#never drawn or studied honey before but one day i will

[the-travelling-bitch]

i demand an explanation-

act fool act fool act fool act fool

ahem, just imagine…

a deep, melodic voice, brushing right against your ear as his warm breath fans the side of your cheek; he pulls back as you lower your head in embarrassment at the heat flushing your face just from his words alone but he’s not having any of it

with two fingers under your chin he’s tilting your head up to meet his gaze, entrancing eyes swirling with something darker as his other hand on the small of your back pulls you flush against him, letting you feel the bulge in his pants

“you’ll be good for me, won’t you, doll?”

˗ˏˋ– i’m thinking… zhongli, al-haitham, kaeya, draken, osamu, semi, lucifer, malleus

he’s teasing, you know he is, but there’s not much you can do about it; no, not when he has you sat between his legs with your knees hooked over his thighs as his fingers flutter over your skin, dangerously close to where you need him most but never. quite. there.

this is how it has been all day; a fleeting touch here, an amused whisper in your ear there and your thoughts were spiralling out of control just like that, getting more lewd the more you tried to fight them off

and you also know he’s enjoying this, riling you up and acting coy about it later on, biding his time until you give up and give in, begging him to do something; his chuckle vibrates against your back, enough to make you whine out for him again before his fingers finally run through your soaked slit to collect your arousal

“look at you, so worked up all because of a few words? tell me what’s been running through that pretty head of yours~”

˗ˏˋ– i’m thinking… childe, bachira, reo, asmo, belphie, solomon, koko, hanma, ran, suna, oikawa, mattsun, jamil, leona, lilia, ace

soft praise is rolling off his tongue like honey, clouding your head and slowing your thoughts; not that you’d need to think much anyway right now, all that mattered was the feeling of plush lips on yours, biting down on your bottom lip gently before he pulls back, so you can catch your breath

his knuckles brush over the bones of your cheeks and you lean into his touch, basking in the comfort of his warm and familiar embrace; attentive eyes study your features as if he saw them for the first time, drawn to the movement of his thumb swiping across your kiss-swollen mouth

“you’re the prettiest sight i’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. truly, nothing could ever compare”

˗ˏˋ– i’m thinking… kazuha, diluc, thoma, satan, barbatos, simeon, akaashi, kita, chigiri, isagi, inui, mitsuya, riddle, trey, jade, vil, silver

somewhere in the back of your head you wonder if he ever shuts up; he’s been running his mouth since your innocent kiss evolved into something a little friskier, tongues tangling together and your hand gripping his hair tightly

his babbling turned more incoherent the second his hips bucked against yours, in desperate search for friction to relieve the tension building in his stomach; how could you not give him what he wants when the roll of your hips forces a whimper as pretty as this from his throat?

“fuck, you always feel so good, baby; you’ll let me make you feel good to, right?”

˗ˏˋ– i’m thinking… mammon, levi, gorou, hinata, shinichiro, takemitchi, ruggie, idia, kalim

he’s so mean, downright cruel, words not even teasing anymore but already mocking you in that condescending tone; he knows you love it that way though and he’s holding that fact over your head, making white hot shame burn through your veins

as if your sweet whimpers aren’t evidence enough, the clenching of your cunt around him certainly is; with one hand around your throat he’s making sure your looking right at him while he’s making you agree with the lewdest of statements

“what’s with the tears, sweetheart? i thought you liked being used like my personal little cock sleeve? so be good and take what i give you”

˗ˏˋ– i’m thinking… scara, pantalone, sae, kaiser, futakuchi, izana, floyd

stoic and expression unreadable, a few deep grunts and groans are what you mostly get to hear, his actions doing most of the talking instead, big hands splayed on your hips and pulling you back down onto him with every thrust

but then again, his mouth practically moves on his own when you keep whimpering his name, pulling him back in with every flutter of your walls; you don’t think he even knows he’s talking to you, doesn’t even consciously try to make you melt under his touch more; the bluntness of his words is what has your head spinning, the genuine way he merely describes what he sees and feels when he’s got you spread so nicely for him

“this is the spot, isn’t it? can feel your cunt clench, ‘s real tight around me right now, you’re making it so hard to move”

˗ˏˋ– i’m thinking… xiao, nagi, rin, kunigami, beelzebub, rindou, sakusa, iwaizumi

wow, i got way off track, what were we talking about again—

obviously, no character is solely in one category only but these were my initial thoughts, i’ll see myself out now (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

#˗ˏˋ– signed by holly #˗ˏˋ– meet & greet #˗ˏˋ– fan mail from mei ♡ #jsjsisjsb #i have no excuse #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #obey me x reader #obey me smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland smut #minors dni

[rat-bastard-fics]

"Where the reader is his mate"

Hi there! Could I please request a Jasper Hale X Fem reader where the reader is his mate but still human and just transferred. Maybe a bit shy and likes to paint and read and one day jasper finds her in the woods.

Request by @bellewoods1215

Jasper X f!reader

word count: ~985

As a young girl, y/n was always shy. She found herself more inclined to catch butterflies and read books and let spiders outside than socialize and squash insect-like intruders. This, as one may expect, led to school being, succinctly put, not her favorite environment. She loved to learn, she adored learning, but the crowded halls and talkative peers, and near-constant tension between one duo or another was overwhelming to her. She found her peace in the nearby woods back behind the gymnasium. Her study hall directly preceded her lunch period, which was the luckiest she’d ever felt about a school schedule, and, so, it was easy to spend a couple hours outdoors—even in the vicious cold. Wrapping her late grandfather’s checked scarf around her neck and pulling on her knit cap and gloves, y/n tightened her sweater around herself and took her leave. She brought an easy read out with her—something really written for kids in middle school, but she’d read it a million times and the ease and expectedness of each word and page turn was easy to digest. And so, after brushing off a frosty icy rock, she sat with her legs bunched up in a slim stream of sunlight, opening her book and letting out a foggy breath.

Jasper Hale is the newest “vegetarian” in his family. Because of this, he’s specifically not supposed to spend alone time with humans, particularly when he’s hungry. It’s not at all that he can’t do it, it’s more that it’s safer to have someone of your own capabilities present to hold you accountable. He knows this. That’s why, on one solitary Thursday afternoon when the lunch bell rang, Jasper took the opportunity to leave school grounds and grab a bite to eat. He knew his eyes were quickly darkening to brown and soon they’d be black. He never lets himself go this long without eating, but it was hunting season, not to mention an especially cold winter, and so wildlife in the area was somewhat scarce. Adding to that, he’d rather let his family eat before him. Animals never quite satiated him anyway.

Stopping dead in his tracks, feeling the wind he picked up behind him rush back against him. He smelled the sweet beat of a human heart, but this one was different. There was no blood lust in him as he inhaled the peace that came with the even rhythm. And, without really thinking, almost like an undead monster, he lazed through the woods toward this innocuous love. Upon approach, he laid eyes on her.

Jasper had never particularly missed the warmth a pulse brought to his skin, but seeing her all bundled up, seeing the breath leave her body and almost block her view of the pages before her, he suddenly wanted nothing more than to be as warm-blooded as those wolves across the treaty line. He wanted to blanket her, to protect her from anything that could cause her harm or discomfort—even just the icy air. With nothing but a glance, without even knowing her name, he adored her.

---

Months went by. A number of people had approached y/n, Mike and Jessica, Angela and Ben, and it’s not as though she had anything in particular against anyone, she just didn’t feel the need for them. She didn’t feel drawn to them. Only one student caught her eye—a yellow-eyed, honey-haired boy with pain in his gaze. They only had a handful of classes together, and in none of those classes did they sit beside each other, but she kept an eye on him. She observed him and, unbeknownst to her, he returned the observations. Even sitting across the room from him, there was a peace she only knew when he was near.

But then the sun came out—really came out—and the ground began to thaw, and he was gone. She felt ridiculous even thinking about him, she wasn’t even sure of his name, how can you feel so attached to someone when you don’t even know their name?

One week—he was gone for a week—Wednesday to Wednesday—but, sitting against a tree near the edge of the lot on one solitary Thursday morning, a rumbling was heard probably throughout the entire city and a motorcycle—which was somehow both shiny and dusty—pulled into the lot. It parked, the kickstand was kicked to make the bike stand, and a helmet was removed to reveal that honey hair. He wasn’t cocky or attention-seeking, he didn’t catch much attention for suddenly roaring back to school, but y/n couldn’t look away. Not when he clipped the helmet around the handlebars, not when he pulled his leg over the bike to be standing independently, and not when his eyes met hers. They looked at each other for a second or maybe it was a year, and then the bell rang. Y/n’s eyes snapped away, looking towards the plain building, and she scrambled to stand unfortunately dropping her bag. Its contents spilled—a cheap watercolor set, pens, pencils, books, the works.

“Shit, shit, shit.” People pooled into the school behind her as she tried, as quickly as possible, to scoop all of her belongings back into her bag. Shoving one thing in, she turned back but it was all stacked quite neatly in a hand that held her things out to her.

“Thank you.” She smiled, awkwardly, and grabbed her things. They were cold as he removed his hands, looking up to thank the Good Samaritan properly, her eyes were fixed back on his.

“Of course.” A beat, as she placed her things aside and he stuck out his hand to her, “Jasper.”

His voice was smooth and twangy, but in a subtle sort of way. It felt like nobody else was around—and maybe they weren’t by now—but she smiled, placing her hand in his.

“Y/n.”

#twilight fluff #twilight fandom #twilight fanfiction #twilight #twilight saga #fanfic #fanfiction #twilight requests #request #requests open #reqs open #jasper x reader #jasper hale #jasper #cullen #jasper cullen #vampires

[celestiall0tus]

Tales of Bloody Bug and Chat Noir - Chapter 12 - Pharoah

Beginning || Previous || Next

            Alix ran around the new Tutankhamun exhibit in the Louvre. Jalil followed her and explained each display. She took notes before he started in on his theories to the next. She made her way to Tutankhamun’s specter as their dad joined them.

            “How’s everything going, you two?” Alim asked.

            “Amazing. I’ll have the best project for History yet,” Alix beamed.

            “And you, Jalil?”

            “It’s unbelievable! You managed to get everything I need,” Jalil exclaimed.

            “Need for what?” Alim pressed.

            Alix rolled her eyes. “Oh, here we go.”

            “Indeed. I want to direct your attention to the scroll on this wall.”

            Alim and Alix followed Jalil as they approached an adjacent wall.

            “So, Dad, you know this, but for Alix, the one with the scepter is Tutankhamun the First. There, opposite, is Nefertiti, his princess. There are exactly one hundred mummies beside them. She died several years before him and the sun god, Ra, took her as his goddess.”

            “Get to the point,” Alix said.

            “I am. Tutankhamun wanted to bring his princess back to life by offering the sun god a new wife. The scene illustrates a ritual he devised. However, nobody has ever fully deciphered the hieroglyphics, but I have. It’s a magic chant that needs to be recited in order to complete the ritual. I’m sure of it. I just need the scepter and I can carry out the ritual.”

            “I mean, that’s cool and all, but it looks like you need a human sacrifice for the ritual. Aren’t we long past that?” Alix asked.

            Alim sighed. “Jalil, I love the interest you take in your study, but even if it were to work, I can’t allow you to do that.”

            “Yeah. And the human sacrifice thing again. Who would you even use for it? Did you even think of that?”

            “Indeed, I did. The lucky sacrifice I picked is none other than Chloe Bourgeois,” Jalil announced.

            Jalil pulled out a crudely drawn imitation of Chloe. Alix snickered while Alim scowled.

            “Alix, don’t laugh at that.”

            “I mean, it’s kinda funny,” Alix admitted.

            “No, it’s not, young lady,” Alim scolded.

            Alix pursed her lips as Alim stepped closer to Jalil.

            “As I’ve said, I admire your dedication and passion for history and the supernatural aspects of it, but I cannot allow this. Not only because I cannot stake my entire career and our livelihood on a potential legend, but I will not let you indulge in these murderous fantasies.”

            “Don’t you see it’s perfect? We could discover the secret to resurrection and keep Alix safe. No more anger, no more worries.”

            “How would this help her?”

            “Because Chloe is clearly a focal point for a lot of Alix’s anger and stress. We remove that and-.”

            “Absolutely not. Jalil, do you hear yourself? We should be helping Alix work through it to the point. Not eliminating the cause without knowing the reason why. Without getting rid of the roots, it will spread. If not Chloe, it’ll be someone or something else.”

            “But-!”

            “Enough! I won’t hear of this anymore. I want you to take the day off, Jalil. I need you to get your head on straight before you even consider coming back here.”

            Jalil opened his mouth but closed it and stormed off.

            “Dad, you’re not upset that we aren’t making progress on my… issues, are you?” Alix asked.

            “Alix, honey, no. You are young and going through a lot of change in your life while dealing with a past trauma. It is a challenge, but we’ll handle it at the pace that you’re comfortable with. That is what matters most.”

            “But what if we never find out? What if I don’t get better?”

            “Sometimes that happens. Which, we just need to learn to adapt, just as our ancestors did. We are still human and capable of so much. Even if you never find the source of your anger and trauma, you’ll learn to adapt and live around it. Sometimes it’s all we can do. Much like your mother.”

            “Was she hurt?”

            “Well, let’s just say she didn’t have the upbringing you and Jalil have. Far from actually. It made her very slow to trust and guarded. I’m still amazed I got through her walls, but I’m glad I did. I got to be with the most amazing, flawed woman and human I’ve ever known. On top of that, we had two equally amazing and flawed children, just like we are.”

            “Is that why you push me to make friends?”

            “It is another reason, yes. I know it’s cliché to say love saved us, but it really did. I wasn’t half the man I was before I met your mom. She made sure to toughen me up and in return, I softened her. With me, she was able to open herself up, even if it was just a little.”

            “Did Mom have trouble too?”

            “Oh, yes. And I’d get to hear all about it, but that was all part of the process. It’s a slow and painful one, but one that must be taken at your own pace.”

            “Excuse me, but are you the Director of the museum?” Nathalie asked.

            Alim and Alix turned to the entrance where Adrien stood with Nathalie and Gorilla. Alim stepped forward.

            “I am. May I help you?”

            “My boss’s son heard about this exhibit arriving and wanted to visit it to gather information for a school project. Is it open?” Nathalie explained.

            “It may not be open just yet, but I can allow this. After all, my own daughter has been doing the same. Uh, Alix?”

            Alix stepped up beside Alim. “Yeah?”

            “Would you assist him while Jalil is out for the day?”

            “Do I have to?”

            “No, but I would appreciate it.”

            Alix considered, approached Adrien, and gave him her notes. “Give these back to me or you will hurt.”

            “That’s not what I exactly had in mind,” Alim remarked.

            “Sorry, Dad, but I do have to get to roller derby.”

            Alim’s eyes widened. “I forgot about roller derby! It’s not a match today, is it?”

            “No, just practice.”

            “Thank goodness. Do you need a ride?”

            “Nah, I’m good. Thanks though.”

            “Stay safe, Alix. See you for lunch!”

            Alix waved goodbye and headed for the museum exit. She stopped when a tall, muscular man with roseish black skin, blue glowing eyes, and decked out in gold Egyptian jewelry, shendyt, and mask. She eyed Jalil’s scarab necklace in the collection of jewelry.

            “Jalil?” Alix asked.

            “Jalil is gone. I’m the Pharoah!”

            Alix grimaced and ran. She headed back to the Tutankhamun exhibit. She made it down the steps when Pharoah blocked her path. She skidded to a stop and scrambled back.

            “You’re fast, Alix, but not fast enough.”

            “Enough, Jalil! Cut the fucking crap!” Alix roared.

