#instant relief so intense i teared up

[flametrashiraarchive]

Solace

I finished my Reader x Rengoku fic! it’s also on Ao3, but here it is if you prefer to read it here!

(Rengoku x AFAB reader, canon divergent- Akaza doesn’t show up at the end of Mugen Train and Rengoku returns home to you. Mainly smut and fluff.)

Minors DNI

Kyojuro is never quiet when coming home from missions.

In combat, the man moves with stealth and graceful speed which could put even the sneakiest alley cat to shame. But returning in the dim light before dawn, excited and elated simply to be back with you, he bounds toward you with a broad, effusive grin.

“I’m back!” he declares, as though his footsteps didn’t just shake you from the bed.

But you can’t find it within yourself to be annoyed at him for waking you. Ever.

It doesn’t matter that it’s hours before you’re due to rise, or that he and his crow probably woke the whole village on their return. Before you know it, your smile is mirroring his, and you’re crushed to him, not knowing who closed the space between you first. You breathe in the scent of battle and dwindling smoke, and the familiar comforting warmth of him.

Your fingers press to his back, sliding up towards his shoulders, your heart squeezing with the relief that he’s home. He won the battle. He survived.

Strong, sturdy, and real beneath your hands. And yours, entirely.

You could cry; the lump in your throat dangerously close to choking you, but tears would only make him worry. So you press your face to his chest, letting him hold you, rocking you from side to side as he rests his cheek on the top of your head.

You breathe in his scent again and let out a sigh. "Do you want to go and tell Senjuro and your father you're back? Senjuro was so worried."

"In a little while," he says, tightening his hold on you. "My father usually wakes after sunrise."

You can't help but smile. He’s all yours, at least for a while.

“How was it?” you ask, muffled in his embrace.

“Hm?”

You pull your face away to let your voice carry to him fully. “How was the mission? The demon on the train?”

“Ah. Good.” He smiles, raising a battle-hardened hand to gently stroke your cheek. The intensity in his fiery gaze softens as he acclimates to the safety of your shared home. “We prevailed. But it took far too long.”

“Agreed. You were gone for more than two months.” You lean into his touch. And, knowing thanks to his hashira stamina, it’s likely untrue, you add, “You must be exhausted. We could go back to bed for a while?”

He chuckles softly, catching the meaning behind your seemingly innocent words. “I should clean up first. I’m sure I smell less than—”

His sentence dies against your lips as you pull him to you, unable to delay what you’ve been craving for months. And after a muffled chuckle of surprise, he reciprocates the kiss.

Kyojuro kisses like he fights; with every damn fiber of his being, burning you up as he drives you backward, pressing you to the wooden frame of the door and pinning you to it with his body. At once, you’re lost to the world, and all that matters is his lips, his fingers tangled in your hair, and his muscled thigh pressing between yours. Your body reacts to him so quickly you become lightheaded; heat pooling everywhere he touches.

Yours. He’s yours. And he’s home.

A sigh escapes you as he takes your hand in his, and pins your wrist to the door frame above your head.

You could list a thousand reasons you love this man, and one of them is the way he can snap in an instant from dazzling light and exuberant warmth, to an altogether more blistering, primal sort of flame. And you have always reveled in that blaze.

You slide down a couple of inches, pressing your core to the sturdy length of his thigh as you tug his lower lip between your teeth. A quiet groan escapes him, those gold and crimson eyes of his half-lidded as he drops his hand to the opening of your robe.

Kyojuro can– and has– spent all night undressing you and letting your excitement build before granting you release after release. And every time you’ve basked in that drawn out pleasure, trusting him entirely as you do, that the delay will be more than worth the reward. But not tonight. Not after two lonely months of nothing but your hands on your cunt, and gasping his name into the pillow.

“Kyojuro,” you whisper, parting the robe yourself until your breasts are exposed. “Please.”

“You’re so eager this morning,” he says, keeping his breath and voice so level you’d almost think your exposed skin wasn’t affecting him.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” His lips part as he cups your breast, stroking a calloused thumb over your nipple. “If I’m honest, I spent a lot of time thinking about you. About this.”

Pride and pleasure blossom in your chest and snatch your breath, earning you a chuckle. He drops his hand lower, dipping it between the pillowy softness of your thighs.

Where it stays.

Firmly.

“Patience, Little Flame,” he tells you as he takes his thigh from between yours, leaving your pussy aching and wanting. “Let me clean up. I want to be the best I can be for you.”

God, this man. Even after being denied you by duty, he still relishes every second with you, drawing it out and savoring it. You may as well weigh less than a feather as he scoops you into his arms, putting his strength and training to use as he whisks you away to the wisteria-guarded private hot spring at the back of your house; another perk of living with a hashira.

He sets you on the wooden boards at the side of the steaming water, stepping away to leave nothing but the cool morning air to caress your burning skin.

“Let me bathe first,” he tells you, unfastening the cape from his shoulders and folding it carefully beside you.

You’re about to protest that he doesn’t have to; you’ll gladly take him smelling of smoke and spattered with demon blood, but Kyojuro is ever the gentleman. And besides, as his strong fingers begin to work open the buttons on his corps uniform, any protest you can conjure simply collides with your pounding heart and withdraws, defeated.

Because as beautiful as Kyojuro is in his uniform, covered entirely and bursting with pride, he’s somehow even more beautiful out of it. His body is sculpted by discipline, battle, and a love for food; strong, sturdy, soft and firm all at once. Every scar and bruise which marks his skin has no doubt served as a lesson; a reminder of how he could have reacted faster, fought better, improved somehow (and it’s Kyojuro, so of course, next time he will).

The sun breaks over the horizon, casting beams of golden light through the wisteria blossoms as he sets his uniform neatly on top of the cape beside you.

“Are you getting in?” he asks, stepping into the water until it reaches his hips. He turns to face you. “Or are you content with watching me?”

Your face prickles, surely as red as the tips of his hair as he grins and waits for your response. And thank God for the wisteria, hiding you from prying eyes as you sit, bare chested and flustered on the warm, smooth wood, fighting the urge to put your hand between your thighs and finish what you started against the door frame.

He seems to sense it too, his gaze dropping lower, to the epicenter of your aching desire. And for the first time since he got home, you notice his breath hitching in his throat as he wades toward you, placing his wet hands at either side of your knees and pushing them together, pressing a kiss to the seam of your thighs.

His eyelids close as he rests his forehead on your lap, his breath hot against your skin as your mouth becomes dry with anticipation and need. But he simply stays there, breathing you in, and, if he’s feeling at all the way you are right now, torturing you both.

Placing a hand on the back of his head you let it sink into soft golden hair and stroke down the back of his neck, enamored with the way he melts against you as you do.

“There were moments…” He’s quiet when he speaks, so quiet it worries you.

He turns his head to the side, eyes still closed as he rests his cheek against the pillow of your thighs, still holding them together.

“Moments?” you say, hoping to clarify. Your hand delves lower, into the firm valley between his shoulder blades. The corner of his mouth rises into a contented smile. You can spend every waking moment touching Kyojuro and he will never get tired of it. Fortunately, neither will you.

“Moments during the mission… when I was afraid I would not make it back to you this time.”

“Oh—” You snap your lips shut, pressing your unoccupied hand to them to ensure their silence. A weight in your chest presses against your ribs; the agonizing knowledge that this man you adore with every cell in your body feared for his life.

You can’t tell him that you imagine that very thing every time the kasugai crow summons him. Every time you awaken to find he didn’t return while you slept. Every time the sun rises and stains the morning sky red.

And no matter how blissful the time you spend together, no matter how bound to his soul you find yours, the fact will always remain that demon slayers rarely live long lives. To love a hashira, is to welcome death to loom above your happiness.

But you know Kyojuro well enough to know there’s nothing you can say to make him quit the corps. You'd have as much success telling him to walk away from you, or asking the moon to come down from the sky. Nothing can quell those twin flames burning in his heart; one for you, the other his duty to lend his strength to those who need it. Even in a world without demons, he would find some way to fight to protect the helpless.

“I believe in you,” you say, truthfully. Even if your heart torments you with thoughts that one day his crow will return without him, you have never doubted his strength or indomitable spirit. “No matter what happens, I want you to know that. You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever known.”

"Thank you," he says, with heart-shattering sincerity.

In an instant his hands are on the boards beside your thighs, his arms taut and arrow-straight beneath him as he lifts himself partway out of the water until his lips are level with yours.

"I should be thanking you," you tease, hoping to lighten the mood and help him forget the fear. "You're putting on such a pretty show for me."

Loud laughter bursts from him, and God, it feels so good to see him happy and carefree. It warms your heart to know that you can give him that solace, this man who fights and faces death for people who don’t even know he exists.

“I need you,” he says with a smile, leaning into you and snatching your breath with a kiss before drawing back. “ Your belief, your strength, your warmth. I need you. In every way.”

You can't stand it anymore. Cupping his jaw in your palm you lean closer, bringing your lips tantalizingly close. "Hurry up and bathe, Kyojuro. I'll make certain those needs are met."

He laughs again, although this time quieter, holding your gaze as he lowers himself back into the water. “Beloved, when have I ever allowed you to meet my needs without ensuring yours are satisfied first?”

His touch sparks embers across your skin as his strong fingers skate between your thighs, finally allowing you to part them. You spread wide for him, letting him see you fully, knowing that you’re already wet, glistening with need.

“Mm,” he sighs hungrily, moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue.

He draws closer as you fight for breath, running your fingers through his fiery mane as you lean back and angle your hips toward him.

The wisteria blooms sway in the breeze as your skin pebbles.

Kyojuro begins as he always does, by kissing a path along your inner thighs, snatching the air from your lungs as your anticipation builds. He nuzzles the soft flesh of your pussy with the tip of his nose, and when his lips finally reach your core, he tastes you slowly, eyes closed and face perfectly serene. And he savors you.

He drags his tongue over your tingling flesh, tasting every bit of you and sighing softly as you gasp and buck your hips beneath him.

But soon, any semblance of hashira discipline crumbles as he grows drunk on you. His hands skate over your thighs, hooking behind your knees to lift your legs onto his broad shoulders. And you know you’re done for.

Kyojuro relishes you like you’re his last meal, his tongue voraciously lapping your clit until your fingers in his hair curl into fists.

Afterall, he never knows when he’ll be called away from you. So he makes it count.

It’s no secret the flame hashira loves to eat, and being his favorite meal is pleasure like you've never known. You gasp as he presses his tongue to your entrance, licking a stripe through your labia to your clit, before surrounding it with the wet heat of his eager mouth. His tongue flutters against you; insatiable, skilled, and hellbent on driving you to climax.

"Kyojuro!" You cry out as your trembling legs wrap around his back, holding him to you.

