#i am very soft for them i fear 🥺

[officialspec]

can you pleeeeease post your dm sexuality/gender hcs on here.... 🥺 i don't have a twitter but i wanna know. it's like a pandora's box to me now i'm like scratching at the door. let me in

heres the link 2 the thread (mild spoilers btw) ill post a transcript under the cut for ppl who dont have twitter

first off i think laios relationship to sex is super removed for like 50 reasons without even getting into his actual sexuality

he grew up in a place with very repressed ideas about sex and has a lot of fear about asserting his presence in situations

his special interest takes precedent over any social interactions he has and the level of closeness he feels towards people

he has a hard time figuring out his feelings towards other people both bc hes autistic and bc he has freaky deviantart fetishes that make sex in his mind a very abstract concept <- this one is me projecting mostly

that aside, i feel like gender-wise hes attracted to ppl so infrequently it may as well be entirely case-by-case

the idea of him being gay appeals to me from the 'raised with traditional values he Does Not fit into/hasnt begun to question it yet' perspective, i lauve characters who put a lot of stock into performing a role thats expected of them and fail miserably for unknown (gay) reasons

from his perspective tho i dont think he would ever really label himself anything. hes going to pride parades in the shirt+shorts Ally Fit to clap for his friends

hes also 'cis by indifference' imo... i love tmasc laios hcs it just doesnt mesh w his personal history to me. i do think hes got some kind of therian gender thing going on (not trans or nb but a secret third thing) but i cant see him changing anything abt his appearance/pronouns to accommodate that post-canon. hes just doin his thang

falin is in a similar boat for gender. i LOOVE tfem falin but the village repression thing has been bugging at me so i dont think i subscribe to it anymore (canon purist sorry) BUT if u hold that hc i am clapping and cheering regardless

instead i was propagandised to a while back and i LOVEEE the idea that being fused w a male dragon and the residual traits she has after being revived have given her a type of gender euphoria she didnt realise she was missing. a little boygirl swagger if u will

sexuality-wise i also dont think she would care to label herself, shes a lesbian by virtue of only being interested in One woman and zero other people. without marcille i do think shes still exclusively attracted to women, and i like to imagine she might experiment around a bit during her travels post-canon (pre-relationship). hearing abt it might put marcille on the news though

marcille is very simple That is a transfem lesbian. she cant get pregnant, shes obsessed w being femme and all that combined w her half-tallman struggles to be seen as 'properly feminine' by elf standards reads very transfeminine to Me. also her bookboy crush REEKS of comphet its not subtle

i think a more comfortable marcy might have the space to experiment w being elf butch like her manga boys but thats mainly self indulgence for me. utena could have saved her

senshi is gay his whole thing is abt not being able to perform dwarven masculinity to a proper standard (soft hearted, not as strong or rugged as his peers) which is like gaycoding 101. also hes a bear. homosexuality be damned by boy can work a grill

adding onto this i rly think senshi got some type of euphoria from being an elf in the changeling chapters. he was feeling himself so much i think he was using it as an outlet to have fun being a little fem and fruity without needing to justify it. do u understand

i dont have any particular opinions abt him gender-wise beyond that. his bulge is an essential part of his character design but i also saw a transmasc senshi a couple days ago that made me nod my head thoughtfully so i could go either way

chilchuck is cis and bisexual this is just canon. not even just his old man crush on senshi altho i do think thats very funny but they put his ass on a cover themed like hes in a dating sim with all the men and women in the cast and then slapped it in front of a chapter called "bicorn". i simply cant pass up that kind of overt signaling. its so fucking funny what else is there to say truly

izu to ME is a transmasc aroace lesbian (this one has the least basis in canon i just know it to be true) shes a little genderfluid with it nd uses he/she i think. i like to imagine she consistently uses masculine personal pronouns to refer to herself either way tho (boku, ore)

i think izutsumis gender/sexuality is entirely secondary in priorities to her body dysphoria. she has a lot of learning and acceptance 2 do before that kind of self discovery is on the docket and in my mind eschewing gender on some level is part of that. get sillay

shuro is cishet but at least he feels bad about it. next

kabru is a transmasc bisexual this is also practically text. his whole thing of being treated like a doll by milsiril to put in pretty dresses, plus i think it would be pretty easy for him to stealth in the west since tallmen are seen as inherently more masculine than elves

