#my ranking of the companions would be:

[waterdeepthroat]

i know i kinda have a reputation to uphold as an astarionposter but like. he's not even my fav character in bg3...

#my ranking of the companions would be: #1. shadowheart 2. jaheira 3. lae'zel 4. astarion 5. wyll 6. halsin 7. karlach 8. gale and then minsc/minthara bc i haven't recruited either #idk i just really love how jaheira was portrayed in bg3 and i feel like she doesn't get enough love #+ lae'zel's story arc may not be as compelling to me personally as astarion's but. gith lore is like my absolute fav thing and i love her s #and i've already talked loads about how shadowheart is my no. 1 #re: wyll i actually really like him and he would've been ranked higher if i hadn't played early access. i miss his more playful side tbh #halsin ranks higher than karlach or gale because of how much his being canon polyam means to me. also he's funny as hell #karlach and gale's stories just didn't resonate as hard with me ig?? i love them all they're just not my favs #there's literally no companion i actively dislike which is v strange bc in most games i usually HATE at least one. #in dao i HATED sten. in da2 it was seb. in dai it was cassandra. in poe2 it was pallegina. in nwn2 it was bishop. in wotr it was daeran #anyway i could go on and on about how larian made fundamentally flawed but still likable characters. i just love them sm. #edit: even though gameplay-wise wotr is one of my top games ever. i actively hated like half of the companions lmao #lmk if you want me to make a post about who i like and why in pfwotr bc i am Very Opinionated

[incomprehensiblelentils]

We finished Twelve’s run on Doctor Who today and it literally took me only two months to go from “hmmm I don’t really Get Clara’s character at all” to immediately bursting into tears when she returned in the last episode

#nobody asked but I think my companion ranking is like: #Amy Donna Martha Clara Bill Rose River #Thirteen’s companions tbd #i would kill and die for Rose and River incidentally I just love them a TINY bit less

[fenkko]

one who had dreams of being a hero

This comic is based on Story 3, which speaks of his hobby of ice fishing originating from the days he'd go out with his father on the ice, 'accompanied by his father's unending tales of adventure,' and dream of being the protagonist.

Nowadays, he keeps up the hobby, though only as a method of training... and it seems he fishes alone.

I thought a lot about fairytales and stories told to children -- how they are used to impart lessons and shape a child's growing sense of morality.

I think these stories were Childe's father telling him what kind of man he hoped his son would become.

In Story 5, 'his father had no choice but to hand his beloved son over for conscription into the Fatui' in an attempt to discipline his temper, but was disappointed when Childe continued ascending the ranks, further and further from the gentle boy he was..

His father named him after the hero Ajax. Is he still disappointed in the path Childe has taken? Does he still see his son in the man he sees before him? Does Childe feel in himself the chasm between who he dreamed of becoming and who he is now?

It's interesting, that fairytales should often have a very strict good/evil morality. Childe professes he has no use for such things, and will gladly become a mindless weapon so long as he can continue honing himself for battle. And yet, has he truly given up on being human?

For a Harbinger, Childe is oddly principled, preferring straightforward battles without deceit. He retains a sort of moral code, reluctant to involve those who are defenseless in his plans.

And of course, he deeply cherishes his family. What sort of weapon has a family? Why does he cling so desperately to this identity as a defender of childhood dreams, of being his sister Tonia's knight?

Perhaps his own dream of being a hero died long ago, but a part of him still recognizes the tragedy of it and maybe... in some way, is still trying.

This is somewhat of a companion piece to my Scara comic "one who has given up on being saved". Childe, unable to live up to his childhood ideals of heroism, and Scara, whose pleas for help went unanswered.

A failed hero, and someone who never had one.

ARGHH yknow it drives me nuts. I haven't known peace since I started thinking about it.

#VERY LONG POST sorry i'm really normal about them. please enjoy my essay #childe #genshin impact #genshin impact fanart #childe fanart #teucer #fatui harbingers #my art #my comics #happy birthday childe.. sorry my present is a comic about what a disappointment you are to your father..

[soul-branding]

Minthara learning that thousands of powerful, yet uniquely psychologically malleable people (possibly invisible to infravision!) are moving into the Underdark, led by her new companion Astarion: How do you feel about drinking blood. A lot of blood. Specifically the blood of my enemies when I march back to Menzoberanzan and stage a coup. :) After that it's deicide.

Astarion, who would kill for a decent shower and some new shoes: Will there be fancy wine and silk sheets?

Minthara: You may have the wine and bedding of the highest ranking noble you kill.

Astarion: Sold.

#bg3 #minthara #astarion #bg3 spoilers #this is a shitpost but also hear me out #spiderblood

[magerightsmagefights]

I know people tend to forget Wyll a lot in this fandom (I wonder why. What Could Possibly Be Different. Can you spot the difference?/s) but I'm genuinely surprised at the lack of Durge x Wyll content. Especially if you're going Redeemed, there's that inherent flavor of "My lover cannot know the truth, I am horrible and they would hate me, they would be correct to hate me." And with Wyll it's just... so juicy, he's so pure and shining, and Durge is so filled with filth and misery that there's barely a person left underneath.

Idk, as a femme romance reader I've spent so many years reading the "love redeems" arc where a FMC plays beauty to an MMC beast, in every genre, medium, budget, etc. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but beauty and the beast as a story structure has never done it for me.

until it's reversed, apparently, because Wyll as the beauty to Durge's beast needs to be injected directly into my veins like yesterday. All the other companions are good and sweet, don't get me wrong, but their reactions are coded like 'i accept you,' where Wyll to me comes off much more as 'we will heal you.' He doesn't have any funny little quips about you trying to bite him, no innuendos, no "I Will Put You Down" a la Laezel, he's just... so good, and he believes in your inherent goodness, he so easily sees "you" and "your urges" as wholly seperate entities he would step between if he could.

Speaking of which!! The coronation scene, when everyone finds out you're Bhaalspawn? I never see anyone talking about Wyll's reaction compared to other companions getting angry (even Dark Shadowheart will yell at you) because Wyll seems to be the ONLY PERSON who immediately separates you(the person he knows) from you(the person you used to be). Astarion isn't angry, he even appreciates your scheme freeing him from Cazador, but he also kinda falls into the whole "I will talk to you as if you are the exact same person who did these things, this is Your True Nature and I feel positive about it."

Wyll's reaction feels like the only one saying "You WERE that," instead of "You ARE that." It also feels like the only one that kinda-sorta acknowledges Durge's actual amnesia, because he doesn't treat this revelation like a betrayal the way the other "good" companions do. They be saying "The real evil was hiding within our ranks all along" like wym hiding? Durge didn't know either, how tf they supposed to tell you?

Wyll doesn't even blink. Once he knows what you are, his No.1 priority is reassuring YOU about it. The fact you're Bhaalspawn isn't a betrayal; it's a Horrible Burden and he's sorry you have to bear it, but there have been others like you who were good, who overcame, and your blood isn't who you are. His first instinct is to offer hope, to reassure you that there's a way out, he believes so hard that your urges are a defeatable enemy and he's ready to fight them with you.

(I also fall into the Durge And Gortash Fucked camp, and I cannot overstate the tastiness of Durge waltzing into the coronation of their ex, the Worst Man Alive, while bringing along their new boyfriend, the Best Man Alive)

Idk, I've just never engaged in a romance where I played the part of the Beast. As much as people rag on pure, princely archetypes, I don't actually see them that often. I genuinely don't remember the last time I read/saw a male lead behave like Wyll, but I've seen plenty of Astarions, Fenrises, Rhysands, etc. Romance loves a fixable MMC, but so rarely an MMC who wants to do the fixing.

Anyway. Justice for Wyll or whatever. I can only cross my fingers that future DLC will include more romance content, because we all deserve to have a Beauty for our Beast sometimes.

#bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate spoilers #the dark urge #bg3 durge #durge bg3 #wyll ravengard #wyll x durge #bg3 wyll #baldurs gate wyll #durgewyll

[songsofadelaide]

Means Something

There were always two sides to a story. Laios Touden was the worst person to fall in love with. But somehow, Laios Touden knew right from the start that you were the perfect person to fall in love with.

cw: Laios x f!cleric reader, manga spoilers, fluff, reader is so whipped for this man - he reciprocates in kind. No use of yn and instead follows my usual naming convention (I use Imogene as a placeholder for yn since it means maiden, which pretty much means yn too). Mentions of procreation (but not the act itself lol), and inaccurate depictions of the Dungeons & Dragons game. wc: 2.6k

When you first joined the Touden siblings' party, you had the most difficult time trying to earn the trust of each member, especially Marcille, who had some qualms about your skills as a homeschooled cleric. Chilchuck and Namari had the same concern: the dungeon was no place for a noble girl like you, no matter how good you were with your healing magic. Shuro was quick to defend your entry, though, pointing out that as a daughter of nobility, 'you must have had access to only the finest teachers of magic your family could provide.' He was right about that.   

But their opinions didn't matter much when it was Falin herself who wanted you in the party. She happily welcomed you aboard when she heard about your struggles trying to get a party to accept a rookie cleric in their ranks. And if Falin thought you were a good person, then you were good enough for Laios, too. 

"The more people we have in our corner, the easier the job gets done, right?"  

…And the way he welcomed you with a twinkle in his honey-coloured eyes and a smile that shamed the sun was forever burned in your mind. 

Little did you know that Laios Touden was the worst person to fall in love with. 

When your family caught wind of your party's disastrous exit from the dungeon, you were promptly summoned back to your estate, as though further proving their point that the dungeon wasn't a place for someone like you. Yet you promptly burned the missive and sought out Laios the first moment you could. 

…And you caught him, Marcille, and Chilchuck enjoying a meal made of monsters on the first floor of the dungeon— along with a new dwarf companion, Senshi, who had the street smarts and a taste for unorthodox gastronomic delights. While Laios was delighted to see you, he was evidently more enthralled by the taste of the hotpot he chowed down to the quick. 

And while it tasted amazing, you couldn't help but be a little apprehensive about the whole set-up. "So we've resorted to eating monsters now?"

"You can always head back to the surface if the thought makes your stomach turn," Chilchuck replied nonchalantly. 

"I-I'm staying! I want to save Falin, too!"

"Then let's hear less complaining and start working a bit more, okay?"

Laios was more apologetic. "I'm in no position to be asking for help, but we'd really appreciate having you around. Though our meals and rations aren't… the usual."

Good grief, you thought to yourself. Laios and his morbid, burning fascination with monsters wasn't new to you. He and Falin were cut from the same cloth, after all. His enthusiasm for the unusual was more endearing than repulsive to you and Shuro surprisingly understood your sentiment well enough to agree. You would pretty much do anything for the Touden siblings— even if they didn't ask.

"You don't have to worry about me, Laios. I… I'll be all right! Now let's go save Falin!"  

And if Senshi could guarantee that the monster meals he cooked were safe to consume, then you were more than all right. 

When Senshi and Chilchuck surveyed your surroundings and deemed it safe to make camp, you did whatever you could to make yourself useful to the party as you always did. Senshi's aversion to using magic for the most basic tasks made that more difficult than usual because magic is all you've ever known. The dwarf would delegate the simplest tasks to you, though, as if reassuring you that your presence is still very much appreciated. 

Food is fellowship.

…Or at least that's how you felt about everything now— ever since Senshi started whipping up all these amazing meals for everyone. Except it isn't just food. 

He often asks you to hand-wash some monster parts before he starts cooking— before transforming them into nutritious meals— "The heat'll kill the germs and all, but washing these adds an extra layer of protection fer us."

You couldn't help but overhear the rest of the party's discussion when they thought you were still busy washing vegetables and monster parts. Senshi said you were surprisingly diligent with your work, no matter how simple it was. 

"That kind of woman will make a good wife, Laios." 

Chilchuck groaned, and you imagined him shaking his head in disapproval. "Don't give him any ideas, Senshi! Party romances are awful and cause nothing but chasms between members!"

"So you must have noticed it, too, Senshi!" Marcille exclaimed rather excitedly. "You must have seen how Imogene looks at Laios!"

"Me?" The tall-man remarked with a look of complete disbelief, no doubt. "What about me?"

You were certain Izutsumi had no interest in this particular conversation and was supposedly curled up in a corner, one ear perked up in maybe a faint bit of amusement.

"Yes, you, you dolt," she replied. "What do you think of Imogene?"

"And don't think we don't notice how you treat her, Laios," said Chil, who surely had an exasperated expression on his face now. "It's like you never learn!"

That's strange, you thought. Laios always treated everyone in the party equally and trusted everyone unequivocally. And while you never paid much thought to how thoughtful he was… Wait, does he really treat me that differently?!

"Well, I think she's…"

Oh, you couldn't possibly bear the thought of having to hear what Laios thought about you. You were cool with being friends and fellow adventurers, never mind the fact that he was more interested in which monster to pair up with which vegetable and spice. Never mind that you've liked him from the beginning. 

"I-I'm back!" You stepped out of the shadows and squeaked at them as you hauled the basin of vegetables and monster parts next to Senshi. "I, uh, did exactly as you told, Senshi. Washed the mushrooms very carefully a-and…"

"Thank ye kindly," he nodded at you as he took the basin from your hands. "You all right, Imogene? You're a little warm to the touch."

"Oh, no! Are you feeling sick?! L-Let's—!" Marcille asked with a panicked look on her face. 

