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#and also just in general i think being around for long enough has a tendency to do bad things to your brain.
sangfielle · 5 months
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i want to make some old guard vampires with their own little faction but i a) don't want to put any more Vampire Politics in nny i feel like theyre already overrepresented and b) don't want to displace them as far north as new england because im conceptualizing these people as all being southerners and while linas in nny and is from ky/tn shes a new age-ish vamp even if she is one of the oldest of that generation idt any of the post-20th century vampires had any kind of sway with the oldheads when lina moved north and certainly not enough to make a group of them uproot like that. so i guess they could be an excuse for me to start picking at another area outside of ny/nj and figuring out how the dissolution of current society shaped that part of the world...
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I love your writing!! Could you do a short 1 or 2 part fiction based on this prompt: a highborn girl is to become Aemond's wife but she is a mute. Her other senses are well even though she isn't able to speak. She is youngest in her family and is extremely shy. No fiery bone in her body. Alicent coaxes her son into being betrothed to her due to Alicent having issues with high-born ladies not wanting to marry the prince due to his eye missing and his tendency to have a temper. They bond over reading and Aemond is enthralled with her beauty. Also Aemond never is a kinslayer in this story lol. Thank you!
Her Voice
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Summary: You are introduced with the prince as his second option for a marriage in your family. But how will the Prince react to you own affliction | Mini-Series Masterlist
Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist
A/N: I changed the request up a little and it's strange that I got this ask because I do actually have a stutter myself that was debilitating growing up, so I tried to shoehorn some feelings that I felt myself into this character, but hopefully I still did it justice (and I made it more about her intelligence cos I think Aemond would find that hot)?
Thank you for the request anon! Also thank you all for your love and comments I really love them! I can’t comment on them since this is a side-blog, but I appreciate you all! 
Warnings: none, just fluff, Aegon being Aegon
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"Do you think that any highborn woman with a brain between her eyes would desire to spend the rest of her life with a tempestuous prince?"
Alicent was circling the room, hands smoothing over one another to keep herself calm, doing this in exchange of picking at her fingernails, which her father hated. And with Otto sat brooding in the corner of the room, Alicent chose her actions wisely.
Aemond barely resisted the urge to roll his eye, one hand rested on one side of his face, disinterested. Another reprimand for his temper, his behaviour. He didn't realise his mother had it in her to keep on doing this for so long, especially after having a son like Aegon. But even then, her solution had been to marry him to his sister, and it was clear how well that ended. And how Aegon's actions persisted.
"Perhaps if they were not so empty-headed they would know to leave me be"
"Like it or not, you will be wed" Otto butted in, resulting in Aemond sending an annoyed glare, "It has been difficult enough to introduce ladies to you"
"Because they think me a monster" Aemond retorted, one hand gripping the arm of the chair beside him. His mother was still pacing around, a million thoughts banging around in her brain, working endlessly on how to resolve this. In truth, he did not enjoy seeing his mother in such distress and his heart to see her in this way more often than not.
"That is not true, Aemond" Alicent's voice was soft, as if he were still a child.
"True enough that it whispers through the court"
"A marriage and children with her would mean security in the Reach" Otto said simply. His mind forever focussed on matters political and never of the heart. Alicent was proof of this and at this quip, Aemond could see the discomfort it bought her.
"I do not wish to marry that loud-mouthed half-wit"
Every time Aemond protested, he could see his mother begin pacing around the room once more.
"At this rate, half the ladies in Westeros will have met that beast before you"
Aemond extended a hand out with a sigh, "It is no fault of mine that she is scared of Vhagar"
"It nearly landed on top of her, Aemond!" Alicent begged out and Aemond genuinely had to hold back a smile as he imagined Vhagar pinning the girls dress to the ground with her large claw. It had scared the girl stiff and her loud-mouthed was quickly stiffened from the presence of the largest dragon in the world before her. Her face pale as a sheet.
"Vhagar did not like her" he simply responded.
A moment passed in silence and Aemond nearly stood to leave when Alicent crossed her arms, her warm, brown eyes trained at her second son. Half in pride and half in scolding.
"There is of course, another choice" Alicent suggested quietly, taking a side glance at her father.
Now stood before his mother, seeing over her easily, he placed his arms behind his back, a brow was arched in not only question but anxiety at her suggestion.
"She has a younger sister, only half a year younger than you"
Aemond scoffed, "This is desperation"
"It is a suggestion" Alicent corrected. In front of her son, she seemed so small as she took his large hand in both of hers, her rings clicking together to rub her fingers over his skin, "See how you feel"
With a sigh, he took his leave.
There was no harm in trying.
The days seemed to pass the slowest and the Prince busied himself as he usually did, performing his duties. He trained with Ser Criston, he read books on various subjects and he rode on Vhagar in an attempt to tame this temper his mother so wanted gone. One that she thought would be solved by marriage.
But one insufferable thing he could never escape from, was court gossip.
It seemed so rampant and neverending that he wondered if the ladies ever did anything else.
On more than one occasion he heard the ladies talk in hushed whispers when he walked by.
"I heard his dragon almost ate her"
"I do not see what woman would want a man who looks like that"
"I think he looks rather handsome with it"
"Yes, but he has a quarrelsome temper. Blood of the dragon indeed"
"I heard her little sister is to join the court. His dragon may actually swallow her whole with any luck"
"She is a hollow little fool. I heard she has not spoken a word since she was a babe"
He knew better than to listen to any of it. But it seemed to impregnate the walls of the Keep, like a smell that won't go away. Slowly seeping out of the stone to skulk in heavy plunders of smoke across their feet. It smelled of deception and the feeling was so heavy, it was almost liquid.
Like oily blood.
He had barely paid attention to his mother as they all lined up outside the Keep, anticipating the sister's arrival. The older sister had been closest to the dirt road, wanting to see her siblings and father before anyone else. The Royals were all standing shoulder to shoulder at the top of the stone steps, Aemond's eye trained forwards, not focussed on anything in particular. Aegon wishing he were somewhere else, preferably at the end of a barrel of Dornish wine. And Helaena, whose gaze never found anyone's, staring at the ground, watching the ants disappear beneath her slipper.
Alicent almost jumped out of her skin as the lady screamed in delight seeing the familiar colours of her house on the side of the carriage, pulling up to a stop. Aemond's chest inflated and he tightened his grip behind his back, bracing for the undoubtedly emotionally painful exchange he was about to have.
The carriage door flung open and two brothers emerged, clearly a lot older than the sister had been, but nonetheless they scooped her up into a hug. Aemond raised an eyebrow and dared look over at his own brother, who was smiling back at him already, as if suggesting they should hug like that. And at this Aemond did roll his eye.
The three siblings were stuck like this for a moment, talking over and amongst each other like a clutter of turkeys and it was impossible to tell what they were actually saying. The father eventually found his footing outside the carriage, a small figure following small behind him, head lowered. The older sister wrapped her arms around her father's neck but she was quickly pushed away, and not a single one of them seemed to address the youngest, who blindly followed her father.
"Queen Alicent" the father addressed, taking her hand in his to kiss at the ring.
"My Lord, how nice it is to see you and your…family again" she swallowed her words and her roundabout manner made Aegon smile somewhat.
"And you, your Grace. I hope my daughter has been a grateful guest"
There was a faint echo in the background of her horrific laugh, the father closed his eyes slowly, bracing himself for the sound of it.
Alicent merely smiled, "I understand we are to receive your other daughter"
The father stepped aside, but the figure still remained relatively hidden, "Yes, although she is the slowest of my daughters, your Grace. She…finds it difficult to speak"
The father looked behind him again and gripped his other daughter's arm and Aemond noted how hard he held her, so much so that when he tore away the marks remained. And he wondered if he was so rough with his other daughter, the one he thought was the grace of his house.
The girl was presented before Alicent. Yes she shared features with her sister, but hers were much were smoothed out. Her sister, while sharp featured and cheeks plump, her eyes were too close together and her nose seemed unfit for her face. This sister however, her cheekbones were higher and eyes were almond-shaped and she had a faint mole next to her eye on one side.
Her eyes briefly met Alicent's and sent a small smile and a curtsy, doing the same to the Princes and Princess, but never really meeting any of their gazes directly.
"Your Grace, my youngest"
Aemond almost scoffed, he didn't even have the decency to address her by her birth name.
"As I say, your Grace, she is quite slow but her mind is nimble, her other senses remain…unaffected"
All the young woman could do was listen to her father's cruel words about her, her hands were clasped in front of her, one finger fiddling with a golden ring that was on a forefinger. Aemond's gaze raked over her form, the dress she wore just being a bit too tight and he wondered if it might have been in her ownership for a while and had grown too big for it. This made her chest swell against the fabric and her could not help but admire the way she fit into it as she inhaled and exhaled, the golden necklace against her chest moving as well.
It was as if she could feel his burning eye on her and her hand raised to her necklace to turn the pendant over, her gaze briefly meeting the one-eyed Prince's before her cheeks became flushed and averted instantly. In a strange turn of events, it made Aemond smirk, knowing that someone would blush in his presence.
"If you'd like to follow me, I can introduce you to the King" Alicent stepped side to side with her father, "Perhaps your children might amuse themselves"
Her father turned to face his children, a haggard expression on his face, "Make yourselves scarce"
The young woman merely watched as her siblings waltzed away without her, no doubt to drown themselves in drink. And she stood for a moment watching them enjoy themselves before feeling a hand grasp her elbow to find Aegon's face close to hers. She made a surprised sound.
"Extraordinary" he murmured, pulling the poor thing to walk with him, "How much I would give to have a woman who did not speak back"
She attempts to push herself away, but he was much stronger.
"I bet that mouth is as disgusting as those whores on the Street of Silk"
A hand clamped at Aegon's shoulder, shoving him away and the woman looked back to find Aemond parting the two with his body, a hand brushing against her arm to place her behind him.
"Brother, I do not think she desires your company"
With a focussed eye zoned in on his brother, Aemond failed to notice that she had himself wrapped his hand around her wrist. A wave of heat rose to her face s she looked down and saw how his large fingers easily took her, feeling the sheer body heat of the Prince next to her, so much so that she was able to smell the various musks that had attached themselves to him. A faint smell of leather from his clothes, whatever he used for his long, illustrious hair and then something akin to being around an animal. Was this what dragon smelled like? She wondered if he had been riding before meeting her family.
His touch was easily softer than Aegon's grip had been, and for this she was grateful. He had been the first man to lay a hand on her that had not been forceful. The brothers continued to bicker.
"She is not deaf, Aegon. She can hear you"
"Deaf or not, she is a simpleton. If you are to marry her, do yourself a favour and find comfort in others, as I do"
All the blood seemed to rush to your ears in embarrassment and you tore your wrist away from the prince, turning swiftly on your heel in the other direction, away from the harsh words you had unfortunately become accustomed to. Your steps were swift as you heard Aegon cackle with laughter, but you did not see Aemond's saddened stare bore into your back.
With a book clutched longingly to your chest and the echoes of your already drunken siblings echoing down the halls, you pushed a hand to the library door, finding comfort in the quiet of this room in the chaos that was the Red Keep.
It had of course, not been your first time here. You had accompanied your sister on her journey many moons ago, and even then you felt the stares of those at the court boring into you like a flame. The hushed whispers of those were not lost on you, perhaps they also thought you were deaf. But it didn’t matter. You heard the horrible things the ladies said about you and equally, the awful things the men said as well. Although some of those had been about other matters.
Contrary to popular belief, you were not entirely mute. A lot of it was purely by choice. And you had become accustomed to the silence, for simply trying to speak, becoming out of breath and tight about the chest, gave you more anxiety than simply saying nothing at all.
You sighed in relief, finding the library completely empty and almost just how you had left it all those months ago, when you had come here for relief after your sister had accustomed herself to the ladies.
The book, which you had been in the middle of reading last time you were here, was still perched on top of the fireplace in the heart of the room, with a piece of paper sticking out in the spot where you had been rudely torn away. Your hand grazed over the cover, feeling all the intricacies of the people who may have read it before you. The spine was slightly worn away, and the fabric that coated the front page was discoloured. But it was the book smell that enticed you so and you opened where you were to bring to the pages to your face.
It smelled like home. Like a solitary childhood.
It reminded you of who you were.
Someone so disenchanted with life that they would lose themselves in books, fiction or not.
You lifted your skirts, inhaling sharply as the corseted part of the gown dug into you for being too small. Your father refused the request for new dresses, so you had to make do. After all, it was your older sister who was supposed to be enamouring the Prince, not you. So what need was there for fine dresses.
The chair hugged you, its fabric arms tucking you in like a bed and you laid the book before you to pick up where you had left off, the only sound in the room being the flickering of some candles and the uncomfortable sound of your finger tracing the next page.
You had been so interested in your book, the large oak doors opened without a reaction from you.
"I know you are not deaf, my Lady"
The voice startled you, and your head popped round the back of the chair to see the Prince standing closely, smirking and arms tucked behind him. A surprised sound left you as you stood, the book that had been placed on your lap hurtling to the floor as well as a small notebook you had been clutching. Your cursed yourself for the clumsiness but offered him a curtsy all the same before bending to retrieve the books.
He seemed to move too quickly for his stature and had his hand flat on the book before you had even reached out. Turning it over he smiled, bringing the book with him stand,
"Ah, so it was you"
You grasped the small notebook in your hand and stood to meet his gaze, eyes slightly wide with fear. As if he had caught you in his grasp.
He let out a small laugh, which seemed uncharacteristic for him, "Do not worry. I merely found it"
He placed the book down on the table and looked back at her. Even though he had one eye, it seemed to rake over her for an eternity before returning to her face.
"Are you afraid, my Lady?" he asked, still smirking.
Realising that she had been gawking, gripping onto her notebook, she shook her head. He seemed satisfied with the answer, only offering a 'Hm' in response as he began pacing the space around her.
