#him with his head up high like this is getting rarer

[lizardlink]

The most majestic dragon!

[hihhasotherfixations]

Wedded - Dragon! John Price x Reader | Chapter 1

When you are mistaken by a dragon as his promised bride, you unexpectedly need to learn how to live with your new husband. After all, the dragon made a deal, and he wants his end of the bargain - you.

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The results of the poll were clear. Dragon Price is first to come up and be written. This was also the only option who’s fic had multiple chapters sooo, woop woop! Hope you all enjoy :3

CW: f!reader, dragon Price, violence in future chapters

Word Count: 3028

Walking into the town, your eyes curiously looked around, an excitement blooming inside you – one you always found yourself in any time you got to a new part of the land, finding cities and villages you never knew existed.

This time, you’d made it to a village just south of the roaring mountains. A range that spanned the border of the land near the east. It was a relatively small village, and as you walked through to the marketplace, you immediately became aware of how close-knit the community was, as everyone seemed to know everyone.

Making you stick out like a sore thumb.

Still, your travels hadn’t gotten you this far if that was something that scared you off. And without further thought, you stepped up to one of the market brokers. The man was a botanist, obviously, selling herbs and wildflowers, your keen eyes curiously scanning around.

“Hello, madam!” The vendor perked up, giving you a once over, noting the large bag slung over your shoulder, as well as the leather-wrapped stick you were leaning on. “New to town?”

“Good morning.” You smiled politely. “Yes I am. It’s very nice.” You said, though as you looked around, it was evident that a scuffle had recently taken place. Broken wood and scorch marks riddling the buildings around.

“Can I help you find anything?” He asked, that typical salesman smile on his face.

Giving a small smile back, you shook your head. “No, I’m just looking for now.” You declined.

As you perused, you recognised most of the man’s wares. Within your own bag that was currently slung over your shoulder, you kept several exact specimens like the ones laid out before you.

After all, you’d been collecting them.

For the last three years, you’d been scouring the land, finding and testing herbs and wildflowers for their potencies and effects. What was once a hobby had become your life, with you abandoning your old one in the process. Yet not a day passed where you regretted your newfound freedom.

“Say, you seem very knowledgeable in this.” The vendor suddenly spoke up and you glanced at him, tilting your head in curiosity. Seeing that, the man explained. “Your eyes zero in on the rarer plants and skip over the common ones. Not many know them like I do.” He complimented.

“Oh, yes.” You smile. “I’m… well, a researcher. I’m writing a field guide on the plants of this continent and their effects.” You said, slight pride in your voice. Though it wasn’t a secret per se, saying it out loud was not something you often did. But giving the man’s profession, you figured it was worth a shot. “I’m looking for some rarer plants and I must ask, what is this one?” You questioned, pointing at a flower to the right. It had white, pointed petals that slowly turned blue the closer it got to the core, yellow spore marking the centre while the stem and leaves itself were green. Nothing like you’d ever seen before.

“That? Oh, that is a mountainscale lily.” He smiled, picking up the dried specimen. “Very rare. Found only in caves high up in the mountains.” As he said that, he turned and pointed to the looming mountain behind the village.

“I’ve never seen them before.” You mused, leaning in to get a better look.

“They’re native to this region. Only grow under very specific circumstances.” He explained and you nodded, curious.

“Is this in a place I could reach?” You questioned, making the vendor frown.

“I would not advise-“ “Ah! Hold on!” A woman suddenly interrupted, sliding in beside the merchant, her hand on his arm. The man looked a little startled, glancing at her in confusion, to which the woman nudged her head in your direction with an easy smile. “Look at the lady, she’s well equipped! Don’t be underestimating her now.” She teased, bumping her hip into his before squeezing his arm to get his attention and sending him a pointed stare, one you felt you shouldn’t be witnessing. At it, the man glanced from her to you – who was standing there confused – before grunting as he looked away from you, muttering under his breath.

Confused, you turned to the woman who turned to face you while smiling wide.

“Sorry about that. I couldn’t help but overhear.”

“That’s… okay.” You hummed, shifting your hiking stick to your other hand, a little put off by her sudden appearance. “So, am I correct in saying you think I could get to where the flowers grow?” You questioned, the woman seeming to light up.

“I am positive! In fact, I would like to ask to make a deal with you. Hire you, if you will.”

That was both intriguing and concerning at the same time. Anyone could take one glance at you and see you weren’t exactly a mercenary for hire.

“Darla, no-“ The man started, placing his hand on her shoulder, but the woman just shrugged it off.

“Hush now, I’m sure it will be no problem.” She smiled, keeping her eyes on you, to which the man grabbed her elbow, forcefully turning her to face him.

“Don’t. This is our problem. We must bear the consequences.” He said pointedly, but Darla scoffed and yanked her arm free.

“We have a perfectly capable young woman here.” She spoke, glaring at him.

“I’m sorry, what’s going on?” You asked, confused and before the man could say anything, Darla stepped in.

“These flowers. They have a healing capability. About a month ago, our village was raided and our supply stolen.” She spoke, a resentment sounding in her voice. “It was supposed to last us through the winter but now new flowers need to be plucked. The problem is that gathering them requires skill and knowledge. No one but my husband can do it, but he injured his leg during the raid and hasn’t been able to make the trip.” She said while gesturing to him.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear.” You frowned in sympathy, looking at the vendor who had a defeated look, sitting down on his stool behind his stall. When looking around at the village, the evidence of a scuffle was clear. And not a small one. Not only were there the ruins and scorch marks around you, some houses were even burned down on the outskirts – which you’d seen when coming into town.

“Listen.” The man spoke up, catching your attention again. “The mountains aren’t easy to traverse, especially with an injury. It’s not a safe road. Think about this.” He warned, looking at his plants, avoiding your eyes.

Your brows creased together in thought as you then looked at the woman. “So… what is it you want?”

Darla perked up, her eyes landing on you before turning pleading as she walked around the stall, grasping your hands and holding them up between you and her. “We will tell you how to find the flowers. And in return, I beg you to retrieve a satchel full of them for our village. We cannot survive winter without them.”

Blinking in surprise, you looked from her, down to the pressed flower laying on the wood of the stall. You’d never heard of a flower which had capabilities such as that. 

“I-“ You glanced up at her again. Her hand was holding yours tightly.

“You can take this one for free.” She then quickly spoke, grabbing the pressed flower and pushing it into your hand.

Frowning, you looked down at it, briefly studying the colours and make before sighing, looking at the vendor again, who was still looking down. While the thought of a flower having such potent capabilities was hard to believe - not without it having some sort of addicting feature – the opportunity to study it was too good to pass up. “Okay.”

At your simple word, Darla lit up, grinning wide, though it was almost scary as she then turned to her husband and hugged him. “We’re going to be alright!” Before you could say anything, she moved back over to you, gripping your shoulders. “You will save every young maiden in our village from a terrible and ill fate.”

Letting out a bit of a confused chuckle, you leaned back a bit. “Why, does the flower not affect men?”

At that, Darla cackled a laugh – a surprisingly pleasant sound.

“Come, let me give you a map and explain how to get there.” She smiled, placing her hand on your backpack, gently pushing you with her, leading you across the market.

And in the haste of her offering you a place to stay at her impressively lavish two-story house, food, a map into the mountains and all the instructions that came with it, you failed to realise that the herbal vendor never came to the house, nor that neither him or Darla wore wedding rings.

- - - -

Leaning on your stick, you paused at the edge of the trail, huffing and puffing.

Since the early hours of dawn you’d been walking, resting periodically to make sure you’d be fit to continue.

According to Darla, the hike to the nearest cave containing the wildflowers was ten hours – on top of the hour you’d already travelled by horse together with the woman.

She had been incredibly helpful, sticking close to you and repeatedly thanking you for being willing to do this. Hell, it almost felt like she was glued to your hip until the moment you reached the foot of the mountain, where she was all too eager to send you off on your way, taking the horses back home.

Not that you blamed her.

Walking over to the rocky face of the mountain, you leaned against it, staying away from the trail’s edge, not to keen to fall down it. Shifting down to sit, you pulled your backpack off your back, digging in to get your journal where you flicked to the most recent entry.

Opening the page, you carefully picked up the pressed mountainscale lily, turning it in your hand. Before parting ways with Darla, you’d asked her many questions about the flower’s properties. She’d seemed a little flustered, almost unwilling to talk about it.

Glancing down at your notes, you pulled out the charcoal pencil from the spine of your journal, drawing a line down from the drawing you made of the flower.

Hunching forward, you scribbled a single word before a loud thud suddenly echoed through the forest down below, making you snap your head up, looking over the sea of orange-leafed trees before you. Far in the distance, birds rose to the air, making you hum curiously.

Glancing back down at the journal, you placed the flower back between the pages before closing the book, getting back to your feet again, ready to pass the next few hours mulling over your new hypothesis, that one word echoing in your mind.

‘Addictive?’

- - - -

Pulling your coat tightly around yourself, you shivered, tying the strings directly under your chin. Even with the sun shining fully in the sky, the air was frigid – a cause of both the height you were walking at, as well as the nearing of winter.

You’d long since pulled out your woollen hat, keeping yourself as warm as possible, your hands feeling like ice.

Holding your map tight, your eyes glanced from the parchment and up the trail you were currently on. It was small, a goat’s path more than anything and one misstep would result in you plummeting down onto rocks far below.

Yet as you looked right, you couldn’t help but be in absolute awe by the view.

As far as your eyes could see, the forest stretched. Along the way, a wide river shimmered in the slowly setting sun, everything bathed in a gorgeous light, enhancing the golden leaves of the autumn trees. If you weren’t at threat of losing the light, you’d have sat down to draw it.

Looking back at the map, you breathed out, exhausted. Your feet hurt, every step making you question whether or not this was worth all the hassle. Yet as you grasped onto the brittle rock on your left and rounded the bend, you saw it.

A large opening sat in the side of the mountain, a plateau in front of it providing plenty of space. The cave opening alone must have been the size of nearly two houses beside each other.

And about ten meters in front of you, you saw it.

A mountainscale lily gently flowed back and forth in the breeze, the petals gently moving.

Firmly pushing off your stick, you began walking towards it, crouching beside the flower.

It was small, incomplete and evidently not growing in ideal circumstances, too exposed to the wind.

Leaving it where it was, you kept going. The cave sat about thirty meters ahead and your heart began thudding in excitement.

Every herb and wildflower you’d documented so far was one you either already knew, or had vaguely heard of. All of them were known, most likely researched, used in experiments until every purpose was exploited. But this one? You’d never heard of a flower like this. And the thought of you being the first to properly document it? It filled you with an eager excitement.

Reaching the cave, instantly you saw the lily’s on the edges of the opening, blooming in the dirt-like ground that littered the plateau you were standing on, the forest behind you and far below.

Taking off your backpack, you moved over the left, crouching by a cluster of the flowers. Digging into your pack, you pulled out your journal and knife, carefully starting to prod at and study the flower, carelessly scribbling anything of note down.

Your mind was only focused on a single thing, yet as you inspected the flower, you noted that even in its alive state, the colours were less bright than the pressed flower the vendor had given you. Even these flowers weren’t sufficiently growing.

“Is it the cave?” You mumbled to yourself, setting your items down and getting to your feet.

Slowly, you started to walk in through the massive opening, your body casting a tiny shadow in the large circle of light.

For a minute or so, you moved. Yet the further you went, the more you walked, a dread slowly started to settle in the pit of your stomach.

Something felt off.

Stalactites hung from the ceiling, ominous and casting shadows onto the top of the cavern.

The light from the entrance was pale, limited. And as you walked forward, you slowly got to the cap of it. Daylight reached into the cave in almost a halo. A safe circle of pale light, ending where you stood now, right at your feet.

Normally, you didn’t feel like this. Normally, you’d step into the shaded part of a cavern without trouble but in this moment? You couldn’t.

There was something about this place that wasn’t right. Unnatural.

…Warm.

The cave was warm.

It was subtle, not immediately noticeable until you focused on it, but still your eyes widened in realisation of that fact. Despite climbing high up, damn near into the mountains to get here. There was no frigid cold. The difference from the moderately chilly air outside and in here was noticeable. And it definitely didn’t come from the watery sun outside.

A breeze suddenly picked up, a gust of wind so fast you had to snap your hand up to hold onto your hat, your eyes closing on instinct as your clothes billowed and ruffled.

Clutching the strap of your bag with one hand and your hat with the other, you dared to peek an eye open. Yet as you did, your heart sunk, watching as the sun that had been shining on your back was blocked, a shadow sliding in and covering your body.

The gust of wind passed, your heartbeat thudding harshly in your chest as you could hear every breath you took, your eyes wide as you stared at the unnatural shadow currently cast over you. A shadow that shouldn’t be there. A shadow that wasn’t a second ago.

Slowly, as if a thousand weights hung on you, you turned your head around. And the clench of your jaw slackened as a terror fell over you.

Sitting there, sprawled  across the opening of the cave, hung a dragon.

With scales a deep green, its eyes were fixed on you, unblinking while it sat. Hanging on the rock, its massive form blocked out the sunlight, small slivers only escaping near the corners of the scaly creature, the light almost casting it in a halo. Or hellfire.

You’d never seen a dragon before, only heard stories of knights or travellers, regaling the terror and power they could wreak.

You didn’t dare blink or move, just stuck in a staring contest until for the first time, it made a noise as a billow of smoke escaped its maw, a rumble echoing through the cave as it shifted, muscle rippling and scales glistening in the light.

With a deliberate and slow movement, it flexed the joints of its wings, stretching them slightly and blocking out even that last bit of sunlight that was on your body, fully encasing you in its mighty shadow.

With barely anything else to do, you turned your body around to face it like your head was, and as if on cue, that made it move.

Slinking down from the large cave entrance, the dragon landed on the rocky ground, front paws thudding down before the rest of the body followed, moving towards you.

Terrified, you stumbled back, wanting to run, though your heel hooked behind the uneven ground of the cave, making you fall onto your back harshly.

With the wind knocked out of you, you’d barely opened your eyes before you found the dragon’s maw hanging right above you, an amusement dancing in the crinkle of its eyes.

“Please-“ You whispered, only for the dragon to not hear as it instead spoke.

“Finally made the decision to show up, did we? You’re four hours late.”

-

I’ll try to get the next chapter out as soon as I can! Please let me know what you thought and if there is interest for a tag list for future chappies ❤️

[tavshortfortavern]

Imagine: Tav is about to face a near cerntain death battle. There's a high chance they're not coming back from this even with their allies present. Before they run into the fray with their companions, they keep turning back to the person they have feelings for but never showed it for reasons and just decides to go "fuck it" and pulls them in for a kiss. After they pull away they don't wait for the other party to get a word in before running off. Now with less regrets incase they don't make it.

