.

robert had taken you on vacation to the west coast to celebrate your one-year anniversary together. he paid for it all, of course, and you were ever so grateful for it.

currently, the two of you were speeding down the coast at sunset in the cream coloured luxury convertible he had stored at one of the beach homes he owned down here. the wind was blowing through your hair, his hand was on your thigh, and to tie it all together - the sun was gleaming down on you as it set over the shore.

robert glanced at you while attempting to focus on driving down the coast, but he found himself getting distracted - your beauty was breathtaking, and tonight, you were the only thing he could find himself focusing on.

dating a man worth more than just millions was new to you - but you had adjusted to it just fine over the last year. robert spoiled you, this shouldn't come as a surprise, though.

constantly showering you in gifts; he would buy you designer bags, shoes, clothes, cars, and jewelry - anything you wanted, you could have. at least, that's what he always said.

he gave your thigh a little squeeze as he raced down the road, eventually pulling up the beach house- no, mansion - that he had owned down on the west coast. the home itself was breathtaking, an oceanfront property that screamed luxury. as the car came to a stop on the driveway, robert took your hand and gave it a small kiss. he got out of the car, swiftly coming to the passenger side and opening the door for you.

"come on, honey, i have something i want to show you." he said, helping you out of the car. a curious expression painted your face as he took your hand in his, leading you into the home.

as he opened the door for you - you gasped.

in the large foyer of the home, there were bouquets on bouquets of red roses everywhere - your favourite. amongst the beautiful floral arrangements, there were multiple boxes and bags all with gift wrapping or ribbons on them, from designer stores - goyard, chanel, louis vuitton - you name it.

"robert..." you say softly, looking over at him with your hand still in his, and he smiles at you proudly.

"i love you. happy anniversary." he says, wrapping his arms around you, and kissing you softly.

"i love you too." was all you managed to mumble against his lips - he spoiled you on a daily basis but this - this was something else; you'd never had a partner willingly give you this much for an anniversary before - but you also never dated a millionaire before. as you pulled away from the kiss, you look up at him with a doting expression, "how can i ever thank you for this, robbie? you're so good to me..."

he looks at you with love - and smirks, his voice dropping low.

"i still have one more thing for you upstairs, gorgeous." he whispers, hands snaking down to your ass - giving it a little squeeze.

you bite your lip and nod, as he gestures you to go up the stairs, following you. as you reach the master bedroom - you see even more roses littered all over, and a medium sized white box on the middle of the bed, adorned with a matching white bow, and little white card on the top.

you reached over to pick up the little memo, and it read:

happy anniversary, my angel. i adore you.

love, robert.

glancing down at the box - you read the label, it was from your favourite lingerie store, la perla.

carefully unwrapping the bow and opening the box, you peeked inside to see a gorgeous white italian lingerie set. you let out a shallow breath, and turned around to see him smirking slightly.

"i want to see my little angel dress the part," he says lowly, "why don't you go put that on and give me a little fashion show, hm? how's that sound, angel?"

you look up at him innocently, and bite your lip as you got lost in his icy gaze for a moment, "anything for you."

grabbing the contents in the box, you rush to the bathroom to go try it on for robert. closing the door behind you, you shed your dress and put on the lingerie - complete with a garter belt and straps. looking at yourself up and down in the mirror, you couldn't even lie - you felt so sexy.

the white set he got you was stunning, the white lace sat perfectly on your skin - and the little bow details on the set was the cherry on top. as you were about to step out from the bathroom, you slipped on the white heels that were in the box.

of course he wanted you to wear heels with it - he's just that extra. but hey, he paid god knows what for them, so...

as you opened the door, you found robert sitting on the edge of the bed, his tie visibly loosened now. as he heard the door to the bathroom open, he quickly looked over at you.

"my god," he breathed, "come here, pretty."

following his instructions you walked over to him, his gaze not once leaving your body; drinking your beauty in.

"c'mon, give me a little spin, honey." he coos, throwing pet names left and right at you. doing as you're told, you indeed give him a little spin, and he suddenly gets up, standing behind you.

"bend over the edge of the bed for me, honey." he softly tells you, and again - you do as your told, bending over the bed for him, your white lace panties leaving just about nothing to the imagination.

"god, your body is fucking lethal." he groans, pressing his hard bulge on your clothed cunt, making you moan in bliss at the feeling. "fuck, your moans are just as pretty as you are," he chokes, "my pretty girl."

"robbie..." you moan, and he quickly flips you around onto your back, pushing you onto the bed, making you slightly startled - but you giggle.

"love making you happy," he says, leaving sloppy kisses all over your neck, trailing down to your breasts, "i'd do anything for you, honey - anything. give you the world if i could, fuck."

his hands ghost over the lace and little bow adorning the bra, and the feeling makes you shiver. you were certain that you were already soaking through your panties, and you let out a whimper at the feeling.

he took his time with you - admiring you as if you were an art piece. eventually, he unclasped your bra, and he immediately took your nipple into his mouth. your hand went straight for his hair, and you started moaning breathlessly.

"fuck, robbie, baby." you say, out of breath, "please."

he didn't offer you a reply, instead, he just went straight to the other nipple, and teasingly nipped at it, all whilst snaking a hand down to your clothed cunt - fingers ghosting over your clit. the feeling made you moan and you needed him inside of you - now.

after giving a few more kisses to your breasts, he got on his stomach to lay between your legs, teasingly pulling your panties down and giving you absolutely no time to react before licking a stripe up your cunt.

"fuck." you moaned at the feeling, and you swore you felt him smile against you.

he ate you out as if he hadn't eaten for days - like a starved man. tongue licking every inch of your pussy, sucking your sensitive clit, as his name was falling from your lips like a mantra.

"god, you taste so good." he mumbled against your soaking cunt, and you felt your cheeks heat up at the praise, but he kept going, "pretty face, pretty tits, pretty pussy. you're the fantasy."

that got you moaning, begging - and you felt yourself get close.

"i-i'm, oh- i'm s-so close." you moaned, and he continued to dip his tongue into your hole all while sucking your clit - going back and forth between the two.

you felt that familiar sensation in your stomach, and you felt yourself tip over the edge - incoherently begging, whining and moaning his name over and over.

"you look so fucking pretty when you cum." he softly says, after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand - the sight making you dizzy. your slick on his now even pinker lips and chin, pupils blown out.

scrambling out of desperation, you helped him out of his white button down as he worked on undoing his belt.

"good girl, fuck-" he says as you help him out of his clothing, "you're so well behaved, aren't you pretty girl?"

you smile up at him, still dazed from the way he made you cum just a minute ago, and he pushes you back down on the bed as he stroked his now free cock.

he teased your entrance with the tip of his cock, making you whine. "be good, baby." he warns - but it was gentle, just teasing.

you pout at him but that pout is wiped right off your face as you feel him sink into you, stretching your cunt out completely. you let out an almost pornographic moan, and your hands fly to his shoulders for some sort of support - something to grab onto.

"jesus- fuck, how do you get tighter every time i fuck you?" he groans, fucking into your cunt at a fast pace, making you whimper and moan.

"right there, oh my goddddd." you say, breathlessly, the feeling of cock stretching you out causing you to see stars.

"right there?" he coos, brushing a strand of your tousled hair out of your face, "right there, pretty?"

you just nod frantically, hands gripping his biceps and shoulders - unable to reply from the levels of pleasure he was bringing you in that moment, cock pounding into your tight cunt at a brutal pace.

he felt you tighten around his cock and let out a noise that was fucking filthy - his moans were something you swore you could listen to on repeat, all day, all the time.