(i also think changing genders is just more common for elves. theyre androgynous enough that it wouldnt be hard and like who in their right miiiiind would be the same gender for 500 years. dwarves too)

i think he started presenting as male socially in the west but didnt need to consider medical transition until he moved to a more mixed culture where other races might see him as a woman

i dont have to explain the bisexual part. have u seen him

namari is a butch bisexual this is just canon straight up. shes not transmasc but i think the default settings for dwarven women is like 4 years of T regardless. shes a hit at all the local cruising spots despite her renfaire nerdisms i know this

and just bc im thinking abt em kiki and kaka are identical and kiki is tfem :} theyre both attracted to women but kaka is a sub so i forgive him

THATS ALL 4 NOW theres a lot of characters so i cant have thoughts abt all of them at once but i hope this was good. im right about everything forever as per usual

[cambion-companion]

whenever you have time, i NEED you to write something based on that ask you got about vhagar being super attached to aemond's girl 🥺

These requests are from November, so yes I am still working on the messages I have received! Thank you for them :)

I would love to expound more upon Vhagar bonding with the reader (you) especially after you and Aemond get married. The idea of dragons being intelligent enough to feel/recognize the bonds their riders have with other people is something I'd love to be canonized.

When Aemond could not find you within the walls of the Red Keep or honing your body in the training courtyard, he knew by now you were well outside the confines of King’s Landing, spending quality time with your newest best friend.

“I thought I would find you out here.”

You looked up with a smile at Aemond’s familiar velvet voice.  Your back was pressed against the iron dragonskin of Vhagar’s neck, a book of Targaryen history propped open upon your knees as you had been regaling the dragon with tales she would’ve been well familiar with.

“I needed to escape the stuffy sitting room for a while.” You agreed, feeling the rumbling purr growing within Vhagar as she acknowledged her rider’s presence.

You scooted into Aemond’s embrace as he took a seat on the soft earth beside you, peering briefly at the book you had been reading. “And what does Vhagar think about today’s reading material?”

You looked sideways up along the endless expanse of Vhagar’s neck to where her yellow eye watched the two of you.  You caught Aemond’s eye with a smirk. “No complaints so far.”

“Hmm.”  Aemond took the book from you, closing and setting it aside before taking your hands in his.  He leaned into your space, brushing his nose against yours before finding your lips in a chaste kiss. “One day I’m going to seek you out and find you’ve taken her out for a ride.”

Your heart stuttered in mild fear at the very thought. “That’ll be the day.”  You laughed as Aemond breathed a soft chuckle, tucking your head beneath his chin, his warm breath rustling your hair.

He held you for many moments as you basked in the warmth of his body and the continual rumbling of Vhagar as she shifted slightly at your back.

The three of you were alerted to the sound of many hooves thundering upon the earth as several riders cleared the hill.  Upon seeing the massive island-sized dragon laying before them their horses reared in fear, nearly sending several soldiers toppling to the ground.  Vhagar’s head became visible from your periphery as she growled low and deep, moving to position her snarling teeth in between where you and Aemond sat and the newcomers.

“Vhagar, gida.”  Aemond calmed the dragon with a word, though Vhagar did not move her head from its defensive position.

Aemond gave you a strange look which you mirrored right back at him. “Has she acted like this before?”

You shook your head, glancing to where you could see the sun glinting off dragon teeth the length of a man’s body.

“My prince!”  The leading rider called, unwilling to come any closer. “The king requests your presence at once!”

“Duty calls.”  Aemond sighed, rising to stand and brushing sand off his clothing. “Would you like to remain here or accompany me back to the city?”

You took his proffered hand and he helped you rise to your feet. “I’ll come back with you.”