That earns you an appreciative groan before the wet sound of his mouth on you fills the air once more. Your back arches as he pushes a thick finger into you, stroking you inside as he continues to devour your cunt.

His gentle moans vibrate against your clit as he licks and licks, and he whispers a reverent, "Delicious."

His approval drives you wild, lifting your hips to grind your pussy against his face as shivers of pleasure roll through you, driving you closer and closer to the peak of ecstasy.

“M–more…” you whimper.

Far be it from him to deny you.

You gasp as he slides another finger into you, his other hand spreading your folds so he can lick you harder, deeper, while sucking your clit as though it sustains him.

You come undone with a cry, legs trembling against his back as your fists unfurl to press his face into your pussy. You know he adores this, when your control fully snaps and he knows he has done well, that eager mouth still working you. He groans as your pussy throbs and pulses against his tongue, squeezing his fingers as they continue to pump into you, emerging only so he can put them into his mouth and taste you again.

“Umai,” he whispers, smiling as you lay shattered and delirious with pleasure beside the hot spring.

You chuckle as you ride the ebbing waves of your orgasm, vaguely aware of the flame hashira climbing out of the water and wrapping you in his arms. Before you know it you're inside, lying on the bed.

"Are you ready, Little Flame, or do you need more time to recover?"

You shake your head, gazing at him as he positions himself between your thighs. His broad, muscled chest is flushed pink with a combination of warm water and arousal.

He'll wait as long as it takes if you need it, but there's no denying his excitement. He holds his cock firmly in his strong, scarred hand, gently sliding his thumb through beads of clear precum weeping from the slit. He shivers as he gazes down at your semi-naked body, teeth tugging his lower lip.

God, there's so much you want to do to this man, but if the world is kind, you'll have time for that later. Right now you need his cock inside you. You need simple intimacy, his body against yours.

"Now," you tell him. "I need you now."

You gasp as he slides his dick between your folds, coating it in your slick wetness before teasing your entrance with his tip. And when he enters you, there's no resistance; you're already so wet and ready for him. His back arches as you take him all, your bodies slotting together as though you were made with each other in mind.

For every hour Kyojuro has spent studying flame breathing, he's dedicated the same to studying you. He’s noted your reactions every time you’ve been together this way, memorizing exactly where to touch you, the speed you like best, the pressure, the intensity.  When Kyojuro fucks you, it's an art form, and he’ll spend all day dedicated to it if you let him.

That's when it becomes apparent that those muscles aren't just for show. The control he has over his body is almost supernatural, rolling his hips against you, making sure that with every stroke your pleasure builds so that all that's left for you to do is...

"Breathe," he tells you, as if he isn't the one driving the air from your lungs.

But you try, for him. You try your damned hardest, fingers pressed to his shoulders as you pull in a breath.

"That's it," he sighs against your ear. "Good. So good."

Your face grows hotter. "Is it good for... ohh God."

Kyojuro’s lips part around a silent gasp as he pushes deep into you and your body shivers beneath him. Sparks of pleasure shoot through your lower belly as he thrusts. Your grip on his shoulders slides to his broad chest and around his back, pulling him to you. He yields to you without resistance, closing the space between you until his body is flush with yours; hot and heavy, pressing you into the mattress as he kisses your throat.

"Is it good for you?" You continue, not because there’s any doubt, but because his praise and approval only adds to your pleasure.

He knows it too. "So good, Little Flame. You're taking me so well."

You could spend eternity with Kyojuro and never stop craving him.

Basking in the soft warmth of your cunt, his throat flexes as he parts his lips around a desperate whimper, his breath hot against your throat as he grinds his hips against yours. Tingling heat builds between your thighs as he pumps his cock into you, arching forward to suck your nipple between his lips, strumming it with his tongue.

And you know too well he’s holding back. Kyojuro won’t come like this; he’ll have you on top bouncing on his cock when he’s good and ready for that. No, this is for you, and it doesn’t matter how long it takes; the hashira’s stamina is apparently limitless. But his cool is most definitely crumbling. And when he gets excited he gets loud. Every thrust is punctuated by a desperate moan, the feral sound of it making your toes curl.

“So warm, and wet for me,” he practically growls into your ear as he grinds his hips against your clit. ”I was away for too long. I wanted you so badly. I couldn’t take care of you like I wanted to, but I’m making up for it now, aren’t I?”

You cry out in pleasure as his movements become deeper and more urgent, “Yes.”

“My Little Flame,” he whispers. “All mine.”

Your second orgasm spills through you like molten iron as you cling to him, riding the waves of your release.

“That’s it,” he whispers as you shiver beneath him. “Oh, god, that’s it, that’s it. That’s my girl.”

This man. This man and his damned mouth. You’re no sooner back on earth than you’re craving him again, pushing against the firm wall of his chest and angling your hips to roll onto him. He picks up on your cue immediately, pulling his cock out of you and flipping the pair of you over.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his breath coming in short, sharp pants just for a moment or two before he reins it back. “I can keep making you come until you’re fully satisfied.”

“I am satisfied. And I want you to come,” you tell him, lowering yourself onto his dick. Your head tilts back involuntarily as you take him once more.

As you start to ride him, his amber eyes are trained on you, awestruck as his hands grip your hips, not guiding your pace (he's completely at your mercy in that regard) but holding on to you as though he's afraid you'll somehow slip away from him.

You may not be able to fight away the demons which threaten to hurt him or the horrors those eyes have witnessed. You may not be able to expunge every worry and burden from his life like you want to. But you can give him this. You can give him solace in simple pleasure.

And, if you’re honest, there’s something about watching this man melt beneath you. There’s nothing like seeing your powerful, indomitable warrior reduced to a whimpering wreck as he loses himself in you. It’s a power which only serves to heighten your pleasure.

"I thought about this every night," you tell him. "About riding you like this and watching you come undone."

His throat flexes as he swallows, his gaze following the movement of your chest as you bounce on his cock. There's no doubt he's enjoying the view, but it's impossible to resist doubling over to kiss him, letting him moan against your lips as you slowly rock on top of him. Your heart squeezes with the knowledge that you’re making him feel good, that right now, he’s content and safe and gasping with pleasure because of you.

This is one of the few times Kyojuro is lost for words, but words are unnecessary. You know how good it feels from the pink tinge on his cheeks and blossoming over his chest, from the way he loses the battle to keep his eyes open, closing them and throwing his head back to moan as his fingers dig into your hips. You know he’s close from the way he arches his back, lifting his hips so he can thrust into you as his grip on control slips entirely.

You know all this because he is yours.

“I’m going to come–” he whimpers, his golden irises barely more than a sliver beneath his heavy eyelids. His breath blows hot and hard against your skin as his body undulates beneath you.

When he comes, it’s with a cry, thrusting up into you so hard it forces the air from your lungs, his grip on your hips so tight it will surely leave bruises. And you ride him throughout, driving him into over-stimulation as the sounds of his pleasure fill the room. All that power, all that strength and firm muscle quivers beneath you but you know him well enough to know not to stop.

You ride him as he bares his teeth. “Yes. That’s it. One more,” he whispers, taking your hands in his and pulling you down to his lips. “I know you have one more for me.”

He places his hand between you, sliding it down your body until his fingers brush your clit, sliding through the warm concoction of his spend and your wetness. He teases your swollen flesh, the blush on his cheeks growing darker still as you continue to grind against his overstimulated cock. Your legs burn, your pussy aches. But God, you need this, you need him. It doesn't matter that you’re spent and more than satisfied. You need more, more, more, the two of you trying desperately to claw all the pleasure you can from a world which demands so much sacrifice.

Your orgasm tears through you quickly, your exhausted body giving you just enough pleasure to earn rest for both of you.

He holds you. His lips are cool against your burning cheeks, showering you with gentle kisses as his hands stroke lazy paths along your back.

You lie atop him, ear pressed to his chest as his heart beats against you; steady, constant, and yours. There’s so much you need to tell him, and he already knows all of it. You love him, you missed him, you hope his kasugai crow never calls. You hope that one day you’ll see that golden hair of his turn silver and that his smile will never fade as he reminisces about the days gone by where he fought for humanity; days which will seem like an absurd dream.

But none of it needs to be said.

“You’re home,” you say instead, your voice so soft you doubt he heard it.

But he chuckles gently, coiling your hair around his fingers as he sighs contentedly. “I am.”

#rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku fanfic #rengoku smut #i did it #rengoku x y/n #rengoku x you #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x y/n #kyojuro x you

[scarlet2007]

₊˚꒷꒦︶⊹ The Witcher's Witch₊︶꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader.

[ Master list ]

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Summary: Being rescued by the Witcher after being accused of being a Witch was the last thing you expected in life. But it looks like kindness can go a long way if shown to the right people.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Warnings: Mention of murder, beast slaying, taming wild animals, witch hunting, the reader is beaten up and was about to get burned alive.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Word count: 3.3k

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

The Witcher was finally in town, it was pretty clear from how the people were crowding towards a certain white haired man who stood besides a horse.

The crowd was sneering at the Witcher, calling him names and yelling at him, as if the Witcher was nothing but a mere dirty dog in their eyes. The Mayor of our town finally made an appearance, making the angry people go silent as they all waited for their "king" to speak.

"Ah, Witcher! We have been waiting for your arrival." The mayor chuckled, walking towards the Witcher, who stood tall amongst the crowd, clearly used to the sneering and insults of the people.

"There is an unknown monster lurking in the forest near our town, it had already murdered two people brutally. We need you to take care of the monster." The Mayor spoke as the people continued to glare at the Witcher. Some mothers even went as far as to try and 'shield' their kid from him as if he was the monster that would tear apart their children.

You stood slightly far from the crowd, watching everything occur as you scoffed at the hostility of the people towards the Witcher.

"They are acting as if he can't just kill them all in an instant..." You mumbled, chuckling darkly.

"You better be as good as they say you are, Witcher." Someone hissed, staring at the Witcher in disdain as they tried to stare him down. The Witcher ignored them all as he looked at the Mayor, nodding silently as the Mayor handed him a bag filled with coins.

"Where is the beast?" Asked the Witcher, making you sigh as the people started to talk about the beast all at once. Half of them were made up while the other half were useless.

Finally, the mayor explained everything that they knew about the beast, and where it attacks. You listened intensely, still standing away from the crowd as you stared at the ground in focus.

The Witcher nodded along, before he started to walk in the direction of the forest that was now forbiddened from entering for the safety of the people. You quickly walked in the opposite direction before entering an alley that lead towards the forest as you tried to track down the Witcher.

"Stop following me." A gruff voice said from behind you, making you jump as you turned around to face the dark and tall figure in front of you.

"Oh! It's you..." You sighed in relief, making the Witcher frown.