"good girl, good fucking girl." he praised through a moan, and you just moaned his name over and over.

"robbie- ah, feels so good!" you whimper, feeling the knot in your stomach about to pop.

"you gonna cum pretty girl? be good for, shit-" he moans, "be good for me and cum." he says in a saccharine voice, his gaze never leaving you, causing you to blush - even though he almost always kept eye contact with you while he fucked you.

his words caused you to scream his name, and you made a mess all over his cock, cumming so hard you felt tears stream down your face.

"look at you-" he groans, feeling himself close to release, cock still pounding into your cunt at a ruthless speed, "so fucking beautiful when you cry. shit, baby, gonna fill you up. stuff you with my cum.”

you found yourself crying under him, tears of love; tears from overstimulation.

"p-please," you weakly say, voice a little raspy, "cum i-in me."

"fuck, i will, good girl..." he groans, shooting his load into your cunt with a moan.

he pulls you into a rough kiss, which you moan into as you felt his warm seed being stuffed into your cunt.

he pulls away after a moment, panting and out of breath - a small smile on his face. after a few beats of silence, he puts his hand on your cheek, cupping your face gently - lovingly.

"happy anniversary, pretty girl."

#cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader #cillian fanfic #cillian fic #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fanfic #robert fischer #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer x y/n #robert fischer imagine #robert fischer fic #robert fischer x oc #cillian #jonathan crane x f!reader #jonathan crane x y/n #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x you

[seresinhangmanjake]

Stolen Angel - Part 6

Demon!Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. Eventual smut and happy stuff. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too. In this part specifically: smutty-ish stuff (18+), cursing, angst

Words: 2305

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

You’re drunk, you think. Head is too foggy to be explained by anything else. Your brain struggles to pin down a well-developed thought. Good. You’re not here for well-developed thoughts. You don’t want a well-developed thought. What you want is to feel. And right now, you feel blissfully intoxicated. 

When you spun around and kissed him, he wasn’t expecting it. Despite it being his bright idea, it took him a few seconds to catch up. Your arms were already wrapped around his neck, your lips and teeth trying to pry some playfulness out of him with little nibbles by the time it registered in his head that you had caved for him. Then he snapped fully alert, like he’d been locked in a cage and you turned the key to set him free. 

He’d instantly removed your arms from his neck and placed your hands at his waist, then he cupped your cheeks in rough palms and gave you what you wanted; what you know he’s been wanting to give you for weeks.

And you continue to let him give it to you. You give him complete control and allow him to take advantage because somehow he knows what you like. He did then, and he does now. 

You like a paced rhythm of lips; needy, eager, but lacking the fumbling of an inexperienced or equally mind-numb partner. 

You like hands that tangle in your hair before they carve a path down to your hips. 

You like fingers skimming your midriff and the tingles that come from soft touching morphing into possessive grabbing. 

You like fingerprints bruised into your skin from being held still as a jeans-constrained cock grinds against your core.

You like the melody of his moans and how he doesn’t try to hide them from you. Like he needs you to know exactly how you affect him so you can understand the power you possess. 

You like the taste of his tongue, and the way he smells. He smells like the forest in the moonlight, and the rays of the sun in springtime, but also like the sea when its waves are enraged by wild winds. He smells like the earth. He smells human. He tastes human. He sounds human. 

His human fingers go to your neck, applying light pressure until you whimper against his lips. He grins into the kiss. Different fingers on a different hand fiddle with the button of your jeans, popping it open and dragging down the zipper. 

You’re already warm, but it’s hotter when his hand slips behind the thin band of your underwear. That heat becomes almost unbearable as fingers near your clit and brush over the bundle of nerves. And when two digits finally nestle themselves within your folds, you burst into a ball of flame.

A ball of flame that forces your eyes to shoot open and the loose screws in your brain to retighten before they have a chance to fall out completely. Your eyes snap shut again because it feels so fucking good when his middle finger teases your entrance. Your walls are hungry for something to clamp down around. No, not something—him. You’re hungry for him, and your body is not going to forgive you for the betrayal, but this is…wrong. All wrong. You have to stop. What you’re doing changes nothing. He is not who you want him to be. You are not who you were. And this place is not what you once knew, no matter the memories you attempt to revive from its history. 

Tears begin to gather and squeeze through your sealed eyelids. He doesn’t notice them as his lips break from yours to press a kiss to your cheek and then your jaw before they latch onto your neck. With your gasp, your hands fist the fabric of his t-shirt. A fingertip is easing inside of you and your body lurches toward him. Deeper. More. You want it. So bad.

Wait, no! Your brow furrows. 

No, you don’t want it! 

Think of what he has done to you. Think of what he has stolen. Think of how he shows no shame.

“No!” you snap as you jerk your head from his and shove him off of you. Lips, fingers, taste, scent—gone, dousing you in a piercing chill. 

Jade-toned eyes are full of fear and confusion as he takes a step near you. “Angel–”

“No!” you repeat, your finger pointed at him. You shake your head, trying to breathe as you back out of the kitchen and into the living room. 

“What did I do?”

“No!” you say once more. Harsher, louder, your tears falling harder. “You ruin things!”

His breath is heavy. Chest heaving. “What?”

“You killed my plant!” you sob, “And the cat is gone!”

“You didn't have a cat,” he says.

“You take!” you tell him. “That’s all you do—you take! I did everything you wanted so I could come home and feel like me for just one goddamn second, but it’s not home anymore because you took it from me! You ruined it! You tainted it!” you shout. “You tainted me!”

The tears are in such abundance they merge together on their descent to your jaw. Your fingers tremble as you lower to the ground, pull your knees to your chest, and wrap your arms around them. 

Jake carefully closes the distance you’d been keeping and crouches in front of you. With his hands on your cheeks, he tilts your face up to his. Eyes flick back and forth between yours. “You are not tainted,” he says. 

Smacking his hands away, you rest your chin on your knees. “There’s nothing left,” you mutter. “I have nothing.”

“You have me,” he pleads. 

“I don’t want you!

Jake freezes in the aftermath of your scream. Then he glances down like he’s looking for the knife you just plunged into his heart. It’s not there, of course. If anyone is guilty of harming anything in this apartment, it’s him. 

He swallows and leans back into a seated position across from you. His hand runs through his hair and down his face, and then he waits. He sits there quietly, watches you as you refuse to look at him, and waits. 

He waits for minutes? Hours? You don’t know; you can’t remember how much time you had left before you kissed him. He waits until he softly says, “Time’s up, Angel.”

He waits some more as if he expects you to respond. When you don’t, he stands. 

“We have to go,” he says. 

“Then go,” you mumble.

Jake sighs and holds his hand out to you. “Don’t do this.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you say, continuing to stare ahead at the wall. “I didn’t do anything. I never did anything.”

“Angel, you promised you’d follow the rules.”

Black streaks float by your head, carried on the wind coming through the open window. In your peripheral vision, you see the feathers find home on Jake’s back until he’s once again the monster who stole you in all of his grandness.

“You need to call your wings,” he tells you. “Do what I taught you earlier, just imagine the opposite.”

You shake your head. 

Jake blows a breath out through his nose. “Angel, please do what I’m telling you. You know I can’t leave you here.”

