#I’m literally glowing I’m so pale

[reflectionsofacreator]

“You know, it’s generally not the best idea to sneak up on a vigilante. Let alone someone like me,” Red Hood drawled as he rest his hand on his gun holster. 

The floating teenager chuckled at him, and it sounded tired. “Yeah, I’m not known for ‘em, sorry.” 

He was about the same age as the girl with the undercut, maybe around seventeen to nineteen, and the dark bags on his pale cheeks were highlighted by the glowing toxic green eyes that stared straight at him. A fringe of white hair floated around his head like it was moving through water, just barely hiding how his ears swept up into a point and when he grinned at Jason, all his teeth were pointed. He was wearing a black body suit that Nightwing would be jealous of, with white accents that highlighted his lean, masculine frame. 

“You with them?” Hood asked, and jerked his chin in the direction of the van. 

“My sisters, yeah,” the guy said with a shrug. The motion seemed a bit wrong somehow, but Jason couldn’t figure out why. “Sorry, I know I should have better manners than this, but things’ve been… uh. Bad. I meant to bring you a gift and ask if they -- if we could stay here, but uhm…” 

“A gift.” Red Hood stated, and didn’t move save to cock his head curiously to the side. 

Green Eyes rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and lifted up his other hand in a half shrug. “Sorry, I don’t really have much to offer, and I’m so sorry about messing up the vibes of your haunt. You probably felt us for hours, huh.” 

He didn’t react to that, save to let his considering noise drag through his vocoder and render it a staticky, low pitched hum. It unnerved a lot of people, but surprisingly the teen only winced and didn’t look scared. 

“Yeahhhh I was kind of afraid of that,” he huffed. “Okay. My name’s Phantom. I promise I’m not trying to mess with your haunt, I’m just… trying to keep an eye on my sisters after everything that happened. Keep em safe, you know? I swear they won’t get into trouble, we just need a place to live.” 

“What about you? You going to get into trouble?” Hood asked and shifted his stance to be about ten percent less threatening. It worked, because Phantom brightened, literally his eyes flared, and he looked a bit more at ease. 

“Me? Naw, I’m just going to haunt my sisters and that’s it. Won’t get into trouble, I promise.” 

“The fuck you mean, haunt your sisters? You some type of ghost or something?” Hood huffed. 

Phantom winced. 

“The fuck.” 

-dry wine rebirth, ch 1

Summary

Learning that the new family of maybe-metas had their dead brother for a ghostly protector was not on Red Hood's bingo sheet, and Jason getting roped into a date with one of the sisters was even less on that damn thing. But something's off with the Nightingales, they're running from something, hiding, and it was the same thing that killed their brother, Jason's sure of it - and Phantom's ominous warning that he might be next is getting under his skin.

Hm. Hm. Yeah no, I don't have a defense for this. I got sucked into this niche little crossover. I dunno how much brainspace this is gonna eat, but have what I've gotten so far.

#dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #jason todd #creator writes #fic: dry wine rebirth #dead on main

[transbunnyboi]

Idk how to state this without it sounding odd, but my boyfriend literally is so submissive and sweet and whiny in bed but if he’s feeling very dominant he’s an analog horror creature.

This happens because he is tall and pale, and his glasses reflect distant lights so they basically glow. This, coupled with the fact that he likes to fuck me sometimes when it’s completely dark in the room, is what turns him into a horror movie creature.

Anyways so that’s weird right haha what don’t ask why I’m twirling my hair and giggling and kicking my legs back and forth and blushing and

#ftm nsft #trans nsft #ftm bottom #ftm ns/fw #ftm sub #ftm puppy #bd/sm pet #breeding pet #queer nsft #monster fucker

[suguwhore]

IN ANOTHER TIMELINE? 🎐 [Suguru x NonSorcerer!Reader]

Angst/no comfort, implied major character death, canonverse, no smut, gn reader

Desc: Suguru can't make any exceptions when it comes to his new world. Not even when its his lover.

A/N: literally my first time doing this and idk if i will continue writing or not but i had to get this out of my system, enjoy <3 feedback appreciated!

Not proofread yet

The faint glow of the waning moon just might be the last light you see before you face your finality. 

Or would it be the unsettling glow of his eyes?

Your back pressed against the cold walls of the dilapidated building– your eyes darting far across the alley, scanning for any…. Any means of escape. Your breath uneven, throat dry– nobody would even hear you scream here. 

His face comes into view now, a pale imitation of your lover– your hands slightly tremble as it grasps the wall beside. You look him in the eye, feeling your heart drop with the realisation that things were gone too far now.

It’s too late….. Is it my fault?

“Love….” Suguru started speaking in his usual honeyed voice, “Love…. I have to do this. No exceptions.”

Was he as gentle to the others as well? His parents? The villagers? Or was this special weapon crafted just for you? 

“That’s what you keep saying to yourself. But you know– you know that's not true.” Your voice was high pitched, stark against the deathly silence of the night. “But you’re one of them darling, a–” his face scrunched slightly, as if disgusted or pained that he had to remind you of this crucial detail, “a monkey.”

You breathe in slowly, eyes set on the pale visage of the man you loved– the moonlight shining off his raven black hair– and for a moment you felt like you were starving for salvation and he was something holy. 

“So this is what conditions your love? And ideology? A stupid one too, in fact?” 

Maybe you weren’t quite the wordsmith, now that you're at the brink of death. Suguru’s brows knit into a soft frown, for a moment you think– This is it, this is how I go.

But he stands back, his lips tremble slightly for a quick moment. “I did– I do love you. Don’t you… don’t you want a better world? I thought you would understand– don’t you want me to be happy?” “A better world that I don’t live to see? How’s that fair?” He frowned even more, his eyes dimming. “I’m not allowed the luxury of love when the world is at stake.”

“So you’re the hero?”

“Precisely.”

“But heroes lose everything…. Suguru.”

He pursed his lips, eyes narrowing further at your words. There was the slightest hint of emotion on his face to be replaced immediately by resoluteness.

A familiar acrid smell suddenly invaded your senses, the temperature dropped as goosebumps adorned your skin. You couldn’t see it– but you knew he had summoned a curse. What a pity… you weren’t even privileged enough to see what’ll end you. 

Your time was running short, adrenaline pumping through your veins as your mind screamed at you to run– run anywhere, rationality overtaken by fear but your feet still rooted to the spot. You look at him again, his familiar presence shrouded by the peculiar clothing he donned as a mark of his new beliefs. And even then you couldn’t help but think– he looks almost divine. 

“If I have to….” his voice drawled, “I’ll be the worst person– to get rid of your kind. For the greater good.” 

That was the final nail on the coffin within which lay your last hope of convincing him otherwise. He slipped away like sand between your fingers– your desperate grasping was meaningless. 

But I still want to hold on. 

Suguru noticed your slipping form, how you seem to become smaller as the weight of your reality grew heavier on you. Your knees almost gave way. 

“I’m doing this because there’s something greater than just us. A purpose. Don’t you see the grand scheme of things? Wouldn’t you want things to be actually righ–”

“Stop lying!”

You weren’t fully in control now, your rage was bursting at the seams– ready to drown your lover in a torrential downpour of your hurt and betrayal. You were angry, you were so so angry. 

You were also so in love. 

A sob broke out, you desperately wiped away your tears. You don’t hear Suguru say anything–  or maybe he did but the ringing of your ears drowned out almost everything from your perceptions. 

A minute goes by, you don’t say anything more…. What’s the point? Your sobs get more controlled as you press yourself further against the moss covered wall. You hear Suguru tutting. “I tried to be patient with you. I thought you deserved it.”

You weren’t paying attention to his words anymore. Your heart beat was slowing down…. Or was it faster than ever? Your breath steadied….. Or were you just too afraid to breathe anymore? It almost felt like you were high, a dazed look crossed your eyes. 

Suguru scowled. Were you finally accepting your fate?

Slouching, your voice spoke to him again– faint. Defeated.

“Tell me something…..some-something Suguru. Do we… always end up like this? In every timeline?” 

The cult leader’s eyes widen at your sudden question, feeling a sharp unexplainable pain jolt his being. He gulped. 

His purpose… he had to remember his purpose. 

“Y/N-- stop this.”

Oh how he hated the way that question made him feel.

“N-no tell me…. Do we always- always end like this? Doomed to belong but never find each other? 49%.... 51%-- we never meet halfway? Or-or Like Orpheus and Eurydice…. No– no…. I’m Icarus. I’m Icarus and I’ll love you even in my demise–”

“Y/N!” 

Suguru’s voice held a newfound irritation– your words… your words were annoying, your words were like nails against a blackboard, your voice was too whiny, too desperate, you spoke like you could sway him, you were sickening, your very being was sickening and you were a plight on this world just like the other monkeys, you you you–

“I love you, Suguru.” 

A short pause.

“I love you.” 

“Just stop!”

He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about another timeline. He didn’t want to think about…. possibilities.

“Just– stop!” 

It seemed like his growing anger directly fueled his curse as you felt something suffocate you, crashing down onto you in waves and making you break out in cold sweat. You let out a small cry.

Suguru’s eyes flickered, he tried to recollect himself to not let you know of the tempest brewing inside, a constant chant of what ifs and what could have beens. But one question echoed within the walls of his conscience no matter how much he tried to stifle it– in another life, does he disappoint you again? Will you never be his again? You were perfect, only if you hadn't been a–

He looks at your cowering form, the pallor on your face, the sweat beading your forehead, your hair unkempt and your eyes bloodshot and tired. He sees you, he sees you be so miserable. He raised his hand. 

“Monkey, I’ve given you enough of my tolerance. You speak too much.”

And you were smiling....... smiling up at him– just like the day when he had first seen you as a mere teenager, the faint curl of your lips like a punchline to a grand cosmic joke. 

And then you closed your eyes. 

🦋🦋🦋

#suguru🎐 #suguru geto #jjk x reader #suguru x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto suguru x reader #x reader #jjk angst #angst no comfort

[violettduchess]

A/N: I am so happy to be able to share my gift for the lovely @ikeromantic 💜 A deep dive into your blog told me you love AUs as much as I do so I was so happy to create one for our favorite Lelouchian.

Thank you to @ikemenlibrary and @sunnyikemen for hosting and for being supportive, accommodating and all-around superstars. 💜

Clavis x Emma

Magic AU, Soulmates AU, First Kiss, Enemies to Lovers

WC: ~2k

The sun is glowing a bright lemon-yellow as Emma closes the wooden door to her shop. It’s a beautiful door, made of dark walnut and decorated with silvery moons and stars. Across the top, the words “Belle Magie” are etched into the hard wood. At night, the lettering glows a soft gold. Humming to herself, she wraps her free hand around the ornate brass doorknob and a subtle, warm orange glow emanates from her fingertips. The moons and stars flash once and she hears a satisfying, soft whoosh of magic. The door to her shop is now locked via enchantment and no one except Emma will be able to enter and poke around at all the treasures that line her shelves and counters.

Smoothing down her ochre and black robes, she carefully makes her way across the cobblestone street to the shop that is literally across from hers. Her nose wrinkles at the sign that hangs above the wooden door: “Lelouchian Enchantments” written in swirling, silver lettering that she would say is barely legible. His note, written in the same dizzying writing, is clutched tightly in her hand as she pushes open the lavender-colored door with a celestial design nearly identical to her own. But that is where the similarity ends.

Whereas Emma’s shop is neat, organized by ingredients, everything with its own place and labeled in her own very careful handwriting, his is a gigantic explosion of almost anything one can imagine. Bottles filled with liquids of all colors and bottles with questionable things floating in them, dried herbs and seeds in pots and packets, a whole section of plants that bite anyone who comes near them, not to mention odd gemstones, vibrant powders, paints and feathers. She ducks underneath the silver vines that have wrapped themselves around the wooden ceiling beams, ignoring the way they contract and rustle their leaves at her, and approaches the counter where she finds Clavis himself, carefully sorting what looks like glittery kidney beans.

“I got your missive. I believe it broke in through my window in order to deliver itself.”

At the sound of her voice, he turns, golden eyes gleaming like copper in sunlight. He wipes his hands on the folds of his pale lavender robes, grinning slowly. She is forced to admit to herself for the millionth time that Clavis is hardly unpleasant to look at, per say. But oh, how he irks her, with his smooth words, flamboyant personality and flashy enchantments. 

“Oh dearie me, when I said it was urgent, I suppose that gave it permission to cause destruction. I apologize.”

She bats away several tiny golden motes that have taken an interest in her chestnut hair and Clavis lifts his hand, wiggling his fingers in invitation. The golden pinpricks of light float towards him, circling his wrist and then solidify into a gold bracelet.

Refusing to be distracted by his tricks, she unscrolls his letter and lays it on the counter.

“Well? Where is it?”

“So impatient,” he tuts as he kneels down, lifting an ornate silver box from under the counter. It’s about the size of his hand and she can’t help but watch the way he trails his fingertips over the decorative embellishments. He has such elegant hands.