"I should check your temperature just to be sure, Imogene. We can't have anyone getting sick now," Laios stated as he moved to approach you, but you surprised him and the rest of the party by rebuffing his advance. 

"N-No! I'm fine, really!" You raised your hands in defence. "I-In fact, I'm starving! Like super hungry! Humongous hungry! S-So let's get cooking!"

You usually steered clear of Senshi's warpath when he was cooking, but neither Chilchuck nor Marcille could peel you from his side this time, even though it was clear that the heat of the fire made you incredibly uncomfortable. 

"Y'know, Imogene… I might scald ye if yer not careful where you step," the cook said. "How's about you help Marcille with the bowls instead?" 

"O-Okay, Senshi…"

"And don't avoid Laios. He's pretty dense and all, but you and I both know that he'll notice when something's a li'l diff'rent."

A small, ungraceful whine of protest left your lips when you realised just how Senshi never failed to notice even the most minuscule changes in everyone's movements. Marcille was happy to have you next to her and even made sure that you truly weren't sick like everyone thought. 

The hearty meal was portioned and doled out and your eyes were once more inexplicably drawn to the leader of your band, his monologue about the richness of the flavours dancing in his mouth falling on deaf ears save yours… Laios and his praising comments about Senshi's cooking made every meal more palatable than the last, and it made the thought of consuming monsters all the more bearable for you. 

Everyone was either asleep in their sleeping bags or trying to, and you fell into the latter category. It wasn't just you, though, because Laios approached your bedding almost soundlessly, sitting next to you far too comfortably that your elbows brushed against each other. 

"How are you feeling, Imogene?" 

"Oh, Laios. I'm all right. No need to worry." 

Even in the light of the small, dying embers of the campfire, his sharp features stood out impeccably— the fine line of his jaw, the length of his neck— now exposed without any of his armour, the breadth of his shoulders slightly stretching his tunic, as though slightly showing the tenseness of his arms… His rigid torso— Wait, snap out of it! 

"I see. Let me just check, then." 

Your closeness did not bother you one bit. This was Laios, after all, and he cared for everyone in your party as—

Looking back, he did offer his hand to you more often than anyone else. He frequently entrusted Kensuke to you since you were the only one who could stomach holding the monster sword, too. And the way he'd tell you to 'watch your step, it's dark' with his voice so grounding and reassuring… 

Laios gently held your cheek as he rested his forehead against your own, his eyes closed for a quiet moment as though in silent observation. 

Oh. Oh, dear. 

"Hmm. You do look all right, but you're a little bit warm… Imogene?"

He opened his amber eyes to the sight of your wide gaze and quivering lip. 

Tact wasn't his greatest attribute, but his slight carelessness and cluelessness were endearing to you, too. 

"A-Are you okay?"

"Geez, Laios, you really have no clue what you do to me," you said with a defeated sigh. "Listen to me for a bit, will you?"

The tenseness left his shoulders as you tenderly reached for his hand that held your face just mere moments ago. You lowered your lashes and determined that you couldn't look at him straight, not with his honey-coloured eyes gazing back at you so earnestly. 

"I like you, Laios. A lot. If you want me to be more specific and scientific about things, I like you and I want to procreate with you. I want to have your babies. Philosophically, I like you so much that if we ever die and be reincarnated, I'd search the entire world just so I could be by your side again."

"Wh—"

"A-And you don't have to respond to my feelings at all! Not yet, at least!" You sputtered at him as you finally raised your eyes to meet his own. "We… Saving Falin is our top priority. Everything else can wait!" 

"But—"

"No b-buts, Laios! I—"

"Imogene."

His larger hand squeezed your own, grounding your querulous thoughts until you steadied your gaze at him again. On his face was a pensive look that suggested the depths of his own thoughts, only for his words to betray him. 

"So you're saying you like me to the point of procreation."

What? 

And the warmth you've been trying to keep at bay simply rose to your face once more in the form of sheer embarrassment. "Was that all you heard from what I just said?!" 

Laios Touden knew right from the start that you were the perfect person to fall in love with.

When Falin mentioned to him that your curiosity about the world drew you out of your esteemed home— regardless of your family's dissatisfaction with your choice of a career— it was like she found herself a kindred spirit. Him, too, he couldn't help but think. And wow, you were pretty. You were reserved but steadfast, and he understood the way of this world well enough to know that your kindness would get taken advantage of if you joined the wrong crew. 

When he lost Falin to the Red Dragon, he expected that you would be spirited back to your home. Still, he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders when you met on the First Floor of the dungeon, your determination to get back who you lost ablaze even though you were faced with the prospect of consuming monsters for sustenance. 

Senshi didn't have to mention it. You truly were a diligent worker who would make any man happy— any home happy. Laios entertained the thought of a warm home with you by his side— maybe with Falin, too, (and the rest of the party, for some reason) but he knew what he had to do to make that daydream a reality. 

And to think that you liked him back all this time. 

You didn't ask for much on your journey into the very depths of the dungeon, but you remained steadfast and faithful to the mission— even when the party entered a whole different dimension, and even when you were faced with the weight and reality of your nightmares and desires. 

—The same look of disappointment on your parents' face. But there was Laios, too. His ash blonde hair and eyes the colour of the sweetest honey from the comb. His long and sturdy arms encasing you in an embrace, the weight of his body over yours, the tenderness of his kiss— (Your stomach round with a baby that looks just like him.)

Even when he became the Lord of the Dungeon, and even when you were faced with his monstrous, chimera-like form, what anchored you and kept you afloat was your steadfast and profound love for Laios and who he was. 

And when Falin awoke from her deep, deep sleep with a hunger for something unearthly, you remembered just how much you liked her, too. 

When you told Laios that he didn't have to respond to your feelings so soon, he respected your fortitude and eventually returned your sentiments in kind by making you his queen, much to your surprise and chagrin. (He enjoyed procreating with you more than he let on. But he'll let his eccentric, boisterous and lively household do the talking for him.) 

As king, he had a mountain of tasks to accomplish to set things in their proper order, but he was never too busy to share a meal with you, and the rest of your friends, too.

The tale of the love that grew between the king of the sunken kingdom, the Devourer of All Things Horrible, and his beloved queen— who was also his comrade-in-arms— became a classic, cherished romance in their kingdom for aeons to come. 

— 202X.

[ Dungeons & Dragons Potluck Night. Food is fellowship! Adventure awaits! ]

…Is what the colourful poster says. Something about it made you inexplicably drawn to it, as though your heart is saying 'go!'. You moved to this little island town in search of purpose and meaning, but perhaps all you wanted was a place to belong. 

So when the door to the small community club swung open and heralded your arrival, you presented the bewildered group— a young man around your age, his younger sister by the looks of it, no doubt, a blonde woman with a sharp, intellectual gaze, a slightly older man with a penchant for teasing, a heavily-bearded senior citizen whose observant eyes remain razor-edged, and a girl with a black cat— with some oxtail and tripe stew in a savoury peanut sauce while they were still in the middle of a quest they couldn't quite finish on their own, the coloured dice and makeshift board on their wide table seemingly untouched for the last hour. 

You said you didn't have much experience with the game, but you were willing to learn even more about it if you were welcome. 

The young man with the ash blonde hair and eyes the colour of honey beamed at you with a smile that shamed the sun. 

"We've been waiting for you!" He said. "The more people we have in our corner, the easier the job gets done, right?" 

Whether it was fate or the universe conspiring to bring you to him— like a promise made in a lifetime past, it was already pretty clear that you'd fall in love with Laios Touden in this lifetime, too. 

✦ Means Something playlist ✦ ✦ AO3 Link ✦

#songsofadelaidewrites💛 #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi x reader #reader insert #laios dungeon meshi #laios touden #laios touden x reader #laios x reader #laios fluff

[bredstick]

Hello! I hope you are having a good day. This is the first time I'm making a request so if I write stupid things, please turn down my request. Male!reader can see curses even though he has no cursed energy. Although he is very kind and gentle looking, curses are running away from him because of the energy he radiates. He is descended from a clan that was destroyed by the Sukuna in history. The general characteristics of those coming from this clan are that although they are physically weak, they can destroy even the strongest curses with a single touch. Also, the men of this clan appear feminine in appearance and can be mistaken for a woman from afar. And the jujutsu sorcerers are unaware of the existence of any of this clan because they think they have all been destroyed. Also a member of this clan can be easily identified from their physical characteristics. So what is the reaction of Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, and Sukuna when the reader is able to heal curses that have been transformed from human into curses and destroy the bad curses without doing anything, even though he has no cursed energy at all?

Sorry if it's too long and complicated English is not my first language. Thank you!

JJK men find out you're a descendant from an extinct clan (male reader!)

Reactions from Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Sukuna

Gojo Satoru

▪︎ He didn't even know about the clan and its users until other people spoke up about you, how you were different from the others- already speculating you have connections to the clan.

▪︎ He was curious on who you were, since that's the first time he'd heard of you, so he arranged a group mission with you involved (principal was confused, why did the strongest need a companion?)

▪︎ First look at you he thought you were a woman until you spoke up on the mission, allerting him of certain dangers across the curse filled field. He was surprised, but it didn't really matter. He just wanted to see the powers you behold.

▪︎ Turns out the enemy was bigger than he thought, and wanted you to step back from it, considering your body was quite frail and you seemed weak to him- he didn't know what to do when the curse was moving in the speed of light towards you.

▪︎ He was just about to teleport you away, but you sensed a curse approaching you, and as a reflex you immediately put your hand up and touched it without seeing the said curse. You could feel it, not see it.

▪︎ Just as you touched it, it exploded without a second thought. You and Gojo just stood there in complete silence, Gojo's lips slowly forming a grin. You might become someone on his level.

"So, mystery boy, what's your name?"

Kento Nanami

▪︎ Didn't really care when he saw you around until he was on a mission with you, not even knowing you're the one everyone's been talking about

▪︎ "I'll take care of this" thinking you're still a newbie and don't know how to use your technique because he didn't sense any cursed energy within you

▪︎ TAKEN ABACK by the way you destroyed the higher rank curse so quickly- needed to register the fact that such a frail person could behold such power (he's totally not jealous)

▪︎ Is even more taken aback when you heal yourself, thinking that he's seeing things

▪︎ "So..... you've mastered your cursed technique I see.." he says after awkwardly standing next to you for who knows how long

(you're on the villain's side on these)

Suguru Geto

▪︎ He wasn't paying attention to you, thinking you were just a boring sorcerer with no power to overturn the world to what he wants to create- he did question your gender though lol

▪︎ Not until a fight with jujutsu sorcerers (including gojo's presence) have you really proved yourself worthy of his praise

▪︎ He was oh so so glad you were on his side when he saw your healing abilities- seeing Gojo's face drop in realization on who's clan you belonged to has made him thrilled

▪︎ "how about we rule the world together?" he said with that smirk of his;)

Toji Fushiguro

▪︎ "uhh.. what are you exactly?" would totally be his first words while meeting you

▪︎ he wasn't even listening to you until you mentioned your clan, which he heard of from the zen'in clan and how overpowered your clan compared to his was- which had a positive effect on him since he hated his own clan. The murmurs of "I'm glad the clan got wiped out years ago" was coursing through his mind while he snickered, and took on your offer of getting together for the destruction of the zen'in clan.

▪︎ When he saw your abilities and even saw that you and him both don't have cursed energy was a big win for him, thinking of treating you to a nice dinner after you're done with the killing (let's hope he can afford it)

▪︎ "I've been waiting for this" he says, slashing the clan's throats.

(here you're on the good side again)

Ryomen Sukuna

▪︎ Your abilities being shown to him made him go back to the good old days when he was slaughtering your kind to bits, giving him ptsd from you just showing him one of the techniques

▪︎ "How the hell did your kind come back?? I killed all of you" he says in the most disrespectful tone ever, making you rage

▪︎ he underestimates your power, forgetting how troublesome your clan was to kill- perhaps you were even stronger than them, making him wonder who taught you to perfect the techniques and how he could let someone slip away from his brutal slaughter.

▪︎ when he gets seriously injured, he curses under his breath and goes back into hiding in itadori's body (he simply cannot be asked to deal with your kind again)

▪︎ "That damn brat... I just need to consume all of the fingers so I can beat the shita outta him"

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jujutsu toji #gojo satoru x male reader #suguru geto x male reader #geto x male reader #gojo x male reader #toji x male reader #sukuna x male reader #nanami x male reader #toji fushiguro x male reader #nanami kento x male reader #sukuna ryomen x male reader #anime

[fushic0re]

─ 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒, 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋

𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗥 𝘅 𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗔!𝗦𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — a prophecy has tied you to the feathered serpent god before you had even existed. now, it’s time to come home.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. possessive behavior. near death experience. smut; penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie (lots of cum bc i'm disgusting), breeding kink.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑❜𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 — this has to be the most excited i've been for a fic in a long time 🥹 i had a blast including a little bit of my culture's superstitions and lore. my sincerest apologies for any inaccurate yucatec maya translations, i used a translator website. the song the reader sings is "daughter of the sea" by sharm. i hope you all enjoy! ♡

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 —

⁀➷ “anak” - child.

⁀➷ “po” - a respectful term with no direct translation used when talking to someone of higher rank than you such as elders or your boss.

⁀➷ “mag ingat ka” - “be careful.”

⁀➷ “ka’a suku’un u?” - “cousin?”