“You wouldn’t even if you could.”

Jake bends at the waist. He puts his index finger under your chin and lifts so your eyes are stuck on his. “You’re right, I wouldn’t. So let's not play this game. Call your wings.”

“No,” you return through clenched teeth.  

Those red tendrils slither into his irises, but you’re not deterred this time. He doesn’t scare you anymore. Not even when he grabs your wrist, pulls you to your feet, and throws you over his shoulder like you’re a sack of grain. His feathers brush across your face as your head lands between the open spaces in his t-shirt that accommodate his wings. 

Your fist slams into one of the appendages and he grunts, but it doesn’t stop him from heading straight for your bedroom. When he kicks the door open, you pinch your eyelids tight. You don’t want to see the bedsheets with your and his dried sweat or the bra that when removed from your body sprouted gooseflesh up and down your arms. You don’t want to be reminded of how he drank in your breasts with his eyes and rubbed his thumbs over your nipples and sucked one into his mouth. 

Jake leans down and lifts the window that overlooks the street. You curse its size, big enough for two bodies to slip through. 

“Put me down,” you shriek, hitting his other wing this time. 

You can feel when he ducks under the sill, you can hear the rustle of feathers when wings stretch wide, then with one strong flap, you’re back in the wind tunnel that stole your breath. 

—

The moment he touches down, you begin to wiggle in his arms, freeing yourself only to fall directly on your ass in the grass and dirt.

“Get up,” Jake commands. You grumble and rise to your feet, but solely for the sake of removing yourself from his presence. You’ve had enough. Enough of him and of this night. As you head toward The Tower, he says, “Bring your wings back.”

He gives you a few seconds, but when you don’t stop on your path, a whooshing sound arises from behind you before he suddenly drops out of the sky, landing right in front of you and making you jump. 

“Listen to me,” he growls. 

Moving in close, you put your face just a few inches from his. “No.”

That fear returns in his eyes—a briefer flash than you saw earlier. It’s squashed under his innate desire to demand things from you. “You don’t tell me no. Not with this,” he says. “If you don’t bring them back, your feathers will abandon you where you left them.”

“Perfect,” you say, stepping around him. 

Twenty feet from the door. Nineteen. Eighteen. You’re almost there.

“And you’ll have to grow new ones,” he calls after you. 

You pause in your tracks, heartbeat catching in your chest.

“Being without wings can only be temporary. You abandon the old ones, new ones will take their place. No one can stop it.” With his hands on your upper arms, he spins you around. “Do you want to go through that again?”

Immobile; skin shredding; blood running down your spine and soaking the bed; lava coursing through your veins, limbs, organs. Last time you bit your tongue so hard you were surprised your teeth didn’t pierce a hole.

His palms move, grazing up and over your shoulders, dipping into the curves of your neck to frame your face. Thumbs stroke your cheeks. His forehead rests against yours. 

“Don’t make me watch you suffer twice, Angel,” he whispers, begs. “Please.”

You could laugh. He wouldn’t have had to watch you suffer at all if he had left you where you belonged. But even so, you relent, closing your eyes to imagine your wings reforming with the addition of each individual feather until you sense a strange internal response to your call. You don’t do it for him. You do it for you, refusing to relive that trauma. You wonder if Jake understands the difference.

“Did you do it?” he asks, lifting his head. You nod, then he nods, exhaling shakily. “It’ll take longer since we left the feathers there, so make sure to keep that image somewhere in your mind to guide them to you. You might as well rest in the meantime. When your wings are back you can sleep.”

Not waiting to see if he is finished telling you what to do, you step out of his hold, turn on your heel, and walk to the door. Your hand is pressed against the large panel, ready to push it open so you can be free of him when you hear his voice…again.

“Angel.”

You groan, digging your fingernails into the wood before twisting around. You’re going to get fucking whiplash. What, you think as you glare at him. What else could there possibly be?

Jake swallows, then the tip of his tongue darts out to wet his lips. 

“I don't regret bringing you here,” he starts. “Not for a second. And I never will. You have no idea how long I wished to have you with me.

“And regardless of what you believe, I’m not ignorant of the sacrifices. I once gave up the life I had as well,” he says, and your brows knit. “However, this can be home, if you accept it. I want to give you everything, but you have to let me.”

You despise the itty bitty part of you that looks at his offer the way a child looks at a forbidden lollipop, their eyes blown wide, licking their lips before they even have their grubby paws on the damn stick. You cannot listen to that part. To listen would be to lose more of you, and how much more do you have available to lose? You’ve never dissected yourself to figure out how many fragments there are. But something was sucked out of your soul tonight. It left a void that he’s foolish to think he can fill. 

“I don’t have to let you do anything to me, Jake,” you tell him.

Jake shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Of course it is.”

Leaving him behind, you turn and enter The Tower—a place you would’ve bet your life you’d never be happy to see—and you don’t look back. Not even when a softly muttered “fuck” just barely reaches your ear before the door completely separates you and Jake from one another.

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #demon!jake seresin #tgm #tgm fic

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The Pirate (Dad Squad)

EVERYBODY COME GET YOUR LINEBECK SOUP!!

Abel shook the strange feeling off of himself as they stepped through the gate created by the item. If it had led them here, that likely meant its twin had opened a portal to this land as well.

Blinking a few times to reorient after the brief kaleidoscope of light, Abel took in the sight of a bright sun, the smell of sea salt, and the sound of crashing waves. They were obviously by the ocean, though he had no idea where in particular, or what sea. He only knew of the Lanayru Sea, but tales spoke of other bodies of water that rivaled it.

Rusl walked ahead first, adapting quickly, eyes alert but face placid. Abel watched the Fierce Deity walk after him, unreadable as usual.

Something clearly caught their attention as they stood at the edge of the dock, staring. Abel peeked around them, wondering what it was, when he caught sight of the scene.

A ship was sinking. But it was moving towards them. Its deck had just been submerged, and its mast was all that was remaining. A man stood atop it, glaring ahead fiercely as if willing the boat to make it to the dock in time, but his posture was proud as if this had been planned all along.

What in the world...?

The mast managed to reach the dock in the nick of time, allowing the man to step off. He blew out a sigh, looking like his knees were about to buckle, when he caught sight of the group of men. He sized them up quickly, eyes widening a little at the sight of the deity, and then waved sharply. "How's it going? I'm just passing through. Gotta go now. Important things to do."

"Wait," Rusl interrupted, stepping into his way. "Can you tell us where we are?"

The man blinked, hackles less raised, confusion evident. "Where you--this is Mercay Island. How do you not know that? What, you get clocked by those red spandex wearing freakshows too?"

Abel immediately stiffened. "The Yiga were here?!"

"The who?" the man bounced back, looking even more confused as the wind whipped through his dark brown hair.

"It's a group of demon worshippers," Rusl explained. "They've taken our sons. We're tracking them. Where did you see them?"

The man's face flushed, eyebrows coming together in outrage. "They took someone of mine as well! And he's my best crewmate! Well, he's my only crewmate, but that isn't the point! I came here in search of a new ship to track them down since they--they sunk--"

Here the man sniffled, glancing away in seeming anguish at the lost of his boat.

"I'm sorry about your ship," Rusl said appeasingly. "But perhaps we can help each other."

The man hummed, crossing his arms and squinting at them as if he were debating the matter.

Abel started to grow impatient. "Do you want to find your crewmate or not?"