One brow arches slowly as she crosses her arms, shoving that thought away and burying it in annoyance.. “Well…..are you going to open it….?”

He sighs theatrically. “Some people have no sense of showmanship.”

Her lips quirk into a small, involuntary grin. “I’m not one of the poor suckers who come in here for your tricks and potions, Lelouch. Now open the box.”

He tilts his head, clearly enjoying how much she is trying to hide her curiosity. His hand rests on the lid of the box but doesn’t move.

“Don’t you want to know the story of how I acquired such a treasure? Why, it’s a tale of mighty heroics the likes of-”

“No. No, I do not.”

He pretends to be offended but the light in his eyes gives away the truth. 

“But it involves a goblin merchant from Benitoite and a heartsick wizard from the Jade Forest and-”

“And a dragon and a sea witch and a bloody one-eyed pegasus. Clavis, just open the box!” 

He laughs and it is the needle deflating the balloon of irritation that had overtaken her. She’s never met anyone with a laugh quite like his. It’s almost musical, but in the way of the inviting, simple melody of a children’s song. Something that stays with her, imprinting itself on her mind.

“Such an impatient pumpkin.”

“Don’t call me pumpkin.” The response is automatic, a reflex built over the long while she has known him. The first time Clavis had seen her do magic and seen the yellow-orange glow her magic emanates, he had bestowed her with that aggravating nickname.

Nimble fingers curl over the lid of the box and then he lifts it, revealing a round, milky-white stone nestled into a bed of black velvet. It reminds her immediately of the moon against a starless night sky.

She tilts her head quizzically. “This is the all-power Amor Lapis?” She had imagined something called the “Love Stone” being far more ostentatious, something pink or red and wild with sparkles. Something that would take her breath away. This stone, while pretty in its own way, looks rather ordinary.

“Such a skeptic.” He lifts the stone from its box, holding it in the palm of his hand. “It will only glow when two soulmates have found each other.” He lifts his gaze to her, his smile playful. “Know any perfect couples?”

She rolls her eyes, reaching out to touch the stone. “There’s no such thing as a perfect-” Her fingers brush Clavis’s palm and suddenly, the middle of the white stone begins to brighten, a soft glow radiating out from the center.

She jerks her hand away even as he nearly drops it. Her heart roars to life, knocking wildly around inside her chest.

Neither of them move and then, at the same time they both do, Clavis uncharacteristically fumbling to put the stone back in its box and she taking several steps back, one hand curling into the velvet folds of her cloak.

“It’s broken! It’s clearly defective!” Why does her voice sound just a bit shrill to her ears?

He clears his throat. She’s rarely seen him so rattled.

“It….oh dear…..maybe it is.” He frowns, staring down at the stone, at the dull, cream color of it, no glow to be seen. Then he draws in a breath, one that even she can hear shaking and looks at her. There is something unfamiliar in the depths of his sunrise eyes.

“We should try that again.”

“Try what again, exactly?”

“Touching.”

She should be balking at the very suggestion. 

She should already be halfway out of his crazy shop. 

She shouldn’t be stepping closer again, her gaze jumping from the stone back to him and then back again. 

And she really really should not be saying-

“Alright. To-to prove its deficiency.”

The smooth, dark counter is a barrier between them, one that feels like armor, something that will protect her although what she needs protecting from is uncertain, some nebulous thing forming on the edges of her consciousness, some unknown dream rising from the shadows of slumber.

Clavis then holds out his hand, palm up, his gaze meeting hers. Her heartbeat drums wildly through her veins, a rhythm she has never known before. Slowly she lifts her hand and places it in his. His skin is cool and smooth, soft in a way she would not have expected. Emma can feel his magic just here, flowing through him. It feels shockingly calm, not the wild chaos she thought it might be but soothing, like the scent of lavender, the soft pastels of the sky at sundown. She can feel her own magic responding, warming as it flows through her.

Beneath their joined hands, the Amor Lapis begins glowing again, a soft white light like a tiny flame igniting inside the stone. Her heartbeat roaring in her ears, she slowly withdraws her hand from his and watches as the glow dims and then, when they are no longer touching, winks off like a tiny candle snuffed out by a breeze. When Emma has gathered enough courage, she raises her gaze from the milky-colored stone to Clavis and her heart trips over its own beat. His eyes rival the glow of the stone, something new burning in their golden depths. The light of revelation. The light of truth. The light of desire.

When he finally speaks, his voice sounds soft, breathy in a way that causes Emma to bite the inside of her lip at the sound.

“Dearie me,” he murmurs, his gaze locked with hers, bright with an intensity that feels almost physical. “If that happens when we touch hands, imagine what might happen if we actually kiss.”

The word lingers between them, shimmering in the air like desert heat over sand dunes. Emma unconsciously licks her lips and Clavis’s gaze drops there, fast as quicksilver. His own lips part slightly as he stares at the full curve of her lower lip, the sweet bow of the top. His own voice, his own words, echo like thunder between them. 

….if we actually…..

….kiss….

Emma hasn't moved, hasn’t said a word, her soft eyes wide as a deer’s startled by a sudden, unexpected sound. And then he realizes what he said, what he has actually suggested and shame floods him, a tsunami of embarrassment that washes away the glimmer of hope, the clouds of desire that had overtaken him. 

What the hell was he thinking, talking like that? As if someone like her, someone so intelligent and kind and talented, someone beautiful inside and out, would ever be soulmates with someone like him. Forget soulmates, she doesn’t even like him. 

He hangs in head, soft twilight locks falling across his forehead, his knuckles white as he grips the counter with trembling hands. Stupid. Idiot. Never good enough. Never smart enough. Never ever would he be enough for someone else.

“Nevermind, I lost myself for a moment.” The words are acrid on his tongue and he feels the hot wash of color staining his cheeks and neck. “Obviously, there’s no way–”

Her hands are suddenly gripping those warm cheeks, pulling him towards her, forcing him to lean over the counter, above the stone, where she presses her lips to his. The Amor Lapis explodes with radiance, a tiny supernova encased by smooth stone. Even with closed eyes, Emma notices the brightening of the light but right now, she does not care. Because right now, she is holding Clavis’s face in her hands, and she is falling falling falling into kissing him.

At first he freezes, shock turning his blood to ice water in his veins. But then he realizes her mouth is really there, pressed against his, and then the burst of light automatically closes his eyes and the shock begins to thaw.

Now all he feels is the warmth of her kiss, the tentative movement of her lips and he gasps, reaching across the counter to touch her. Cradling each other’s face, they kiss, at first slowly, drinking in the fragile newness of the sensation, the unveiling of the truth that has been growing in both their hearts, quietly. Steadily. And then novelty slowly turns to pleasure, to desire. He grows bolder, sliding a hand down to the nape of her neck, holding her there so he can part her lips and sink into the sweet taste of her. If this is a dream, may he never wake up.

Emma sighs against him, a sound that echoes the twinkling of diamond-bright stars in a black velvet sky. All this time….all this time she’s been falling in love and never even realized it.

Minutes pass. Or maybe hours. Neither of them can say when they finally pull away from one another. Breathless, light-headed, floating, they both glance down at the Amor Lapis. The stone is luminous, glowing like a tiny moon dropped from the heavens. 

And it will continue to give off its beautiful light, for the rest of their days.

Tagging: @xbalayage @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @portrait-ninja @ikesimpleton @mastering-procrastinating @namine-somebodies-nobody @queen-dahlia @scorchieart @nightghoul381 @bubblexly

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri clavis #clavis lelouch #ikemen clavis #ikemen prince exchange #magic au #soulmates au #first kiss #enemies to lovers #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #otome fanfic #violettwrites

[doki-doki-imagines]

Okay so I’m so in love with your fics (especially the mk ones) you don’t even know how much joy they bring me!

I’m in so much pain and I’m quite literally bleeding out, so that leaves me wondering, how would the mk1 men (specifically Liu Kang and Kui Liang, but you can add anyone) react if their lover was very emotionally and physically needy when their time of the month comes around. Like would Liu and Kui use their hands as a personal heating pad? Would they let go easy on me in training? And what would happen if I over exerted myself doing daily tasks, only to be left on the verge of crying? Would they let me be as close as I can to them at night because the warmth helps me with my horrific cramps?

ANYWAY, sorry this is a bit of word vomit, but I wanna see your thoughts on this! Also idc if its just sfw, or both sfw and nsfw. (Love your work!!)

author note: you are so cute!! Feel free to ramble whenever you want, I always chat with pleasure!🫡 It's bloody week for me too, so I understand more or less your pain. Hope you'll enjoy these as much as you enjoyed my previous works! I'm still a puddle from your kind words lol

Liu Kang: "How are you, dear?" It's a rethorical question, Liu Kang knows the answer, and he doesn't like it. He had to leave you early this morning to greet and train his trainees, kissing your forehead and caressing your pelvis with his warm hand, a temporary relief, before leaving your aching body. "I'm a bit better." Liu Kang can feel the pain in your voice and sighs. You are laying on the couch, dragon shaped hot-water bottle settled on your tummy. He kneels in front of you, shiny eyes looking straight into yours. "Do you want something to eat? Maybe soup?" His left hand caresses your cheek; you must have cried from pain since it is moist. "No, just your company is going to be enough before training." He stands up, already sitting next to you, arm encircling your shoulders, making your head rest on his necknook. "No training for you today-" His plush lips kiss your temple, one hand now resting where the hot-water bottle was, tattoos glowing in the dim light of the room "Just rest, dear one." You close your eyes, finally relaxed enough to rest in the arms of your lover.

Kuai Liang: He runs to your shared room, rumours of you passing at the training ground spreading like a virus, each person it goes by making the news more virulent. "I heard there was blood anywhere." "Maybe it's an hemorrhage." "I heard doctors were desperate." This is what arrived to Liang ears, now running, face beaded in sweat and pale, so pale you could see the veins on his face. "How are you?!" The door slams open, onyx strands of hair falling from his high bun. You look at him, tears staining your cheeks, laying on the bed in fetal position. Liang runs toward you, his hand immediately on your forehead, feeling your temperature. "I don't have a fever, Liang." Your voice is barely a whisper, pain clear in your voice, not calming your boyfriend at all. "I've been told that you passed out and that you were losing a lot of blood." Liang voice is hurried, eyes still scanning your face, searching for a potential hint of your condition. You let out a chuckle, now your hands caressing his rough cheeks. "Love, I'm just menstruating." Liang sighs, head falling down, even deeper in the palm of your hands. "I was so worried for you." His eyes finally more relaxed, a smile gracing his face, but it lasts just a second, a serious expression now taking its place. "How many times I told you to take it easy when you are like this." "Many mom, you are right, won't do it anymore." You half joke, sing-sanging as best as you can, cramps still making it hard for you to fully smile. Liang pinches your cheek, laying next to you, your back touching his front, hands on your pelvis, keeping you tight against him in a warm embrace. "Grandmaster, don't you have places to go?" You ask worried, but still making yourself more comfortable in his arms. "Grandmaster had enough stress for today, now it's recharge time." He replies, head in your necknook, eyes closed before giving a butterfly kiss to your neck. Yeah, recharge time doesn't sound bad right now.