At your movements Vhagar grumbled another deep sound of displeasure, her tail this time slithering around to block your path forward, even separating you from where Aemond stood.

“Vhagar!”  Aemond said almost reproachfully, looking to where Vhagar’s gaze was still fixated on the soldiers.  He shook his silver head in annoyance. “Seems she has become incorrigibly possessive of you overnight.”

“Vhagar.”  You called to the ancient she-dragon gently.  The yellow eye flicked briefly to you. “Nyke ȳgha.”  She seemed to relax at your Valyrian reassurance, allowing you to take Aemond’s hand again and proceed closer to where the soldiers waited.

“I haven’t a clue what’s gotten into her.”  You muttered to your husband.

Aemond shook his head in agreement as he glanced back toward where Vhagar still was growling low. “Perhaps she decided to take you on as a sort of dragonling…” He stopped mid-stride, color draining from his face as he turned to face you. “A child.”

“I am hardly her child, Aemond.”  You snickered, your smile dropping when his expression remained serious. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you…” Aemond shot a look to where the riders were obviously trying to listen in, he lowered his voice and leaned closer to you. “Are you with child?”

Your stomach swooped as shock coursed through you. “I-I don’t know.”

“Let’s pay a visit to the maester after dealing with whatever my brother wants.”  Aemond squeezed your hand briefly, unable to keep an excited grin off his angular face. He looked again at Vhagar, this time in mild wonder.  The grumbles and groans of the dragon faded away as the riders escorted the two of you back to the Keep.

Nine months later the kingdom welcomed the birth of their newest Targaryen princess.  

She grew to be very much like her father, in mannerisms and visage.  When she was old enough Aemond didn’t waste any time in introducing her to Vhagar.  

The old dragon seemed to already know who she was.

[weemssapphic]

Good evening, my internet-lawfully wedded wife. I would like to request that Hanahaki Phasma story please? 🥺🥺🥺

Hello 💖 Thanks for the request, lovely 🥺 I finally had an idea for how to write this and I am very happy with how it turned out - and nervous as I've never written for Phasma before. I hope you like it, regardless of the angst 🥺 Thank you to @dianneking for beta-ing and helping me with the title, it means a lot 🫶🏼

Forget-me-not

Captain Phasma x f!reader

Summary: Of all the people you could’ve fallen in love with, it had to be Captain Phasma. Could your love for her be your death sentence?

Words: ~3.1k | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: Hanahaki disease trope, angst, no happy ending, mentions of blood + death, character death, briefly nsfw (light smut - minors DNI)

Icy blue eyes stare deeply into your own, pale pink lips are curled up into a devilish, seductive smirk. Phasma’s face is flushed and her pupils are dilated as she watches you come undone above her, bucking your hips against her and coating her abdomen in your arousal as you chase your high.

You’ve had sex with Phasma a handful of times now, which is strange in and of itself. You’ve heard plenty of stories about her since starting with the First Order – stories of one-night stands, lovers being used, abused, and discarded – threatened into silence, fired, even disappearing.

It would be dangerous to assume that you’re special – that you somehow mean more to Phasma than the other women she’s slept with. No one means anything to Phasma, that is one thing she has made abundantly clear. Phasma is the only person who means anything to Phasma. Everyone else is disposable, a means to an end – in this case, the end being her own sexual pleasure.

But then why has she let you into her bed time and time again? At first, she was demanding and dominating, relentless; taking, taking, taking. You cried during your first time with her – you were so overstimulated, yet she wouldn’t let up, and she punished you any time you tried to touch her. After that, you feared you’d be discarded like the rest – but then it happened again. And again. And then, one night, Phasma even allowed you to touch her. Watching the Captain Phasma reach the height of her pleasure on your fingers was something akin to a religious experience – you were ready to worship the woman, to give your soul over to her after hearing her moan and feeling her body shudder against your own. She’d taken her helmet off for the first time that night as well – you were immediately struck by her beauty. The planes of her face had a softness to them that had thrown you off-guard, her eyes – blue, oh so blue, oceans you could drown in – felt hypnotizing as they pierced your own. She’d been reluctant at first, but somehow – somehow – you’d managed to convince her – it must get quite hot and uncomfortable under that helmet after all. After the threat of torture methods that you hadn’t even heard of, ensuring you would never so much as think of telling a soul about seeing the great Captain without her helmet, she’d revealed her face to you.