"Um... Mister... Uh.. sir? Whichever you prefer, I have some information about the beast that might help you." You chuckled nervously, looking around to see if someone was spying on you. You might get in trouble if you were to be seen with the Witcher alone.

"Speak."

You glanced at the Witcher before nodding, "Well... If you think the attack is being done by some sort of animal like a wolf, it's not true. It's not a wolf." You said quickly.

"What makes you think that?"

"W-well-... A wolf was injured because of the said beast and the wounds didn't look like it was from a wolf fight either so..." You mumbled, trying not to act suspicious.

The Witcher stared at you silently. You were acting suspicious and it was evident by the way you talked that you knew more than you told him. The Witcher took a step towards you, making you look up, still standing your ground nervously.

Witcher frowned at your weird behaviour, you were scared but not because of him, but because of something else. Something else was making you nervous.

He opened his mouth to speak before a sudden growl intrupted him, making both of them tense up as he grabbed his sword, stepping in front of you protectively. A wolf stood before them, glaring and growling at the Witcher, ready to pounce.

"Stay back-" The Witcher mumbled was unheard as you stood in front of him, glaring at the wolf.

"Sky!" You hissed, still standing in front of the Witcher. It would've amused him if they weren't in a tense situation. You, a young girl, perhaps in your mid 20s, standing before the Witcher with no weapons, as the Witcher behind you towered you with his height. You looked tiny compared to his frame, both height and muscle wise.

The Witcher felt annoyed at your pathetic attempt to tame a wild wolf, as if the wolf would suddenly transform into a domesticated puppy and obey your every command.

The wolf continued to growl but it slowly started to approach you, the wolf stance becoming slightly relaxed as it stared at you and your hand that was outstretched in front of you. The Witcher looked at the exchange in slight confusion, his expression was still stoic but he felt confused.

"Sky, come on, what did I tell you about jumping in front of guests like a beast? Hmm?" You mumbled as you patted the wolf, the wolf's tail wagging behind him.

"You... Tamed the injured wolf..?" Asked the Witcher, eyeing them warily. It's not everyday that someone saves a wolf, let alone tame them.

"I would prefer 'befriended' and yes, I did. He is a sweetheart. That is also why I wanted to warn you that this wolf is not the beast. Oh! And the beast also does not live here. It lives deeper into the woods, this area is just the edge of the forest. The people... They forgot to mention something important." You glanced at him as you stood up, the wolf standing besides you in his fully height, his black fur and tall height made it look intimidating, the wolf looked strong and but the bandages around his torso also did not go unnoticed by the Witcher, making him believe the story that you told him about patching up a wounded wolf even though it sounded bizarre and made up.

"What is it?"

You bite your lips, looking at the forest, deep in thoughts before finally speaking.

"The town people provoked the beast. Some drunkards wanted to prove to the people that there was no such beast residing in the depths of the woods, so they went ahead despite the warnings and... Well, only their mangled up bodies made it back here. That's why the people think that the beast resides in the edge of the forest and not deep within."

The Witcher's frown, staring at you for a while before speaking.

"They knew that there was a beast?"

You nodded, "The beast is older than most of us, the tales have been circulating amongst the people since past few generations, it can probably be dated back to the generation of our grandparents, something similar happened but this time, the beast is... More angry. It didn't kill people before like it did now, or at least that's what the people say."

The Witcher sighed at your words. This was more work than he intended to do. If the beast was as old as you said it was, then it wouldn't die without putting up a great fight and he was in no position to get into a full-on battle in his tired state.

"Sir..? You look tired, and I doubt the villagers asked you to rest or offered you food, would you..." You trailed off, laughing awkwardly as you stared at the Wolf, Sky, instead of the Witcher as you continued in a quiet manner, "Like something to eat?"

The Witcher froze, not expecting an act of kindness, especially from someone like you. He stared at you suspiciously, thinking that you had ulterior motives to offer him something like that. You looked at him in alarm, as if sensing his chain of thoughts as you waved your hands in front of you. "I don't need anything in return, i promise! It's just... You look tired and hungry."

The Witcher didn't say anything, simply staring at you for a solid minute before nodding his head along with a stoic, "hm."

"Um.. sir? Where did you leave your horse?" You asked suddenly.

"It's outside the woods."

"Ah... You can bring your horse in, this part of the woods is safe and Sky isn't going to hurt your horse, I can assure you that much." You smiled at him, the Wolf still standing guard besides you.

"How do you know it's safe here?" The Witcher rolled his eyes.

"Well... I live here. My cottage is just a few minutes walk away from here."

"You... Live in the middle of the woods?"

"It's the edge and yes, I prefer living here." That made the Witcher frown his eyebrows in confusion as he walked beside you to get his horse.

"Why? Isn't the town safer?"

You stayed silent for a while before chuckling softly. "Perhaps. But I am not too fond of the people there." The Witcher could see why, so he stayed silent and walked towards his horse.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

You provided food and a place for the Witcher to rest, which he found weird and bizarre but didn't complain about. You insisted that the Witcher rest for at least a day before he went to hunt down the beast, saying that it will give him more benefit in battle if he is well rested and fed. The horse, which you learnt was called Roach, was spoiled rotten too. It looked like you had a liking towards animals and insects, finding them adorable and taking care of them and for some reason, animals seem to like you too, even the most wild animals liked you and it was evident with how the wild wolf acted like a domesticated dog in front of you. The food you prepared for the Witcher was amazing, and the spare room was also comfortable enough for the Witcher to sleep in but you insisted that he slept in your room instead, that the spare room wasn't that clean and that you would sleep in the spare room instead. The Witcher tried to decline politely but you were stubborn and he ended up getting the best sleep he ever has in your bed while you slept in the spare room.

Your whole cottage was filled with plants, flowers and books. The plants weren't everywhere but the ones you did have inside were too pretty and went well with your theme. Your cottage had a cozy feeling to it, the aroma of tea and lavender was always present, along with some books lying here and there. It made the cottage feel like a home that the Witcher didn't have.

The Witcher thanked you before venturing off to hunt the beast, giving you a small, awkward smile before leaving. You waved enthusiastically at him, wishing him luck before rushing after Sky, who has decided to run after a rabbit.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

When the Witcher came back, the cottage was a mess, making him frown as he couldn't find you or Sky. It looked like you left somewhere in a hurry as there was still uncooked food on the table, half done and some books were scattered on the ground.

The Witcher went towards the town, the head of the beast was hanging from his hand. The battle against the beast wasn't easy, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

The town was filled with commotion, people gathering around a tall tree, yelling at something or rather, someone.

As he walked closer, he could hear what they were saying clearly.

"Burn the Witch! Burn her! She was the one who brought the beast to the town!" Someone yelled venomously, making the Witcher frown his eyebrows as he walked towards the crowd. The Mayor took immediate notice of his presence as the people stopped yelling.

"Ah! Witcher! You are back and you brought the beast's head with you." The Witcher paid the Mayor zero attention as he stared at the scene in front of him. Someone was bounded to the tree with thick ropes, blood pooling underneath them as it dropped from the wound on their arm. It looked like a young girl, which made the Witcher slightly nervous. He couldn't see her face, as her head was down, her hair covering her face. The only thing that made it evident that she was alive was the quick motion of her chest falling up and down as she breath heavily.

The Mayor, displeased with the Witcher's ignorance towards his words, turned his attention to the girl instead. He stepped closer to the girl and gripped her hair, making her wince as he forced her to look up.

Witcher's breath hitched as he saw your pained face, staring directly at him before looking at the Mayor in fear.

"The beast you called upon is long dead now, Witch. You have no one to save you now." The Mayor hissed, staring at your face as he continued to hold your hair in a tight grip, making you wince.

You were already weak from the beatings and the lack of food, your head throbbing painfully under the harsh Sun. You were dehydrated, hungry, wounded and scared.  Oh, you were so so scared.

A lot has happened in the span of just four days after your last meeting with the Witcher.

You flinched when someone threw another stone at you again, wincing at the sharp pain that erupted from your temple, where the stone landed, making it bleed.

You couldn't even look at the Witcher, humiliation filled your body as you stared at the ground, willing yourself to not cry. You have yet to let the tears flow and you want to keep it that way. You want to keep some of your dignity, if there was even any left.

"What's going on?" You closed your eyes as you heard Witcher ask the Mayor. You didn't want him to think that you were someone evil, but you weren't sure if the Witcher will believe you over the Mayor's word or the people's word. You just silently hoped that they won't answer his question but your hopes died quickly as the Mayor began to tell him what happened.

"This girl, this witch, is the one that unleashed the very beast you hold in your hands. She was seen with a wolf, commanding him to attack innocents! She can put animals and beasts under her spell, making them do whatever she please." The Mayor spit out, glaring at you as you kept your eyes closed and your head low.

"Just look at her! She has been punished but she has yet to utter a word of apology or even a tear in remorse! She is a threat to the town and the people!"

"Burn her!"

"Kill her!"

Were the words that followed soon after the Mayor stopped talking, making the Witcher step in front of you protectively, just like how he did before when he saw Sky as a threat.

"Witcher, what are you doing?!" The Mayor fumed, staring at the Witcher in anger and annoyance.

"Keep your hands away from the girl." He said quietly, his sword already out, the beast's head thrown somewhere on the ground. No one dared to put up a fight against the Witcher, everyone was too cowardly to try and fight him.

"The Witch has put you under a spell too, Witcher!" The Mayor exclaimed as the people started to insult both of you.

You whimpered, staring at the people and the Witcher in fear.

"What good will it do to you even if you safe her? She is a damned witch that should rot in hell for her crimes!" The people agreed, trying to step closer to her before the Witcher pointed his sword towards them, making them step back in fear.

"I will keep her."

That made the whole town silent as you stared at the Witcher in confusion and shock.

He couldn't let them kill you, not when you were the only one that treated him like a human and showed him kindness, it pained him to see you in such a state and he will not let you get harmed. You took care of him, and it was now his turn to do so.

He gripped his sword tightly, glaring at whoever dared to step towards them.

"Give me the girl." He hissed, his gaze making everyone scared, some even rushing away to their home to not face his wrath.

The air was tense, people stared at you and the Witcher with scared and disgusted expression while the Mayor was deep in thought. The town was known for its cowardly people and after watching the Witcher walk with the head of a beast in his hand, nobody wanted to fight him.

"What will we get in return if we let the girl go unpunished?" The Mayor asked, smirking as he stared at the Witcher.

"You can keep your coins." He grumbled, throwing the pouch of coins towards the Mayor that he got as a payment when he first came here to slay the beast.

The Mayor checked the pouch before letting them go, commanding people to go inside their houses as they rushed away.

"You are lucky, or else today would've been your last day, witch." The mayor muttered venomously before leaving them be.