⁀➷ “ko’oten tin wéetel in kaxtik ti’ le ajawo.” - "come with me to find the king."

⁀➷ "in yakunaj" - "my love"

⁀➷ "in k'áaté" - my one and only.

⁀➷ "le ba'alo' leti'e" - that is her.

⁀➷ "bienvenido tin wotoch ti', in reina." - "welcome my queen."

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

FOR AS LONG AS YOU COULD REMEMBER, the ocean was your safe haven.

While others strayed from its depths for fear of the unknown, of the creatures that could be lurking down there, you had always been curious to know. There had always been an itch that couldn’t quite be scratched when it came to your love for the water. You frequented your local beach nearly every day, wandering aimlessly until you grew tired. Unlike others your age, your life was one of solitude. To an extent, you were content with it, for the ocean was your companion. It never judged you and always welcomed you. It listened when you spoke, carrying your worries far from you never to be seen again.

Nowadays, to your heart’s discontent, the ocean was not enough.

You were lonely. Truly lonely and feeling what it was like to be so for the very first time in your life. There were nights you stared into the abyss; eyes watery as you wished to drown in it. To be embraced by the one thing that was consistent in your life. Would you feel less alone then?

─

From the deepest point of the very sea you gazed into, the heart of a God grew heavy. K’uk’ulkan loved his people, adored them with every fiber of his body. Each and every one of the faces of those he ruled, dead and alive, were imprinted in his soul permanently. Every step he took was taken with them in mind. He prided himself for being a good leader, for doing everything and anything possible to keep his nation safe. After the events leading up to the alliance with the Wakandans, however, he did not know if that pride was deserved. He had made mistakes; misplaced his trust and allowed two of his own to die right in their very home. Namora, as loyal as she was, began to question his decisions. He was alone in bearing this burden with no one to rest his head on at night from the heaviness of the day.

What pained him the most? He knew he shouldn’t be alone.

He recalled the day he and his mother had been read the prophecy when he was a child clearly. The emotions he felt upon hearing those words spoken into existence were still fresh. There was someone for him. Just for him, and him alone.

“For His fealty, the First Son of Talokan shall be given a gift from the Gods; a descendant from the Heavens, a child of Bulan with the voice of an enchantress. For as long as He shall live, She shall rule the seas by His side.”

Years passed. Those years slowly faded into decades. After the passing of his beloved mother, it became difficult differentiating when those decades turned into centuries. Still, there were no signs of his soulmate. His people knew of the prophecy. K’uk’ulkan was all too aware of the anticipation his children felt as they eagerly awaited the arrival of their queen. Yet, she never came.

He grew angry at the so called Gods for turning on their promise – at her. Where was she? he’d hiss. My people, our people, have come dangerously close to being discovered. I have nearly died defending them all alone. My wings have been ripped from my flesh. Why isn’t she here? The prophecy meant nothing to him anymore. Just as he was naïve when he entrusted Princess Shuri with seeing his home, he was blindly foolish for believing in a fairytale.

Namor was without love in more ways than one.

─

You didn’t remember falling asleep. There was no explanation as to how you ended up perilously close to the edge of the water, the violent thrash of waves serving as a warning to you. Still, you remained completely still as fear immobilized you. You racked your brain for any recollections of your previous actions. Nothing came up. You couldn’t remember anything after you came home from the market.

Nothing, that is, aside from a single voice.

It cooed to you, whispered your name like it had waited a thousand millennia to taste it upon its tongue. Sang to you like you were its favorite person in the entire universe.

Come to me.

Come home.

In yakunaj.

In k’áate’.

Come home.

Taking a moment to steady your breathing, you slowly stepped away from the ledge before rushing back home. As you tucked yourself into bed that night, you tried your best to bury what had just transpired. You sought out every possibility – rational and irrational – that could have resulted in your odd behavior. You always went to the beach, maybe you just wandered there after dinner out of habit. Perhaps something went wrong with the batch of your usual tea and an ingredient that causes cognitive dysfunction was accidentally added to it. Maybe tomorrow morning you will wake up to a news report about your batch being recalled from all stores.

The explanation you vied for never came.

As time persisted, so did the bouts of blacking out, regaining consciousness, and finding yourself near the ocean. Each time, you got closer and closer to its waters. Every day after the next, you would feel the fatigue in your muscles from all of the walking. And yet, it did not stop you. You always found your way back to the ocean. It didn’t matter if you walked into ongoing traffic or if a concerned neighbor physically restrained you, the pull was stronger. Shamefully, you began to avoid leaving your home altogether. You couldn’t bear to face the condemnatory looks you were bound to receive. Whatever those in your area thought of you, you didn’t want to know. You were afraid enough of what you were becoming.

When you wake up from the next spell, you were waist deep in the ocean. Shivering as your thin nightgown stuck to your skin. Wrapping your arms around your torso, you salvaged any and all body heat. The gravity of your circumstances hit you all at once. Biting your lip, you held back your tears as your turned around and began making your way out of the water hastily. Just as your bare feet touched the white sand, you caught the eyes of the elderly woman who lived closed by. The two of you had never spoken, but her presence as a resident was always acknowledged.

“Sorry, po,” You spoke sheepishly, a polite and apologetic smile on your face.

Her expression was grave as she stared at you wordlessly. Silence stretched between the both of you and just as you were about to walk away, she harshly spat one single word.

“Magindara.”

Before you could seek clarification, she was back inside her small hut, the door slamming behind her acrimoniously. The only proof that the interaction with her was even real was the residual sting of her hostility and rage. Her persecution was the straw to break the camel’s back. Unable to maintain your resolve any longer, you fell to your knees and began to you’re your hands clutching at your chest in hopes to alleviate the pain. Humiliation, terror, anxiousness, and frustration were just a few of the emotions you were feeling. Even then, they were just the tip of the iceberg. As you cried to yourself, sand sticking to your wet limbs uncomfortably, you longed for nothing but someone to wrap you up in their arms – for someone to tell you that for once, everything would be okay. Just this once, you craved a life outside of isolation.

Once your breathing evened out, you stood up and leisurely began to talk along the shore. Soothing yourself in the only way you knew how, you began to softly sing.

“Beware, beware the Daughter of the Sea. ‘Beware’ I heard him cry. His words carried upon the ocean breeze, as he sank beneath the tide.”

Namora watched acutely as the quill in her king’s hands abruptly dropped to the floor. The warrior waited for the moment he would pick it up off of the ground and continue with his painting, but it never came.

“K’uk’ulkan?”

She received no response. His eyes held an indecipherable expression, one far away from the present.

“Ka’a suku’un u?” Namora repeated, her tone now carrying concern.

The King of Talokan turned to her for a split second before he stormed out of the room with speed she had never witnessed from him before. Namora was hot on his feathered heels, but the second she dived into the water, her cousin was nowhere to be seen.

“Attuma!” She bellowed. “Ko’oten tin wéetel in kaxtik ti’ le ajawo.”

K’uk’ulkan was stunned when he first heard it – the most beautiful sound to grace his ears. He was livid with himself for being unable to find a better word to describe the voice, for “beautiful” was such an understatement that it was borderline insulting. Without hesitation, he followed it. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know where it was coming from or who it even belonged to, he needed to find it. It called to him, turned him into a man possessed as he soared through the waters restlessly to get to it.

His head broke the surface, and that’s when he saw its owner – her. His soulmate.

She was the most exquisite living being he had ever laid his eyes upon. A gift from the heavens she was. Her beauty made him dizzy, his knees growing weak as he took in his beloved’s features. He admired her as she outstretched her arms, cupping the moon in her delicate palms. It paled in comparison to her. Everything did. Nothing could possibly compare. He remained paralyzed as she continued to sing, a foreign feeling settling in his stomach.

“Why this? Why this, oh Daughter of the Sea? Why this? Why did you forget your seaside days? Always the pride of our nation’s eyes, how could she go astray?”

The words of her melody pierced his heart. They reflected their journey far too accurately to be a coincidence. Did she know that she had always been destined for him? To be loved by the entire nation of Talokan? His lids fell shut slowly as he basked in her harmonies, feeling tranquil at last.

“I heard, I heard, across the moonlit seas, the old voice warning me. Beware, beware, the Daughter of the Sea. Beware, beware…of me.”

Namor studied her face as her song ended. He noted her red rimmed eyes and wet cheeks. Her damp nightgown stuck to her body tantalizingly. The despair in her hypnotizing voice was palpable. All of the wrath and resentment he had once harbored dissipated. Oh, my love. I have longed for you too. He could do nothing as he watched you turn your back to him from above, only pray for another encounter. He rose entirely from the sea, the wings on his ankles fluttering in the air as he watched her in the sky until she was safe in her abode. A quiet splash could be heard from under him. Attuma and Namora stared up at him expectedly.

“Le ba’alo’ leti’e’.”

He nodded slowly, eyes burning holes in the spot where she once stood.

“A human?” Attuma questioned, his voice rigid.

Namor shook his head.

“’A child of Bulan with the voice of an enchantress’.” Namor quoted the prophecy directly. “Bulan was a deity the heavens sent to the ocean to protect the moon from sea monsters. She is a siren; they are descendants of Bulan.”

“What is she doing on the surface?” Namora chimed in.

The king frowned, his fists clenching at his sides as he longed to feel her touch.

“She is lost.”  

─

Returning to the beach after the unpleasant encounter with the elderly woman who lived on its grounds probably wasn’t the most sensible decision. In your defense, however, nothing in your life was sensible nowadays.

Magindara was what she called you. A whole day’s worth of research, hundreds of Google searches, and several life crises later, you found out what it meant – siren. A subspecies of mermaids that were known for being especially vicious. You wanted to badly to laugh it off, to chuck it up to her being a senile old woman, but that was not an option. To do so would be like ignoring statistics. The facts of your life were laid out clearly; there was a connection between you and the ocean. A connection so strong that it bewitched you – mind, body, and soul. There were no traceable origins you could use to refute the woman’s claims. Afterall, you had no family. There was nothing more to do than return to the very place that could give you answers.

Your eyes darted everywhere in search of the familiar head of silvery locks. Once identified, you ran to her.

“Excuse me, po?” You called desperately, your eyes begging her for something. Anything. “What…what am I?”

She stared at you with a severe expression on her aged features.

“The man from the sea with wings on his ankles. Mag ingat ka, anak. He’s coming for you.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion.

“Could you expla—”

“Do not come back here.” She warned. “He will drag you down with him.”

With that being said, she entered her home and slammed the door in your face for the second time. Vexation filled you as you were met with another dead end. A man from the sea with wings on his ankles. What the hell was that alluding to? Did the elderly have to always speak in riddles? Were you in danger? Why was he after you?

You dragged your feet as you trudged home dejectedly. You were already exhausted, not sleeping a wink once you returned home after your stint last night. Sleep was unfathomable considering you were haunted by unanswered questions. Once you crossed the threshold of your bedroom, however, you could no longer ignore your body’s need for rest. Flopping down on your bed, you shut your eyes and instantaneously succumbed to a peaceful slumber.

That night was the last time you slept in your own bed.

The beach was eerily quiet, void of the usual sound of waves crashing against the shore. Seemingly, the ocean yielded to you, it’s queen, the second you stepped foot in its territory, entranced and guided by a single voice.

Come home. Come to me.

Your feet carried you to a cliff high above the sparkling midnight waters.

My love. My soulmate.

Home. You needed to come home. It was time. 

Come home.

Just a couple of more steps.

Come home.

This is your destiny. Fulfill it. Fulfill the prophecy.

Come home.

With that, you took one final step off the cliff and prepared yourself to plunder into the deep waters. Your feet were only in the air for a brief moment before a pair of strong arms caught you midair. Upon physical contact, you snapped from your trance with a sharp gasp, your heart pounding in your chest as you began to panic.

A deep, gentle voice lulled you. It was then that you finally registered who it belonged to. The being who had saved you was the epitome is beauty. Everything about him exuded regality from the air of confidence and ease he carried himself with, to the adornments on his muscular body. A large gold and jade neck plate took up the most space on his expansive chest. Ropes of auriferous shells and opalescent-like pearls hung around his neck. Gilded cuffs were locked around his biceps, wrists, and ankles. You quickly noted the alabaster wings fluttering away attached to them, the very wings responsible for suspending the both of you in the air. Your eyes trailed to his delicately pointed ears, embellished with jewels just like the rest of him. The only clothing he sported was a pair of emerald shorts that left nothing to the imagination. The walls of muscle that were his thighs were on full display, the muscles of a man built to withstand the brutality of the ocean.

This was the man the elderly woman was speaking about. The man from the sea with feathers on his ankles.

That revelation should have scared you. Every alarm in your body should have gone off.

Escaping him should have been the only thing occupying your mind. You should have kicked and screamed until your throat was raw and bloody.

But you did no such thing.

Instead, it was the way he looked at you, gazing at you with the most intense smolder in his eyes that occupied your attention. He gazed at you with pure wonder, and held you delicately yet fiercely in his arms like you were the most precious thing in the entire world. Instinctively, you placed your hands on his bare chest, mindlessly tracing the dew drops sticking to his golden skin. The beautiful man shivered beneath your touch.

“500 years I have waited for you.” He whispered reverently.

Your mouth opened, prepared for a response that never came. Instead, your vision went dark.