And now, looking down at that charismatic, captivating smirk through the lustful haze of your fourth orgasm, you know you’ve gone and made the most fatal error you could possibly make.

You’ve fallen in love with Captain Phasma.

~~~

And what a fatal error, indeed.

After your latest rendezvous in Phasma’s quarters, you see her next at training the following morning. The bright fluorescent lights bounce off the chrome of her armor, flawlessly polished – though your mind is rather stuck on what lies underneath. Silken blonde locks, slicked back to emphasize her cheekbones, the curve of her jaw. Long, muscular arms and large, slender hands; rock-hard abs and legs that seem to go on for miles, with thick thighs that you can’t help but picture wrapping around your head. After seeing the fearsome Captain outside of her armor, you fear you can never unsee it – and you’ll always be left wanting, yearning for more.

Perhaps there would be a way to convince her that you’re worth more than a quick fuck – you can’t stop thinking about those strong arms wrapping around your waist in your post-coital haze, fingertips tenderly caressing your bare flesh as soft lips press chaste kisses all over your face. You would look into her eyes – which would fill with affection – and tell her you love her, and she would say it back with a smile on her face.

Cough.

You’re caught by surprise at the sound that bubbles forth from your chest, tickling your throat.

“FN-196, is something the matter?”

Phasma’s voice is cool and collected – dangerous. You shouldn’t have made a peep – but you can’t help it. Another cough tickles the back of your throat and forces its way out – you try to stifle it but that just makes the coughing fit worse.

“N-no-“ cough “I’m sorry-” cough “It w-wo-“ cough “It won’t happen again, Captain.”

You clear your throat awkwardly and straighten your back as Phasma stalks towards you, stopping right in front of you. She’s inches away from your face, though she’s tall enough that you’d have to crane your head back just a bit to look up at her. You don’t – you think she might kill you if you do, so you look straight ahead at your reflection in her armor.

She looks down at you for a moment, her head tilted ever so slightly – you wish you knew what she was thinking. Does she really hold any shred of affection for you, does she favor you at all? Or is she plotting the quickest way to dispose of you?

“One more sound and I’ll have you scrubbing TIE fighters all weekend.”

Merciful.

You nod curtly. “Yes, Captain.” You don’t dare say anything else.

~~~

After your little coughing fit, you briefly worry that you’ve caught a cold. You seem to be in the clear, however – you don’t cough again after that, not for a few days.

But then it happens again, as you’re walking past Phasma in the corridor. One moment you’re fine, the next you look up and see her walking towards you. You come to a halt and step aside to allow her to pass, a sign of respect. She affords you the smallest of nods – an acknowledgement that makes you swoon – and that’s when it happens. You cough, more violently this time, as though your lungs have run out of air and are shriveling up as a result.

Phasma stops in her tracks and turns towards you, staring. Waiting for the coughing to stop. It does, eventually, and you feel your cheeks burn. You know she can’t see it underneath your helmet, but you’re certain she can sense your embarrassment in the way your shoulders droop and your hands begin to fidget as you stutter out an apology.

“Are you ill?”

“N-no, Captain, I don’t think so.” You shuffle from foot to foot – you can feel another coughing fit coming on, and you really don’t want Phasma to be around for that. “Just a tickle, must’ve breathed in some dust.” Right. Through your helmet. As if Phasma would believe that.

She hums, giving you a once over. You squirm.

“Good.”

She turns and starts to walk away. “Come to my quarters tomorrow night.”

Your heart flutters as you watch her round the corner, disappearing from view.