            “Alix?” Alim called.

            Pharoah turned where Alim’s voice came from. Alix took the opportunity and ran to hide. She transformed into Bloody Bug and ran back to the exhibit. She spotted Pharoah approaching Alim while Adrien, Nathalie, and Gorilla made their escape. She chunked her yo-yo in, and it wrapped around Alim. She pulled him out of Pharoah’s path.

            “Go! I’ll keep him busy!” Bloody Bug yelled.

            Alim hesitated, then ran.

            Bloody Bug turned as Pharoah closed the gap. Her eyes widened to see his mask had shifted to a lion’s head. He landed a blow on her side and sent her into the wall. The impact created a crater with her plastered to the bottom of it. She took a sharp breath as she felt the pain through her suit. He reached in, grabbed her face, and lifted her up.

            “Fucking bastard! That hurt!” Bloody Bug roared.

            “Then let’s make this easy for both of us. Give me your earrings.”

            “Over my dead body! Lucky Charm!”

            Ladybugs swirled and created an unassuming box. Pharoah laughed and picked it up.

            “Is this the best you can do, little bug?”

            Bloody Bug snarled and swung her legs up. She hit the corner of the box and it exploded. Pharoah yelled as she was propelled back. She rolled and staggered to her feet. She headed out of the museum as she heard his furious screams. She got as much distance between her and Louvre as possible. She slipped into an alleyway and de-transformed. She leaned against a wall and groaned.

            “That hurt.”

            “This is bad. We should go see Master,” Tikki said.

            “My thoughts too, Tikki. I think we should use elation. What do you think?”

            “Maybe call Bomb Bee back too?”

            Alix nodded. She stuck Tikki in her cap and headed for Wang Fu’s massage parlor. She headed in and found him finishing with a patient.

            “Ah, my next client. I’ll see you next week,” Wang Fu said to the patient.

            Alix slipped past the patient and shut the door. “I’m going to need help again.”

            “Twice in a row? It’s not that one girl again, is it?”

            “I’d rather that. No, my brother was akumatized into this demigod thing. He had a normal mask, then it was a lions, and then I was seismic punched into a wall with my own impact crater. Still feel the sting of it.”

            “Not to mention she blew up the exhibit and scepter that Jalil wanted to use to perform an ancient sacrificial ritual. So, he’s going to be coming right for her,” Tikki added.

            Wang Fu’s eyes widened. “That’s… concerning to say the least. Alright, one moment.”

            Alix took a seat while Wang Fu retrieved the Miraculous Box. She lifted her shirt to check for bruising, but didn’t’ see anything. She had expected to see a massive black bruise of Pharoah’s fist in her side.

            “Don’t worry. So long as you have me on, you won’t sustain any injuries, though you’ll feel the pain still,” Tikki reassured.

            “Fucking lovely,” Alix groaned.

            “Alright, here we are. Make your choices,” Wang Fu said.

            “How many am I allowed?” Alix asked.

            Wang Fu considered. “I’ll lend you three this time. Just as before, they are to be returned immediately after.”

            “Well, I know I want elation and action, but what would you suggest for a third?”

            Wang Fu considered, then took off the turtle shell bracelet he wore. “This belongs to the kwami of protection. I think you can guess what it does.”

            Alix snorted. “I don’t know. It might take a lot of guesses. Oh, you have anything I could give Tikki to recharge?”

            Wang Fu nodded. He left and returned shortly after with a plate of store-bought cookies. Tikki munched on a few before she flew up.

            “All good.”

            “Good. Saddle up, it’s going to be a long run,” Alix said.

            “We aren’t transforming?”

            “You said it yourself. He’s coming for Bloody Bug. It’d take longer, but we’d keep the others safe until we get the jewels to them. Now, in the cap.”

            Tikki giggled and hid under Alix’s cap. Alix messaged Marinette, asking where she and Alya were. She waited a minute when Marinette said she and Alya were at Places des Vosages. She put her phone away and headed to the location. She spotted them with Nino, sitting on the fountain. She slipped into an alleyway, transformed, and lassoed the three of them. She pulled them into the alley with her.

            “Woah! Bloody Bug? What’s up, dude?” Nino asked.

            “No time. I need help. I decided to pick a fight with a god and pissed them off. You three are going to help.”

            Alya squealed and jumped forward. Bloody Bug handed Alya the bee comb. Alya bounced, put the comb in her hair, and transformed into Bomb Bee.

            Nino’s jaw dropped as he pointed at Bomb Bee.

            “Surprised? You should be.”

            Bloody Bug snapped her fingers, getting Nino’s attention. She held up the panja bracelet for Marinette and the shell bracelet for Nino. “You two have the same deal as Alya. You get these for one time, help me, and give them back. Marinette, prove yourself strong and not too soft-hearted by accepting elation. Nino, you’re just here, so congratulations.”

            Marinette put on the panja bracelet while Nino put on the shell bracelet. Orbs shot out and circled them before they morphed into a magenta tiger kwami and a green turtle kwami.

            “Alright, make this snappy you two. We have a god hunting me,” Bloody Bug urged.

            “Oh my. Very well. I am Wayzz, kwami of protection. Pleasure to meet you, young man.

            “And I’m Roarr! Kwami of elation at your service, girlie!”

            “Tell them what they can do and how to transform,” Bloody Bug interjected.

            “Right. You can generate a shield saying ‘Shelter.’ To transform, say, ‘Wayzz, shell on.’ To de-transform, say, ‘Wayzz, shell off,’” Wayzz explained.

            “And for me, when you say ‘Clout,’ you can deliver a devastating sucker punch! Oh, and “Roarr, stripes on,’ to transform and ‘Roarr, stripes off,’ to de-transform,” Roarr yelled.

            “Be careful with these powers. One per transformation and then you have five minutes before you turn back. Now, suit up,” Bloody Bug ordered.

            “Wayzz, shell on!”

            “Roarr, stripes on!”

~~

            “Sekhmet, give me your strength!” Pharoah demanded.

            Chat Noir ran in as Pharoah’s mask shifted to a lion. Pharoah clapped his hands together that sent a shockwave that repelled Chat Noir. Chat Noir scrambled to his feet as Pharoah grabbed his face.

            “Where is that wretch, Bloody Bug?”

            “Couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to, which I don’t.”

            “You’ll soon change that tune when I-,” Pharoah started.

            “Hey, ugly!” Bloody Bug yelled.

            Pharoah turned to see Bloody Bug standing atop a nearby building. He laughed and dropped Chat Noir. He stepped forward when Bloody Bug jumped down and approached him.

            “Bug, what are you doing?” Chat Noir asked.

            “Oh, you know. The same thing as before.”

            Chat Noir raised a brow as Bloody Bug didn’t move. He stepped forward to intervene, but she held up a hand and counted down from five. He tilted his head when she got to one and used her Lucky Charm that created a simple book.

            “A book? That’s just as useless as your bomb,” Pharoah mocked.

            “See, that’s where you’re wrong. The book is a trident true that’s never failed me before.”

            “We’ll see about that.”

            Pharoah reached for Bloody Bug, but she jumped back. She hurled the book at his head that staggered him. Chat Noir jumped in and knocked Pharoah off his feet temporarily. Pharoah got back to his feet as a massive spinning top slammed into him. Bomb Bee and a cerise tiger heroine stood atop the spinning toy.

            Chat Noir’s jaw dropped, and eyes widened seeing the tiger girl. He was captivated by her simple, yet beautiful tiger-themed suit that was cerise, the perfect blend of red and pink, of femininity and aggression, accented elegantly with bronze stripes. Her deep magenta hair was pulled back into a pair of high pigtails that whipped wildly in the wind. All that paled in comparison to her savage, orange tiger eyes that shone with a wild delight.

            “Cowabunga, my dudes!”

            Chat Noir snapped out of his trace as a guy in a turtle themed superhero suit shield surfed past him, pulled along by Bomb Bee. He tilted his head at the nagging familiarity of the turtle hero’s voice.

            “Curse you, Bloody Bug! Too cowardly to face me alone?” Pharoah roared.

            “Aww, is the cowardly lion too scared to face us?” Bomb Bee mocked.

            “Excuse me?”

            “C’mon, meow meow. Let’s see how those tiny claws compare to a real wildcat.”

            Bomb Bee gestured to the tiger hero, who stood ready to fight. Pharoah shook his head and went for Bloody Bug, but the turtle hero cut him off as Pharoah’s attack bounced off the turtle shield.

            “I don’t think so, my dude. You want Bloody Bug, you’ll need to defeat me. Before you defeat me, you’ll need to beat them.”

            Pharoah roared and reared his arm back for another attack.

            “Shelter!”

            A dome-like turtle shield covered the turtle hero, Bloody Bug, and Chat Noir. Pharoah pounded on the barrier, but it wouldn’t relent.

            “Anyway, will he does that, name’s Carapace, dude Noir.”

            “You… seem familiar. Have we met?”

            “Can’t say we have. If we have, hit me up. I wouldn’t mind this hero gig again.”

            Chat Noir hummed as he looked back at the tiger hero. Pharoah finally turned away from them back to Bomb Bee and the tiger.

            “Fine. I’ll squish you two first.”

            “Let’s test the strength of your claws, kitten. Clout!” the tiger exclaimed.

            Chat Noir watched as the tiger and Pharoah’s fists connected that sent shockwaves out that ripped apart the street. They stood even for a brief second before the tiger pushed back against Pharoah. He struggled to fight against her when Bomb Bee snuck around and used Venom to paralyze him.

            Carapace dropped the shield, allowing Bloody Bug to take the necklace and break it. The Akuma flew up from the broken pendant. She caught and purified it, then grabbed her book and threw it up.

            “Miraculous!”

            The book burst into a swarm of ladybugs that repaired the damage done while Pharoah reverted to Jalil.

            “What happened? Where am I?” Jalil asked.

            “You were akumatized. I had destroyed the Tutankhamun exhibit and painted a target on myself. Now, any reason you went into that exhibit?” Bloody Bug asked.

            “I… wanted to used Tutankhamun’s scepter to perform a ritual. I hoped to prove one of my theories true, but also protect my little sister.”

            “Little sister?” the tiger asked.

            “Yeah. She had a foul run-in with that awful Chloe Bourgeois and was nearly consumed by her rage. It sent her spiraling and I just… I wanted to keep her from that happening. She was so scared of it and I hated seeing her so broken down. I felt like I couldn’t do anything when I should be able to. I’m her older brother, and I can’t do anything to help her. What good am I to her?”

            Bomb Bee started towards Jalil when Bloody Bug knelt.

            “Your sister sounds like a hard case to crack, which I can relate to. It’s not easy going through life with those challenges. She’s going to have her highs and lows as we all do, but the biggest thing you can do is just be there for her. As long as you do that, you’re doing great.”

            Jalil’s eyes widened as Bloody Bug saw a flash of recognition. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “Thank you! Thank you so much! I promise I’ll be there, always!”

            Bloody Bug chuckled nervously. She patted Jalil’s head, then pushed him away as her earrings chirped.

            “Bug, you’re about to change back,” Chat Noir said.

            “Fuck. Cat, get this man back to his home. Carapace, Bomb Bee, and Lady Tigress, move it.”

            Chat Noir watched the four of them all head in different directions. He watched the tiger, Lady Tigress, vanish before he scooped up Jalil.

            “Where am I taking you?” Chat Noir asked.

            “Uh, the Louvre.”

            “Right-o! I’ll have you there faster than you can say ‘meow.’”

~~

            Alix returned home after she gave the miraculous jewels back to Wang Fu. She managed to swing by roller derby, but she had missed practice. Her coach would have laid into her, but she explained Jalil was akumatized and she didn’t want to put the team at risk, which shut her coach up. She had checked her phone periodically on her way home to see Chat Noir had eagerly messaged her, asking about Lady Tigress. She had put her phone on silent as she ignored him, not wanting to indulge his curosity.

            Alix headed for the stairs when Alim called to her. She turned as he grabbed her shoulders and looked her over.

            “Are you ok? Are you hurt? Any injuries, bruises, or anything?” Alim asked.

            “I’m fine. It was just practice, Dad. We don’t actually hurt each other until match time.”

            “You’re talking about… derby? No, Alix, not that. I’m talking about your fight with Pharoah. You’re not hurt, are you? I saw the impact and the overall destruction of the exhibit, but-.”

            “Wait, Dad, you aren’t saying I’m Bloody Bug, are you?”

            “Alix, you can’t fool me. Well, maybe. I didn’t recognize you immediately. It was like I saw you, but it wasn’t you. It was… such a strange feeling not being able to recognize you from your face. As your father, I should, but I couldn’t. I likely wouldn’t have until you spoke. I didn’t place the voice immediately, but I know your tone and speech patterns. They’re just like your mother’s.”

            “Yeah, you can’t hide the truth from us, Alix!” Jalil yelled.

            Alix glanced over as Jalil ran down the stairs and joined the conversation.

            “I heard it too. It was harder for me to place, but I caught on once I recognized where I’ve heard such a tone before.”

            “Ah, fuck it. Fine, yes. I’m Bloody Bug,” Alix admitted.

            Jalil gasped. “We knew it! How do you do it? Did you gain them from some ancient ritual or a blessing from an old god?”

            Alix rolled her eyes and took off her cap. Jalil and Alim looked at Tikki, who was curled up taking a nap.

            “Interesting. Looks like Jalil’s theory of magic creatures might have some weight after all,” Alim mumbled.

            “Does that mean you’ll-,” Jalil started.

            “Absolutely not. Jalil, we have to keep this secret. That means no interrogating whatever this creature is or revealing any information regarding Alix’s superhero identity.”

            “So, wait, you’re not mad? And you’re not going to tell me to stop?”

            Alim sighed. “I would like to, but I know you. You listen when you want to but have developed a habit of disregarding the rules. Not all, but a lot of them. I know if I told you to stop, you’d just keep doing this. It’s how you are and how your mother was. You both are the types to learn by doing. It won’t matter how much I warn you otherwise, you’ll still do it to find out for yourself.”

            “That’s not always true. I listen to you sometimes.”

            “Yes, but would you listen to me on this?”

            “Probably not.”

            “Exactly. I don’t necessarily like it, but I can’t stop you. I want to keep you safe, but I can’t always. You’re in those stages where you are becoming your own person. As much as I’d rather shelter you, I know she wouldn’t want that. She’d have encouraged and supported you, so that’s what I’ll do. For you and for her.”

            Alix took a shaky breath. “I appreciate it, but you don’t have to do everything for her if you don’t want to.”

            Alim chuckled as a tear fell. “Well, maybe not, but it’s how I can honor her memory and wishes. To see you both happy and strong, just like she will have always wanted. For you both to live a life where you could be yourself. If being Bloody Bug is part of that for you, I will support it and you.”

            Tears fell from Alix’s eyes as she hugged Alim. “Thank you.”

            Tikki yawned and sat up. “What’s going on?”

            “Ah, she’s awake. Greetings, little creature. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Alim said.

            Tikki blinked. “Uh, Alix?”

            “They know. My voice gave it away,” Alix said.

            “Oh. Yeah, the glamor isn’t the best in this age, but we’re also not designed for this kind of environment. So, yeah,” Tikki remarked.

            “What’s the glamor do?” Jalil asked.

            “It masks our holder’s identity. The appearance is the big one, except it can’t mask the immutable like body mass and height. It can also hide the voice, but not necessarily the tone and speech. Which, I guess that’s how you figured it out, Mr. Kubdel?” Tikki asked.

            “Yes, but please, call me Alim.”

            “Well met, Alim. My name’s Tikki.”

            “Likewise, Tikki. Are you by chance hungry? Is that something you can do?” Alim asked.