─

You woke up to hushed voices and heedful, diligent hands. One set of hands languidly brushed your hair away from your face. Another daintily shimmied clothing onto your body once they were finished drying you off with the velvetiest cloth to ever touch your skin. The last set secured what you assumed was jewelry onto your wrists, neck, and ears. Upon opening your eyes, your assumption was correct. The dress on your body was stunning, embroidered with hundreds of crystalline beads. The jewels on your wrists alone were probably worth more than what you had made in your entire life.

The women who stood above you were unlike you had ever seen before. Their skin was a brilliant shade of cerulean. Vibrant, yet pleasantly understated. Masks covered their mouths and noses, but you could still see the bright smiles behind them.

“Hello,” You greeted shyly. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Each of them let out a small cry, their eyes welling up with tears as they bowed earnestly.

“Bienvenido tin wotoch ti’, in reina.” They spoke warmly in unison, forming a gesture with their hands at you respectfully. Their mother tongue was foreign to you, but not for long. As if you had spoken it your entire life, your mind made quick work of interpreting it.

Welcome home, my queen.

Once again, you were puzzled. You had no idea where you were or who exactly that man was and why he had taken you here. You obviously hadn’t a single inkling as to what he meant by “500 years I have waited for you”. Now, these women were calling you their queen in a language you had never heard your entire life but somehow had the ability to understand perfectly.

The sound of feet pattering lightly gradually got closer and closer until the man of the hour stood before you at the foot of the bed. The women attending to you immediately turned their attention to him, bowing and forming the same hand gesture you had seen moments ago. He looked just as regal still, now adorned in a cape tucked into golden plates of armor on his shoulders. He regarded them gratefully.

“Leave us, my children. Thank you.”

They bowed to you both once more before swiftly making themselves haste. You now had his undivided attention.

“I hope you slept well. The healers said showed signs of exhaustion.”

“I—” You cleared your throat nervously. “I did, thank you.”

The barest hint of a smile graced his features. With graceful and controlled movements, he poured water into a glass and handed it to you.

“Do not be nervous.” He spoke lowly. “Speak freely.”

“Thank you.” You squeaked out again, taking a generous gulp of water before speaking again. “Where am I? Who are you?”

“My people call me K’uk’ulkan. To my enemies, I am Namor. You are in our kingdom – Talokan.”

The water got caught in your throat mid swallow, causing you to cough obnoxiously. The man who you now knew as K’uk’ulkan, discreetly smiled to himself as if this was a reaction he had anticipated. Before you could blurt out another string of questions, he held his hand out to you.

“Come. I will remedy all of your concerns.”

As if you had done so a million times, you placed your hand in his and stood by his side. Namor lead the both of you through a series of corridors. Your eyes took in your surroundings with pure astonishment. Cavern seemed to be a secluded corner for the king, crystal waters surrounding its premises. Bits of glittery minerals were embedded into the sediment walls. An air of serenity blanketed the entire area.

From the corner of his eye, Namor gaged your reactions, his heart so full of unfiltered adoration that it felt like it would explode in his chest. His hand was still tightly clutched in yours like it was second nature. Subconsciously, you had drawn your body closer to his. He was a meticulous man of control and strategy, but at that very moment, K’uk’ulkan wanted nothing more than to take you into his arms and kiss you breathlessly. The moment was cut short when you reached his study. He offered you a seat at his desk, drawing the door shut behind him for privacy. It didn’t take long for you to deduce that the murals painted on the walls were ones depicting the history of Talokan.

“Centuries ago, my people took an herb that allowed them to survive underwater. The herb was infused with vibranium. We are the only nation aside from Wakanda to possess it.” He began, his hands tracing over a painting of a beautiful woman cradling an infant. “My mother was pregnant with me when she ingested it. That is why I am the way I am – why I am the only one out of my people that can survive on both land and underwater, fly, and age slower than the rest. For this, they made me their king. Their god.”

You listened intently, fascinated by the discovery that they had remained a secret for this long.

“There was a prophecy made shortly after my birth. The gods promised me a soulmate.”

Turning around to face you, he bore his soul to yours through his eyes as he read the prophecy to you. With each word that fell from his lips, the world around you spun quicker and quicker. It made sense. It all made sense.

“I gave up on the idea of the prophecy coming true as time passed. In yakunaj, when you have lived as long as I have, seen as much as I have, happy endings are nothing but meaningless fallacies. But then, that night came…the night I heard you sing for the first time.”

He approached you slowly, cautiously like a wild animal that would take flight if startled by any sudden movements. What happened next made your eyes fill with tears; he knelt before you. This man – a king, a god – surrendered to you with no hesitation.

“I have finally found you…” He breathed, his orbs shining with devotion. “You are home. Why do you think you have no family? No one to trace your roots back to? You were made for me. Mine.”

Your face fell in between the palms of your hands as you wept. Quickly, your hands were replaced by his. He held your face in his hands like he was holding the entire world, the pads of his thumbs gently brushing away your tears.

“Why the tears, my love?”

You shook your head, placing your hands on top of his. The spark you felt every time the two of you touched could no longer be ignored.

“Why did they just now bring us together?” You cried. “We’ve both been alone for all this time, how could they not do something about it!”

“Shhh,” Namor cooed. “You think I have not been angry with them, my sweet? I have held myself back from tearing their skies and oceans apart just to find you. But what I feel for you right now in this very moment? That feeling will always win.”

The both of you said nothing more, for there was nothing that needed to be said. Your long lost love held you in his arms as you liberated yourself from what felt like decades of anguish. His grip never faltered even as you gripped his flesh hard enough to draw blood. Instead, he soothingly rocked you as he recounted the stories of his people’s origins. Talokan was a clandestine national treasure, one of the only things on the earth that had not been bastardized. That was all the doing of this wonderful being who had been promised to you.

“They were wrong about you. Your name.” You whispered. “You’re not without love, quite the opposite actually. The actions you have taken, the lengths you have gone to protect your people and your home, are ones of a man consumed with nothing but love. You can see it in how happy they are.”

With cautious hands, you caressed his cheeks. He preened against your touch, melting right into your palms. The world would never see the stoic warrior king falter, but already, you had him firmly wound around your finger. He could sit there for hours soaking in your ardor.

“Our home. Our people.” Namor corrected. “They can’t wait to meet you.”

Lovingly, he pressed his forehead to yours, nudging the tip of your nose with his.

“Are you ready to meet them?”

He observed endearingly as your eyes widened as large as flying saucers as you nodded overzealously, a giggle tumbling from your lips. K’uk’ulkan noted once more how full of love he felt. He wondered if this was what your lives together would consist of, overcome with all of the possibilities. Was adoring you more than he did in this moment even conceivable? When your smile faltered slightly, worry filled him.

“I’ve never seen…myself.”

“I am honored to be the first to see your true form.”

The two of you stood, walking hand in hand out of his personal study and to the outermost cove surrounded with the most water. Inhaling shakily, you eyed what awaited below you with apprehension. You were not human, far from it, and yet it felt as if you and your true form were worlds apart. Namor was silent. He knew this was something you needed to do alone. The only form of assurance offered to you was a look of encouragement.

Slowly, you dipped one foot into the water and allowed the other to follow. Keeping your eyes closed, you focused on your heart rate as your body adroitly descended into the abyss of the sea. You could have easily fallen asleep if it weren’t for a tingly sensation disrupting your peace. It started small, gradually winding around you until all at once, currents of electricity bolted through your limbs. Instinctively, your lungs expanded, and you took your first gulp of air underwater. You ripped your eyes open in bewilderment when you didn’t choke on water. The clear-cut view you had of your surroundings despite no sources of light being near further consolidated your shock. A noise akin to a squeak and gasp escaped your lips and before you knew it, you were cutting through the waters with newfound ease until your head broke the surface.

Namor would have given everything to his name to capture the sight before him. There you were, beaming at him with unrivaled radiance. He stopped breathing when you lifted your tail out of the water. Just when he thought you could not be any more magnificent than you already were, you defied his expectations. The scales covering the muscle were a range of shades of lapis lazuli, emerald, and gold. Towards the tips of your forked fin, they all blended into a rich shade of dark indigo. Your torso was bare but hidden behind your locks as they cascaded over your breasts. Namor could have gawked at you for hours if it weren’t for you playfully flicking water at his face. He felt light and dream-like as your melodious laughter echoed through the cavern. He decided then and there that your laughter was his favorite song. The scowl permanently etched onto his face fell. In its place, a smile so wide it hurt spawned. For the first time in centuries, he laughed so hard his abdomen hurt.

Powerless to his desires, he dove into the water after you, finding shelter in your embrace once more. Intuitively, your tail curled around one of his legs. He submerged the two of you back into the water and before you knew it, his lips were pressed against yours. Skin to skin, naked chests were tightly pressed against each other, your arms locked around his neck as your mouths feverishly meshed against one another. A barely audible moan slipped from your mouth right into his as his tongue pushed passed your lips. Namor voiced his pleasure with a low rumble from his chest. Pathetically, you could cry again right then and there. How could you have gone without this your whole life?

A loud clearing of the throat caused you both to cease your ministrations. Namor was anything but sorry as he pulled away with the softest expression you had seen on his face thus far. He regarded the two individuals standing in front of you – a hulking man with long inky tresses and an ornate headpiece resembling the skull of a hammerhead shark and a fierce looking woman with a feathered lionfish-esque headdress. Though both clearly high up in the royal ranks with a cutthroat reputation to uphold, they studied you and Namor with mischief.

“K’uk’alkan, they are waiting for her.” The man spoke.

“You might want to put this on before you go.” Spoke the woman, pulling an opulent bra top from behind her back and extending it towards you.

The state of undress you were in hit you like a bus. Your face felt like it was on fire from embarrassment, your lover pressing a tender kiss to your heated cheek. Tactfully, he maneuvered you away from the eyes of the warrior you now knew was Attuma. The woman, his cousin and second in command named Namora, expertly laced you into the garment.

“That was so embarrassing,” You mumbled to yourself once your modesty was secured.

Namor cracked a hint of a smirk.

“Attuma and my cousin expected nothing less from us. Now, shall we?”

─

Talokan was a magnificent sight. The agriculture was impressive, the vibranium rich soil working wonders for the crops. Sea creatures from colossal sized sea turtles, lengthy luminescent jellyfish of different colors, lively fish, and enormous whales to start were one with the Talokanil, peacefully existing with one another. The treatment you received from everyone was something you would never get used to. Despite not knowing you, they acknowledged you as if they had known you their entire lives. K reina perdida they called you with earnest smiles and misty eyes. Our lost queen.

But you were no longer lost.

It was evident in the way the orcas sang with you as you glided through the waters, seemingly understanding you in a way no one else could. Namor’s soul was finally content after seeing you swim freely, laughing so hard your stomach hurt as a couple of toddlers crawled around on your tail. His people loved you. Just as he thought they would. And you fit right in just as you were meant to. With further exploration of your physiology, the two of you discovered that like Namor, you could survive both underwater and on the surface, donning a set of legs seamlessly upon contact with land. Your strength, speed, and agility matched up perfectly with his. For hours, he chased you through the ocean, the both of you weaving in and out between walls of coral and tall beds of seaweed with dexterity. You truly were made for him.

A week later, you were officially crowned their queen. You and Namor ended the celebration with an intimate wedding ceremony in the cavern. After years of going without each other, neither of you had the patience to wait for a union on a grander scale. You both were enough – you would always be enough. And as he laid your bare body across the bed he occupied by himself for half a millennium, he was confident in that conviction.

You felt dizzy as he pressed his hard bulge against your core. The most heavenly noise to grace your ears came out of your now husband when you raised your hips to grind against it. Your hands liberally roamed his chest, now stripped of his jewels, before slithering to his robust back. Your nails drew tiny half moons as they dug into his flesh when his lips made their way to the column of your neck. The decorum of countenance he upheld was nowhere to be found as he ravaged your breasts with his mouth, lightly tugging your erect nipple between his teeth before he began to suckle. You cried out pathetically. His lips twitched, umber orbs now staring up at you with lust.

“You are so noisy for me,” He purred. “I have not even touched the most sensitive parts of your body yet.”

“Please,” You breathed. “Please, I need you,”

Namor made his way down your body, leaving no part of you untouched by his lips. Deftly, he gripped your thighs and place both of your legs over his shoulders. Gently, he kissed your dripping core.

“You have me, my love. Always.” 

His mouth took you straight to heaven. He devoured you like a man starved, tongue flicking your nub of nerves tirelessly with precision. Your thighs were already trembling, but he had just gotten started. Your orgasm crept up on you, the strongest one you had ever experienced. It left you heaving with your back arched off of the bed, unable to do anything besides chant his name like a mantra. But your beloved’s ministrations did not cease. He continued working at your core, now swollen and glistening from your juices and his spit. The second orgasm built up slowly, the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter with each time he sucked your clit. The final straw was when you noticed his hips gyrating. He was pleasuring himself while pleasuring you. This time when you came on your lover’s tongue, no words or sounds were able to slip passed your mouth. You were quite literally speechless.

With a satisfied moan, he lapped up the rest of your arousal, cooing to you as you quivered and whimpered from hypersensitivity. His scorching body covered yours once more, his lips familiarizing themselves with yours. Namor held you tightly against him, whispering sweet nothings against your lips as you steadied your breathing. It wasn’t long before you felt the head of his cock prodding your entrance. Gripping your face firmly, he forced your eyes open. The frenzied look in his eyes as he languidly sunk into you alone could have made you come for the third time that night. But alas, the universe was on your side. Instead, you savored that moment – the feeling of him. Every inch, every vein, ingrained into your memories for as long as you shall live.