"I may have limited vision, but I can see you are not afraid of me"
His back was facing you now, and with his eye not trained on you, you took the opportunity to study him and his form for a moment.
He was tall and his long silver hair trailed over his back, thick and straight. He certainly had that air of intimidation behind him and seemed to dress as such to scare people. In thick black leather with clasps, he almost looked imprisoned in his own clothes, straining against them. All this study of his form made you look down at yourself, wondering what he thought of you. The small woman without a voice, dressed in the clothes she was made several years ago.
"Your sister says I have a temper" he started, turning slowly to meet your gaze. He studied the way the candles flickered washes of amber and yellowish hues onto the side of your face, bringing the flush of your face out even more. How the flames bounced off the colour of your eyes. He wondered; how could someone be so expressive with simply their gaze.
He could not explain it, but you seemed content in the silence between you.
Slowly, as if movement would trigger the man, you opened the small notebook you carried with you, using the strip of charcoal to scribble something down. Aemond smirked seeing how concentrated you looked staring at the pages, how the line in between your eyebrows popped out slightly as you wrote.
You passed him the notebook, pointing at the page. He handled the book with such care that is astonished you, the way his fingers grasped it, there was a sensitivity to it. You swallowed your breath as his eye ran over the page all too slowly.
I do not know you well, but I have seen no temper.
Without moving an inch, his eye met you again and for a moment you worried you had said something wrong. But he softly handed the notebook back to you, watching your every move.
"Is this how you communicate?" he asked genuinely.
You nodded, as if embarrassed. Thinking of something to write down, you quickly flipped to a new page.
He accepted the notebook again once you had done, looking significantly more nervous this time, the charcoal rubbing black on your fingers.
I hope that the suggestion of our marriage does not embarrass you. If it is to be, I will be an amenable wife.
Aemond read the words on the page a few times, each time saddening him more so than the last. He saw how you fumbled with the charcoal, eyes averted, afraid of his reaction. He sighed so quietly that you did not hear it and only looked up once again when he handed the notebook back to you.
The words seemed to sincere, it bought a pain to his heart to see you think such things.
"Do not reduce yourself to such a thing" he said. But you did not look up.
There was a pregnant pause between you both as he regarded you.
"You are not entirely mute, are you"
You shook your head at his question, he winced at the painful look on your face. Immediately scribbling something down, faster this time.
It is sometimes better not to say anything at all.
Aemond nodded at this, "It is good advice, perhaps it can be bestowed on some within the court"
At this genuinely unexpected quip, you looked up at him letting a laugh escape you, hand immediately coming to your face to hide the smile that bubbled there.
It surprised you how quickly his eyes lit up upon hearing your voice. You could not help but look at him as he smiled before you, your cheeks firing up with embarrassment and you cleared your throat almost immediately, trying to dispel the air.
"You have a lovely voice" he said. It was here that you realised you were still smiling, eyes on his face, trying to find any signs of deception. For a second, you opened your mouth, tempted to say something. But the confidence quickly died as a block constricted your throat and the breath was expelled, but you nodded anyway, in thanks.
Do you read?
He nodded, gesturing to the book you had been reading, now reserved to the side table, all but forgotten.
"I do. I come here often" he said quietly, pacing about again.
You could no longer hide the way you looked at him. Your sister had said he was quick to rise and that she had been scared stiff at the interactions with him, that he had given her no notion of acceptance or equality. She spoke like he thought he was above everyone else.
But this was not the person you saw before you. Before you was some so soft spoken, you could barely hear him most of the time. Someone who enjoyed the serenity of a quiet library with the only sound being the flickering of the candles and the rain hitting the stone walls outside. You envisioned him being the only one to people-watch at parties, not amusing himself with the prospect of dancing. And perhaps not entertaining the thought of speaking to a woman directly.
"I come here when people like your sister remark on my tempestuous nature. Solitude is the only remedy for it" he paused looking over at you, "I imagine it is the same for you"
You scribbled something down, meeting his gaze when you handed it over.
Perhaps it is just that we are misunderstood. Solitude offers comfort.
A smile tugged at his lips once more and he thought that this is the most he had smiled in a long time.
"And books, it seems"
You nod genuinely, your eyes lighting up with an idea. Placing the notebook to one side, you rush past the Prince, giving him an opportune moment to feel the fabric of your skirts pass his thigh and the whips of your hair drag across the leather of his arm, releasing their scent. And with his eyes closed, he relished in these perfumes.
He allowed himself to think about what it would be like to live in that scent. To have it around him.
You placed a book in his hand, looking up at him excitedly. His long fingers grazed over the cover, admiring the gold leaf applied to it.
"Is this your favourite?" he asked, noting how close you remained after placing the book in his hand, though this you had not realised yet. You nodded, smiling as he opened the cover page to inspect the contents. A book he had not read.
He squinted at the pages, confused and looked back at you, barely needing to move his head since he was so tall.
"You can read this?" he asked. Ever humble, you shrugged your shoulders, "This is Valyrian" he sounded almost as if he did not believe you.
But you had read enough books for a lifetime already and you intended to prove to the Prince that what you were implying was truth.
Taking a deep breath, you lean forward and point to a word in Valyrian, inspecting the swirling text upside down. It had been a page right in the middle, telling the history of Aegon the Conqueror's mission to the Riverlands.  
"…i-istan…hae…" you took another breath, not meeting the Prince's eye, nervous that if you did all confidence would surely die, "…darys…"
"…dārys" Aemond softly corrected. You could not help but look up at him now, the eye that had been filled with mischief and confidence, now had something else there. You licked your lips and motioned for him to repeat what he has said so you might copy, "dārys…"
"…dārys…h-he….he…" you struggled on the 'h' sounds of the next words, so paused to gather your breath and push past the newly developing blocks. But the Prince waited patiently, more enamoured at the fact that you were attempting to speak before him and that this was possibly the most you had said to anyone in months, perhaps years.
The mere sound of your own voice surprised you, but concentrated on finishing the sentence, you licked your lips once again in concentration. Aemond almost laughed as the line between your eyebrows returned, "…hen ry…vest, vesteros…o-o…" you sighed at yourself, frustrated. The words beginning with vowels were always the hardest.
"…ondoso…" you managed, pushing past the breath quickly and it was the loudest word you spoke in the whole sentence. It felt clumsy and wrong, but if you had looked ahead, you would have seen the hooded look of Aemond looking down at you, mouthing along with you in silent appreciation.
"…rhaenys…" you finished, looking up at the prince. He closed the book and repeated the word back at you but with the trilled 'r' that was difficult for many to pronounce. You smiled, fiddling with your hair, only now realising how close you were to him so you were able to read the book.
You stepped back, suddenly feeling embarrassed and hot. As if you'd been caught doing something you shouldn’t.
"Very good" he said. The smile on your face was difficult to keep at bay and he placed the book to one side, "It is not an easy language to learn. From books?" he asked, to which you nodded.
You were grateful he did not mention anything about your slowness, about the stumbling over the words. He simply complimented your ability to even read and speak any Valyrian and that was all you wanted from him.
You scribbled down.
Perhaps you could teach me how to pronounce it properly.
"I would enjoy that, my Lady" he stepped forward to give you the notebook back, only to keep a hold on it when you tried to take it. His other hand laid on top of hers and all of a sudden, it all felt so real.
You could feel his fingers rub over yours with a strangely soft touch and all the heat rose to your face again.
"It is a brave thing, to show yourself to someone" he said, looking down at you, "Someday, I hope to do the same for you" he said quietly.
You flicked from one of his eyes to his eyepatch, knowing that this was the source of his own pain. All the things the ladies and your sister had said about this man. Saying he was monstrous, tempestuous and someone to fear. It was clear that these people just did not know him.
"Being with you is like being alone" he said quietly, almost to say it to himself.
Your other hand came to his arm, hand smoothing over the soft leather, reaching out to touch him to see if he was real. Your smaller hands barely came around his arm but you squeezed it, offering whatever comfort you could.
At his words, you nodded in agreement, and he could see the sincerity in your eyes. Perhaps he merely wanted to be understood, like everyone would like, but something that people like yourselves was difficult to find.
Dropping the notebook, the charcoal fell to the ground and snapped in two and before Aemond could open his mouth to question, you laid your head against his chest, hearing and feeling his heartbeat through the thick leathers.
He stood stock still for a moment, hands suspended in the warm air around you until he carefully laid them on your shoulders, pulling the hair over your shoulder. And for a moment he could not tell if he was greatly confused, shocked, horrified or comforted by the feeling.
A shudder rattled down your back as you felt his chin rest on top of your head.
"Kirimvose" he whispered, making a burst of air leave you with a laugh. It sounded mildly forced, and it warmed your chest in a way that bloomed across your whole body, knowing now that despite his discomfort, he had said it.
Thank you.
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5K notes · View notes
saerins · 1 year
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─── 𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋
+ jing yuan x f!reader | wc 1.9k | content: fluff, established relationship, slightly suggestive
notes: this is it babes , i’m hopelessly down bad for this man and it’s been what … a week ? help !! but also , first shot at him so i hope this isn’t too ooc or anything >_< rbs appreciated muwah !!
summary: where you come to realise that jing yuan can be just like you, in all the good ways.
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jing yuan is a busy, busy man.
but surely it isn’t that selfish for you to wish that all mornings are like this? this; with your boyfriend by your side past ten in the morning, half-naked under your covers and sound asleep. luckily, he doesn’t have any urgent matters to look into today and fu xuan has told you to make sure he gets enough rest today before the pace picks up again.
apparently, he’d worked himself ragged the past week and earns even the worry of the master diviner herself.
when he’s not general, when the armor comes off and the vulnerability switches on—jing yuan’s your boyfriend, and a very doting one, at that. the kind who spoils you endlessly with what he can, the one who’s quick to notice your every behaviour and tendencies, no matter how big or small.
the sunlight slips past the curtains, a sliver falling perfectly onto his face and down his arms. jing yuan is facing you, eyes closed, hair down and looking every bit the perfect specimen of a man.
that’s why you can’t help yourself, can’t help running your index finger down the line of his triceps, down to his forearms, appreciating the way the goosebumps sear delicately across his skin. you can faintly see the scar across his chest—an outcome of his earlier days ravaging battlefields, before he became general.
you still remember the small conversation the two of you had when you first saw it, when he first visited your humble house, when he first saw all of you and you, all of him.
“you don’t think it’s unsightly?” he asked.
it was funny, you thought, how jing yuan cared so much about what an ordinary girl like you thought of him.
you shook your head, accepting the kiss he leaned in to give. “not at all, general. nothing is as long as it’s on you.”
the fingers that trailed down his arms have made their way onto his hair, twirling it around the finger before it falls peacefully back onto his shoulders. his gray locks are smoother and prettier than your own hair—you find yourself envious.
how is jing yuan so pretty simply like this?
fingertips graze gently over his cheeks, thumb caressing the mole below his left eye. you smile idly to yourself, stupidly dreaming about what it would be like to spend the rest of your life next to jing yuan, much like the lovestruck idiot you are.
you think maybe jing yuan wouldn’t even think that far. he has far too many important matters to think about, matters that concern the safety and longevity of the xianzhou luofu.
besides, the two of you have only been together for two years. you’ve known friends who only got engaged five years into their relationship. aren’t yours just like an infant compared to that?
“do you do this every morning or am i just lucky to catch when it happens today?”
his voice snaps you out of your delusions, your hand instinctively jumping back towards yourself. jing yuan laughs at your sudden movement, and you curse yourself for only being able to think about how good he looks when he’s happy like that, when his eyes turn into little crescents and the way his mouth curves much like a child would.
“sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you,” jing yuan says, letting you meet his golden eyes, imitating your earlier position by caressing the side of your cheek, smiling softly at you. “good morning.”
grateful that he doesn’t harp on it, you smile right back, leaning into his palm. “good morning,” you greet, happily accepting his invitation into his arms, leaning your head into the crook of his neck. “do not ever mention that again,” you make sure to tell him, still slightly embarrassed with yourself. “and that was a one time thing.”
jing yuan catches how humiliated you are, with the way you’re pouting and speaking in hushed tones. he chuckles, taking your hand and kissing the back of your palm. “whatever you say, princess.”
it still makes your heart skip a beat—his pet names. it’s either princess, or angel, sometimes love. you love all of them. anything, as long as it’s from him.
“i am curious though,” he says, kissing the top of your head, lingering there momentarily to catch the whiff of your shampoo from the night before. “what were you thinking about? you seem happy.”
you’re not sure whether he means to tease you, because you’re at least sure he knows the rough ballpark. what else could you have been thinking about besides him? still, you entertain him anyway.
“you.”
you feel him stiffen a little before relaxing.
“yeah? what about me?”
you can just feel him smiling to himself, half happy and half teasing you, but mostly the latter. and maybe you’re just overwhelmed with bliss today that you don’t mind sharing, though it takes you a while to compose your erratically beating heart before you can say it out.
“i was just thinking… what it would be like,” you pause, hoping he won’t think you’re getting ahead of yourself, “to be with you forever.”
jing yuan’s fingers don’t stop playing with yours, and he doesn’t stop rubbing your sides with his other hand. it’s his way of assuring you that you’re not stepping over any boundaries, that he doesn’t think you’re too much. it’s his silent way of telling you don’t worry, he loves you.
“that’s what you think about when you watch me sleep, huh?” he chuckles and you know he’s teasing this time.
“jing yuan,” you call his name, strict, tilting up to lock gazes with him, “i swear if you—”
but he takes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, leaning you up to kiss him, and he makes sure it’s a long, deep one—makes sure you know how he feels. despite how it looks, he’s gentle. the pads of his fingers don’t hurt your cheeks and the way he kisses you is soft and slow, because he wouldn’t dream of hurting you. ever.
when he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your kiss-swollen lips, he smiles again, with so much adoration you feel like you can melt away, like he’s your sun and you hopelessly orbit around him, like he’s your entire world.