            “She can and probably is. I didn’t have any extra snacks packed, so, yeah.”

            “Not to worry. I’ll help you with that. What do you eat, Tikki?”

            “Sugar. Preferably sweets.”

            “Well, that would explain the boxes I’ve been seeing from that one bakery run by Tom and Sabine.”

            “Yeah, I’ve been treating Tikki a little more. Plus, I had received a free box of macaroons from Tom last week for when Cat and I kept Marinette safe from Evillustrator.”

            “Treating me or yourself?” Tikki grumbled.

            “Hey! I get hungry too and they do have the best pastries in all of Paris. So, I’m allowed to indulge too,” Alix remarked.

            Alim chuckled. “Alright, you two. I can swing by and get some pastries for Tikki. Let you use your money on other things, Alix. Just make sure you’re still careful out there, ok?”

            “Always. Thank you, Dad.”

            Alim smiled and hugged Alix. “Always, Alix. I love you.”

            “I love you too, Dad.”

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #miraculous au #au #alternate universe #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #mlb fanfic #bloody bug au #bloody bug #alix kubdel #alim kubdel #jalil kubdel #pharoah #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #marinette dupain cheng #lady tigress #bomb bee #carapace #chat noir #tikki #wang fu #canon rewrite

[harryleatherfit]

Upper East Side || AU || Frankie Morales

Chapter 3: Guest Star

word count: 2770

warnings: abuse of weed, mom trauma, bridgerton… relationships

🪩Main Master List🪩 Series Master List🪩

—-

On a day where Laylah had her afternoon classes, you decided to walk around the New York streets alone, going into different stores and exploring. It was good for you, being able to find yourself in little slivers in this terrifying city. Raleigh could never compare to Time Square itself.

The thought of being able to reinvent yourself gave you chills. Back at home that would’ve scared the shit out of you, but this idea now makes you want even more.

Headphones in and listening to House Song by Searows, you find this cute bakery called Matildas, a croissant sounded fucking spectacular. You walk and look around, inspecting the ambiance. All the artwork and lighting finds little crevices in your heart.

An older lady comes up to the register, “How can I help you today sweetie?”

“Could I have a butter croissant and an espresso?” You ask.

“6.95, sweetheart.” She says.

You hand her the money star eyed.

“Like what you see? We just fixed it last month, we’ve gotten so much more business with this aura, younger folks like you tend to be drawn here.” She smiles.

“Yeah this place, it’s spectacular, it's like outer space. I can’t quite describe it but it’s just safe. Away from the bustling city, a hole within a hole.” You study.

“Exactly right! No one’s ever said that before, but that’s just how I feel.”

You turn to her and grab your food. “My name’s Matilda.” She says. You tell her your name and shake hands.

You take a bite of the croissant and your eyes almost roll to the back of your head.

“Well Matilda, this is about the best buttered croissant I’ve ever had, so thank you for making my day brighter.”

“Honey, would you like to work here? I say that because you have something about you, and my gut is always right.” She says.

You think about it, it's not far from your dorm, the pay wouldn’t matter. You could always get another job or sell fucking feet pics to survive here. Matilda seems to be a higher power sent to you.

“I would absolutely love to!”

------

“Laylah you wouldn’t believe it, like she just gave me the job and I gave her my number when I’m available and she immediately set everything up, I couldn't believe it!.”

Matilda said she would start you off with 20$ an hour, as shocked as you were, that money was definitely needed to stay at this school.

“Damn mama, look at you go, sugar me up sometime soon?” She asks.

“You fucking wish.” You laugh. “Wanna come on a run with me? I wanted to see if I could go all the way to the bridge and back, watch the sunset and possibly get dollar pizza.”

“Fuck yeah and we could smoke.”

“Tonight I’m good. I kinda want to go with a clear mind, smoking’s made me a little more anxious about everything. You can though, I seriously don’t mind” You reply.

“Oh baby, baby. Trust, I understand. We go with clear minds, I completely understand. No pressure, but when you do want to smoke, I’m always here too.”

This is what you loved about Laylah, she always respected what you wanted to do and vice versa. Smoking was something you loved, but you only did it on days that you could truly decompress without any worries. It was a reward for working so hard.

In high school you smoked so much, you were only sober for homework and when you fought with your mom. Smoking then saved you from reality. You’d go to class high, you go to work high, you’d take as many blinkers as you could before sleep. Just to numb the pain and sadness.

But your reality now was to be sober. It felt good. You were healing from that part of your life and you couldn't feel more refreshed.

A day you said no to weed, was the day the earth met the moon.

You both stay with each other and run to the bridge, listening to your music together watching the sunset, maybe this life wasn’t meant to be bad after all.

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

You walk into your first morning class and you see Ms. Roylance with 2 people huddled at her desk.

You recognize that hair from anywhere. It’s fucking Timothee Chalamet.

Everyone walking in is awe struck, but you all were remotely instructed to not oggle him and take a seat until class was to start. You were instructed to compose yourselfs, but you didn't expect the person Ms. Roylance was to bring in Timothee Chalamet.

Guest teachers were to happen a lot with this kind of school, and it makes sense that he’s here since he went here just some years ago.

Then the other person was… fucking Mr Morales? Didn’t he have classes?

You saw Nina in the back prettying herself up and taking pictures of TImothee, you felt embarrassed for her.

This was not the time to fuck with your head, your stomach was in shambles.

“Class class, I know this is very exciting but today I have invited Mr Chalamet to sit in on some scene work, he was once a beloved student of mine and he asked himself to come in. We have Mr. Morales is here today because we are discussing the Macbeth set. As of now I will post the audition material, slots for you to sign up, and today will serve as your workshop.” Ms Roylance explains.

He was wearing a mouth watering cardigan. How could a man so scary look so damn good in any article of clothing.

What would he look like without any clothing?

Back to class, get yourself together.

“So today we have some scenes printed out, different monologues and you will perform for us and we’ll critique. Timothee, anything to add?”

He laughs, that usual Timothee nervous laugh, “ Hey everyone, don’t be stressed at all. Pretend I’m not here. Act like we’ve been friends for years, pretend you hate me, I’m serious. I’m proud of you all for putting in the work and putting yourselves out there. We’re all proud of you.” He points at himself, Ms. Roylance and Mr. Morales.

Uh Fish, yeah not so much.

They move to the back of the room and it's you and your classmates in the middle staring at the front, preparing yourself.

“Ok we have this love scene from a new netflix show that hasn’t been released yet, it’s a loving scene at the end of the season where the pair realizes they are in utter love with each other, but watch out this ones a tear jerker! We’ll run this one a couple times just to see different versions. Any hands?”

You and Nina immediately shoot your hands up, along with some of the men, Ms Roylance pairs Nina and this kid Josh to go first, she hands them the script to go over it. Then she pairs you with Mattias.

He seemed sweet, he was in a few of your other classes so you felt like you could go over this scene pretty well.

Ms Roylance hands you the sheets, and it’s pretty long. Nina and Josh will go first and then you and Mattias. Good, being first would screw you over.

You and Mattias read over the script, being a scene for King George and Queen Charlotte, you both were intrigued. You guys also fangirled with Timothee being there, but serious enough to fully understand what this scene was asking for you guys.

There was a kiss at the end, you both being comfortable with that. This was the reality of acting. He had to make himself look disheveled, but from there you were prepared.

It was time for Nina to go and they started. Feeling the piercing brown eyes back you look down not to think of anything in the room that is happening. Mattias grabs your hand in a friendly way to encourage you.

When Nina and Josh finished you didn’t even realize, you took the whole time calming your heart and focusing on the present.

“Now Mattias’s group!” Ms. Roylance says. The whole room was looking at you both.

You had to block Mr. Morales out more than Timothee.

You heard whispers from the back and that gave you your kick to look down and immediately whip up to Mattias. You are Queen Charlotte now.

George: Charlotte, you’re not listening to me

You falter in step and seriously look him in the eye.

Charlotte: I am. I have heard that you wish I had not come. That you want me to go. That you do not want to see me. I have been suffering and alone and believing I am a failure as a wife and as your queen because you stay from me as though I am a disease. And then today, it suddenly occurred to me that perhaps there is another reason. A better reason. Perhaps you stay away from me because you care for me. Perhaps you stay away from me because you love me.

You slow your speaking pace, putting tension within your words to get Mattias’s attention. Love is serious, it ferociously hurts people, he looks sick in his heart.

George: I’m trying to protect you. I.. I cannot. We cannot… This conversation is.. I can’t do this. I never wanted to marry.

Mattias puts his hands to his chest. And stands up walking away from you, you’re searching for his eyes. Eye contact is what will kill your heart.

Charlotte: Do you love me?

George: Please, stop!

But you can’t stop, you must continue.

Charlotte: Is it because you do not believe that I could love you? I do. I love you, George. I love you so much that I will do as you wish. If you do not love me, say you do not love me and I will go. I will go back to Buckingham House. And we can live our separate lives, and I will have this baby alone, and I will make do and fill my days and survive. All on my own. I will do that. But first, you have to say that you do not love me. You have to tell me that I am utterly alone in this world.

You’re a mother, a wife, a lover, but most of all in this situation, you become home and a protector, a healer for a man that has never been taken care of. You start to tear up, as does Mattias. The emotions and words of Charlotte getting the best of you.

He stands up and gets closer to you.

Goerge: I am a madman. I am a danger. In my mind, there are different worlds creeping in. The heavens and Earth collide. I do not know where I am.

You prepare yourself for everything. You come back to reality and forget that the person you crave is watching you act? Was this how you felt about him?

Charlotte: Do you love me?

George: You do not wish a life with me for yourself. No one wishes that.

Mattias has outdone himself with this, he has made himself look helpless and broken, he looks like he is not accepting what he truly needs.

Charlotte: George!

You yell it out loud, the buzzing in the room stops, it's deafening.

Charlotte: I will stand with you between the heavens and the Earth. I will tell you where you are. Do you love me?

You feel tears trickling down.

George: I love you! From the mo.. From the moment I saw you trying to go over the wall.. I have loved you desperately. Face crumbling into emotion.

He gets closer to you, making the air feel unbreathable in the room. You’re standing there searching for the soul in Mattias’s eyes.

George: I cannot breathe when you are not near. I love you, Charlotte. My heart calls your name.

And finally Mattias kisses you. It was a good kiss, but there was so much tension, you relaxed in his hold and felt your character.

“And scene.” You say.

The whole room cheers. You’ve never felt more accomplished with your life, more than Cabaret. You search for Mr. Morales and you can’t believe he’s even cheering for you.

You immediately clear your tears up and congratulate Mattias, almost cheering that Nina looks pissed off.

The class comes to an end and as you grab your things to leave, Ms Roylance calls you over.

“Hey, that was amazing work today with Mattias, Timothee wanted to ask you about it.”

Mr. Morales was so close to you, you got goosebumps. You could imagine his arms wrapping around you, holding you so closely your hearts could feel each other.

But he never felt so far from you. He didn’t smile when you got back to them, he frowned and his eyes stayed the same, nothing furrowed in his look- he just manages to observe you. This cycle drives you crazy.

You immediately feel tired, giving all your work into that scene but you have to give Timothee your full attention.

“Mr Morales and I have to leave but you guys are free to stay here and chat.”

“Frankie it was nice seeing you man, we have to go see that show this weekend.” Timothee calls to Mr. Morales.

Frankie Morales rolls off the tongue so well.

“Kid you have to come here more there's so much to see, the boys and I want you over for drinks, just text me.” He responds.

“I’ll bet you on that old man!”

They walk out and you smile at the world star celebrity, “So Timothee Hal Chalamet, what would you like to ask?”

“Not the middle name!” He groans. “That’s just foul,”

“Not as foul as seeing your favorite actor in your AM class when you just woke up!”

“Touche.” He says back.

“I’ve seen all your movies, you’re honestly kinda why I’m even here in the first place, seeing you act made me believe I could too. The way you make people feel through the screen is what I want to do.” You mumble.

“That’s my honor.” He smiles. He gets to the point.“So what made you cry?”

You think about it for a second, was it in the moment or because you forced yourself, or because you were about to shit your pants?

“What made me cry was realizing how much Charlotte loves George no matter what, that unconditional love is so rare these days that reading the text made my brain scream. Many people will cheat on you or leave you for little things, and personally I couldn’t deal with that. Me myself, I’m pretty fucked up and if someone told me they would stand with me no matter where I was in life, I would probably raise hell and cry a lot.”

“Because you’ve never felt that before?” He asks.

“Yes because I’ve never felt that.” You look into his eyes, “Feeling for George and Charlotte in this scene ultimately made me fully consume the characters.” You finish.

“Wow, that breakdown is what a true actor does. Well done. Frankie hyped you up so much that I had to come see you.”

“What?” You ask.

“He didn’t tell you? He called me today since I was free and in the city, and he was talking about this brilliant new girl that has ‘taken the department by its feet’. I’ve in my 25 years of life heard a man talk that long about someone.” He goes on.

Frankie, Mr. Morales, was thinking about you? And to Timothee Chalamet?

“Wait, you do know that he talks about you, right?”

“Timothee, we’ve barely spoken 10 words to each other.” You respond.

“Oh shit shit, maybe I fucked up, um don’t tell him I said anything to save both our asses. But yeah he kinda just went on and on and I knew that he had some spectacular. When you were in the scene he was telling me about how serious you are with acting so I’m happy I got to see it.”

How does he know how serious you are?

“I have to run, but this was not time wasted, if you need help with anything as Frankie, or shit Mr. Morales and he can give me a holler. I need to see you in this industry soon.”

“Thank you, seriously Timothee, this means the world.” You praise him.

He leaves and you’re left in your acting class alone, with every worry in the world.

—-

previous || next

authors note- you guys don’t understand how bad I want to jump into their relationship but… you know. this is kinda a filler, but trust i want to develop this backstory really good. and of course i had to make their scene work in class be the george and charlotte scene…. that made me cry my brain out🙈🙈 don’t even @ me for putting timothée. i kinda just wrote this for myself but it’s okay don’t worry. the smut is brewing!

#fish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales au #pedro pascal #catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfics #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfics #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal hot #acting college #nyc #frankie morales x ofc #fanfiction #timothée chamalet #upper east side #musical theatre #new york city #slow burn #bridgerton #soulmate #acting #teacher x student #teacher x you #triple frontier

[revelisms]

Excerpt: Chosen Names

Powder reflects on her sense of self.

From 'in sun, I will rise,' an exploration of Jinx's early days with Sevika and Silco. Crime shenanigans and found family fluff, set after Act 1. Full story on AO3

They're a fragmented bunch, the three of them, like stained glass cobbled together: each sliver marbled with pollution, oil-slicked and wrong. Mismatched.

She hangs it in the cracked window of her heart, quietly. Some days, it catches the light.

It does so today, huddled in what was once her father's—Vander's, traitor, dead, abandoned you—what was once their bar (and now, strangely, theirs again).

The acquisition had been as simple as a band of varmints hunting out an empty space to stake as their own. She was the one who suggested it, with nervous, giddy coyness and paint-chipped nails (oh, the cleverness of her, to reclaim what should have always been)—and the idea had been a welcome one, not in small part for its seamless alignment with a ploy that had been quietly laid out for months.

Now, bowed about a clean table in what will soon become one of several convenient guises for a drug-shoveling operation, they share a breakfast of sweet stew and bread and banter, a honey-gold lamp buzzing dully above them.

Beside her, Sevika wears a scowl like something tattooed in. "Sit." Her eyes cut down to her jittering shoes, steelish points beneath the ebon frays of her hair.