“You feel incredible.” Namor panted, now beginning to steadily thrust. “You truly were made for me.”

You could only respond with wanton cries, too consumed with desire. The king began to piston in and out of you until he was fully pounding you into your marital bed.

“Namor!”

He grunted into your ear, pulling out of you for a brief moment to flip you onto your stomach. He plunged back into you and picked up right where he left off. This time, however, he was brutal with the punctuality of his thrusts.

“Am I your enemy, wife?” He taunted. “Are you even worthy of any mercy I have to spare?”

At this point, you could not even recognize the sounds you were making. They were debauched. Depraved. Combined with rhythmic percussion of skin against skin and the squelch of your wet cunt each time Namor entered you, the song you two orchestrated was one only for the lecherous.

“K’uk’ulkan,” You barely managed to murmur. “I’m s-so close, you make me feel so good,”

He hummed satisfactorily, driving into you even faster.

“You are, aren’t you, my sweet? That’s it, sing for me. Take my seed. Carry my children.”

“Please!” You screamed as your walls convulsed around his cock. Please come in me,”

With a shout and one final thrust, he released in you. Rope after rope, he filled you with his cum with proclamations of everlasting love on the tip of his tongue. His cock remained nestled deep within you as you both descended from your highs, keeping his spent from spilling. He shuddered at the image of you round and radiant carrying his child and just like that, he was hardening inside you once more. As you lay there, thoroughly cock drunk, he began to pull out of you and slowly push back in. This time, he was tender and gentle, unhurriedly focused on taking you apart for one final time that night. The two of you had centuries left together. There was no need to rush. Then again, Namor could live another 500 years with you by his side and still feel like it was not enough. He needed you forever, and then some.

“I love you,” He whispered against the blade of your shoulder. “You are everything.”

The next morning you would wake to the sight of your husband painting a new mural. One of a beautiful woman with the upper body of a human, and the lower body of a fish. By her side, a man with ears that pointed to the skies and wings on his ankles, their eyes locked and hands intertwined.

The beginning of your story.

#namor x reader #namor x you #namor x y/n #namor x poc!reader #namor x filipina!reader #namor the sub mariner #namor fanfiction #k'uk'ulkan #k'uk'ulkan x reader #tenoch huerta #tenoch huerta x reader #tenoch huerta smut #tenoch huerta mejia

[tossawary]

A weirdly formative movie for me was "The Slipper and the Rose" (1976), which is a live-action movie adaptation of the Cinderella fairy tale set in some made-up European country. It is also a musical. I think it's fun and funny and sometimes quite sweet and I really like it as a comfort movie. It's kind of long and a little slow and old-fashioned and silly, and the ending is a little flat, but there are several songs that are just... about various logistical and humorous realities of being royalty... and I thought that was just fascinating as a young teenager who liked historical fantasy fiction.

(I excitedly tried to show it to a friend once and she was like, "WHAT am I watching?" She was bored during the dance sequences. It's quite different to the "(Rodgers and Hammerstein's) Cinderella" movie from 1997 starring Brandy. They're entirely different Cinderella musicals.)

The king and queen (and the dowager queen and the prince's cousin who will inherit if he doesn't marry) have a song sung to the prince called: "What Has Love Got To Do With Getting Married?"

The prince has a companion-at-arms (servant) named John and they have a really funny song together in the royal family's mausoleum, where the prince is like, "No matter what I do, I'm just going to end up buried next to these kings. Let me tell you all about how much they sucked as people." (It's called "What A Comforting Thing To Know" and it's probably my favorite song.)

The king and his ministers have a song all about the protocol for throwing a ball ("Protocoliogorically Correct"), because they don't want to offend anyone and accidentally start a war (again).

The prince's servant, John, is in love with Lady Caroline, who is the lady-in-waiting / companion to the dowager queen, but they can't get married because they're apparently too far apart in status. After the ball, when the prince is failing to find Cinderella, there's an entire song ("Position And Positioning") where John, the castle servants, and guards and civilians explain to the prince that there are ranks among servants and servants aren't as free to marry for love as the prince thinks they are. They even take the prince into the kitchens and are like, "Here are a bunch of other servants that you never see and barely knew existed, dude. They're going to do an extended dance number about this."

There are other musical numbers in this movie, including the romantic ("He/She Danced With Me") and heartbreaking ("Tell Him Anything") songs you would expect from a Cinderella story, but I mostly remember the humorous songs that actually engaged with the worldbuilding. I hadn't really seen a "fairy tale" movie do that before to that degree. (I'd seen books adapting fairy tales do it many times, but they don't have musical numbers.)

I think both "What A Comforting Thing To Know" and "Position And Positioning" are both worth watching by themselves, just for how unique they are among the many different Cinderella adaptations, and the movie clips are easy to find online. Go look them up if any of this sounds neat to you!

#tossawary watching #tossawary musicals #the slipper and the rose #cinderella

[kvtie444]

⋆‧₊˚ TEACHERS PET

A/N: ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER 18!! gonna try make this a series lol p.s. I love covet sm lolziezzzzzzzz

Summary: Reader has a new teacher and finds herself falling for him blahblahblah teachers pet by melanie vibes xoxo

Warnings: swearing, mentions of nsfw content, that’s it??

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

If you're fortunate enough to own a car, count your blessings. Given the means, I would have purchased one long ago, but the weight of tuition fees compels me to endure a daily mile-long walk in the unforgiving cold almost every day. Oddly enough, the journey to campus carries its qualities - passing through a park, surrounded by pleasant scenery, with my favourite playlist playing through my headphones, it becomes an almost comforting routine - except on days like today, where I’m running late.

Choosing sociology ranks among the biggest mistakes in my life, closely followed by my track record with every guy I've been involved with. It seems every guy my age is solely fixated on getting their dick sucked and seeking validation from their male peers.

Entering my building, I head straight to class, mentally preparing myself for boredom. Amongst my whole class, I've only really gotten close with one person in my class - Madi. She's friendly, and her accom building is conveniently across mine, making her my go-to companion here. Reaching my relatively small class, I push the door open, taking my seat beside Madi. Placing my bag on the desk. I unpack my belongings, removing my headphones and setting them on the table. "Look who's finally arrived," Madi teases with a smile. Glancing at her and then towards the front of the room, I notice the absence of the teacher. Did I really beat him here? "Where's Mr. Kennedy?" I ask, confusion etched on my face. Her expression falters. "Didn't you hear?" she begins. I shake my head no. "He got caught having an affair with a student," she whispers. My jaw drops. "So, who's filling in for him?" I ask. She simply shrugs.

Engaging in small talk whilst I log onto my laptop, her attention shifts to the door as our new teacher arrives, a solid 12 minutes late. I keep my eyes glued to my screen as I overhear him grabbing items from his desk. I momentarily look away and I almost moan when I see him. Brown hair, blue eyes, a slight beard, a chain sitting on top of his black sweatshirt, and plain black pants - he doesn't look a day older than 30. Picking up a marker from his desk and delicately fiddling with the lid, he looks up to face the class.

"Mr. Kennedy is unable to continue teaching you guys, so I'll be filling in for him," he announces, turning around to write his name on the board alongside the topic where we left off. "My name is Mr. Sturniolo, or just Matthew if you can't pronounce it," he half-jokes, a small chuckle escaping from his pink lips. Madi leans toward me, whispering in my ear, "smash." I can't help but chuckle, nudging her with my shoulder. When Matt turns around, his eyes dart into mine, shooting me a disciplinary look. I purse my lips, attempting to contain my smile, and look down, mouthing a small "sorry." He returns to his desk, flicks open his textbook, lands on a page, and then speaks up, "Everyone, go to page 56. We're going to start off where you were all left off with class differences in achievement”.

Throughout the lesson, he does an impressive job at teaching. He even sets up a Google Classroom for all his work and provides a platform for questions if we're confused—something Kennedy could never manage. Matt sends me a few glances, and each time, my face grows hot, causing me to look away first and break the eye contact. Eventually, the lesson concludes, and everyone quickly packs up, ready to leave.

"Alright, everyone, I want you all to finish off the chapter, make notes, and I'm going to upload a short essay question for you to fill out too. I want it done for tomorrow's lesson," he says, people beginning to exit the room, with me and Madi following suit. As I walk out the door, I glance back at him, and our eyes meet. He shoots me a smile, which I quickly return before looking and walking out of the room.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

I let out a frustrated groan, slouching back in my chair and running my hands down my face. I find myself back in my dorm, attempting to tackle this essay, but I’m stuck on my counterargument. I glance at my open laptop, its glow being the only source of light in my room as I anxiously tap my pen against my desk. Why am I so hesitant to ask my teacher for help? Y/n, don't bother him; it's 11 pm. fuck it.

Summoning a bit of courage, I lean forward and compose a message for him, meant for our eyes only. "Hello Mr. Sturniolo, I was wondering how to counterargue in the essay you assigned. Best regards, Y/n." No, no, no. I delete the message and retype, reminding myself that I'm not messaging fucking royalty. The new message reads, "Hi Matt, I'm a bit unsure of how to counterargue in the essay. Thanks, Y/n." I bite my lip before hitting send and then pick up my pen, drumming it against my desk again. I can't help but keep checking if he replies. It's only been two minutes. I mean, it's late. I keep my eyes glued to my screen eagerly until I see my 'delivered' message switch to 'read.' My breath hitches as my left leg shakes, my heel tapping the ground in quick patterns as I see three typing dots.

"Hey Y/n, don't worry about it. Try using the functionalist perspective and theorists like Parsons. I'll send you the page now. Matt." I smile at the message and feel like a cheesy teenage girl, my breath hitching when he sends an image. It's a page from the textbook which he is holding down with his left hand. shit. His large hand looked veiny, and his fingers took up so much space. He had rings on his fingers, excluding his ring and middle finger, making me bite my lip, almost prompting a moan at the idea. No, Y/n, he's your teacher. My eyes moved up his arm to catch a glimpse of the tattoos that were previously hidden under his sweatshirt. I wasn't even focusing on my work anymore. I snap out of my daze and type a little message, hoping to keep the conversation going. "Thank you !!" I send, now biting the end of my pen, smiling to myself. He's quick to start typing back, "Don't worry about it." I stare at the message until my breath hitches once I see him typing again. "Next time, try not to leave my work for the last minute." I softly giggle to myself, looking down at my hands.

I finally get the work done, submitting it online. I climb into bed and scroll through my phone until I fall asleep, feeling a sense of anticipation and excitement about seeing Matt again tomorrow.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Back in class again, I find myself barely able to focus on anything - well, it wasn't even work. Matt had put on some documentary, but my attention was solely fixed on him. What's wrong with me? He's just a good-looking guy, Y/n. A really, really good-looking guy.

"Y/n?" I'm snapped out of my trance by Madi. I look up at her; she's standing up, bag on her shoulder. "Lesson's over. Wanna meet and get some food later?"

I nod, "Yeah, text me," I reply, smiling as I get up and put my headphones back on, playing my music. I walk towards the door until I feel a hand on my arm, turning me around. Confused, I look up, and my confusion softens, feeling my face heat up upon seeing it's Matt. I pull my headphones down around my neck as he smiles at me.

"I was calling your name a few times, but your music's too loud," he chuckles. I giggle back at him, feeling flustered. His eyebrows furrow, and a smirk grows on his face. "Is that 'Covet'? Basement?" he continues, referring to the song from my headphones. I look down at my headphones before looking back up at him, smiling, nodding my head, "Yeah,". This man could not get any more perfect. He bites his lip slightly before leaning against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Am I in trouble?" I ask, my brows knitting together in worry. "Hm? Oh, no, no," he shakes his head. "Just have to hold you behind a bit and ask you something," he continues.

Shit.

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #imagine #angst #chris sturniolo x reader #fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #smut #SoundCloud

[thursdaygxrls]

Enemies to lovers & enemies with benefit, remus x reader pls? They both are academic rivals and one day things got heated and they have angry sex then after that everytime they would argue in ends up in them having sex? Maybe add in a jealous remus hehe

i absolutely loved this request!! tried my best (i haven't written smut in a while, sorry if it's trash). might need to do a part two to add the jealous remus in :)) also, i'm trying out a new intro set up because i'm tired of the old one

how to hate a boy

pairing remus lupin x reader

warnings mdni!! smut, lotta smut, fingering, p in v (protected), general hatred, really bad editing (i didn't edit tehe)

Remus Lupin was always a crude, scruffy boy. Ever since she’d met him, he’d been nothing but trouble. It started with the pranks. Remus Lupin and his moronic Gryffindor companions had become notorious for their practical jokes within the first few years of Hogwarts. It was nothing necessarily harmful: enchanting quills to scribble on sleeping students' faces or swapping out pumpkin juice for polyjuice potion. They were always annoying, but never intrusive to her specifically. Until the end of fourth year.

She prided herself on being one of the brightest witches of her age, receiving praise from McGonnagle and Slughorn themselves. It was only natural to assume she'd ranked somewhere in the top five in each year's final exams. There was an ease to her step when she walked to the board outside the square where each fourth year's marks had been posted. Though there was a crowd of both horrified and excited children, she pushed through to look at the list. Her eyes moved to the top immediately, gently combing through the list until...

In that moment, she died.