Cough.

~~~

“Mmh, oh- f-fuck,” you mewl, as Phasma’s hips slam into yours at a brutal pace, her dildo disappearing inside of you as she thrusts the entire length into your cunt. A bead of sweat collects at her temple, rolling slowly down her flushed cheek. Her hair sticks to her forehead, falling into her eyes – hungry eyes that devour you as she ravishes you. Her lips are parted to let out quiet grunts, her abs ripple with exertion and her biceps flex as she holds herself above you.

Your eyes roll back in your head as the dildo reaches deep inside of you – your breath quickens and you feel a guttural moan tear from your throat as your orgasm hits you, your walls clenching around Phasma’s cock. She’s relentless – she doesn’t let up, fucking you through your orgasm and even after, as you sink into the mattress and try desperately to regulate your breathing.

Phasma reaches her own peak and tumbles over it, and it’s a glorious sight. Her jaw goes slack and her eyelids fall shut, a broken moan slips past her lips. Her entire body trembles a bit and her hips stutter in their movements. The fact that she can get off by watching you cum is incredibly arousing to you, and it makes you feel special.

She removes the harness and the dildo and tosses it on the floor beside the bed, before lying down next to you – not to cuddle, no, never to cuddle – just to rest for a moment and recover from her orgasm. You turn your head to glance over at her. Her eyes are shut, allowing you to admire her openly. She’s breathing heavily, her cheeks are red, her forehead is sweaty. She looks heavenly, divine even.

You wish she would let you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her close. You wish she would let you feel her lips against your own. You wish she would let you card your fingers through her hair and caress her jaw and tell her how much you love her, and you wish she would say it back. You wish-

Cough.

Oh no. Not again.

Phasma’s eyes shoot open and she looks over at you, raising an eyebrow. You avoid her gaze as your lungs constrict and you cough again, and again. Something tickles your throat – it’s as if something is stuck there. You cough harder – it has to come out. Covering your mouth, you cough again, and feel something soft hit your palm.

A small, blue flower petal. Your eyes widen in horror as you stare at the petal in your hand.

No. No, no, no, no. It can’t be. It can’t-

“What is that?” Phasma asks. Her brows are knit together and she cranes her neck to try and get a look.

“N-nothing” cough “it’s nothing.”

But Phasma isn’t one for playing games. Long, slender fingers curl around your wrist, vice-like in their strength – a snake devouring its prey, and she forces you to show her what you’ve coughed up.

Her upper lip twitches.

A billion micro-expressions cross her face, too quickly for you to place any one of them. When she looks you in the eyes a moment later, her face is devoid of any expression at all.

“It’s time you leave. Don’t be late for training tomorrow.”

You don’t need to be told twice – the hard edge to her voice scares you, so you clamber out of her bed and dress as quickly and as quietly as you can, your cheeks burning as you feel Phasma watching your every move. You hurry to leave, leaving the flower petal nestled among the sheets.

Phasma stares at it as you leave. She knows what it means. She’s no fool – she’s seen the way you look at her, how eager you are to please her – both in work and in sex.

An intense, burning rage fills Phasma - her insides suddenly feel like molten lava, her heart pounds viciously. If you die, Phasma will lose one of her best stormtroopers - and one of her best lovers. And you will die, if it's Phasma you’re in love with.

It’s not that she doesn’t want to love you back. There’s a reason she’s let you warm her bed for so long, after all. You’re skilled with your tongue, certainly, and you look so enticing when you’re being fucked into oblivion. But there’s something else – something Phasma doesn’t quite understand, something she’s never felt before. It’s not love, at least she doesn’t think it is – it’s nothing like how other people describe love, a feeling that Phasma doesn’t ever recall feeling.

But it’s something, and it’s been so long since Phasma has felt anything. Around you, in those brief moments after sex just before she kicks you out of her bed, she feels just a little lighter. Her usual anger is subdued, a dying ember where there’s usually a roaring flame.

It’s not enough, though. She knows this. She knows you know this – you must know this.

You’re a fool – a damned fool – Phasma thinks. Only an idiot would fall in love with her.

~~~

As is to be expected, your illness gets worse. You begin to disrupt training with your coughing – Phasma finds this annoying as is, but what she finds even more annoying is the unfamiliar sense of guilt that gnaws at her stomach, knowing she’s the cause of your… distress.