Zevlor

At first regretted they couldn't head in with you but knows you and your companions are the only ones capable of defeating the incoming threat

Is there to wish you luck and give a few words if encouragement but he's internally scared and worried you'll never come back

But then you keep looking back at him and it looks like you desperately want to say something

"Is something wrong? Do you need-" you curse and apologise in the same breath before there's a hand on his cheek and soft lips on his own

Mentally blanks before settling into the kiss. He's in shock but his shoulders relax like usual whenever Tav is speaking to them. He's chasing your lips the moment you pull away but all you mutter is "I'm sorry but gods I've been wanting to do that."

You leave quickly. He's calling your name but you're gone by then to fight the unthinkable

You've effectively left a mess of him. Now he's not just worried for your safety, his mind is spiralling with all different thoughts. It feels like it came out of nowhere. Were his brief looks and feelings actually returned?

What do you mean you've wanted to do that? How long? Was he even worthy of a kiss? What did you see in him? Questions, questions and no answers to them.

If he wanted you to come back before he's absolutely praying for your victory. He needs to see you again but also terrified. He has no idea what he's going to say.

Almost follows after you then but either more people need protecting on his side or he knows he'll get in the way and make things worse.

Just please come back.

Rolan

Picture this, he's there with a rare expression of worry and even rarer words of encouragement. Hes not usually like this with most people.

Their local hero off to save the day again. But even he's worried. This looks serious. Something even out of your league. As you both stare at the battle ahead your suddenly turn to him with an odd expression.

Your eyes dart back and forth between him and the way forward. Of course he's running his mouth asking why you looked like that until it's eventually shut by you grabbing his collar.

He's baffled as you kiss him before pulling away with your typical annoying smile that not just infuriates him but does something else to him he can't pinpoint.

"You're cute when you're flustered." was the explanation before bounding off as if you weren't about to possibly die.

You've left him speechless, staring at your retrating form with a massive blush on his face. Its interrupted by the sound of cheering in the back. His siblings were passing around some money having placed bets.

"Why are you so surprised? They've been flirting with you since they got to the city." "They have not!" "They literally told us they thought you were cute after helping again." "They WHAT"

You were more obvious when it came to flirting with him. Everyone saw when you eagerly walked up to him at Sorcerous Sundries. When you paused noticing that state he was in. When you touched his bruised cheek and asked in a controlled tone "Who did this." That same day his abusive mentor was brutally murdered.

He's grappling with the revelation that you were interested the whole time and his siblings teasing him for being so oblivious

There's definitely an incoming rant in your future if you do survive. But he'll be lost in thought the whole time. Mind returning back to that moment you kissed him, how you look, how it felt. Before violently snapping out of it.

Dammon

Is there to see you off with a new weapon or armor to help you in the fight ahead. He's got full faith in you and your companions. You've done so much already.

You stand there, gripping the gifted item with conflicted thoughts. You've liked him for a while now, perhaps even more but kept quiet for mutliple reasons. In different circumstances you would never entertain just kissing him without permission. But there was a high chance this would be your end this time. And this thought won't leave you. Did you want to leave with regrets?

Your reckless nature and selfishness is at war with your manners (and possibly noble upbringing if thats what you chose) who will win: the free spirited adventurer or the honorable hero?

Time is ticking and there are precious few seconds before danger comes. Adrenaline kicks in and the literal fear of death pushes you to pull him in for a kiss guiltily.

Its desperate and doesn't last for more than a couple of seconds. The typical the world is ending and i might die soon type of kiss. Dammon is frozen, not expecting this. Your not surprised to feel warmth. Besides your self conscious and sense of propriety screaming at you, another voice in your head cheers

"sorry. I've always wanted to- uh a kiss for goodluck?" you pulled away and stammered out. He looked at a loss and adorable with a bronze blush. Equal parts of shame and urgency to face the fight has you running away as fast as your legs could carry you.

You couldn't help the adrenaline high as you ran ahead. No regrets would plague you this time. Going out with a kiss was one of the better ways to go right?

While you were focused on other matters, Dammon was left holding his mouth and staring at your retreated form. Face warm for a long while. He'll have to be there thinking on your actions and words.

You've always wanted to? Was it really just a spur in the moment or something more. Now you had to come back, if just to resolve this plaguing his mind. Its a harder time focusing on whatever work he had.

It seems like he spends a lot of time in thought. He'll be over analysing all your interactions. Wondering what he missed. Did he want something with you? Has to put down his tools to think about it. He'll be so awkward next time you meet, flushed but wanting to talk.

[seonghwaddict]

★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 004 ] rotten lemons.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of... interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. blood drinking. word count. 1.7k

　　　　　　　　chapter iii // chapter iv // chapter v

Seonghwa, Yunho and Wooyoung returned to the house at around four in the morning, each carrying two crates. As soon as they stepped through the door, they were greeted by Hongjoong as he made his way down the stairs, blue tufts of hair bouncing on his head.

“How’d it go?” He asked over his shoulder as they followed him into the kitchen and dropped her crates on the countertop.

Seonghwa shrugged and opened the first crate as Wooyoung and Yunho moved to the living room. “The usual. The prices went up though, 300 thousand per five bags.”

With an understanding nod, Hongjoong took a seat on one of the island stools. He reached for a different crate and pulled it towards him, looking through it before pulling out a translucent white bag, a thick red liquid swishing around inside. After taking a look at the label, he snapped his fingers. A thin wine glass appeared on the counter and it didn’t take him too long to open the bag and pour its contents in the cup.

“Did you get some O neg for San? He said he’s running out,” he asked after taking a refreshing sip.

“Yeah, probably enough to keep him satisfied for a few months.”

While they were quite open to drinking any type of blood, they had preferences. Some of them preferred sweeter tastes (usually O or B-type blood as they taste somewhat like the sweetness you’d get from honey) and others preferred more sour tastes (such as A-type blood, a taste that resembled the slight sourness you’d get from a cherry). However, with San, he’d always been in a bit of a tricky situation…

O-type blood, specifically of the negative sort, is considered one of the rarer types of blood. The demand for it can get pretty high, which in turn also makes prices hike up quite a bit. Typically blood vendors wouldn’t have a lot of O-negative stocked which can sometimes be a bit concerning. Especially because that’s the only blood type that San’s body can process.

But, fortunately, they didn’t have to worry about that too much since their go-to vendor always had some of that prestigious type.

Around the country, there were different vendors for blood bags—blood-banks. Unfortunately, the closest one to their house was a 2-hour drive, so it was inconvenient to constantly go and come back with the bare minimum amount they would need for a week. Usually, the bags get stocked and sold to vampires and after a month, anything that wasn’t sold would be donated to local hospitals on behalf of a ‘private blood donation organisation.’

Of course, many vampires preferred to get blood directly from the source (A.K.A. suck it out of people’s necks themselves), since it had a sweeter, fresher taste. But, alas, this was also too inconvenient for the boys living in this lavish mansion. They’d have to consider too many things before sucking the blood directly from a human, so they opted for just buying it in bags.

“That’s more than enough I think.” Hongjoong swirled the blood in the glass one more time before downing the rest of it and wiping the excess on his chin with the back of his hand. “Thank you.”

Once Seonghwa finished moving all the blood bags to the fridge, the two men moved to the living room and joined the rest of their cluster mates. San, Mingi and Yeosang were playing some video game on the TV; Jongho sat in an armchair and read a book, occasionally glancing to see how the game was going; Wooyoung sat on the ground with his head in San’s lap and Yunho sat cross-legged on the couch, narrating the game like a football narrator.

“Yeosangie, did Y/N get home safe?” Wooyoung asked as the round ended and Yeosang passed his controller to Yunho. A fond smile stretched itself onto the blond’s face as he nodded gently, thinking back to the way you had slept so peacefully in his car, light snores filling the silence of the vehicle.

“Who’s Y/N?” San asked, tilting his head down to look at Wooyoung.

“She’s an art student. We were each paired with one to work on a project. She actually came over here a few hours ago so we could start working a bit,” he explained. “I like her, she’s very pretty. A bit stubborn though, I almost had to fight her because we couldn’t agree on something. But I don’t think she’s very fond of me.” He concluded with a pout.

“Jongho also met her before, more or less,” Yeosang added, looking at the youngest as he shifted in his chair, “she works at that bookstore that you go to sometimes.”

The theatre student in question looked up, blinking at the ceiling and tilting his head as he tried to remember. He grimaced “The one that smells like a rotten lemon?”

“No,” Yeosang was quick to deny, not wanting any of the men that hadn’t met her to get the wrong impression. “The one that smells delicious.”

They talked about you for another ten minutes, Wooyoung recounting his experience working with you and Yeosang explained how you two had met. His brothers poked some fun at him, making it sound like he’d fallen head over heels for the girl that regularly ordered an iced latte with triple sugar. He swatted their teasing comments away but blushed the shade of Jongho’s hair when Wooyoung mentioned he’d seen some sketches in her sketchbook that looked an awful lot like him.

“If he liked her I wouldn’t really blame him,” Seonghwa had laughed, perfectly straight white teeth on display. “She’s intriguing.”

So, yeah, they all agreed there was something interesting about you. The ones that hadn’t met you tried coming up with ways to meet you, and the ones that had tried coming up with ways to meet you again. All the while Wooyoung giggled, knowing he’d have to spend the most time with you and loving the fact he could rub it into everyone’s faces.

But, for now, they wanted to spend their weekend relaxing and being lazy without constantly thinking about some cute girl. (That was a lie. Even though they would deny it, Wooyoung couldn’t deny the way his mind wandered to you every hour, wondering what you were up to; Seonghwa thought of you every time he stepped into the kitchen and if he concentrated hard enough—which he did for a single reason—he was sure he could still smell your sweet vanilla aroma wafting through the air; Jongho worked his way through his books faster so he could go to your book store and Yeosang spent his day at work hoping you’d walk through the door.)

You didn’t really question it, but were still mildly confused, when you walked out of the art studio the next Monday and saw Wooyoung standing against the wall, waiting for you. Students ogled as they passed by him and some talked and laughed extra loudly to get his attention, but his eyes remained on you.

Approaching him, you raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“Picking you up, obviously.” He rolled his eyes playfully, reaching for your hand and dragging you out of the building. “I had another idea. I want to be able to do more for this project, so I’m going to choreograph and film a dance that we could maybe display at the exhibition with, like, a projector or something. You know, so we both contribute to this—equally. How does that sound?”

When he stopped and turned around to face you, he had to stop himself from cooing at your face as you thought. Your face was directed at him but your eyes looked unfocused, lower lip caught between your teeth as you tried to visualise his idea. Finally, you gave an approving hum and nod.

“That actually doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea,” you nodded as he resumed leading you to wherever it is he wanted to go. “Maybe the paintings could be based on pieces of your choreography.”

“Yeah, that’s also a great idea!” He cheered enthusiastically, a bright smile different from the usual mischievous one you see plastered on his lips. “Oh, also!” He stopped again as he remembered something, tugging on the hand that he still held within his colder one to get you to face him. “We’re gonna be hosting a party, you should come!”

Now that was something a bit harder for you to agree with.

“Oh, I don’t know…” The insecurity in your face dwindled as your words trailed off. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“Please, Y/N, just this once.” He gave you his best puppy eyes and pleading voice. “The rest of the guys want to meet you, and what better place than a party where you can let loose?”

You decided it was a tempting proposal. After a long, torturing pause, you finally sighed, “Fine. When is it?”

Excitement lit up on Wooyoung’s face and you could’ve sworn his brown eyes nearly started sparkling. “We were planning on Saturday, but we haven’t made the announcement yet so we could always change it if you want.”

The pure joy he felt faltered for a second as your face fell.

“I’m not available on Saturdays, so Friday or Sunday would work better for me if that’s ok.”

Instantly, he began nodding. “Yeah, we could do it on Friday. What do you do on Saturdays, if cou don’t mind me asking?”

Ah, shit. I did not think this far ahead. You smacked yourself mentally, scrambling to come up with a plausible excuse. If he found your hesitation suspicious, he didn’t say anything about it as he awaited your answer. Instead, he watched with interest, loosely swinging your conjoined hands from side to side.

“Oh, you know. I study and catch up on all the sleep I usually miss.”

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at you, lips pursed and a contemplative hum ringing from him until he nodded and resumed his walk once again. “Okay. I’ll send you the address later, it won’t be at our house—last time someone broke the chandelier.”

“What chandelier?” Your brows furrowed as you briefly looked up to him. It was then that you realised he was still holding your hand, so as discreetly as possible, you tugged on it and hoped he would get the hint.

“Exactly.”

After a few more tugs it seemed like he finally noticed, his grip loosened and you were able to slip your hand out.

“Do you have any classes for the rest of the day?”

You shook your head after trying and succeeding to remember your schedule. “No, why?”

“Great, let’s go eat!”

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] this one's a bit short. i'm not really amazing at writing scenes that involve more than 4 people, but i've been getting better i think so it should be fine. we finally got some vampteez content in this chapter, hope y'all like that.

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ taglist ... @atinytinaa @marievllr-abg @legohwas @moonsangie @kiss-hwa @cqndiedcherries @ateezourstars @kitty4hwa @hyukssunflower @aestheticsluut @neohyxn @mrowwww  @darkdayelixer @itsokaytobedumb00 @hwa-sans @purplelady85 @meginthebuilding27 @stopeatread @mothworked @foliea @euphoric-emily16 @teezers99 @mulletjoonsupremacy @imalildelulu @sunukissed @blehhhidk @ad0rechuu @d1am0ndw0lfxd @strawberry-moonpies @bluehwale-main @lightinythedark @stupefystudies @yandere-stories @skz-enthusiasttt @seongwin @huachengsbestie01 @galaxypox @seongwin @yuyunhoo @kyukyustar @seongfury @moonminji @lilactangerine @lelaleleb ​​@asjkdk @honey-lemon-goose

　　NEVER SAY NEVER　©　seonghwaddict, 2023

[rarepears]

Hello, where can I find an AU where Liu Qingge and Luo Binghe switch roles?

By which I mean the following:

Shen Qingqiu absolutely loathes his shidi. The Bai Zhan peak lord is no better than a mindless beast, a brute. For all that his fellow peak lord was blessed with talent in the martial arts - he was a prodigy that immediately overwhelmed his older martial siblings just a year after joining the sect to assume the position of head disciple - and dogged stubbornness that allowed him to discover endless rare treasures and even rarer beasts and plants, this shidi was an irritating, uncouth, ill mannered and even more ill tempered cultivator that always accosted Shen Jiu day in and day out for-

"Fight me!"