She found her name next to an emboldened number six, and the name above? Lupin, Remus John. Her mouth was dry in an instant, all the moisture having been sucked from her tongue to her eyes. As if the colossal failure along with its physical repercussions wasn't enough, Sirius Black, one of said moronic Gryffindors, had popped up next to her for a look at the board.

"Would you look at that, Moons!" His ecstatic tone sent a wave of bile up her throat, "You're in the top five!"

"Piss off." She heard his gruff voice respond.

"I'm serious! You're up here!"

That was about all she could take. She pushed through the crowd, ignoring the hisses of annoyance and the calls of 'what the hell's her problem?' Hot, salty tears filled her eyes as she stomped from the square. Something like this would never happen again, she would make sure of it.

Thus, the rivalry was born.

Remus never truly knew how he'd suddenly gained an enemy the next year. He didn't know her well - she was just a girl in his year, not one he'd ever talked to or singled out. Yet, there was a newfound aggression she held towards him that unleashed itself within the classroom. If he began to raise his hand to answer a question, hers would shoot up with no hesitation before his fingers were as high as his head. He thought she was just eager and he was just slow until it happened in every class they had together for two weeks.

Then, in the library, she would casually pluck the books he would reach for. It was a nuisance, truly, and more than that, he received an A on a paper he could've received an O on if he'd just had the books he needed. It was then he accepted that this was not a random occurrence, this girl truly had some sort of vendetta against him, and he needed to retaliate. Returning to his dorm after collecting his graded paper, he immediately sought to design a prank to put an end to this one-sided war. However, within minutes of planning it, an idea occurred to him: maybe he'd started it all, or Sirius, or James, or Peter. Perhaps she'd been fodder in one of their pranks, and in turn was the one getting her revenge.

Remus was not an unreasonable man. Unlike Sirius (who would've pulled something far worse than a practical joke on her), he could deal with this situation with something much less drastic: a conversation.

He found her the next day tucked away in the library. She was at a table near the back where there were more cobwebs than books. He approached her with the same caution someone might lend to a venomous snake or feral cat. Slow, steady steps led him to her chair, where he introduced his presence with an awkward cough.

"Hi," he spoke, tone unwavering. She, whose eyes had been gliding along the pages of a book, looked up at him with an uninterested gaze. He stood still for a moment before letting out a sigh.

"I'm sorry, alright?" He huffed, though he wasn't sure what his was sorry for.

"Sorry?" She raised a brow in what seemed to be genuine intrigue.

"Yeah, y'know," he gently scraped the edge of his boot against the table leg, "For whatever I did. Or we did. Whatever bit of fun we had that's got you so miffed with me."

All at once, her quirked brow and sense of interest dissipated, replaced by a hard scowl. Quickly, she began packing away her belongings, not caring to spare him a glance.

"What?" There was a sense of annoyance in her voice, "I was apologizing."

"Mhm," she hummed, zipping her bag. Before she left, she met his eyes with a piercing gaze, "I heard about that A you got, Lupin. Try a little harder next time, will you?" With that, she left the library and a partly-dumbfounded, partly-pissed Remus.

His initial reaction was to fight fire with fire: if she wanted to be a prick, he'd show her how low he could get. He stomped through the castle, steam blowing from his ears. His face was twisted into one of rage when he slammed his dorm door shut, immediately alerting his roommates.

"'Bloody hell's wrong with you?" Sirius immediately perked up from the upside-down position he had on his bed. Remus, more than ready to respond, opened his mouth only to find that no words would come out.

I heard about that A you got, Lupin. Try a little harder next time, will you?

That remark, her book sabotage, the amount of times she'd overshadowed him in class. This hatred towards him was personal, and it had to do something with his marks. He had been doing quite well recently, especially with coming up in the top five of last year's final exams. A wicked smile crossed his lips as he slowly slid his bag from his shoulders.

"Nothin'," Remus shook his head, walking to his desk, "Nothin's wrong at all."

"That was concerning, that face you made – did anyone else see that? James?" Sirius glanced around the room to see James far too invested with his Walkman and Frank and Peter half asleep in their beds.

"Trust me, Pads, I'm perfect," he shot Sirius a grin.

Next week, there a new paper was assigned in Defense Against the Dark Arts, a class he and his new sworn enemy shared. Instead of visiting the library in the afternoon as he always had, he would go during early mornings. Yawning, he fought the urge to resume his slumber on his table as he scribbled down notes upon notes of research. He got quicker, too, learning to raise his hand faster than she could ever dream of. Sure, sometimes he didn't know the answer to the question being asked, but he was quicker than her, and that's all that mattered.

A month later, when the DADA essays were now graded and redistributed to the students, he found a large red O at the top left of his paper. A wild, toothy smile adorned his lips as he looked down at the letter. The class had ended, but most of the students were there, pouring over the grades they'd received. Remus eyed the room for a moment before finding her at a table a few seats behind him. He stood, leaving Sirius, his desk partner, to tap his nails against his paper marked with the words 'See me after class!'

Remus was stealthy, making his way to her with the slow, collected steps he'd used before. Only this time there was no caution: he was decisive, cool. He sneaked a look at her paper, catching a glimpse of a red E. Looking back to her face, he noticed the gentle, pretty smile spread on her lips, but quickly shook his head.

"Nice work," he hummed, asserting himself. She looked to him with that same uninterested gaze he'd seen before. At that, his smirk grew tenfold.

"Maybe try harder next time, though, yeah?" He held up his paper. She couldn't even try to hide the shock, her jaw falling immediately to reflect to O on his paper. Without a word, he turned and slid out of the classroom.

Though it seemed like a done deal, this rivalry carried on for years. It went from a silent challenge to an increasingly public feud, which included spats in the Great Hall and fiercely whispered arguments in the library. It only worsened when they each became Prefects: their new privileges allowed even more room for one-upping. At some point, all of Hogwarts either knew of or had experienced their shared wrath. Opinions on the quarrel varied.

"She's fit," Sirius had said one afternoon in sixth year, "Nice bum. Maybe a good snog would set you both straight."

"Have you ever talked to her?" Lily Evans asked during a study session with Remus, "Try reasoning?"

"Fight the power!" James screamed, half drunk, half high at a party.

By seventh year, it seemed as though there was nothing that could be done. They hated each other, and that was that.

It was late November when Remus had Prefect rounds. Frost covered the edges of the windows he passed, and he wondered if it was he or the snow outside that had caused it. It was pure chance that drove him towards the library. He just wanted to stop there for a moment of silence before returning to his dorm. Of course, he had his silence in the empty hallways, but he chose to ignore that in favor of inhaling the scent of old books.

He entered the library, walking through a few shelves and mindlessly trailing his thumb along book spines. It was dark, but his wand provided a good bit of light to see ahead of him. He turned to leave when a noise pricked his ears: a loud thud in the back of the library.

Remus was on high alert as he rushed back to where the sound had come from. It was likely nothing more than a few first years sneaking out or a couple trying to get in a late night snog, but he still held his wand at the ready. What he did not expect to see upon turning the corner was his mortal enemy crouched over fallen books.

"What the hell are y'doing?" He spoke, his voice not nearly as quiet as he'd hoped. Her head shot up immediately before bowing with a hiss due to the light of his wand.

"Get that bloody light out of my face, you ass," she huffed, setting the books back down on the table. It was as though she was fully set up for a study session: books, parchment, quills, and the warm glow of a candle. He studied the scene with furrowed brows.

"You shouldn't be in the library, it's past curfew," he said in a sharp tone. Another look at the girl led him to (hesitantly) soften up his gaze. Under the white light of his wand, he could clearly see the marks of exhaustion left on her face, the very ones he saw in himself at the mirror. He settled himself in the space between her table and an empty one behind him.

"Past hours? Really now?" She shot back in a sarcastic tone. Remus huffed.

"You should be sleeping," he grumbled out.

"And you should be up?" She rolled her eyes, "Go on, leave me alone. I have work to do."

"What kind of git stays up late to work?" He said, ignoring that fact that he was absolutely that kind of git, "Get to bed."

The words didn't seem to pierce her, as she turned back to her book, unaffected. He stared down at her seated form, unsure of what to do. A cough (disguised as a groan) left him, and he decided to push a bit more. He leaned towards the table to pick up a book.

"What are you even–”

"Stop," she snapped. In a flash she stood and swiped the book from his hands. They were both on their feet now, their feet within centimeters of each other.

"You should sleep," he repeated with a clenched jaw.

"And what do you care?" She griped.

"You're a student out past hours, and I'm a Prefect," he said in a tight voice.

"Prefect? I'm a Prefect, you dunce," she scoffed, waving her hand in an irritated manner, "Just shut it and-"

"Don't tell me to shut it." The interruption was accompanied by a grip on her wrist. The sudden physical contact was a surprise to both of them. Even more surprising was the fact that she hadn't yet snagged her hand back.

"There would be no need to tell you to shut it if you didn't keep your ugly mouth closed," she hissed, her tone far louder than what was considered appropriate for a library. The silence was thick between them. His fingers burned her skin from the heat he radiated.

Remus didn't know what it was that made him do it. Sleep deprivation, frustration, rage, bashful horniness from the way he was yelled at. Whatever it may be, he unclasped her wrist only to capture her jaw and smash his lips to hers in an angry kiss. It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't gentle, and he nearly pulled away when he realized what he'd done only to feel her hands grip his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

It was unabashedly ugly the way they kissed. Open mouths and gnashing teeth, more wrath and bite than the result of a tender love love confession. Remus had entirely forgotten there was a table behind him until her hands met his chest and pushed him back, knocking him onto the solid wood surface.

He was taller, but in this moment, she was above him, biting his lower lip and pulling his hair with total disregard to how it may hurt him. This action ripped a deep groan from his throat as wave of sweet pain washed over his scalp. His sudden vocalization sent her flying back with wide eyes.

"What are we doing?" She said through heavy breaths.

"You wanna stop?" He spoke, equally breathless. Her immediate reaction was to say 'no,' which scared her into stunned silence. Remus took this lapse to quickly stand to his full height and push her back towards her table. His lips were back on hers as he carelessly slid her belongings to the ground. He had just enough clarity to move the candle with a bit more diligence, setting it down on the table in front of hers.

Finding herself trapped snuggly between Remus and the wood, she hopped up to sit on the table. This new position seemed to suit Remus as well, seeing as he slotted himself directly between her open legs. His lips descended from her mouth to her jaw. He lost himself in her gasps as he nipped and sucked at her skin, though, he wasn't lost enough to ignore the way her hips jolted into his when sunk his teeth into the junction where her jaw met her neck.

His hands slid further down, testing the boundaries below the waist. His callused fingers pulled up the edge of her sweater to find the band of her jeans. Despite the way he was hungrily eating away at her flesh, his hands were hit a stagnant pace.

"God, you're always so slow," she growled, smacking his hands out of the way to undo the button of her jeans. She expected some sort of quip in return, maybe even a harsh bite on her neck, but there was nothing. Remus was silent except for his breathing, yet, his eyes shown a different story. The candlelight reflecting against his pupils created tiny fires encased by a ring of hazel. He removed his lips but not his body, keeping her pressed to the table as his licked the fingers of his right hand. He shoved past her loosened jeans and panties to find her pussy, already a bit wet. She gasped, but he quickly used his other hand to clamp her mouth shut.

“Slow enough for you?” He whispered against the shell of her ear as one finger lightly dipped past her entrance. He was achingly slow yet deliberate, pushing his finger in before letting it recede. She moaned into his palm against her will at the pace. Her hands moved to grab his wrist, but somehow, he was quicker. He moved from her mouth to clasp her hands and slam them down on the table behind her, causing her to slide backwards and him to gain more control on top of her.

“Oh, too slow?” He asked in mocking tone. In an instant, his fingers had gone from feather-light strokes to quick pumps, fucking her entrance without any of the gentleness he’d given before. The sudden speed with which he'd changed his pace caused his other hand to slacken his grip on her restraint, and one of her hands slipped to hold onto his shoulder.

"Fuck, hold on – slow – Remus, please," she gasped out. His fingers hurt, but there was something so delicious about the pain he was giving her, like a bruise you couldn't stop pressing. Remus, hearing her, eased up slightly to a lighter pace, though, he was still moving without an ounce of caution.

With the new pace in place, her hand moved slowly down from his shoulder and towards his abdomen. Finally, she found purchase just under his raggedy belt where a bulge had formed. When she gripped him, a groan left his lips, and his fingers stuttered their movements.

"Merlin, don't cum in your pants." Though she was nearly breathless, her words still held that same edge they always did.

"Fuck you," he rasped as his thumb found her clit. The new sensation sent a shockwave through her, and her hand resurfaced on his bicep. It had only been minutes since he'd started, but, embarrassingly enough, she felt the hot mixture of pain and pleasure tightening in her. Within moments, she couldn't take it anymore, and a half-silent cry escaped her as she came on his fingers. His movements slowed, but never let up entirely.

"Don't cum in your pants next time," he whispered gruffly as his hand slipped away. It was then that she realized that her jeans were still up to her thighs, and Remus never bothered to remove her panties to gain more access. Ignoring the way he'd said 'next time,' she met his eyes.

"Are you gonna blue-ball yourself or get on with it?" She snipped.

"You always have something to say," he shook his head. His fingers, still laced with her release, reached for his belt. Each of them shuffled out of their jeans and undergarments. Remus was quick to shuffle through his discarded pants to find his wallet, which housed a singular crumpled condom. She watched as he tore it open.