She dismisses you from training – the others will get suspicious, and your performance is lacking anyway. It’s best if you stay in your quarters.

She goes to check on you one day, in the middle of the night. Briefly, she wonders if she should have come at a more reasonable hour, but then she hears the coughing through your door and she knows you haven’t been able to fall asleep yet anyway.

You answer the door, your eyes bleary and your face pale. There’s blood trickling down your chin and a few small, crushed flower petals cling to the sweaty fabric of your nightgown. And yet, you smile at her. She tilts her head – why are you smiling? You’re a fool – a damned fool.

“It’s progressed then?” she asks. The modulator in her helmet keeps her voice level, and for that she is grateful.

Your eyes fill with sadness but your smile – soft, gentle – never wavers. You nod and open your mouth to speak, but you’re interrupted by another coughing fit, and bloody flower petals spill out of your mouth and onto Phasma’s boots.

Phasma looks down at the stained chrome, then back up at you.

“I-I’m” cough “sorry” wheeze “I-I’ll c-clean it-“

“Leave it.”

Your eyes widen and your cheeks redden, but you don’t dare argue.

Phasma turns her head to the right, then to the left. The corridor is empty. She takes a step towards you, into your quarters, until she’s nearly flush against you. Lifting her hands to her head, she removes her helmet, and cool blue eyes pierce your own. Your smile is back now, and she doesn’t understand – in fact, it makes her a little uncomfortable. A smile like that has rarely been directed at her (even if there is blood dribbling down your chin and your eyes are slightly unfocused) – it takes all her willpower to maintain eye contact.

“You shouldn’t have fallen in love with me.” Her tone is lacking noticeably in bite, though neither of you acknowledge this fact.

“I know.”

Cough.

“You’ll die.”

“I know.”

Wheeze.

Phasma’s lip twitches and her eyes dart between your own. Your smile is steady and true, even as your eyes fill with tears.

Phasma knows what she should say – what anyone else in her position would say. ‘I’m sorry’. Except she can’t say it, because she isn’t. Is she? She’s unsure – she’s never actually felt sorry for anything, not even for betraying her own family. Why should some random woman, a subordinate of hers at that, change that?

She remains silent. She nods curtly. You stifle another cough as you nod back, blinking slowly – it appears as though, somehow, you understand. As though you know that Phasma even bothering to show up in your quarters at all before your body leaves this galaxy is nothing short of a goddamn miracle.

“You d-don’t h-have” cough “to love me b-back. Just d-don’t” cough “for-forget me.”

You chuckle. Phasma doesn’t think it’s funny. She blinks, puts her helmet back on.

“Goodnight, FN-196.”