She can't, really—she's been restless since setting foot here, the nice kind: every scrap of metal on the ceiling a marvel; her mind running a mile a minute, heels tapping on the floor, on the chair, her fingers a small constellation of music. The voices are quiet.

"Leave her be." In one hand, Silco nurses a coffee the Lanes affectionately referred to as aerodome fuel. He'd given it a splash of whisky and a stir of sugar, beforehand. The other presses a map of the city's waterways flat to the table's grain. He drags his finger along one inked stream, and presses it firm. "Here. This is where the sewers were barricaded before, correct?"

Sevika leans low into one elbow. "Yep. Damn Pilties closed it off, for months."

"There's an estuary, here." Silco frowns, thoughtfully. Taps his finger twice. "This is where the Barons start."

She leans in, absently, low into her own elbow, where strategies unfold in hushed bickerings—The sewers? Sevika puzzles, and Silco hums: Feed it in where all waters lead; distributions will spread overnight—but her attention is elsewhere, mostly. There's a symphony in her head. She hums it, best as she can.

"This brat," Sevika starts, nothing more than a rumbling sigh, and there's exasperation coiled into every line of her face, the start of a tirade yet to find the right venom.

The melody cracks. "Don't call me that." 

"Oh, the runt speaks." Sevika lifts a dark brow, with a touch of a smirk.

"Sevika." The name growls between them in dull, drawn-out warning, if passively. 

"What?" His right-hand knocks back into her chair. "Can't call the kid her damn name, can't call her anything else—what does she want me to do?"

Silco lifts a slow stare, then. It meanders between them. She hides from it, hands buried behind her knees; looks at the floor, at the table, at the coffee that tacks slow to the wood grain, the crease of a dark sleeve—anywhere but the eyes that study her like a specimen beneath a glass dish.

"What would you like to be called?"

The simplicity of his words freeze her to stone. She's never had to weigh the prospect of a choice, before. Her face heats in frustration. 

"I don't know," she whispers, after the silence has stretched long enough to buzz in her ears. She can feel herself start to curl in. Her nails pick at her knees. "I, um. I don't know."

The woman beside her huffs. She shoots a firey glare at her through the blue of her fringe.

"Well." Silco leans down into his elbows. "What feels like you, then?" Her eyes cut down, away, up. He's still observing her, with an unusual sort of patience. Something in the sternness of his hollow face has softened at the edges.

"I don't know," she mumbles again, slumped in her chair. "I ruin everything." She picks firmer at her knees: coils her hands to fists. A smile cracks at her lips. "They called me a jinx," she says then, and the admission spills out from her like a torrent, ripping one out after another, "that's what they always called me, and she called me—"

"She isn't here, now." His words are firm; quiet, still.

"But I am!" Her nails press half-moons into her palms. "I'm a jinx, I jinx everything, it was all because I—"

"A jinx?" The question puts a song-note on the vowels. "Is that it?"

The voices are hissing, hissing—murderer, because of you, dead because of you—and she shuffles her heel against the edge of her seat: presses her nose into one knee. They don't want you. "Yes." Sevika is staring at her too, now. She hates it. She wants to crawl into a hole, bury herself into her bones and never climb back out again.

Silco hums. "A word is only sound, child." She kneads her thumb into the edge of the table. "A jinx is a powerful thing."

The music staccatos, again. She blinks: glances up through her hair. "Not...a bad thing?"

He raises his good brow lightly—the one not scarred with grayish tissue that seeps out from his left cheek to his temple, a story behind that she has yet to be privy to, and is too afraid to ask for. "Not if you don't want it to be."

She struggles to wrap her mind around that, for a long moment. Her fingers bore themselves with the frays of her pants: raise instead for her half-eaten stew, munching on a piece of bread soaked sunset-orange with the eggy slurry. The voices aren't sure what to say. "It...it doesn't sound bad," she says, like an afterthought. "When you say it, it...sounds okay."

She has to focus on his right eye, when she looks at him—the other still unnerves her too much. It's difficult to tell whether he's pleased or simply intrigued to hear such a reaction from her—but she doesn't have long to ponder over it. He turns back to his dingy old map, with only another absent Hm; takes a bite of his own half-eaten stew, washes it down with his near-forgotten coffee. He grimaces at it. It must have turned cold. That almost makes her smile.

"Alright, then," he says at last. Sevika's eyes are on him expectantly, eager to get on with a morning still waiting to be planned. She peeks up, too. "Jinx," and it is a name, tested out with measured intention, not a scrap of scorn wrapped into the tune of it, "finish up your breakfast, now. There's a long day ahead of us."

She stares down at her bread with cotton in her lungs. He's not looking at her: he's busied, now, mental tasks already tallied, murmured to Sevika in quick delegation. The banter strikes up again, between them. 

She takes another bite of her stew, something fluttering beneath her ribs, and listens to the symphony that plays, and plays.

#fic excerpt #arcane #arcane fanfic #powder #jinx #silco #sevika #dysfunctional found family is the lifeblood of my veins #stitch voice: it's little and broken but still good #writing #in sun i will rise

[laspocelliere]

Day Four: Off the Hook

Billions of stars, hidden for decades and finally in view, cast a soft, silvery glow over Lakeland.

The Warrior of Light – newly stripped of her title, and as of yet to think of herself of anything less (or more) just yet – stood at the window of her rooms in the Crystarium, staring upwards at the tapestry of stars as one standing silent vigil. The room was quiet, and gently lit with low lanterns, giving a shadowed, peaceful air that was almost the kind of quiet darkness that she’d been missing. In the streets, the people of the city were still gathered in large clusters, staying awake as long as possible to gaze, wonderstruck, at the glories of the unblemished night sky.

It was a moment they’d been waiting for their entire lives, and she’d been able to give it to them.

And it left her more hollow than any victory ever had.

Her hands rested lightly on the cool metal rail of the windowsill, and for a long moment she stared down at them, wondering what sort of alchemy now lay hidden beneath her skin, nestling snugly somewhere between her bones and her aether. There was no discernable sign of the Light she’d consumed, but that meant little. Her mind was brought back to Estinien, long ago, and the way a moment of unguardedness – of humanity – he’d been consumed by magicks and power far beyond what any mortal was capable of handling.

Which begged the question, then. One that she’d pushed to the back of her mind many nights over the years, reluctantly submitting herself to restless sleep. 

Was she still, in fact, mortal?

What are you? Thordan’s horrified demand still haunted her memories, with that look in his eyes as he realised something both tangible and beyond her in his final moments. Her hatred – and her very personal vendetta against his actions – had drawn her blade across his damned throat, but sometimes – just sometimes – she wished she’d let him live long enough to tell her what she saw.

Needing to know if it was the same thing she saw lurking behind her eyes in her reflection, late at night when the rest of the world was abed.

Turning her hands over, the Warrior studied her palms a moment, before running her hands carefully up her own arms, feeling out familiar skin and honed muscle. Up, and up, until her arms were wrapped around her own torso. Until she was holding onto herself, tightly, like she could physically hold herself together against the onslaught of everything she’d already endured since that morning, and even further; since she’d arrived on the First.

The Exarch had claimed that he’d brought her here to defeat the Lightwardens, to use her fabled Blessing to save Norvrandt from its damned fate. He’d brimmed with apology and regret as he knelt before her, honeyed words speaking chivalry and redemption, even as he seemed to know that she would take up the mantle without question, whether he apologised or not.

All she’d heard was excuses.

It’s too much, she wanted to whisper to herself, to scream hoarsely into the infant night. Up until the moment she’d so thoughtlessly slain the Lightwarden, there had been a part of her – fragile, infinite, kept secret like an oath – that had thought she’d be able to return to the Source at any time. And, surely, that was what she kept being assured; her physical body was not tied to this place as the Scions were. She could traverse the rift, and come out unharmed.

She could have.

Before the Exarch had damned her to this suffusion of Light.

Holding herself tighter, squeezing her arms hard enough like she could draw a bruise, the Warrior closed her eyes against the darkness. It was too much of a risk, now, to return to the Source. The additional Light she’d absorbed was an unknown factor, one that had never been encountered on either shard before. What would happen if it were released on the Source? What sort of balance could she upset? Who would she endanger there, in place of the people here?

It was too much to risk. She wouldn’t do it.

I didn’t get to say goodbye, she found herself thinking, helplessly, and her resolve nearly broke at the words. 

He’ll never know what happened to me if I never come back.

The Exarch was working off of what little knowledge he had, and likely far more than he was willing to let on to her and the Scions. If this level of secrecy of his was any indication, the way he’d manipulated her into killing the Lightwarden to test his own theories, there was plenty more being withheld from her. She hadn’t trusted him when she arrived, and she trusted him all the less now. Now that he’d shown his true intentions, and how freely he played with her life and risked it for his own gain.

But at the same time, the people of Norvrandt didn’t deserve to die.

They’d had no hand in the Calamity that had befallen them, any more so than the people on the Source had been. It was for her – and people like her – to take those responsibilities, and save as many people as they could, with the resources they’d been given.

If that meant further sacrifice…then so be it. 

She could do it. The truth would come out one day, and there might yet be a way for her to safely absorb the Light and return to the Source without endangering its inhabitants in the process.

Nothing was set in stone.

She could let the Exarch and his manipulation go. For now. For the sake of this shard, and its innocent people.

For the chance to one day, maybe, go back home.

Relaxing her hold on herself, the Warrior of Darkness opened her eyes to the calm night sky beyond, drinking in a beauty that she wanted to appreciate, but couldn’t quite bring herself to in the same way the people of the First had. 

These weren’t her stars, and this wasn’t her home. But she’d save them, nevertheless. She wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if she hadn’t.

“Alright,” she breathed aloud to herself, soft as a kiss, solemn as a vow. 

Turning away from the window, she left the shutters open. If she was going to sleep, and dream, and hope – always, always hope, no matter how dark, how distant, how impossible – then she was going to do it in the starlight.

She had, after all, more than earned it.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #shadowbringers #shadowbringers spoilers #ffxiv #ffxiv fanfiction #real talk I hate everything about this #my perfectionism is really getting to me with this one #maybe one day I'll expand it further idk #it's an important part of her character development in shadowbringers but #anyway #who is she catboy lovers hate her #this one also has wolmeric if you squint

[yellowfingcr]

So she returns, the night after and the night after and the one after it, and, quickly enough, the rhythms of Heysel’s life invert. In the moonlit dark she learns with the Onyx Lord; in the sunbright light she rests- just the necessary amount- before awakening and once again sinking into her studies, rearranging notes, sharpening and shearing the contents of all the notebooks that slowly begin piling up, before dusk falls and her lessons begin anew. At first she brings the candle, to write as he speaks his strange story-formulas, always centered on a man and his easy existence in nothingness- but the orange glow is too jarring, among tales of utmost void, too inappropriate, too distracting. So the Lord tells her to ink her pages black, and offers a piece of an almost chalk that shines the gentlest silver, and from that point on her notes become rectangles of cut night skies, constellated with written words from an ancient mouth.

Days turn into weeks, weeks into months, and then such a perception of time is culled too, together with the unnecessary lines in her notes, with more and more minutes of sleep. Think of a wooden dipper, plunging and emerging from a cup of honey, the golden strand it draws from the container unsevered, rippling where it meets the surface it was once drawn from; this is how this time of learning flowed for Heysel, singular and continuous and sweet. A wholesale submersion, enacted willingly and with grand delight, because so little is more pleasurable than one point minded chase, than feeding a hunger you know will never be satisfied, and how she tends and worships this hunger. The more the abandoned shack fills with monochrome annotations the more she bends into the direction of the mystics, obsessive and overjoyed with this journey towards revelation more than the idea of revelation itself. She welcomes back smoking, her oldest and only vice. She rests less and less. Cross-legged on the splintering pavement, the tip of a swan-necked pipe between her lips, she observes the rows of papers swarming the floor before herself, rife with the mathematical and the poetic shining quiet and low in shadow, and thinks: at this point of my life, wherever it is in time, I am happy. 

One night, before daylight can blush the sky, the Lord sets his heavy hands upon his knees, and says that enough stories have been told of a man. She has been gathering enough tales on the darkest ingress and egress, enough theory of traversal, but is not, yet, prepared to do so. There remains the problem of her soft gray matter, and how easily it is startled by what it cannot comprehend. The first walk will be the hardest no matter the fact that he will be with her nor what is said or done before it happens. It would be easier, he adds, if he substituted one part of her soft gray matter with the same kind of stone that makes him, but then the stone would propagate and devour all of organic she has, and so it is not a concept he can truly propose to her, as she seems in his opinion a woman who enjoys not being a statue. Heysel, gleefully, concurs. And certainly he will shield her eyes, to both reserve the sight of what she’ll see within the portal to her first lonesome walk and to reduce the sensorial impact, but still her nerves will thrash, her mind reel and howl and agonize through the experience. So how can they solve this? Is there anything she suggests that might help? Something that diverts, that anaesthetizes?

Heysel rubs her chin, pensive. 

Heysel, killer and scholar, scarred by mad flame, always so willing to make of herself offering and knife to her intent, says: pain will work. 

Pain, he reminds her, is exactly what will happen once they step inside the corridors that are blacker than black. The enormity of it will separate her in one thousand shards. None of all they’ve done will have a sense if she shatters mid-traversing in the mind.

There is pain and pain. I know an all-unifying burning pain, she insists, something that will keep me together louder than anything that might undo me. I know this pain intimately. Beside, this will be only for the first times. It needn’t be the definitive method.

Why are you so eager to hurt? he asks, his voice riverstone smooth, all inflection sliding off it.

Heysel only answers: in my human arrogance I believe I can take it.

It is a lie so transparent they both can see the truth through it, glimmering distant for a sole moment, like shed fish scales in a pond.

And though she still explains it to him, this fire fascination and its strength, this venom seed she carries within herself and all it can do, his nod is unconvinced. But if this is what she suggests, then he will accept it, though not with gladness. It is her journey, and her choices. He is merely the compass.

So the theoretical switches into the practical. He takes her to caves within which sound dies before it is born, to make her used to the utter silence of the void, in increasing amounts, and she discovers how suffocating it is, and how every flow and beat of her body amplifies to a deafening roar in her ear in such an emptiness. She practices the art of mad flame, once in a while, just to be sure that it won’t fail her when needed, and reviews her notes, and reviews her notes.

And then, at long last, the day of her first step into the void comes. 

#er au #inside the wishing well #wow! with bonus illustration even!

[officialyourdailyinspiration]

The Circumcision at Gilgal

1 When all the Amorite kings on the west side of the Jordan and all the Canaanite kings along the seacoast heard how the Lord had dried up the water of the Jordan before the Israelites while they crossed, they lost their courage and could not even breathe for fear of the Israelites.

A New Generation is Circumcised

2 At that time the Lord told Joshua, “Make flint knives and circumcise the Israelites once again.” 3 So Joshua made flint knives and circumcised the Israelites at the Hill of the Foreskins. 4 This is why Joshua had to circumcise them: All the men old enough to fight when they left Egypt died on the journey through the wilderness after they left Egypt. 5 Now all the men who left were circumcised, but all the sons born on the journey through the wilderness after they left Egypt were uncircumcised. 6 Indeed, for forty years the Israelites traveled through the wilderness until all the men old enough to fight when they left Egypt, the ones who had disobeyed the Lord, died off. For the Lord had sworn a solemn oath to them that he would not let them see the land he had sworn by oath to their ancestors to give them, a land rich in milk and honey. 7 He replaced them with their sons, whom Joshua circumcised. They were uncircumcised; their fathers had not circumcised them along the way. 8 When all the men had been circumcised, they stayed there in the camp until they had healed. 9 The Lord said to Joshua, “Today I have taken away the disgrace of Egypt from you.” So that place is called Gilgal even to this day.