#mk x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mk scenarios #kuai liang #kuai liang x reader #mk1 scorpion #scorpion x reader #liu kang #liu kang x reader #mk x you #mortal kombat xl #mk1 x you

[seakicker]

M-maybe pierro with fertility goddess...? Pls hear me out! Since he's from khaen'riah he propably didn't believe in gods too, but after the cataclysm that left his country a ruin and killed his people, pierro found himself to be completely alone for centuries with no one to turn to

He was already old and he felt that the weariness of endless travel was getting the best of him, he wasn't the young warrior anymore that could endure everything that was thrown at him, he knew that if he continued on like this he'd die an honorless death by the hands of cold, some beast or even a bandit

And so he continued onwards until finally strength left him and he collapsed under a strangely green tree, almost heavy with its fruit but he was too weak already to even reach out to it before finally accepting his embarrassing fate

Except that when he woke up there wasn't the endless darkness he expected, there wasn't cries and flames of the abyss, no, there he was laying on something soft and warm, somethijg that was caressing his beard and sickly pale face as he groggily took everything in; he saw a bountiful lush green garden, filled with exotic greenery and animals, the soft glow of multiple candles and floating orbs of light giving the place an eternal glow in the starry night, and pierro finally looked up to see you, the most beautiful girl he ever saw and he quickly realised that the warm soft thing he was laying in was your fluffy warm lap and you were caressing his face with a soft smile on your full lips

Pierro swore that he died and this is afterlife he most certainly didn't deserve but your lovely voice assured him that no, he didn't die but when you found him under one of your shrines, the tree, he was close to it so you, as the goddess of fertility and life took the dying man in and nursed him back to health

I'm sorry for this monster but just the thought of a most revered and loved fertility goddess reader taking in cold, stoic old man pierro and saving him from death and the jester himself warming up to you and your kindness and eventually deciding that if he really was to spend eternity as an immortal there was no better place than with you, the most beautiful softest being, and even he couldn't help but desire you, eventually desperately wanting to father your babies and be the best husband/protector of his new family💕💔

I’M HEARING YOU LOUD AND CLEAR I ADOREEEE THIS OMFG don't apologize for the length of ur asks, i loooove long asks i analyze them like a school textbook fr. oh this is so good...

fem reader, reader is described as busty, curvy, and chubby, breeding, pregnancy, and lactation below! let me know if i missed a warning.

word count: 2.2K

i like to imagine fertility archon as the spitting image of so many things— aside from the obvious, of course. i feel like she just has this certain air about her that encourages comfort and absolves you of all your worries and anxieties, y'know? being around her is like sitting in front of a fireplace or wrapping a blanket around yourself; it's instant comfort and safety and it just feels like... home. you all know the phrase "they feel like home"— that's the kind of vibe i want for fertility archon reader. she just feels like home.

nobody can attest to that fact more than a man who has, quite literally, lost his home— sure, you could make the claim that a man who has no home would consider just about anything a suitable replacement, but it's not like that. it's not about clinging to a semblance of safety and security after wandering aimlessly for so long, it's not about the ol' "taking what you can get" nor is it about beggars not being able to be choosers, and it's not about desperation. amidst all his exhaustion, dehydration, starvation, and delirium, there's one thought that stands out clear as day in pierro's mind— that you're home.

that's what he felt the moment he first looked up at you from your lap, and it's what he's felt ever since. to be met with the sight of a sweet, almost... angelic (which is very high praise coming from someone from khaenri'ah, mind you) being looking down at him rather than the sight of destruction, ruin, and war came as a great relief for pierro. better yet, it's like all the pain he previously felt in his weary body has completely vanished... his joints were no longer stiff, his back no longer aching, and his head no longer pounding upon waking up again after passing out. fascinating... did you perhaps administer some first aid while he was out?

no, that doesn't seem right— there'd certainly be a bitter, medicinal taste in his mouth if that were the case, and not just from dehydration following his aimless travels and days spent with very little water available to quench his thirst. nor does he feel the stiffness of any splints supporting his weary joints— it's like he suddenly magically recovered despite being so miserable before.

well. this certainly beats being killed and looted by some common treasure hoarder taking advantage of his weary, sickly state.

most soothing and reassuring of all, however, is not the feeling of a body freed from injury and sickness, it's the hand gently caressing his face paired with the gentle humming filling his ears. a sweet lullaby, he'd imagine— though it's not one he's ever heard before, the sudden sleepiness it stirs in him (yes, despite the fact that he just woke up again) inclines him to believe it's meant to calm racing thoughts and soothe weary bodies.

"it's okay," a voice gently interrupts that humming from before. "get some more rest; i'll still be here when you wake up."

without so much as a "who are you?" mumbled from pierro, he falls asleep once more, your soft, thick thighs serving as his pillow while your deft fingers gently untangle the knots in his long, gray hair and brush softly against his cheeks. he almost seemed to be running a fever when you first found him collapsed under a tree... heatstroke, perhaps? infection? all it took was a gentle wave of your hand to free him from any and all potential diseases— such an act is child's play for the archon of fertility, prosperity, and new life. you took it upon yourself to carefully, carefully slip sips of water past his dry lips as he looked up at you deliriously, clearly on the verge of passing right out... it's a good thing your lap was there to serve as a pillow and your body as a support, otherwise he would have fallen backwards into the trunk of the tree behind him.

his broad, strong build made you hesitant to pity him as one would pity a wounded animal—clearly this man was a seasoned warrior and a veteran fighter, he doesn't need your pity even if he has seem to fallen on hard times— but even then... you couldn't stop your heart from twisting at the way he immediately melted into your lap and surrendered himself to your care. how horrible... how long has he been alone, you wondered? how long without anyone to provide him with care and love? you're thankful you found him before it proved to be too late for this mysterious man.

when pierro comes to (again), he feels even better than the first time he had awoken on your lap. as promised, you didn't move an inch, waiting for him to wake up while you continued to hum to him in his sleep and gently caress his face.

"good morning," you whisper sweetly, giggling slightly. "how do you feel?"

speech comes surprisingly easy— he would have thought that his throat would be too hoarse to speak properly, but he has no issues. "i feel well," pierro replies, glancing up at his mysterious... protector? doctor? caretaker? "and you are...?"

when you tell him your name, he's instantly reminded of all the tales he's heard of teyvat's many archons— and what a relief it would be to anyone to get discovered by the archon of fertility and not any of the rest of them... the majority of them aren't exactly known for being kind, graceful people, but you? the stories putting you as the protagonist depict you as nothing but generous, loving, and doting, providing bountiful harvests for your people, ensuring the health of families and their newborns, and staving off plague and famine with your own divine protection.

hm. it seems khaenri'ah was wrong about gods... or maybe you're the exception that proves the rule; the reason your kindness stands out so fiercely is simply because the rest of the archons just aren't kind themselves.

"—and i'll take care of you until i feel confident that you've recovered fully," you finish your introduction, smiling at him and offering him a piece of fruit from the tree above— the very same fruit he was too weak to reach up and grab at when he first stumbled upon the tree. it was so delicious and rich that it nearly caught him off guard... is this the power of the fertility archon?

days became weeks and weeks became months. sure, you believed he was well enough to venture out on his own again ages ago, but he didn't seem too concerned with leaving— where would he even go? look at where wandering around aimlessly for years on end got him last time... he would have died were it not for you, and now he's in your debt. helping out around the fields and keeping you company was the least he could do... and, if he's being honest with himself (a rarity indeed), he's come to enjoy your company. you tell fascinating stories and sing beautiful tunes he's never heard before, you prepare the most delicious food anyone alive has ever laid a lip to, and you've done so much for him out of the goodness of your heart... what a welcome change from the centuries of isolation and pain.

one thing you've noticed about pierro is that he doesn't seem to be much of a talker. you're not the type to pry into one's past or private life to begin with, but when he stiffens and presses his lips into a thin line whenever you try to ask about how he found himself collapsed and nearly on the verge of death beneath one of your trees, you drop the conversation there. it's better to mind your own business than attempt to tear up the floorboards hiding someone else's pain. all that matters is that he's safe now... and he won't have to experience that overwhelming loneliness again.

however, it seems he's stumbled upon a new conflict. no, this isn't necessarily related to the aforementioned loneliness, but perhaps that's just the point— this new conflict comes as damage control to ensure that he'll never experience that again. somewhere along the line, pierro began to view you a little less as a savior and a little more as... a woman. he knows you're an archon, truly, but to finally be in the company of someone else after so long, and someone as loving and kind as you... well. no man alive would be able to resist developing feelings. the way you sing to yourself as you stir a pot of soup cooking over a fire, the way you bring him a bowl while smiling and encouraging him to enjoy as much as he'd like, the way your hips swish so invitingly as you walk, and the memory of the way you helped him wash up when you first rescued him, too worried about his safety to leave him alone by a body of water... it's no wonder he began to desire you.

how fitting is it, then, that he first makes a move on you one day while you two are taking a walk by the very tree you first found him by? that was decades ago now; time passes so quickly for immortals... what feels like a single year the immortal is surely a century in mortal's time. the intensity of his gaze nearly made you shrink back into yourself, something no other partner you were with prior to pierro has been able to achieve. wordlessly, pierro cornered you back against the tree with a serious, sincere expression on his face— making an archon his lover? how ambitious. well, it's not like he'd be willing to let anyone else have you; in a world as vile and cruel as this one— and he's witnesses his fair share of evil and cruelty— anyone else may just take your kindness for granted. what if you saved a wandering bandit instead and he attempted to hurt you? sure, he wouldn't actually stand a chance against a literal archon, but it's about the principle of someone failing to appreciate your kindness.

and who better to appreciate it than a man who you gave everything to when he had nothing?

you instantly melt against pierro when he steals your lips in a searing kiss, gently-but-firmly pinning your wrists above your head with one of his large hands. your voice sounds just as sweet as a breathless moan of his name than it does while you're singing to him or humming a little tune to yourself— you pant and moan against his lips so invitingly it makes him wish he took you for himself sooner so he could have been hearing those sounds all this time. when he moves to lick hot lines down your neck, you gasp and press yourself harder against him— it's been a long, long time since you've had a lover; you haven't been with anyone since meeting pierro... maybe it's because you found it hard to find the time for external relationships between all the time you spent with pierro, showing him how to tend to the fields and how to prepare food, maybe it's because you didn't need anyone else, maybe it's because you knew deep down he was the perfect lover all along.

who's to say?

his hand loses its grip on your wrists as his mouth continues to travel southwards, his fingers instead finding a use by tugging the front of your dress down to expose your soft, full tits— ripe and luscious like the very fruit hanging just overhead, they fill his palms and then some just perfectly as he nips along your collarbone. even your skin tastes sweet like fresh fruit...

speaking of taste, absolutely nothing could have prepared pierro for the taste that filled his mouth once he closed his lips around one of your nipples. milk, it's milk— and it's the most delicious thing he's ever tasted. he would never say this out of concern of upsetting you, but your milk is even tastier than your cooking... which is absolutely saying a lot. you whimper and moan as he continues to drink and drink and drink from your ample breasts, periodically switching between the two to show both nipples equal amount of attention. he's not even sure why he's so surprised that you lactate— you're the archon of fertility, isn't such a thing to be expected?

the only thing that would further your image as the most beautiful and perfect depiction of fertility in all of teyvat would be the sight of you pregnant, belly round and swollen with a child while your ample, milky breasts rest on your tummy like a shelf. luckily for him, that's exactly what pierro's new plan is... to put his baby in you and finally, finally have a family of his own again. you already gave him a home, so the next logical step is to provide him a few children to help fill up the spare bedrooms, right?

you've already taken such good care of him. allow him to return the favor by taking care of you and the family you two created together.

#this ask is so overdue i sincerely apologize #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #fatui smut #fatui x reader #pierro x reader #pierro smut #fem reader #fertility archon reader #juju bakery #pierro x you #pierro x y/n #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines

[seeingivy]

mastermind 

satoru gojo x f!reader 

in which you confess to satoru that your meeting wasn’t accidental 

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

- 

You massage the serum into your face, the tips of your fingers soothing your cheek muscles - sore from smiling all night. Your boyfriend, no fianceé, Satoru, had taken you to a gala tonight, hosted by his filthy rich parents and their even worse friends. 

You knew he wasn’t a big fan of the scene, his parents strict, cold, more demeaning than most. How their son turned out to be a literal manifestation of sunshine shocks you every time you meet them again. 

After spilling coffee on him and then running into you at the dorms the next day, he said your warmth, after a lifetime of cold, drew you to him. A smile glued on your face, your hair glowing in the sun, your eyes always sparkling when you talked to him. 

“You’re the sun. To me anyways, angel.” 

You close the bottle of the serum, staring down at the engagement ring Satoru had given you a few months prior. It was simple - a sparkling diamond surrounded by a simple gold band. Your love was warm, consistent, steady. Satoru said the ring reflected that, like the moon on a dark night. He was always corny like that, calling you the sun, the moon, the stars in between. 

However, you didn’t miss Satoru’s aunt, Camilla, commenting that it was a little too dull for her liking. Satoru’s cousin, Yuki, had gotten his wife Diana a solitaire. You didn’t miss her twin sister, Cassandra, saying Satoru knew you were a gold digger, hence the need for the cheap ring, either. Satoru angrily shuffled you away before you could hear more. 

Their comments didn’t bother you. Satoru hated his parents, his family, the so-called “clan” they clung to. If they were of little importance to Satoru, they were of little importance to you. What did bother you was what Satoru had said tonight. 

He had pulled you aside, leading you to the balcony. You could feel him crushing you from behind, his chin resting against the top of your head. 

“I’m sorry, angel.” 

“Not your fault, ‘Toru. Let them talk.” 

He turns you around, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You figure this is less about you, but more about how frustrated Satoru can get with his family. You lean into his touch, rubbing circles into the small of his back. You feel him deflate against you at the motion, his forehead resting against your collarbone. 

“They’re wrong. We both know we met by fate.” 

“What?” 

“You know. You know you spilled coffee one day and then coincidentally saw me in the dorms the next day. That’s fate, angel. Invisible string, soulmates,  fate. I always knew you were the one after that.” 

You pale against him, still clutched in his embrace. Fate? That wasn’t fate. And it wasn’t really an accident either. 

“Angel, come to bed already. I miss you.” 

His voice throws you out of your thoughts, the underlying uneasiness in your chest still there. You grunt in response, leaving the bathroom and climbing into the sheets next to him. You see a smile spread over his face at the sight of you finally joining him and feel your heart twinge. Were you really lying to him? Would he hate you if you told him the truth? 