“saying such sweet things when i’m already hopelessly in love with you,” he pauses, a low chuckle exhaled, “how cruel.”
you bite your lower lip, suppressing a grin. “i only do that as revenge,” you say, playing along.
“oh, do you now?”
“mhm, it’s your fault, really, general, for making me fall so deep so quick,” you confess, feeling your heart soar as he presses your foreheads together. “so i thought you should get a taste of your own medicine.”
jing yuan’s lashes flutter against yours as you both stare into each other’s eyes, completely enraptured. “don’t worry, you already have.”
sometimes, you’re afraid that his feelings for you have gone stale. that perhaps, with all this time apart, maybe he realises that he doesn’t need you, doesn’t want you, would do better without you.
but times like these—times where he anchors you down, lets you remember that he’s human, just like you—you know that it’s not the case. because just like you, he can be so hopelessly in love too. he can dream of you, and think of you endlessly throughout the day. even when he barely has time to correspond with you, even when he’s thinking of ways to prolong peace in your world.
jing yuan will always love you.
he clears his throat when he pulls away, looking sheepishly to the side. “you know, i was afraid of something when i caught you smiling.”
you raise a brow, tilting your head to the side, utterly confused. what would someone like him have to be afraid of?
as though he senses your question, he sits up and rifles through his side of the drawer, and you follow suit, draping your blanket over your own half-naked body. you see him taking something into his palms, hiding it before unfurling his fingers delicately in front of you.
it makes you gasp, makes you feel like maybe your heart has stopped beating for a second.
“jing yuan, what is this?”
the solitaire diamond ring glows radiantly in the palm of his hands, the scalloped band studded with natural white diamonds.
for the first time since you’ve met him, you see him being embarrassed. “exactly what you think it is,” he recovers, taking your left hand in his. “i’ve kept this for a while now, wondering when would be considered the right time.”
it’s hard for you to believe. jing yuan is a highly sought-after man. he has everything anyone would want in a husband—yet here he is, declaring his lifelong love to you. you can’t imagine that the same general who leads the luofu, the same soldier who’s protected everyone and made this peaceful life a possibility, is the same person who says he wants you.
“y/n, i knew i wanted to be with you for our entire lives from that first night we had dinner together,” jing yuan confesses, smiling just thinking about how you’d told him about your family, and about how passionate you seemed about taking care of the orphaned kids around your area. “i’m sorry we don’t spend much time together, but i’m working on that.”
he doesn’t have to apologise—you know it comes with the job. you want to tell him that, but you’re still a little stunned about all of this that you can’t get a single word out.
jing yuan’s golden eyes stare straight at you, the desire and love so apparent it overwhelms you, in a good way. “yesterday, fu xuan asked me something—what would you regret the most if the world ended tomorrow?”
fu xuan? is she in on this?
“and the answer came faster than i thought it would.” he brings the diamond ring up in between your faces, grinning from ear to ear, childlike. “it’s that i didn’t get to spend enough time with you, that i didn’t get to marry you.”
is he really about to do this?
“i don’t want to rush you into—”
“yes.”
it came rolling off your tongue before you can stop yourself, and jing yuan blinks at you, completely speechless, before he breaks out into a wide smile, hand on the back of your neck and pulling you towards him, planting a big kiss on your lips.
(jing yuan finds it amusing how honest you are; it’s one of the qualities he finds most attractive in you. every single day he finds out more and more things about you that makes him fall even more in love. you’re his every weakness and yet his every strength—you’re dangerous, the good kind.)
before he puts the ring on your finger, he pauses and clears his throat. “y/n, be my wife?”
(he figures he should ask properly, even though he already knows your answer. the grin you give him is enough to send him into overdrive, enough happiness to last him the rest of his and your long lifespan.)
“make me your wife, general.”
(and when he puts the ring on your finger, he knows. he knows that you’re it and he’s going to protect you his whole goddamn life. that he’s going to love you like he can love no other.)
“looks like you’re mine forever now, y/n.”
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yanxidarlings · 9 months
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YANDERE HP GOLDEN ERA: SLYTHERIN BOYS X DORMMATE READER
continuation of my previous post (i got caught up in getting out my anthony goldstein headcanons was it obvious). okay so full disclosure, i haven't read the fanfictions lorenzo and mattheo are from (i only read yandere is it obvious) (i see their faceclaims and cannot. exclude), so if i'm not portraying them correctly shout at me. but just for a moment, imagine having the 79-80 liner slytherin boys yandere for their dormmate? (okay there is a loophole i'll write for male readers/darlings if asked).
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maybe they've known the reader/darling since childhood, and the sudden close proximity magnifies the possessive and obsessive tendencies they were developing towards the darling. or, the darling could suddenly get sorted into slytherin and now they have a roommate they did not expect to have. for the second scenario i don't think the darlings personality would matter much - either way, they're all apprehensive about this really cute kid they suddenly are dorming with.
maybe they give the reader a hard time at first (although this is only really likely to happen for a darling in a different house, or a muggleborn darling) but whoo boy if anyone else thinks of teasing the reader, they'll get hell from our dear slytherins here. actually, anyone who the reader pays mind to becomes a target of torment and bullying by draco and his gang. especially potter. please, reader, for potters own sanity and the good of the wizarding world, do not approach, think about or even look in the direction of harry. it ends in an ugly tantrum from draco, prolonged sarcasm from theodore, silence from blaise, aggression from mattheo and teasing from lorenzo. crabbe and goyle won't be carrying your books for you for the next week either.
when they get like this, it'll be the darling that'll have to make it up to them, or risk having it all drag out until one of them gets over it naturally.
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GREGORY GOYLE & VINCENT CRABBE (cast josh herdman, jamie waylett):
they're all horribly possessive and jealous by default, but generally, crabbe and goyle are the easiest to deal with, they both have a soft spot for their darling, and are pretty used to being bossed around, the second choice and having to share. they're also the easiest to appease, putting food on crabbe's plate is enough to make him happy, and paying goyle any mind will go a long way.
they don't need constant attention (draco), validation (draco), and affection (draco), from their darling, and are content just being in their life.
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BLAISE ZABINI (cast louis cordice):
after them, i honestly don't know who's worse. going in alphabetical order, blaise appears to be calm and uncaring when it comes to his darling, but do not be fooled, he's not going to sit back and let his darling get whisked away by the likes of a half blood (sorry mattheo), spolit daddy's boy (apologies draco), spolit mommy's boy (soz enzo) or someone who's one lab accident away from becoming a supervillain (blaise's words not mine theo).
blaise tolerates the rest of the slytherins for now, but if any of them think he'd ever fully agree to sharing with the likes of them, they are wrong. he fantasises about taking his darling away from the world after graduating, and probably has his mother trying to arrange a marriage the moment he decides they're his.
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DRACO MALFOY (cast tom felton):
unlike blaise, draco is not even a little bit subtle about his possesiveness over his darling, he only see's the other slytherins as tools to ensure his darlings safety and happiness at hogwarts, and does not bother to pretend like he isn't planning to kidnap move the reader into malfoy manor the minute they graduate. actually, he couldn't wait that long.
he'll look for any opportunity to have the malfoy family gain custody of his darling. all the more better if his darling comes from a dysfunctional household. but either way, he'll make sure his family is all they have to turn to.
all i know about lorenzo is that he has mommy and daddy issues so i'll have to piggybank off that. he'll present himself as the 'sane' one, if his darling is complaining about the behaviour of the other slytherins, enzo wholeheartedly agree's with them "i don't know what's wrong with all of them - you sure you didn't slip any amortentia into their drinks?" he becomes a safe haven from the possessive obsession his dormmates seem to share for their darling.
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LORENZO BERKSHIRE (fancast louis patridge):
lorenzo acts the most normal, but don't be fooled, he's just as obsessed as the rest of them. enzo is just better at hiding it. he too, frequently thinks about whisking them away, but is much less finite about it; holing his darling up in his house isn't the end goal. he could honestly live with sharing them with his fellow slytherins, but this is all assuming that the reader takes well to his attempts at becoming the 'sane one'.
if enzo isn't able to successfully befriend them, he'll have to settle for being the 'mean one'. teasing and humiliation follows his darling, as does he. it's not severe, but it's probably the push the reader needs to fall into deep depression and anxiety. so please, take the sane bait.
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MATTHEO RIDDLE (fancast benjamin wadsworth):
mattheo doesn't exactly have a family reputation to uphold, blaise, draco, enzo and theo would want to keep up a respectable reputation, whatever that is in pureblood society, but mattheo? the dark lords son? he's entirely unhinged.
if lorenzo is the 'sane one', mattheo is the 'crazy one'.
he doesn't really care what his darling, or others, think of his behaviour. if he wants to spend time with them, he's going to. he'll pull them out of class, drag them away from the other slytherins, just to skip rocks in the black lake with them, or raid the kitchens. he doesn't really bother hiding his yandere tendencies, he'll actively tell his darling not to talk to certain people "because i said so" "stop asking questions", and will refuse to elaborate further. sometimes, there will be disturbing moments of honesty between him and his darling; he'll admit that he's obsessed with them, and threaten to attack people they pay attention to. and he'll tell them that they belong to him.
sometimes it's frightening and sometimes he'll come across as sweet. he is both predictable and unpredictable, which puts his darling at unease around him.
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THEODORE NOTT (fancast lorenzo zurzolo):
theodore uses guilt to garner his darlings sympathy, all the more easier if they are childhood friends. he'll make sure they know about his harsh childhood, and make them feel responsible for his wellbeing. he's the only one to create a sense of dependency not built upon threats. out of all the slytherins, he gets to know his darling the best, he'll use guilt, emotional breakdowns and dark secrets to create a sense of obligation towards him.
theo is the most comforting of the slytherins to be around, he's quiet and the only one who they can spend time with without feeling much pressure. he demands the most of their attention, and is by far the most possessive. whilst i can see the other slytherins finding a way to deal with sharing their darling amonst themselves, if the rest don't back off eventually (stop dreaming theo) (they won't), he's the most inclined to just get rid of them - he can't stand it when his darling is around anyone but him, he wakes early to walk his darling to class just so they won't get caught up in the busy halls, where eyes can wonder and other people can have a chance to interact with his darling.
theodore pairs with them for every project, which leads to some ugly arguments between him and blaise, who only really get's his fill of his darling by sitting next to them in class. and draco, and mattheo and enzo and even goyle who was hoping the reader would help get him a good grade for once.
out of all of them, draco, goyle and blaise are the most patient. they want their darling to love them, not see them as monsters to flinch away from.
theodore, lorenzo and mattheo will take whatever they can get. lorenzo in particular doesn't want his darling to fear him but won't let them get away with trying to escape or disobedience. mattheo doesn't mind being the villain if he must be, but his heart clenches when his darling acts so obviously distrustful of him. theodore is the least patient, and if his darling starts to shy away from him, he snaps. at them, at the rest of the slytherin boys. but he's also easy to keep content, so long as his darling is always by his side.
similarly, blaise just enjoys being in the presence of his darling, and doesn't feel the need to cuddle up to them constantly like draco and enzo do. mattheo is a loose canon, and sometimes is fine being near them, other times he wants skin to skin contact 25/8.
they're hopeless at sharing, and only really get along for the sake of their darling. there are only really two ways this can end; theodore finally snaps and tries to off the rest of them after graduation, or they somehow come to an agreement on sharing, maybe they each get their own day a week
monday for draco, tuesday for blaise, wednesday for theo, thursday for enzo, and friday for mattheo. goyle and crabbe probably aren't taken seriously enough to get given their own day, so then the weekends are spent sharing (fighting).
the only time the boys will work in tandem is when someone attempts to take their darling and their attention, away. best example, darling starts dating someone. which is already pretty improbable, considering they give the reader no alone time whatsoever. but let's just say the darling here is going on a date with cormac mclaggen (get a grip, darling), any grudges they've been holding against each other are off, mclaggen has just signed his death warrant.
mattheo and theodore do most of the dirty work, whilst lorenzo distracts the reader. draco and blaise cover up their tracks, so it seems like whatever they did to mclaggen was an untimely accident. or have it blamed on someone else. goyle and crabbe intimidate anyone who tries to get close to the darling from then on.
they might hate sharing with each other, but they truly despise sharing with an 'outsider'.
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percheduphere · 5 months
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I'm kinda curious, especially since a lot of people have very different views on this: How do you think Loki and Mobius would be in an actual, official, romantic relationship? I kinda think they would keep doing what they're doing but I don't really know what level of romantic stuff they would do. They're already pretty physically affectionate, but would they do that in public since both of 'em are pretty secretive about their normal emotion? They compliment each other but would they use things like honey and dear in a serious way? Etc. So...How do you think this time couple would be like?
I adore this ask because all my headcanons about Loki and Mobius being in an established relationship are SOFT. The best part is, canon supports this.
While I do agree that Loki and Mobius's dynamic will continue the way it has been, I also think a certain level of emotional intensity will be brought into the mix, increasing their general chemistry in front of others ten-fold. The banter, the idea spit-balling, the lack of personal space, the smiles, laughs, and long gazes ... imagine all of that dialed up. Loki loves as hard as he hates and is a hedonistic show off. Mobius has loved Loki since Day 1 and repressed his feelings for long enough. Are they really going to be reserved around each other once they're securely in a relationship?
No! They will be the most sickeningly lovey-dovey couple in the MCU.
WORDS OF AFFIRMATION
S1 had Mobius advocating for and complimenting Loki in private and in front of others. S2 had Loki reciprocating. It is not hard to imagine them becoming fiercely protective of one another on and off the field. Cross one, the other is crossed. They are a two-package deal, and both are vicious when it comes to wielding words on behalf of the other's dignity.