"Don't get short with me!" the man snapped. "I am Linebeck, captain of the seas, and I know this place better than anyone, especially you guys. I'm your only chance to find those freaks, so you're going to take orders from me now!"

The Fierce Deity picked the greasy looking man by the back of his coat, bringing him to eye level. The man, in turn, squealed, flailing his arms and legs in a desperate maneuver to get out of the hold, yelling, "LET ME GO, YOU BEACHED WHALE!"

Abel glanced at the deity, tempted to tell him to toss the man into the sea, but if he truly had seen the Yiga, then they unfortunately needed his help. Rusl just sighed, seeming to grow a little tired of being the sole negotiator of the group.

"How do you propose we find the Yiga if your ship has been damaged?" Fierce asked, silencing the man's squeals. "If I retrieve it, will you be able to repair it expediently?"

"Retrieve--it's sinking into the sea, you small brained land mass!"

Abel did have to almost laugh at that one. Rusl looked unimpressed by the man's impolite demeanor, but at least his insults were entertaining. Nevertheless, they needed to move.

Fierce seemed to sense Abel's impatience and Rusl's disapproval, casually tossing the sailor aside as he walked up to the mast. The man spluttered, shakily trying to get to his feet before promptly falling back on to his backside as he watched the deity singlehandedly start to pull the ship out of the water with a firm grasp at its mast. Abel heard the wood start to give, though, not tolerating the force it took to fight the water crushing the rest of the ship, and he put a hand on Fierce's shoulder. "Let it go. We'll have to find another way."

Rusl turned to Linebeck. "We'll work with you, friend, but not for you. Understood?"

Linebeck gulped, still trying to process what he just saw, and then he huffed, rising. "F-fine. Whatever. But I'm still in charge."

Abel felt his eyebrows pinch together. "That's not--"

"Let's go!" Linebeck announced, twirling around and marching towards the island. "I know just the ship we can acquire."

The three trudged behind him somewhat reluctantly. Abel bristled at being given orders from someone like this, but he kept his mouth shut for now. Instead, it was the sea captain who spoke first.

"So... what are all your names?" he asked as he continued to stride ahead.

The Ordonian answered first. "I'm Rusl. This is Abel, and Fierce."

"Fierce?" Linebeck repeated, glancing back at him. "Weird name."

"It is my title," Fierce clarified.

"Title? Who calls you Fierce? Fierce what, Fierce Breaker of Personal Boundaries?"

This man talked entirely too much.

"What's the plan?" Abel asked before the conversation could continue.

"That ship," Linebeck said, pointing towards a relatively large ship sitting in the harbor. "We can use that to track those scum."

"If you already had another ship, why were you perturbed at the loss of your other one?" Fierce questioned.

"It's not his," Abel surmised quickly.

Rusl smiled, rolling his shoulders. "All right, then. Who owns it?"

Abel glanced over at the Ordonian, a little baffled. He still hadn't entirely wrapped his head around what kind of work this man did - he was the most polite and kind of the group, easy with people, yet he condoned stealing in a heartbeat.

Not that Abel wouldn't steal if he had to, but... he had to. Rusl was... he didn't know. This just certainly was not the first time the man had done it, that was for sure.

And clearly, this sailor was more akin to a pirate.

Sighing heavily, Abel listened as Linebeck prattled on about some women "who won't be a problem," and the three men started moving steadily towards the boat.

Surprisingly, it only seemed to have two women aboard - Linebeck claimed that the rest of the crew was at the market. That at least made things simpler.

The four moved quickly. Rusl crouched low, leading the way and pulling out a dagger he hid in his belt. Despite being quite the swordsman, Abel had observed that Rusl often resorted to a dagger in close combat, and the more he saw it, the more he questioned the blacksmith's occupation. Fierce, on the other hand, left his hands open, likely not wanting to use his powerful blade on a couple women guarding a ship. Linebeck was also unarmed, curiously.

Sighing, Abel unsheathed his sword. He caught up to Rusl, and the two rushed up the gangway, picking a target and quickly overpowering them. Rusl never unsheathed his dagger, only using its small hilt to smack the woman across the temple, knocing her unconscious and covering her mouth as she fell. Her companion caught sight of him before Abel could get to her, yelling, but Abel easily tossed her overboard while Rusl pushed the other down the ramp.

Fierce walked aboard next, glancing around, while Linebeck sauntered aboard. The pirate's face was tight, as if he hadn't quite expected the ferocity the men had displayed, but he tried to cover it with a quick little, "Well done. Now we can depart."

"Not yet," Fierce said quietly, his voice in that low tone he used when stalking prey. Abel immediately went alert, whirling to find what he was looking at, when--

"Intruders!!"

Turning sharply, Abel saw a woman pointing from a door leading below deck. Within an instant, at least ten other women appeared, all armed and snarling.

"You said they were in the market!" Abel yelled as he readied for a fight.

Linebeck didn't reply, seemingly vanishing into thin air, and Abel only caught sight of his blue tailcoats slipping under a barrel.

"Did--did he just--"

"Not now!" Rusl snapped as their enemies charged on them.

Abel focused quickly, dodging a strike from a nearby fighter before parrying her blade and kicking her away to create some distance. Thankfully, he still had at least one functional shield left, and he quickly used it to block a jab from another enemy. Before he could retaliate, the two women were swept away by a... screaming woman?

Abel glanced to his right to see Fierce holding one of the fighters by her wrist and using her as a weapon to ram into the others. At his questioning glance, the deity explained, "The little hero usually does not approve of killing mortals. If these women prove problematic, I'll eliminate them, but for now--"

"Behind you!" Abel interrupted, pointing as another fighter tried to leap off the rail of the deck and stab Fierce in the head. The deity swatted her like a fly, and she rammed into the opposite end of the ship.

"Jolene!" some of the others shouted. Abel immediately perked up at the reaction - clearly this woman was important, maybe even the leader.

"Toss her off!" Abel ordered the deity, moving to intercept a few other enemies. He glanced to his left to check on Rusl and found the Ordonian starting to accumulate a pile of enemies who were on the ground writhing or motionless.

The former knight felt a swell of pride for his friend before looking back to see Fierce easily throwing the leader off the ship. As predicted, the others followed to check on her, leaving the men in peace temporarily. Abel put his sword and shield away to pull out his bow and arrows while Rusl pulled the gangway up to prevent them from returning. Moving to the edge of the ship, Abel nocked the arrow, aiming for a second before letting it fly. It sank into the woman's shoulder, making her scream in pain.

He nocked another arrow.

"Abel," Rusl interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder. "The fight is over."

Abel continued to stare at his target. Killing her would put the rest of her crew into chaos. It would prevent them from following them.

Rusl's hand tightened a little, reassuring but firm. "Abel."

Sighing, Abel slowly lowered the bow and arrow. His focus was interrupted as he heard splashing, glancing over to see Fierce throwing the bodies overboard.

There was a scrape of wood on wood, catching the men's attention, and they all drew their weapons to see--

Linebeck, peeking out from under the barrel. "Oh, are they all gone?"

I'm going to kill him. Abel marched forward, eyes alight with rage, when he was held back by Fierce, who pinched the back of his tunic to prevent him from moving ahead. He turned to snap at the deity, but his words were quickly overrun by the pirate, who dusted himself off and continued, "Well done, then! We're ready to set sail! I'll man the helm."