You flinched when Witcher's blade cut throw the thick ropes, all at once as you stumbled forward. He caught you, making you wince as it made you put some pressure on your wounds. The Witcher carried you towards your cottage, but not before the Mayor warned them that they had to leave before noon, and if they failed to do so, they will both be punished and killed. The threat made you tense, as you tried to make yourself as small as possible in his arms as he walked you towards your cottage.

"Where's sky?" He asked, trying to break the silence.

"I made him leave. The... The people saw him and they would've hunted him down or hurt him..." You mumbled, sniffling a bit as he sat you down on your bed.

He nodded in understanding, before cleaning yours wounds.

"You should go wash yourself and pack." You glanced at him, wondering what he meant by 'pack'.

"We need to leave. Make sure to only pack the necessary things like clothes and some food." He muttered, staring at you.

You looked scared, and timided, not like the lively girl he met that day that took care of him. It made his heart clench painfully for some reason.

"Oh... A-are you... Taking me in?" You asked slowly, stuttering a bit.

He nodded silently, walking out of your room to let you bath and change. Your voice suddenly made him stop.

"You... You can use the bathroom in the spare room to freshen up too!" He smiled a bit as he heard you, making his way towards the spare room.

After you were done packing and ready to leave, you both stood in front of the Mayor at the gate of the town, you stood behind Witcher, trying to hide from anyone's view, the Mayor stared at you both as you began to walk away from the town, making sure that you both were out of the town.

After walking beside Witcher and Roach, you glanced at him as you handed him a pouch with gold coins.

"U-um... I know what you did for me can never be paid by coins, but... I still want to thank you and repay you for saving me and giving up the coins you got as a payment." You mumbled quietly.

"Keep them." He grumbled, walking towards you.

"Do you know how to get on a horse?" You shook your head, making him chuckle at how cute you looked while doing so.

"Let me help you." You nodded as he grabbed your waist gently, trying to avoid any wounds as he helped you on the horse. It made your heart beat quicken with how close you both were.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Geralt." You looked at him in confusion.

"My name is Geralt, just call me by my name."

You stared at him in shock before smiling wildly, "Okay, Geralt!"

And for some reason, Geralt loved the way you said his name.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

#geralt of rivia #the witcher #witcher fanfiction #witcher netflix #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of river x reader #henry cavill #henry cavil x reader #witch #the witcher fluff #yennifer #jaskier #the witcher imagine #geralt imagine #geralt of rivera #witcher 3 #henry cavil x y/n #witcher x reader #fanfic #witcher fandom #geralt fanfic #scarlet2007

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

I really love you aemond fics!! The angst always on point, so I have a request you can reject it.

After the birth of thier child who doesn't hold targaryen features, aemond doubts his wife, and his mother doesn't help ease his doubts. He refuses to see her or even be in the same room, which makes the reader falls into depression it wasn't until the babe was few months old and able to open their eyes probably that the violet targaryen eyes are shown. He hears it from her personal maid and then tries to redeem himself after seeing the state she has fallen into, feeling great guilt because of his mistrust to her.

Sorry if it's too long and thank you!

Woof, nonnie, you're going straight for the jugular with this request.

I hope you don't mind, but I've altered this slightly to fit with the headcanons I have for Aemond. Drabble below the gif and cut. This is SFW, but still 18+.

You cried, tears of relief and exhaustion rolling down your cheeks as you fell back into the pillows. Finally able to relax, hours of painful and intensive labour were at an end as the nursemaids worked to remove the afterbirth and wrap your squalling bundle.

Aemond ceased his anxious pacing as the babe was placed into your waiting arms. Striding towards the bed and seating himself on the edge of it, he placed his arms around you protectively, kissing the crown of your head. "You did so well, my love, I'm proud of you."

"Congratulations, Prince and Princess, you have a healthy baby girl." smiled the nursemaid.

You beamed up at your husband, as you cradled your newborn daughter to your chest.

The look of adoration and wonder shone bright in Aemond's violet eye as he gazed down at the infant. "We will call her Alysanne" he whispered.

You smiled, offering a tired "hmmm" in agreement. You eyes were heavy with impending sleep.

"I will let you rest, my love", Aemond said softly, placing a delicate kiss to your temple, "I must tell my mother the wonderful news. Avy jorrāelan." I love you.

Aemond had a spring in his step as he walked the corridors of the Red Keep towards his mother's apartments. He was a father, surely there was nothing that could sully this happy feeling?

Chatter from the courtyard below caused his ears to prickle, and he stopped in his tracks, lingering behind a pillar to mask his presence as he eavesdropped.

"I just can't imagine wanting to couple with...him..." a lady's voice said, full of disgust.

"I know!" the other assented, "Imagine having to look upon that marred face. It would make me sick."

"I shouldn't imagine that princess does look upon him much. Who would want to?"

"Yes, it's highly unlikely the babe is his. A bastard, I reckon."

Aemond had heard enough. Bile rose in his throat, as his heart hammered wildly in his chest. The search for his mother forgotten, he found his legs carrying him back towards your bed chambers.

Insecurity fuelled his actions. You'd never given Aemond any reason to doubt your love or devotion for him. If anything, you were slightly over eager to perform your marital duties and Aemond basked in the attention you rained down upon him.

There was always a niggling doubt in the back of his mind though. "She can do better. She deserves someone whole."

He swept back into the room, regarding you coldly, as he stood at the foot of the bed.

You paused your rocking of your fussing infant and looked up questioningly at your husband.

"Is she mine?" he demanded.

Aemond regretted the words the instant they left his mouth, seeing the hurt expression that crumpled your soft features.

"How can you ask such a thing?!" you gasped, holding Alysanne protectively to your chest, as if to shield her from the insinuation his question carried.

He felt his heart twist urgently in his chest as he struggled to find the words to placate you. "I..."

"Leave us!" you snapped, hot tears scalded the rims of your tired eyes.

Aemond felt as though his very soul was being torn from his body, he reached forward, desperate to comfort you in your fragile state.

"I said leave us!" you all but screamed, tears now flowing hotly down your cheeks. Your daughter wailed in your arms.

Aemond turned, downtrodden, and walked away. "What the fuck have I just done?" he thought to himself.

After a few hours riding on Vhagar, Aemond returned to the Red Keep with a sense of clarity and deep regret.

He slipped quietly into your bedchambers. You were asleep, unsurprisingly. The hour was late and your labours had left you exhausted.

Baby Alysanne lay gurgling in her cradle beside you. As he gazed down at the babe, the pale moonlight reflected the vibrant lilac hue of her doubtless Targaryen eyes. He hated himself for ever questioning her parentage. For questioning your loyalty.

He gingerly reached into the cradle, stroking a gentle hand over his baby daughter. A lone tear tracked its way down his cheek as she grasped his index finger in her little fist.

"ñuha byka zaldrīzes, iksan sīr vaoreznuni", he whispered. My tiny dragon, I am so sorry.

You awoke as the sun was rising, bleary eyed and waiting for the room to swim back into focus. Confused as to why you hadn't been awoken by the cries of your daughter.

The sight that finally met your eyes when you eventually sat up immediately melted your heart, all anger you'd felt for Aemond the previous day dissipated.

He sat slumped in an armchair beside the bed, dozing as Alysanne lay sleeping soundly on his chest. One of his large hands was splayed protectively across her back as she nuzzled into his neck.

You were unable to stop the happy tears that flowed freely and your sniffles startled Aemond from his light slumber.

Slowly and with much care he lifted baby Alysanne from him, placing her back in her cradle and moving to sit beside you on the bed.

"I am so sorry", he whispered, his voice mere moments from cracking, as he pulled you into his arms.

"All is forgiven, my love," you stroked his hair to soothe him, "I know you did not mean it, but why ever did you say it?"

He inhaled a shuddering breath, before pulling away from you and cupping your face as he looked earnestly into your eyes. "I overheard some common folk yesterday saying how awful it must be for you to have to lay with me and I am ashamed to say I let my own thoughts get the better of me."

"Oh, Aemond", you whimpered, "How can you let anyone make you think that? You know there is no one I would rather have as my husband than you. No one I love more."

"I know", he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "And I will never doubt you again."

"Good", you quipped, pressing forward to capture his lips with yours. When you finally broke apart you whispered, "And if you tell me who these common folk were, I will have them fed to Vhagar."

He chuckled drily. "Avy jorrāelan, ñuha nēdenka zaldrīzes." I love you, my fierce dragon.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen x reader

[lvrdrafts]

Crumbs of Cinnamon, Mended Hearts

Summary: You are in the hospital after an attempted suicide but you feel less alone than ever

Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of suicide

A/N: Imma make a part 4 cus I wanna make Bucky suffer

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

You were at an all-time low, you couldn’t imagine a life without Bucky and it made you miserable.  You started to have fewer customers since the negative attitude in the bakery was not one that made people want to come back.  You couldn’t go back to your family, they thought the bakery was a bad idea in the first place and you could already imagine the shame on their face.  You were all alone with no friends, family, and work.

You didn’t have enough money to pay for rent for the bakery or your home and now you were forced to sell your dream store.  You felt as if your whole world was crumbling from one man.

Bucky had noticed your bakery had now been for sale and he was seeing you in the apartment less and less.  He was starting to worry about you but every night Diana helped him forget about those worries.  So the worry became more of a task put on hold.

You didn’t want to bear the pain anymore so you decided to end it.  You had went to the bridge at the park at midnight.  You didn’t want to be saved or seen.

You felt the whole world slow down, the cold breeze hitting your shoulder. As you jumped you felt your life flashed before you. The instant your body was completely submerged, you froze. The panic talking a complete hold of you.  You realized you didn’t want to die but it was too late.  As your eyes were beginning to close but you saw someone ,a man with wings, an angel, dive into the water.  Then it all went black and you feel as if your body has given up.

At the hospital Sam was pacing around, worried if he was not quick enough to save you.  That’s when Bucky came in asking everyone where you were.

“I’m gone for two weeks and I’m flying back home to see my best friend committing suicide.  How the fuck does that happen” Sam yells at Bucky trying to hold back his anger as much as possible.

“I fucked up.  I fucked up so bad and I pushed her away and I acted like a dick and I-“ Bucky starts ranting on but Sam ignores him.  Sam had finally gotten on good terms with Bucky but it all seemed to crumble. 

As Sam was about to comment, the Doctor came in and said you are able to get visits.  Sam rushes in to see you.

“y/n/n what the fuck where you thinking. You scared the hell out of me" Sam admitted, his voice cracking with emotion.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she replied, "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to put anyone in danger. I just... I felt overwhelmed. I don't even know how I'm alive, it's like an angel rescued me. I don't know if it was real or just my mind playing tricks on me." you chuckle laughing at that foolish thought.