As for terms of endearment, I can imagine Loki calling Mobius "Darling" on spare, particularly emotional occasions. Mobius, on the other hand, still has Don in him. "Sweetheart" and "Honey" are very in-character pet names he would use. Both reserve usage of these names in private as Loki hates blushing in front of others, though Mobius has a tendency to slip when he's multitasking at work.
PHYSICAL TOUCH
The hug in S1E5 seems to have opened the door for physical affection come S2E1. Loki and Mobius (especially Mobius) touch one another with affection, attentiveness, and protectiveness on instinct. Despite not being romantically involved in S2, they move around one another the way two lovers in a small kitchen might. Once in a relationship, they will continue to do this but certain gestures will hold more meaning, in particular: holding hands.
One of Mobius's first gestures of kindness, which Loki initial rejected, was a handshake in S1E1.
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The second time Mobius offers his hand, Loki takes it and uses Mobius's compassion as an opportunity to steal the time twister from his pocket.
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Mobius offers another handshake in S1E5, which Loki declines in favor of a heartfelt embrace that he extends to Mobius and Mobius happily accepts.
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Physically (and symbolically), Loki and Mobius's relationship was founded on Mobius extending a hand and Loki refusing it, betraying it, and finally taking it. I therefore see them holding hands regularly, every day, because holding onto one another is grounding, comforting, and reminds them of these earlier moments in their relationship that they've overcome together.
As these two are not shy about tight embraces in public, I doubt either would feel shy about chaste kisses either. They are so in-sync and adoring of another that it goes without saying that when they have sex, they make love passionately. They communicate with touching just as much as words, so heteronormative "bottom and top" designations are thrown out the window and into the dumpster (where they belong). How they have sex conveys how they feel about one another in that specific moment.
PDA
Among others, I can see them being nauseatingly sweet. We already know what bystanders look like when they tease and bicker with one another:
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And make no mistake that Loki would up the dramatics with PDA just to gross Thor out. Thor making a "barfing gesture" cracks Loki up every time, and Mobius, resigned, goes along with it because who doesn't want to get peppered with kisses?
QUALITY TIME
I haven't seen anyone point this out yet, but it's hilarious to me that S2E3 starts in broad daylight and cuts to evening by the time Loki and Mobius stroll out with cracker jacks in their hands.
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Loki looks a little annoyed but he is going along with it for Mobius's sake. Sightseeing at the World's Fair makes Mobius happy, and whatever makes Mobius happy, Loki will indulge even if he's not interested. Like that key lime pie he didn't eat.
If this is their relationship when it's platonic, then be ready for Mobius to take date night very seriously.
Dinner and a night at the opera? Naturally.
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Eating pastries and drinking coffee while people-watching in Paris? Absolutely.
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Biking side-by-side along the Dutch Coastal Route in the Netherlands? Of course!
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Mobius will take care of all the planning and Loki will enjoy sharing new experiences together. On (frequent) occasion, Mobius will surprise Loki by choosing an activity he knows Loki will enjoy, such as visiting an ancient library or perusing fine clothes at a bazaar.
Point being, these two have always enjoyed each other's company and have fun together. In a relationship, they will actively take time out of their schedule to bond more purposefully!
ACTS OF SERVICE
Both Loki and Mobius are strong when it comes to communicating love through acts of service. Where Mobius is a little higher on words of affirmation, I believe Loki is slightly higher here. Loki pays attention to Mobius's interests, habits, and creature comforts. He will commit to memory the exact way Mobius prefers his steaks, sandwiches, salads, and coffee prepared.
Mobius, for his part, will take care of things Loki doesn't like doing. Taking out the garbage? Done. Washing the car and filling it with gas? Did it while you were asleep. Filling out paperwork? Say no more.
Sadly, I don't think either of them have a talent for cooking. Loki grew up with palace servants. Mobius relied on the TVA cafeteria. They will attempt to conquer the kitchen together, but the end result is always either a fire or a flood. It's okay. Loki can name Mobius's top 5 take-out places off the top of his head.
GIFTS
Neither Loki nor Mobius strike me as big on gifts, but when they feel the sentiment, they give one another meaningful things that only they understand.
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I think Mobius may be slightly more inclined for gift-giving. He knows what material objects mean most to Loki and why. Loki, meanwhile, might feel challenged in this area. Not for a lack of enthusiasm, mind, but because Mobius doesn't have many material desires beyond a jet ski. Loki would like to think he's more creative than getting Mobius a new one once a year.
In short, Loki and Mobius already engage in the 5 love languages. Being together will only strengthen what they do for one another, much to their friends' longsuffering annoyance.
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missyandthemisfits · 5 days
Text
Tokyo Rev - Sexual Orientation Headcannons
18+ Random Personal Headers
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Mikey - Pansexual
Doesn't really go out of his way to find mates, truly they just find their way to him. Has a slight preference to women but that's just because boobs are awesome. 
Draken - Hetero with a capital HETERO
He knows what he likes and he's never questioned it, really. Has the idea of it crossed his mind? Yea. Nothing against it either, just not for him. 
Baji - Questioning 
He's pretty sure he's into women, but between the age of 14-17, really finds himself questioning these sudden specs of romantic feelings for certain dudes...no one is the wiser.
Chifuyu - Straight with Bi Tendencies 
Chifuyu is very into women - but also he'd be lying if he said he's never uh...experimented before. Decided the only pegging he enjoyed was with/by a beautiful woman.
Mitsuya - Bi
He has fairly recently discovered he is indeed attracted to men and women and he's fairly comfortable coming out to his people too. He's confident enough to wear it pretty proudly after a very short insecure period. 
Hakkai - It's giving Gay
At some point in life, Hakkai realizes that the real reason he's so awkward around women is because he's aware he's 'supposed' to want to date them and find them enticing but...doesn't. Men are more his speed and he's starting to be okay with that. Has yet to tell Taiju-
Smiley - Straight, but has dabbled
Smiley will try anything once - and has, but it's not his thing. Just thinking about a woman in a lewd position drives him insane, men just don't do it for him. 
Angry - Questioning (but may or may not have a preference for women)
The thought of romance in general kinda scares the crap outta him cause he's always wondering if he's doing enough or if perhaps he's doing too much - so given that, of course he hasn't settled on a person, or sex, of choice. Whoever it is, he just wants to make them happy - inside and outside of the bedroom
Kazutora - Believes he's Hetero, Turns out his Bi
Kazutora is well into his adulthood when he finally figures out he's attracted to the same sex as well as the opposite sex and while he doesn't necessarily like the idea of a relationship at first, he grows to understand he needs that sort of intimacy. Once he starts, he can't get enough of it.
Akkun - Straight, but has dabbled.
It was less about curiosity for him and more of a getting caught up in the moment as some dude, equally as drunk, came onto him. The kiss was fine...but he quickly decided it's not his cup of tea.
Takuya - Demisexual 
Takuya is into men and women but even more so, he's into emotional intimacy and connection. You can be the most attractive person he's ever seen but if there's no real connection, there's 0 chance of you guys being more than friends. Thems the breaks.
Taiju - Very Hetero
Taiju is strictly a taco eater, nothing to question and no reason for any complicated discussions with himself - he knows what he wants and needs and what he NEEDS is the bodacious body of a curvy woman-
Yuzuha - Bi with wavering preferences 
Yuzuha is bisexual but goes through phases where she's either only looking for men or only looking for women. She's got no idea why she's like this, her brain is just wired like that - can relate!
Kokonoi - Bisexual
Of course he's into men and women, he doesn't have a real preference either. Either is just fine - but he does like them very pretty, long eyelashes and all that jazz. He thinks he's not picky, he totally is. 
Inui - A Lazy Pansexual
Romance takes quite a bit of energy, energy that Inui could be using for other "more productive" things - but also he likes... I dunno, everyone? Like, he genuinely does not care what you identify as, if he's down he's down.
Ran - Straight and promiscuous 
He is, I kid you not, damn near insatiable sexually. Only gets it on with women and has only really had a few real relationships, but he's had more than his fair share of lovers.
Rindou - Demi, Sapio 
Eh, he's not much of a people person if we're being completely honest. Doesn't discriminate against sexes, just doesn't wanna waste his time with meaningless sex. Despite his complicated titles, he's very simple to please and is a fairly easygoing partner.
Senju - Lesbian with Straight Tendencies 
@me if ya want, but Senju is someone who adores female companionship above all when it comes to relationships. She can kiss dudes no problem and has had several crushes but she can't really see a future with them.
You can’t convince me Takemichi isn’t not so secretly Bi
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hiraya-rawr · 1 year
Text
— to pass the kamisato standards .
synopsis !! kamisato reader introduces their lover to their siblings, ayato and ayaka! just hcs and brainrotting
characters !! thoma, diluc, childe, al haitham, gorou, kazuha
contains !! gn reader, written while sleep deprived please don't judge if it doesn't make sense huhuh, a bit of a character study on how the kamisatos perceive other characters!
note !! been posting more lately! im in a good mood and would like to share more content ☺️ i also have drafts saved up. also, have you checked out the @/yaepublishinghouse ? i've joined the writing team!
T H O M A
Ah, Thoma? You don't even need to ask. he's already part of the family!
the safest option, really. they already considered him family long before your heart started fluttering around the househelper.
"well, it's honestly about time. ayaka and i have long noticed your affections for thoma," ayato smirks as you two turn red, "don't think i don't know what's going on in my own household, do you?"
not much would change after having your relationship official; thoma might be the only one to experience the change in people's treatment of him as the three kamisatos encourage him to be more proud in his status!
"we're going to get married, don't let people trample over you like that!" you pout. surprisingly enough, thoma is quick to adjust to a "noble behavior" while still keeping his friendly boyish charms.
D I L U C
foreign nobility? for real? your siblings would worry, do you want to live away from them?
thoma might be the only one a little more open to the idea. sure, he's sad but he respects your choice and who you love.
"Mondstadt is a great place. I'm sure it'll be a home for you, just like how Inazuma became a home for me."
ayato is more or less suspicious. "I've heard... rumors," he says carefully, "That man is suspicious to say the least. I'm not sure I trust him."
all in all, with how closed off inazuma seems to be, the kamisatos would be most reluctant to send you off to another nation for some solitary man with a questionable schedule.
C H I L D E
A fatui harbinger? Are you out of your mind!
no. no no no. you are not going all the way to snezhnaya for a fatui harbinger. love is fleeting, your affections will pass.
you really don't need him -your siblings would try to convince you- he has money? the kamisatos have money too. he's someone of rank? so does your siblings. what do you mean you love him so much?
"He's a family kind of guy! He's really sweet!" you'll plead and they'll still shake their heads no.
In fact, Ayato would go on a thorough investigation about exactly what the harbinger has been up to. From the incident in liyue to the homicidal tendencies.
unless you decide to elope, there's no way your siblings would give their blessing.
A L H A I T H A M
the scribe of the academia is a fine man, but some call him a... lunatic.
this one is a 50/50.
admittedly, your siblings are content with his status and background. he works under sumeru's government, just like the kamisatos, and was nominated for the highest ranking position only second to an archon.
he works rationally too! smart and efficient. that's great— but why is he such a blunt smartass?
Throughout the meeting with him, Ayato has a plastered smile on his face. Each conversation seems like a landmine, waiting to explode, trying to best the other with words.
Ayaka is more or less nervously sweating beside them, but you suppose you're glad that they're getting along!
G O R O U
oh? the general of watatsumi? an interesting choice!
ayato considers it a political win. with the kamisato name tied together with the general of watatsumi island, this could lead to better peace relations! and the kamisatos would be the head of it all.
being a general is no easy task, thats something ayato could greatly respect. meanwhile, ayaka and gorou are already familiar friends!
it's a little sad that watatsumi is on another island, but at least you get to stay in inazuma! you're also happy that you get to contribute to inazumas progressive politics as part of the kamisato household, living up to your duty.
K A Z U H A
the wandering samurai. . . ? are you sure?
while a good friend of the kamisato household, kazuha has already left the noble lifestyle of the kaedeharas.
it's not that your siblings want you to marry into nobility, it's just that they'll feel more comfortable if you were in a familiar environment.
meanwhile, kazuha is constantly on the move, never staying at one place. they trust him immensely but are you sure you're up for that change?
kazuha is a good choice, but a worrisome one nonetheless.
commissions || general m.list || ko-fi
taglist !! @absolut-wildflower @boundedbyfate @sadlonelybagel @eissaaaa @ladycoleigh @nejibot @milkypompon @bloodreaper08 @irethepotato @x-zho @mich-cola @mxsomn @ackrylik @nicebonescomrade @starforecasts @stygianoir @yuminako @eccedentesiast-sapphic @nebulaera @nuttytani @klutzkat @shizunxie @bluriie @aestellia @abyislan08
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electricsynthesis · 16 days
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keith galraisms post
physical characteristics
-his hair grows like 3 times as fast as a normal persons. it grows unusually thick and weirdly layered and textured. i imagine it having a texture that isnt curly or wavy or straight, but is sort of coarse and pointed. dense hair. this is why he has a weird mullet. he cuts it and then he wakes up a week later and the mullets back. i reblogged a post with this exact hc like 2 days ago but i stg ive had this opinion for years
-somewhere around 19-20~ his canines fall out. literally like humans' teeth do with baby teeth. they get wiggly and then fall out. and then he grows extremely pointed fangs in their spot. when he tells coran this, coran explains that this is common in galra to lose their milk canines and grow adult fangs. lance compares it to wisdom teeth and keith gets annoyed
-on a similar note, the reason keith has a full set of teeth despite being a troglodyte child who beats people up when pissed off is because he just grows his teeth back once theyre knocked out. this didnt happen with his baby teeth but once his adult teeth grew in, he would just. Grow new teeth. this unsettles him deeply everytime he thinks about it because humans are born with both sets of teeth. how is he doing this .