As he moved forward on the deck, he scurried all of a sudden, filled with seemingly feral energy, and stood on his tiptoes at the railing, shouting, "THAT'S FOR ALMOST BLOWING UP MY SHIP TWO WEEKS AGO, JOLENE!"

Before anyone could comment, he rushed to set sail as if his life depended on it, guiding the ship out to sea.

Abel blew out a frustrated breath, and he felt Fierce release him. He kicked the barrel under which the pirate had been hiding, taking little satisfaction from it but having to get his anger out somehow.

Rusl took a moment to calm himself as well, though far less noticeably, before he walked over to the wheel. "So where are we going?"

"Bannan Island," Linebeck answered, eyes on the horizon. "That was the direction they went, towards the north sea. They also claimed to be going to a Banana Island, so I think they heard the place's name wrong."

Banana Island. Goddess. Sometimes Abel was almost embarrassed that these were his enemies. Though it simply proved that sheer numbers could cause enough of a threat, despite how idiotic they were.

There was silence for a while as Marcay Island grew steadily smaller. The adrenaline of the fight wore off, and Abel slowly slid to the ground, feeling his stomach grow steadily more upset at the tossing of the waves.

"Who are these people, anyway?" Linebeck eventually asked, glancing at Rusl. "What do they want?"

"They essentially want to see the world burn," Rusl answered, crossing his arms. "Somehow that involves taking our sons hostage."

Linebeck pursed his lips, debating some issue, and sighed. "Well, that's rotten luck. Good thing you have me."

"Oh yes," Abel huffed. "Where would we be without you?"

Linebeck didn't seem to catch his quip, or if he did, his rebuttal was interrupted by Fierce asking, "Why did they take your crewmate?"

Linebeck's face soured, and he glared ahead of him at nothing in particular. "Whatever the reason, Link can probably get himself of out of it. But... I need a crew. So I'm finding the kid."

Link?!

No. Surely not. There was no way this disgrace of a man had a Hero in his crew, and--

Oh goddess he did, didn't he? That would be why the Yiga targeted him.

"Our boys are named Link too," Rusl said, eyes widening a little as he came to the same conclusion. "Heroes of Hyrule, spread across time. I think they must be targeting them because they know they'd stop them otherwise."

"Heroes? Hyrule?" Linebeck repeated, staring at him. "My kid isn't a--I mean, he's--look, he's my crew, and... he's a good kid, but..."

The pirate bit his lip, staring at the wheel a moment, still and silent. Worry etched every feature before he shook his head.

"The Yiga will perish," Fierce assured him. "We'll find your child."

Linebeck flushed. "H-he's not my child!!"

"Right," Rusl chuckled, patting the man on the back.

Abel sighed, ignoring the pirate temporarily and looking at at sea. The horizon bounced up and down along with the ship, giving him a headache, and he closed his eyes. He wondered if they'd actually have any luck this time - all they'd found were scraps of information and cold leads. This attack seemed fairly fresh, so hopefully they could make it in time.

Ugh. Closing his eyes made the seasickness worse.

Thunder rumbled, catching Abel's attention, and he hastily opened his eyes to see dark clouds ahead. "Uh..."

"Are we going to sail through the storm?" Fierce questioned, staring at the abysmal weather.

"No sailor goes through a storm on purpose," Linebeck immediately said. "That's just suicide. Lucky for you, I'm an excellent sailor. We'll skirt around it - I don't want to lose too much time."

At least Abel could agree with the man on that. But still... even he, someone who did not navigate the ocean, knew not to get near a storm out in the open sea. "Are we sure about this? We should probably try to avoid it altogether."

"And give those sea vipers time to get away?" Linebeck growled, glaring at the clouds. "Ha! I, Linebeck, master of the seas, can handle this just fine! I'm getting my crew back, blast it!"

Well... he couldn't fault him for his determination, at least. But still... Abel sighed, hugging the wooden support rung under the railing, lightly bouncing his forehead against it. "We're going to die."

Abel's relatively mild quip felt more and more like a promise the closer they got. The winds picked up, the sea turning a sickly green, and Abel nearly threw up with how much they were being tossed around. Rusl nearly flew across the ship as one wave almost overturned them, and Fierce had to grab him by his shirt to save him. The three men clung to the rail desperately, occasionally getting beaten by walls of water spilling overtop them.

Abel looked to the helm worriedly, feeling completely out of control and petrified, only to see Linebeck standing firmly, holding the wheel with a steel grip. He glared defiantly at the sea, almost daring it to try its worst, confident and firm in his stance.

At the sight, the former knight had to admit he felt almost a little reassured.

Another wave crashed into them, and Abel watched Linebeck release the wheel a moment, letting it turn sharply, guiding the ship to ride with the wave. Then he grasped it, guiding the mast with gritted teeth as he fought against the whipping winds. Fierce pulled Abel close, shielding both him and Rusl with an iron grip to the railing so the waves wouldn't knock them off.

Honestly, with the way they were getting tossed, Abel would be surprised if they didn't capsize. He clung desperately to both the rail and the Fierce Deity, feeling the mythical being's strong arm pressing him and Rusl closer together. Rusl and Abel exchanged a look, some kind of finality or certainty in each other's eyes as they nearly flew over another wave, facing it head on.

They still had to find their boys. Abel had to get back to Tilieth. He'd survived a damn apocalypse, he wasn't letting this be what killed him.

Glancing up at the pirate again, Abel saw the same fierce determination on his face. It was a promise, and despite how Abel's entire world was trying to kill him, he took comfort in it.

Abel closed his eyes, his forehead touching Fierce's sleeve, his hand brushing against Rusl's as they both held on to the deity for dear life, shivering and trusting and letting go.

Hylia... I leave this up to you. Don't let me down.

He lost track of time. All he heard was the crashing of waves, like claps of thunder, roaring in his ears, making his heart pound. But slowly, surely, the boat jostled them less, the wind didn't howl as it had, and the ship rocked and bounced up and down like a hammock instead of feeling like an earthquake.

Abel opened his eyes, dripping wet, tasting salt and bile, and saw sunlight.

Linebeck smiled down at them, hands on his hips, looking triumphant. "Told you I was the best."

Rusl barked out a laugh, slowly rising while Abel continued to shiver in Fierce's hold. "Well, I'm certainly impressed."

"Are you alright?" Fierce whispered softly, his arm shifting to rest his hand on Abel's back.

Hesitantly, Abel rose, testing his legs, though his knees certainly felt like they could give out at any moment.

It was official. He despised sailing.

But he could recognize and admire skill when he saw it. "Well done, Linebeck."

The pirate beamed, postiively preening at the praise, and Abel found he couldn't hold himself together any longer, leaning over the rail and vomiting.

Linebeck cackled quietly, heading back to his original spot. "Well, it isn't for everyone, I guess. But I promise the rest of the way is less rough."

Rusl helped Abel sink back to the floor while Fierce grabbed some water at the Ordonian's request.

"You good?" Rusl asked. He was shivering too, just as soaked to the bone as Abel, but he seemed far better put together.

"Nothing fazes you, does it?" Abel asked hoarsely, somewhat annoyed and jealous.

Rusl smirked. "We all have our strengths. You're certainly a better fighter than me."

If you say so. Abel pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a little less nauseous, and accepted the water Fierce offered him.