Sam looked at you with a gentle smile, hiding the truth behind his eyes. "That sounds like quite an experience. Sometimes, our minds can create extraordinary things in moments of distress. But what matters is that you're here, safe and sound."

Sam cleared his throat, looking at you with a mix of relief and affection. "Y/n, I can't tell you how happy I am that you're alive and getting better. I was so scared when I found out what happened, and I couldn't bear the thought of losing you."

Sam's eyes glistened with emotion, and he squeezed your hand gently. "You're a strong person, y/n, and you've been through so much. But I want you to know that you don't have to face anything alone. I have a friend who has a friend who is willing to pay for your bakery and I can help around the bakery." Sam says putting his hand on your shoulder as you look in his eyes thinking how lucky you were to have him "You don't have to do this alone."

Sam's grip on your hand tightened, and he looked into your eyes with such intensity that it took your breath away. "Y/n, I can't bear the thought of losing you," he confessed, his voice trembling with emotion. "When I found out you got hurt I realized how much you mean to me, how much I care about you."

"I was so worried, and I couldn't stop thinking about all the things I wanted to tell you," Sam continued, his vulnerability shining through. "If something had happened to you, and I never got the chance to say it, I would regret it for the rest of my life. So, here it is: I love you, y/n, with all my heart. And I promise to always be here for you, no matter what."

"I... I feel the same way, Sam," you replied, your voice filled with emotion. "You've been there for me through everything, and I can't thank you enough for that. You mean so much to me."

Sam smiled, relief was evident in his eyes. "I'm so glad you feel the same way, Y/N. I want to be here for you"

Before the two of you could say more, Sam's phone suddenly rang, interrupting the moment. He gave you an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I need to take this call. I'll be right back."

As Sam stepped out to take the call, you were left alone in the room with your thoughts. That's when the door opened, and Bucky entered quietly. His expression was one of remorse, and he seemed to hesitate before speaking.

"Y/N, I... I'm sorry," Bucky said, his voice filled with genuine regret. "I should have been there for you, and I should have realized what you were going through. I didn't mean to push you away, and I'm so sorry for not being the friend you needed."

You looked at Bucky, feeling a mix of emotions. Part of you wanted to hear his apology and accept it, but another part of you couldn't forget the pain of his rejection. You remained silent, not knowing what to say.

"I know I messed up, and I don't expect you to forgive me," Bucky continued, his voice filled with sadness. "But I just wanted you to know that I truly am sorry."

Before you could respond, Sam returned to the room, and you could sense the tension between him and Bucky. Sam looked at Bucky for a moment, then at you, his expression softening.

As Sam noticed the lingering tension in the room, he gently squeezed your hand and looked towards the door. "Hey, I think Y/N might need some alone time right now," he suggested, giving Bucky an understanding look.

Bucky glanced at you, his expression conflicted, but he nodded in agreement. "You're right," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'll give her some space."

As Bucky turned to leave, you felt a mix of emotions, unsure of what to say or do. Before you could say anything, Sam leaned closer, cupping your face gently with his hand, and pressed a soft kiss on your lips.

Bucky paused for a moment, his hand on the doorknob, and then he turned back to look at you one last time. His expression was a mix of sadness and frustration, and without saying a word, he slammed the door shut behind him.

The hours passed, and Sam stayed by your side, offering quiet companionship and support. Eventually, the fatigue of the day caught up with you, and your eyes grew heavy.

"I think it's time for you to rest," Sam said softly, seeing the exhaustion in your eyes. "I'll be right here if you need anything."

You nodded, feeling grateful for his presence. "Thank you, Sam. You've been amazing," you murmured, already feeling yourself drift off to sleep.

Sam smiled tenderly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "Sleep well, Y/N," he whispered, his voice a soothing lullaby. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Taglist

@marygoddessofmischief @666yourmomdotcom @openup-yourmind @almosttoopizza @maddieislost @kentokaze @floralwslokicjand10 @vicmc624 @sunset90 @cjand10 @matchat3a @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @blueraspberryreader @that1nerd-20 @chemtrails-club @marvel-fandom23 @mewmeoww @niyah834 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @christinesdemoness1958 @matchat3a @kentokaze @mayusenpai666 @smplymrvl @chemtrails-club @emerald-writer @zeysartzone

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x reader angst

[golden-afternoon]

Whoa okay hi another one hit me like a freight train unexpectedly. What can I say? I needed to make him cry.

Warnings - gn!reader, dacryphilia, chair bondage, trying to not get caught, again this was a possession that overtook me so this is all straight from brainrot to page. This is becoming more frequent. Should I be concerned? ...nah I'm sure its fine

He’s always been beautiful. But right now, you were certain he couldn’t possibly become anymore perfect.

The most striking carnelian eyes staring up at you, coated in a delicate gloss from tears that haven’t quite fallen yet. Lashes long enough to make any woman envious clump and cling together, lined with pretty little dew drops of tears that shine in the low light of his room. Another tear slips from his eye to slowly trail down his cheek, disappearing in a still damp track where dozens of tears had been rolling not long before.

Gritting his teeth, he draws in a hitching, shaky breath, his exposed chest visibly stuttering with the effort to remain silent so as not to alert his roommate to his predicament. Not that he wanted it to stop, though one may have easily assumed as much, what with how tightly he was tied to his desk chair, rendering him almost entirely immobile besides his hips and head, completely at your mercy.

Poor thing, he did his best to remain quiet even with the intense feelings no doubt gripping him after having been teased mercilessly by your gentle hand for the better part of an hour. He counted at least three ruined orgasms, but honestly with how much of a mess his mind was at this point, he couldn’t be entirely sure. Hips thrusting meekly at the air, limited by the bindings he had oh so eagerly suggested you use, he sunk his teeth into his plush bottom lip, tasting the familiar flavor of iron run across his tongue from the force.

You however, merely chuckle innocently at his misery, placing both of your hands on the back of the chair behind him. The most sugary sweet of smiles forms on your lips as you lower yourself to his eye level, giving you an even better view of those pretty eyes.

“Hmm? What’s wrong? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Your soft teasing voice seems to spark a fire behind his eyes, a fire you are all too familiar with. His mouth opens with clear intent to offer a biting word back at you, but anything he may have thought up dies instantly in his throat when he feels your hand curl around his flushed, leaking cock once more. His head drops at once at the sudden rush of feeling against his aching length, he can feel it throb against your palm with joy at the sensation. All he can muster is a cracked little whimper that sounded far more pathetic than he ever cared to be in front of you, much to his growing shame. He had expected to be able to hold out longer than he was, fully going into this with his head held high that he would never crack, yet here he was, biting back needy whines as he rocks his hips with his limited range of motion, desperately craving every bit of friction he can get.

And yet… as much as his helplessness was causing him pain right now, something about the way you looked at him like this made him know full well he was going to ask you for this kind of stress relief again in the future. Probably even sooner than he cared to admit.

Slowly, he lifted his head to face you once more, gazing up at you from under his uncharacteristically messy blonde bangs. His expression was so pitifully needy that it sent a shiver down your spine, the heat of his look going straight to your core in an instant. He blinks and it sends more of those crystalline tears down his face.

Truly, he couldn’t be any more beautiful than he is right now.

#sunny brainrots #a little bit of spice #genshin posting #kaveh #kaveh smut #kaveh x reader #yeah don't know what happened here #wore his earrings this morning and then he possessed me demanding this #shrug sorry i dont make the rules ig

[batwritings]

Now hear me out, Blaze! Sapnap and Bunny hybrid! Reader, their separate mating seasons line up and they both are a complete mess of really horny and affectionate. They both have been trying to hold off, but things just get too intense and they give into the instinctual urges.

Is it bad that whenever I write for Sapnap now I purely listen to The Weeknd? Hmm...Enjoy!~

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

Sapnap knew how dangerous his mating cycles could get. Being a Blaze, he eventually had to give up spending those long days in his own living situation because of how many times he burned his possessions or parts of his abode. The last thing he wanted was to end up burning you.

It took you by surprised when you felt your own heat creep up on you as you woke up. The room felt hot, hotter than it normally did when your mating cycle came around. "So this is going to be a bad one," you thought, clenching your legs together to try to stave off the pulse of pleasure that ran across your skin.

A sharp inhale caught your floppy ears, causing them to perk a bit. Your head snapped up to see Sapnap, tips of his pointed ears practically smoking with how singed they were. He was fiddling with the lucky rabbit's foot he'd found and you'd blessed with your own luck.

"Sap...?" You asked, your groggy morning voice making his tail flick restlessly. "You okay?" It was then that his scorching eyes met yours.

"You're in heat," he answered, fangs nicking his lip as he tried to keep himself from all but pouncing on you. "And my rut is here." Your ears fell back a bit at that, a wave of pure submission rushing through your body. "I have been trying all goddamn morning not to burn your door down. You reek."

You knew what he was getting at; instinct was starting to take over and your poor Blazeborn boyfriend was having a hard time not acting on his body's needs. You either needed to leave right now or you'd be spending your cycle together. No other way around it.

Despite being fully aware of the concerns Sapnap held for this time of the year for him, you flung your covers off. "C'mon then," you permitted. He was on you in an instant, claws practically tearing at your baggy shirt and sleep shorts.

If anyone thought the blaze hybrid eagerly marking up your neck was feral in his day to day, none of them had ever properly seen him in the thralls of his mating cycle. He was more animalistic than you were, the bunny hybrid, as he kissed and bit down your body. You did your best to pull his practically burning member free so he could do just what he came here to do.

You heard him whine as you took him in your hand to line him up. Even with a haze of lust clouding his mind, Sapnap was still worried about your safety. "Shh," you hushed gently, letting the head of his cock slip inside. "I've got you big guy." Despite your own mind starting to fill with lewd thoughts, you knew he needed you right now.

The Blazeborn hybrid was quick to slam into your tight heat, a silent scream forming on your lips. He was rough, desperate, and eager as he pounded into you without hesitation. Your claws unsheathed, digging into his biceps as your legs locked around his waist. Warm breath tickled your neck as Sapnap keened against your skin.

There was some weird relief flooding through the both of you as you each finally came. Sapnap's cum felt molten, like he might burn your insides if he kept it up. Yet your slightly satiated brain could only settle for peppering his heated cheeks with kisses as thanks.

This was going to be a long cycle, and you truly couldn't wait.

#bat writes #anon reqs #sapnap smut #dsmp smut #mcyt smut

[ctitan98official]

@alexander-23 : I have another request! Larissa x gender neutral or female reader. Reader is nauseous and feels sick and tired. They are really weak and burning up and Larissa finds them in a very fragile headspace or something. Larissa takes care of them, comforting them and making sure they feel well cared for and protected. I really can’t wait to read more of you Larissa Weems fics! I’m so excited!