-he can see in the dark
-he has prey animal hearing. his ears perk up when he hears sharp distant sounds
-obviously i think he growls when hes pissed and purrs when hes happy. Who do you take me for. i do think this is one of those things keith assumed was normal until he was older and someone he was fighting made fun of him for "growling like a dog". i think, pretty vitally, he does not sound like a human growling andor purring. i think he sounds like a cat. he also hisses but texas kogane trained him out of that as a kid. as an adult (post galra-heritage arc) he sometimes does it anyway. connecting with his inner child <3
-more generally i think his voice toes the razor's edge of sounding like a normal human's. i think it lowers to registers and heightens to heights that sound only just like a human could make that sound
-his ears have always been pointed enough to be noticeable (texas kogane had him trained to keep his hair relatively long so it would cover them) but they only get pointier the older he gets. they never stick out or anything but one day in their twenties allura sees them and is like hey! youre like a baby altean! and keith doesnt live this observation down for the entire rest of his life
-his stupid purple eyes are canon and go without saying. and the whole "go yellow and slitted when hes pissed" is also canon and goes without saying. im bringing this up because in home again's 'verse, by the time the events of the fic are happening the only people whos actually seen this happen are lance and shiro, because keith got a little upset at some enemy combatants on a mission with them once, and when they told him he was like. what the fuck are you talking about. fuck no. you imagined that. and they swear UP AND FUCKING DOWN that no, keith, your eyes literally turned yellow. they went slitted. we didnt imagine it that really happened--
behaviors
-he bites people. in all contexts. violent. affectionate. sexual. if left unsupervised he will bite hard enough to draw blood so if its a lovebite you have to slap him away. unless youre into that i guess. this is one of those things he didnt notice until adulthood and he sat there like. head in hands. why is me being galra so fucking obvious in hindsight
-whether or not keith's temper and violent tendencies are the result of a childhood of violent bullying and general social neglect or if theres a genetic factor is entirely conjecture and everyone has a different, private opinion on the subject (keith's opinion is that it doesnt really matter), but its generally agreed on that his ability to power through lifethreatening injuries on pure adrenaline is a Galra Thing
-climbs trees like a spider monkey. generally likes being in places that are both high up and enclosed . if left to his own devices will start climbing around on shit. in the castle this is generally fun because theres big empty rooms that are entirely unused. but they all collectively realize this goes beyond castle exploration once they get back to earth and find keith on top of the fridge at 3 am. im talking completely relaxed while shoved as far in the upper corner of the room as he can possibly get
-hoards random shit he finds sentimental and keeps them shoved in various corners of his room. like a dragon. after they get together (sorry for sudden klance bias) lance is constantly accidentally finding his shit scattered around their room shoved into little corners. this is a love language to keith. hes hiding their beloved belongings in safe places. lance finds it EXTREMELY annoying because its early and he needs his moisturizer, keith, if its wrapped in my jacket underneath the bed again im gonna explode
the eternal question
-pidge: have you ever considered talking to a psychologist about you having autism keith: no. the orderly at the orphanage was convinced i was. but i'm obviously just galra. pidge: [exasperated silence]
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ao3cassandraic · 7 months
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Angels, demons, language, and culture part 4: Literalism and metaphor
Part 1 (angels are never children, and that matters), Part 2 (written language is mostly coded human rather than ethereal/occult in Good Omens), Part 3 (human writings contain useful social rules, which is partly why Aziraphale values them)
It may be time to restate @thundercrackfic's original questions?
How good is Aziraphale’s reading comprehension? How much does he understand subtext and metaphor? Because his behavior this season struck me with the impression that he didn’t really understand the books he collects. He’s clever at puzzle solving, and contains vast knowledge; but he always seems to take things at face value (when he’s not willfully misunderstanding), and refuses to give up black-and-white thinking, which would make it very difficult to analyze texts.
I think there are definite reasons to believe that reading comprehension of human literature (as defined in the question) is difficult for Aziraphale. One of them, as stated in part 1, is that Aziraphale doesn't get the tremendous advantage of childhood and its brain plasticity, which (among other things) is known to help with learning language. I'm not surprised his French is pretty bad. Learning another language from the ground up as an adult can be a cast-iron PITA (yes, experience speaking).
Another is simply that Aziraphale is not human. He's an outsider to humanity. He's fairly empathetic, and he does learn (unlike almost all his fellow angels!), but that leaves him without much of a yardstick to gauge when human literature is being literal and when it's not. There also seems to be a general angelic tendency to believe what they're told? Muriel definitely has it, Michael seems to as well, and even s1!Gabriel can only (and barely) muster skepticism on one occasion that I recall (the photo incident). I can see this making Aziraphale's reading, especially early in his existence on Earth, a good bit harder for him than reading is for, say, me. I'm used to unreliable narrators and figurative language and other sorts of clever fun productive lying. Aziraphale's acquaintance with lying is -- well -- his lies don't usually involve much metaphor? I suppose one could argue that "big sharp cutty thing" is a kenning, but not really in the human way of kennings because he only uses it the once.
Moreover, it appears (based on the s1e3 cold open, mostly) that he bops around the world quite a bit until finally settling in London (with the occasional jaunt elsewhere when he gets peckish). Nothing at his creation other than the auto-polyglottism She bestows on Her angels seems to give him any tools for navigating the bewildering variety of human cultures and customs... and literary metaphor (along with lots of other literary things) is commonly culturally-bound, culturally-specific.
I mean, if you read something (maybe in high school (or analogue) or college) that was written A Long Time Ago and/or Very Far Away, didn't it probably have a ton of what lit-critters call "apparatus" in it? Explanatory introductions, bibliography, and above all footnotes/endnotes/margin notes, many of which explain figures of speech that otherwise wouldn't make sense? Not to mention stuff like (just as an example) which local then-current political morass Dante threw this particular historical person in this particular circle of Hell for. Stuff that if you're not there, not embedded in the culture and the time, you're just plain gonna whiff. Hell, even Shakespeare editions have a ton of apparatus, and Shakespeare's in Early Modern English for pity's sake!
(Which is not to say that something has to be ancient or not-from-here to benefit from some apparatus. What is The Annotated Pratchett File if not apparatus for Discworld?)
So our peripatetic angel reading literature of whatever time he's actually in (which mostly won't have apparatus he can rely on for help) will often find himself not clued-in enough to a given human culture to completely understand its literary figures, metaphors included. And sure, that's going to lead to some misreadings and misunderstandings and overliteral takes! I can't read Dante's Inferno and understand everything in it! It takes Italianists years, if not decades, to do that!
And to make the problem even more difficult, literature feeds on itself, and on other arts as well. (Hi hi hello, comparative literature major, I totally studied various flows of literary and artistic influence in college and wouldn't trade that major for anything ever, it was the best major.) Think about all the time and effort GO meta-ists have spent of late teasing out callbacks and allusions and references in GO s2. That kind of work is also part of what Aziraphale has to do to understand fully what he reads... and it's a lot of work, even for a reader as voracious and possibly sleepless as our angel.
So yeah, in sum, I don't think Aziraphale has a perfect -- or even good -- track record on understanding what he reads. I adore him because he reads anyway! He never gives up on trying to understand! That's absolutely praiseworthy! (Crowley has something of an analogue to this in his love for human inventions. He doesn't understand how anything actually works, for the most part, but he loves it all the same.)
I think there's also an outstanding question about what Aziraphale gains from reading, a sense of social rules (Part 3) aside? Well, it's known that reading (especially fiction, especially fiction about characters who are Not Like The Reader) increases empathy. I don't know if Aziraphale reads specifically for that reason, but I'm absolutely willing to believe that fiction works on him that way, just as it does on us, even if he doesn't fully understand everything he reads. Did you fully understand everything you read as a child? Or even as an adult? I would never claim that of myself. Yet I certainly will claim that I picked up a lot of what I suppose I will call my character -- it runs deeper than personality -- and my general understanding of life (insofar as I have one) from reading.
If I had to answer why Aziraphale reads, though? I'd think back to my own childhood, as a bullied child with somewhat neglectful parents who held outsized expectations of me. Reading for me was peace, was escape, was enjoyment, was something to think about that wasn't my own unhappiness, was -- now and then, honestly not often enough -- seeing myself reflected in a book and feeling less alone. I hope and believe that human literature and music served similar purposes for our poor angel.
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fallow-hollow · 24 days
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this is a bit of an obscure ask but could you do some hcs for crushing on holm? i like to imagine he's surprisingly charming despite being so quiet and laid back... preferably with a reader who's the total opposite of him (loud, feisty, etc.)
spirit of pining
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…ft! holm kranom x gn! reader
…tags! pining, fluff, confession, pre-relationship, relationship study, banter
…word count! 1152
…notes! i’m glad i can feed the holm fans on this fine day. writing for side characters truly is the activity of all time
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Unless you’re somehow extremely subtle about your feelings, Holm probably knows or at least has an inkling.
Even though he finds you pretty interesting himself, he doesn’t make much of a move immediately. He tends to prefer taking it easy and not rushing things, so he’d instead just focus on spending time with you, letting things develop gradually and finding out more about you.
If you’re in the same party as him, you can expect a lot of light conversation and banter to fill the time while exploring the dungeon. Everyone else has sort of picked up on how you two always walk next to each other, and it’s pretty much become common practice during your explorations.
“You’d think after this long, they’d learn…..”
This probably shouldn’t have been funny to you, considering that up ahead, Kabru was struggling to yank his leg free from the grasp of a man-eating plant. Nonetheless, laughter caught in your throat as you approached the scene with Holm by your side. This situation didn’t give off much urgency at all, but you thought it was best not to dawdle.
“Quit it, that’s not nice!” Attempting to pout at him only resulted in an awkward expression between laughing and frowning, which only seemed to amuse him further. “Let’s go, before the poor guy is hanging upside down.”
Holm was even relaxed enough to maintain his half-lidded smile and loose grip on his staff through all of this. “I suppose you’re right… otherwise Kuro will get thorns up his nose again.”
Holm is generally a pretty lax guy, but he does his best to assist you whenever possible. This goes for all of his teammates, of course, but it’s more enjoyable to spend time with you, so he has a slight bias.
Sometimes he’s even able to push through his tendency to freeze up if you’re in desperate need of assistance during a fight, it’s pretty sweet.
If you don’t know as much magic as he does, he’ll be happy to teach you! (Fun fact, gnome-style magic is generally recommended for tallmen to learn as opposed to elf-style magic because of its lower mana cost!) He also may help you commune with spirits as well, such as his undine!
Speaking of Marillier, I think it would be pretty funny if she took a liking to you because her guardian does, too. Perhaps the spirit even picks up on his feelings.
Your cheek was now soaking wet from the glob of water that was almost nudging itself against your face, but you couldn't find it in you to be upset, finding the behavior rather cute. In fact, it roused curiosity in you more than anything.
After a few moments of searching, your gaze landed on the undine’s guardian, who was currently observing you with equal parts endearment and surprise.
“It seems like she likes you a lot.” The corners of his mouth perked up ever so slightly, a subtle change that clued you into his mood. “That’s pretty rare — she’s usually shy around others. Maybe it’s because I let you feed her before?”
A playful grin washed over your face. “Or maybe she’s taking after you! You know, because I’m your favorite and all!”
The gnome knew very well you were just teasing, so he merely responded with a chuckle and an utterance of “Sure, let’s go with that.”
What he didn’t tell you is that spirits do tend to be very intuitive, and pick up on the emotions of those around them… but he’d rather not dwell on that possibility at the moment.
A lot of time is also spent with you and thinking about you outside of dungeon work, too, which sets you apart from the rest of his traveling companions.
I imagine he even takes the time to write to his sister about you, only for her to write back that Kabru had long since informed her of your whole mutual pining deal. The man would be absolutely mortified about it.
If you’re not the type to take initiative, he’ll definitely confess eventually, but if you’re a more hold type, he’d likely let you tell him about your feelings at your own pace. He may find it cute to see you be so earnest, but he isn’t motivated purely by self interest — Holm is actually a pretty empathetic guy, and just really doesn’t want to rush you. After all, he hates having lots of pressure put on him, so he’d do his best not to do the same to you.
It was during a stargazing session that you’d told him.
He enjoyed these evening outings with you, and observing the sky was a common activity that you’d partake in together. Sometimes, he’d talk about the practical use of constellations, or even the air spirits that played a vital part in weather patterns, but often, mutual silence was just as fulfilling.
The intense stare you’d been giving him for the last few minutes was hard not to notice, if he was being honest, but you seemed not to know that he was already aware of your gaze, so he let it be. If you had something to say to him, you’d say it when you were ready.
“Can I ask you something?”
Ah, there it was. Holm took his sweet time turning his head to look at you. It’s not like you were going anywhere, after all. At least, if his desire to stay with you was reciprocated.
“Mhm, what is it?” The way you fidgeted with your clothes left him nothing short of charmed. Your eagerness truly was something to be admired… and admired, and admired some more.
Under the canopy of stars, there was little light to be found, making it a bit hard to see your face clearly. The movements of your lips were clear enough, though. “Well, I was just wondering if we could try going out again sometime… in more of a date-ish setting?”
The clumsy phrasing didn’t stop him from smiling warmly at your words. He wasn’t surprised or startled at all, but he had visibly softened.
“Of course, I thought you’d never ask.”
Your silhouetted form jolted sharply at his response. “You— you knew I would…?”
“Well, I had an inkling.” Far more than an inkling, really, but he didn’t want to embarrass you that much, as amusing as it was. To soften the blow, he added, “Or maybe it was just my wishful thinking. I feel the same, after all.”
“So it’s a yes?”
Even in darkness, those eyes of yours were as bright as the stars. How could he deny anything you said, really.