He opens up his arms, inviting you to rest against his bare chest. You nestle into his arms, your cheek pressed against his sternum. You can hear his heart beating faintly against your ear, his eyes fluttering shut. But you had to tell him. He deserved to know. 

“Satoru?” 

“Yes, angel?” 

“Do you really think we met by fate?” you whisper. 

He sits up, his hand cradling the side of your face. 

“Of course we did, silly girl.” 

“But what if it wasn’t a coincidence?”

He quirks his eyebrows, peering down into your eyes. You sit up, pulling away from him on the bed. He mimics your motion, his eyes bordering on concern as he looks into yours. 

“What if I told you it wasn’t an accident that I spilled coffee on you? Or that you saw me in the dorms the next day?” 

“What?” 

“I saw you in the coffee shop. Every day, for two weeks. I liked you. You always got the same sugary drink and apologized for asking for so many add ons, tipped extra even if they were annoyed with you, and paid for the person behind you on Friday’s. So I spilled the coffee on you. On purpose.” 

The look on his face is blank. No smile, no anger, just nothing. Fuck. 

“And then. I found your dorm. I was a Resident Advisor so I checked for you on the system. I knew your name was Satoru from the cup of the coffee so I searched through all of the Satoru’s  until I found you. I paced your hallway till you eventually left your dorm and saw me.” 

He hops off the bed, moving towards the dresser you had placed to the side of your bed. No. No. You hop off, rushing to his side. 

“Satoru, I- I wasn’t trying to be creepy, I just really cared. I knew you were the one when I saw you.” 

He shuffles through the drawers, looking for something in them. What’s he looking for? His keys? Is he going to leave? He turns to face you, the blank look still plastered on his face. 

“It’s just. No one wanted to play with me as a little kid. And no one picked me for school dances or wanted to talk to me at parties. I knew you wouldn’t come to me so I’d have to come to you. I schemed like that because I had to. I promise I wasn’t after you or your money or anything. I just really wanted you and only you.” 

You’re not sure when you started crying, but he reaches forward, his fingers wiping the tears off the side of your cheeks. You don’t miss the small smile spreading across his face. He presses your face against his chest, crushing you in a hug once again. 

“Always the crybaby, huh?” 

“Hm?” 

“I already knew that angel.” 

“Knew what?” 

“I knew that you did all that. Spilled the coffee on purpose. Came to my dorm the next day.” 

Oh my god. This bastard knew the entire time. And he’s smiling about it? He lifts your hand up and places a light blue post-it note in your hand, your handwriting staring back at you. 

Satoru Gojo. Glass Hall, Room 210. 

You remember the note now. After looking him up on the database, you scribbled the room number onto the post-it note so you could double check that you were near the right room. 

“You left that in my room when I let you in to get my number. You know, after you gave that whole winded talk about how crazy it was that we saw each other again?” 

You stick your forehead against his chest, embarrassed that you were that obvious from the start. He knew from the second you met him and kept talking to you anyways. You can feel him laughing, his hands finding their way to your hair. 

“Sorry, ‘Toru. Ruined your whole red string of fate fantasy.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, it’s not really fate is it? I was plotting like some mastermind over here to end up with you.” 

He laughs, squishing your face in his hands. You can feel your eyes still puffy from when you were crying earlier, your eyelashes wet from your tears. 

“You’re so dramatic. Mastermind?” 

“Shut up.” 

“It’s still fate, angel. You just….pulled on the red string to get me next to you faster, that’s all.” 

“That’s not how it works, Satoru.” you deadpan. 

“Okay, I’ll just mention how you were a stalker in my vows instead.” 

You frown, embarrassed at the fact that Satoru knew the entire time but that he could now tell other people too. 

“Oh my god, calm down angel. It’s cute that you did that. Really.” 

“I didn’t want to be creepy, I just knew when I saw you.” you whisper. 

“And I knew when you left that in my room. Trust me. I knew the entire time.”  

“I thought you were going to leave me if I told you.” 

“You, unfortunately, are stuck with me. Even stalking me won’t chase me away.” 

He smiles, leading you to climb back into the covers. You nestle in his arms once again, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. Only he would find your intensity endearing. Maybe he was made for you. 

-

You and Satoru make your rounds, thanking everyone for coming to your wedding. The event was small, hosted in Nanami’s garden with just twenty people in attendance. Satoru’s family was not invited, much to their dismay. 

After talking to Satoru’s students from the college, you can feel your energy dying down, your cheeks hurting from smiling so hard, talking so much, being the center of attention. 

Sensing your tiredness, Satoru drags you by the hand, to the end of the garden, towards the entrance of the hall. Propped up against the door is a white board, made by Nobara and Maki who said you simply had to have one of these at your wedding. 

The board is covered with pictures of you and Satoru - studying at the coffee shop, making breakfast together, getting engaged. But there was a new addition to the board, one you’re almost positive wasn’t there two hours ago. 

“I had it added. Don’t get mad, but I really do think it’s cute.” 

At the center of the board, Satoru had tied your little post-it note to the board with a piece of red string. Corny idiot. You turn to him, feigning an angry look. 

“Satoru.” 

“Oh, don’t be mad angel.” 

“It’s embarrassing.” 

“I’m not sure why it upsets you so much. I love it. And you.”  

You crawl under his arms, burrowing yourself in his embrace. 

“You owe me. This is still embarrassing.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll make it up to you the rest of your life, don’t you worry.”

- 

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

#jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujitsu #jujutsu satoru #satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #gojo satorou #gojo x y/n #gojo headcanons #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo #satoru fluff #satoru x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu x you #jjk #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #seeingivywrites! #read more break

[cloverdaisies]

☆*:.｡. PIECE OF STRING

☆*:.｡. a kim sunwoo imagine @:cloverdaisies

☆*:.｡.｡.:*☆☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆*:.｡. .｡.:*

description: dear sunwoo, autumn nights are always better when they’re spent with you. please don’t hide yourself, you know you’re safe with me.

member: sunwoo x you

a/n: this is a request for the lovely @from-izzy ! i loved writing this and wanted it to feel like a place of safety for you ! it’s only very short but as always my limited spare time is spent doing what i love - & that’s writing, especially for such sweet people like you <3

☆*:.｡.｡.:*☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆.｡.:*☆

There was a cute thing Kim Sunwoo did every time he got a bit shy, he’d pull the strings on his hoodie and make sure the entirety of his face had been engulfed in the fleece - just so the world couldn’t see him for a second.

You’d noticed those little things about him and wondered where he picked up that habit, he was your best friend after all so why not ask? Since every time you saw him he seemed to be drowning in the material of a hoodie no matter the season. It could be the hottest day of summer and yet still he protected himself with the comfort of a black hoodie at least 2-3 sizes above what he was.

The nights had drew in colder and darker, the trees had lost their leaves and the ground was littered in pale orange and brown leaves you kicked around with your boots as you walked up the street.

It was only 6pm and when night had taken over and it was the same time you’d go to meet sunwoo to escape the world for just a second.

“Hey.” You smiled as you heard that honey sweet voice fill your ears for the first time that day, as you saw Sunwoo wrapped in his grey hoodie, disheveled hair decorated with the prettiest grin you’d ever seen.

“Hi.” You replied as you both began to walk through the park, where sun was between setting over the horizon and the city was overlooked below, all the lights shining as ruby red and pearl white orbs in the distance.

“It’s colder than I thought it would be tonight.” You sighed as you found your classic spot between a few sparse trees laying out the blanket you both sat on every night, crossing your legs and talking about whatever you both thought put the world to right.

“That’s your fault for wearing a cardigan.” Sunwoo laughed, poking fun at your attire with that stupid smirk on his face that you just wish you could legally slap off his silly face.

“It literally was warm earlier.” You laughed and let out a relieved sigh, as your best friend’s presence just seemed to make everything bad just go away. “How are you anyway?”

“Me?” Sunwoo pointed to himself as if there was anyone else around that you could be talking to. “I’m better these days, still stressed but I guess you’re here now, so I can’t be happier.”

“That’s good, it makes me happy that you’re happy.” You smiled as he passed you an earphone, a sweet melody playing through the minuscule speakers.

The glowing moon overlooked you both through the trees, and the feelings of safety seemed to immediately wash over you - as without your acknowledgment his gaze scanned every detail of your face.

Moments like this were always the sweetest, half of the time there was no conversation, there was only a comfortable silence, where you both enjoyed the company of each other and the night. It was strange really, how the both of you just collided that way. The birds chirping in the distance, the feeling of warmth that radiated from the both of you, the safety from the nightmare of the world.

“Sunwoo?” You asked, listening to him hum in reply before you could let the curiosity get the better of you to ask. “Only reply if you feel comfortable to do so and sorry if this is a bit of an invasive question but why do you always wear hoodies? Even in the summer?”

He looked down at you for a moment, a bittersweet smile painting the features of his face, his eyes glossed like stars in a night sky, as he saw that you’d began to shiver in the cold night.

“Before I answer that, can I?” He asked opening his arms invitingly with a pinch of hesitation in his words. You smiled and nodded, leaning closer into his touch, his palm resting on your waist comfortably. Affection wasn’t peculiar between the both of you either, considering you were both single and no romance had been considered. “I wear the hoodies because I guess I don’t like the way I look without them, they make me feel like I have some sort of comfort barrier between me and the world you know?”

“What do you mean you don’t like the way you look without them? Sunwoo you’re gorgeous.” You pulled your head away from the warmth of his chest for a moment and looked at him with a puzzled look of horror.

“Uh I mean- Sorry, I’m not. I mean I would have the world in my hands if I was.” He sighed slightly, the air escaping his lips expressing some sort of disappointment with himself. His ears tinting red, as he struggled to conceal the smile that broke through his emotional defense barrier.

“What do you mean by that?” You asked residing back into the warm feeling of his chest as you felt his spine stiffen in panic.

“I guess everyone has their different version of the world, for some people their world is work, for others their world is their family and for people like me their world is the person they love.” He looked up at the sky thoughtfully, choosing his words with a careful tongue.

“I’m sure whoever it is, they’re lucky you think that.” You smiled, feeling a spear of pain impale through your lovely heart. Thoughts secretly ravaging your brain, did you love him? Are you jealous his attention lies elsewhere? Were you afraid of abandonment?

“Theoretically, imagine that person is you, what would you think? Is that too cringe, like I know I’m not the most loveab-” He began to spurt nonsense that made your brain spin in confusion or more disbelief.

“Sunwoo, if I was that person. I would think it was the most romantic, sweetest thing anyone had ever thought of me.” You pulled away from his touch, feeling slightly embarrassed you were so close to someone, who was about to break your heart.

“Okay, well it’s you.” He spoke nonchalantly, not really batting an eye to what he’d just said despite you feeling probably the most embarrassed and shy you’d ever felt.

Without anymore thoughts, you looked up to the brunette boy beside you and stared into his deep brown eyes with sincerity.

“You mean that?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows in a smitten way, praying to anything above that he’d say yes.

“Of course I do.” He whispered lowly, brushing your hair behind your ear and tracing his finger across your jaw delicately.

He brought his lips closer to yours and sealed a kiss that made the night sky sway and the stars pirouette like ballerinas on a dark stage. Destiny had rewritten itself in the most blissful way, as like the world, everyone thought of destiny differently - for you both, it lied with each other.

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz fanfic #the boyz imagines #kpop imagines #the boyz fluff #the boyz x you #tbz #sunwoo fic #tbz sunwoo #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo fluff #the boyz au #the boyz sunwoo #tbz au #tbz fic #tbz fluff #kim sunwoo #sunwoo #sunwoo fanfic #tbz x reader

[ventismacchiato]

I hope you’re doing well, could you write for Scaramouche where the reader kisses his insecurities away-

Have a good day!!

KISSING HIS INSECURITIES AWAY

a/n: hope this is sufficient 😭 can’t wait for his voice lines to be released so we have a better understanding of his character

notes: reader works for fatui

masterlist

you and scara had been together for just barely a year now, and yet, scara still didn’t quite believe it. you noticed it when he didn’t react well to your touches in the beginning, inching his cheek away or jerking his hand from yours. but as the months passed and seasons changed he slowly let you in. even if that only meant getting to hold his callused hand for an extra few seconds.

you knew of his past and knew when you should stop prying, but sometimes you wished he would let you in. you had to roll your words in your mouth to see how they feel before letting them go, just to be certain scara understood how much you cared for him and wouldn’t judge. it was a slow process, but you were willing to wait.

you were both out on a mission and had separated from your crew to let them do the dirty work, perks of being in a relationship with a harbinger was that he went easy on you. if they needed help they’d call so for the most part you and scara wandered around the premise as you both competed against each other to kill any enemies in your way.

when nightfall came you both slumped against a tree, your breath visible in the air from the cold wind. scara was beside you drawing circles in the dirt, gazing elsewhere.

his other hand was free so you reached over and laced your fingers with his. you felt his body go stiff before he let you lock your fingers with his and rub your thumb against his palm.