Shen Jiu wacked Luo Qingehe on the head. "Beast!"

Luo Qinghe stepped back a couple steps, not looking sheepish in the slightest. "Shixiong," he whined instead, looking like a bullied maiden with teary eyes and a pout. He hunched himself to not look like the broad shouldered towering menance that was Bai Zhan's War God. "Just one spar? I made you lunch too."

Shen Jiu knew better than to be tricked at such foolish deception. Not when he knew the true purpose of Luo Qinghe's goal was to...

To...

"Immoral!" A scandalized young boy jumped right in. His face was red and incensed. He pulled out a sword - a wooden sword, one that was granted to disciples too young to go to the sword peak and find their cultivation sword - and immediately lept over the guqin. "Leecherous scum!" He raised the sword high over his head to strike the Bai Zhan peak lord.

Shen Qingqiu raised his fan higher so he wouldn't have to see the despicable scene any longer. Yet again, he regretted taking on the Liu clan's scion into Qing Jing peak. This noble's son was far more suited for Bai Zhan's ways, no matter how his face and lineage indicated that he was more suited toward spiritual cultivation.

No-

No, it was more apt to say that it was Luo Qinghe's fault. The man has folded like wet paper the moment Shen Qingqiu had interrupted to say that he wanted the Liu heir for his peak.

Yes, that was accurate. Everything was the beast's fault.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

An AU where Luo Binghe is the Bai Zhan peak lord and part of the Qing generation. Liu Qingge is Shen Jiu's newest disciple. Somehow Luo Binghe's demonic seal managed to stay in tact... until Liu Qingge goes off to participate in his first Conference and Mobei Jun tears apart the Bai Zhan's seal.

Luo Binghe regularly barges into Shen Qingqiu's cottage with food - it's his (poorly thought out) attempts at wooing his shixiong. His requests for spars are so he can get his hands on Shen Qingqiu - cop a feel or two. See a mussed up disheveled Shen Qingqiu too, with red cheeks and panting mouth. Hehehe...

Everyone and their mother knows about Luo Binghe's crush on Shen Qingqiu. If only Shen Qingqiu didn't think that Luo Binghe was messing around with him.

As for Liu Qingge? His mom arranged for her son to go to Qing Jing peak as Proper Noble Children Do in hopes of Liu Qingge actually learning the gentlemenary arts instead of only fighting with swords...

No, it doesn't work.

But Liu Qingge is there to help console Shen Jiu after Luo Binghe's "death" in the conference. (So Luo Binghe did learn some politics by having a crush on Shen Qingqiu and jumped into the Endless Abyss himself...) Funnily enough, Liu Qingge, despite being a Qing Jing disciple, manages to become the new(?) Bai Zhan peak lord after Luo Binghe's "death". Blame Bai Zhan peak lord tradition of being the best fighter on the peak.

Liu Qingge still continues calling Shen Qingqiu "shizun" in peak lord meetings though.

[magicalrocketships]

you reblogging that baby max art made me think of deaging au... do you have any more of it please?

Have a tiny bit of small Max being smaller! More of this verse found here. Jumps somewhere a bit different in the verse, just an excuse for a hug tbh.

Max has been seven years old for two months. 

Daniel's got used to it. They have a routine, because Max likes routine, and it turns out Daniel's also feeling happier now that he has a reason to eat three meals a day and go to bed at a reasonable time and wake up to Max peering at him from the end of the bed, flag book in hand. He's got used to the Jimmy or Sassy cats following him around and watching him go to the toilet or get dressed, because of course Max's cats are the perviest cats. 

He's got used to a lot of things. He's got used to putting Max first. 

He's definitely got used to the Guardianship papers that legally bind him to Max until Max is an adult again. 

But he hasn't got used to waking up to the sound of Max crying. It's rarer now than when Max first came to stay, but it's a sometimes rather than a never. And tonight it's worse, because the noise that wakes him up is a scared, high pitched cry that Daniel knows instinctively is Max even if it doesn't sound like his normal tears. Because when Daniel walks into Max's bedroom— because he has a bedroom now, with pictures on the wall and his toys and a labelled drawer that Daniel isn't allowed to go in where Max keeps his special things — it's not a seven year old Max that's crying up at him. 

This Max is smaller, is small-small, is a fucking toddler. He's all twisted up in his Pikachu sheets, the doona half off the bed, and his too-big pyjamas are hanging off him. He's little. He's got younger. 

Daniel, terrifyingly, doesn't know if Max will know him, or if he'll be a grown up stranger in the middle of the night. 

"Maxy-Max," he says softly. "Are you okay?" 

This tiny, toddler version of Max has flushed red cheeks and tears everywhere and snot. He sees Daniel and immediately holds his hands out, and Daniel, overcome with relief, sinks down on the bed and lets Max scramble into his lap and into his arms. Daniel hugs him. 

"Danny, Danny, Danny," Max says, hiccoughing through his tears. Daniel is normally Daniel to Max. Danny is for goodnight hugs and middle of the night tears. Max clings to him. 

Daniel reaches for Max's favourite Pikachu toy, a little well-loved in places, caught under the pillow and half off the bed. "Were you missing Pikachu, Max?" 

Max tucks Pikachu into the tiny little gap between him and Daniel's chest. He rubs his face on Daniel's t-shirt. He snuggles closer, hugging Pikachu. He stuffs his thumb in his mouth, looking up at Daniel like he knows Daniel's going to make him stop sucking it. Daniel isn't. Max has already been through his childhood once. Daniel's not going to stop him doing a single thing that brings him comfort this time around. What the fuck does it matter, anyway? Nothing about this is normal. Going Small normally lasts a couple of days at most and has most kids aging upwards. Max has been seven for two months and now he's smaller. The universe doesn't tend to de-age beyond about seven, unless the kid is going to be a hundred percent safe at the other end of it. At least that's one good thing about this: the universe knows Max is safe with him. This little Max toddler, sleepy and tear-stained, who knows and loves Daniel and is holding on to him tight. 

Daniel kisses the top of Max's head, and snuggles him closer. He's probably two-ish. It doesn't matter, though. His crying's lessened. He's tucked into Daniel's chest. He's already going back to sleep, cheek pressed to Daniel's shirt. 

"Love you, Maxy-Max," Daniel tells him. His hand strokes Max's back. 

Max falls asleep between one breath and the next, clinging to both Daniel and Pikachu. In the morning, if they wake up and Max is still tiny, Daniel will pay extra for a one hour delivery window for a Go Small Toddler kit.  

Daniel's clearly going nowhere tonight.

In his arms, baby Max snores. 

[threadsun]

Anonymous Asks: "If ya get the time for it, I really wanna see some pet play stuff with the SDJ boys. More specifically, with us being the pet and the guys being the masters.

(Also, due to Nick's profession, I feel like he'd be WAY better at this than anyone lol)"

Content: petplay, tail plugs, gags,

Jack:

He doesn't have an animal preference, but he will default to you being a dog if it's left up to him

He wants you done up all cute, with ears and a tail plug and everything! He wants the fur to match your hair colour as well, so you look like a proper little puppy for him

He'll have you sit by his feet with your head in his lap, petting you slowly while he tells you all the dirty things he wants to do to you

He'll ramp it up slowly, first a collar and a bone gag, then telling you to fetch things or lay down or roll over, and finally fucking you doggy style as he pulls your tail to hear you howl for him

You'd better not be planning to say a word to him all night. Good puppies don't talk, after all! He'll only respond to barking~

Ian:

Doesn't matter what animal you are, he's treating you like you're the softest and most delicate thing in the world

He won't even think to collar you unless you ask. But he'll spend plenty on high quality ears and a tail for you! Even some cute little paw gloves and socks if you want

If you do want a collar, it'll end up being soft and comfortable and have a little tag with his name on it

Honestly, as much as he'll get horny and fuck you when you're in pet mode, he'll always want to start with cuddles and snuggles. He just wants a loving pet!

He usually goes into it intending for it to be nonsexual petplay, but his dick gets the better of him every time

Shaun:

Please be a cat please be a cat please be a cat! He'll accept any animal, but god does he want you to be a cat

If you're going into pet play with him, you'd best be ready for him to go all the way. A leather animal mask, leather mitts, tying your ankles to your thighs. You'll be on all fours the whole night

Look, he'll go soft petplay if you ask him to, but for him the appeal is making you as animalistic as possible

He'll have you eat from his hand. He'll talk to you like you're really just a pet. He'll show you how to go down on him or get ready for him to fuck you like it's your first time

He gets fully into the role of being your owner. You're his pet, and he'll love you and use you as he sees fit

Nick:

He's pretty experienced with petplay, and he doesn't really have an animal preference, though he likes rarer ones

He's all about the experience. Both making it a good one for both of you, and making it an interesting one for himself. He likes trying new things, so ask him for whatever you want

Everything takes a lot of negotiation with him. It's one of his favourite parts of sex! So be prepared to tell him what you want

You want a collar? He's got it! Ears and a tail? Check! Leash? Absolutely! Seriously, anything you could possibly want to use, he's got about ten of for you to choose from

Once you're actually in the scene, he's fully into the role of your owner and you as his pet

Joseph:

Joseph has a soft spot for puppies. He'll do petplay with you as any animal, of course, but puppies are his choice

He likes the way you look so happy just to be with him! The way you come to him when he pats his knees and the way you wiggle on your back when he rubs your belly

Seriously, the unconditional love and joy of a pet is something he desperately needs, so he cherishes it

He'll fuck you if that's what you want, but honestly he's just as happy to sit with you on the couch and cuddle while you're in petspace. It's soothing for him

If you do want him to fuck you, he'll be gentle and slow about it, making sure his sweet pet is happy~

Jean:

He may be soft with his actual pet, but he's not gonna be soft with you, no matter what animal you are

Seriously, he takes great delight in punishing you for everything. From trying to sit on the furniture to talking back to him to anything else he deems "unacceptable for a pet"

He'll impose harsh rules on you and any slight deviance from those rules will have him spanking your ass raw

He loves to fuck you right after a punishment when you're physically and emotionally bruised and off-balance. He'll tell you what a bad pet you are while pounding into you

He lives for the psychological and physical sadism of being your owner. You'd better be prepared...

Rory:

Any sort of pet is good for him! He's not very high energy, though, so don't expect him to do much active playing

More than anything, he wants a sweet pet who'll curl up with him and shyly grind against him because they're just so needy, and he can urge them under the covers

His favourite thing is watching his sweet little pet go down on him. Something about it drives him wild

Whenever he doesn't need his hands for anything else, he'll pet you. He loves petting you and praising you and letting you know you're the best thing he could ever have!

Seriously, he's horny and sweet with you the whole time! He loves you and wants you so much

Barry:

It doesn't matter if you're into petplay or not, Barry will eventually decide to turn you into his cow

You don't have a choice in the matter. He's getting you cow print lingerie, a cow bell, some ears and a tail. If it goes far enough, he'll even end up branding you

This is happening during work hours, as well. It's your new uniform, have fun! You're now required to moo in greeting too

Seriously, he gets such a kick out of your discomfort. He'll strap you up to a milking machine, put you on display, and charge people to fuck you if he can get away with it

He might branch out to other animals, but cow is generally his go-to because it's so humiliating for most people

[maybege]

What If - Part 3

Summary: The more you get to know Paz Vizsla, the more you fall for him.

Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader

Wordcount: 5.8k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), semi-public sex, thigh riding, cockwarming, dirty talk, idiots in love

Whoop whoop! Another weekend, another part! This is, technically, part 2.2 with some more smut, some fluff, some idiots in love and a very special adorable guest star that could not miss if we want to talk about Paz in S3. Thank you so much to everyone who wrote a comment or reblogged the story so far, I really appreciate it and I hope that you enjoy this part too. The next (and last) part will be out either next week or the week after, just because I need to channel all the angst lol

Again: Just a little reminder, that this is not strictly adhering to canon and I am just roughly imagining what actually happened during these episodes.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

You woke up alone the next morning, the sun already high in the sky. It was later than usual but you felt so blissed out, you could not really bring yourself to care. Your entire body felt deliciously exhausted and as you stretched your arms over your head, letting out a big yawn, you realized that you had slept better in this stranger’s (though could still call Paz Vizsla a stranger now?) bed than in the last few years in your own cot.

There was a fresh bowl of fruit on the desk and this time you did not hesitate to devour the tasty berries which you knew he had meant for you. The sheer fact alone that Paz Vizsla had organized breakfast for you made your heart race.

The sun was out in full force by the time you left the ship. You could see people milling about, carrying crates this and that way and for a moment you felt bad that you had slept the day away instead of helping.

But then you thought about how your job for these few days was to be a calmer. And if your alpha (yours) was calm and happy and made your heart skip a beat, then you had done your job by keeping the peace and prolonging Axe Wove’s life for yet another day.

Rounding the ship to get to the inventory, you passed by another ramp, this one almost completely abandoned except for a small figure that huddled at the entrance. When you came close enough, you realised it was a child. Still helmeted with the same blue as Paz’s clan, but certainly a child if the frail shoulders and little hands were anything to go by.

For a moment, you hesitated. You didn’t know what it was like in their clan but in yours, it was rare to see a foundling on their own and even rarer to leave them on their own if they were upset. So you approached him.

“Hi,” you greeted the child sitting, “You okay?”

You could hear sniffles under his helmet and your heart broke. Clearly, they were not okay.

“Yeah,” the boy mumbled, turning away from you, “Go away.”

Forgotten were the happy activities of last night and the way Paz Vizsla could make you smile even in his absence. “Were – do you maybe want to talk to one of the elders of your tribe?”

He shook his head fervently.

“Sometimes it helps me to speak about it with a friend,” you suggested lightly, “Do you have a friend you want to talk to? I could get them if you like?”

“I don’t need your help,” he spat suddenly and you recognized the hurt in his voice, your mouth grimacing at the pain he must feel. And you were not about to abandon a hurt child, no matter how angry they might be.

True to your feelings, it did not take long before he spoke up. His voice was much softer than before.

“They said I could not be a good Mandalorian because –“ he shook his head again, folding his arms over his knees.

“Because?” you asked carefully, debating whether any of the clans might be offended if you consoled this child. But in the end, you decided, you all just valued the foundlings’ happiness.

“Because I have never been to Mandalore.”

You hummed in acknowledgement.

“Most of the people here have never been to Mandalore,” you explained gently, “I haven’t been either and you don’t see me being treated like I’m no Mandalorian, right?”

He tilted his head, musing over your words. You could see how he was debating your helmetless existence and not for the first time did you wonder what it was like to grow up in one of the more stricter tribes. Whether their foundlings grew up knowing that there were other ways – many ways, actually – to the same goal.