She doesn’t spare you another glance as she leaves.

~~~

Early one morning, Phasma is called to your quarters – as your superior, if something has happened, she needs to be informed.

And Phasma immediately knows what’s happened. Underneath her helmet, her eyes scan your body – limp, pale, covered in blood and flower petals. Even worse off than the last time she saw you. Usually, such a gory sight stirs up a sort of crazed bloodlust deep within Phasma’s soul, a gleeful sort of giddiness. Only now, when it’s you covered in blood and sweat, unmoving, she feels no such thing.

Her lips curl into a frown – wrong way, wrong way, she should be smiling! She shouldn’t be upset!

Sometimes, when one is confronted with death, they regret. They think of all the things they wished they’d said, they wish for one more moment with the person they care for.

Phasma doesn’t regret. She knows she couldn’t have told you how she feels about you anyway. How does she feel about you? Perhaps, she could have told you that when she’s with you, she feels for the first time. But would that have been enough to save you? No, probably not. And perhaps it’s better this way. It would have gotten messy – Phasma doesn’t mix work and relationships (only casual sex, only ever casual sex, only with people who are disposable). She’s not even sure she was built for a relationship – in fact, she’s certain she wasn’t.

So, no, Phasma doesn’t wish for one more moment with you in which she would profess her undying love (is she capable of such a thing?) and see the bright smile on your face when you realize your affection is returned. But her heart does ache a little – just a little twinge, really, in a very foreign sort of way – and, when she thinks of never feeling your silken skin under her fingertips again, her stomach twists.

The stormtrooper tilts his head. “What should I do with her, Captain?”

Phasma’s gaze never leaves your body, even as she’s addressed directly. What should one do with you? The thought of doing anything at all makes her heart clench.

But she can’t show weakness.

She can’t.

She swallows thickly. Discreetly.

Blinks twice.

Then her face hardens. The stormtrooper can’t see it underneath her helmet anyway, but it’s part of her mask. She has to play the part if she’s going to keep the respect of her troops. Self-preservation has always been vital to her, after all.

“Take her away.”

The stormtrooper shrugs and slings your body over his shoulder, before carrying you out of the room – carelessly, like a doll. Phasma grits her teeth – you should be treated like a precious thing, carried bridal style and showered with kiss- no. What is she thinking? You’re nothing but a corpse now, it hardly matters how your body is treated. Except, for some reason, it matters a lot to Phasma, though she cannot let on to that.

She waits.

She waits until the door closes and the footsteps of the stormtrooper’s boots against the cold metal floor fade.

Her gaze falls to the floor where, amongst a few droplets of blood, a single, tiny, blue forget-me-not petal rests.

A single tear drips down her cheek, catching on the inside of her helmet.

x

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[silens-oro]

My Lady

Osferth x f!Dane!reader

Synopsis: Feeling are requited and Osferth takes the leap of faith.

Word Count: 5,994

Content Warning: 18+, battle, blood, gore, wounds, mention of slavery, mention of being a bed slave, mentions of religion. this is so soft 🥺

AN: idk man it’s always loving Osferth hours in this house. This was posted on my phone so the layout might be a little wonky.

No mention of “y/n”

“Lord,” Osferth choked out as Uhtred entered the tent. You pushed the cloth against the wound in his abdomen to stem the flow of blood. He gasped in pain, clenching at the furs under him. “Did you see me fight?”

“I did,” Uhtred responded, surveying the injury. “You fought bravely.” Osferth gave a weak nod of his head.

“Am I going to die, Lord?” Osferth asked after a brief moment of silence. His eyes were directed to the top of the tent, wincing with each press from your working hands. “I do not fear it.”

“No. I forbid it,” Uhtred placed a gentle hand on Osferth’s chest. Uhtred looked down to you and you nodded with a sigh. One of your hands moved up to grasp Osferth's. He squeezed back, though it was weak.

“If we can get him into a wagon and deliver him to Lady Aethelflaed’s estate -and should a fever not set- he will live to see the next battle.” You assured Uhtred, though you were not entirely confident. You kept the negative thoughts to yourself.

“You hear that? You shall spark fear into the hearts of Danes once more, Baby Monk.” Finan joked from behind you, bringing a pained smile to the monk’s face as you swung an arm back to hit Finan in the stomach. The man grunted and moved backwards to save himself from a second blow.

“He will need plenty of furs to stay warm. We need to move quickly,” You called to Sihtric who nodded from his place at the entrance of the healing tent and left to ready the wagon without question.

The tent cleared as everyone saw Osferth was in good hands. This left you, Finan, and Osferth as the sole occupants.