"Who's fucking you, Lupin?" She scoffed.

"You, apparently," he replied, slipping the condom over his length. He hated that he was hard as a rock without being touched, but chose to ignore that fact as he lined himself with her entrance.

Remus sunk into her slow, a feeling that caused each of them to hiss at. His hands found her waist as hers found his shoulders. For a moment, they were still: her, sitting at the edge of the table, him, between her legs. Then, he began to move. Slow, languid strokes to the rhythm of something a little more tender than what they were doing.

"You fuck like a grandpa," she huffed against his shoulder. Truth be told, she actually quite liked the pace he'd set. It wasn't as if she could let him know that, though.

"Merlin, you talk too much," he groaned in reply. Half-angered and half-turned on by her words, he immediately assumed a quicker pace. It was a fast ramp up from tender love-making to hateful fucking that had them both gasping for air. He thrust into her without regard for any of her pleasure, choosing to chase his own high. In return, she met him halfway, returning his vigor with just as much urgency.

Though they both still had their sweaters on, their grips on each other threatened to wear the material. Her nails dug past the woven fabric to prick his skin, and the pads of his fingers pressed harsh marks into her waist. The speed at which they were moving drove Remus further to the edge, and after a while, he was biting back whimpers. Sensing this, she licked her lips.

"I'm not even close," she spoke, though, her breathless voice partially betrayed her. Remus, however, couldn't care less whether she was bluffing or not. His hand slipped from her waist to find where they met. Like before, his thumb rubbed circles against her clit, causing her to clench around his length. This new feeling was the straw that broke the camels back, and each of them came undone, letting out simultaneous moans of pleasure.

Remus gave a few more weak thrusts before the sensation became too much and he chose to stand still, heaving hot breaths into the crook of her neck. They were both still in the wake of what they'd done. Clarity washed over them, and eventually he pulled out.

They silently gathered themselves. He moved away from her and tied off the condom while she located and pulled up her partially wet panties. The only sounds that accompanied them were heavy breaths and zippers.

"We shouldn't have been so loud," she spoke as she gathered her books into her bag, "It's a bloody library, someone could've easily caught us."

"You shouldn't have been in the library in the first place," he huffed in return. Under the light of the still-burning candle, Remus noticed a splotch of wetness at the edge of the table. Moving his sleeve past his palm, he wiped the spot down.

"Ew," her brows furrowed as she looked at him with disgust.

"I was just inside you, you can't say 'ew' to that," he rolled his eyes at her. She opened her mouth to respond, but instead, shifted her weight. A sigh left her lips.

"We should leave separately," she spoke quietly, "You go ahead first."

"Oh, so you can stay in the library past hour?" He raised a brow.

"You're one to talk! All you do is cause problems, and–" she stopped herself with a deep inhale, "Just leave first, yeah? You're probably supposed to be back by now, Prefect rounds don't last this long." While he wanted to argue, he instead let out a huff and whispered a quick lumos to light the end of his wand. With a final glance back at her, he left, quickly making his way out of the library and to the halls. As he walked, he finally had a moment to realize what they'd just done.

What in hell was that? He calmed himself by looking at the facts. Fact: he hated her. Fact: she hated him. Fact: that was the best sex he'd ever had. Fact: he wanted to do it again.

He swallowed hard as he stepped through the portrait of the Fat Lady and into the Gryffindor common room. His movements were robotic: first, going to the washroom to clean up and dispose of the condom still in his possession, second, moving to his dorm room to not sleep. He slipped into the room quietly to find each of his roommates asleep. Relief flooded him as he slipped his sweater over his head.

"You're late." A voice startled him so bad that he nearly threw his sweater. Gulping, he scanned the room to find Sirius partially propped up. His black hair was a mess, and it seemed as though he was only half awake.

"Yeah, uh," Remus finished changing and slipped into his bed, "A few first years were out. Causing trouble, y'know, the usual."

"I thought maybe you'd ran into Y/n, got into a late-night screaming match," Sirius giggled. The mention of her name caused him to tense, but he tried his best to laugh along with the joke.

"No, no Y/n," he lied through his teeth.

"Y'know," Sirius sat up a bit more, "You two should just shag and get it over with. I bet–”

"Goodnight, Pads," Remus interrupted him quickly.

"Fine, fine, don't shag," he shrugged, laying back down, "Never know."

Though he tried to fight it, a small grin stretched across his lips. Remus knew very well.

#thursday writes #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus john lupin #remus j lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x reader smut #smut #mdni #18+ only

[dotster001]

Daddy End

Previous Chapters: One Two Three Choose Another Ending

Please see me after class

That's what was scrawled on the top of your paper.

"What did you do?" You hissed at your kitty companion, who was usually the reason you had to stay after class. If you could go back in time, you would tell yourself not to accept "beast tamer" as a title.

"Nothin'" he hissed back. "Maybe you're the one who messed up this time."

"Not likely," you hissed back, before seeing Crewel giving you a disapproving stare. You turned back to your cauldron, deciding to grill your roommate later.

"Everything okay?" Alano, your lab partner from Octavinelle, asked.

"Yeah, Crewel just wants me to talk to him after class."

"Do you want me to wait for you?"

"No, but I appreciate the offer. It means a lot."

You gave him a reassuring smile, and he nodded skeptically, before adding another item to the cauldron.

After a tense 45 minutes, the class cleared out, and you stood before Crewel's desk. He sat back in his chair for a moment, and sighed.

"As I understand it, I haven't been chosen to be your husband, by your cat."

"Wha-" you started, but he cut you off by pressing a red gloved finger to your lips.

"No, no, it's alright, pup. If I am truly not worthy, then I shall have to accept that."

His finger to your lips turned into a gentle caress, ending with his hand resting on the side of your neck. Your head was spinning, as his cologne clouded your senses. After a pause, he gave another heavy sigh, before saying in a low voice,

"But if you ever change your mind, and want to give me a second chance," he gently squeezed your neck, not enough to hurt you, just enough to send a shiver up your spine, before slowly pulling his hand away, "Even just for one evening, where I can feed you the finest of delicacies and dress you in the finest of clothes, and simply bask in your presence, you know where to find me."

He sat down, and began working on papers, as though he hadn't just told you that your kitty roommate had ignored your orders not to sell you off, while simultaneously making you wish he'd sold you off, specifically to him.

"Um, professor?" Your tongue was lead in your mouth, and you felt like you'd need to drink a lot of water with how dry your mouth felt.

"Divus, my pet."

He wasn't even looking up at you. You made an attempt to clear your throat.

"D-Divus, I don't know anything about what you're talking about…"

He gave an unenthusiastic hum.

"But I wouldn't be opposed…"

Another hum.

"That is, if you wanted to…"

He looked up at you, face blank. Your cheeks started to burn, and you prayed to whatever was out there that he didn't know how flustered he had made you. You weren't that lucky, though. You were pretty sure he knew.

"You know…" you finished, pretty much below a whisper.

He stared at you for a moment, before gasping.

"Could it be, my favorite pet feels the same as I do?" He stood, his eyes widening. "Could it be, I still have a chance with you?"

He reached out his hand to cup your cheek, before faltering, and holding it in place. You gently took his outstretched hand in yours, giving it a light squeeze.

He smiled a gentle, relieved smile, and it struck you how he wasn't that much older than you really. He still was just a lovestruck school boy, who'd happened to be smart enough to graduate earlier than some, and rose through the ranks quickly, probably due to some money saving scheme of Crowley's. He seemed just as nervous about asking you out as you were about him.

"I know this classy little pasta restaurant. It's not overly luxurious, but still fancy. Would you meet me back here in an hour, so we could go together?"

There was that schoolboy light in his eyes again.

You nodded, and he kissed the back of your hand, before gently shooing you out.

You were far too flustered to notice Grim and Crowley standing in the doorway and glaring at Crewel.

"And that's how it's done, gentlemen," Divus said with a smirk, once you were out of earshot. He grinned at Grim.

"Don't worry too much about it, kitty, you'll have plenty of riches and deluxe tuna from me, even though it hurt dreadfully to know you didn't pick me."

Crowley pouted even deeper.

"You're lucky I'm so generous, or…"

"Or what? Face it, Dire, we both know who the better sugar daddy is here."

And with that he brushed past both of them, humming a happy little tune to himself as he prepared for his date.

The End

#for tuna #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #divus crewel x reader #divus x reader #twst divus #divus crewel #professor crewel #crewel x reader #twst crewel

[gortashs-skidmark]

Tieflings DnD - variations for the fanfic writers and artists!! -

There’s a lot about tieflings on the internet. THESE ARE CANON, except for one thought i put in.

If you’re gonna do BG3 fanfics about Tieflings, please please please consider adding some spice with origin lore and CANON facts about their race :) it would be SO fun!

Pls I need more zevlor fanfic too.

UPDATE: I color coded a bit, and added some more facts, mostly political which explain some of our beloved tiefling's backgrounds. Orange; Canon Historical Events, Abilities, Bodily Facts, and Bloodlines. It means i think you should look into it.

Pink: I think it's cute. Red; Warning, Comment Purple; Headcanon (only one of them)

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- Tieflings are prone to bad luck, because of the Curse of Aasimar.

- Loviatar, the goddess, is a Tiefling. For those weird people in Act 1 who like that fucking guy Abdirak.

- They’re arcanally gifted, most of them. Zariel Tieflings are much better melee fighters.

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- Tielfling Blood; is tainted from the hells so they could have human parents. Be descendants of demon, devils, evil deities, night hags, and succubus!

- i know y’all love aphrodisiac fanfics, succubus spittle is exactly what you need dawg. Someone make me a fanfic including succubus heritage.

- along with that, Tieflings are unable to breed with anyone except humans or other Tieflings. Literally. They can be Tiefling or human.

- Usually there is some tell to if they’re Zariel, Asmodeus, Mephistopheles by birth mark, or traits like cat eyes, or night hags bloodlines have red eyes without pupils or scelaras

EDIT: I thought the flaming pupils were cat-like slit eyes in the game, but Karlach does indeed have regular slits!

- Tieflings can be male, female, or without gender. It is a canon fact. A win for my gender struggling homies.

- They can have green, blue, purple, pink, yellow, red skin tones. With dark hair colors only like black, purple, dark red and blue. I don’t care for this, genes be gene-ing so have any color you want.

Mephestopheles is recorded as to having blue skin, pale blue whites and red eyes, soot black scales, with large wings in the 2nd Manual. BUT in a 3e version he is described having red skin, bat wings, being 9ft, with white eyes, and slick black hair. Both of these are present in Mephestophic Bloodlines in BG3. Raphael is the son, though cambion, is red.

Asmodeus rules the Nine Hells. Mephestopheles being his archduke, only rules the 8th layer. Asmodeus has a humanoid, and a scale-fiend version of himself. He's red, slim, 13ft tall, horned, vibrant red eyes, and a neatly trimmed beard. He is Lawful-Evil.

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The Blood War (where Karlach escaped) is described as a "philosophical war" and which kind of evil would rule. Asmodeus plays a part but didn't start it, it's rooted in ancient Hell conflicts. Asmodeus claimed it was a senselessly bloody conflict from a militia standpoint. He really hates it, he's not a fan of it. INFERNAL POLITICS ARE FUCKING COMPLICATED. look into it :)

Zevlor is a Hellrider or Rider of Elturel! a Cavalry unit for Elturel during the 14th and 15th century. They ride horseback, and use spears and bows. They're well reguarded!! Zevlor should have more pride in himself for his service, being a refugee isn't his fault, or The Descent.

In the late 1400's striving for Paladin Knighthood in the Order of Companion was a rank of Hell rider. Before and after the year 1494, you could be a Paladin and join freely.

The Order of Companions was an Elturel, of Western Heartland, theocratic realm of Paladin Knighthood. It's just a region of Paladins that are highly reguarded. They typically worship Tyr, Torm, Helm, and Aumanator.

They kept order in the high capital of Elturel, preserving local civilization from outer destruction. They're super Lawful Good.

Typically an Oath of Devotion or an Oath of the Crown.

"For a City Guard, they outmatched the armies of the Whole Realm" - Forgotten Wiki Realms

They guard general land, they aren't really police, and can escort as far as Waterdeep if privileged to. It is a job they hold for life. I FUYCKING LOVE HELLRIDERS.

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- Tieflings can have feathers! Although rare. They can have fur, scales, or be bald like humans. They can be any variation of sorts!

- Tieflings are technically minorities and don’t live in the highest neighborhoods. It gives them an even worse reputation.

- Most of the Tieflings with famous status, also give bad reps. Like Loviatar as mentioned.

- When Tieflings get nervous, experience anxiety, or are upset. They’re known to wrap their tails around their leg!! Super telling.

- They can use their tail like a monkey, very dexterous about it. It’s about 5-6ft long.

- Their ages, weight, height. All similar to humans. Idk how logical that is with 5 extra feet of meat behind them. Sometimes they can live longer, to about 120-150 years old.

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- Tieflings are as sensitive as humans, same hearing. They usually have dark vision. And their body temperatures can be colder or warmer than humans depending on their type of tainted blood. --Mephistopheles blood lines are from the frozen layer of hell, maybe their blood is colder.

- They don’t purr, sorry girlies. They’re closer to humans than Tabaxis or Driders.

- Tieflings don’t regrow horns unless they’re still young, though they do tend to file them down.