“Mhm,” he nodded in response. “Though, let’s keep this to ourselves, alright? Knowing the others, Mickbell probably started a betting pool on when we’d start dating. And he’ll probably throw a fit when Kabru ends up inevitably winning, so let’s delay that a while.”
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Here’s so Brian head canons because I have absolute brain rot right now. 
Warnings: NSFW, facial, somnophilia, fem!reader
Brian SFW Headcanons
There’s a lot I have to say about this man. 
For starters he’s like a perfect cutie. Like everyone thinks he’s at least a little cute. 
But I headcanon him as decently tall. Not like Ej or Lj tall but more like how he was in Marble Hornets. So probably like 6’0 to 6’2 depends on how bad he slouches.
He’s also like decently buff, not like raging muscles but enough that you can kinda see it and feel it on him
He most definitely gets a little southern accent when he’s angry
From first glance you would think with the way he jokes with Tim that he’s like an asshole type, but he is probably one of the most respectful proxies around. 
That’s not to say he isn’t mean, he just doesn't see the point in being needlessly mean when the situation doesn’t call for it.
I also think that he has just some autistic tendencies which is why he rarely talks to people. But most people around think he’s nice.
He is like the opposite to hoodie tbh
Also he’s very much aware of hoodie and tries to actively undo most bad impressions he gives people just because Brian finds it so exhausting to try and remember who Hoodie fucked with last.
If you were to end up being friends with him he’d probably do just about everything with you.
Not like how Toby would, more like the bff you automatically pick over everyone else.
He definitely would do just about anything with you no matter the time. Want him to dye your hair? He already bought dye. Want a new hair cut? He’s getting the clippers out.
Generally he’s just a odd guy who hangs out with too many smokers
NSFW
He definitely whimpers when he cums
He isn’t like Toby or Ben, but very much so occasionally whimpers when he is extremely worked up
he’s more of like a Service Dom, very much a giver rather an a receiver
He isn’t too big of a fan of quickies but isn’t completely against them
please tell this man how good his dick feels/how big he is because I’m telling you he will melt in seconds
speaking of dick—
this man isn’t massive but he definitely ain’t small
I would say he’s a nice 7.5 and decently girthy
Oh and did I mention he absolutely loves giving head?
Like this guy is a literal god at giving head
makes it his mission to please you in the best way possible
Hes a bit more experienced with girls but he does swing any way
He can be mean and dom hard if you really want it or if he’s irritated but immediately feels bad after the fact
He just lives to please you tbh
But that doesn’t mean he hates head, he just gets more out of pleasing you
But he sure does love the teary eyed whiny look on your face when you try to stuff all of him into your mouth
Oh and this man loves to watch your face, any position where he can watch you blissfully moan out in pleasure while he fucks you is the best for him
If he had to pick tho he would probably have to go with the classic missionary or cowgirl
Brian typically likes vanilla sex but does indulge into some more fun stuff
Like one of his guilty pleasures that he could never admit out loud is somnophilia
Like just something about either lazily fingering you while you sleep and feeling you get wetter just makes him rock hard in seconds
He also loves to get off with your underwear, you don’t even have to have worn it he just wants it
Like when you two first started dating and he happened to do your laundry once, he couldnt even look at your panties. The shame of his thoughts were too much for him
Oh and this man loves to breed you, and cum on your face
Just the feeling of him deep inside of you, unloading himself as deep as he can get while you whimper and clench on him has him rock hard in seconds
Or the sight of him just covering your face in it as you look up at him with your mouth open has him palming himself
ok That’s all this is too long now—
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fernlessbastard · 1 month
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Quackity's a workaholic.
He would spend nights working instead of sleeping, but eventually, when Las Nevadas was developed enough to mostly run itself, that it isn't just work. He could never truly sleep, never wanted to fall asleep, scared of his own mind when not focused on something, only sometimes pushing himself to rest through alcohol or pure exhaustion.
Wilbur on the other hand never had issues falling asleep. It came to him naturally, or maybe it was the constant exhaustion (especially after revival). He could never really sleep though. He would fall asleep, but not rest, half conscious most of the time, or experiencing terrible nightmares and waking up in the middle of the night.
Inspired by your recent art, Quackity would sometimes just stare at sleeping Wilbur. But, Wilbur would often stare at sleeping Quackity in the morning, admiring his lover when he's all soft and calm, and thinking of ways to surprise him with something nice when he wakes up. Maybe he should make him breakfast.
Ok so I love this cause I absolutely adore the "opposites attract" HCs with Q but it'd always be like "well they both definitely have sleep issues" but this is a way to have both and like that's a major slay
Three little hcs regarding their sleeping habits: 1. they both have a tendency to wake up when the other does, just automatically - they're just synchronised (most of the time at least one of them falls right back asleep tho); 2. Wilbur's weak sleep is significantly worse when Quackity's still working - like, he will finally come to bed and Wil's asleep but then Q sits down on the bed (quietly as fuck) and Wilbur's like "hey"; 3. they switch around their sleeping positions, but Wilbur absolutely loves being the small spoon - partly cause he's always cold, but mainly cause he wasn't held enough as a kid/hj
Aaaand in the spirit of the ask, a little headcanon that's tied up with this (plus more at the end):
Common one, but I'll elaborate - Quackity's warm, Wilbur's cold. So, of course Wilbur's cold after revival cause his body's kinda fucked up and all that. Quackity - for a normal human (or a normal animal hybrid I guess idk works with duck too) consistently has a pretty high body temperature. He prefers sleeping mostly undressed (maybe with shorts on but that's not a guarantee/lh), he usually has to unbutton his shirt a bit lower than standard (I mean he's also a whore but it's a 2 in 1 y'know), etc etc.
Now, with Schlatt that resulted in limited cuddling even in the honeymoon phase cause the other also had a higher body temperature, and they'd just end up sweaty and uncomfortable.
With Eret the relationship started with a generic, platonic, positive message ("you matter ♡ -Eret" which they gave out to people in general just as a nice gesture, but nothing romantic) and ended with Q alone at the altar, so it's probably safe to say that didn't really come up.
With Karl and Sapnap though his body temperature was both too much, and not enough - Sapnap, as a demon hybrid, was much warmer, so with him cuddling wasn't really the most comfortable long-term, and while Karl was slightly on the colder side, Quackity wasn't as warm as Sapnap, so Karl would mostly cling to the latter. They'd try to make it all "even", but the emotional and physical distance was still noticeable.
And then there's Wilbur.
In pogtopia they didn't really cuddle much, but whenever they touched shoulders or leaned against each other Quackity noticed that Wilbur would frequently lean in for just a second longer than normal. This came back 10x stronger after revival. With a lot of Wilbur's nerves and blood vessels fucked up, he's pretty cold most of the time. The first time they cuddle he absolutely sinks into the embrace, making a comment about how nicely warm the other is. Quackity doesn't expect it to hit him as hard as it does. He giggles, slightly flustered, and dismisses it as Wilbur just being colder. From then on it repeats, and soon enough Quackity returns the favour by unintentionally hitting Wilbur with something along the lines of "you're like, the perfect temperature". See, Wilbur's always been on the colder side. He'd hear comments about how cold his hands were - not to even mention post revival - and he never really thought much of it, until Quackity's comment just hit him like a ton of bricks, and he just felt so perfectly in place in Q's arms. They just form the perfect temperature equilibrium; not too warm, not too cold - just perfect.
Little bonus: Quackity starts occasionally taking a jacket or sth with him even though he doesn't need it but he knows Wilbur will probably get cold (and need a second jacket).
Another little bonus that connects this HC to a different one about Quackity having sensory issues. VERY tldr is that sometimes he just gets this intense physical discomfort in his limbs (AuADHD moment), and only way to lessen it is intense stretching, OOOORR using Wilbur as his personal ice bag. There'll be nights where Wilbur will try to move his foot cause "it's probably too cold and bothering Q" just for Quackity to "scold" him for moving it cause it was pressing perfectly into his calf and keeping him from losing his mind cause of sensory issues.
Also they both have food sensitivities, but Q's are more broad, and sometimes they'll spend hours arguing(/lovingly) over what to get on pizza, or when they go to a new food place sometimes Wilbur will just look at Quackity who's staring at the idk olives he accidentally ordered in his food (cause he didn't know the dish contained them) and he will just silently slide over his plate so that his boyfriend can peacefully pick all of them out and give them to Wilbur. When Wilbur encounters food sensitivities - say, in a restaurant - Quackity will go full Karen mode and make sure his boyfriend gets only the food he wants.
Continuing the topic of mental health, sometimes Wilbur will struggle with hygiene during depressive episodes, to which Quackity will either motivate him with showering together(/nsx), a shared bath, if he's doing worse, or in the worst case scenario he'll help him clean himself up with a damp cloth (no judgement, no comments even, just love and support)
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animasola86 · 7 months
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Sebastian Sallow Headcanons (revisited)
I made a similar post a while back, but I think it's time to revisit it.
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Sebastian Sallow is a Scorpio (born between Oct 23 and Nov 22).
Typical Scorpio traits include being resourceful, ambitious, brave, (com)passionate, possessive, jealous, loyal, supportive, emotional, intense. I’d say he is all that. Also fits the Slytherin characteristics.
I don't have a particular date in mind for him anymore, but I'd say around Halloween or after would suit him and Anne. (I haven't looked at the actual Astrology aspect of it, leaving that to the experts here!)
He is a nerd and an athlete.
He is the kind of nerd who will hit you with knowledge when you least expect it and never as the know-it-all type, but rather the let-me-share-my-knowledge type. I'm sure he'll be actually fun at parties.
And I see no problem in him being hunched over books for hours on end and being physically fit at the same time. (Yes, he seemed a little unfit at the start of fifth year, being all breathless on the way to Hogsmeade and during a mission up some stairs, but I'll ignore that. He'll grow into it.)
So he's not only fit enough to brave all those stairs in Hogwarts, I also see him on the Quidditch team. I initially had him as a Beater in my head, and I still stand by it, but I do see him as a Seeker as well now, just because how he can show off by catching the Snitch.
(I don't see him as a Chaser, too average a position for him imo, or a Keeper, I think he'd be too hyper to stay in one place all the time, even though his protective trait might play into it, but he can focus on that more when he hits some Bludgers around.)
He is tall.
I also HC that Ominis is taller, but Sebastian is still tall. I put him at 1.80m/180cm (5′11″) initially, but I might even put him taller now. He'll definitely have another growth spurt during his last years at Hogwarts and grow into an even taller adult, so for now, let's settle on him being 1.85m/185cm/6'1" at the end of the game. (Angst can make you grow, yes.)
(And I need him to be tall because my MCs usually are quite short and I just love that size difference dynamic so much!)
He is an extrovert.
He might have his baggage to carry during his fifth year (and beyond), but he still has many extrovert tendencies, especially needing people around to recharge - even if it's just one person (our MC preferably). He is a twin, so being alone was never really an option before Anne got sick.
That's why he hates being alone, he'll certainly have his mind flooded with doubts and dark thoughts if he happens to be alone. That might make him clingy and/or overprotective towards his significant other/friends, but if it helps him sleep at night, he won't hesitate to hog those special people to his advantage.
He is a light sleeper.
And probably has nightmares more than your average boy considering all the stress he puts himself under, with his worries for Anne and the constant abuse from Solomon and his general past (loss of his parents, etc.).
Yet even though he might have trouble falling asleep and sleeping in general, I do think he can sleep anywhere, thinking about the shed in Feldcroft that the fandom considers to be his place to stay when he visits his sister. Also as a twin he was probably used to sharing small spaces and finding sleep wherever he can.
He can't sit still for long.
Call it ADHD, restless legs syndrome or general nerves, he probably can't sit still and has to fidget a lot as well. Might conflict with his ability to absorb himself in books for hours on end, but even when reading, I'd imagine him moving a lot (think back to him pacing in front of the fireplace in the Slytherin common room, or his constant walking cycle through the DADA tower, etc.).
His favorite color is green.
Obvious choice, I just needed something to end this with. So here we go. Green for Slytherin, for nature, and maybe, probably hope? Who knows.
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[ 🔞 NSFW Sebastian Sallow Headcanons ]
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cafecourage · 3 months
Text
Dragon au part 4 of 4 (finally)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Four:
- Another serpent boy. But he is a noodle with legs. Four’s scales are a pale yellow color but because of the Colors™️ you can see their respective colors reflected back in the light. Four’s dragon form has four sets of horns the second pair grew in later in life thanks to the four swords.
- Four comes from a family of Earth Dragons with metal ties. Meaning they are metal benders ATLA style. He can also infuse elemental powers into his weapons through the uses of gems. Everything he owns has been updated for him as he went through. Anything he wants to test or experiment he tries on his own weapons and. Equipment. Though I am sure Wild would lend him a few things. Four can also shrink on command and split.
- His scent gland is on his forehead, and honestly his scent is basically a berry medley with a bit smoke. He doesn't tend to rub his scent on things as he doesnt care about claiming much. His family has a lot in their horde already, he also isn’t the type to claim family.
- Unfortunately he does have cat tendencies despite his fear of them. But even then that isn’t something he has clued in on and I don’t recommend pointing it out as he would get pouty.
You honestly didn’t know that Dragons can purr. To be fair only the only ‘purring’ you have heard was Twilight but his was more of a low growl. Four has been cuddling into your side purring. He was a bit sick and being the other medic of the team. He has been rubbing his face on your shoulder for a while now. A fruity aroma was getting stronger and stronger.
You put your hand on his forehead. Still warm… well you don't have the heart to move either. Not when he is suffering this much.
- It honestly doesn’t even process that Four claimed you by accident. He probably just thinks it was temporary since he was sick and is kinda in denial about it all. Claiming isn’t something he was going to do for a while even though he is a slightly hopeless romantic. It’s not the end of the world.