10 So the Israelites camped in Gilgal and celebrated the Passover in the evening of the fourteenth day of the month in the rift valley plains of Jericho. 11 They ate some of the produce of the land the day after the Passover, including unleavened bread and roasted grain. 12 The manna stopped appearing the day they ate some of the produce of the land; the Israelites never ate manna again. They ate from the produce of the land of Canaan that year.

Israel Conquers Jericho

13 When Joshua was near Jericho, he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him holding a drawn sword. Joshua approached him and asked him, “Are you on our side or allied with our enemies?” 14 He answered, “Truly I am the commander of the Lord’s army. Now I have arrived!” Joshua bowed down with his face to the ground and asked, “What does my master want to say to his servant?” 15 The commander of the Lord’s army answered Joshua, “Remove your sandals from your feet, because the place where you stand is holy.” Joshua did so. — Joshua 5 | New English Translation (NET Bible) NET Bible® copyright ©1996-2017 by Biblical Studies Press, L.L.C. All rights reserved. Cross References: Genesis 17:3; Genesis 18:-21; Genesis 28:16; Exodus 4:25; Exodus 12:18; Exodus 15:15; Exodus 16:35; Leviticus 23:5; Numbers 13:29; Numbers 14:29; Numbers 15:19; Numbers 26:63; Deuteronomy 2:14; Joshua 6:1; 1 Samuel 7:16; 2 Samuel 19:15; Psalm 24:10; Acts 7:33; 2 Peter 1:18

#Joshua #instructed #God #circumcise #Israel #new generation #Jericho conquered #Joshua 5 #Book of Joshua #Old Testament #NET Bible #New English Translation #Biblical Studies Press L.L.C.

[alias-sam]

Pierced by a Golden Soul

Chapter 38. Spot

Platonic Jojo's x Reader

Summary: Fate is a bizarre concept with countless more bizarre implications. In life sometimes such extraordinary events happen that the only reasoning left must be fate. The tragedies that constantly befall the Joestar bloodline for example may be the unluckiest series of cards drawn in human history, or perhaps the work of a greater power. There is no way to tell for sure. Had Dio Brando or Jonathan Joestar moved slightly on a divergent path the world itself would be left very different. The fate or luck of the noble Joestar bloodline has led to destruction of evil likes of the Pillar Men and DIO. This story is of a similar caliber to that of the other Joestars (as I am sure you are familiar with them). This is a story of lost souls, compassion, hope, and above all fate.

Word Count: 1,409

(Crosspost from Wattpad, full fic is already posted there.)

You waited expectantly outside of school, watching as fellow students left for the day. Before you knew it the courtyard was empty, and you were alone. Vita was supposed to meet you, but it seemed he was running late. By the time you were considering leaving, Vita came stumbling out of the building. His appearance was haggard at best, and drastically different from this morning. It was normal for him to walk in a wobbly and swaying manner, but as he neared where you were standing you grew increasingly worried about him.

"Hi." Vita greeted you tiredly. Now that he was standing directly in front of you it was hard to ignore how the guy looked. His clothes were covered in bright yellow splotches.

"Do I even want to know what happened to you?"

"I tripped." Vita's gaze hardened and he looked away.

"Is that all?" You asked, skeptically looking at the bright yellow stains on his shirt. "You smell like you're covered in mustard."

"I tripped." Vita repeated.

"Okay..." You responded worriedly. Vita was a weird guy, but this behavior was odd. There was obviously something bothering him, but you didn't know how to properly ask about it.

"Ready to get to work?" Your friend asked blandly, already pacing ahead.

"Ready as I need to be I guess." You shrugged impassively. "Would you wait a second though?"

"What?" Vita asked sharply. He turned around to find you rifling through your bag for something. He was confused and surprised when you pulled out a roll of gauze bandages. You held up the roll to him, but he only continued watching you puzzled.

"They aren't exactly perfect, but its better than nothing." You explained. "Clean yourself up and then we can go. I insist." Hesitantly, Vita accepted the bandages and did his best at wiping off the mess.

"Thanks."

"No problem, this is the second time today I'm using this stupid cheap emergency kit. Who knew it would come in handy like this?" After a short break and Vita thoroughly cleaning himself off the two of you continued down the street. "Mind dropping by my place real quick?"

......

Vita seemed in better spirits, but there was a distinct lack of conversation coming from your friend. He was being rather attentive towards the sidewalk. He would take larger and shorter steps to avoid cracks in the concrete.

It was a short commute from the school to your home. You were at the door before you knew it.

"By the way V..." You paused to address Vita while holding the door handle "Please... try leaving a good impression with my mom? She's never met one of my friends before."

"I'll try." Vita nodded listlessly and followed you into the bakery. Senora Jones smiled and waved upon hearing the welcome bell.

"Hey honey- oh!" She abruptly stopped with a confused expression when she noticed the tag along trailing behind you. "Who might this be?"

"Hiya Y/n's mom!" Vita suddenly lightened up, he waved at your mother emphatically.

"Hi..." You greeted your mother while studying Vita's drastic emotional shift. "This is my friend Vita." You introduced. "We were going to go work on a school project together at his house."

"Don't worry Miss. J." Vita threw an arm over your shoulders. "Y/n will be fed and returned by tonight." He flashed an uncharacteristically normal looking smile. Vita would usually grin widely, to the point you wondered if it hurt his cheeks. This time when he smiled it fit his face, but it looked forced, stiff.

"You're laying it on a little thick." You murmured.

"Hey what's over there." Vita quickly removed his hand from your shoulder and snapped his gaze over to the bakery displays. He wandered away from you to examine your mother's colorful pastries and cakes. Senora Jones' gaze shifted between you and the boy that was now busying himself with a cupcake display across the room.

"What an...interesting young man." Your mother smiled dubiously.

"He's good." You glanced over to Vita who was gazing at an orange cupcake with a very serious expression. "I promise." You said quickly. Senora Jones amusedly shook her head. "I'm just going to drop some stuff off and get the reports I need for the project. Be right back."

"Make sure to bring your umbrella!" Your mother called as you headed upstairs. "The weather report called for rain later this evening."

"Will do!" After excusing yourself you ran upstairs and dropped your backpack. As you were shuffling through the pile of papers in your desk to find the ones you needed, Golden Soul tapped your shoulder. You jumped, not having noticed your stand was even summoned. In the stand's hand was the metal sliver. "No. I'm not bringing this with me." You took the metal sliver and placed it in your desk drawer. Golden Soul didn't seem very pleased by it, but you didn't particularly care. This was one night you didn't want to be interrupted by stand business. Once you found the reports, you headed back downstairs. You abruptly stopped however after hearing unexpected laughter coming from the storefront. It was particularly confusing when you realized it was Senora Jones laughing. Cautiously you poked your head out from the kitchen only to find Vita and your mother happily conversing as your mother was boxing up a few cupcakes. "What's going on here?" You asked, gaze awkwardly shifting between your mother, Vita, and the box.

"Nothing darling." Senora Jones sang while closing the box of cupcakes and handing them to Vita. "Here, my treat."

"Awesome!" Vita held the box with wide eyes, there was an excited light in them that hadn't been there since school ended. He smiled, and this time it was the wide cheesy grin you were used to, not the fake one he plastered on earlier. "C'mon Jojo." Vita excitedly grabbed your hand as basically dragged you towards the door.

"Okay... I guess we're going." You turned slightly to Senora Jones and waved. "See you later."

"Be safe darling!" Your mother stood dumbfounded after you left, a confused eyebrow raised. "Jojo?"

......

Vita led the way during your commute to his house. He skipped through puddles a little ways ahead and you followed from a safe distance out of the splash zone. The street was mostly empty due to the overcast sky looming above the whole town. It set a humid and dreary mood for the afternoon. Eventually you found yourself near the beach, surrounded by condos and large three story houses. A strange feeling of deja vu swirled through the back of your mind as you navigated the residential area. The sensation was puzzling. You were sure you had never been to this neighborhood before.

That was until a paper pinned to a fencepost caught your attention. You stopped dead in your tracks as you read the bright red lettering.

'Lost Dog,

Name: Spot

Gender: Male

Missing since May 10, 1998'

Under the information was a picture of a vaguely familiar canine. Your stomach dropped as you read the sign and looked at the surrounding houses, the realization of where you were finally hitting you. This was the neighborhood you and Tim ran through to get to the beach. The memory of finding that dog tag in the woods flashed in your mind. You found Spot. What was left of him anyway.

"What'cha looking at?"

You screamed and turned around to find Vita hovering over your shoulder. He looked offended for a moment but brushed it off.

"Sorry." You sighed, trying to get a handle on your now pounding heart. "You startled me."

"I have a bad habit of doing that. So, what were you-" Vita stopped when he saw the sign. "Looking at." He frowned, eyes darkening when he saw the sign. From what you could tell he looked upset, but with Vita you could never be too sure.

"You okay?" You asked after a long silence from your friend.

"This has been happening lately." He started, tone serious and stiff, but with the slightest edge of sadness you could pick up on. "It started with schools of dead fish washing up on the beaches, then pets started..." Vita solemnly pointed at the front yards of several houses surrounding you. "Disappearing." Many of them had signs attached to their front fence. You were surprised you hadn't noticed them before. The sheer number of missing pets in the area made you uneasy.

"Does anybody know what's going on?"

"Nope." A long heavy silence followed the conversation. You didn't know what to think. Vita suddenly turned on his heels and started walking again. "Come on, my house is just up this street."

#adventure #anime #bizarre #fanfiction #foundfamily #genderneutral #genderneutral reader #jjba #jjba x reader #jojo #jojosbizarreadventure #jojosbizarreadventurexreader #platonic x reader #reader insert #reader x character #readerxvarious #xgnreader #x reader #platonic jojo's x reader #Poster_Addict #Alias-Sam

[bhaalbabebardlock]

Daisies on My Nightstand

Chapter 20- Vulnerable

Masterpost

AO3 Link

Summary: Ilara and Gortash start to get to know each other to work out their plan.

Always the temptress. Always the one in charge of the careful web of seduction and sweet promises of death she offered to everyone she came across. Until she had made that promise, to Raphael. The way he enjoyed watching her obey someone other than her God was almost intoxicating, his pleasure at Bhaal's irritation like a fine wine she could sip on for days and never grow bored with. It had only been him. Until now.

Her gaze slid back to Gortash, sitting across from her on the bed. She had expected him to try and seduce her, charm her, bed her, own her. She was sure he would, eventually. She could see the way his dark eyes lingered, the way his pupils dilated slightly as they traveled over her exposed, bloodied skin. For now, he had said he just wanted to talk. She didn't know what to do with that information. She didn't know what do with someone wanting to know her. Someone interested in her beyond the pleasures she could offer them before she hungrily devoured them in sacrifice. Someone interested in her beyond the slivers of her soul being fought over like carrion scraps by Gods and devils and mortals alike. She felt intrigued by his interest, finding herself drawn to him, interested in turn. She wanted to figure him out. To understand him.

"To answer your question," she finally said softly, "I like to do many things. I draw. And play the lute. I write, sometimes. What about you?" Her insides churned at the rare opportunity to offer some vulnerability, holding out those fragments she had collected of who she really was, her head burning with the knowledge that she had disobeyed. That when she returned to the temple, she would be punished for her insolence. Her mind only briefly flickered to thoughts of that impending punishment before pushing them away. She would atone later.

"I like to invent. Tinker. Make things more useful." His answer was so concise, a reflection to what he said earlier about her being of use to him. She supposed that she wasn't surprised by this answer. Something within her stirred, desperately craving more, more of what he was like. Fascinated as she was by her revulsion of her father, by her dedication to her own defiance, she couldn't help but be pulled to the parts of him that belonged to him. Not to his god. She gazed back at him, studying him closely as he did the same to her. Two wild animals, carefully observing one another, each waiting for the other to show weakness. 

She noticed that the tips of his fingers, tented under his chin, were calloused- finding herself flushing as she wondered what they would feel like against the softness of her own skin. His dark hair fell in thick strands around his face, looking as if he ran those fingers through it constantly, a carefully tousled mess. She wondered what emotions made him do that. Was it when he was irritated? Lost in thought? Was it a mindless habit?

Her eyes continued to wander, noting the way the soft candlelight reflected off the warm colors of the metal gauntlet he wore on his hand, casting shadows off the soft gold threads in his coat. She frowned slightly as she observed him, taking in these details. She could feel a hum of magic spinning through the coat, tasting it on her tongue. She held it there for a moment, trying to know what it was she was feeling.

Fear. Or rather, the lack of it. That's interesting. What did he have to be so afraid of? She cast her mind back to when she had revealed herself to him just hours ago, that apathetic look burning in his eyes counteractive to his coy smile and honeyed words. She did not fear death, as it was her closest companion. Her lover between lovers on long nights when she curled into bed alone. But he did. Enough that he had taken his fear away of anything altogether. Interesting, She thought again. What have you been through?

"Are you done staring at me?" The question sliced through her thoughts, her face smoothing from that piqued curiosity back to a mixture of trepidation and distrust. She quirked an eyebrow, tenting her own fingers under her chin and leaning towards him, unable to stop the question bubbling out of her mouth.

"What are you so afraid of?" She wondered momentarily if she shouldn't have asked the question, something so intimate. But she had never been one for being tactful, social graces forgotten behind masks carefully crafted to hide any shred of the person behind them. She could feel his closeness across the bed, the few feet between them thick with something she couldn't place. Something more than lust, which she knew.

"You are not one to hold back from what is on your mind, are you?" His voice held that weight of command, that made her want to listen to his every word, laced through with slight amusement, a brief shadow of something like irritation in his dark eyes at her observation. Perhaps he was not used to being observed. Good. He had spent long enough observing her without her knowledge. She stared back at him, enjoying the way his eyes had briefly flickered through those emotions, ending with surprise, caught off guard by her boldness before he folded them all back into that carefully studying gaze.

"Regardless, that's not for you to know, god-spawn. Not yet." She let out a soft sound of amusement, only more intrigued by the puzzle that was this man before her. She would have to try harder, if she was to understand him. That was fine. She could play that game.

"Time is precious. Why waste it with pointless drabble?" She preened silently again at that flicker of surprise, amused that she could get him to display an emotion beyond that so carefully formed apathy. 

"You aren't like other Bhaal-spawn. You see beyond the glow of your order. Your bloodlust. How? Why?" She stiffened, narrowing her eyes at him.

"That's not for you to know, Banite," she quipped back, tossing his earlier words to him. She was fascinated by the unbridled laughter that fell from his mouth. She found herself leaning forward stretching out her hand, hungrily drinking in the way his mouth crinkled at the corners, the way the wrinkles near his eyes seemed to deepen. She wanted to make him laugh again. Spend forever hearing that sound. 

She wondered briefly, for a moment , if he could be a friend. Raphael was certainly not her friend, some mockery of a master behind the master that truly held his soul between her hands. Haarlep was maybe a friend, sometimes. Their tender, soft touches when they tended to the bruises Raphael left behind were some indication of that, but that was because they were told to, she was sure. She hadn't heard laughter like that in over a year, not since the night Bhaal had reclaimed her, making her slaughter all the friends she had managed to make. Her heart beat painfully in her chest. Friends were not something she was allowed to have. She quickly pulled her hand back to her chest, folding it in her lap.

She knew when she felt the laughter bubble out of her own mouth, so caught off guard by his amusement, that she would suffer for this. That this kind of laughter was not allowed. That this sort of intimacy was the exact thing she had been warned against. She pressed her hand to her mouth, trying to suppress her giggling, amused by the difference between this and the horrid peals of deranged laughter she had indulged in so many times. This was so much lighter. 