“why do you try?” he asks, his voice mellow.

“what do you mean?” you hum, observing the chipped nail polish you had begged him to let you do the other week.

“try with me,” he adds, “it’s pointless.”

you turned to look at him, but his eyes were still downward. the light from the moon lets you see the pale glow of his skin and the bags under his eyes.

“you’re not pointless,” you slowly say, not knowing where he was going with this.

he looks down at your interlocked hands.

“i’m holding my breath every day, waiting for when you inevitably leave.”

“i’m not going to,” you easily assure.

“that’s what everyone else said,” scara dryly laughs, voice empty, “I have no clue how to do this shit. You know I’m a literal puppet. I’m not meant to love.”

“everyone deserves a chance to be loved,” you start, pulling his palm to your lips and letting them graze his knuckles, “i’m gonna stay and show you.”

he finally turns his gaze towards you, eyeing your hand in his.

“i don’t believe you,” he says, leaning his head on bark of the tree.

“I’ll keep trying until you do,” you hum, taking your free hand and maneuvering yourself so you’re straddling his lap. one hand holding his and the other grazing his cheek.

he raises a brow at you, his other hand instinctively holding your waist.

you lean down and place a chaste kiss on each of his cheeks and watch in glee as they bloom pink. his grip on your waist hardens and you take that as an encouragement to continue. you move your lips to his jaw and leave a trail of kisses down to his chin. and finally, you give him a kiss.

at first, he doesn’t respond. but after a few seconds, he pushes you up closer to him and kisses back with more fervor. his fingers interlace with yours and you only pull back for a breath.

“believe me now?” you whisper, curling a strand of his hair behind his ear.

“i’m not sure,” he starts, “you’ll need to do it a few more time,” he adds, a sly smile upturning his lips.

you give him a half-hearted shove but ultimately fulfill his request.

a/n: hope you approved anon 💓 if anyone has requests i’ve opened them^^ ty for reading and here’s to hoping tumblr doesn’t fuck up the layout of this 🍻

#genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact au #genshin au #scaramouche #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche drabble #scaramouche fic #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x oc #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #kai requests

[somekindofpoet]

Futbol or Football?

Summary: Jenna is preoccupied with a soccer game on tv, reader interrupts

Word Count: 1.1K

A/N: Quick little one shot just for funsies because @eviekensington challenged me to do something about my boredom

“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME DUDE!”

Jenna’s voice carried through the halls of your house, shaking you from your sleep. The sun hadn’t even risen yet, and you picked your head up, bleary-eyed. The clock on your nightstand says 4:52. You frown, realizing the other side of your bed is empty and cold. 

Jenna had stayed overnight a few times in the past, but usually, you opted to stay at hers being that her schedule was insane and her house was nicer than yours. She had never disappeared on you before, though. You sit up on your elbows, still trying to rattle the sleep from your brain. You wait a moment, wondering if she’s coming back or not, listening for her voice again. 

It’s as if she knew you were listening, her voice rings out again, quieter this time but still louder than her usual tone.

“That was so NOT! Come on man he’s flopping! I'm an actor I would know!”

You swing your legs off the bed, scratching your head. Who the hell was she talking to before 5 AM? And why was she so angry with them? You pull on an oversized shirt, the hem hanging over your boxers and shuffle into the hallway. You can see part of your living room from there, the lights are off, but the pale blue glow of the tv flickers, casting shadows over the room. 

When you emerge from the hallway, you see the couch empty. Jenna is standing three feet from the wall-mounted tv, her head tilted back, watching with rapt attention. Her hands were in her hair, and she was practically vibrating. A soccer game is halfway through on the tv. The player with the ball is making a break for it, dancing around the defenders and hurtling toward the goal.

Jenna starts jumping and covers her mouth with her hands to scream into them. You laugh, knowing she’d done it so she wouldn’t wake you. Mission failed on her part. The player pops off a shot, the ball soaring past the goalie’s outstretched hands and into the back of the net, sending Jenna into an all out frenzy. She’s jumping and dancing and fist pumping. She’s in the middle of a jump spin move when she sees you standing just outside the hallway, sleep mussed hair and a half smile on your face. 

She halts her celebration with wide eyes and covers her mouth with her hands again. It makes you chuckle, she’s slightly embarrassed.

“Oh my god, did I wake you up?”

You nod, yawning. 

“Shit,” she says, walking over to you, “I was trying so hard to be quiet too.”

You lean down and kiss her forehead, smiling sleepily. “S’okay.”

The crowd on the tv roars, and Jenna jerks her head back around to see the commotion. It’s just a replay, and she relaxes, realizing she hasn’t missed anything. 

“Messi is a literal god. Did you see that goal he just scored? I swear, I’m another life…”

“Hey!” You chirp, cutting off her Messi thirst.

She gives you a sly smile, “Don’t worry baby, there’s enough of me to go around.”

You gasp and pick her up in a bear hug, lifting her off her feet to throw her over your shoulder. She’s so tiny, it doesn’t take much effort. This was a game the two of you played often. Her smart mouth would fire off some sarcastic remark or lousy joke, and you would hoist her up until she apologized or admitted the joke was terrible. 

“No no no I can’t see the game! If you’re gonna manhandle me at least turn around so I can see!”

You laugh softly, “You think you deserve to see it after that lame ass joke?”

She sighs and goes limp, her arms hanging down your back and her head resting between your shoulders. She’s gone deadweight, making her far more difficult to hold. An expert tactic she’d recently picked up. You grunt under her weight, but you’re not ready to give up yet.

She mumbles something into your back but you can’t hear her. You turn your head to look over the shoulder she’s not on, trying to hear better. “What was that?”

She lifts her head and rests her elbows on your back, propping her face in her hands. “I said, you’re right.” She pauses, her muscles tensing, warning you she’s getting ready to attempt to squirm her way off your shoulder. “I’d go with Messi.”

“Oh really?” You say, fighting back your smile. 

You walk over to the couch and toss her onto it, jumping on top of her as she bounces on the cushions. You’re both laughing far too hard for anyone at 5 in the morning. You pin her down and start to tickle her as she twists around under your weight, trying to escape.

“The game!” She cries, laughing and trying to turn her head to see the tv, “You’re making me miss the game!” 

“Say Uncle!” You say as you continue your onslaught of tickling her.

She’s gasping for air between laughs, still trying to fight you. Finally, she gives up and cries out, “Okay okay! It was a terrible joke, I love you! Uncle! Messi is nothing to me, no one, I swear!”

You stop your fingers that had been wedged into her ribs and her armpits and grin down at her, victorious. You plant a big wet kiss on her cheek and let her up, sitting next to her. 

“Eugh, really?” She says, wiping her cheek with her shirt sleeve. 

You shrug and put your arm over the back of the couch behind her, finally looking back up to the tv to see who’s playing. Real Madrid and Barcelona, no wonder she was watching so intensely. She’s returned her attention to the game, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. 

“So,” you tell her, “just know that now you have to watch football with me today.”

She doesn’t turn her head but you can see her frown, “We are watching football babe.”

“No, real football.”

That does the trick. She turns to face you with mock fury on her face. You give her a shit eating grin, trying to goad her on. She squints at you and decides not to take the bait but take your hand instead, pulling it over into her lap and turning her attention back to the tv. You figure this isn’t a terrible way to spend a Sunday morning, even if the sun hasn’t joined you yet.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #vada cavell #wednesday #tara carpenter #lorraine day

[wanderingwomanwondering]

Today’s buddie obsession brought to you by the s6 cemetery scene. I did a rewatch, now I’m unwell.

Buck noticed that eddie was feeling some type of way at the grave, so he offered comforting words. He tried to care for eddie’s heart but didn’t see that eddie wasn’t at ease (metaphorically he couldn’t breathe in that moment, something more was sitting on his chest!!)

Eddie noticed that buck wasn’t at ease and tried to reassure him that he doesn’t have to be anything but himself but eddie also *eventually* realized in the scene that he’d missed some important feelings that buck had been having about the lightning strike.

Eddie has learned to spot when buck can’t breathe (aka be himself) and buck has learned to spot when eddie’s heart needs a beat (aka emotional support), but then they both (to varying degrees) miss when the other is dealing with something that they think is their strong suit! Eddie missed buck’s deeper heart/feelings about dying and buck missed eddie’s lack of ease/comfort with himself in the cemetery. I read that scene as a lack of ease/comfortability on eddie’s part because he started off being open about his feelings (fear of dying alone) but quickly shifted to focus on buck’s needs. He was metaphorically out of breath…in a cemetery…looking like death. Buck didn’t fully catch that something deeper and important was going on with eddie.

The trauma of buck’s death made their communication in the cemetery difficult, because they both have big unspoken feelings about it and about themselves by extension. As others have said, and I agree, buck and eddie were talking past each other in that moment. But interestingly they were still somehow talking about the same thing.

Eddie was talking about his fear of dying alone. Earlier in the episode he was with Chris at Shannon’s grave and Marie said what she said before she died so it makes sense that eddie would be thinking about these things. What feels (mildly) extra is how clearly he wore the weight of those feelings during the scene??? It only starts to make sense because eddie was literally standing next to the person who’s recent death has been weighing on him the most. The actual person who he lost and couldn’t imagine his life without. But that person is talking about another LI, feeling seen by that LI and feeling unable to see himself…or eddie’s emotional turmoil.

Buck was talking about dying alone too but in a more roundabout way. He was exploring the power of feeling seen and understood. While standing next to the man who spent years in a marriage where he wasn’t seen by his partner or by himself. While standing next to eddie as the embodiment of the kind of living death that sets in when a person feels entirely unseen in a way they want to be seen! Buck talked about natalia with hope and awe because he felt seen by her which made him feel alive and energized. Meanwhile eddie looks like he’s dying during their entire conversation! He looks pale, distressed, he’s drowning in his clothes, he’s saying words but barely talking about himself, he’s deferring to buck because buck is the only breathing person complete with a heartbeat in that scene!! Buck being lost/misguided aside, he’s still feeling like he’s on the right path and grateful to be alive to explore it, but eddie doesn’t seem to come to life or catch a second wind at any point in the conversation.

Then we have the grave itself. Marie Ellis is the woman whose grave all of this happened at. The name Marie is a variant of Mary and can mean many things. One of the popular meanings, “beloved”, stood out to me. I think what eddie buried in that cemetery was his hope for a romantic relationship with buck 🫣 Shannon’s been gone for years and eddie seems to have peace on that front, if his conversations with chris are any indication. Tía Pepa encouraged him to date and he was relieved when Vanessa said she wasn’t ready to date . In my brain all of the above makes eddie’s glow-down in 615 all the more pointed! He was in mourning, burying his hope for something with buck and trying to accept that he’d need to find a different path to romantic love.

The second name meaning for Marie that jumped out at me was “bitterness”. That one seems relevant to the way the scene played out. Before eddie understood buck’s feelings, frankly he seemed annoyed. He was frustrated that buck was dating natalia. He used the excuse of her being from a call but buck’s s2 gf, Ali, was from a call and eddie didn’t have any objections to that. Taylor was technically from a call and eddie said nothing about that (even though we KNOW he didn’t like her). Eddie was either reading history and cautioning buck against falling victim to his old pattern and/or he was full-on fishing for a reason to discourage buck from dating natalia specifically.

Tbh I know it’s a long shot but I think eddie knows that he has or is developing feelings for buck and he was finally starting to admit that (to himself at least) then buck fell into natalia’s arms. I think it was a double whammy for eddie that buck felt truly seen by her after just five minutes; I can’t get over how shook eddie looked after buck said that!! It wasn’t until after buck revealed that he felt seen and didn’t know how to be with everyone else and that he didn’t feel like he was the same person after the lightning strike that eddie accepted it and resigned himself to the idea that he doesn’t have a chance with buck. Hence eddie’s constant parade of mournful glances between the distance, buck and marie’s grave!! Bonus points to the writers because Marie also has meanings connected to the sea, and water was a constant theme in s6.

Hopefully I’m not completely delulu. I’m sure I missed stuff and there’s always more to say but damn that cemetery scene had a lot going on!!

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #911 meta #911 abc

[beautifulbuckys]

Can’t Stay Away (1)

Out of all of the wizarding kids Harry’s best friends could’ve been, why did it need to be a Weasley?

George Weasley x Reader

A/N: Hello! I’m back to writing! I’ve been in a huge Harry Potter phase recently. So...I’m doing some come back writing with a multi-part story! Enjoy!!

Warnings: Some swearing, enemies to lovers. Some back and forth between characters! No use of Y/N

Out of all of the wizarding kids' Harry’s best friends could’ve been, why did it need to be a Weasley?

Don’t get me wrong, the Weasley’s are a lovely family. Molly treats me with warmth as she would another daughter. Arthur would send me owl after owl questioning me on muggle happenings. Whenever I could see Charlie and Bill it was always pleasant. Percy would be tolerable at best. Fred constantly dropped flowers off in my dorm room yet always denied it. Ron confided in me and trusted me with anything regarding Harry. Ginny was almost like a little sister to me, I’d braid her hair and she showed me how to sew.