“My dad has been to Mandalore,” he said suddenly with the pride only a child could have.

“Really?” you asked, “And he never told you that you need to have been on Mandalore to be a true Mandalorian?”

He shook his head eagerly. “No, he said I am a true Mandalorian no matter where I was or not. The important thing is to honour the way of the warriors,” he quoted his father with a deeper voice and you smiled at his antics.

“Your father sounds like a very wise man,” you nodded, “And don’t you think he would know a bit more about being Mandalorian than your fellow foundlings?”

That seemed to give him pause. “Yes, my buir is very smart,” he said thoughtfully, “And I don’t think that Loren and Say’na have been to Mandalore either, actually.”

“See?” you nudged him playfully, “They don’t know what they’re talking about either. We are all just on our journey to become Mandalorian.”

The boy nodded, clearly in a cheerier mood than before. Then he turned to you fully. “I am Ragnar,” he inclined his head, “This is the way.”

Recognizing it as his greeting, you repeated your name and the phrase,

“What do you think Mandalore will look like?” he asked eagerly, “Have you dreamt about it? I have. I think it is going to be full of the highest mountains and no caves in sight, I don’t like caves. And waterfalls too! Buir said he saw a waterfall as a child and he promised one day he would show me.”

Grinning at his excited chatter, you listened carefully to the pictures he painted with his words. Of snow-capped mountains and rain forests so full of rain, there would never be any deserts in sight. (Turns out Ragnar did not like deserts nor the creatures that lived in them.)

“What do you think Mandalore will look like?” he asked again after a while and despite the blacked-out visor on his face, you could picture his eyes twinkling in delight.

“I think it will be full of grassy hills and lakes,” you revealed, “When I was little, I always dreamed that I could wake up to the sound of waves and take a swim whenever I wanted. Has your buir told you what Mandalore is like?”

“Buir does not like to talk about it,” he shrugged, “But I am sure if you would ask him nicely, he would tell you! He always says I'm too small for that stuff but you are big! Though my buir is bigger, he is the best warrior in our tribe and one day, I am just going to be like –“

“Who do we have here?”

“Buir!” the boy called excitedly and you watched with utter surprise and fascination as he jumped up straight into the arms of the warrior who had kept you company the last few nights.

“You are – He is – What –“

“Getting all speechless again, ‘mega?” the large man joked, “Seems I have that kind of effect on you, huh?”

You were so flustered you did not know what to say. Instead, you just snapped your mouth shut as your brain worked overtime. Paz had a son. Ragnar was Paz’s son. Paz was Ragnar’s father.

Now that you saw them together, their helmets the same colour as the night sky, you wondered how you had not realized it earlier. But Paz had never mentioned a child. And as you watched Paz set Ragnar down again, a heavy hand on his shoulder, you wondered whether Ragnar might have a mother somewhere that still played a role in Paz’s life.

The thought made you feel strangely queasy.

“Buir, she has never seen Mandalore before either,” Ragnar announced, looking up at his father, “Maybe I can be a good Mandalorian after all.”

“How many times have I told you your value as a warrior quality is not dependent on whether you have been to Mandalore,” he chided his son gently in a way that parents often did when their children finally had a revelation after years of them telling them the exact same thing.

“Sometimes it helps to hear it from someone else,” you said quietly. Paz’s gaze snapped to you and you swallowed.

“I suppose that is right,” he said and as Ragnar decided to jog back to his now-again friends to play, Paz came to stand in front of you in all his glory, covering the sun from your face.

“Ragnar is very sweet,” you started shyly, “I didn’t know he – or that you – He … he is very proud to be Mandalorian.”

“That he is,” your alpha replied, “Some clans don’t see him as my son ever since I found him all alone but to me and mine he is my son in all the ways that matter.”

“Our clan has the concept of foundlings, too, you know?” you smiled, your heart bursting in your chest at how protective he was over his son, “He is very proud of his father.”

“And I am very proud of my son,” he replied, “He, uh, he only recently had his helmet ceremony. And it got interrupted in a – he – let’s just say there is nothing I would not do for him. A world without him is no world for me.”

“And that is all that matters,” you reassured him, your heart skipping a beat while your head tortured you with images of what he would be like as a father of your children.

“Did you sleep well?”

You shook your head slightly, shaking off the question of whether he would mind being the father of your future children, “I did, though I am a bit sore.”

His hands immediately appeared at your side, gently helping you up as if soreness rendered you incapable of carrying your weight on your legs. You snorted, feverishly trying not to think about how the heat of his body seeped through your clothes, “Alpha, it is not that bad.”

“I like it when you call me alpha,” he rumbled, not seeming the least bit worried about his concern for you, pulling you closer so he could wrap his arms around you properly, “You did it last night … maybe you can do it tonight too.”

Your core felt molten at the thought of being in his arms for the rest of the day and you were sure he could see how your chest was heaving in excitement. Though as much as you wanted to, there was a tiny voice in the back of your head that made you hesitant.

“I am not sure if I can leave again,” you spoke out loud, “It … Would you truly be okay with me joining your clan quarters for the night again?”

“I don’t think it will come to that conversation at all,” Paz said, his hand sweeping over your back, “The council has decided,” he announced quietly, “We will make our way to Mandalore by nightfall. And if you are comfortable with the thought, I'd like to share my cot with you.”

*

The ship offered no privacy.

While Paz did have his private room –  the one you had spent the previous night in – getting all clans onto one or two ships, meant having to share and rethink the limited space available. As a sign of respect to the clan leader, Paz Vizsla offered Sluice his room and she accepted.

This meant that Paz, along with his fellow warriors, was assigned one of the bunk beds. And one of them meant one of 64 in a large narrow room with too high ceilings and four bunks stacked on top of each other.

The worry in his voice was clear, even through the helmet, when you helped him carry his personal belongings (including a very soft blanket you distinctly remembered cuddling into), assuring you that you could change your mind. But the thought of leaving Paz had not occurred to you once and when you pointed out that several calmers had joined their alphas in the large room and none of them seemed to mind, his shoulders had visibly relaxed.

“We will find privacy in other corners of the ship,” he had promised you, his voice low and deep and sending shivers down your spine.

Only you had not expected him to find privacy so soon.

You were walking down one of the abandoned hallways of the ship, trying to get a feel for the layout so you would not get lost on your way to the cantina again. The negotiations had been postponed once more and with Paz in his polished armour, bent over a strategy table, you decided to flee the cockpit so Chants could not see just how needy you were for your alpha.

Your alpha.

You smiled, the warm feeling in your chest expanding until your entire body felt warm and cosy, thrumming at the thought of him. Could it be that Paz Vizsla really was your alpha? You had never expected to find what some of the elders had called true mates: a person – an alpha – that was just perfect for you and for whom you were perfect. And while you were not sure if you were truly someone that he would want forever, you were getting surer and surer that he was that someone for you.

You were just about to turn a corner when a hand closed around your upper arm and drew you back. Instincts kicked on and you squeaked, flinging your leg back to try and kick back into your attacker but they turned you around so quickly, you had no chance. Within moments, your back was pressed into the cool metal wall behind you, with no option of escape. And a blue helmet entered your vision. “Paz,” you gasped just before his hand came down on your throat. He was not wearing his gloves, which meant he must have planned it all beforehand. You wondered when. And how. And if he spent more time thinking about you than you thought (an idea that filled you with an immense sense of hope) but all thought evaporated when his thumb brushed over your scent gland.

Fuck, you were needy for him.

“Is that okay?” he checked in, his voice rough. His helmet came down against your forehead and you could sense him looking at you so intensely you felt like you could never hide from him. “Wanted to surprise you.”

You nodded, pressing your thighs together when his fingers twitched on your throat. He was so in control of you, of the situation, it felt like you could flood your underwear just upon his command.

“You're not wearing gloves,” you whispered.

He hummed, his thumb scenting you again, “No, I wanted to feel you.”

“O-okay,” you gasped, writhing against him. His thick thigh slipped between your legs and your toes were barely touching the floor when he angled his leg just so. He made you dangle, the only things holding you being his hand on your throat and his thigh on your pussy.

And you did not want to have it any other way.

You did not have to see him to know he had a very amused grin on his face. “You like my armour,” he stated, his legs shifting and you squirmed, “Let’s see how much.”

“Wh-What?”

“Ride my thigh, omega,” he instructed, his fingers flexing around your throat, “When I step foot onto our home I want to have my armour marked by your come.”

“Don’t – don’t you want to fill me up again?” you asked, trying to tease him even though you felt like you were in no position to tease at all. More like begging. Was it too early to beg? “Or – or have me cockwarm you?” you added as an afterthought.

“Who says I cannot do all of these?” he chuckled, bumping you on his leg so high it put pressure on the part you needed most, “After all we still have at least a dozen hours before us.”

Your hands flew to his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you somewhat steady. Almost immediately, you slipped your fingers to his cowl almost immediately and Paz did not stop you when your fingertips managed to find his warm skin, brushing over it until you found his scent gland.

“I don’t see you grinding yet,” he said instead, angling his knee even higher and you squeaked, “Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?”

Of course, you did. And he knew it.

With your dress hiked up over his leg, you could feel the coldness of his beskar through your underwear. And what might have been a turn-off under normal circumstances, with Paz towering over you, shifting his leg again as a reminder of his presence, you found that it turned you beyond belief.

You started moving your hips slowly, though you felt like you were failing miserably at exuding any kind of sex appeal. With your feet having no real contact with the ground and Paz fixing your head so you would not lose his gaze, you felt anything but graceful. But he did not change his stance, nor his grip on your body. While he kept one large hand on your throat, his thumb consistently brushing over your scent gland, the other wandered to the cleavage of your dress.

As soon as he started pulling the delicate neckline down, baring you to his eyes so slowly, your breath got heavier until it just got stuck in your throat. You wanted to please him, stars, how you wanted to please him. And you knew that he liked you, knew that he found you beautiful and yet, at this moment, it was only his mumbles “Stars, you’re so beautiful” that had you release your breath.

And worry about other things.

“What if someone sees?”

“Then they’ll only see my back,” he replied, his fingers playing with your tits and tracing over your pebbled nipples, “And if they tried to see anymore, they will have to deal with the consequences.”

Something in his tone, the possessive undertone, paired with his scent, caused a fresh wave of arousal in you. You could feel your panties sticking to your folds, the wetness gathering on the delicate fabric. There was something slightly humiliating about your position like this, out in the open, and yet you could feel no shame.

Not when Paz made you feel like the most beautiful omega ever to exist.

Soon, you grew more confident in your movements, grinding properly against the hard beskar plate. It was so unforgiving and Paz just kept on playing with your tits, gently plucking at your nipples like it did not make you tremble in his arms. “Could play with these all night,” he murmured, “One day I am gonna have your cock warm me all naked so I get to take my time. Just going to play with these until you’re blind from pleasure.”

You wanted to remind him that the last time he took his time, you had ended up being unable to speak and move. (Though the sleep afterwards had been fantastic.) But the words got stuck in your throat when his hand left your throat (and, regrettably, your scent gland) and pulled your panties aside.

Already, you could feel how drenched you were but could not find it in you to be embarrassed. Instead of ceasing your grinding at the thought of someone accidentally passing by, all you could do was hope that his finger might catch on your clit. They did not. Though knowing that he stared at where your folds left races of wetness on his made you even hotter. Your breaths grew heavier, the knot in your core tighter, and as you thought about cockwarming him until he filled you up again and again, you lost all inhibition.

Tightening your arms around his neck, you hoisted yourself up and closer to his chest. The proximity allowed you to pulse your hips and stars, did it feel good, the way your folds and your clit bumped over the texture of his thigh plate. You wondered how the design came to be – and although you were very sure that this particular situation hadn’t been considered when forging it, you still sent a silent thank you to whoever had made this piece. A few thrusts later, the beskar had warmed with your touch and with your increasing arousal it also became a much easier glide.

“Look at you,” Paz rumbled, clearly pleased, “Marking me for everyone to see. Grinding yourself on my armour like it is my cock.”

His words sparked a sudden idea. The kind of idea that made your heart race and your brain fuzzy but something in your chest told you that Paz would love it just as much as you.

With surprising determination, you surged forward and attached your mouth to the sliver of skin you had freed. His skin was warm and salty under your tongue as you sucked on his scent gland. His taste exploded on your tongue and you moaned, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.

Paz grunted, his body slamming you into the wall, punching the air out of your lungs.

“Fuck,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips and taking control of your movements. You could feel his bulge against your leg and knowing he was as affected by your pleasure made your heart flutter.

It did not take long for you to completely come apart in his arms. With his cock straining against his codpiece, your clit rubbing over his thigh plate your almost-but-not-quite exposure to anyone who might walk by, it had only been a matter of time.

You moaned against his neck, shaking in his arms as your walls clenched around nothing, wishing for his cock inside you.

“You're doing so good for me,” he growled, “Mark me, sweetheart. Do it.”

Your teeth just barely grazed his scent gland when you had the realization that, yes, this was what you wanted him to do. You wanted him to mark you, you wanted to mark him.

You wanted this man to be your alpha.

Another wave of pleasure rolled over you, making you whimper in the cold silence of the hallway. Your entire body just sagged into him, completely pliant for the man in front of you. And Paz was there to catch you, holding you up against him.

“Good omega,” he whispered, as he slowed your movements, gradually working you down from your high, “You are amazing.”

“Hmmm,” you hummed against his neck, brushing your nose over his scent gland, “You smell amazing.”

“Cause I smell like you,” he whispered, “C’mon, let’s get out of here before someone sees.”

“They won't though,” you slurred, your tongue still heavy in your mouth, “Cause you won't let them.”

He paused, his hands brushing from your shoulders to your hands. Slowly, his fingers intertwined with yours as if he were afraid you would run away if he were to touch you too soon. With him standing in front of you, his leg no longer between yours, gravity did its thing as your dress fell over your legs, hiding the sticky mess between your legs. Though your expression and scent probably gave it away to anyone who looked at you for more than a fleeting moment.

“Yes,” he said warmly, “I won't.”

Smiling through the haze, you rested your head against his chest and he let you. Being hugged by Paz made you feel secure in a way you had never experienced before. His arms tightened around you and he started to slowly sway from side to side, humming a melody you did not recognize.

“How are you so comfortable?” you asked in a mumble, trying to smooth your cheek against him through the cold beskar was nothing like the warmth of his skin.

He did not answer directly but you did notice a change in his scent, something that you hadn’t noticed before. You breathed in deeply, trying to decipher where this scent of woods and sweetness had come from but Paz interrupted your thoughts, “Will you let me accompany you to your bunk?”

“Will I?” you scoffed, your voice still sounding weak to your ears, “You have to, alpha, you’ve got a tendency to make my legs tremble.”