Great prompt! Super excited to be writing for her now! I only write gender-neutral reader, so I hope you enjoy this, my friend. Let’s get into it!

TW/CW: Mentions of throwing up

You wake up to the sensation of intense heat engulfing your body, making you feel weak and exhausted. The first thing you realize is that Larissa is not next to you. That just makes you feel worse. She comforts you like no one else can.

As you sit up, the room suddenly spins around you and a wave of nausea crashes over you, threatening to pull you under. Each breath feels like a chore and your head is pounding with an unrelenting ache. As you struggle to stay upright, you realize you’re going to be sick.

With great effort, you manage to swing your legs over the edge of the bed and rise to your feet. You try to rush to the toilet, but every step feels like walking through quicksand.

You somehow make it to the bathroom in time and throw up. You heave violently, but your stomach is so empty that you end up only vomiting bile.

You are so weak that you end up passing out on the bathroom floor. Your body is burning up and you shiver unconsciously.

After a while, Larissa notices that you are not up yet which is unusual. She closes her laptop and leaves her office to go and check on you… Only to find you splayed out on the floor. “Y/N!” She cries out. She gently moves your body so that you are sitting up and her actions rouse you from your haze.

“Larissa?” You ask, confused and delirious.

Larissa has tears in her eyes as she takes in how sick you are. She has never seen you like this. You are usually so full of life and mischievous energy. It kills her to see her precious one so ill. “Hi, my love. You’re alright. I’m going to take care of you, okay?” She reassures and runs her fingers through your sweaty hair.

You’re barely lucid, but you nod at her words.

She carefully guides you back to bed and you lie back as Larissa tends to you, her eyes filled with concern. She puts a cool cloth to your forehead, providing instant relief from the relentless heat. Her soft hands cradle yours, offering comfort and reassurance. She knows you’re in a fragile state.

Just her being with you makes you feel a little better, as if her love has the power to heal.

Larissa speaks softly, her voice a soothing melody that lulls your troubled mind. She tells you that everything will be okay, that she’s right there with you.

Her words are like a balm to your weary soul, offering a sense of security. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to surrender to her care, knowing that she will watch over you.

Hours pass in a haze, but Larissa remains by your side, cradling your head to her chest and giving it occasional kisses. She brings you water, ensuring you stay hydrated, and makes you some soup, something your weakened body can handle. She feeds you herself, happy that she is able to get a bit of food in you. Her touch is gentle yet firm, as if she knows exactly what you need in each moment.

Larissa has always been excellent at taking care of others. It’s a deep part of who she is. She becomes your anchor, your guiding light through the storm. With each passing moment, you feel a glimmer of strength returning to your weary body, fueled by the love she has for you.

As the day fades into night, Larissa tucks you into bed. She whispers sweet words of encouragement, promising to stay by your side until you feel better. You drift off to sleep, your dreams filled only of Larissa.

Maybe being sick doesn’t have to be so bad. As long as you have Larissa, you’re content.

Masterlist

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #principal weems #larissa x reader #larissa x y/n #netflix wednesday

[professionallydeadinside]

HEY. UH. The Passenger Swap!AU be upon ye-

How do people usually react to incredibly stressful situations? If they’re lucky, they never even have to find out. Some fly, some fight, some freeze.

Benson discovered that he fawned.

“Hey. He-hey Randy.” He put his hands up defensively, as if they could in any way lighten the blow of the shotgun shell that Benson anticipated would tear through his chest at any second. The acrid smell of blood was heavy in the air, causing Benson’s mind to swim and nearly forcing up what little food he had in his stomach. His fingers shook ever so slightly and Benson prayed the man before him didn’t notice.

“Randy. I get it. I get you. Chris was getting on your nerves and I get that. He’s an asshole. You just need some help.”

A strum of panic laced through his spine as the sound of the shotgun racking echoed in the silent restaurant. Randy’s eyes looked dull and stared straight through Benson, like he could tell Benson wanted nothing more than to run but couldn’t because of his own fear.

“I wanna help you, okay? We have like, what, seven hours? We can clean up, use my car, get rid of these clothes. Today can be all about you. I can help you.”

The words rushed out in one long string. Benson was sure he could’ve kept rambling but talking too much was the exact thing that killed Chris, so he shut his mouth.

Randy tipped his head up the slightest bit, trying to get a better look at Benson from underneath his greasy hair and low angled work hat. The silence between them persisted.

Counting his breaths to calm himself, Benson took a step closer. He took it as a little victory that Randy didn’t seem to react to the intrusion to his space. Still, Benson was acutely aware of the unwavering shotgun aimed at him.

“Come on Randy. Imagine where we could be in seven hours.”

When no reply came, Benson felt his heart rate speed up. He thought of everything he hadn’t been able to do. He thought of his mother at home, waiting for a son that would never come home again. He thought about every time previously he could’ve told Chris to piss off and maybe, just maybe, could’ve prevented Randy from snapping as badly as he did.

He wished he’d run the second the shots started ringing out.

But the sight of the gun lowering caused relief to come flooding over Benson in such an intense wave he nearly buckled to the ground. The tense atmosphere of the restaurant unpausing in an instant.

“Okay.” Randy croaked, swallowing down a noise that sounded like a cry. He set the gun onto the counter and surveyed the bodies of their coworkers turning cold.

“Help me clean this up.” Nodding, Benson immediately complied with Randy’s request. Even though the other man was smaller than him and Benson could no doubt beat him in a fight, a small part of him saw how Randy’s eyes were glassy with tears. How there was blood pricking at divots in his palms caused by his own nails. And foolishly, he sympathized with him.

Benson could do this. Somewhere during the day he could call the police. He just needed to last a few hours.

Just a few hours.

#the passenger 2023 #the passenger #randy bradley #benson the passenger #my writing

[heyyyitsmegen]

I Choose You

"Belly, can we talk?" Jeremiah's voice trembled as he approached me, his eyes filled with an unmistakable intensity. I could feel my heart skip a beat at the sight of him, my childhood friend turned something more.

I nodded, my voice barely a whisper. "Of course."

We walked together along the deserted beach, the waves crashing against the shore in rhythm with my racing heartbeat. I anxiously wrung my hands together, unsure of what Jeremiah wanted to say. Conrad's absence hung heavily in the air, casting a shadow on our budding relationship.

Jeremiah took a deep breath, his eyes searching mine. "Belly, I've loved you for so long. More than just a friend. And seeing you with Conrad... it's been tearing me apart."

I gulped, my mind reeling. Conrad, the boy I had pined for, the one who held my heart captive, had always seemed unattainable. But Jeremiah was here now, pouring his heart out to me.

"I chose you, Belly," Jeremiah continued, his voice cracking with vulnerability. "I know I'm not Conrad, but I'm here. I'm always here."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized what I needed to do. Conrad may have been my first love, but Jeremiah had captured my heart in a way I never expected.

"I choose you too, Jeremiah," I whispered, my voice filled with determination. "I want to be with you."

In an instant, the world seemed to shift. Jeremiah's face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy. Without hesitation, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a sweet, tender kiss.

Time stood still as we lost ourselves in that perfect moment, our connection stronger than ever before. The crashing waves faded into the background, replaced by the symphony of our shared love.

As we pulled away, breathless and happy, I knew that this summer, this magical summer at Cousins Beach, was the beginning of something beautiful. And with Jeremiah by my side, I was finally ready to let go of my first love and embrace the enchantment of a new chapter in my heart.

#team jelly #belly and jeremiah #bellyjere #jelly #belly conklin #jeremiah and belly #belly x jeremiah #jeremiah fisher #the summer i turned pretty #jeremiah x belly #tsitp fanfic

[stuffedteen]

Nick & the Witch - pt.3

Nick sat at the sewing shop, his protruding belly straining against the confines of his tight pants. Luna, always mindful of his growing appetite, had brought him a generous feast for lunch—a spread of mouthwatering delights that would push his limits even further.

Luna approached Nick, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. "Hungry, big boy?" she purred, placing the tray of food in front of him. "I made something extra special for you today. Dig in."

Nick's gaze locked with Luna's, a hunger not just for food but for something more igniting within him. He felt the pressure building in his belly, yearning for release and satisfaction.

With an eager grin, Nick picked up a sandwich, its layers of succulent meat and creamy dressing tempting his taste buds. He took a large bite, savoring the explosion of flavors in his mouth. As he chewed, his eyes never left Luna's, the intensity of their connection fueling his desire.

Luna's voice dropped to a seductive whisper. "You know, Nick, I've noticed something about you. Your belly, it's growing bigger every day. Does it feel tight? Do you feel it straining against your clothes?"

Nick's chest rose and fell with each breath, his desire intertwining with the sensations coursing through his body. He looked down at his bulging belly, its girth pushing against the button and zipper of his pants. The strain on his belt was becoming unbearable.

A devilish smile played on Luna's lips as she leaned closer, her voice dripping with desire. "I want to see you let go, Nick. I want to witness the moment when your hunger and indulgence overpower the restraints holding you back. Will you let it happen?"

A mix of anticipation and a primal need coursed through Nick's veins. He reached down and tugged at his belt, loosening it ever so slightly. The relief was immediate, his belly finally allowed to expand freely.

But it wasn't enough.

Driven by a ravenous hunger and the desire to please Luna, Nick pushed his limits further. His hands trembled as he unbuckled his belt completely, the leather giving way to the pressure of his engorged belly. The button of his pants strained against the force, threatening to burst open at any moment.

A low growl escaped Nick's lips as he leaned back in his chair, his belly now unrestrained. He relished in the feeling of freedom, his fingers grazing the soft, round expanse of his bloated stomach.

Luna's eyes widened with delight, her voice thick with desire. "That's it, Nick. Embrace your true desires. Let your hunger consume you, just as I consume you with my gaze. You're a gluttonous, insatiable beast, and I want to witness every moment of it."

Nick's breathing grew heavy, his arousal intertwined with the sensations of his bulging belly. His mind swirled with the raw intensity of the moment, his desires laid bare for Luna to witness.

In that instant, with a sharp snap, the button on Nick's pants gave way, launching across the room. His waistband strained against the weight of his burgeoning gut, threatening to burst open at any moment.

"Fuck," Nick moaned, his voice a mixture of pleasure and satisfaction. "My belly... it's too much. I can't contain it."

Luna's eyes gleamed with delight as she leaned closer, her voice a sultry whisper. "Let it all out, Nick. Indulge in your cravings. There's no turning back now."