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- There are so many Tieflings bloodlines. I love the Babau Tieflings bc they’re already known as uncanny creatures-- Babau Tieflings are gaunt and skinny, darker skin, and a small horn coming from the back of their head.

- Marilith Tieflings are known to be seductive- more than they already are, and have dark hair. They have snake-like half-bodies and have grey tongues.

- Succubus Tieflings! They’re like the ones you see in bg3, often have a small set of wings.

- Tieflings can have so many fucking variations it makes me dizzy.

- Tieflings can have bat-like wing shaped ears, that perk up and shit. I know yall think about ear movements. <zevlor has this>

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Edit: Ya'll loved this :) I can do another on Tiefling politics if ya'll want. Or more bloodlines and fun facts if you want.

I have built another list of Canon facts about Driders and Kar'niss Headcanons if you monster fuckers are interested!!

Currently in the works; He Who Was Headcanons and Shadar'Kai canon facts and events.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tiefling #bg3 zevlor #bg3 rolan #bg3 dammon #karlach #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanart

[skywerse]

Finch finally got a redesign that suits her more... With that, if you want to know more about my riptide oc, info below! :D

WARNING: there's A LOT of yapping

Finch, originally named Farren Van Aalsburg, stands as a 22-year-old pirate whose legacy is intertwined with the notorious ship, The Arbiter. 

Known for her ruthless and calculated leadership, Finch's mere approach to piracy would send ripples of apprehension through the ranks of sailors and even unsettle the most seasoned navy officers. The very mention of her crew's arrival was often met with foreboding whispers. In taverns, pirates would share knowing smirks over their mugs of beer, while officers would exchange wary glances. They'd caution one another, 

"Retribution's coming."

Farren's lineage traces back to a well-known navy captain, Heimer Van Aalsburg, praised for his adeptness in handling internal conflicts and hailed as one of the foremost strategists in naval warfare. Alongside his family, composed of Farren, her stepsister Hestia, and stepmother Alisei, they resided aboard a wonderful mahogany vessel, embarking on voyages from one port to another.

For Heimer, Farren was the centre of his universe, he couldn't have wished for a better daughter. Their connection strengthened, particularly in the wake of Farren's mother, Julith Ferin's passing when Farren was just four years old.

The bond between Farren and her younger sister was equally profound, they had an unbreakable bond from the very moment they met. However, amidst this familial setting, Alisei nursed a vicious, festering resentment, convinced that Farren overshadowed Hestia in Heimer's eyes. This animosity later culminated in a tragic incident that took place one, stormy night. 

In an unfortunate turn of events, Farren finds herself overboard, her desperate attempt to grasp the ship resulting in a severe injury to her right arm. Eventually, the raging waters below are quick to swallow her.

As her consciousness returns, she kneels before a colossal leviathan. The creature presents a solemn pact: it will guide her to the nearest vessel and mend her injured arm, with the condition that she accepts the burden of becoming the guardian of the seas until her last dying breath. An oath that binds her to a life on the move, forbidding her to settle on solid ground or abandon her duty. With hesitation, she agrees.

One fateful day, Skip, a hardy half-orc fisherman, discovers a young girl ensnared in his ship's nets. Swift to lend a helping hand, he extends not only a refuge but a genuine home for the girl, determined to help navigate her through the uncertain future.

Now residing on a small isle, a mere few days were enough for her to befriend a whole flock of zebra finches, who trailed behind her like loyal companions. Considering the girl didn't remember anything, let alone her name, Skip decided that the name 'Finch' would be more than a suitable choice.

Finch grapples with a zero to no recollection of herself and her family. Her only tangible link is a gilded medallion etched with the initials 'J.H.F’ accompanied by a few fleeting memories of her father.

Finch becomes a stalwart protector, earning recognition as the island's guardian. Fueled by an unyielding commitment, she gathers a crew at the age of 16. Two years later, they embark on their first voyage.

Her four years at sea culminates in a fierce clash with the navy, leaving Finch and her childhood friend, Shelby, as the lone survivors. In the wake of the tragedy, Finch confronts a maelstrom of emotions, grappling with guilt, simmering anger, and the rekindling of a long-suppressed fear of the unforgiving ocean.

"What value does a fierce pirate captain, one who commands the treacherous seas yet harbours such fear, truly possess?" - Niklaus, on their last meeting.

Finch and Niklaus have a history of encounters, each one more significant than the last.

Their first meeting took place when Finch was just 16, in the midst of assembling her crew. Niklaus dangled the promise of information regarding her family, but only if she'd abandon her oath. She refused, even poking fun at him the whole time—a stance she maintained on numerous occasions.

The second encounter, at the age of 22, followed a previously mentioned, deadly battle. Niklaus presented her an offer to turn back time, still on the condition of letting go of her oath. Once again, she refused, stating he's a fool if he thinks she'll ever give it up. After a few humiliating attempts at bribing her, he gives up.

A mere few weeks later, their paths crossed once more. This time, Niklaus proposed a lasting solution to banish her deep-seated fear of the ocean in return for a future favour. He pledged to provide a specific time, place, and a duel to be won, one she'd be obliged to fulfil, that is not linked to her oath. After careful consideration, and a few conditions, Finch shook on the arrangement (and still made fun of him the entire time).

(where are we in the timeline as of that moment? this would be around the time when silly riptide pirates are stuck in the Feywild...)

What's next for Finch? Well, she'd probably take this opportunity to uncover more about her past, of course with Shelby's help. And then maybe she'll bribe a cute moon sorcerer to join her crew...

#digital art #character concept art #dnd oc #oc #original character #oc art #jrwi riptide oc #the yappening is real #skye's ocs #riptide oc

[morerawerbreath]

Fictional Men Ranked Least to Most Likely to Eat Pussy

When I’m bored my powers turn to evil. Happy to announce that @earlymodernlesbian is not only is an enabler but wrote a gay companion piece which you can and should read here!!!! 

10. Mr. Rochester — Jane Eyre

No chance of oral here. Sorry, I don’t think he puts Jane first once in this book. She’s too busy being a ministering angel to ever consider anything above and beyond her wifely duty and I don’t think Rochester ever really stops being a narcissist long enough to consider her desires or even, you know, her life. I bet his french mistress asked him to do it once and he was like “ew, no”

9. Rhett Butler — Gone With the Wind

Rhett says shit like “you ought to be kissed and by someone who knows how,” and then I bet would go down on you one time just to show you what you were missing out on, and then he’d tease you about how much you liked it for months afterwards and refuse to do it again. Imagine how much more normal Scarlett might have been if she was getting regular oral.

8. Konstantin Levin — Anna Karenina

Definitely knows about eating pussy and can’t stop thinking about it. I think he might even shamefully obsess about it in conjunction with his dirty peasant laborer fantasies. However, he also has the ascetic monk thing going on so I bet he hardcore represses his desires to actually do it. That being said, I think if he ever got over himself he’d be way into it.

7. Mr Darcy — Pride and Prejudice

I’m not convinced Mr. Darcy even knows going down on girls is a thing, but once Bingley had filled him in I bet he would try it. Elizabeth I’m sure would not object but I can’t see this happening more than once or twice.

6. Oliver Mellors — Lady Chatterley’s Lover

Mellors has the distinct advantage and disadvantage of being the only character from a book that actually describes sex acts. If it was based solely on what he said (being turned on by getting women off, not shutting up about Connie’s ass, talking about how much he wants a “real” woman with a “real” body), I’d say absolutely he wants to get down there and would use the cringiest words possible to describe it. However, they textually do almost everything else so I feel like if he ate her out DH Lawrence would have told us 😔

EDIT: he goes down on her in the most recent movie!!! vindicated

5. Jonathan Harker — Dracula

Jonathan is obsessed with Mina (rightfully) and loves her to the end of the earth, so of course he’d do anything for her, including eat her out. However, there’s so much putting women on goddess pedestals in Dracula that he might just like, repeatedly kiss her between her legs and and be like, “am I doing this right?” and Mina would be like “I love you so much Jonathan” but she wouldn’t actually get off, you know? 

4. Heathcliff — Wuthering Heights

Someone who is willing to dig up your grave would definitely be down to lick your pussy. Cathy and Heathcliff are so rabid about each other I bet oral is like, one of the least weird things they would have done to each others bodies if they had the chance

3. Gabriel Oak — Far from the Madding Crowd

Not intimidated by Bathsheba’s independence and position of power. Could take care of her and spoil her if she ever let him and they both know it. Plus, not afraid to get down and dirty and do farm work for her. If a man cures your sheep and saves your hay before a storm, what else will he do for you? 👀

2. Mr. Knightley — Emma

Mr. Knightly is the definition of a service top. 100% confident in his masculinity and completely comfortable putting Emma’s needs and wants first, but not gonna let her get away with being high and mighty. Excellent combination of obsessed with her but still in charge. ;) She would get neurotic about it and he would tell her to chill out and he’d be right.

1. George Emerson — A Room with a View

George chugs his respect women juice and is so turned on by the idea of women as individuals with unique desires he can’t stand to see Lucy betray herself by marrying a robot. “I want you to have your own thoughts even when I hold you in my arms” ?!? “The desire to govern a woman lies very deep, and men and women must fight it together before they shall enter the Garden” !! What’s not to love about a pro-Eve humanist who enjoys swimming naked and is constantly telling everyone to be less embarrassed about desire and the body? No question George is going to be eating Lucy out every day of their lives and getting off on it himself.

Bonus: 

Marius Pontmercy — Les Misérables

Shy, but also French. Not sure which one wins out here. 

#pride and prejudice #emma #wuthering heights #a room with a view #far from the madding crowd #gone with the wind #anna karenina #lady chatterley's lover #dracula #jonathan harker #mr darcy #heathcliff #rhett butler #jane eyre #mr rochester #marius #les mis

[the-traveling-poet]

so, i’m at work currently BUT i can’t get this out of my head. i read your piece about levi having a wife that no one knew about and everyone was surprised that he actually had a wife and i loved it! i was wondering if you would write something regarding how the others would react to you and levi being together or something along those lines. i just love pieces where the relationship is private until it’s not and everyone is shocked about it.

thank you!!!

Headcannon no. 9

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Private

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A/N: Ofc lovely, and thank you so much! Sorry for the wait, life’s been hectic :/

taglist: @21aurora @deepzombieyouth @braunsbabe

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If Levi Ackerman was one thing, it was certainly private.

Unless he spoke on it, anything regarding his personal life was left a mystery to anyone and everyone.

He kept his emotions and personal affairs to himself, much to his closer friend’s disappointment.

They only ever knew what he was thinking when he would scoff out a snarky response to something being said, followed by the click of his tongue.

Though they’d tried many tactics to get him to open up, and by they I mean Hange, they couldn’t get a peep out of him regarding his personal life.

They all learned very quickly that Levi liked to keep to himself more often than not.

So it came as a shock to both Erwin and Hange when he agreed to accompany them into Trost one evening for a gathering of sorts held in one of the town halls.

What was more shocking, was the way he seemed almost eager to go.

By the time they arrived and made pleasant small talk with other high ranking officials, they soon found out why his behavior had changed so drastically.

After losing the shorter man in the crowd and searching the halls to find him, they were met with a sight they never in a hundred years imagined seeing.

Levi; stoic, cold-demeanor and sharp tongued Levi Ackerman hand in hand with a beautiful woman.

“W-what…how…when?!”

“Close your damn mouth four-eyes. You’ll catch flies.”

He’d walk you closer to them, his expression much more soft and tranquil than normal as he introduced the lovely woman on his arm to his friends.

“Eyebrows. Four-eyes. This is Y/N; my wife.”

His soft tone and loving gaze your way left the two speechless for far longer than they’d have liked to admit.

“So this is why you were eager to come,” Erwin would muse near silently.

Poor Hange didn’t know what to do with themselves as they excitedly took your hand from Levi’s to greet you.

“OhmygodLevinevertoldusaboutyouwellhenevertellsusanythingbutohmygoditssonicetomeetyouI’mHange!”

Cue a slap to the back of the head from Levi and an exasperated sigh. “And you wonder why I don’t ever say anything.”

But what neither of you were expecting, while knowing full well tonight would be the night Levi broke the news to them, was to see Erwin near bursting at the seams with a bright grin.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs Y/N. I’m glad to see Levi has someone so lovely at his side to accompany him. I’m sure the others would like to make your acquaintance as well.”

You turned to Levi with a raised brow and eager smile, to which he rubbed at his brow with an exasperated sigh.

“Fine, I’ll introduce you to the others. But we’re going home after this; I’ve been surrounded by idiots long enough for one night.”

“You guys have a home?!”

Taking your hand gently in his own, Levi led you away from the babbling scientist and chuckling Commander to go seek out his other companions for a quick meet and greet.

“They’re lovely; Hange and Erwin,” you snickered, squeezing your husband’s hand reassuringly.

“I’m sure you’ll be seeing much more of them, now that you’ve met,” Levi scoffed, leading you on.

But secretly, Levi was bursting with pride and joy watching his friends accept you so easily and excitedly.

And especially, that they’d accepted him for opening up a tiny bit on his personal life.

#lynn’s requests #lynn’s headcannons #attack on titan #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot fluff #aot x reader #snk #aot #aot x y/n #aot x you #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi fluff #levi headcannons #levi headcanons #shingeki no kyoujin levi #attack on titan levi #levi x reader #aot levi #levi aot #snk levi #levi attack on titan #captain levi #levi x you