“Say stuff like this and I will make them tremble again.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“A promise, love,” he chuckled, “It’s a promise.”

*

You were not sure what you had expected when the entire Mandalorian population got cramped onto one ship, but it certainly had not been a board game championship.

“Hm, I could get used to that,” Paz murmured in your ear, his hand on your back, “Getting Ragnar to bed, having a nice drink to finish off the evening, sitting you on my cock and beating that annoying alpha in every single game this ship has to offer.”

You smiled against his neck, not opening your eyes. You had spent the last few hours just ... dozing. It was kind of scary to think about how quickly you had gotten used to this strange man but when you had settled for the evening, it was not even a question where you would spend the last few hours of the day.

As soon as the large alpha had sat down at one of the little play tables, so had you, straddling him with your chest against his and he had gotten an extra blanket from somewhere, muttering under his breath how he knew you got cold easily.

It made your cheeks heat up in a different way.

But now here you were, his cock nestled deep inside you and your face in the crook of his neck. Getting to touch even the tiniest sliver of skin felt like a privilege and the fact that he allowed you to do so in front of many of the other warriors made it feel even more intimate. Paz did not mind you scenting him. Quite the opposite, actually, he seemed to relish in it.

The previous night he had spent the time just like this, sitting you on his cock with a rumble in his chest. Only that time he had been able to reciprocate the scenting in kind. Whenever you had drifted awake (multiple times since some couples just could not keep quiet), his mouth had been on your neck, raining lavish kisses upon the sensitive skin until you squirmed in his lap. He had been awake every time you had drifted off and every time your eyes fluttered open beneath the blindfold. He had been still yes, quiet too, and smelled incredibly comfortable but his hands, his hips slowly working you open until you had muffled your gasps into his chest and come on his cock. And then he had traced his fingertips over your scent gland until you had fallen back asleep.

You wondered if he had not slept because he was nervous or perhaps because he just did not need to. You knew of a few warriors in your tribe who had made it a tradition not to sleep the night before a big battle or a trial, instead mulling over strategies and meditating until the time had come.

Briggs called them idiots.

But Paz was not an idiot.

Not with the way he carried himself so securely through the ship, how he participated in the training session, giving pointers to the younger warriors. And certainly not with the way he argued in the cockpit, discussing the best route to go to Mandalore and the strategy for how to reclaim it.

And definitely not with the way his hand was gently stroking your back, how his chest rumbled whenever you pressed a lazy kiss to his scent gland and how he made sure you were comfortable, checking in with you every time he shifted.

“You comfortable too, sweetheart?” he asked you, inclining his head so the side of his helmet was resting against your temple. The proximity allowed you not only to bury your face in his neck but also to hear his real voice – a fact that made your heart skip a beat, “Getting some rest?”

You hummed, too lazy to speak but chose to kiss his neck instead. The stretch made him shift inside you and you whimpered. He had come inside you once already and refused to knot you. (“The first time I knot you won't be in a room where everyone can see just how pretty you come for me,” had been his exact words and you had been too excited by the prospect of him knotting you to understand the implications of the rest of the words.) Which meant that there was a growing mess between your thighs, a mix of your juices and his seed and where other alphas might have found it uncomfortable, the reminder that he had filled you seemed to make Paz even harder than before.

“I’d be concerned if I had to ask my calmer if they are comfortable,” Axe Wove’s voice grated on your nerves and you wondered not for the first time if it was really necessary to be nice to him or if it would suffice to just keep Bo-Katan happy, “You wanna switch, sweetheart?”

You had not even registered that he was speaking to you until you felt Paz tense underneath you, his scent getting an acid note that made your nose twitch, “Say that again.”

“You heard me,” Axe Woves hissed, “Perhaps your omega would actually be satisfied if she were with me.”

You squeaked when you were simply lifted off Paz’s cock, his hands gripping your waist just a little bit too tight for comfort. He was angry, you could gather as much. But was that truly reason enough to kick you out of your favourite spot when you had just started to doze off again?

With trembling hands, you fought to close your robe as fast as possible. But when you finally looked up from fiddling with the belt, it was already too late.

The tell-tale buzzing of the vibro blade cut through the tense silence in the room and you knew shit was about to go down.

“Alpha,” you started to rush to his side but were kept on your spot by a pair of arms that were not your alpha’s.

You turned around angrily, ready to chide anyone who dared to keep you from trying to calm your alpha. Because that’s what he was. Your alpha.

“You know you cannot intervene.”

“Chants –“

“Everyone is watching,” your friend reminded you urgently. You knew he was right. That did not mean you had to like it though. Anyone going to stop a fight between two Mandalorian warriors had to be ready to fight themselves. And apart from your lack of clothing or your body still being disoriented from sitting on Paz’s cock not even five minutes ago, your lack of training did not lend itself to try and stop whatever was going on.

A roar was going through the crowd as they gathered to see what was going on. You caught glimpses of Sluice and the Armourer watching the fight unfold – Sluice looking just as displeased as Briggs, wherever he was, you were sure – and you grew restless. Paz making you fight made you nervous, the thought that there was even the slimmest chance that he could get hurt made you sick to your stomach.

However, after a few minutes of watching Paz fight, you found you did not mind seeing him throw and avoid punches. There was something very attractive about the way he strong-armed his way through the fight. Both men were capable warriors, that much was obvious, but his display of pure strength reminded you of your moment in the hallway and your raging heartbeat calmed down.

Paz could take care of this. He could take care of himself.

It was only when the silver-armoured man – Djarin, you thought – stomped into the circle, gripping Paz by the back of his neck and pulling him away the same way that Bo-Katan Kryze pulled away Axe Woves, finally putting distance between the two alphas.

You took that as your chance to intervene. Chants had no chance to stop you as you slipped out of his grasp and hurried towards Paz. His chest was heaving and his hands kept clenching by his side and you could smell his anger even from several steps away.

But it did not scare you. Because deep down you knew that no matter how big he was, no matter how angry, Paz Vizsla would never even think of hurting you.

“Alpha,” you whispered and the crowd went quiet, “I mean, uh, Paz.”

Taking a stand in front of him you hoped that he was focussing on you instead of a raging Axe Woves behind you. And your heart skipped a beat when his hands gently pulled you against him. He was aware of you, he noticed you, he did not care more about the fight than you.

“He said that I could not pleasure you,” he grunted and you moved to his side.

“I heard what he said,” you smiled, your hand gripping his while you rested your chin against his upper arm, “And it is obvious to me that he does not know what he is talking about.”

That seemed to relax him a little because you could see his shoulders drop and his fingers intertwined with yours. “No?” he asked, tugging you closer, “Are you sure, omega?”

“I am very sure,” you replied, feeling a little breathless, “No one ever made me feel like you do, alpha. Cherished and safe and wanted and … and –“ loved “– appreciated the way you do.”

“Can I let you go, Vizsla?” his friend asked, his tone neutral though you could swear you detected a hint of exasperation in it, “Or will you try to start another clan war?”

“Fuck off, Djarin,” Paz said, clearly not offended at the other man’s accusation, and shook his friend off but keeping his hold on your hand, “’m fine.”

“Yeah, sure,” the other man scoffed but left anyway, disappearing into the crowd that kept dwindling away now that nothing of interest was going on. But a few eyes remained on you and you suddenly became aware of how little you were wearing and how much you were being watched.

“Can we leave, alpha?” you asked, thumb brushing over his wrist and you loved how his head tilted to look at you. How he seemed to be so focused on you, you never need to worry he was in danger of ignoring you. “To … I don’t know to where, just … somewhere we’re alone.”

“I can take you to bed, omega,” he suggested, his hands falling to your hips, “I can … I could hold you close and scent you again. We got the curtain and the blindfold and our own little space. How does that sound?”

“That sounds like a dream,” you smiled in relief, already dragging him in the direction of the bunkroom, “Please take me to bed, alpha.”

[hina-hina]

Could you possibly do Ghost or König falling head over heels in a bar over fem! reader, but upon actually going to talk her they find she's mostly mute, signing and such. Though eager to try and converse with this tall masked man who sits at her booth, all pretty smiles and leaning in to listen.

Hello and thank you for requesting!!! This was a super cute senario!! I already wrote a selectively mute reader imagine, but this one is going to be slightly different!

Guys, I'm so sorry for being behind this week! I think I know what I want to do for 1K, but I think I'm going to finish with requests first! Again, sorry for ending my daily posts but hopefully this will cause more high quality work!

First and foremost, I am a Roach-Ghost bestie stan. Someone help me with writing accents!!! ::>_<::

This work is not beta read!!!

→ COD Masterlist

|| Ghost + König With a Mute S/O ||

Tags: Protective Ghost, Meet-Cute, Exchanging of Numbers, Soft Ghost, Bashfulness, Mute!Reader, Ghost knows Sign Language, Possible OOC Ghost (but I try to remain as faithful as possible), Nervous König, Awkward Flirting, Maybe OOC König,

Warnings: Pushy Guys, Alcohol mentions,

Female!Reader // Romantic

|| Ghost

Ghost very seldom finds people attractive. What even rarer is that he acts on said attraction. He doesn't want to doom anyone to be attached to him, a phantom that death clings to like an ill-fitting coat.

This evening wasn't unlike all the others that happened after a particularly taxing mission. They bar wasn't particularly crowded or nice, filled with stale air and some distant rock music playing over crackly speakers. The others seem content in their conversation, sipping their drinks and laughing as they unwind. Ghost was sat, mask pulled up slightly as he took the last sip from his class of bourbon.

While he does his scan of the room, something catches his eye. Or, rather, someone.

He sees you, sitting off in one of the booths. He finds himself wondering how such a pretty young women is alone in a place like this. Ghost finds himself unable to take his eyes off of you and maybe that's a good thing because he's watching when a (clearly intoxicated) man stumbles over to the booth.

For a moment, Ghost is sure this must be the man you came with and starts to turn away. However, he manages to catch your uncomfortable expression as you try to turn the man away with some hand gestures, to no avail.

With a gruff, "be right back," that is majorly ignored by his companions, Ghost pushes away from the bar and stalks closer to the booth. As he gets closer, he starts to hear what the man is saying and finds himself more disgusted. He is shocked you haven't cursed the man out and slapped him across the face for your trouble.

He clamps one of his hands down onto the (much smaller) man's shoulder, immediately causing him to freeze and glance over his shoulder. "Get lost," Ghost's dark tone reaches even this drunkards rationality causing him to scoff and stumble off.

Upon his departure, Ghost looks back at you who has now begun staring wide eyed at him. He clears his throat, gesturing to the empty booth across from you, "This seat taken?"

You shake your head, gesturing outward to the seat as if to say, "be my guest."

Ghost nods, slumping down into the seat and trying not to make it obvious he was avoiding eye-contact, "I hope that wasn't presumptuous of me. You must've came here with someon'. 'm... Simon. By the way."

You smile, still staring openly at him before shaking your head, signing something with your hands.

Ghost freezes for a moment. He didn't expect this sudden hiccup. He is, for once, thankful for being friends with Roach which led him to learning some sign in order to communicate with him more efficiently.

"'m sorry, love, I didn't catch that," the term slips out before he can stop it, "I know some sign, but can you go a bit slower?"

You look at him in shock for a moment that he can understand before slowing down and signing, "I'm here alone." and tacking on a sign-spelling of your name. You take special care to slow down, carefully signing each word to make sure he catches it. You ask him what he's doing here.

"I think I should be askin' you that. This isn't really the place for pretty ladies," he takes a secret pride in the blush that spreads across your cheeks, "I'm here with some friends."

You glance towards the bar where the other members of 141 have started to calm down a bit before signing, "I was supposed to be meeting someone here. Looks like I've been stood up, though."

Ghost scoffs, "If he wanted to meet you in this place, he ain't worth your worries."

Your smile twitches, "Your probably right. It's not turning out all bad though"

This causes a small, amused scoff to come from his mouth, "I'm glad I can entertain."

Before he could say anything further, a slightly tipsy Soap calls from across the bar, "Ghost! You comin'?" The others have begun paying their tabs and collecting their jackets. Ghost makes a mental note to smack him upside the head for interrupting, nonetheless.

He sighs, "Duty calls." Ghost reluctantly slides, from the booth. "You should get outta' here too. Need someone to take you home?"

You smile and shake your head, "No. I could settle for your number, though."

Ghost's lips twitch into an almost-smile before he holds out his hand for your phone, "That can be arranged."

He looks so baby girl here

|| König

It wasn't often König found himself going out to bars with his colleagues. Mostly because he found himself getting nervous in crowded places and because it wasn't really acceptable to wear a sniperhood in public spaces.

But, with some urging from his recently-acquired friend Horangi, he found himself reluctantly agreeing. Instead of his normal hood, he put on a simple, black surgical mask to try and help with his anxiety. At least this bar wasn't anywhere near crowded.

He still felt incredibly awkward sitting hunched over in the too-small bar stool. The others seemed to be having a good time at least, all of them caught up in some sports game playing on the tv above the bar. König quickly took a sip of his drink, scanning across the room before his eyes landed on you, sitting quietly off to the side with a group of friends. He pauses, stunned by your smile for a moment before he turns away quickly. Despite his blush being mostly covered by his mask, Horangi notices somehow. "You should send her a drink." If his eyes weren't covered by sunglasses, he was sure the statement would have been accompanied by a wink.

König gulped, "I couldn't..."

Horangi landed a friendly pat on the bigger man's shoulder, "Sure you could. What's the worst that could happen?"

König can think of quite a few things that can go wrong. But even then, he can't get your smile out of his head. He slowly lifts his hand, calling the bartender over before asking for some pleasant, fruity drink to be sent to your table. To you.

When the waiter came to collect the drink to bring to the table, König made a point not to look in your direction. He could already feel the hot waves of embarrassment wash down his back. He briefly thought about bolting from the bar before he realized it was too late, glancing over his shoulder as you scan the bar. Your eyes meet for a moment before König quickly turns away.

He expects nothing to come from it, that you would just laugh about the occurrence with your friends before going about the rest of your night. He figures he's wrong when he hears light footsteps approaching him from behind. You set the drink that he sat you down before sliding into the bar stool next to him. König glaces up nervously.

"I'm sorry..." König can't keep the apology from coming out. You frown slightly and shake your head, signing something with your hands. König pauses, clenching and unclenching his fist around his glass, "Oh... I don't know that much English sign..."

You nod sympathetically, thinking for a moment before gesturing to yourself before slowly fingerspelling your name. König watches intently before nodding slowly, "My friends call me König." At you curious look he laughs softly, "It means King in German. It's a... long story." He didn't really want to get into why he got his callsign.