George?

Where do I begin?

Since we began our first year, he found a way to get under my skin. Literally. Once a spell he meant to cast on Filch backfired and lead me to the uncomfortable feeling of movement under my skin for 3 weeks. A time after that, he’d stained my silk scarf gifted to me by Harry when we were small. If you add on the act that he’s loud, disruptive, unruly, and barbaric; he’s a total unlikeable package!

The worst of it? The time he broke my pearl necklace during a failed escape from Snape after a prank. He’d collided with me right by the corridor closest to the Great Hall. Our chests collided violently and he pushed himself away. Unfortunately taking my necklace with him. The same necklace that my Mom had gifted to me when I was around 3. The last thing I had to remind me of her. The closest thing I had to her.

Fred had begged and pleaded with me to forgive George. Damage was done.

And since, I haven’t had a pleasant experience with him. Yet I find myself at the Weasley’s crumbling house every summer. It’s become a routine since we left the Dursleys. I’d room with Ginny, while Harry would stay with Ron. It worked out perfectly. Ginny and I would find ourselves sitting in the glowing sun helping Molly with the gardening. I found it quite peaceful. Us three stuck together a lot considering the amount of testosterone that lived in the Burrow. We’d sit in the same corner of the wobbly, patchy wood dinner table that sat in the middle of the cramped dining room. We’d share tea and Molly would educate us on the proper ways to crochet or knit.

Harry was surrounded by the lively Weasley boys. I never see them repeating a single task during the day, always onto something new. They’ll have practice quidditch matches during midday. Harry and Ron always manage to be on the same team, much like Fred and George. They’d move onto roughhousing near the garden patch, leading to a solid scolding done by Molly. I’d never missed the few occasions the boys would disappear for hours, only to return muddy and worn.

Today was no different.

“Oi, boys! What have I said about you lot wrestling in the mud! I absolutely refuse to clean this laundry. Fred and George. First to the showers! You’re helping us with dinner this evening!” Molly shouted at the returning group from just behind a small berry bush sitting outside the kitchen window.

Fred scoffed, throwing his pale arms into the air. “Mum! We were having fun, Harry learned some new moves!”

Nevertheless, the twins disappeared inside.

“I don’t know what I’ll do with those two boys. Always dabbling into trouble.” Molly turned to me, pushing a small ginger back curl with her forearm.

The sun was just beginning to set, creating a soft pink and orange hue in the sky. Whenever sunsets like this happened, they made me smile. Orange was a happy color. It reminded me of the Weasley family no matter the hassle they added to your lives. The Weasleys were my found family. Whenever a tough day happened and a sunset like this followed, I couldn’t help but picture the zany family bouncing in the sky.

I barely realized I was spacing out before a tall figure appeared to the right of me.

George.

I looked over to my left, where he stood next to me. He was wearing a periwinkle tee that wasn’t shy highlighting the slight muscle tone in his arms. George’s fiery hair was messy and wet. Some pieces clung to his forehead, while others stuck up like bedhead. Small freckles dusted his nose, adding a pop of color to his otherwise pale face.

“What’s got your focus?” He spoke softly. The kitchen was bustling with life, a few Weasleys and Harry running to help with supper. I was assigned to snap the ends of the fresh green beans we had grown. George picked up a few from the pile in front of me and began assisting.

“Nothing too important.”

“Seems it.” He pushed.

I tilt my head slightly in his direction. His tall frame is balanced on the aged kitchen counted by his hip. George’s legs were crossed, his patched white ankle socks slightly revealing themselves from underneath his discolored red pajamas.

“What’s it to you, Weasley?”

The sharp corners of his mouth perk into a smirk. “I can’t help but notice I’m the only one you call Weasley. I live in a house full of Weasleys. Yet Ron is Ron. Percy is Percy. Bill is Bill. But I’m Weasley.” I finally turn my head fully in his direction. His smirk is still prevalent on his face. I wanted to smack it off of him.

“Congratulations.” I sassed.

George snapped an end of a green bean off, tossing it in his mouth. “Someone is awfully snippy today,” He whispered. “Harry get some mud on your scarf?” The smirk he had been wearing never left his face. It sat, proud. What an asshole.

Thankfully, Molly had swiped me away to set the dinner table. The table, obviously repaired to expand its area, was rough and bumpy. There were a few times I’d assisted Harry and Ron with splinters they gained from the old piece of furniture. It was wobbly. What some would consider run down, I’d call it well loved. The original table dawned a dark oak color. The staining darkened the color and once made the woodwork shine. The first addition to the table was some leftover wood from Molly’s garden boxed. It was a birch slab nailed onto the original table. When a table cloth covered the table, a large dip was noticeable due to the level difference. The legs were also constructed with scrap pieces, causing one leg to be longer than the other. Yet, it still held the original charm the initial table was blessed with.

Molly had handed me an emerald green table cloth to cover the rugged surface. The various sets of worn china decorated the tabletop. Small ivory plates decorated with cornflowers were scattered on the table. While Arthur and Molly’s seats had the older, cream and rose plates they loved. Molly’s mother had gifted the couple with this set of dinnerware after their wedding. It definitely didn’t go unappreciated.

As the family settled down for dinner, conversations varied from Harry’s dream last night to Ron’s rat eating a hole through Percy’s special prefect robes.

“That damn rat needs some bloody training. He’s the worst behaved Weasley! And that’s counting Ron! Do you have any idea how much those robes cost?” Percy whined, gripping his chipped metal fork. His thin eyebrows furrowed, causing a horrible wrinkle on his forehead.

Ron shoved a slab of chicken breast into his mouth. “The school gave them to you.” He spoke with his mouth full. Thin pieces of chicken slipped out of his mouth while speaking.

Percy glared at Ron.

“They’re priceless.”

I giggled at Ron’s antics, him joining me. Percy began ranting about how his position of power made Ron jealous and that’s why he sent Scabbers to go chew a hole in the hood of the robe. While rambling, he flailed his frail arms into the air; nearly smacking Fred in the process. Fred dodged the hit dramatically while scoffing.

“Oi, can you watch where you’re swinging those muscles? I get you’ve been doing 5 push-ups every night but spare us from your fury,” The older twin snickered. The dim yellow lights of the Burrow cast a shadow down his face. His brow bones shadowed his chocolate eyes. From this angle, he could’ve been mistaken for one of those cheap muggle Halloween statues.

Percy didn’t take this comment lightly. He shut up quickly and began rapidly eating his food. Occasionally, he’d mumble something under his breath and glare at Ron.

“Dear brother I think you hurt poor Percy’s feelings!” George gasped. He raised his hands to his cheeks and feigned a shocked expression. Slight chuckles could be heard from Ginny beside me. “I demand at once that you apologize to my esteemed relative. If you don’t, I fear your food may be coming out from the other end!” George’s fake expression was replaced by a boyish grin. If you looked closely, you just see the tiniest dimple on both corners of his mouth.

“Thank you, Geor-” Percy began.

“My brother cannot help the brute strength that he gets from being part cyclops! It already ruins his self-esteem enough that he looks like one. Do not begin to make him fear using his true strength around those he’s supposed to feel safe around.” The entire table of Weasley’s erupted in laughter, excluding Molly. Ginny’s face could match her hair color. I could’ve sworn I saw tears falling from the corners of Fred’s eyes. I laughed too, I can’t lie about that. I’ve always found Percy to be tightly wound and in need of a serious laugh every once in a while.

As I wiped the falling tears from my face, I glanced across the table. George was staring right at me. We made brief eye contact before I broke it, bringing my eyes to the meal in front of me.

Shit. I laughed at George Weasley’s joke. I broke my front.

Dinner otherwise was rather peaceful. Of course, Molly scolded both twins for picking on their older brother. Arthur included himself in the punishment too. I’m assuming it was to cover up the fact that he slammed the table laughing in reaction to the conversation. Molly definitely saw it though. She was just letting him off easy. Percy left the table the second he finished his plate. As he stomped up the stairs, Ginny heard him grumbling about how Fred and George would soon get a reality check. Soon after that, a nearby door slam shook the Burrow.

As the evening continued, members of the Weasley family dropped like flies. Ginny was the first to go to bed. Eventually, Fred and Harry followed. Molly and Arthur disappeared without a word. Ron sat with me by the fireplace for a while.

The familiar warmth of the Weasley fireplace was always comforting to me. I spent hours tutoring Ron and Harry on charms homework during cold winter nights by the fireplace. I experienced my first heartbreak here. 2nd year, after Clarence Hillbox broke up with me the day before the summer break. Molly sat with me all day, comforting me and telling me about Arthur’s first fight.

“He had shattered my father’s vase! He was meeting my family. He tried teaching my younger brother the wonders of muggle ‘baseball’. Somehow in the mix, a ball flew in the opposite direction straight through the den window! Completely shattered the family heirloom that had been in the family for over 800 years!”

I sniffled. “Did he make it up to you? Or your Dad?”

Molly’s familiar smile appeared on her round face. “Well, he tried. He took me to a muggle pottery barn to paint a new one. He paid for the costs, and let me do anything my heart desired. He was the one to pick it up from the barn and brought it to my Dad. Obviously, he was still hurt but he appreciated it.”

Ron and I sat in silence for a while, staring at the yellow and orange flames that danced on the charred logs. Then I felt the couch dip to my right.

“Hope I’m not interrupting something.” The loudest, and younger of the twins broke the silence.

Silently, Ron stood up and left the room. Not a ‘goodbye’ or a ‘goodnight’ left his mouth. His soft footsteps could be heard above my head, walking quickly to his room. Great. Now Weasley and I are left alone.

I clear my throat, “Not exactly. My scowl must’ve been present on my face, as his face dropped slightly once he looked at me. “I was just hanging out with your brother. Obviously, he had other plans. So now I’m left alone.” My hands were fidgeting with the hems of my sleep shorts. There were a few frayed strings that stuck out from the sides.

“But I’m here.”

“Take the hint, Weasley.” I groaned, pulling the sides of my shorts out in frustration. He chuckled softly, turning his head to look at the fire. However, his arm had other plans. It snaked its way behind the back of the plush couch. His pink knuckles sitting inches from my cheekbone. I turned my head slightly, to see exactly how he was sitting. As he obviously wasn’t getting up. His broad-shouldered form sat comfortably on the seat. His left ankle was balanced on his right though, legs forming a perfect 4. Due to his arms being raised, his shirt lifted a little. A small blue boxer line peeked out from under his pajama bottoms.

“I can’t stand you.” He said.

I frown. “Yet you can’t seem to leave me alone.

“Touche.”

And for the first time ever, I didn’t want to smack George Weasley across the face.

#harry potter imagine #fanfiction #fan fic #fanfc #enemies to lovers #trope #enemies to lovers trope #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #weasley twins #weasley #harry potter #ron weasley #harry potter fanfic rec #harry potter fanfic #fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #george weasley fanfic #george weasley oneshot #writing #george weasley imagine #slytherin #gryffindor #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #fic recs #george weasley x you

[cloudyswritings]

Hollow knight bugs & real world species

basically this is just a place for me to dump my thoughts about the species of Hollow knight characters. Let’s start with the easy ones.

Divine & Leg Eater: These two are very obviously a termite king and queen, Divine literally can’t be anything else.

Ogrim: The biggest shitter, dung beetle obvi.

Cornifer & Iselda: Weevils, aka the best bugs. Look at their proboscis’

Mantis lords: Mantids, probably based mostly on the Chinese Giant Mantis specifically.

Flukes: They’re just flukes, disgusting.

Unn: Objectively the best goddess, big slug

Quirrel: So it seems likely to me that Quirrel is a isopod of some sort, most likely an armidilidium species, I think it’s something about his hunched/slightly curled posture and body segmentation.

Radiance: A silkmoth, her wings look to be in proportion with the species and everything else screams silkmoth.

Grimm: it’s a common theory, but his resemblance to a vampire moth is striking.

Mask maker: Bro is very obviously a whip scorpion, the arms are what really seals the deal, but living among other predators with ease(ie deepnest) and twitchy motions are staples of whip scorpions irl.

Cloth: a Cicada nymph, hence her whole burrowing thing and the sounds she makes. Plus this is actually confirmed.

God Tamer: She’s an ant, but not a queen. She’s probably a worker who got separated from the colony. Her antenna are fairly distinctive in Hollownest and are very ant like. Plus she tames other species, something ant colonies effectively do by treating aphids like livestock

Ze’mer: So there’s two equally good guesses for what she is. The first is that she’s a silverfish, this would support her outsiderness given silverfish are a truly strange and primitive branch of bugs. The second possibility is that she’s a glow worm beetle, the adult stage of glow worm. This is also super plausible because of the antenna those beetles have lining up nicely with her fluff and drooping antenna. I think either one is a great interpretation.

now the harder ones.