She finally glanced back up at him after his laughter had quieted, her mind going still at the way his eyes seemed to burn into her, searing into her very core. Her eyes quickly flickered away from his intense gaze, an unidentifiable feeling turning her stomach into hot coals.

"Now you're the one staring." She felt a flicker of confusion at the look on his face, reaching up and tucking a curl of her hair behind her ear, sighing as she was reminded of the blood on her dark fingers, coloring her hair and clothes. She needed a bath, and would not get one for a long while- the heaviness of her atonement weighing up on her thoughts.

"What?" She couldn't help the flicker of irritation that threaded through her voice as her gaze slid away from her hands and back to his, to find him still staring at her.

"You're beautiful. When you laugh like that." His words sent cold tendrils of desire, of dread, of fear for him and herself up and down her spine. She didn't know what that feeling uncurling itself in her stomach was, but it was dangerous. He was dangerous. She rose to her feet, shaking her head at him.

"You would be much safer if you didn't say things like that. I should go." She studied his face carefully, watching the flicker of emotions again, her heart clenching painfully as she saw the ones she had been looking for. Desire. Longing. A deep sadness. Maybe he had just wanted connection, as much as she did. Maybe they were both lonely, just trying to carve out an existence under the thrall of gods crueler than they could have imagined in their worst nightmares. 

"You'll be back, won't you? We do have things to discuss. To plan. Getting to that crown will not be easy." She hesitated only slightly, her mind again flickering to the last time she had dared to make friends. What was one more calculated defiance? She would bring him more sacrifices to atone. She would beg his forgiveness and promise she would be good. His vanity was always the drive behind him accepting her lies so prettily.

"Yes," she found herself saying slowly. "I'll be back."

***

#ilara #durge #the dark urge #enver #enver gortash #bhaalspawn #bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic

[neuralpathway]

idk how to explain it.

#things i made #phone drawing #never drawn or studied honey before but one day i will #the gallery #honeycomb #coru #blog pin

[prodshima]

when you forget to give them a kiss

genre: fluff ft. timeskip! oikawa, tsukishima, nishinoya x f!reader

warnings: none

; anon’s req — may i pls rq oikawa w/forgetting to give him a kiss?

note: my first ever req omg thank u sm anon <3 i hope i met your expectations! also, tysm for 100 followers! im actually shedding tears rn <3

part one

oikawa tooru

the door creaking followed by thuds of leather shoes falling one after another and clothes rustling had never failed to make your heart swoon once again, the familiar sound letting you know that your husband has came back to the comfort of your home— “Y/NNNN” a loud whine breaks the once silence room as you let out a fake disappointed sigh “wow what a way to ruin the mood tooru” he erupts in giggles, making your own curve into a smile, he comes up behind you, caressing your sides “y/n? y/n? love? honey? sweetheart? darling? my hotheaded wife? can i have some kisses please “ he pouts at you, the expression that always make you give in to him, you nudge his arm lightly, still careful not to actually hurt him “go away tooru you’re sweaty and stinky” you turn around, facing him with a disgusted expression and glaring playfully at his pouting lips “y/n is this who we are? i came home tired and i don’t even get a breadcrumb of my wife’s attention?” “oh fuck you. go take a bath first and i’ll give you as much as you wa— tooru?” you blink, dumbfounded, your eyes roamed around the room, looking for the brown haired man child who had disappeared in a flash, only to hear his loud footsteps coming from the second floor, you shake your head as you laugh at his usual behavior around the house. all of your attention was now drawn to the video playing in front of you, a youtube tutorial about how to make your husband shut up homemade milk bread that you didn’t even notice the fast pace of footsteps heading towards you, making you jolt up from your feet when he rests his chin on top your head “tooru! can you at least give me a heads up?! you’re gonna give me a heart attack on one of these days” you sigh heavily before relaxing back to his touch, his fingers rubbing circles on the center of your tummy, “you said you’d give me kisses when i finish shower” he reminds “fine but wait, let me finish this vid—“ no, he doesn’t let you finish as he pockets your phone and plops you to the couch, caging you between his arms “do that later y’know i can’t sleep peacefully without your kisses” you look at him with adoration on your eyes, you decide not to tease him further, figuring out he’s need for some rest for the rest of the night as you kiss his forehead, his temple, his rosy cheeks, his nose, and his lips, the bottom jutting out in a pout you swear you saw a small smirk appear on his lips

tsukishima kei

midterms were right around the corner, the fourth semester finally coming to an end. your boyfriend had texted you earlier he’d come over to study with you for the upcoming finals so here you were, slouched against the bed with your laptop placed on your lap and papers laid all over the bedside table while tsukishima was seated beside you, phone on his hand. however, you could feel his eyes on you every minute ever since he plopped himself beside you, you shrugged it off at first, thinking he was just bored, but you were concerned on how it happened again, and again, and again, though every time you switch your gaze to his direction, he would whip his head away from you, he takes a glance and you take it as an advantage to ask him “okay tsukki what is it?spit it out” you move the laptop away from your lap, causing him to swallow audibly “it’s n—“ “don’t even try to deny it, the second we got here you kept staring at me like a prey looking out for its predator” he nips on his bottom lip as he thinks of a reason to cover up his real intentions, but you know him too well for that, every time he nips his bottom lip, he’d be forced to spill out how he wants something from you, however, this time, you want to hear it directly from his mouth but if he’s not gonna say anything then he’s not getting anything, is he? “you’re really not gonna say it? suit yourself then” you tell him, no emotion on your voice as you place your laptop back to the small breakfast table that you had used for variety of things. meanwhile, tsukishima was having a debate with himself whether he’d wait for at least six hours for you to finish or he’ll lower his ego for you to give him his kisses. he stares at you hesitantly before nuzzling his face to your neck “you didn’t give me any kisses today y/n” his voice mumbled but still remains stoic and rough, your eyes widen slightly on his confession, not expecting him to say that he wants kisses even though he acts like he doesn’t like it every time you initiate something intimate “aw my needy baby wants some kisses?” “fuck off y/n” you shush him up, threatening him how you wouldn’t give him the kisses you had forgotten to give him earlier because of tired you were. he finally gave in after minutes of teasing and of course you showered him with kisses for that! you don’t complain though as you can also take this moment as your rest from all the studying you did for the past two hours.

nishinoya yu

you stand up, clapping your hands together loudly as karasuno spikes the ball down once again, winning with a two point gap for the last set. your eyes brimming with tears when your eyes land on noya who has a big grin stuck on his face despite the tears falling down to his shoulder. nishinoya quickly scans the crowd, and when he finds you staring at him, he stares back at you with love, jumping up and down with a medal clinging on his neck, you smile back at him and wave your arms above your head as you mouth him congratulations and i love you’s. the crowd soon decreases, the gym left filled with cries and squeals of the winning team. nishinoya jumps off the chair when he sees you together with yachi, both hers and yours hands occupied with food and drinks for the whole team. you rub off your hands together when you finally finish putting down all the food you bought. like usual, you make your way to place yourself on his lap, muttering a “congratulations” and he flutters his eyes close, nestling himself on your clothed chest while you run your hands through his hair. he soon wakes up when you shake him off to get him some food, he shakes his head, tightening his hold on you “c’mon baby let’s get you some food so we can go back sooner” you pat his forearm “fine but give me a kiss first” he demands “pft no thanks you’re sweaty” “you say that now when you basically clung yourself on me earlier?” he immediately apologizes though when you glare at him. it’s afternoon now, you both bid goodbyes to his teammates and head towards the car to drive back to your house. you arrive around six pm and both of you showered (together/j) straight away when you arrived as to not dirt off any part of the house. he sees you sitting on the couch and sits down beside you as well, you look at him, beaming him a smile before glancing back to your phone, he looks at you intently and waits.. and waits.. and waits  “y/nnnn” he whines and grabs your phone in annoyance, tossing it on the opposite side of the couch before hoisting you on his lap “baby give me some of your magical powers please” you smile in knowing before peppering him with kisses <3

© all works belong to @prodshima — do not plagiarize, copy, modify, or claim my works as your own

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fics #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fanfiction #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you #oikawa x reader #oikawa scenarios #oikawa imagines #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima scenarios #nishinoya x y/n #nishinoya x you #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya scenarios

[universitypenguin]

Steve Rogers - Sex Headcanon

Warnings: Smut, Light bondage, NSFW, 18+

Word Count: Too long, as usual.

First of all, Steve Rogers loves sex. 

He’s a bit touch starved after waiting for the right woman, but when he finds you and things move into the physical affection stage, he’s all over you.

During sex, Steve loves that he can pick you up with little effort

He likes doing it against the wall

Standing, almost any position

Likes that he can hold your hips still even when you start to squirm when he hits the right spots

In general, holding onto your hips, your butt, and even when he gets to curl his hands around to grasp your inner thighs, Steve is thrilled. Captain America is an ass man.

He loves your legs too, though.

Likes to pin you down for prone bone.

He hates to admit how much using his strength against you turns him on.

But you love it too and when he realizes that you like the same positions he does, it gets more intense.

Like, he’ll pick you up while he’s standing and lift you to his shoulders, draping your legs over his shoulders to eat you out.

When Steve learns that you not only can orgasm multiple times, but that you enjoy it, he starts to let go a bit more.

At first he was careful in bed. He kept things slow and gentle, not being entirely sure of his strength. But once he gets comfortable…

He goes feral

It starts when you ask him to tie you up. The idea is only familiar to him from Tony and Thor’s jokes about 50 Shades of Gray.

Steve hates 50 Shades of Gray. He thinks Christian is an ass who doesn’t respect women.

But back to the topic: bondage. He’s willing to hear you out about why you want that. And eventually, he says yes.

The conversation about bondage goes like this:

You’ve never done bondage before. Despite having several past relationships and experiences, you’ve never trusted a man like that. Erotica tastes aside, reality is a beast of its own.

And without the feeling of complete safety that Steve Rogers inspires in your heart, you won’t have even brought it up.

But you trust him without reservations.

The idea of bondage for you is totally psychological. To have your hands restrained and be blind folded takes the pressure off of you. Sometimes your mind starts going during sex and it ruins your enjoyment.

It’s not like you’re thinking about the groceries or anything, just that you start planning your next move. Should you kiss him now, or do you need to moan louder? Does your moaning sound like a dying cat? Maybe you should keep it down.

So the blind fold is important.

And you don’t want to be able to move because you’d try to plan that too. Sometimes you put a lot of pressure on situations to be perfect. Perfect because you made it perfect, you mean. Your expectations are of yourself.

This is one reason you hate not being able to achieve orgasm. That matters to Steve a lot and he always but your pleasure first. The man is selfless and sweet. And when your mind decides to shut down the orgasm buttons, you hate disappointing him.

Steve is sold on the idea of bondage once he understands that it’s only an option because you feel safe with him. And he likes being the only person you’d trust to be this vulnerable with. All the 50 Shades objections vanish for him once you explain that part.

When you tell him that your struggles orgasming sometimes are from your own pressures to be good in bed, he gets it.

He loves that about you, your desire to please him and make things good. It motivates him to accept the offer of bondage.

Because it makes perfect sense that being forced to be the recipient and having control stripped away would fix that for you.

Steve says that you’ll have to let him make the plan. Which is *so* Steve Rogers it’s almost funny.

On a random Tuesday you get dinner with a friend and come home late. The lights are off which is weird because you expected Steve to be home. When you step inside you call out for him but no reply. Kicking off your shoes you wander to the kitchen and when you reach for the light switch, a hand grabs your wrist.

You give a small scream as a body presses you into the wall. Then you recognize the feel and the scent of his aftershave.

Steve has you pinned to the wall, wrists on either side of your head, feet spread apart and his big body caging you in.

It’s happening. It’s so happening. And you feel thrilled and scared and outrageously excited.

He’s excited too, you can feel it pressing into your back. The man’s been planning and fantasizing, clearly.

“Do you still want this, honey?”

His first words to you are the reason that you want this. It warms your heart at the same time your panties are growing wet.

“Yes, Steve. So much. Please.”

He rolls his hips, pressing his body against you and you can’t control the moan that passes your lips.

“Red means we stop. Yellow is slow down. If I’m going to do something that I think you need to consent to, I’ll ask ‘is this okay?’ and you’re going to say “Green” if you want it. Understand?

“Pick a safe word, doll.”

Eagle is your safe word. Your mind just liked the whole patriotic motif, you supposed.

Once the ground rules are laid out, Steve turns you around and with a tap on the curve of your ass, signals you to jump up.

With your legs around his waist and arms curled around his neck, he carried you upstairs to the bed.

Blindfold goes on first. Then cuffs that are lined with something soft that feels like shearling.

You know without asking that he picked them because he thought handcuffs would be too aggressive. Again, your heart flips.

“I’m going to push you, baby. I want you to wring every bit of enjoyment you can out of this. I’m going to make you come hard. You with me on that?”

You’re with him. You’ve waited a long time to try this.

“I have a plan for aftercare too,” he says.

And that’s your first hint that he’s about to go feral on you like he sometimes does when he’s keyed up from a mission.

Steve Rogers has freaking stamina for days. The man could kill you with sex if he wanted to.

(His sex drive is high… all that waiting for the right girl makes a man horny)

He undoes the halter tie of your dress and pull it down, slipping it over your legs.

He uses his mouth first. And it’s frustrating that he left your panties on. 

(The outfit was something he’d suggested. You’d thought he just liked the sundress and had been complimented when he’d said you’d look great in it today. Now it was clear he’d been planning all day. Probably longer.)

He’s been planning since the night you told him two weeks ago. Before the conversation was even over. You felt safe enough with him to ask for such a private and vulnerable fantasy and that turned him on in a mental way he can’t even explain.

So he starts by teasing you.

He kisses your mouth, slow and sensual. His tongue flicks against yours but never quite for as long as you’d like. And he knows how you like it by this point in the relationship. So you’re well aware he’s teasing you.

His mouth begins to wander to your neck and he laps at the sensitive spot. Your thighs clench in response. You’re soaked now, so wet it’s a little bit embarrassing.

He finally finds your breast with his mouth, taking an aching bud in his mouth and drawing on it. Softly. Gently. Lapping and teasing without the friction you needed to enjoy it.

Your breath came in pants now and you spread your legs to open yourself to encourage him to continue. Because there’s somewhere else that really needs attention.

Instead he turns to the other breast and gives it the same attention. Slower. And softer. Stroking with his tongue until your nipple was painfully tight.

His hand trailed up to cup the breast he wasn’t sucking on. The pad of his thumb made teasing circles and you moaned, arching your back into his mouth.

He chuckled and released the aching bud with a pop. Fingertips swirled the nipple he’d just abandoned, coating it with his saliva. He pinch it just right and your hips jerked.

Arousal was a living breathing thing inside your body now, clawing at your lower belly, turning breath into unsteady pants.

“How are you doing, baby?”

The bastard knew you were dying. Sweat was starting to burst from your pores. Your entire body was hot with need.

“Please, Steve…”

“Mmmhh? What do you need, doll?”

“I need your to touch me.”

“Where?”

“My pussy. I’m so wet for you, please touch me. Get inside of me.”

He purred. This was the moment you realized that you’d created a monster. Because he was getting off on the power play.

(This wasn’t actually when the monster was officially created. No, that would be later when you were done and he got to see your dazed face and tear filled eyes from the magnitude of what he’d drawn your body.)

He let go of the nipple and flattened his palm on your ribs, sliding it down inch by inch until he paused on your low belly.

He toyed with the band of your panties.

“You’re wet for me? Does this needy pussy want my fingers or my mouth?”

“Both!!”

He laughed again. But he went ahead, so it was worth it.