You smile, slowly signing something along the line of "thank you" before gesturing towards the drink.

König nods, resisting the urge to sheepishly rub at the back of his neck, "Your welcome... I didn't know if you would like it or not."

In response, you smile and take a sip of the drink.

He finds himself laughing softly, turning more openly towards you before saying, "I'm glad. I'm sorry for taking you away from your friends. Your just... Really pretty."

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You start to slowly sign something else but your friends call out to you. You both turn, seeing your friends had begun to collect their things. This causes you to frown slightly, which König can't help but find unreasonably cute, before you turn an apologetic look back to König. He waves his hands dismissivly, "No, no, I-It's alright! Go and join your friends."

You take the last sip of the drink he sent you before pulling the napkin you had been using as a coaster from beneath it. You reach across the bar and grab a nearby pen, quickly squibbling down your number onto the napkin before presenting it to König. He takes it carefully, staring astonished before shrinking into himself, trying to hide a rising blush, "Danke..."

You smile before winking back at him, moving towards the bartender to pay your tab before throwing one last look at König that says, "You better text me!"

König nods, carefully folding the napkin and sticking it into his pocket before letting out a deep sigh. He can't help the small smile the comes to his face when he thinks about talking to you again.

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

⇣Taglist⇣ @scarlettproof @unabashednightmarepizza @kk00789 @cl0udii-m00n @polar2oidsworld @meepsters-world @uwu-i-purple-you @punziesworld @heaven-angels-world @crystalliebling @southernbluebellereader @nptnewr @blueoorchid

[azul-marie]

little habits of love.

fem. reader feat. arthur, charles, javier, sean, john

arthur —

drawings to amuse.

his artistry is unknown to many but you, and perhaps little jack for all his curiosity. arthur is a private, sentimental man, all his thoughts collecting and manifesting across the pulp of his journal’s pages. but if you ask, even just to tease, you’ll no sooner receive a carefully folded gift of a drawing of something you mentioned to him before — a flower, a wild turkey’s feather, even a sleeping portrait of charles. some are detailed and thoughtful, shadows and light captured alike, while others are messy little scrawls drawn from boredom, of long trips back campward all alone. arthur says nothing of these gifts of his. the only thanks he needs is the way you grin up at him, the way you press those pages between ones of your own.

charles —

blocking sunny rays from a pretty face.

his statue is much discussed, height and build and all, strength seeping through the cloth of his clothing. charles is accustomed to being the tallest, the largest man in the room, save for a mr. arthur morgan. yet it still comes times his body serves for a purpose other than hurt, than suffering — times when the summer sun is high up above the clouds, its rays piercing your eyes, twisting that lovely face of yours into a grimace. he is not aware of when this habit began. charles knew only to spare you from this bother, by standing behind or besides you to give you a slice of shade while you worked. when you notice, the way you fawn so sweetly warms his heart, though he’ll only brush it off as the right thing to do. if it’s for you, it’s always right.

javier —

hands and arms at your beck and call.

he is a gentlemen, posh and proud in his own right. although the two of you live this life of freedom and criminality, javier never forgets to treat you like the loveliest lady you are. on riverbank walks, he’ll cross your elbows together to keep you warm and close. he insists on his hands on your waist whilst helping you dismount your horse. no matter the length of stairs ahead of you, his hand is always outstretched for you to steady yourself on the way down. before you need it, javier’s holding whatever it is out for you to pluck from his grasp, always anticipating your every move. he insists it is the compatibility between you both, how in tune you’ve grown to be. loyalty is his name, and he’s given it to you.

sean —

a quiet vulnerability.

his boisterous, cheeky camaraderie is unmatched by any other in the gang. sean is, at once, the joy and annoyance of every one person’s heart, despite their saying otherwise. but rarely, rarer than double-crossed rainbows or a sober camp party, sean falls silent. it is the type of silence that comes with trust, and a side of love; it is the kind that belongs only to you. where his head rests upon your lap, on your shoulder, your bosom, eyes closed in thoughtful quiet. where he soaks up your whispered words and gentle touches, wanting nothing more than his world enveloped by you. it never lasts long, for sean is too adamant of his feelings to go on without showering you in some sort of affection — but this quiet, his quiet, speaks volumes on his behalf.

john —

senses, touch, only for you.

during the wolf attack, it was all teeth and scapes and blood left behind to mark him. and after, it was pairs of hands after hands, touching his face, his battered body, until the day he finally healed enough to walk. john, plenty touch-starved before, now flinches and flicks off unwanted hands or legs or shoulders when he feels them getting too close. but you are never too close, no, never close enough. perhaps it is the shy of the soul that doesn’t allow him to admit aloud; whereas he snaps and growls at the others, it is by your hand he calms, whether it’s a stroke of his head or a caress of his cheek. it is a trust deeply connecting, said without words. john knows no hurt when it comes from you.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hey it me again. Let’s try this for round two of my request for the tadc cast ( plus Caine) helping a reader with crutches at the breakfast table after they accidentally left them for the new i.h.a.

TADC cast x reader who uses crutches!

Side note I'm on mobile still for tumblr and my asks are getting weirder; the asks look fine in the inbox but when I go to answer them it like. Makes it on long thing, single worded lines. it's annoying and I dont like it!! It happened with the last request too grrrgrr

CAINE:

It takes him a while because it's not uncommon for circus members to skip out on IHAs, I mean zooble openly says they dont want to do them! But when he decides to go make sure you're not doing anything you're not supposed to (cough cough going into the void/j) he stumbles upon you

You can practically see the gears running in his head before he realizes the issue

Immediately zooms to your side and makes a show of apologies while helping you up

Shit he might even be frantic enough to scoop you up

Honestly I feel like Caine would feel so so bad and he would try to make it up to you

POMNI:

Feels very bad when she realizes you're not around; shes still trying to get hard to the digital world so shes still learning everyone and their whole deals

You know how some characters run with their hands out in front of them. In like a weird scurry. I think pomni would lowkey run like that when she tries to search every corner of the circus for you. Shed already check your room and a bunch of the halls before she even thinks about the main area

Letting out a stream of apologies as she gives you a hand, trying to let you know that she didnt do this to be malicious or hurtful

I think it would take a while longer for pomni to really, really, embed your needs into her schedule since shes juggling so much between coming to terms with being trapped and finding an exit, but she does promise to do better (and she does, eventually!)

RAGATHA:

It's rare that ragatha would just up and forget something like you needing crutches to really be able to move around; even rarer for ragatha to forget you as a whole for a brief moment

No I think the only way this scenario would work is if caine suddenly sprang up the days adventure out of no where as soon as the last person was done eating; and he decides to make it a really high energy chaotic one that takes everyone off guard

It's not long until she remembers you were left behind, though, shes probably one of the few who would take probably at most 10 or so minutes to go and get you.. jax is the second, oddly enough

That said she's apologizing and fretting over you before filling you in on everything you missed

Very sweet very nice, she wont let it happen again

JAX:

I like to think that jax does the "really fast run that he did leaving kaufmos room" a few times, especially when hes struck with a brilliant idea for a prank. So there definitely has been at least a couple instances where he left you behind. It's not so much that hes doing it out of malice, but its like. Those huge motivation spikes that prompt you to work ASAP, you know?

"Heh did you see that, reader?" After the prank he planted in an IHA goes off, turning around to find you're not here

Puts two and two together and runs off to where you were before and pulls you up

Lazy apology, I think, I mean I think jax is the type of person to struggle with apologizing but thats just me

KINGER:

Genuinely forgets because I mean... kinger has multiple instances of forgetting/not noticing gangle is right next to him in the pilot.. so do I really need to explain that kinger simply forgets? Obviously hes not doing it to be mean, assuming kinger truly is losing his marbles

I think it would require someone else outwardly asking where you are before he suddenly swivels in every direction trying to find you

Similar to pomni he runs around trying to find you before finding you by chance

Rather than immediately apologizing and helping you he runs over to you and expresses that he was scared SKMETHING had happened to you and how relieved he is to find that ultimately, you're okay

Then the streams of apologies start

Though I think this is a rare occurrence, because hes always trying to keep you in his line of sight; to align it with my other kinger hcs.. hmm.. perhaps this could happen in one of his worse days

ZOOBLE:

Zooble likely skips IHAs, so it would admittedly take them a while to find you. I mean if they're not at the IHA then they cant notice you're missing. I think they would find you when they decide to leave their room to wander the grounds, far from the chaos and

Oh!

You're kinda just, there. It looks like you had fallen over, your crutches far out of reach; perhaps you had tried to leave yourself after being stranded for a while

Zooble feels.. bad.. but they're flat in terms of expressing their emotions outside of annoyance and fear/surprise, so it kind of comes off as a

"Oh shit man my bad" reaction as they quickly try to get you your crutches and help you up

Takes you to their room after the fact, apologizing for bolting off so fast after breakfast

GANGLE:

Doesnt take long for her to realize you're not here, too, shes probably behind jax in regards of how fast shes going to retrieve you. Letting out these short squeaked apologies while helping you up; probably struggles doing so because shes made of ribbon and likely isnt that sturdy (I'm sorry that was mean)

Honestly you two probably skip out in the remainder of the IHA, gangle feels too horrible to go out and continue it snd you're tired, you know?

Two mirmir

[matchadobo]

KIDD; eustass kidd as a college student

summary: my headcanons of kidd as a college student in the modern world. no dfs here. part two here tw: afab!reader, nothing sussy here dw

* studies metallurgy or mechanical engineering

* insanely good at physics and chemistry 🫦

* but very emotionally and people dumb

* would wear graphic tees with rolled sleeves, ripped jeans, ankle boots

* eyeliner and lipstick on AT ALL TIMES

* is always late to class

* would be an overachiver

* makes every little thing a competition

* however, not an active student. he's just active when he wants to speak up about something he knows

* the typa student who does last minute reviews before exams and/or quizzes yet still manage to get a high mark

* lives in dorms with the other kidd pirates

* always have boys' nights where they just watch horror and scare each other, play games, or just get drunk

* not active in extracurriculars, he couldn't care less (unless it's related to his course or he's interested abt something it offers)

* know him as "that one hot redhead who always has a frown in his face and always gets into fights with the professors"

* would always banter with profs; not to disrespect them, but he's smart enough to butt heads with the professors. although his intention is to purely state what he knows is right, he always ends up disrespecting them bc of his language and attitude and gets demerits lmao

* kidd as a groupmate is a pain in the ass; he never replies and only does when he feels like it—which is rarer than rare. he replies to comply on the day before the deadline 🤬

* whenever there's debates, he's your man. mans got no filter and actually say stuff that no one wants to (e.g. controversies like church vs state, gray areas, taboos, gov't corruption, etc.), but only with a foul language

* submits tasks late 😫

* his handwriting is like this. he don't care abt pen width, brand, and type

* would visit nightclubs and bars seldomly, have hook ups and flings here and there but nothing was serious enough for him to go crazy for. he'd be with them one night max, he's the type of guy to leave afterwards 😭

his relationship with you:

* if you were just a blockmate he'd never even bat an eye at you let alone know you exist

- unless you caught his eye bc of your attractiveness physically or mentally

- if you haven't done anything remarkable to catch his attention, you're good as a rock to him

* if you're friends with him and is part of his circle:

- kidd being friends with you means that he can not only tolerate you but you can also measure up to and endure his feistyness

- that is tantamount to him being interested with you

- whenever a topic is blurry to you, he'd call you "dumb, birdbrain, shit for brains, etc" each time he explains and you still don't understand. but he would always accurately and patiently piece it out for you step by step, there's just some harshness that comes with it

- would always treat you to his and yours' favorite place after school whenever he sees you tired and bummed out after classes. would always tell you that "cmon i'll feed you some real fuckin' food, better than those ugly ass instant noodles you always have at your dorms." secretly loves seeing you eat and be full after meals

- each time your circle goes out, he'd always be seated next to you, is always close to you, or keeps an eye on you saying "you'll kill yourself with your dumb ass if i don't keep an eye on you." but that's just an excuse, cuz he likes looking at you

- study dates! well, he refuses to call them dates; just like how he refuses his feelings towards you. but would always insist on regularly doing this

> he doesn't really need the study dates, he's smart enough to excel on his own. he just wants an excuse to spend time with you, be close to you, teach you, make you laugh, and eat with you

- would he confess? he would, drunk. it'd start when you ask him to stop since he had too much to drink, he'll cup your face and tell you with flushed cheeks as his breath stinks from alcohol, he'll proclaim how much he adores you and how cute you are. he'll regret it in the morning and would avoid you for days.

- when you two get together, you two are inseparable. pda is clear as day. he's clingy af, would always link arms with you during lectures, rubbing circles on your soft skin. would let you put your thighs over his lap and stroke them fondly. when you put your head down during class as a result from weariness, his fingers with red-lacquered nails combs through your hair to soothe you. would always have an arm around you, whether above your shoulder or waist.

- his go to destressing activity is game/movie night with you and his circle

dreamy sighs 0~0

[saphirered]

for the prompts candlelight fluff with helion??

Ask and you shall receive! Tooth rotting fluff. 😘

Unlike the season courts Night, Dawn and Day adhere to the rules of this world. They do not remain a constant. As such the nights grow longer and the days colder. The rays of the sun become rarer and more distant. The radiant heat does little to warm cold bodies and when the light fades, what more is there to illuminate the darkness? Thousands of lanterns light the paths most often traversed. Candles litter the hallways and chandeliers in the homes and palaces casting that warm golden glow. Despite what Prythian might expect, the people of Day welcome the colder days. Where the sun is lacking they bring warmth of their own. Their High Lord is no different. He finds when the cold settles within him, when his glow is less bright, there you are, like the will o’wisps guiding the lost back where they belong. 

Even now, Helion has been hitting the books from dawn to dusk, until the words dance before his eyes and he can see no more the scribbles of ancient texts. The keepers of the palace have begun their journey, replacing the old lanterns and candles, and lighting those still usable. He rubs his eyes, pushes back from the stacks he collected and rises. His back hurts, his neck too and his head rings with a dull pounding. He hears your warning echo through his head. You’d told him to move every once in a while, to get up and put the books aside. Instead of heeding that warning he had binge-read what he could and couldn’t remember when he last got up from that chair since dawn. You’d give him hell for it. Helion missed your company and he supposes even your scorn would be a relief at this point. He’ll bear it. Not that you’ll be mad at him, nor will you remain upset. You’ll be more likely to look at him with a hint of exasperation. Nothing a kiss can’t fix. 