The sun slowly dried everyone off as they continued to make their way to their destination. Eventually, Rusl, being the talkative man that he was, starting gently interrogating their captain while Abel leaned against Fierce with his eyes closed. The deity didn't mind, letting himself be a pillow, but Abel could hear fabric shift as he turned to listen in to the other two.

"How did Link become part of your crew?"

"Well, I was hunting treasure," Linebeck explained. "Link wanted to find the ship I was looking for. His friend, uh, needed some help. So we worked together. I figured the kid worked so well it only made sense that he stick around. He..."

Here the pirate paused, and Abel looked over at him. His eyes were cast downward, and though shadows pulled at the dark circles under his eyes, he had a gentle smile on his face.

"He's a good kid."

Fierce sighed quietly, barely audible over the breeze. "I must figure out why these Yiga are after our children."

Linebeck grew flustered. "I said he wasn't my kid!! Look, he's just a useful member of the crew, okay? Honestly, I'm not that soft!"

Fierce blinked, the slightest crinkle to his nose, a dead giveaway that he was bemused. "You speak of love and affection as if they are weaknesses."

"Wha--I--this is silly, I am a pirate, and--"

"And?" Rusl prompted, eyebrows raised, a mischievous, gentle smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. Fierce may not have understood the man's blustering, but Rusl clearly was just trying to mess with him now, seeing right through his bravado.

Personally, Abel was just a little exasperated by it. Men who pretended they were "tough" and nothing affected them all the time simply to show off annoyed him. He used to maintain a calm façade not because he was trying to prove a point, but because the last thing people needed was to see someone in charge panicking. This was different. This wasn't a way to keep others feeling safe and secure, this wasn't a means of protecting others, this was a pitiful attempt for Linebeck to protect himself.

Perhaps it wouldn't annoy him so much if he didn't suspect the man behaved this way in front of his kid too. He could act a fool to others, but if he denied his affection for his boy right in front of him, Abel did not approve of that.

But he didn't have to say anything. Fierce's innocent confusion would tear down his argument well enough.

Linebeck huffed, looking like he was scrambling for an argument, but Abel had to interrupt it when he caught sight of something. "Is that land?"

Everyone turned to look, seeing a small splotch of yellow and black andd green, and Linebeck laughed triumphantly. "There it is! Land ho! I told you I would get us there in record time! Now hold on, you sorry land slugs, we're coming in fast!"

He was true to his word as it seemed to take little time to reach their destination. For once, it was blessedly easy to find their target - a large ship with the Yiga symbol on its mast, painted sloppily as if it had just been done, was at the port. Linebeck worked to slow their approach, when Abel instead insisted, "Don't slow us down, just ram it - we'll take care of the rest!"

"There's a cannon on this ship," Rusl noted.

"We can't risk hurting the boys if they're aboard," Abel argued, shaking his head. "Just damage it enough to stop them from escaping, and we can board."

Linebeck nodded. "Just so you know... it's uh, all up to you once we get there. I'm a fantastic fighter, but I'm afraid my sword is on my own ship."

Rusl and Abel both stared at him dully. "Right."

The men prepared themselves, weapons at the ready. Fierce pulled out his double helix blade, making Linebeck's eyes double in size. "Geez, overkill much? Get ready, we'll hit them on the port side."

"The--the what side?"

"Port, on the port--ugh, on your left!!"

The three moved, and Linebeck snapped, "Your other left!! Left from facing the bow!"

Abel sighed heavily, positioning himself and bracing for impact alongside the other two. As the Yiga ship grew closer at an admittedly unnerving rate, he prepared to jump.

Their boat slammed the Yiga ship, impaling its hull slightly and causing it to rock so severely that they could hear some of the enemies screaming and falling into the sea.

Linebeck roared in satisfaction. "HAHA, TAKE THAT YOU BRAINLESS JELLYFISH!"

Abel let the momentum of the movement carry him, Rusl, and Fierce across as they leapt with the contact. The Yiga boat was still nearly on its side when they landed, causing them to slip a little, but Abel recovered quickly, decapitating the first Yiga in sight before moving on to the next. The team moved quickly, with Fierce taking out swathes of the enemy in one fell swoop while Rusl tore ahead. Abel scoured the area for signs of a leader, entering the underbelly of the ship as well.

When he reached the brig, he froze, breath stolen from his lungs. There was another gate there, its bright kaleidoscope dizzyingly swirling, and two Yiga stood before it, holding an unconscious boy.

Oh hell no! Charging ahead, Abel stabbed one Yiga quickly, kicking the other off the child before finishing him off. Rusl hastened in shortly thereafter, wiping blood of his sword.

"Anyone else?" Abel asked as he knelt down to check on the child.

Rusl shook his head, cheeks flushed, eyes aflame. He held up a booklet. "Found a journal log, though. Might be able to help us."

At this point, Abel honestly wasn't surprised, just exasperated. He supposed the Yiga's main purpose in being here was to take this boy. Theirs were still at large.

At least they'd spared this boy the same fate.

Fierce entered last. "The enemy has been eliminated."

Abel sighed, looking down. The boy in front of him was young, not even a teenager from the looks of it, though he was likely close. His hair was thick and wispy, golden as the sands and thick with mositure and sea salt. He wore a green tunic and undershirt, paired with white trousers.

"Link!"

Catching the men's attention, Linebeck rushed into the room, kneeling down beside the boy. His hands hovered over him hesitantly, face paling at the abrasions on the boy's face. At first his concern was genuine, but his eyes shifted to the dead Yiga around him and suddenly he looked woozy.

Abel fought the urge to roll his eyes. He motioned with his head to Fierce, who quietly removed the bodies. With the distraction gone, the pirate returned his attention to the child, considerably less pale but still oh so hesitant and gentle with Link.

The boy stirred, squeezing his eyes before slowly blinking them open. Abel could see the immediate sparkle of relief as the boy registered seeing Linebeck, and the former knight smiled a little.

Linebeck smiled in return, hands finally settling on the child, patting hsi cheek and helping him sit up. His grip settled on the boy's shoulders, and he took a steadying breath.

And then he started shaking him like a rag doll.

"You stupid sea monkey, what were you thinking do you have any idea how much trouble I had to go through just to get to you, they sank my ship, now we have to get a new one--!"

The other men stared, a little caught off guard, and then Rusl gently pointed out, "Easy, you're going to give the kid whiplash."

Linebeck paused, glancing at them, leaving Link nearly limp in his grip, eyes dazed and clearly dizzy. The pirate huffed, pulling the boy to his feet, and Link stumbled around a few paces before nearly collapsing against him.

Sighing, Linebeck settled an arm around the child to keep him from falling over, letting him lean against him. "Well. The job's done, at least. But... didn't you say your boys were missing too?"

Rusl smirked. "Ah, so he is your boy?"

Linebeck jumped, eyes widening. "W-wha--no, I--you're dodging the question!"

Rusl waved the booklet in response. "I'm sure this log will have valuable information for us. But you and your son should get out of here. We'll make sure the Yiga can't come back."

Linebeck was practically inflating with hot air to rebuke Rusl's claims about him and Link, but he instead stormed out. "Honestly, I rescue you ungrateful sea barnacles and you mock me. I'm leaving."

"You forgot your kid," Abel noted dully as the boy shook his head and steadied himself.

"Link, let's go, what are you waiting for!" Linebeck called from above deck.

Abel put a steadying hand on the boy's shoulder while Rusl smiled warmly at him. "Better get going, son."