And with that permission, Nick's pants surrendered to the might of his growing belly, the fabric tearing apart as his waistband snapped open, giving his swollen midsection the freedom it craved. **buuurrrpp**

[xhanisai]

Relief

AO3

Pairing - Ladrien

Prompt - ‘Relief’

Summary -

"You knew...you knew all along, didn't you, Marinette?" He whispered into her hair, tears now rolling down his cheeks without restraint. "That's why you became so much more protective...that's why you took such a horrible hit from the Akuma just so I wouldn't get hurt..." He was practically trembling, sinking back down to his knees and bringing her with him.

Ladyhug remained silent, the way she grasped his shirt with a white-knuckled grip was more than an indication that he was on the right track. That she really was being too reckless and overprotective.

That she really is his Marinette.

"If you truly love me as I love you, don't make me see something like that again. Don't get hurt like that ever again. I beg you!"

~(x)~ . . . As soon as the cleansing light soothed away all of his Lady's injuries and lacerations, Chat Noir was finally able to breathe again, relief filling his body to the point where his knees unceremoniously buckled to the ground and his claws dug into the grass and soil. All he could hear was the harsh sound of blood rushing through his ears and his partner's sweet voice was severely muffled, clearly concerned for his wellbeing. On a usual day, he would have swallowed down his intense feelings and summoned a joke or two. Anything to wipe the fear and apprehension on her face. However, now he no longer had the energy to do so; especially with how much higher the stakes were after his many months and years of suspicions and hopes finally came to fruition regarding his Lady. Without wasting even another second, he dropped his transformation in an instant and immediately bolted over towards the heroine to envelope her tiny frame in his shaky arms. He tightened his grip when she gasped, inhaling her sweet, spiced vanilla scent and memorising the way her own frantic heart beat against her chest close to his. It was already unbearable enough to see his Lady in any pain be it mentally or physically. But now knowing that she was also one of his best friends? And that she was already so dear to him in every single way? And that he held precious, unadulterated feelings of love and adoration for her that could rival the ones he held for her masked self? It was agony! "Chat Noir! You shouldn't have done that..." Despite her scolding words, her tone was everything but so. Her arms naturally held onto him even closer, fingers carding through his hair in a manner that she knew was capable of making him melt like his heroic alter-ego's namesake. However, Adrien was much too troubled and heartbroken to pay mind to the sweet, blissful feelings. His entire being was still so shaken up from her injuries and pain despite it all being cleaned up and healed magically by her cleansing light. "You knew...you knew all along, didn't you, Marinette?" He whispered into her hair, tears now rolling down his cheeks without restraint. "That's why you became so much more protective...that's why you took such a horrible hit from the Akuma just so I wouldn't get hurt..." He was practically trembling, sinking back down to his knees and bringing her with him. Ladyhug remained silent, the way she grasped his shirt with a white-knuckled grip was more than an indication that he was on the right track. That she really was being too reckless and overprotective. That she really is his Marinette. "If you truly love me as I love you, don't make me see something like that again. Don't get hurt like that ever again. I beg you!" Adrien couldn't help the selfishness of his pleas, knowing that he was being absolutely greedy and illogical. After all, one of the main things that came along with protecting the city as a miraculous holder was the pain and suffering from fighting against the villains. In order for her to avoid getting hurt like that again, Ladybug would have to give up the mantle and pass it on to someone else. But she was much too selfless and kind to ever abandon the city. All his Lady did was cup his jaw just so he could face her, her smile just so loving and tender and her sky blue eyes filled with nothing but pure devotion as well as sombre. She rubbed comforting circles into his cheekbones, the tips of her red-clad fingers feathering the areas on his face that were usually hidden by his dark mask (as if she was rediscovering him all over again). "It's because I love you that I took the hit...just so I don't have to see you get hurt...again, mon Chaton." She placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and then leaned hers upon his. "I can't promise that I won't get hurt like that again...but I can promise to try. As long as you do the same. We both need each other, okay? There's no Ladybug without her Chat Noir after all." He couldn't help the watery smile that appeared on his lips, tears still running down his face freely. With a decisive nod, he crushed her body against his once more, smile widening as she detransformed within his arms. . . . ~(x)~

#my writing #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #ladrien #ml fanfics #ml fanfiction

[flametrashiraarchive]

Hello!

I’m currently working on a reader x Rengoku fanfic. It’s the first fanfic I’ve ever written. I’m excited and scared!

I know I’m so late to the party, but I hope people enjoy it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it.

I’m forcing myself to put at least a snippet here, and if all goes well, I’ll post it to Ao3

(Rengoku x AFAB reader, canon divergent (Akaza didn’t show up at the end of Mugen Train), fluff and smut)

***

Kyojuro is never quiet when coming home from missions.

In combat, the man moves with stealth and graceful speed which could put even the sneakiest alley cat to shame. But returning in the dim morning light, excited and elated simply to be back home, he bounds toward you with an apologetic grin.

“I’m back!” he declares, as though his footsteps didn’t just shake you from the bed.

But you can’t find it within yourself to be annoyed at him for waking you. Ever.

It doesn’t matter that it’s hours before you’re due to rise, or that he and his crow probably woke the whole damn village on their return. Before you know it, your smile is mirroring his, and you’re crushed to him, not knowing who closed the space between you first. You breathe in the scent of battle, dwindling smoke, and the comfort of him.

Your fingers press to his back, sliding up towards his shoulders, your heart squeezing with the relief that he’s home. He won the battle. He survived.

Strong, sturdy, and real beneath your hands. And yours, entirely.

You could cry; the lump in your throat is dangerously close to choking you, but tears would only make him worry. So you press your face to his chest, letting him hold you, rocking you from side to side as he rests his cheek on the top of your head.

You sigh, breathing him in. "Do you want to go and tell Senjuro and your father you're back? Senjuro was so worried."

"In a little while," he says, tightening his hold on you. "He usually wakes after sunrise."

You can't help but smile.

“How was it?” you ask, muffled in his embrace.

“Hm?”

You pull your face away to let your voice carry to him. “How was the mission? The demon on the train?”

“Ah. Good.” He smiles, raising a battle-hardened hand to gently stroke your cheek. The intensity in his fiery gaze softens as he acclimates to the safety of your shared home. “We prevailed. But it took too long.”

“Agreed. You were gone for two months.” You lean into his touch. And, knowing due to his hashira stamina, it’s likely untrue, you add, “You must be exhausted. We could go back to bed for a while?”

He chuckles softly, catching the meaning behind your seemingly innocent words. “I should clean up first. I’m sure I smell less than—”

His sentence dies against your lips as you pull him to you, unable to delay what you’ve been craving for months. And after a muffled gasp of surprise, he reciprocates the kiss.

Kyojuro kisses like he fights; with every damn fiber of his being, burning you up as he drives you backward, pressing you to the wooden frame of the door and pinning you to it with his body. At once, you’re lost to the world, and all that matters is his lips, his fingers tangled in your hair, and his muscled thigh pressing between yours. Your body reacts to him so quickly you become lightheaded; heat pooling everywhere he touches.

Yours. He’s yours. And he’s home.

A sigh escapes you as he takes your hand in his, and pins your wrist to the door frame above your head.

You could list a thousand reasons you love this man; one of them being the way he can snap in an instant from dazzling light and exuberant warmth, to an altogether more blistering, primal sort of flame. And you have always reveled in that blaze.

You slide down a couple of inches, pressing your core to the sturdy length of his thigh as you tug his lower lip between your teeth. A quiet groan escapes him, those gold and crimson eyes of his half-lidded as he drops his hand to the opening of your robe.

Kyojuro can (and has) spent all night undressing you and letting your excitement build before granting you release after release. And every time you’ve basked in that drawn out pleasure, trusting him entirely as you do, that the delay will be more than worth the reward, but not tonight. Not after two lonely months of nothing but your hands on your cunt, and gasping his name into the pillow.

To be continued...

#rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku #rengoku kyōjurō #fanfic #this is so scary #kimetsu rengoku

[eggyboyoart]

CW: religious commentary, Izuku crying, vaguely yandere?? Being so in love with someone you view them as beyond you?? Lack of intro, Lack of proper context, not edited, I wrote this in like 10 minutes, give me validation, you and Izuku are in that weird phase where you aren't lovers but you are so fucking in love, god just kiss already-

WC: approx. 700, second person

Summary: You've been kidnapped by villains for a week. This is how you and Izuku's reunion went.

"-And no one knew where you were, and we were all so worried-! I was so worried-! Not because I doubt you or anything! I was just worried because you're one of my closest friends-" Izuku began to babble senselessly, not that he really cared at the time. He seemed so relieved to see you, but yet was still so worried. You sweat dropped and put your hands up to try and calm him, to assure him that everything was okay now.

"-Izuku, hey-". Your calm voice gets abruptly cut off as Izuku continues blabbering, running around and around in metaphoric circles. His hands flick and twitch in the air in front of him, a visual depiction of his worry. Worry for you. Glistening tears gleam at the edges of his waterline, the frantic movements of his head threatening to send them streaming down his face. Your eyes softened as his babbling became muted. Muted by the thoughts of the beautiful human standing before you. How such a man could be brought to tears at the mere thought of you being in peril was beyond you. Your adoring gaze went unnoticed as said man kept rambling, mouth moving faster than his mind.

"-and I don't think I could live with myself if you got hurt and I just care about you so much and I was so scared-!". As lovely and warm as his concern is, this needs to stop. The sweet words and pure relief has to end now, lest your heart rip itself out of your chest and urge you to do something stupid. Like grab onto the hair at the back of his head and drag him into a kiss. Not that it'd be effective. No mere kiss could possibly convey the sterling affection that swells underneath your chest. Much more intense activities would be needed for that. You bring your hands up and cup his cheeks (Oh! Such soft cheeks) and exclaim loudly.

"Izuku!" The loud shout of his name has him quieted in an instant. A short gasp breathes out from his lips and his own hard-working hands fly up to hold onto yours. They grip you with such assurance, yet are so so very gentle. In the back of your mind, you briefly recognise that his hands are shaking where they hold onto you. The bend in your brow dies down as his gleaming eyes widen and hyperfixate on you you you. The sudden closeness, the softness of his face underneath your calloused hands. You're not particularly religious but lord have mercy on your wretched soul, you are not worthy of such an angel. Sinful thoughts aside, you stare intensely into those beautiful, wide eyes and begin to comfort the trembling man.

"its okay! I'm here now. Its okay- I'm okay. There's no need to be worried anymore. I'm here, Izuku. I'm home" Your hand which holds his cheek with such delicacy glides upwards to push his hair back away from where its fallen in front of his eyes. Your fingers linger on his head before coming back down in a graceful arc to grip his cheeks tighter, though never painful. God no, never painful. You would rather die than hurt your precious angel, your lovely Izuku.