And heaven help you, there were fireworks. The bondage was working wonders for your mental need to be out of control. But Steve took it higher when he forced your legs wide and pinned them to the mattress.

And while spin class workouts did amazing things for your thighs, nothing topped super soldier strength. You were stuck. Legs pushed flat to the bed, hands cuffed to the head board and nothing stopping the extremity turned on man with his head between your legs.

He lied about giving your his mouth and fingers. At first he only used his mouth on your clit, licking around it, touching the tip of his tongue over it in slow flicks, then finally, finally, sucking.

Your body seized at the shock of pleasure, white hot and raw jerking through nerve endings frayed from lack of fulfillment.

He knew what pitch he needed to hear you moan at before he added his fingers.

He knew it because Steve Rogers is a man who studies all the angles of a situation and knows his enemy. Or in this case, knows his lover.

He rubs at your G-spot with the pad of his finger and you scream.

Your head falls back on the pillow and tears start to flow because it’s not enough.

“More, oh, please. Steve, I need-“

He growls. “I know what you need, babydoll. And I’ll give it to you when you’re a good girl and you hold back that orgasm for me. I don’t want you to come yet. Don’t you dare come. If you do I’m going to have to take you over my knee.”

Just the idea of him spanking you almost makes you lose it.

He backs off the intensity. And you start to sob from the brutal frustration of being taken so high and left without release.

His name begins to fall from your lips like a litany, as you start to beg.

“Steve! Please, I want to come!”

“Not yet. Hold back. You be my good girl and hold back. I don’t want to spank that sweet behind until it’s red, but I’ll do it.”

Your scream is gargled by a wave of pleasure that makes your whole body roll as it rips through you from head to toe.

“Let me come, damn it!”

Smack. He’s light and there’s a sting on your right inner thigh.

“Hold. It. Back!”

Screams become sobs. You can’t hold still. You’re fighting the restraints and trying to move but he’s not allowing it. All you can do is clench around his fingers and cry.

“Come for me, baby.”

Release floods you in a second when he gives permission.

The cord of tension snaps. Your muscles lock. The scream you felt building is nowhere to be found. Your voice disappears in the violence of the orgasm. It’s totally silent as your body takes control.

Your channel clamps down around his fingers. The orgasm pulses through your body like being set on fire.

Then you scream. And the muscles that had gone stiff suddenly quiver with release.

If Steve hadn’t held you down through it you’d have been snapping your hips and arching into the sensations, away from them.

He keeps going, pushing you through it until the orgasm is finished.

Then you cry.

Honestly crying, because of the intensity of the release.

You’d expected to get off. You hadn’t guessed that you would get obliterated by the world’s most intense orgasm.

Steve immediately crawls up and takes off the blind fold.

“It’s okay, doll. I’m here. You’re okay, you’re safe. Hold on to me.”

You move, trying to reciprocate when his arms go around you, but they’re still cuffed.

This makes you cry harder.

Steve rips them open, letting you free.

And then you’re in his arms and you can cry properly.

He rolls over with you in his arms, one arm tight around your waist, the other cupping the back of your head.

What shocks you is that he’s not nervous, apologizing, or asking if you’re hurt. He’s petting you and whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

“It’s okay, baby. Let it out. I’m right here, not goin’ anywhere. Hold on to me, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

The warm hand moving over your back is a delicious comfort. Almost as good as being held to the strong chest by arms thicker than most people’s legs.

When the storm of emotions passes, you blink up as Steve, a bit confused.

His smile is gentle and his eyes are filled with warmth.

“I did my research. You came down from that hard, didn’t you?”

Your answering “yeah,” is slurred.

He kisses your forehead. If you weren’t already boneless from your release, that would have finished you off.

“You were such a good girl for me. I can’t wait to do this again.”

With a tired smile you arch an eyebrow.

“But we can’t be done. I haven’t had you inside of me yet, soldier.”

Steve’s eyes go wide at the remark and you smirk.

“I still need you to fuck me, baby. I need to feel you finish on top of me and collapse into my arms. Please.”

You said please. And if he didn’t get assist a lady who needed his help, what kind of a hero was he?

#steve rogers #captain america #headcanon #smut #steve rogers smut #avengers #lemon #lemon rambles #chris evans #reader #steve rodgers x reader

[newtonsheffield]

I feel Kate in the Honey verse already feels worried that maybe Anthony doesn't see her in a physical way and isn't attracted to her. That even if they end up together she's still going to have doubts that Anthony actually wants her. I'm also guessing Anthony in this verse has been with a few women already as men his age usually sowed their oats in their Oxford days? If so that will make it even harder for kate. Aw man this Anthony will have so much to make up for once he gets Kate 😫

Man, poor Kate.

She has resigned herself to the fact that Anthony doesn't see her any differently than his sisters. No differently than he sees Edwina.

Kate wasn't sure when she realised that Anthony didn't see her as a woman. He'd come home after finishing Eton, and she'd realised that Anthony was a man now. He was charming and confident and his shoulders were broad, and his smile was devastating when he winked at her while his mother admonished him.

And when he'd left for Oxford, barely over his father's death, he'd said

"Kate, I wondered if I might take a miniature of you away with me." And her heart had hammered in her chest as she'd nodded, her voice stuttering.

"I- I had one painted for my birthday in April."

He'd smiled when he'd looked down at it. tucking it into his breast pocket. "Excellent. Now I have one of all my family."

Mary had found her crying, later that afternoon, her voice wavering when she said, "Mary, am I-? Do you think that-? Do you think that men find me... pretty?"

Mary had looked so so surprised, but not all at the same time. "Darling you're so beautiful. "

"I don't... I don't think anyone else thinks so."

"Anyone else. Are we... talking about Anthony?" Mary had said gently, wiping at her tears with a handkerchief.

Kate's fingers had twisted in her skirt "Maybe? I'm... very fond of Anthony I suppose, and I'd like it if he felt the same way. If he felt... drawn to me the way I...feel to him."

She should have felt embarrassed, to tell Mary about the tug she felt in her stomach whenever Anthony looked at her, but she'd come so far already.

Mary smiled gently, "You're only sixteen, Darling. You have so much time before you have to worry about any of this."

So Kate waited and waited. And still Anthony didn't see it.

Right up to the point where she told him she was going to London, to look for a husband.

he'd said "You're too young to get married!" and what clearer sign could there be that he'd never see her as a woman. Not in the same way he thought about the women she knew he must have dallied with. She'd heard him talking about them with the friend he brought home from Oxford one year, and she'd felt tiny, and so stupid when they'd danced together that evening, her chest against his. Dancing with her the same way he danced with their sisters.

So of course she was concerned, when they became betrothed that he might only feel some sort of emotional connection to her, that he might look at her and not feel this aching want that she felt deep in her stomach.

But honestly, that was very quickly dispelled by the fact that her new fiancè found absolutely every opportunity to spirit her away from the maid that was supposed to be chaperoning them, dragging her into his study as she left tea with his mother and sister, catching her unawares from where he'd been lying in wait. His arms wrapped tightly around her, his voice groaning in her ear while his hands, gripped at the skirt of her dress, sliding his hand up her thighs as they fell open for him.

"God, I've been thinking about you all day Kate."

And on their wedding night when he lays her down and finally they're properly husband and wife, the things he whispers in her ear make sure she's never worried again

#i'd give all i have honey #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

[spacegoldilocks]

Don’t Be Shy

Bjorn Ironside x F!Reader

Summary: Bjorn catches you having some alone time while he’s gone and decides to punish you for it a little bit.

Tags/warnings: NSFW, smut, f masturbation, edging, dom!Bjorn vibes, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), language, no use of Y/N

Word count: 2.4k

He’d been out all day and was practically running through the village to get to you. He kept thinking about how gorgeous you looked last night - how you straddled his lap, taking your pleasure from him before begging him to fuck you into the bed.

It was all he had thought about, making him lose concentration when training and almost getting knocked to the ground. And it’s still all he can think about as he rounds the corner and pushes open the door to your bedroom.

“What do you think you are doing?”

Your eyes shoot open, and you immediately shut your legs at the sound of his voice and take your hand away from between them.

“Bjorn-“

“Do not stop for me.” He muses, gazing down at your form on the bed from the doorway. He admires the thin, soft furs that are haphazardly thrown across your naked body - obscuring your chest from his view - and the way your knees are drawn up tight but clamped shut. “Show me what you were doing.”

Your husband had told you he wouldn’t be long - he was just going out to train on the outskirts of Kattegat with some of his men. But you couldn’t help yourself. You had thought about him all day and about how good and rough he was with you last night and how much you needed it from him again.

He smirks, watching you consider what he said as he crosses his arms. “Don’t be shy now, pretty girl.”

You run your hand back down your stomach and through your curls, pressing a finger through your slit to repeat your movements from earlier for him.

“Let me see you.”

You look at him - into his eyes - as you let your knees fall apart. His jaw twitches and eyes narrow as they drop from your face to your core, watching as you expose your glistening cunt to him. There’s little light in the room, and only the candles that line the walls are able to cast light anywhere, the flames basking your body in a warm glow that highlights the shine between your legs.

“So fucking wet.” He says, chewing on his bottom lip.

You slide a finger through your folds, collecting your wetness to bring it to your clit. “For you.”

His eyebrow quirks. “For me?”

You nod, then let your head settle on the plush pillows behind you.

He stays leaning against the frame of the door, and you’re all too aware that anyone could walk past and see you, they’d only have to look past the broadness of his shoulders to see your naked form in a sea of fur blankets, fingers dipping into your cunt. But, perhaps that’s why he enjoys this. And so do you. The thrill.

He watches as you work your fingers against your clit, drawing slow circles before becoming faster when you feel yourself getting closer and closer. He studies the way you throw your head back and use your free hand to play with your nipples as your hand moves frantically to seek your climax, and how your hips jolt when you find the right angle.

You’re close, and your back arches away from the bed beneath you and your hips buck against your hand as you chase and wait for your peak to wash over you. You’re close, you’re close and-

“Wait. Stop.”

You do as you're told, letting your back settle into the blankets again and looking at him for an explanation.

He pushes off of the door, closing it as he strides over to you on the bed. Your eyes follow him as he circles around the bed, lying down next to you on his side, propping his head up with his elbow.

He takes a finger, teasing it over your skin - using it to hook under the fabric thrown across your body to expose your stiff nipples to the colder air and lets his fingertip ghost over it.

“Will you do something for me?”

He watches your chest rise and fall heavily as you carefully observe the movements of his fingers. You whine a small ‘yes’.

“Touch yourself again.”

“Wh-?”

He shushes you. “Just trust me.”

You nod your head as you look into his gorgeous pleading eyes. He swiftly pinches one of your nipples as you reach a hand between your legs again.

“Good girl.” He praises, using his index finger to tilt your head to be level with his. “Now, put two fingers inside that pretty little cunt.”

You do as he says, teasing your entrance with your tips of your fingers before pushing them deep inside, letting your mouth fall open in delight.

“How does it feel?”

Your breathing becomes heavier as you start to pump your fingers, hooking them to press against that soft spot inside you. “Wonderful, my love.”

“Good - keep doing that.”

Bjorn spreads his hand across your jaw, holding you in place as he kisses you - dipping his tongue into your mouth and teasing your tongue with his own. His kisses are hot and frantic, barely giving you a chance to breathe as his lips hungrily assault yours.

Your shared room fills with wet sounds - the smack of your lips and tongues colliding, and the slick, obscene noises of your fingers pressing into your pussy.

His hand travels lower as you draw closer again, and you eagerly anticipate what he’s about to do. His fingers glide over the smooth planes of your body, creeping up to your hand that works two of your fingers into your cunt. You prepare yourself to come undone for him, but his grip suddenly becomes tight around your hand - so tight that your movements stop and you fade away from that high once again.

He takes your hand away from your core, bringing it to his lips where he takes your drenched fingers into his mouth, sucking them down to the knuckle and swirling his tongue in between them. He screws his eyes shut, savouring your flavour and mulling over your delicious taste.

You’re in awe watching him as he delights in the taste of your arousal, unable to stop the quiet remark of wonder that leaves your lips. “Fuck…”

He hums in delight as he lets your fingers leave his mouth.

Your voice is high and hoarse - croaking out your words as you come down from a second denied high. “Bjorn, what are you doing?”

He huffs a small laugh, the corners of his mouth turning up devilishly at your question. “I’m teaching you that you should only touch what’s mine when I tell you to.”

You feel your cunt clench and a new wave of arousal flood between your legs at his words. Mine. “So tell me what to do.”

His tongue comes out to wet his lips at the same time his fingers tweak one of your nipples, causing you to moan. “Put one of those fingers back.”

“Just one?”

“Just one.” He confirms.

You dip a single finger back through your folds, dodging your clit to push the pad of your digit against your opening, letting your slick ease the way for it to slip inside you. It barely satiates your burning desire - you need more. You still let out a small sob at every curl of your lone finger, but you both know you need more.

He lets you carry on, though, for a short while, until he gives in. “Another.”

You slip a second finger into your cunt, and the squelching of your pussy gets louder - filling the room will the lewdest, prettiest sounds Bjorn’s ever heard. He whispers every word against your ear, not wanting to take away from those delicious sounds. “Are you touching that spot you like?”

You cry out ‘yes’ as you curl your fingers even more to press into the place he talks about.

“Good.” His voice is low and gravelly but sweet like honey in your ears. “Add one more.”

“Bjorn-”

He gets up from your side, settling between your legs and resting his palms on the tops of your knees, inching them apart as subtly as he can manage when he wants nothing more than to force your legs apart and bury his face between them.

“I know you can do it, pretty girl.” He says, looking at you with eyes darkened by lust.

You bite down on your lip before slowly stuffing a third finger into your drenched cunt, the only resistance being from the stretch.

“Good.” You don’t see the way he starts palming himself through his trousers watching you use three of your fingers to fuck yourself, nor the way his tongue darts out to lick over his lips. “That’s good.”

You start to moan louder, and then he can’t help himself. His other hand reaches out, brushing his thumb over the peak of your clit. You jump under his touch, breaking out in goosebumps as he touches you where you crave him for the first time.

He watches your shining body convulse, signalling to him that you’re agonisingly close. He grazes the pad of his thumb over your clit a few more times before he stops - and stops the movements of your own hand too.

You look at him, silently begging him to give you your release. You see the look in his eyes that tells you he’s considering it, considering giving into your sorry, exhausted look.

You whisper his name, taking your fingers from your cunt as you plead with him.

“Let me.” He whispers back, caressing the tops of your thighs as his hand glides further towards your core.

He eases one of his thick fingers into you, stroking your walls before he adds another. You grew accustomed to three of your fingers, but two of his feels fucking perfect - much thicker and longer than yours. He works and curls them into your cunt, thrusting them into you as hard and fast as he pleases.

But he knows what he’s doing. Every time he feels you bear down on him and your walls clench around his fingers he slows. He never stops - only relaxes his pace enough for your peak to fade away as quickly as it approached. He runs his hand over your thigh as his fingers gently pet your walls.

You quickly lose count of how many times you feel the warmth settle in your stomach only to have it ripped away and be replaced with a cold sweat that makes tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

Your body trembles below him, with a damp layer covering your skin - dripping across your forehead and behind your knees.

Bjorn takes in your form, seeing the heaviness of your eyes and the way your lips part so prettily to let your rapid breaths out. He sighs, dropping lower to plant feathery kisses along your inner thigh. He keeps slowly pumping his fingers, making sure you stay wet and lovely and pliable for him.

His kisses draw nearer to your core, where his fingers work not nearly as hard as you need them to. You whimper as you feel his hot breath fan over your cunt and you jump as he touches his lips so gently to the top of your slit.