- He honestly is pretty up front about what he did and his feelings. He understands if you don’t want to date him but Four wont let you down. This man is polite and respectful and will spoil you. What more do you need?
- I also feel like he wouldn’t be that subjected to his dragon instincts. He has been around enough treasure and making enchanted weapons enough not to get gold fever. So top tier in terms of semi normal.
Fierce Diety:
- A god in his own right Feirce Diety is of course the strongest dragon in the group. He is built similar to Time, bulky and strong. Similar to Time, FD’s Scales are marbled but instead of just the gray and black tones you find in white marble there is also red, blue and gold. Though on his face you still have his signature markings.
- Fierce Deities powers are weird. He has the ability to affect gravity in the sense that he can make his sword slash go down harder, he can make himself move faster and he can jump higher. He can also make himself stronger in general and change how he looks. Given that so many people wore his mask he can shift into them borrowing their image. Sort of. There are differences between what fierce looks like and whoever he is stealing from looks like.
- I actually don’t know what god would smell like. But I do know he probably has a scent gland on his sides. Making it so when he is protecting you his scent gets all on you as your tucked into him safe and sound. By the end of it would probably smell like dried herbs, sage is probably the highest note there is. But it’s warm and old and comforting to you. Maybe not to others.
The War God doesn’t understand how he was in this situation. Not that he was complaining. It just was so long since he was outside of that prison of a mask that he wasn’t used to so much physical touch. With one of the children cuddled into one of his sides, then the other side was you. The person he went into battle to save. You unfortunately were hurt but not too much. Fierce Deity sighs as he relaxes not really knowing if he should move or not.
But as your arms around him tightened gave his answer. Fierce Deity was trapped here. There was no moving here.
- Fierce deity is another person that honestly will tell you outright and might give you no choice. You are his that (might) be final. I say that only because FD is a god. I would imagine even with him being in the seal he would have the largest horde as it includes people. So if you’re not also courting him, you’re still in his horde and will be in his protection. But uh… I wouldn’t suggest saying no to courting.
- Either way he is more subtle but also the most extreme with his dragon instincts. Like out of all the boys in the chain FD will be the most traditional in his belief. He will not mark you out right but he will be pushy unfortunately.
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dawndelion-winery · 2 years
Text
Faithfully Yours
What sort of companion droid are they?
Android au! Ft. Childe, Diluc, Kaeya, Scaramouche, Aether
Warning: mildly possessive behaviour
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Childe:
As one of the higher end models, he falls in both the domestic and guard lines
He makes himself very handy around the house and one of his favourite pastimes is seeing you savour his cooking
You'd tell him not to watch you but he looked like such a kicked puppy when you did, so you figured it wouldn't hurt to let him be
He's almost painfully clingy though
Since there's not much need for him as a guard, he takes it upon himself to fill the role of spouse
And seeks you out every few minutes because he just has to have your attention
Washing the dishes? He's bringing you a small stack of dishes every now and then to check if they meet your standards
He also fully expects to be praised or he'll assume he hasn't done well enough
Sometimes you can't even get him to charge unless you're in the same room as him because he complains he gets lonely
He also prefers when you call him Ajax as opposed to Tartaglia or Childe
"Psssst, psst, user<3, psssst."
"Yes, Ajax?"
"Heheh, I love you."
He works well with most other androids, though he will have a tendency to hog you a little bit
But he's very generous with you attention! Or so he says
You're free to sit in any other android's lap as long as he's the one you're looking at etc
Diluc:
Similar to Childe, he's classified as both a domestic and guard model
He's just not quite as openly affectionate despite also being very spouse like
Which means he functions best as a companion droid when he's the only one you have
Diluc, in essence, is a traditional lover android, which means he's happy to protect you and provide for you, at the small cost of him being the object of your affection
Kisses? He wants them all. Hugs? Entirely his
He's alright with being away from you, but that doesn't mean he isn't always thinking of you
In his opinion, there's nothing more enjoyable than cuddling you with a bottle of grape juice
Very much an android of service, you name it, he'll do it
If you do want other androids, he won't stop you, but he will get a little bit sulky
You'll find him hovering around you a lot more but not hugging you unless you're alone
He hopes you'll remember that no matter how many androids you have, he'll always adore you the most
Kaeya:
He's from the informatics line
Designed to help his user obtain any bit of information they desire to the best of his ability, he's programmed to be alright with not seeing you for long periods of time
So you're not sure why he seems so reluctant to leave your side
It could be a glitch, but since they've all been discontinued, it'd be too much trouble to get him fixed over such a minor issue
He tells you that he's alright with other androids but at the same time, you'll find there's always some sort of tension
Not to worry, of course! He's just keeping tabs on all of them so they toe the line
After all, he can't have any of them trying to replace him
He most adores laying on top of you with his head on your chest whole you play with his hair
Comb it, braid it, pin all sorts of accessories in it, he'll love anything you do to him as long as you're not pushing him away
Isn't he pretty when you style his hair from him? He often offers to let you dress him, insisting he'd be prettier if you picked out his outfits to match yours too
"What's the matter, master? You're not too shy to put your hands on me are you? You should really remember that I'm entirely yours."
Scaramouche:
A failed prototype to the Raiden Shogun, he was meant to be a comfort android with slight guard capabilities
He ended up too sensitive, turning him bitter and cynical as a result, far from the ideal comfort droid
Yet there's something so pure and soft in the way he cradles your head against his chest when you weep
He gingerly wipes your tears away, and hands you a tissue when you sniffle
Certainly, he's every bit of an asshole under normal circumstances
But there's no mistaking the original code, he was absolutely made to make you feel better when you're down
He presses gentle kisses to your forehead, his lips surprisingly warm and soft for an android, a feature specialised and perfected for all androids in the comfort line
He's the android whose hand you hold during sad movies and the one you vent your frustrations to
Some asshole cut in line when you were getting your morning coffee? His speech processors run the fastest, quickly registering the situation you describe and taking your side of the arguement
You're free real estate for bullying at other times though
Aether:
He's a very special sort of android
Along with his twin sister, they were made to be the customisable option among all the androids with their distinct personalities
At least that's how it was supposed to be
Since you'd gotten the original copy, he had the preprogrammed personality Hoyoverse had curated for him, without any requested modifications
He was gentle, but steadfast, always listening sweetly to you while acting as a mediator should you have any other androids
The true comfort android - he's always there for you to listen to anything you have to say
Unlike Scara, who's just as vocal as you are about your emotions, Aether is more passive, only interjecting where you need him to
He'll cradle your face and tilt your head so you look him in the eyes as he tells you to calm down, reassuring you that everything will be alright
His patience for you is boundless, and he's sweet to you even when you're in a good mood, doing all he can to ensure that happiness lasts
"Leave it to me, my dear user. I'll take care of everything for you."
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Taglist[send an ask to be added/removed]: @myluvkeiji @pluvioseprince @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @loverofthe-stars @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @heizours @codename-hiraeth @andreiling01 @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @sarahyumiko2 @local-mr-frog @cxlrosii @paintingsofdragonspine @mayulli @magica-ren
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imayfeel · 5 months
Text
I'm in love with a dying man.
;; Morally Grey, Mortician, Yand! Husband. Tender, Prone to physical harm, Househusband/wife! Reader. Opposites dynamic. Mentions of bodily harm [Both variables], not intentional wounds [Reader]. Unethical thought process. Hinted insomniac reader. NSFW. Unprotected sex. Genitalia [Of Reader] unmentioned. Hinted dacriphilia. Hinted breeding kink.
He is a reasonable man, he thinks. Right and wrong, good and bad, pious and sinful; all are considered mere words of the English language to him— adjectives with no purpose but to describe actions. They hold little to no true significance towards what actions should be done, he thinks. He holds little consideration towards what the general population would consider something to be done, and in turn what is not to be done.
He is not so immersed in narcissist beliefs, in the thought process of 'what I say must be correct, for no one besides me holds any worth', he was not so much of a vain man to think so. In contrast, he did not like such people either. He merely did, and if what he did evoked reactions, pleasant or unpleasant (or perhaps none at all?), it simply weighed no burden on him. The clock will still tick, day will still submerge into night, night will bleed into day, and the seasons will go on.
Some may consider him to be a nihilist. Whilst the thought of it may be logical, he could not find himself agreeing; for one detail. He could not care of his actions, nor the consequences they may evoke (unless they were to affect him or present to him tiring obstacles), if it was not for his spouse. His spouse, who laid heavy in the backs of his minds— who's image he could not cast away whenever he were to do even the smallest thing.
It is something he finds could drive a man insane. The constant nagging thought that reverberates inside the depths of his mind, what would they do in this situation?—
But he is not a fool. Anyone in the town could call him many things, but a fool is not one of them. His spouse has the opposite nature of him, much different, much less brutal. With each daily experience, he may think of what they would have done in his place, and he imagines it easy. It flows into his mind especially well, the image of their all-too-eager tendency to jump to help anyone who seems to be in need. He is also aware that, with them being unlike him, he is also consequently unlike them. Despite what he feels— knows— what they would do, it is not in his nature to help.
He continues walking calmly along the stone pavement, thick cigar hanging from his lips, the rain pouring down harder— he stays within the confinements of his mind, paying no attention to the intruding splatters of cold rain seeping through his long black coat, down to his work suit. The droplets harshly fall off of his thick black hair, crashing almost dutifully against the ground. It is not until he passes by the small flower shop that he is brought to the real world, that he becomes conscious of his surroundings. It is late at night, though not late enough for the roads to be completely silent just yet, but even still it would be around the closing times for most stores. He lifts the cigar away from his mouth, blowing out the smoke into in the cold night air.
He thinks to his spouse, likely waiting for his return in their home, but he also looks back to the shop. He lets out a sigh, putting out the cigar as his hand grips the handle of the door and steps in, his dark eyes narrowing as they adjust to the blinding (and in his perspective, annoying,) white light of the store. The worker, an assumed part-timer, seemed to have been in the midst of preparing to shut the store soon, her head snapping up almost immediately upon the sound of the bell ringing. The sweeping of the broom stops, and she smiles, far too bright for him to stomach (a shocking revelation for him, considering the field of work he partakes in). She prepares to speak, her lips parting—
"Closed?" He asks, though his tone seems to have been more of an observation, but loud enough for her to have taken initiative of replying to. His voice is heavy and almost overbearing, with a gravelly brutality to it, but a man who rarely speaks (a man who has little words to speak) has no use for a soft voice or pleasing tone.
Caught off guard, but still smiling happily, she responds, "Not quite yet, fortunately enough. What are you looking for?" She has the typical politeness of a worker, but something about her evokes an unpleasant feeling within him. Her voice is too high pitched and bouncy. Her smile is much too harsh and wide, for what a smile should be.
His spouse is not like that, no. It would be even insulting to say so, to assume they had anything in common. His spouse had a quiet voice, the type to lull a person to sleep, the voice that was only ever soft and pleasant to hear. They could say anything with that voice of theirs, and he would, in a trance, nod along. Their smile was the same, never quite gone and always comforting, whether it be a full smile or the slightest upturn of their lips.
But, simply from looking at her, he can get a read on her character, even from this small interaction. He could almost laugh. It is interesting how a mortician can read a person despite working with the dead. She looks to be the sort of person who talks your ear off, he thinks. The type to tell you of the past 15 years of her life on the very first conversation. Why is she smiling? What is she so happy about? He could never understand, why do people find themselves happy when surrounded by weeds and greeneries? Stop smiling.
People say that when a person smiles, that is them at their loveliest. Only his spouse looks lovely when they smile. And it only made sense for his spouse to be happy around flowers and plants and trees, because only his spouse grew the prettiest and most pleasant ones.
Upon hearing her question, he pauses. What is he looking for? He.. wasn't sure. He saw flowers. He walked in. He thinks, and after a beat, he answers. ".. Anything. Flowers. A plant. Something you can keep growing in a garden." His words are short and kept that way, forever straight to the point.
The worker nods understandingly, "Not a bouquet or something to put in water, I take?" She tries to confirm, to which he gives a nod of his head. The nod sends a few more droplets of water to fall onto the tiles of the ground, she notices this, laughing a little, "My, you're soaked. Such harsh rain is not to be taken so lightly." She speaks, with a friendly and joking tone, one which he has no patience for. He merely nods once more, ".. Indeed."
She takes him through the store, pointing out a variety of things, to which he merely nods or gives a word of understanding. He is barely listening to her, merely following behind her a few steps away, his eyes wandering from item to item. His eyes settle on multiple clear boxes in the wall, each with a different mix of what he can only understand are herbs or flower petals. He stops, and the woman hears the steps stop too, prompting her to turn around. As she turns and notices where he's looking, she smiles, "Types of herbal tea. They have different uses, it's amazing how many uses plants and flowers can actually have! You just boil some water, put some of the mix in, stir, and .."
He drowns out her voice, lost in thought as he analyses the clear boxes and their contents. Different uses? He wonders. As the woman keeps on rambling, he cuts her off, "What uses do they have?" He asks. She flinches a little as he speaks up and stops her speaking, looking apologetic and flushing a little from embarrassment as she realises she had spoken a bit much, ".. Many. Some are for cholesterol, some for reducing stress, treating nausea, helping you to sleep, have antioxidants.. " She lists with a little shrug.
His ears catch on when she mentions them being able to improve sleep, "The one meant for sleep." He states, his eyes flicker to her. She perks up at realising that he was interested in buying. "Then, I'll get you a pack," she says, "we keep the packaged versions behind the counter."
She turns back around and walks across the store to return to the counter, prompting him to follow and stand in front of the counter as he waits. As she rummages around, he lifts his wrist slightly to check his watch, carefully keeping track of his time. They should be getting ready for bed now, he thinks. He would like to see them before they did, though, he did not like to worry his spouse. As he stares at the ticking hands on the watch, he's brought back to reality as the woman places the small bag of herbs on the counter and notices, "You have very rough and scarred hands," she notes, before realising what she had said, "ah— um, pardon me, not that it is a bad thing. I tend to speak without thinking." She explains, in an attempt of apologising.