The boy looked between them, adn then the Fierce Deity, and then he nodded, saying softly, "Thank you. Thank you for taking care Linebeck."

With that, the kid ran outside, and Rusl laughed. Abel had to chuckle at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Let's get through this gate and seal it," Abel suggested. "We can read the journal after we get out of here. The less likely they can come back, the better."

Fierce's reply was cut off by voices from above.

"Linebeck, look! It's Jolene's ship!"

"Of course it is, I stole it!"

"But then why is your ship over there?"

"What?! My ship was--that's my ship!"

"Oh! I think I see Jolene on it!"

"She fixed my ship? SHE STOLE MY SHIP??"

Rusl and Abel exchanged a look, and then they both snickered.

Fierce glanced hesitantly above deck, but Abel shook his head. "Leave him to his fate. Clearly this is not their first encounter, and they've managed without us. We should go."

With that, the three men strode forward, preparing for another adventure.

#Tetra and Ciela were with Aryll and Grandma because there are only so many characters I can write that I don't know much about lol #I feel like Rusl might get annoyed with Linebeck occasionally but overall can see right through his little act #Abel on the other hand... whether he can tell it's an act or not he'd drive him nuts LOL #Fierce is just like “he isn't a threat and he's helping me so ok” #I feel like if Linebeck had stuck around and become a permanent member of the squad Fierce would've eventually inadvertently called him out #Fierce: Why do you choose to hide your concern and care behind meaningless words and bolstering bravado? Does it make you feel powerful? #Linebeck: *spluttering* #anyway Linebeck is an excellent sailor thank you for coming to my tedtalk #no matter how goofy or immature or cowardly he is this man is king of the seas and even Abel can respect that #Let Linebeck Be Cool 2024 #and then let him be a goof again lol #this was SO much fun to write oh my gosh #sorry it took a while to write but here it is :) #hope y'all enjoy <3 #also hope Linebeck feels right #Dad Squad #abel #rusl #fierce dadity #linebeck #phantom hourglass #legend of zelda #writing

[barrenclan]

Can’t stop thinking of a Have You Seen My Sister Evelyn AMV/MAP of Pinepaw and Daffodilpaw looking for their sister. It starts out silly- cartoon art style, Pine and Daff asking various Clanmates on where they saw Asphodel last, lots of hijinks and slapstick, etc. Over the course of the song, the landscape gets progressively darker and more realistic, with occasional realistic shots, until at the very end the gleeful illusion is broken and it’s just BarrenClan standing over a child’s corpse

Okay, I have got to address this. This is the - fourth? fifth? - time that this song has been suggested to me with this exact idea for it. I answered the first one some time ago, and haven't answered the succeeding ones for that reason, but I cannot ignore it any longer. PATFW fans psychically communicating to each other.

I see you sliding a DreamSMP song in here, I was there. You ain't slick.

Where will you be When the sun goes dark

Where will you be When death comes knocking Oh no, where will you be

I'm always surprised how many people write songs about empty, forsaken lands! It's more popular than I thought.

There's nothing left of this day There's nothing left of this town Our time has ceased with such sorrow There's no one left here to mourn

Outside they cry, wolves in the night <- arooo.... Dark with their howls all around We'll just lie here, clothed in our sheepskin And trying to pretend there's no harm

I am going to put my two cents in and say DarkProwl.

You called, I answered Open the door, I enter The glow, the candor A feeling like no other

I wanna climb inside Be someone impolite Wanna eat you alive Should I, should I, should I?

AHHH HELP... you're not. Wrong??

This sounds like a super cute idea, with Blacknose being the singer and the bridge between Egret and Mallow.

It could be weird, but I think I'm into it You know I'm one for the overly passionate I like you, and I loved him We could all be the best kind of friends

You've got so much in common Talk about your taste in women I'll be in the middle While you two get along

Heartaches, heartaches My loving you, they're only heartaches Your kiss was such a sacred thing to me I can't believe it's just a burning memory

Heartaches, heartaches What does it matter how my heart breaks? I should be happy with someone new But my heart aches for you

Wailing... sobbing... my boys.......

Please, please be here for me dear 'Cause I've never needed a friend more And I can't stress enough How much it means to me that you're trying And I don't mind if you can't hold me like you used to 'Cause I've never hated myself more And this is just a bump in the road and I promise I'm trying

I'm trying to tear the wool from your eyes But a part of me wants to let you be 'Cause then you wouldn't see what I've become

Yes I think it would be!

Follow my moves Don't make a sound We will get past and we'll never be found Darker than blue Darker than black We will escape and we'll never come back

I can see it! Something about lost childhoods, and homes that used to be full but are now empty.

Standing in the yard, dressed like a kid The house is white and the lawn is dead The lawn is dead, the lawn is dead

Illinois toll road, Indiana plain Roll the windows down, shoot at the change Half return, half return Honey in your mouth when you gave me my name Tears in your eyes when you pull it like a chain

#ask #anon #music #pinepaw #darkprowl #blacknose #egrettail #mallowstar #cormorantpaw

[starsignchaser]

may 1st | prompt: rose | word count: 759 | @rosekillermicrofic | mentions: drinking | TW Emetophobia

Evan felt the wall of heat behind him before he felt the throb of his head. For just a second he got to pretend like he wasn’t going to have to nurse one hell of a hangover today.

Wincing, he attempted to squish his face directly into his pillow. Maybe if he tried hard enough to avoid the rising sun he could put off the inevitable for just a little while longer. Plus, it would be nice to get to spend a few more hours wrapped up in Barty, warm and comfortable and in their bed.

However, it seemed Barty had other ideas. 

“Rosie… I don’t feel so good,” came a grumbling whisper from behind Evan’s left ear. In the next second, Evan felt the other man go stiff before bolting out of bed and running down the hall to the bathroom. 

Evan half-grimaced, half-laughed, feeling bad for Barty while still taking a little joy in him being the one to spew his guts. They had basically gone shot-for-shot the night before, until Evan tapped out, leaving Barty to do nothing but crow about how it was him who had out-drank Evan. Serves him right for being a sore winner. 

Before Evan had even finished debating the merits of getting up to go rub Barty on the back while sitting on the bathroom floor, the brunette himself returned, standing in the doorway to their bedroom. He learned his shoulder against the doorjamb and squinted at Evan.

“You look like you just rose from the dead.” 

Barty snorted before wincing at his own loudness, “Yeah, I feel that way too.”

He made his way back to the bed slowly, not taking his eyes off of Evan. With Barty’s escape, the sheets had been rumpled in a way that left his bare back lay exposed with his face peeking over his shoulder. 

“You brushed your teeth right? I’m not letting you back in here if your breath is rank.” Evan questioned, trying to sound serious even though he knew he could never turn Barty away.

“Nice and minty fresh, just for you, baby,” Barty said, winking and showing his teeth.

As Barty got closer, Evan went to lay on his back from that only made the other man frown.

“No, no, stay like that. I want to hold you.” Barty said, basically pouting, making Evan roll his eyes. 

“You can still hold me if I’m facing you. Plus, this way I get to see your face.” he responded, trying not to think about the blush rising to his cheeks. He needn’t worry though because he could see Barty soften at his words. 

The two came together under their big warm duvet, Barty on his back with Evan curled into his side, and the blond moved to rub some of the chill out of the others arms. Meanwhile, Barty started tracing little shapes on Evan’s shoulder. He probably thought Evan wouldn’t realize what he was writing, but Evan could always tell.