“Do you want me to let you cum?”

“Bjorn, please.” You look down at him, eyes glassy and brain fogged. “Please let me.”

“Okay.” You feel his fingers coil against that spot again, and you wrench your eyes shut. “Since you asked so nicely.”

He pumps faster - only by a mere fraction. But he dips his tongue through your folds, collecting the excess wetness there and drawing tight, slow patterns over your clit.

Your hips try to buck up, chasing whatever he gives you, but his hand comes over your abdomen to anchor you down against the bed. You’ll take what he gives you.

You think he’s going to go harder - as hard and relentless as he normally gives it to you. Only, he doesn’t. He’s slow and torturous and he makes you fucking work for it. He circles his tongue slowly and his beard scratches against the sensitive skin of your thighs and cunt as his fingers ease in and out of you.

You feel it before you even have time to tell him about it. He strokes you with his fingers and his tongue and it feels so fucking good that your toes curl as your body begins to spasm under him.

It’s too much all at once.

Your skin burns and you feel your lower muscles draw up tight and your body goes rigid. You feel the fire spread from the pit of your stomach out, taking over your entire body as he finally lets you hit your peak.

Your eyes roll back as a hoarse cry makes its way out of your throat. There’s nowhere for your hips to go with him holding them down but your back curls away from the bed with the sheer force of how hard you cum.

He hurls you through it - never relenting his assault on your pussy as his fingers pump into you and he latches onto you clit and sucks.

Your body writhes and jerks, completely under his mercy. You cry out his name, pleading with him to take it easy on you.

Bjorn, please, oh my- Bjorn.

Your hands fly down to his that lay sprawled across your stomach, tightly wrapping your hands around his fingers as your body goes tight, pulled taut like the string of a bow, and any moans or sounds you try to make get trapped at the bottom of your throat.

He eventually relents, resorting to using a single finger and gently licking his tongue through your slit.

“I think you have a few more in you.” He says abruptly. “Don’t you think?”

You blink down at him, watching as he rises to his knees and starts to unlace the ties keeping his trousers snug at his waist. He waits for you to come down from your high - waits for you to stop looking so dizzy. He slips the top of his trousers down, freeing his cock in the process and preparing to line himself up with your opening.

“Mm-hm.”

Gods, you’ll make sure he catches you more often if this is what happens.

#bjorn ironside x reader #bjorn ironside x you #bjorn x reader #bjorn x you #bjorn ironside #smut #bjorn fanfiction #vikings fanfiction #i am running with the idea that bjorn loves to edge his girl #confession time: i’m not even that hot for bjorn i just have fun writing him

[proserpina-magnus]

Regulus Black dating a muggleborn

word count: 2863

[ warning; gender neutral reader, mention of death, description of crying, angst, no happy fucking ending, swearing, mention of lap sitting (none sexual), kissing, awkward teen love, regulus is kind of edgy and a dick sometimes ]

Fanon Regulus, not Canon. This doesn't line up with anything canon! So please do not take this seriously.

- Did I say dating? I meant secretly dating.

- Regulus spotted you studying alone at a table in The Three Broomsticks, he just couldn't hide the part of him that felt an intriguing feeling towards you.

- He asked a few people around, nudging them and gesturing towards you, asking a small "who are they?"

- It took him a few days to finally get someone to answer him and once he knew your name, he knew he'd fallen into a rabbit hole. he couldn't stop thinking about you, his mind twirling around your name in a constant spiral.

- Luckily, you had been partnered with him for a potions assignment. he couldn't talk to you, he couldn't even mutter a "hi" he was so nervous.

- He had never felt this nervous feeling in his stomach, it was coming to the point it was drowning him.

- Finally, the next day during potions he was able to gain enough courage and actually talk to you about the project, though his voice sounded so mellow and drawn out, like honey.

- He didn't try to engage in conversation other than the assignment, so when you offered that you and him could go to the library and do a bit more research, he said yes almost immediately.

- You both decided to go after dinner since the library wasn't as filled in the evening.

- So when he came back to his dorm after eating, he tried to change into something more casual than his school uniform. it took him a good 15 minutes to pick what he deemed was fit for the occasion.

- He was just about ready to step out the door with his books until his dormmate said something that caught his interest.

- "you're meeting up with your potions partner, arent you?"

- "Yeah, why?'

- "Nothing, it's just their a mudblood, you shouldn't be hanging around those types of people"

- "oh... I didn't know they were a... mudblood"

- 'yeah, nasty they are. you should just ditch 'em"

- So regulus did, he ditched you. he felt guilty, leaving you all alone in the library. you must had thought he was another pureblood prick.

- His conclusion was right, you waited for a good thirty minutes for him. When you realized he wasn't coming, you just decided to do the whole project yourself, it was better if you could just get this stupid assignment done yourself so you'd both could go your separate ways.

- The next day when he got to potions class, he saw you pass in a report to Professor Slughorn. He felt his stomach drop, he knew well enough you had finished the assignment last night without him.

- After class, he caught up with you, pulling you aside as he watched you stare up at him blankly.

- "what?" you had asked him, a hand on your hip as you gave an annoyed sigh.

- "I'm sorry I ditched you, I just didn't know you were a... muggle-born" he admitted, looking anywhere but your eyes as he caught a few of Slytherin boys looking at the two of you.

- "whatever, Black"

- " you didn't have to do the whole assignment, I would have helped you."

- Your eyes met the Slytherin boys who were watching you both, you gave a pitiful frown.

- " don't worry about it, I get it. next time, just tell the professor you don't want to work with me. don't lead me on for a stupid joke"

- He didn't get to explain himself as he watched you walk away, he felt horrible. he had never felt this deep connection to someone before, it made his heart sink when he watched you turn the corner.

- A few months pass, he hadn't gotten another opportunity to talk to you again. he felt like an idiot, he had a chance and he completely blew it,

- Late at night, regulus would stare at his ceiling and dream about what would happen if he had just done what he wanted if he had gone to finish the assignment with you. You both would meet up, exchange dislikes and likes, talk about your dreams for the future.

- He couldn't focus on quidditch, it was coming more frequent of his team captain yelling at him.

- Luckily, he had gotten another opportunity to talk to you again. both of you were selected to be a part of the slug club. Regulus was going to say no, but when he heard your name get mentioned, he joined.

- The first dinner party of slug club, was like a dream. his eyes scanned over your outfit and how it looked absolutely pleasing on your body. his eyes kept siding over to where you sat and when you caught him, he would just look away.

- After a few more meetings, he was done with the 'whole looking away whenever you looked at him' ,  there were only a few more months of Hogwarts left. his eyes met yours and he didn't look away, he gave a smile.

- When you had smiled back, he couldn't help but smile a bit wider, his cheeks glowing with a red flame.

- The next meeting, you had sat next to him. it didn't take long until you both had been exchanging words and stories, laughing at jokes and giving each other shy looks.

- After a dinner meeting during slug club, Regulus offered to walk you back to your house common room. (if you are in Slytherin, then he would just walk with you till you both had to go separate ways to your dorm).

- Once you arrived at your destination, it was awkward. He looked anywhere but you, his face was hot with red as he began to get flustered.

- You had said a quiet goodbye, turning to head back to your dorm but he grabbed your hand. Holding you back as he stiffened up and asked you out.

- "will you go out with me? This weekend, it's a Hogsmeade trip, I'll pay." His words were hard, but his body language was a complete mess.

- "you're not gonna ditch me again are you?"

- "no, defiantly not ." His words had still been raw and hard, he felt like he was going to throw up butterflies.

- "I'm a muggle-born, I heard you purebloods don't really like us very much. This kind of seems like a set-up"

- God you hoped it wasn't a set-up, ever since you've sat next to regulus at the slug club meetings, he had stolen your heart.

- "It might become an issue for some... people, but it doesn't bother me much"

- Regulus was defiantly not good at phrasing things, especially romantic feelings.

- You didn't take his words too seriously, you debated for a minute. You wanted to go with him, it felt like every nerve was alive.

- "Alright, one date couldn't hurt" with your words, you leaned up to kiss his cheek.

- "goodnight Regulus" ... and then you had disappointed out of his view. Once you reached your dorm, you screamed into your pillow with excitement.

- The date went well, you both had gone to the three broomsticks sticks and sat at a table near the very back.

- You had talked about everything you could, Though he made sure to stay away from the conversation of his family. He didn't want to ruin the date by mentioning his pureblood supremacist family. It's sorta a mood killer.

- You both stayed out of busy spots, even hiding and giggling in a bush as his dorm mates passed.

- That was your first kiss with regulus, tangled in bushes and twigs as you heard footsteps fading. His lips were soft, his hand coming to rest on your cheek.

- When you pulled away, both of you were flushed and looking towards the soil. He walked you back to Hogwarts, separating ways.

- You both couldn't see each other often, only giving each other looks in class or exchanging waves when passing each other in the hallways.

- It was fine for a few months, though the secret meetings were stressful yet fun. You didn't want to hide anymore, which resulted in your first fight.

- "don't you get it? I can't be seen with you! I've told you about my family. They don't like muggle-borns, this Voldemort guy doesn't either and I can't risk exposing our relationship! You'll get hurt!"

- "I don't care if I get hurt Regulus! Our love shouldn't be hidden because your afraid of what people will think! I'm tired of this sneaking around, I'm sick of it!"

- The fighting continued for minutes, both exchanging hateful words. At one point he had said something very vial, saying he couldn't be seen with someone like yourself.

- "What is that suppose to mean?" You sneered at him, eyes tearing up as your arms crossed over your chest.

- "you know damn well what it means," he said back, quick and hard as he just glared down at you.

- You huffed, turning away as you wiped at your cheek. You turned back, shaking your head at him before disappearing out of the room.

- He stayed in the room for a while, thinking about everything. He was so angry, his veins were about to pop from frustration. He hated his family, he couldn't believe that he would lose the one he loved because of his ratchet mother and father.

- He went to Sirius, which was a first in forever. He explained everything to him, he told him how he was sneaking around with a muggle-born and how he didn't want to stop loving you.

- Sirius smirked, thinking he had finally gotten Regulus to betray their spoiled family. Sirius talked his ear off, telling him that he was glad he was gonna change himself and come join the hated family member club.

- Regulus didn't just want to leave the family, he wanted revenge.

- He disregarded Sirius, telling him to piss off and leave him alone for a while.

- The end of 6th year was coming up and Regulus wasn't given any chance to speak to you. He knew damn well you both hadn't separated, just fought. Though he laid in bed at night and worried so hard he thought his brain was gonna rot.

- On the train, he made sure to pull you into a compartment with just you and him. Shutting the blinds so no one will disturb you both.

- "Regulus I don't want to talk to you"

- "I can't meet with you or write to you all summer, I'm not putting up with this break anymore. I only have 2 hours with you and I'm not wasting it."

- "aren't you afraid you're gonna be spotted with me?" ... Regulus wasn't quite good at sarcasm (HA! As if) but he knew well enough from the tone of your voice that you weren't too happy.

- Regulus sighed hard, watching you look out the window as you played with the bottom of your shirt; tucking it in and out of your skirt/trousers (or whatever you're comfortable in).

- "I'm going to do something crazy over the summer break and I don't know if it's going to work but all I know is if I can protect you, I will."

- "regulus what are you talking about?" You asked, you felt worry build up in your stomach. You reached out, grabbing his hand.

- He instantly interlocked your fingers together, he moved to your side as he stared deep into your eyes. His eyes always looked so cold, but right now in this moment, they felt warm.

- "I love you, honestly, if I could marry you right now I would"

- He denied to speak about what he said before, he didn't give you any more information.

- Halfway through the ride, you had been positioned on his lap. His arms looped around your waist as his head rested in the crook of your neck. He let you play with his hands.

- " I love you too" you mumbled in the quiet atmosphere. Regulus held you tighter at the words.

- "hmm?" He hummed, wanting you to say those words again.

- " you told me you loved me, I didn't say it back. But I do love you regulus, I love all of you."

- Regulus felt himself smiling, he couldn't stop the wide grin as he nudged his head into yours lovingly.

- "I can't wait to see you after the summer break" you whispered to him, kissing his forehead as you felt the train start to slow down.

- Dread filled the empty spaces as you hugged each other as tight as possible, not wanting to let go.

- "it's alright, I'll see you after summer. I promise" he whispered into your ear, before bringing your lips to his and kissing one last time.

- The kiss felt like fireworks, there was so much longing and passion mixed into it you didn't want it to end.

- Sadly, the kiss ended and regulus soon disappeared in the crowd of people.

- That summer, regulus had gotten the death mark, he reeked of anger and emptiness. All he wanted was to see you again, to hold you in his arms and kiss you until you both couldn't breathe.

- He had gotten close to Voldemort, he played all the deatheaters with his fake words and praises. He had learned about Voldemort's Horcruxes.

- Regulus had sat at dinner, fork pressed into his hand as he thought hard. His love for you was so strong, he would kill for it.

- He counted down the days until summer break would end.

- 2 more weeks.... 13 days... 11 days... 8 days...

- On the 7th day before September 1st, his plan came to action. He would destroy Voldemort's Horcrux and defeat him and after, he would live 7th year in peace.

- Though his plans didn't come to a win. It stormed and rages of rain came upon him as he made his way to the cave. All he could hear was his heartbeat and the sound of rain outside, along with the padding of Kreacher feet.

- He could hear his breath, his eyes casting over every edge and dark spot. He smiled, he was going to do it, he was going to defeat Voldemort.

- "Whatever I say Kreacher, don't listen. Just keep feeding me the water"

- Kreacher grumbled, "of course, sir"

- "for you love, all for you" regulus whispered before dipping the shell into the crevasse, bringing it to his lips as he took a sip.

- Drinking the liquid felt like poison, regulus had to fight himself to not throw it up.

- The liquid was almost gone, but Kreacher had to take regulus place and force-feed him. Regulus was begging and thrashing, saying whatever came to mind.

- Regulus couldn't finish the drink, weird slimy skeletons climbed from the water surrounding them. Regulus was in a horrid state he couldn't even tell.

- When Kreacher finally force-feed him the last of it, regulus mind came to stillness. His limbs too weak, but he was able to understand that the weird-looking skeletons were not friends.

- "Kreacher, take the Horcrux and go! Hide it! Try anything to destroy it! Go!" He had yelled out, voice dry and strangled.

- Kreacher had to obey by request, he snapped his fingers and disappeared with the Horcrux.

- Regulus tried to fight, his wand shook in his hand as he casts spells after spells. It worked for a few minutes, but there was only one of him and so many of them.

- Regulus was pulled into the water, he kicked and thrashed in spite of trying to get loose. He couldn't swim even if he escaped, his eyes stared through the muddy water as his lungs filled with it.

- Regulus thought of you, your smile, the first time you kissed him, the way your hand fit in his so perfectly, the way you would send him kind eyes whenever he passed you in the halls.

- He sank, and of course his body was dead, but his mind was still there. He was barely conscious enough, but he was there. His body limp and rotten as the years pass.

- His disappearance travelled fast, you had heard first on the train.

- The first years had wondered why a a 7th year was weeping so bad that they couldn't even stand properly.

- You shook hard, gasping and not even trying to grab anything as you sank to the floor of the train. You couldn't care that people were giving you looks, your boyfriend was gone.

- Regulus was gone.

#regulus black #regulus black x you #regulus black x reader #regulus black smut #regulus black headcanon #regulus black imagine #regulus black oneshot #marauder x reader #marauder x you #regulus black x reader smut #marauder era #marauders headcanon #sirius black #regulus black x gender neutral reader #marauders headcanons #regulus black x reader headcanons #marauders angst #marauder angst #marauders era angst