He lets out a gentle huff as he gapes wide-eyed at you. His mouth moves to speak, however, nothing but a pitiful croak leaves his throat. Your own eyes widen as the first of many tears glides down his cheek. A flare of panic streaks through you and your shoulders tense up to your ears. no no no, my lovely, please don't cry you wail internally. Your hands lift off of his face with the intention of wiping his eyes of the salty tears. However, his own hands hold onto you tighter, not letting you move away. A quiet sniffle has you focusing on him, rather than his tears. A wet laugh bubbled out from his chest and relieved grin splits across his face as he pressed your hands closer, eyes shining as more and more tears begin to fall.

"...I-... I care about you so much... -and I'm so glad that you're okay!"

#midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya #midoriya #izuku #izuku x reader #midoriya x reade #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #izuku is my baby #I would die kill maim for him #eggy writes*~

[cosmicjoke]

Ah, okay, the whole scene with Louis refusing to help Lestat was maybe the most upsetting part of “TotBT” so far, and that’s saying a lot.  Damn, this whole scene shook me up.  Because of course from Louis’ perspective, he’s helping Lestat, he’s doing the right thing, giving him a chance at redemption, something Louis himself has always longed for.  But from Lestat’s perspective, Louis is literally condemning him to death, and he feels understandably horrified and betrayed.  Talk about intense and heartbreaking.  You can see how this fundamental difference in their perspectives and approach to life lead to them having so many fights back when they lived together.  It just about had me in tears, when Lestat starts begging Louis, when he puts his arms around him, begging him to take him and drink his blood, and Louis pushes him away and tells Lestat not to come at him again or he’ll hurt him.  I just can’t, man.  And then Lestat’s manic episode, after Louis leaves him, the way he burns down his shack, but is in tears and on his knees in the rain at the same time, feeling maybe more alone than ever before.  Marius coming and just staring at him in judgement is like the final blow.  It’s so, so sad.  And while, yes, Lestat got himself into this position, you still have to feel so much for him.  He’s so scared, and feeling so hopeless, and without a single friend to turn to.  Louis’ refusal to help him was a serious gut punch, unintentionally cruel, but maybe more cruel for that lack of intention.  Lestat’s begging has no effect, his misery has no effect.  Louis’s letting his own misery and desires blind him to the suffering of someone he loves.  It’s such a tragic situation.

It’s a huge, huge relief when he finds David and, at last, a friend who’s willing to help him.  Lestat’s relief in not being alone is so palpable, and really, that’s where the emotion and the heartbreak of this situation comes from.  This line:

“Our embrace was long and warm and silent, and I fought furiously not to give way to tears.  Only very seldom in all this time had I ever actually touched this being.  And the moment was charged with an emotion which caught me somewhat off guard.  The drowsy warmth of my embraces with Gretchen came back to me.  I felt safe.  And just for an instant, perhaps, I did not feel so utterly alone.”

Lestat’s fear of being alone, his fear of abandonment, his fear of rejection.  He’s so afraid of having to face the judgement of the other vampires, because he doesn’t want to see their hatred, or their disappointment in him.  He doesn’t want, again, to be reminded of how unwanted he is.  So seeing David there for him is just...  Fuuuck.  I just can’t. 

And it kind of kills me the way Lestat’s anger towards Louis and Marius burns itself out so quickly, because that’s just like Lestat, after all.  He can never hold onto a grudge.   He can never, truly hate anyone, except, it seems, himself.  

When he’s talking to David about Reglan James, he says

“He likes to break glass, doesn’t he?  He likes to surprise his victims.  He must enjoy their fear.  He leaves no witnesses.  He steals everything of obvious value.  And none of it is very valuable at all.  How I hate him.  And yet... I have done things as terrible myself.”

Lestat tells Gretchen earlier that he doesn’t hate himself, but he does.  He’s comparing himself to Reglan James here, and seeing himself reflected in this awful man, and as he says he hates him, he’s also saying he hates himself.  He tells David, after David points out to Lestat that he’s in a wonderful, beautiful and young body, and should appreciate it,

“All right.  All right.  It’s jolly.  So happy to be alive!  I whispered, because if I hadn’t whispered, I would have howled.  “And I could be smashed by a truck outside in the street at half past noon today!  Good God, David, don’t you think I despise myself that I cannot endure these simple trials?  I hate it.  I hate being this weak and cowardly creature!

... I loath cowardice.”

It’s heartbreaking to see Lestat so low on himself, and to know the ways in which he’s been manipulated into thinking he’s like Reglan James, because he’s really not.  Reglan James is going around murdering droves of people, and then robbing them of every possession they own practically, and the overwhelming impression it gives is a lack of respect for life, a lack of respect for the lives he’s impacting.  And that’s perfectly the opposite of Lestat.  Above everything, Lestat respects life.  He understands the value in life.  This part, after Lestat realizes how attracted to David he is, really demonstrates that respect and value for human life, I think, perfectly:

“Indeed so strong was this awareness- of being human and being with a human- that I feared it suddenly in all its beauty.  And I saw that the fear was part of the beauty.”

Lestat feels a connection with David in that moment, as he’d felt it with Gretchen, and the people on the capital, and even with the poor woman from the cafe, and he sees the beauty in that connection, and in the fear of what it is to be mortal.  He respects the tenuousness of life, and thus, its preciousness.  He hates Reglan James because he sees his lack of respect for life in the way he’s brutalizing his victims, the way he smashes their homes apart and kills them not even for their blood, but just to kill, to destroy.  But because of how he’s been manipulated by this fucker, he mistakes that cruel disregard as his own.  He’s down on himself for his fear of dying, for being afraid, but it just shows he isn’t apathetic to the suffering of others, yet tragically interprets it as some sort of weakness, some sort of failing on his part. 

Ah, well, it really is a relief that David is there for Lestat.  His understanding and acceptance of him here, in his lowest and worst moment, after Louis’s refusal and Marius’ judgment, is a beautiful thing.  The hug they shared upon their reunion just about had me in tears.

Finally, I think these lines from Lestat, first, after Marius has walked away from him without offering aid, and then later, when he and David are talking about the possibility that Marius or one of the other ancients has destroyed his body, really says it all about what makes Lestat such an endearing and, in his own way, heroic figure:

“You think I’m defeated,” I whispered.  What need was there to shout for him?  “You think you’ve passed your judgment, and that’s the end of it.  Oh, you think it is as simple as that.  Well you are wrong.  I shall never have vengeance for this moment.  But you will see me again.  You will see me again.”

“To tell the truth, what else can I do but believe that my body is still there to be reclaimed?”  I shrugged.  “I don’t know how to give up.”

#Lestat De Lioncourt #The Tale of the Body Theif #the vampire chronicles

[jgroffdaily]

Excerpts from an interview with Ben Aldridge at the Hollywood Reporter, including reference for the first time to Jonathan taking Ben and Abby Quinn to his father's farm in Lancaster for a weekend during filming.

Decades from now, when you’re reminiscing next to a crackling fireplace, what day from your Knock experience will you likely recall first? 

You’re making me emotional.

Your co-star Abby Quinn said the same thing. 

(Laughs.) There were so many beautiful days and difficult days. 

Abby’s answer involved a trip with you and Jonathan to his Pennsylvania hometown.

Yeah, mine would be the same highlight. We went and stayed on Jonathan’s dad’s farm. It was midway through the intense shoot, and we had this beautiful weekend away, riding horses and just escaping the cabin for a little bit.

(Photos posted by Abby: @abbyquinnya)

On rehearsals

"But yes, those two weeks [of rehearsals] were totally key. Jonathan and I had an instant rapport, and Kristen is just this magical little human..."

Night’s notes can be pretty unconventional at times. For instance, he famously told Anya Taylor-Joy to cry her character’s tears instead of her own, and it changed her whole perspective on acting. Did a particular note of his stick with you as well?

He gave that note to me once, actually. I heard him give it to Jonathan and perhaps Nikki [Amuka-Bird] as well. It’s a really interesting note, and it’s very impactful. What he kept on repeating to me and Jonathan — and probably even more to me — was “play the love.” ... It just really hammered home an emotional call for both me and Jonathan, and before a take, I’d look at him and Kristen and think, “I love you.” And that really infused into the scenes.

Night would say to Kristen a lot, “Just think the thoughts,” and he meant the thoughts of the character. He was coaching her so much, and for Jonathan and I, it was kind of like learning to act again. We were like, “We should heed some of this advice.” As an actor, you can take shortcuts sometimes, but Night doesn’t really allow for that. He sees everything, and he really wants you to be connected to the moment and the character. I’m someone who uses music to prepare quite often, and I really had it in my head that I would be using music on the side of this set to get to that level of stuff all the time. So I made this playlist called “Anxiety Inducing Music.” It was weird stuff, but it also had some intense classical music. 

So I was listening to some music on the side of the set, just after the fight with Rupert [Grint], and Night quietly came up to me and said, “I understand why you’d want to use music right now, but I really just want you to use the script. Use Andrew to get you there.” He was like, “Relying on other people’s art to inform your own art isn’t always the way forward,” and that’s the first time I’ve ever heard that.

Night's approach

“Of anything I’ve ever watched with me, it’s the most I’ve been like, ‘Oh my God, the director has made me look like a movie star,’” Aldridge tells The Hollywood Reporter. “So that was a very exciting thing. Everything he does is with purpose and thought behind it.”

#jonathan groff #ben aldridge #abby quinn #knock at the cabin #knock at the cabin promo #lancaster

[lilflowerpot]

Hey since you have Covid I have something weird that might help! So my parents are south Asian and when they get a cold they mix a spoonful of ghee or butter into a hot drink and chug it back. I always thought this was gross and pseudoscientific so I ignored it my whole life. I got Covid in august and the cough was truly awful for me, like my body was sore from how hard and much I was coughing. After weeks I still had the cough and noticed my mouth tasted like metal (doc said my throat/lungs were so inflamed that I was coughing up small amounts of blood). I tried the butter in a hot drink thing and INSTANT relief. It’s not a cure at all but since the fat temporarily coats your throat you cough less for a period of time and that allows a bit of healing and it feels so much better. If you try it I suggest keep mixing it until it’s the temp you can drink and mix it well before you chug. The fat otherwise floats at the top and it’s not appetizing, it’s not the best tasting but the relief was so intense for me I nearly teared up. Thought I’d share, and hope you feel better!!!!❤️

I did in fact see this at the time you sent it and it was very thoughtful of you!! Unfortunately I have a real issue with certain food textures (particularly thick liquids through to anything with the consistency of mashed potato) and I can 100% guarantee this would have made me vomit—but I do sincerely appreciate the suggestion sweetheart ♡

#i am that bitch who struggles to take the //tiniest// of tablets even if they're like.... quartered #it's at least 50% psychological but I have to grab my own jaw like a damn dog it's honestly pathetic #maybe this can help someone else though? #sa screams back #the author speaks