Wandering among the familiar halls is but a haze, his mind has floated off somewhere far beyond and he is but a ghost stuck in the same routine until that familiar door comes within sight. No light bleeds from under the crack. No sound emits from beyond that carved mahogany. It’s just dark, light and lifeless. Still Helion wanders in, the door falling shut behind him. Was he not so familiar with this space the complete darkness might have had him tumble and fall over the furniture but this had become a habit, was it not for his exhaustion or whenever you had yourself occupied with his lips, your fingers in his hair and your legs wrapped around his waist as he held you. He’d become quiet used to navigate the space without the need for sight. This time it was not your glorious being that required him to use that memory. This time Helion finds himself without the energy to make it to the bedroom and instead unceremoniously allows himself to drape over the couch, making himself comfortable among the pillows as much as possible. He lets the darkness carry him off and dreamless sleep enter his soul for some rest at last. 

You were late. You got carried away in some ongoings and plannings for the upcoming months, dealing with correspondence and ambassadors who did not so much adjust to your schedules it seemed but still you handled yourself graciously. You’re tired and glad to finally be on your way home. If anything, you don’t know how he does it. Helion doesn’t know you took on more of the tasks set out for him but you’d seen him struggle between helping his friends and running his court. You might not be as well-versed in the ways of healing or be able to pick the exact book you need off of any shelf within those endless libraries, but you know you can put up with people and so you did, for his sake. He’d been so engulfed in his research he hadn’t even noticed the passage of time, let alone the seemingly endless list of responsibilities suddenly needing less attention. You’re glad for it. 

It is days like these where you follow the lanterns until you enter the palace. The staff and residents have long since lit the candles that line the halls creating the every lasting golden glow you’re used to, now even more prominent in the darkness of night. In a way it reminded you of the muted glow you’d woken up to on many occasions, when that power of Day bled through the restraint its wielder kept. It never failed to bring a smile to your face. You know at times he’d do it on purpose if only to see that very smile and it had simply remained an unspoken truth. 

You approach the doors you’re all too familiar with but do not see that golden glow from within. Instead you see a basket of candles set out at the door, some wicks too. You shake your head to no one in particular as you pick up the basket and are met with darkness. You have the mind to light one of the candlesticks from one of the flames outside, that very source of light being the only one to illuminate your path. You don’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary and thus simply make your way through. Setting the basket on the side table the glow of that singular candle illuminates the fae shape on the couch, the peaceful features and gentle rise and fall of the chest. 

Helion is fast asleep. You kneel down to brush some hair from his face and take the blanket from the back of the couch to gently drape it over him. Quietly you make your way around to the other side of the room and light the candles already set out and replace the burned out ones, collecting the wax remnants in the assigned bowl. Slowly but surely the room is cast in that same golden glow you’re used to. The cold air begins to grow warmer. Every once in a while you’ll cast a glance over your shoulder to still see the High Lord fast asleep. You hum to yourself as you move through the room until your task is complete. 

A gentle melody guides him back to consciousness. No more does he feel that night cold within. Even behind closed eyes Helion notes the light that was not there before. The air feels different, more alive and more welcoming. The smell of melting wax and firewood enters his senses. With a satisfied sigh he opens his eyes. Your steps are featherlight as you illuminate the path you take, candles sparking to life in your wake. When you turn and see him, eyes as golden as the glow around you smile and Helion melts inside. You set the last candles. Alight like a halo behind you, like a truly angelic being you close into him as he rises onto his elbows. You catch onto his slight wince as he rises. 

“What did I tell you about reading for too long like that?” You scorn playfully. 

“I will better heed your warning next time, my love.” He all but grumbles, sleep still heavy on his voice. You chuckle as he sits up fully and you sit next to him letting your fingers lace with his as a mere force of habit. He brings it to his lips and kisses your hand watching the flush spread through your cheeks. Beautiful. 

“Promising words yet no true promise I hear.” You retort. He looks at you through his lashes in a way that admits guilt. “Move over. Turn your back to me.” You order. Helion raises an eyebrow you just roll your eyes. He does as he’s told either way. You have half the mind to mutter ‘good boy’ but keep your comment to yourself lest this turns a certain way before you get to do what you intend to do. 

“While I’d prefer to see your face, I’m curious to see-“ His words are cut off by his own moan when your skilful fingers work the muscles of his back, starting right between his shoulder blades. Damn does it feel good. He can feel the tension release as you go, working down his spine, across his shoulders and up the back go his neck into his hairline where you hit just the right spot that makes him feel lightheaded. 

“Please don’t stop.” Helion breathes when your hands pull away. 

“Not so opposed now, are you?” He can hear the smile and satisfaction in your words. The candles dance in his vision, their warmth and light pulsing with his own and it takes him a second to realise he is glowing too. When he goes to snuff the flame within him you stop him. 

“Opposed to your touch? Never.” He muses with a deep sigh. You keep working, untangling every muscle that burned throughout the day, washing ease and calm over him until his shoulders slump and head hangs lower. Only then do you stop. He makes a sound of disappointment but is quickly sussed when you get up from your spot and push him back among the pillows on the couch. Your hand on his shoulder, he takes your wrist. 

“Now rest a little while longer.” You go to step away but he keeps his hold just light enough to make it noticeable. With a gentle pull, You sit on his lap and feel his fingers dance up and down your spine. You’re not opposed to his advances, in fact you welcome them but you do grumble when you bring your lips to meet his, when his arms wrap around your waist and hold you close until you’re laying on top of him. Even when the kiss ends and he tucks your head beneath his chin, where you can hear the ease of his heartbeat, when you melt into his warmth, he glows like the candles and so do you. 

[480pfootage]

any thoughts about the bri-guy (brian thomas)?

hehe bri guy

i do have a lot of thoughts abot him... (under cut, extremely long tangent I apologize)

hmmm His mom wasn't in the picture while his dad was one of those paranoid doomsday preppers so he didn't have much of a childhood.. However with his dad being the way he is, he drilled into Bri's head at a young age how to handle guns, encode messages, some basic medical stuff, n other stuff like that. I think I mentioned it in another post but my Brian has ASPD and uh... growing up with the constant dread of everything being snatched away from you and the world ending combined with arduous 'training' kinda fucked him up in the head.. Around ten-ish he began to practice hunting animals with the neighborhood pets. Sooner or later though, he was found out (he may have preformed an impromptu surgey on the class pet lol) and got appointed a counselor at school.

During middle school he started to realize that he was exceptionally good at getting what he wanted. He could throw on a nice charm and even if things didn't go his way, he could steer it back to where he wanted....

High school was when he met Tim and Brian went onto college to major in psychology whilst rooming with him :3 Tim was the only one that Brian really really trusted back then, and the only one who knew of his diagnosis (which was a reason why he got so pissed when he found Tim's medical records because he thought that having trust in each other constituted to Tim having to tell him everything). And then marble hornets happened but you all know about that stuff.

OH before getting into the more pasta oriented stuffs just wanted to say that the operator and slendy aren't the same entities in my universe (if you wanna know more just ask!!). Either way, under the operator's sickness it was said in the mh comics (3.5) that his head was just filled with all these lines of codes and I interpret that as him being paranoid to the point that he had to encrypt anything he was saying as he thought he was going to get caught by someone.

OKAY pasta time. After mh happened, Tim had tried to escape the op and ended up somewhere up in wisconsin. He was at his breaking point then, he wanted his friends back, he didn't want to be on the run again. And then he met slender. At first he thought it was the operator and i don't want this Tim tangent to go on too long so uh... hehe ask if you'd want more but basically Tim made a deal with slendy to bring one of his friends back under the guise that he and said friend had to gather people for Him to feed on. He had asked for Jay, but that didn't work (Jay was already in Skully at this point) and so Brian was brought back from the ark.

hmm ok after that things get a bit fuzzy for me i can't remember what I planned out, but basically Brian, Tim, Kate, and Toby live in a cabin in the woods together working for slender. Brian doesn't consider himself human anymore, despite the fact that his heart was still beating, hell he didn't consider himself 'Brian Thomas' anymore. During the beginning stages of his revival he would always keep his stupid mask on and was extremely snappy. Brian is a very petty person and he holds grudges, so remembering the fact that Tim kept his medical records away from him, he continued to steal Tim's pills (and also Toby's whenever he came around and pissed him off). But those times are rarer now that he has gotten used to his.... situation.

Brian's the stalker type in their little operation. He gets the information for the gang and scopes the place out, not usually going in for the kill (that's Toby and Tim's jobs). Kills to him are something to relieve stress, whenever a victim is able to escape the others, he pursues them, the thrill of the chase is really what gets him going (it's a plus if he gets to hear them beg for their lives), he likes being in control of the situation. During missions like those he likes to make little snuff films, like I said he finds killing to be stress relief, and he edits it with his quirky little style (think the weird tta vidyas TT) accompanied with nature documentary type videos he takes himseslf.

I would talk about his relationship with Amos but this is getting a bit too long GRHGHRGHGAHGHAGH. OK. Next time I wil........

[acciocriativity]

Flower Shower - part of the Soulmate series

Pairing: soulmate! George Weasley x soulmate! reader

Genre: hurt/comfort

Warnings/tags: scars/flowers as a soulmate mark; small injuries; domestic fluff; little Fred in there (alive)

WC: 4,2 k

Harry Potter Masterlist

Worth The Pain - Harry Potter - part of the Soulmate series

The cake in front of me is long forgotten.

I touched the skin behind my left ear while those innocent memories drowned me, the days when I would spend hours in front of the mirror admiring the pretty flowers I’ve gotten that week or when I’d play with the boys in my neighborhood, just to get hurt somehow and give my soulmate some flowers too. I can’t feel it, but I know the white lily is there, right where my soulmate has a scar.

“How the fuck did you manage to hurt yourself here?”, I whispered, and the candlelight oscillated. “And how I haven’t met you yet?”, this time the light was extinguished.

My phone lit up on the counter. My mom’s name at the top.

Did you get it?

I could hear her voice in my head, excited about my reaction and partly worried if I didn’t receive my birthday present yet, but I couldn’t make myself respond this time.

Now that I’m so far from home, neither she nor my friends could come see me in person. Still, the love is on every message and phone call I got earlier that day, and I felt content, happy even. But as day turned to night, the loneliness got bigger and clearer to the point where I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay there alone, honey?”

I remembered how worried my mom was when I moved out 2 years ago.

“I won’t be alone, I have an excellent companion and right now he is offended”, I said and like on cue, Snuggles, the cat meowed to further prove my point.

That was my answer, because that was the last thing I wanted her to have on her mind. I took my time to move out, maybe more than I should, because my mother, a solo mom for her entire life, started to date and I felt like I was getting in the middle of her business. It was hard in a world of soulmates, to find someone with a dead soulmate or even rarer, without one at all, like her.

She was always grateful I wasn’t like that and for a long time, I knew that was where her biggest source of happiness came from, but soon that turned into nervousness as time went by and I couldn’t find my soulmate.

I went through life watching my friends’ worlds change as they grew, their soulmate marks appeared and eventually, when they met the one. I watched their happiness with a big smile on my face, and how could I not? It was wonderful to see how the magic happened, how the connection attracted them to each other and how their new life as a couple started. While all that happened, the flowers on my skin appeared one by one, sometimes huge enough to cover my arm length, other times so tiny I didn’t even know it was there, sometimes on my arms, legs, thighs, and back. I might have more than 40 now, but I can’t be so sure, since I don’t search for them anymore.

My soulmate has to be the clumsiest person on earth, there’s no other possibility and most days I wonder how they are even alive at this point, then I get another visible flower and a weight is lifted from my shoulders, because they are, indeed, alive.

“You better be waiting for me”, I whisper as if they could hear me somehow.

Suddenly I felt a fluffy thing creeping between my legs and I heard an angry, high-pitched meow.

“Of course I didn’t forget about you”, I cooed and held him up in my arms, near my chest.

Another offended meow.

“An attitude that you have there, I see”, I said and scratched behind his ears with a small smile on my face.

He purred while I walked us to my room. The gift box sat on the couch and the decorations I put up earlier were still on the walls, since I didn’t have energy to take those down. “We both are in need of some cuddles.”

For the rest of the night Snuggles kept me distracted, so much so that I could barely focus on the TV show I put on, because he would get up suddenly, climb me and purr so loud as if I wasn’t petting him already, and he would only stop if my pace was of his liking, but I couldn’t complain because I would do anything for him and the worst part is, he knows that.

I didn’t even realize, but I slept with the biggest smile on my face that night, and I have that smart cat to thank for that, maybe smarter than I could even imagine.

The very next day, I was seated at the same chair next to the same counter I was about to cry last night, flabbergasted. My hands clutching the phone I forgot to take with me last night.

“Mom, are you sure this is not some sort of joke?”

It was 7 a.m for goodness’ sake, way too early for that nonsense, it was what the rational part of my brain screamed. Yet, my mother wasn’t a fan of pranks, in fact, she hated them more than anything in this world and that’s the only reason why I was still listening in the first place, that and all the 35 messages and 4 missing phone calls I woke up to.

“There’s an owl staring at me through the window, when have you seen an owl here?”

I took a deep breath.

“So what do I have to do with that?”

I gave myself grace to eat as much of the cake as I wanted for breakfast, yet my plate was untouched, and I didn’t even feel like eating anymore.

“It says in the letter that Emmy needs to go buy her… things in London, and you know I would ne—

“I know you wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, I’ll go with her”, I interrupted her.

Why did I even agree with that? If it was true, I wanted, no, I needed to see with my own eyes and if it wasn’t, then Stephen wouldn’t need to take a day off just to come here.

She seemed relieved after this.

“Thank you, I didn’t want to put you in the middle of this chaos, I just… I want to help her out.”

“I know, mom, Stephen couldn’t take a day off? How’s she doing now?”

I put the phone on speaker while I made my daily coffee, which I needed more than anything now, all while Snuggles observed everything laid on the floor in front of the fridge.

“No, he already spent his days off last month because Emmy was sick”, she said and sighed. “Her grandma also was a witch apparently, he didn’t know she would be one too, because her mother isn’t, but she was excited by what he told me this morning, she is excited to find out more about this magical world.”

“I think this is like the dream of every little girl, isn’t it?”

She chuckled, and her voice got quieter, but the connection got better a second later.

“What was that, mom?”

“It’s just, this seems like a fever dream or something.”

She whispered, and I heard incoherent noises on her side of the line.

“Being honest, this isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve heard, the internet is 10x crazier than that.”

She didn’t seem upset at Stephen for hiding this for a whole year, but maybe she didn’t want to talk about it with me or with anyone that is.

She didn’t say anything, and for a moment I’m not sure if she heard it.

“Can you send a photo of the letter?”, I said.

“I’ll send you later, but the classes are supposed to start two weeks from now, so the faster you can take her there, the better.”

“Tell Stephen to get a train ticket for Saturday morning, she’ll be home before dinner time.”