Sly: So his size is notable, as is his eyes being very visibly compound, that combined with his mobility in the air and the sort of buzzing yoda type sound his voice has makes me think he’s a fly of some sort. Plus it rhymes.

Herrah: she’s most likely a horned baboon tarantula, the colors and size line up with what we see compared to the weavers and devout. Plus the horn on those tarantula line up shapewise fairly well with hers.

Pale King: This man to me has two different possibilities, either he’s a leg less lizard of some sort or more probably he’s some sort of really fucked up crustacean. We know Wyrms molt so that almost certainly rules out option one. My thought is that Wyrms have the same issues lobsters run into where they get bigger with every molt, so their exoskeleton gets heavier, thicker, and harder to break out of. Eventually they die, crushed under their own weight and unable to molt(this is when Wyrms generally abandon their larger form to make kingdoms). Verdict: something terribly cursed.

Bardoon: Bardoon, Bardoon, Bardoon, why must you be so difficult? So at first Bardoon really looks like a silkworm, the color is right, even the face of the two look super similar. But Bardoon is demonstrably longer than a silkworm has any right being, and his little nub/tail that you can hit distinctly resembles the “horn” all hornworms have. Despite that I’m nominally going to say he’s a silkworm until I find better evidence. Verdict: Concerning implications.

Gubs and Grubfather: Parasitic wasps maybe? The charm is called Grubberflys elegy, but their behavior mimics the way some wasps lay eggs inside of hosts so their young can eat their way out. Verdict: wasp things probably.

Tiso: So Tiso and Sharpe both look remarkably similar and from the very, very limited amount we’ve seen from both move similarly. In that vein they both look vaguely like assassin bugs, specifically assassin bug nymphs.

Vessels: Something even more fucked than the Pale King, they’re like mostly plant though I think? Like their masks look like his but are actually made of the White ladys bark/wood and grow constantly, their horns look a lot like her branches too. I imagine that their bodies have the same crustacean exoskeleton thing going on their dad has, so they’re probably incorporating heavy metals into their chitin. In all likelihood their mother being a plant and the light absorption the void displays means they’re photosynthetic in some way, it might explain how they grow too. The dangling bottom parts of the shades also look sorta like roots honestly, this also meshes well with how thorns of agony appears as void tendrils when activated. Verdict: Who tf knows, they’re definitely photosynthetic though.

The Shade Lord: So obviously this big chonker is literally just void, but their form distinctly resembles a dragonfly nymph, with four main arms/legs being used, and a distinctly predatory head shape. Plus we don’t see their bottom half, so I imagine it’s either a mass of roots like their mother, or something vaguely wormy. Verdict: Dragonfly thing

Isma: She is super fucking weird tbh, her head is shaped a lot like Vespas. Obviously however she’s some sort of pant being given the way we find her. My theory here is that she’s actually some other sort of bee, there’s a ton of bees that are solitary species. Based on that I’d say she was a bee— probably a white-banded digger bee— who became a devotee or worshipper of Unn. This may explain how the Pale king was allowed to build in green path. Unn let him build in her land and in return she got a loyal and powerful spy/pair of eyes in the Pale court.

#hollow knight #bugs #headcanon #entomology #the pale king #hk vessels

[bmtillerbabe]

A Beneficial Arrangement

inspired by BG3, and my crazy love for the fanged vampire spawn - I wrote original fanfic content (smut and sex galore)

I posted the full story on AO3, but here is the first chapter :)

Enjoy!

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

The campfire crackled and popped in the night air as a charred log shifted within the ashes, sending sparks dancing up away into the night sky.

  Your camp was quiet. Calm. And for the first time in a while – peaceful.

  The road you had traversed in the last few weeks had more than taken its toll on you and your party members, and you could not only feel the physical exhaustion throughout your soul, but your mind and heart as well. Alone with your thoughts was a dangerous thing…. Albeit a good one.

  Your eyes shimmered, reflecting the warm, golden glow of the flames. You watched in admiration as the tender trills of fire danced and swayed, bending in the slightest breeze before righting itself once more. You adjusted your legs and shifted your weight to avoid any pins and needles forming, wrapping your arms around your knees as you pulled them up to your chest.

  This was nice.

  Gentle snoring and glowing coming from Karlach’s tent. Scratch breathing softly, pattering his legs every now and again. Halsin off in some corner, meditating to the moon.

  And then, a pale, moonlit figure making its way towards where you now sat, approaching from the underbrush nearby.

  Astarion.

  Your head turned to meet his blood-red eyes, the soft tendrils of silver hair that curled around his face, and the tiny trail of blood that dripped from the corner of his mouth when he grinned. His gaze met yours as he reached up to wipe his mouth clean, licking the side of his hand so as not to let anything go to waste.

  You found yourself ashamed to admit that you had watched his actions much more intently than you should.

  “Well,” he drawled, “someone’s up late.” Sauntering over, he plopped himself down on the ground next to you. “Can’t sleep?”

  You smirked. “I could say the same thing to you.”

  “Ah, but my dear, I am a vampire, after all. I have a reason to be out at this hour.” He rested his forearm on his own knee, eyeing his fingers again for any trace of leftover blood. You took this moment to let your eyes trail down his figure. His shining white hair, his sharp jawline, pointed ears….  Gods, he looked perfect. Looked delicious.

  You couldn’t deny that over the last several weeks, as well as fighting your way through numerous battles, there was a battle going on within your mind every day that you couldn’t seem to win. Astarion was a beautiful, beautiful being, and every day you spent with him, you felt yourself slipping away more and more; your heart aching to be near him, to touch him, to feel him….

  You shook your head to yourself, trying to shy away from the thoughts that threatened to consume you. Astarion was a person. A party member. A friend.

  Yes. A friend.

  And you’re not supposed to think about friends that way.

  But gods. When he sat like this, literally glowing in the moonlight, eyes shining like liquid rubies under thick, dark lashes…. 

  “I’m just trying to relax some before tomorrow comes along,” You half-answered his question of why you were awake so late at night. You sighed, painfully tearing your eyes away from him and back to the fire. “It’s been a long week, and we have an even longer one ahead of us. Not only do we have to make our way to Moonrise, but we also must find a way to accrue some gold along the way. We need a way to stay alive without draining our only cleric.” You attempted a laugh.

  Your heart skipped a beat at the chuckle that rumbled from the back of the pale elf’s throat. “That might not be such a terrible idea.” He agreed.

   Apparently finding a small speck of blood, Astarion lifted his finger to his mouth to further clean himself off.

  Your stomach did a little flip at the sound of his gentle suckle, and your mouth watered. You swallowed involuntarily.

  To distract yourself again, you let your mind wander to another topic.

  Why he still chose to go out hunting late at night. Although you appreciated the fact that he seemed to care enough about the party’s outlook on his vampirism, it never seemed to bother you that much. Even when you had found him standing over you, fangs bared, those nights ago. Not only was there some kind of morbid curiosity about the whole thing…. You couldn’t deny the fact that somehow, inexplicably, it turned you on.

  Drinking blood had never been something you actively had sought out before, but ever since this beautiful creature had come into your life, you had to admit – it was on your mind so much more now. There was just something so…. Intimate about it. Having to give oneself over so fully, so entirely, trusting the other person so much as to play with your life. It was thrilling.

  And sexy.

  Not to mention, the feeling you had gotten when his cool, firm lips planted on your neck, his sharp fangs grazing your pulse before sinking in with a soft pop, and feeling him drink from you and your life’s force that first time….

  Maybe it was the night air, maybe it was your own thoughts, but you shivered.

  Astarion was suddenly concerned, and a part of you mentally berated yourself for drawing more attention towards yourself. That was the exact opposite of what you wanted.

  He cocked his head to the side and eyed you. “Oh. I do seem to forget how easily you humans tend to react to the weather.” He chuckled, a pure, angelic sound to your ears, “I can’t even remember the last time I was cold.”

  You were thankful that he hadn’t probed further into your mind via tadpole to reveal the true nature of your gooseflesh. Or how his gaze alone seemed to ignite a new fire deep within you, warming you from the inside out.

  And before you had a chance to think better of it, the question blurted out.

  “Why do you still go hunting?”

  Astarion’s laugh was the audible version of a glistering gemstone. Your eyes caught his fangs. “Well, in case you haven’t noticed my dear, there’s hardly any real food for me around here. Lest I remind you that I can’t survive alone on whatever vegetables and wines we find.”

  But you were shaking your head before he finished, raising a hand. “No, no, no. That’s not what I meant. I mean….” You gulped, almost unable to speak directly to him.

  Gods, could you smell him?

  “I mean…” Your breath quickened as the question you had wanted so desperately to ask him for many, many nights now bubbled up in your throat. Perhaps you had drank too much wine this night, perhaps your inhibitions had gotten the better of you. Or perhaps, you just wanted to see what would happen. Either way, before you could talk yourself out of it, you heard your own voice before it had even registered that you had begun to talk again,

  “I mean, why waste so much energy and time when all of us need you at your peak during the day… You’re a very important member of our party… and it just makes more sense, and… I want to help everyone in any way I can…” You seemed to be talking to yourself now, more than to him, trailing off every few words and stumbling over yourself in an endless barrage of words.... 

  Nevertheless, his eyes were locked onto yours. You tried to get a reading from him in any way you could but found your insight lacking. He could be thinking of the temple of Shar for all you knew, and you’d never know any better.

  He waited for you to finish, eyeing you curiously.

  As pathetic an excuse as it may sound, you couldn’t help yourself. You just had to say it.

  “You.... can feed on me, instead." Hearing it sounded worse than thinking it, so you quickly added, "If you like.”

  Astarion seemed genuinely surprised at your words. His eyes widened, but he otherwise made no move.

 Shit, You thought to yourself. Shit, shit, shit, way to go Tav, now you've done it... 

  Stomach in knots when he didn’t say anything, you quickly began to back up, trying to fix what you just said, the longer it had time to sink in.

  “Well, it just…  I mean…  You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just figured that it would be so much easier than to try and hunt, and maybe find something to eat, maybe not. It would just be easier to…. Y’know….” You shrugged, cheeks flushing ever so slightly and a shiver threatening to break across your skin again, for a completely different reason this time, “I can help.”

  Yes, that was why you said it. Definitely. You just wanted to help. After all, he was a fellow party member, and you would hate for any of your party to feel alienated or alone, or punished for something that really wasn’t their choice to begin with.

  Yep. That’s exactly what it was.

  Astarion was quiet for a moment, contemplating. His crimson eyes danced between the fire and you before finally resting on your face. You found his expression still as unreadable as before, but…. You thought that maybe, just maybe, you could detect a hint of… warmth?

  “You…. you would do that?” His voice betrayed him for just a mere moment before it was concealed under his mask again. It was a sincere question, and he sounded…. Eager, almost. Perhaps you had been right. “Even after I almost…” He grimaced at the memory of the first time you had allowed him to drink from you, when he had nearly killed you caught in the bloodlust.

  You gulped, realizing the implications your words meant. But with the fire in your belly roaring into a flame, you nodded, pushing any fear to the back of your mind to sit behind the desire that was ever growing.

  “Of course.” You offered, resisiting the urge to reach out and touch his hand. “It just makes sense. Besides, think of all the energy you’ll save this way. You’ll have more time to rest, less exertion. Not to mention, I – we,” you quickly corrected yourself, “– don’t have to worry about a stray thief or wild animal catching you off guard. It’s the smart thing to do.” You concluded with a grimace, realizing it had gone from something kind to something akin to a sales pitch at the nearest Blacksmith’s Shop.

  He seemed to ponder this, almost as if in disbelief. This was definitely not the conversation he expected to have with you this night and you could tell.

  You awaited his answer, both eager for him to say both yes and no equally.

  Astarion looked back into the campfire again. It was quiet again between you once more – the nightsounds of the world seeming to be on full blast in the background. But slowly, he began to nod.

  “I think that would be a beneficial arrangement,” he concurred. “This.... This is not something to take lightly, you know. Offering blood is... well, not for just anyone. And I would hate for our friendship to come to an end simply because of a misunderstanding. So, I propose a counter-offer." He shifted his legs towards you - your stomach dropping - and looked directly into your eyes. 

  That damn shiver....

  "Alright. I will agree to allow you to share your blood with me, on one condition. We try it for two weeks, and revisit the notion to see how you're faring afterward. I won't need to feed from you every night, mind you, but..." His eyes squinted, and he... smirked?  "You may find the side effects to be more than you bargained for." He paused, looking you over, and the silence between you felt an eternity. 

  "Do we have a deal?" 

  Almost lost in his unrelenting gaze, you chided yourself mentally with a nod, releasing the breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. 

  "Yes," You cleared your throat, realizing that you had not only stopped breathing, but stopped swallowing as well, and your throat was now scratchy. You tried again, "Yes. Deal." 