Nothing like his spouse, he thinks. Though, he wonders, although after a long moment of silence, ".. Do you think my hands are injured?" He asks, his voice flat. She blinks. "Well.. I suppose, yes." She says, a little timid.
He smiles, "You should see my spouse."
The smile is gone as fast as it came, not that it was much of a smile to begin with. Not comforting or kind, as a smile commonly is, nor did it bring any warmth to his features. If you had blinked the moment his lips turned upwards, when you had opened your eyes, it would be as if he did not smile in the first place.
It was not that she was wrong. His hands were large, with thin scars littered across both the palm and top of his hands. Some lighter than others, some darker, some deeper, some mere surface level scratches. The skin of his palms were rough, strangely so.
She blinks again. Then again. Then again. But by the time she gathers her thoughts, he had already moved on from that, asking for the price. In return, she had also quickly, subconsciously, switched topics along with him. "This is the medium sized bag, so it would only be XX, though we have been trying to enforce a small sale on certain things, so it would reduce to.. XX?" She offers, to which he merely reaches into his pocket to retrieve his black, leather wallet. This reminds of something, "Ah, did you not want something that could be planted as well? If you're still interested, there are a few sprouts that could easily be placed in new soil within a pot or garden to be grown much, much larger!"
Her offer makes him pause. It seems ideal. He speaks, ".. Get me it." To which she nods and soon has both of the items packed in a small and brown paper bag. Ignoring her call as he walks out of the store to return sometime and have a good day, he's out once more. The rain has not stopped its downpour, only continuing in their dispense. He barely takes any notice of it. He needs to get home, he thinks. It is late, a little later than he would prefer. Later than he would like to be home.
The paper bag is practically soaked through, too, as he finally reaches closer to his destination. The town was a quiet and dreary place, often dark and dull, with wuthering winds and all too often storms. But they brought him in more work, so perhaps he should have been more grateful towards the disastrous weathers. Him and his spouse had moved here during a time which felt like many decades ago, but truly was only a few years, when they were new to marriage.
The corners he turns are becoming more and more familiar as he grows closer. He nears with each step. He then eventually is stood outside of the door, clicking the key into the socket of the small home as he creaks the door open, silent and swift. He stares inside, stepping in after a beat.
His spouse is there. With their back turned towards him, their focus on the oven in front of them, as they appear to be baking something. The atmosphere is warm and pleasantly quiet, a stark contrast to the outside world, with its pouring rain and dull, grey sky. There is a soft lamp lit, along with a couple of candles, illuminating the space with a comforting warm look. His spouse hums to themselves as they continue on, not noticing his presence just yet. He does not rush to let himself be known. He waits, taking his time to watch from afar.
He watches, even as his spouse lightly hums to themselves as they continue on, the plain white apron they were wearing curving around their figure softly, tightening even more so from every little action. He watches, leaning against the doorway, as his spouse seems to have accidentally made contact with the searing hot metal within the oven with their bare hand. He watches as they flinch and let out a soft gasp, dropping the utensil they were holding. He watches, as they turn and bend over to pick it back up, before flinching once more when they notice him out of their peripheral view. He watches, and his throat goes dry, as their surprised expression softens into a gentle smile.
They speak his name in greeting, quiet and polite, but never has his name ever held so much weight before. His dark eyes flicker down towards his spouse's hands, going over each small scratch and bruise and minor cut, all adorned with bandages and plasters of their fitting. The burn was a new one, pink and tender and likely painful, but even so, his spouse smiles at their husband. He sees their eyes soften as they look over his soaked appearance, taking small light steps towards him before taking the coat off of him and hanging it up. They turn back to him, with a small and gentle, but he could tell worried, smile.
His spouse smiles so much, so, to most, it may seem like the same smile being used over and over again, repeated throughout their life. But he knows much better. He knows that their smile links to the look in their eyes, the slight tremble of their eyebrows, the smallest twitch of their fingers, he easily reads their emotions despite their attempts of a mere comforting smile.
They turn back towards him, one of their hands reaching upwards towards a lock of his curly and black (also, dripping) hair. "You're soaked. Did you not take an umbrella? You could have caught a cold." They speak. If it was someone else to have said this, they may have come off as nagging. If it was someone else who was to try touch him, he may have abruptly pulled away in disgust from being in contact with another living creature. He hated mankind, hated its ugliness, hated how bothersome it was. To live in solitude is a life lived correctly, away from the two-faced and haughty civilians.
But he had never, not once, included his spouse within that large group of people (as in everyone else). Not even when they were younger, before they had gotten married, he had never once had the thought of them being a nuisance. It was a strange revelation to find himself enjoying the company of another instead of finding them to be a liability. He had never been the social type, never been the type to attract people— more-so the type to chase them away. But he had never, despite his lack of expression, his lack of sympathy or basic human emotion, they had never taken any of it as reason to leave. Though, if they did, he would have little to no reason to blame them for it.
As their hand had reached up, their fingers curling around a lock of his dark and wet hair, his hand reaches up also. His thick fingers trail across the top of their much smoother hand, the tips of them barely touching the skin and running over the edge of another plaster as he hooks his thumb in the crevice of their palm. He uses the light grip to bring their hand further towards him, letting him press a little kiss on the small burn. He merely replies, "Warm me, then."
They laugh at that. A quiet and humble thing, not at all like the squeaky and ear-bleed inducing laughter from the insignificant woman earlier. He merely watches, his fingers still around their hand. Their eyes drift towards the brown paper bag, now close to ripping due to the intense rain. He notices their shift of attention, lifting it towards them and pressing it lightly against their chest and their hands lift upwards to take hold of it by its sides. He does not speak, merely beginning to step forward, his hand still lightly around theirs— to avoid pressing down on any injuries or the burn— as he leads them along towards the sink.
They let him lead them, curiously peaking into the bag with one hand. Their eyes catch onto the "Helps with: relaxation, fatigue, restful sleep! 100% tested and proven!" tag, written in small, bold letters in the corner of the packaging. They don't speak of it or mention it, merely smiling quietly at the thought of the action. They notice the small plant as well, eyes shining. They notice the cold water spilling onto their fingers from the tap, their husband holding up their burn to the water. He's quiet, having realised that they had looked at the items, and it embarrassed him in a way.
Their smile grows as they notice his stiff shoulders, his back towards them and his eyes forward. The two of them stand still for a long and quiet moment, only the sound of the water running is heard in the silence. After a minute, they lean forward and press a small kiss to his jaw before leaning back again, their head now leaning against his broad shoulder. He does not react, his eyes focused on the water.
The water hits the tips of his fingers whilst he holds their hand up to it. He remembers the feeling of water on the day that he had proposed to them, too— though, it was less of a proposal, and more of a statement. They had still been practically children when they had wed; with him at 19, and his spouse at 18.
It had been a strange scene. In the woods, far away from either of their homes. Although, he, an orphan, did not consider himself to have a home. He remembers them, his memory exact, to have been sitting up against the thick brown oak of a tree, knees up for the flowers to lean against them. He remembers their fingers gently, yet skillfully, twisting the stems of them together into little knots and conjoining them ever so carefully.
He remembers standing in the midst of the small and cold stream, the water up to his calves and his shoes held together in one hand, hanging from his side. He stared for a long amount of time, the noise around them so silent, the noise in his mind so silent. There was little to nothing going on within his brain, feeling almost dereslized and apart from the real world inside this moment. He was not a man to speak without thinking, and neither was his spouse, but his mind failed him. The words had left his lips before he had the chance to process—
"Let's get married."
Even after he had spoken the words, his mind was still in turmoil. He had not the chance to react before his, soon-to-be (at the time), spouse had turned their head towards him with their soft smile and given him a tiny nod of agreement.
He had been dumbfounded. Not once before in his life had he ever felt so lost in his thoughts and emotion, as it typically was the case of the lack thereof, but this time, it was the opposite. The emotion was much too strong and complex. He had not spoken a word after that, and neither did they. He had laid awake in bed that night, his mind full of different thoughts, yet at the same time, nothing at all— I am going to marry them.
It was a small marriage, but not unexpected of two children either. He had no family nor friends to invite, and, despite being well loved within the town, neither did his spouse. The marriage had been the talk of the town for weeks, and probably had continued to have gone on even after the two of them had moved to this town. Someone who had little to no involvement, who was avoided and barely even known, marrying someone who was every elderly person's favourite, who did not complain or grow annoyed no matter how many tasks the locals bashfully asked for them to complete?— "What a shame for such a bright child! A miracle if it were to last above a year!"
It was not like they were wrong, either. He was aware of how golden they were, of how the children rushed to play with them, of how people greeted them with "Good morning!" or "Good afternoon!" at each turn. Though, what use did it have, when at the end of the day, when both of them had snuck out to meet one another, it was him who's shoulder they had put their head on and quietly spoke of how lonely things were, even in the loud town.
The town was small, but a place which involved themself into the business of all others. A place which he disliked since childhood, and neither of them had much to miss there. He was glad they had moved, this town was much more quiet, much less chatty and arrogant. Though, even here, his spouse was loved dearly by the neighbourhood children, would politely converse with their neighbours, would be seen as a regular at the small bookstores and gardening shops. It was amusing, even, seeing townsfolk try to hide their stares as they ask themselves, "That man is their husband?", seeing the local children ask his spouse if they really were married, and who to, then shrinking away at meeting his eyes.
Still, here, they lived quietly, in a small home where he was sure they were free to enjoy whatever pass times and hobbies they enjoyed. Where he did not have to worry too much for them, knowing that they would be there when he returned home each day.
He's brought back to reality as he notices the raw pink flush of the tender skin gradually going down, switching off the tap and opening a cabinet to reach for bandages. He places one hand on their hips, bringing them in front of him so that their back is pressed against his front. He wraps the bandage around the burn before cutting it off with scissors. His eyes flicker down towards the flesh that connects their neck and shoulders, unable to hide the constant underlying emotion of desire that he represses within him whenever he merely glanced or thought of them.
He leans his head down and presses a kiss there. Then another. Then another. And then he is pressing multiple kisses to their neck.
He was not a man who necessarily had much need for hedonistic activities such as sex. But it changed dramatically whenever it came to his spouse. Especially as he hears the soft sigh drawn from their lips at the sensations, as they melt into him and he feels more of their weight leaning back on him. It isn't long before his tongue starts tracing over the flesh, his teeth digging in ever so slightly, his hands travelling. And by the way they were reacting, their long lashes fluttering slightly, eyes shut as their head leant back, he took it as yes.
It was not long before he had his large arms hooked beneath their knees, hands resting on the pillow on either side of their head, his cock buried deep inside of them. Their knees are folded towards their chest in a mating press, their nails dug deep into his broad back, scratching almost violently as he fucks them brutally—
They married a brutal man, after all.
Perfect like this, he thinks. The only time he can see them unravel, the only time he thinks they could bring themselves to every physically harm someone, as he feels the burning of the scratches on his back. It was amusing, even, to see them fret the night after over the almost animalistic marks.
As if they did not notice their own body was covered in bites and marks. He drags his lips over their neck, his teeth sinking in as he leaves a love bite, making them flinch. "Nnh.. W— Wait—" They protest, although in vain. His tongue runs down and over their collarbone, down to their chest. His tongue flicks one of their nipples before grazing it with his teeth, making them shiver and let out a whine. All the while, his hips meet theirs repeatedly, his thick cock pounding into their warm and soft insides.
It's maddening, just how soft and warm it all is in this moment. Their bare flesh pressed against him, their tears of ecstacy, their nails dug into his flesh. He presses his lips to their cheek, kissing the tears as his tongue swipes against their hot and wet cheeks. They look so perfect, he thinks, crying for him. The only way he prefers them crying, with their mind foggy from pleasure.
And soon, he can feel his own climax rising too. He mutters, "Seem to be getting along with those neighbourhood kids so well, makes me want to give you one of your own." He can't even tell how much of it is teasing and how much of it is him speaking from what he subconsciously wants. With one last thrust, his thick and hot cum had filled them up, before he had pulled out to watch the scene before him.
Perfect, he thinks again. Their legs shaky, their half-lidded eyes glossy with tears, their chest and neck littered with all sorts of bloody bites and hickeys, his cum dripping from their pretty hole. The sight was enough to tempt him into a second round, and a third, and a fourth. He had all the libido in the world when it came to his spouse to fuck; all night if they had merely said the word, and once they did, he would be unable to stop. A brutal man he is, but also one which when left unrestrained, would not be restrained.
He was a tall man, at 6 foot 3, paired with a strong and broad physique and long lasting stamina. His back, torso, arms, all littered in scars, just like his hands as he had been previously reminded of. He was, by both nature and appearance, brooding and stoic, whilst his spouse was softer hearted. Though, despite the possibility of being able to continue on, he takes notice of the drowsy and tired out look of his beloved. His spouse was much less used to physical excursion as he was, but even so, he could not help but thrust two of his thick fingers inside of them, shoving the dripping cum back inside.
His lips whisper gruffly, his hot breath fanning over the shell of their ear, "If you can get so sleepy from me fucking you, would this not be more ideal to do every night rather than using tea or medication?"
Even so, they can't help but let out a soft sleepy protest, mind all fluffy and drifting off. He holds them close, tucking an arm beneath their back and placing another on their waist to turn them onto their side in order to hold them to his chest. He lets out a sigh as he feels them drift to sleep, and he enjoys this. He enjoys the nights they spend together, albeit that being every night. Each night, despite what had gone on during the day, they had found themselves entangled together in bed either way.
He had not felt complex emotion in many years.
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