And that’s how I ended up in a dirty and creepy shop called Leaky Cauldron, but Stephen was clear, that was the right place.

“Keep closer to me, okay? We don’t know what kind of people come to a place like this”, I whispered, and she nodded.

With her hands gripping mine, we got in, and it was better than I thought it would be.

For some reason, there were a lot of people there, something I’d never guess from the front alone.

“Look”, Emmy walked in front of me, pulling my hands.

I could see the door we were supposed to find at the very back wall.

The constant chat and movement inside a dead establishment was a shocking contrast. The people inside were… peculiar to say the least, their clothing the first thing I’ve noticed, the capes and the long dark old-fashioned dresses.

She didn’t even fathom all of that, while she walked through the crowd. Her tiny body did little in actually creating space for us, something that I ended up doing.

I could feel the staring as we walked closer to the door, yet the chatting only grew and some started to whisper. It was quite obvious we didn’t belong, nor should a child be inside a bar, nonetheless nobody stopped us. After we got out, the voices stayed behind, and we found another dirty and suspicious place.

“So that’s the wall?”, I said, not amused.

There was trash all over the ground, and I’m sure a rat family lived around those garbage cans.

Emmy went ahead and, as her father said, counted the stones, so no mistakes would be made. Not even 5 seconds later, she pressed one of them. Part of me still waited for nothing to happen, then a camera would appear out of the corner and all of that would be some sort of elaborate joke. But the stones seemed to come to life and, together and synchronized, jumped to the sides until a thin passage appeared right in front of us.

I couldn’t move.

Emmy clapped, elated, as she could barely stay still. “Grandma told us all about this, she said there is an ice cream shop that’s really good and a place with the best cakes in the entire world”, she said it fast and again, pulled me through it.

A second later, the passage closed.

This isn’t a fever dream after all. 

We walked hand in hand through the tiniest space we could find. The traffic in rush hour couldn’t compare to the amount of people gathered there. It seemed like all the witches in London decided to buy their things that day. Huge families and lonely kids walked through us, all different from one another somehow. The buildings were the weirdest, the shapes were all unique and seemed some sort of postmodernism, yet the appearance was… vintage.

“We need to change the money, come on”, I said as she stopped every 15 seconds to stare at something or someone. 

The bank was the fanciest and scariest place I’ve ever been to. It wasn’t on my list to be judged by elves that day, that wasn’t something Stephen prepared me for, but now I could die with something extra special on it. 

Somehow, I thought it would be easier to help a child get school material, but I could feel the headache coming from a mile away after the first 30 minutes. 

“There’s way too many people in there”, I said as we waited outside the last store we were supposed to go in. 

The door was barely closed, as people fought to go in and some to come out. I could see clearly through the shop window, bodies were pressed together and pressed on the glass too. She needed 7 books for this year and I needed to come with a plan to get it before 3 o’clock, or she would be late to take her train back home. 

“Can we wait a bit?”, she said, with a horrified expression. 

“Let’s find a quieter place to stay.”

We walked further down, but there wasn’t any place to sit and there was still a dense crowd. I felt Emmy pulling me towards the weirdest shop of them all. A giant… doll stuck through the high shop window.

“Emmy, there’s too many people in there too.”

It was the opposite of a quiet place. Most of the people coming in and out were kids her age or older with bags and bags full of stuff and a permanent smile on their faces. There was so much noise inside I could hear from far away, but it didn’t bother me at all. I feel at peace there, it was a good atmosphere to be close to, I would give the owners that.

“Dad let me choose whatever I wanted the most to buy, look”, she exclaimed and pulled me closer to the display.

There was so much variety of different colorful boxes and bottles, but the names didn’t give me a single clue of what anything could be, still it was enough for Emmy, and we went inside to “just take a look”, as she said.

“There’s plushies”, she released my hand and ran to the display.

I tried to run after her, but then my legs stopped all of a sudden, even though I didn’t want to. My heart dropped to my stomach and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I leaned on one of the shelves, while people passed through me as if I wasn’t even there.

I could see Emmy clearly, someone was saying something to her and that same someone picked one of the plushies, but it didn’t seem like one at all, it seemed alive. My eyes never left her as I tried to get it together.

Breath in, breath out. Breat—

It wasn’t working.

Emmy waved at me and I gestured for her to come closer, as I didn’t feel like I could move at that moment. I saw her excited expression turn to worry as she came to me carrying one of the pink fluffy things.

“What is it? Are you okay? Headache?”, she took one of my hands as I took a deep breath.

“I fe—

We heard loud gasps and screams.

There was a big commotion happening upstairs as more and more people turned to see what was going on. I could barely see a circle of people, while someone was holding someone else upright.

“Let’s go, Emmy”, I took her hand, and we walked side by side.

I thought for a moment that I was leaving, instead, I walked up to the middle of that hurricane with a will I didn’t know I had, nor the reason for it. Still, every step I took felt right, felt like something more than just being nosy.

Those two people walked down the stairs and the customers made way for them and by the middle of the staircase, I could see their faces. One of them seemed hurt, could barely walk alone, his hands were full of white powder and the right one held the left one tightly, I felt like I was the one hurting.

When they reached the end of the stairs, we were less than 3 feet away.

They passed us and went to the back of the shop, while I stayed still. He had a rose on his collarbone, and I touched the fading scar I forgot about. 

I wanted to follow them, to see if he was alright, to know if there was a way of helping him.

“You got another!”, Emmy held up my right hand.

The borderline of a tiny white rose appeared in a slow motion on my pinky, as if it was drawn handmade by someone, who didn’t want to mess it up. The color was intense, and I felt like it was a real one if I turned to the right angle. Slowly, one by one, the only black-and-gray painted flowers turned to bright-colored ones. It was a sea of light blue orchids and lavender daisies on my arms and white roses and sunflowers on my hands.

Emmy gasped, and I remember to smile like an idiot.

“Go, you have to go and see him”, she poked me in the ribs and pushed me to the direction they went.

“Can yo—”

“Of course I’ll wait, go, go”, she was smiling big and even if I couldn’t see myself, I knew I was smiling just as big. 

I went up to the balcony, then looked around and as soon as I realized no one was paying attention to me, I walked to the back door, but before I could reach the handle, the door opened and he was right in front of me.

My eyes couldn’t leave the now pink rose right below his right shoulder, the one place I didn’t expect to be hurt at while playing around, yet I did so many years ago.

“Good, you don’t have that scar anymore”, he whispered, and I felt goosebumps on my skin.

I looked up to him and his eyes were on my collarbone. Heat crawled up through my body as we made eye contact, I felt breathless yet so energized. The air around us changed, something was pulling me towards him and I could barely hold myself together.

A second later, he hugged me and it was like a weight got off my shoulders.

“Where have you been?”, he asked, and his face was hidden in my hair.

We got as close as possible, but still didn’t feel enough and maybe never would.

“Way too far from here”, I whispered back.

I closed my eyes for a moment and I heard his heartbeat. It was real, he really was with me at that moment and I couldn’t believe it.

“I hate to interrupt a happy couple, but you two are scaring the clients away. At least take her inside, George ”, someone said behind him.

George, that’s his name.

He turned to him, one of his eyebrows raised and lips pressed into a thin line, but his hands didn’t leave my waist. It was his twin, who seemed to be having way too much fun with the situation. The smile was wide on his face and his eyes almost disappeared, yet George wasn’t budging.

“Well, then they are welcome to leave, because I’m not about to hide my love”, he said, and hugged me even tighter.

I hid from the prying eyes on his shoulders.

It was true that people were watching us, and maybe a clever pair of eyes caught our flowers, because a new commotion started, but a bit more discreet than the last.

“…at it, it is so beautiful” “…so, aren’t they cute?”

“Can we go somewhere else?”, I whispered, the redness clear on my face.

“Of course we can, love.”

He let me go, and I noticed how hard that was for him. The moment he took a step away from me, I felt like a part of me stayed with him too.

“I live upstairs”, he said and took my hand and pulled me with him as I looked for Emmy.

“Oh, I came with my step sister and I don’t feel comfortable letting her alone…”, I said as I looked at Emmy and gestured for her to come closer.

“Of course she can come too, did you come in the shop because of her?”, he saw the huge bag Emmy was carrying and the new friend on her shoulder as she came closer.

I nodded.

Emmy looked at us with a Cheshire smile and I was surprised she didn’t say a thing, until I realized she was busy matchmaking the flowers on our skin.

“I have a lot to thank you for, miss”, George said with that same smile on his face.

“It’s true, you two met because of me, soo… how about a payment for that?”, she whispered as her face came a little bit closer.

I watched with a big smile on my face as he laughed so hard he leaned back a bit.

“What can I say… she deserves it, after all, she brought me my soulmate”, he smiled at me and I felt all of the butterflies.

So that’s how it feels like to feel special when your soulmate does nothing more than look at you?

“You don’t have to, you know”, I whispered to him.

“I know, but I want to, besides”, he said and looked over to her. “You’re a smart one, it reminds me of my sister when she was that age”.

“Do you also have a sister?”, I asked, quite surprised as an only child myself.

“Oh, love, I have a lot of them, but we can talk over that upstairs”

“Can I stay? I want to look over the shop, please?”, she said as she pulled her biggest trick, the puppy dog eyes as she looked at me, without blinking.

“I-”

“Fred can look over her”.

“Are you sure? There’s a lot of people here”.

“We have more people working today, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a little special tour”, he said with a smile and ran up to his brother as Emmy squealed.

“It’s getting better and better, you have a good one”, Emmy said to me, her eyes shining in delight.

“Yeah, I think so”.

It did get better for her, because she got that Pygmy Puff for free and a whole beginning school-kit as well, whatever that meant. It was an easy trade, since she got me my soulmate that day and George insisted on going home with me after work hours.

“You saw my world for the first time, it’s fair I see yours, right?”, that was his argument, a valid one.

It surprised me how he never got curious enough to explore it before on his own, but as he told me a bit about the latest years of the Wizarding world, a lot of things started to make sense, including that.

“Did you know it was possible?”, I whispered to him as we cuddled on my sofa.

"I heard about it, but it is rare, I’ve never seen anyone with a soulmate muggle”, his arms held me tighter against his body, our legs intertwined.

“A soulmate what? That doesn’t sound good”, I said and raised my head off his shoulder, looking up to his shining eyes.

“It’s how we call who doesn’t have magical powers, love”, he said softly and his thumb caressed my left cheek and jaw.

He leaned in and kissed me again. We both couldn’t hold in the smiles, too lost in our little bubble to pay any mind to the TV or my cat, who wasn’t there a second ago, but chose to silently observe everything, sat on the floor on the darker corner of the room.

“Love?”, he whispered near my ear.

“Hm?”

“How did you get him again?”, he asked and I noticed him staring at Snuggles, who was quieter than I’ve ever seen before.

“He was alone in the streets, but I don’t really remember when we adopted him, why?”, I asked as I played with his long fingers

“He reminded me of a cat I’ve seen before”.

“Do you know what the species is called? I’ve never seen one like him”, I looked over at him with a fond smile. “He isn’t a fan of new people, but he’s not that shy most of the time”.

“I’ll search it up, but I’m almost sure Emmy is not your first contact with the Wizarding World”

“How, do you have magical cats or something?”, I looked up to him, who grinned wide at me.

I sighed.

“Guess I have some magic powers after all, I’m great at finding hurt, lonely and orange fluffy heads wandering around”

“Did you just call me fluffy head?”, the disapproval and disgust clear in his voice.

“What can I say, honey, you do need a hairbrush right now”, I laughed as I tried to conceal his messy hair.

“You do not dare to touch me after insulting me like that, woman”, he said with a dramatic expression of hurt and betrayal as he held my wrist away from his head.

“But you’re so adorable like this, George”, I cooed at him and took his face into my hands.

“Adorable? Adorable?”, his tone higher. “I- You better stop being so cute, I can’t handle it”, he said as he giggled and hid his face on my shoulder.

Did I just break him?

In these 5 hours we’ve been together, he carried himself with an impressive confidence, flirtier as time passed, something I wanted to learn from him, but right now, it seems like I cracked the code.

I could see a tint of red on his cheeks and a proud smile appeared on my face.

“What? Can’t I call you cute? Hm? Adorable?”

He mumbled something against my skin, and I felt goosebumps, then his smile against my neck.

“Do you like that, love?”

The shyness seemed to evaporate from him in the blink of an eye and I knew that that would be the night I’d find out what happened when you tease George Weasley. 

[vigilskeep]

please tell me more about hawke’s anxiety meter, I’m new here and I need the lore

so if you’re new enough here to not know my favouritest boy, keir hawke is my usual hawke, he’s a red (aggressive/blunt) personality reaver who romances anders, very much leans into the fereldan dog lord archetype, extremely bluntly threatening with strangers and extremely bluntly affectionate with the people he cares about

his entire job in life as he sees it is to protect his people. unfortunately, he has been landed with some of the hardest people to protect in the entire world. you understand how this might be distressing when this is the one thing he’s for and he has, in his eyes, failed badly before. so when i say the anxiety meter, i basically just mean the tally i’m keeping in my head of how threatened he feels those people are right now, especially if it’s a threat that feels very personally dangerous to him or has been relevant to his failures to protect before. (the anxiety meter can also be upped if people ask him to engage in a Social Situation. fortunately this does not happen much, presumably because people have met him.) i don’t actually keep a measure in my head jgshsjsksk i’m just kind of aware whether we’re high or low as i play

things that are most likely to affect the meter:

certain enemy types; this is usually darkspawn, because, you know, they killed his little brother, and also he was at fucking ostagar. and templars, which are a direct threat for obvious reasons

a companion goes down in combat

after a childhood in the open fereldan countryside, moving from town to town when in danger, locations where he feels he can’t escape are Bad. unfortunately, this applies to All Of Kirkwall, so as long as we’re in the city we’re never at a zero

dealing with people he personally dislikes or fears. this is rarer than people think, because he usually just has a broad wariness to strangers rather than it being personal, but say marethari as an example for someone he dislikes or meredith for someone he fears

situations that can’t be resolved in the violent and efficient way he prefers, where a threat is left hovering. this is why the three years as a champion without being able to do anything with abt meredith were probably the worst time in his life

anyway it’s just how i sort of decide how he responds to things and whether i think he’s still up for asking questions and the occasional blue/diplomatic response. it has led to some memorably bad decisions on his part, like his disastrous experience in the legacy dlc. he can usually get persuaded to back off if a companion says something—i remember specifically an instance where sebastian narrowly convinced him not to kill someone—but if left to his own devices in a high stress area he’s going to act the way he acts, as someone who in game canon dialogue threatens to rip people’s throats out