Mine

Smiling to himself at his boyfriend's antics, he was surprised to feel the soft press of lips to his forehead.

“What was that for?” he whispered, turning his curious gaze up. He was surprised to see Barty looking down at him with almost anxiety in his eyes.

“Rosie,” Barty trailed off, looking like he was struggling to find the right words. Evan was always patient for him.

Another press of lips to his forehead, almost like he couldn’t help himself. Holding himself there for a few seconds, breathing in deep and letting it go, tickling Evan’s scalp slightly.

“You know, right?” came the words, finally, pressed into Evan’s skin.

They didn’t talk about it. They didn’t sit down and go through the formalities of it all. They were Barty and Evan. They had been inseparable since they met, best friends and thick as thieves from day one. And they grew and changed and became even more. Together. But they didn’t talk about it.

That didn’t have to.

“Yeah, B.” Evan whispered back, moving up to meet Barty’s eyes. “I know.”

“You… good. That’s good.” came the almost nervous reply, like the dark-haired man couldn’t believe his luck in being understood.

“And,” a pause, “you know about me too, right? B, you gotta know,” Evan said, moving to lay his hand on the others’ cheek, pulling him in.

“I know, Rosie, I know. I promise,” replied Barty, wrapping his arm even tighter around Evan’s shoulders. 

Laying their foreheads together, wrapped in each other's heat, the pair slowly drifted back to sleep.

#i just wanted these two boys soft and in love because yes they are great when their biting and bleeding but like I love them like this too!! #rosekiller #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #rosekiller fic #mauraders #emily writes #i have not written a single thing of fanfic in ten years so pls be nice to me thank you :))))))

[creative-heart]

I've heard you want requests? 😏

You know how to make me happy 🥹

I still l o v e the newest pictures... could be something you can work with? Quiet and peaceful vacation with Enzo, away from all the trouble of life🙏🏻

I definitely could need it... ❤️

Lucia's notes: Thank you my lovely @lastflowrr for this request, it was so cute to write this little Drabble/One Shot based on these pictures, I really hope I make justice to what you had in mind 🤗🤗🥰🥰.

"Hidden haven"| Enzo Vogrincic

Content Warning: Just a little slight reference to sex, but in general, just a fluffy little piece.

Word Count: 1k

You know  Enzo has been so stressed and tired with all the press tour and award season for his last movie, in almost two months you’ve rarely seen each other all three consecutive days, being a last year neurosurgery resident you can’t go away for long. Luckily enough, the universe, the gods or whatever you want to blame it on have aligned for once to your favor and your yearly holidays are coming up just as your raven haired boyfriend finishes with all this madness; so to celebrate and without telling him, you’ve organized a little roadtrip to a cabin in the mountains, just a week or so just for the two of you and you couldn’t wait to surprise him with it. 

As soon as the tan skinned man walked inside your shared home you run to hug him as if it is the last thing you’ll do in your life and you need it to stay alive “I missed you so much Zo” you mumble in the crook of his neck holding yourself up to try and match his height. He holds you up as he peppers your face with featherlike kisses “I missed you too chiquitita mía” he spaces each word with a kiss ending up on your lips with a soft, loving kiss. 

“I’ve got a surprise for you…I know you’ve been traveling so much, but…I’ve planned a roadtrip getaway for us, we’re going to Bariloche for a week, just us two, no phones answered, nothing” you smile looking at him “We’re leaving tomorrow, I’m driving so you’re relaxing and in charge of the aux chord”

Early the next morning you two set your course out for the sweet and long awaited retreat from the world. You glance over in your boyfriend’s direction to see him laid back on the passenger seat, coffee mug in hand, sunglasses on. Enzo sighs relaxed and glances at you “I love you so much for this, I really needed this, thank you so much bebé”. You smile and the drive goes by smoothly while singing oldschool songs in the most out of tune way possible, snacking on your favourite chocolates and fries and just enjoying the time being just you two with no one from the outside world to derange you.

You arrive at the little cabin in the woods just before the sun starts setting behind the beautiful mountains, and you know it’s been snowing not long ago, the white carpet fresh on the ground. While you go and set your things down in the master bedroom upstairs, Enzo starts trying to work the fireplace and get it started, it’s an old school one with actual logs. After everything is settled, you longue on the couch in your pj’s cuddled up to your boyfriend’s chest playing with his fingers absentmindedly as he hummed eyes closed enjoying being this close to you “You know, I love the fact that getting more well known allows me to work and keep making a living out of this, but….getting recognized everywhere and people staring or asking for pictures is something I definitely do not love” you smile softly keeping your eyes closed as you hear Enzo’s deep soothing voice behind you and you give his forearm a soft squeeze, you knew he didn’t like people looking at him, and you definitely didn’t enjoy not being able to do as many things as you once did together because of that, but on the other hand, you also knew how much he loves acting and that this is what helped him keep doing it.

“I know darling, but I just think you are so good at what you do, that people just get too taken with you and your characters, take Numa for example, you touched so many people with him it was unbelievable”. You feel him humming against the skin on your neck as he trails soft kisses up and down, and you know exactly what he’s doing, it’s his tactic every time he wants to shift the conversation from himself, and in all honesty, it always works. “Zo…” you whisper in what wants to be a warning tone but ends up being more a pleading tone and the little sucker smriks against your warm skin “you can’t blame now, can you princess?” and all you can do is hum when you hear him call you that, he knows just what to say and what to do to make all your stress melt away and your brains turn into mush.

The next few days go by in a haze of late lazy mornings in bed looking out the window, limbs all tangled up together after having some coffee, once you both can master up the will to get out from under the bed covers, usually after some lazy love making as well, you sit down to work on a puzzle Enzo insisted on bringing over, it has like a thousand pieces and you most definitely do not have the patience to do it, but if that’s what the love of your life wants to spend his hours doing, then you’ll sit next to him mostly pretending to help before getting bored and taking his camera walking around snapping silly candid pictures of him working on his project the surrounding mountains, you even go out on little walks around the place to capture some nature through the lens.

Time definitely goes by differently here because when you’re feeling at home and Enzo and you have fallen into a sweet rhythm of slowed down life, you need to go back into the real world and as you pack up your clothes back into the suitcase you sigh, you have definitely enjoyed this time you’ve had here being just the two of you, no prying eyes and screaming girls asking for pictures with your boyfriend feeling left aside. You try to push those intrusive thoughts away as Enzo has made it his life work to reassure you that there’s no one more important in his life than you, well…maybe Ada, but you’re a close second to the cat you share custody of and you know that’s absolutely true, for wherever you may be, his eyes always find your own, and you feel as if you were right here, in a secluded spot just the two of you know.

P.S: This hasn't been proofread, so if you see any mistakes, please do let me know, I appreacite it. Also, my girlies, keep the reqs coming, don't be shy, fluff, smut, angst whatever you have for me, for Enzo, Kuku, Simón and Santi 💖💖💖💖

Taglist:

@madame-fear  @cyliarys-starlight @castawaycherry @luceracastro @espinasrubi @koiibiito @candycanes19 @nperoconelcositoarriba @lxdyred @deepinsideyourbeing

#enzo vogrincic one shot #enzo vogrincic drabble #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic fluff #lsdln cast x reader #lsdln cast fluff #lsdln cast fanfic #lsdln cast fic #enzo #enzo vogrincic #fanfiction #fanfic #drabble #oneshot