  "Excellent." Astarion's eyes shone with something akin to malice, but it was quickly hidden behind his mask once again. With a much warmer smile, he thrust his hand out towards you, and you shook on it, sealing the deal. 

  You gasped softly when he yanked your grip to bring your face closer to his, and whispered - "This is a gift, you know. Thank you. I will not forget it.”

  You spent the next few minutes talking over the details and times of day when he could feed on you, coming to the agreement that he would only feed on you at night, whilst everyone else was asleep; they were to tell no one else of the arrangement; and it was to be done in your tent, while you were awake, on the off chance he would accidentally drank too much again, and you would be able to push him off. Or, at the very least, call for help.

  The finer details could be worked out along the way.

  Astarion grinned at her as the conversation came to a close. “Well, darling, this has been a surprisingly delightful conversation. As I am unfortunately sated at this moment, do expect me tomorrow night,” He paused and tilted his head. It made your stomach swoon. It was the eyes. It had to be the eyes.... 

  “And keep in mind, darling; I shall be quite hungry.”

  You managed to keep yourself from shivering this time.

  The two of you sat next to the fire in comfortable silence for a time after that, watching the fire slowly burn itself out.

  And maybe you had fallen asleep. Maybe the warmth of the fire had finally gotten to you, or maybe you just felt …. Safe. Maybe one of the goblins had hit you just a little too hard in the head with their clubs, and knocked a few braincells loose. 

  Either way, you stirred on the cool ground, only to wake and find your head resting on your bedroll and a blanket wrapped around your slender frame.

  Blinking away the sleep that threatened to pull you back under its dark tendrils, you slowly rose until you were laying on your elbows and lazily adjusted your vision to your new surroundings.

  You were in your tent.

  How…?

  The candle next to your roll flickered, casting little monsters in their shadows, and you yawned. Try as you may, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling sweetly to yourself, closing your eyes against the butterflies in your stomach.

  Perhaps you weren’t so crazy after all for offering yourself to him. Perhaps this would indeed help everyone in the party after all…. Perhaps this would help you not be so crazily obsessed with those crimson eyes, and those sharp fangs, or the way he smiled when he thought no one could see…

  Perhaps….

 You dozed back off before you could fully finish your thought.

Read the rest on AO3 now! 🥰

#astarion smut #Astarion #Fluff #Smut #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #Astarion sex #Fanfic #ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #fic

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Hold Still ~ X.T.

A/n: Gender neutral pronouns were used, so gn reader for this one! Pure fluff after the last angsty fic <3

Request: “Xavier x werewolf!reader where R gets into a fight with another student that Xavier pulls them out of and helps patch them up. R is still drunk on adrenaline(or like mildly concussed lmao), and they keep being annoying trying to steal kisses from him while he’s literally trying to help stop their face from bleeding.”

Word Count: 1500+

MASTERLIST

Xavier had gotten there too late to see how it had started, but it was quickly quite clear how it was ending. Y/n wasn’t shifted at all, only their eyes glowing as they went to town on the person underneath them. Xavier had only managed to slip through the crowd and hook his hands under his partner’s arms, hefting them up and away. They had fought, and though Xavier was taller they were stronger and they almost got away. If him not groaning as their foot came in contact with the sude of his leg and them recognizing his voice, they probably would have gotten away clean.

Distracted by Xavier though, their focus changed quickly as they turned from the guy that Xavier didn’t even recognize - except that they weren’t from Nevermore. Which made no sense because they were at school. The town people never came here on their own.

He focused on his partner as their hands ran over his shoulders and down his arms, eyes scanning for injury.

Despite himself, Xavier smiled. “I’m okay.” Of course they had the time and energy to be worried about him when they had a forming black eye, split lip and bloody nose.

Xavier was a little proud to say the other guy looked worse though. Y/n had handled him well.

Not that he should he encouraging that.

Weems was on the scene in the next breath, leaving no room for further discussion. Her eyes ran over something before her worry turned cold and hard as her eyes landed on the boy still on the ground. No one had even tried to help him up, which confused Xavier even more.

Then he saw it.

When Xavier’s art in town had been painted over last year, Weems had given him permission to do something at the school. He had put all of the effort he had into this one, absolutely sure that it would be safe inside the school at the very least.

The wall he’d had his second painting was white, the paint only on enough to cover what he had worked so hard on, underneath. Over the white was splattered, “Monster” in big blocky red letters. At the bottom of the scene on the wall was an open and prepped bear trap.

Xavier felt himself go pale.

The trap was a message of course, the boy probably hadn’t meant to actually catch Xavier or anyone else. But it would have been easy not to see it if you were lost in a book or practicing some practical magic or in regular school stuff - even if you were in a hurry on the way to class. There was a corner that someone could turn around and completely not see the trap at all.

This kid had not only ruined Xavier’s portrait, he had put every single person at Nevermore in very real danger.

No wonder Y/n had gone for the throat.

Weems leered at the boy at her full height and the boy on the ground shrunk into himself. “You won’t press charges, or spread word on what happened here. If you try to I will expose the instigating actions and very illegal trespassing and assault you’ve done. Don’t even get me started on the physical safety threat you’ve made.” It wasn’t totally accurate, but it would he only too easy to play off if anyone tried anything.

Weems had grown a backbone. That was nice to see.

The boy nodded and, once dismissed by Weems, scrambled to freedom. She then turned to Y/n. She didn’t reprimand them as expected. Her gaze simply softened and she sighed. “I know things have gotten difficult for you since getting arrested,” she said softly to Xavier. His eyes fell to the ground, unable to look at his ruined painting.

For the second time now.

“Make me something for my office instead okay?” She asked.

Xavier nodded, looking at her as she kneeled down to check on how Y/n was doing. “Thanks, Weems.”

The woman smiled. “Of course. Now go get your partner patched up.”

Xavier smiled softly, helping Y/n to their feet. The pair left to Xavier’s dorm. Usually they’d be sneakier or at least get some light hearted joking teasing from teachers or reminders of curfew, but today they just walked and everyone left them alone.

Y/n had stepped up for Nevermore ajd taken hits for it. They could have this one.

Once inside, Xavier sat them down on his bed (It smelled like him and he knew they’d like that). Then he got a wet rag, disinfectant and a few bandages. He sat next to Y/n, reaching over to hold their chin as he used the rag to softly dab and wipe the blood away, cleaning the cut.

They hissed, leaning away on instinct. Xavier shot them a half amused look. “We love a knight in shining armor but now I have to patch you up like the good boyfriend I am. So please stay still.”

Y/n did a little pout. “Can’t you just kiss it better?”

Xavier chuckled. Then he sobered a bit as he realized their eyes were dilated and their gaze seemed a little unfocused.

Shit.

“Hey, are you feeling anything abnormal other than the pain from the bruising and cuts?” He asked, trying to move their chin so their eyes would meet his. They seemed to struggling with the task.

Y/n just shrugged. “My head hurts a little. He got like, two good hits in. But only in the beginning. I landed on the ground before he got on top of me and then I sort of flipped us over and-“ They shrugged again.

Xavier frowned. “Did you hit your head?”

Y/n laughed at that. “Several times. Between his fist and the concrete I got a few good whacks.”

Xavier bit back an angry comment. That wouldn’t help them right now. He would chide Y/n for being reckless and apathetic with their well being another time. “Y/n, you have a concussion.” He raised an accusing eyebrow.

Y/n grinned. “Not surprised I got a bit roughed up falling for you.”

Xavier snorted, rolling his eyes and dodging his partner as they went in for a kiss. “You cannot flirt your way out of this. You should have told me that you hit your head. I could have made it worse.”

Y/n sighed, leaning against the end of the bed, first pushing a pillow behind him so the post didn’t dig into his back. “I’m sorry Xav I just. Tired.” They nestled into the bed and closed their eyes, as if to sleep.

Xavier pulled them into a sitting position, heart swelling when they whined. They were so adorable right now…

He had go focus.

“You can’t fall asleep when you have s concussion darling we don’t know exactly how bad your concussion is.”

Y/n rolled his eyes but conceded. “Fine. Continue your treatment Doctor Thorpe.”

A smile ghosted at his lips again, unable to help himself. “Okay sit still and I’ll try to get the rest of your face.”

“Not my face,” Y/n groaned. “My money winner!”

A chuckle bubbled from Xavier as he was caught off guard by the near drunk way Y/n was acting right now. He seemed to be able to focus more easily now and wasn’t slurring his words, and he seemed to be keeping his balancing sitting up fine enough so Xavier was unworried enough to be able to enjoy the shenanigans. “Whatever, Y/n.” He reached the rag forward to wipe more of the blood away. Y/n ducked the rag and leaned in again for a kiss. This time they got a peck before Xavier ducked out of the way. “Y/n,” he chided.

The put on their best pleading face. “One kiss and I’ll sit still?”

Xavier sighed, taking a second before conceding. “Fine.” They made a squeaky noise of celebration before puckering up, leaning in. Xavier chuckled before shifting his hold from their chin to their jaw, leaning in for a long and deep and sincere kiss. When he leaned away they whined and he found himself suddenly sickly in love. “Please let me finish?”

Y/n hesitated, eyes locked on the details of Xavier’s face, drinking in how he was looking at them right now. They pursed their lips. “Xav. You know you’re not a monster, right?”

Xavier felt something warm settle in his chest. Y/n was always so aware and caring of him, even when they were concussed.

God he was lucky. “I know.” His thumb brushed across their cheek, expression soft. He was melted to the floor in love with them.

They smiled. “Good.” They settled into a single spot, lifting their chin and offering their face for cleaning. Xavier went back to work, thanking whoever was listening above that even though people were cruel and mistakes haunted you even when the mistakes weren’t yours - that despite all the bad in the world, Xavier had Y/n. Someone so good they single handedly balanced everything else.

He could paint another picture. They were worth that.

#Xavier Thorpe #Xavier Thorpe x reader #Xavier Thorpe imagine #Wednesday #Wednesday x reader #Wednesday imagine #gender neutral reader

[prince-kallisto]

*sigh* I have the silliest theory of all time, which is saying a lot considering what I theorize, but I’m trying so hard to figure out Jack’s birthday card

It’s been controversial, to say the least. Because RAFIKI?!? Not to clown on my boy Jack, but even though he’s very smart, he never had this special type of wisdom like Rafiki. He’s very serious, a lone wolf. I thought we would be getting a picture from the Beauty and the Beast wolves, especially considering he’s from the land of Pyroxene, even being childhood acquaintances with Vil

But since I’m getting desperate, I look at the two frames closer

We have Rafiki with the light shining behind him, and Scar shrouded in darkness. Jack is conveniently in between the two, separating the light and darkness

Then Mufasa teaches Simba about how “everything the light touches” belongs to the king. OKAY.

And there’s “that shadowy place” where the Hyenas and Scar gather. OKAY

So…is TWST trying to imply that Jack is the “in between,” or the representation of “everything the light touches?” Like the dawn or twilight (stop don’t think about the vampire movies)?? Jack IS a first year, has white hair, and the first years definitely have a lot of symbolism regarding new beginnings and personal change, and they seem to be setting up their importance in the end game.

I’ve talked more about this anthology cover before, but the first years symbolism change and growth. A lot of them are discovering who they are, what their Unique Magics are…and Jack notably stood against Leona in Book 2 despite idolizing him before. And if there’s still hope for Beauty and the Beast reference, the beast quite literally goes under a transformation, just like Jack’s unique magic that turns him into a wolf. So does Jack being the “twilight” a representation of this transformation?

Still, this seems like a REALLY abstract and roundabout way to reveal Jack’s origins? Which is saying a lot considering Sebek’s and Lilia’s origins being pretty abstract.

The weird thing about this is, even though Jack has white/pale hair like Silver and Kalim, he is NOT a part of the “light trio” which is made up of Silver, Kalim, and Rook (who is blonde), supposedly because they are based of heroes instead of villains. Ironically enough, Jack has a much stronger moral compass and behaviors compared to Rook. And visually, with his white hair, he would fit into the light trio a lot better. But what makes the light trio the Light Trio is how their magic is represented with white glows instead of the standard dark magic that everyone else has- including Jack.

I tried seeing if there were any “sayings” about wolves that Jack may be based on, but the closest thing I could find was one of the Pinterest-esque quotes about two wolves, one being the light and the other darkness 😭 I mean…I suppose if you REALLY stretch it, the “grandfather” explaining the story of the two wolves in this fakelore could be Rafiki, which is why Rafiki shows up in Jack’s artwork.

Rafiki does something similar with grown up Simba, asking Simba who he was, and showing him a reflection of his father. But like the wiki page says, it’s origin is very dubious and is considered fakelore.

But this is driving me crazy because it almost made sense until I realized Jack is basically the embodiment of this meme 😭😭😭

So unless Jack is secretly Rafiki’s wolfsona

WHAT IS TWST TRYING TO SAY WITH THIS?!?

#twst #twst theory #twisted wonderland #twst spoilers #twst Jack howl #twst Jack #Jack howl #KallistoPost