“Help me sit him up,” You directed Finan. “I need to wrap him securely before we leave. Finan nodded and did as was instructed. Osferth tried to keep his groans of agony to himself, but the pain was so severe that shouts left his lips before he could stop them.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” You tried to soothe him with a palm cupping his sharp jawline. Osferth leaned his cheek into it naturally, looking for any comfort he could get. Your hands worked quickly to wrap the cloth around the makeshift bandage just under his ribs. Once you were happy with your work, you brought his shirt back down and returned the furs to keep him warm.

“Gently,” You instructed Finan as he guided Osferth back onto his cot by his shoulders. The monk’s hand sought yours out as he settled. “Rest,” You gently pushed the sweaty hair from his forehead. “I will stay with you until we are ready to leave.” Osferth nodded with a soft tilt of his lips, closed his eyes, and succumbed to the darkness for rest. Finan waited a few moments, making sure the Baby Monk’s chest was rising and falling with slowed, sleeping breaths before he spoke.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” Finan’s grin was wider than you had ever seen it. Shooting the Irishman with a pointed glare, you made sure your threat was loud and clear.

“Say another word and you will not have eyes to deceive you.” You promised, grunting as you stood from your kneeling position on the ground. You didn’t bother trying to clean the mud from the knees of her breeches. They were soaked in blood and other more vile liquids that spilled on a battlefield. Mud was the least of your worries.

“I am merely an observer.” He held his hands up in mock surrender. “He’s fond of you.” You rolled your eyes, wiping your hands with a discarded rag. “And you are fond of him if I’m to believe what I’m seeing?”

“The man could very well be on his deathbed, Finan. The last thing he needs right now is your meddling.” Finan took a few steps closer with a thick brow raised.

“If I was lyin’ as he is now, would you hold my hand too?” He baited.

“I’d hold a pillow over your face and be free of your endless torment.” You replied with a smirk. Of course he was right. You knew this and absolutely hated it.

“Ah! My point is proven!” Finan’s grin softened the longer he looked between the sleeping monk and yourself. “This isn’t a bad thing.” He whispered with a gentle shrug of his shoulders. “You’ll chew up the poor lad and spit him out, but there are worse ways to die…you could make this work.” Your stomach turned in anxiety. There seemed to be some truth in Finan’s words, otherwise he wouldn’t be fighting so hard for you to take the proverbial leap into the unknown. Still, the walls around your heart were fortified. You hadn’t laid with a man willingly since before your enslavement, and the idea of giving yourself physically and emotionally to anybody filled you with a certain kind of dread that was all encompassing.

You did not speak to anyone other than Uhtred and Gisela about your year as a bed slave and you were sure the rest of the group knew something, but they were not privy to the details. You wanted to keep it that way.

If Osferth knew how deep the rot festered, how ruined you had truly been, he would want nothing to do with you -you were sure of it. Your stomach clenched painfully once more and it was decided that if you did not take the chance, he would never look at you differently. Things would stay just as they were.

“Finan,” You shot him a warning look. “I’m sure you can find some other poor souls to play matchmaker on. Outside. And make sure the wagon is ready while you’re at it.”

“Alright, alright. I can take a hint.” He dodged a bowl that was aimed at his head as he ran from the tent with a laugh. Now that you had the tent to yourself and the sleeping monk, you sighed heavily and looked down at him resting peacefully. A few tears fell freely.

You will not be tainted by me, you thought.

The gray sky was moving above Osferth when he opened his eyes. His body rocked back and forth within the back of the wagon he had been safely placed in for transport to Saltwic.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Baby Monk.” Finan said with a laugh. Osferth smiled back at the Irishman before his eyes naturally found yours. Riding your horses to Finan’s left, Osferth’s right, it took everything to not give into the temptation to kick the Irishman off of his steed and into the bushes on his other side. Osferth’s smile softened into something that could be described as adoration the longer his gaze stayed on you. A pang twisted in your heart, but you returned the smile all the same.

Finan caught your eyes and he shot you a look that clearly said ‘You see? I am not wrong.’ Osferth’s eyes were questioning as Finan nudged his horse to move up to Uhtred at the front of the group to give you privacy.

“Pay the idiot no mind,” You reassured Osferth with a gentle smile. “Relax. We should arrive at Lady Aethelfled’s estate by nightfall. They’ll be able to fix you up better than I can.”

“Your efforts do not go unappreciated, my lady,” Osferth stared up at you, openly and without a care, as he spoke raspily. He noted that you looked exhausted. Your hair was loose from the twists and braids it was in previously to keep it tamed in battle. Your right eye was shadowed with the deep bruising of a black eye, a deep, painful looking cut marred the left side of your upper lip and small scratches and bruises littered your face, but you had never looked more beautiful to Osferth as you did in that moment.

He thought of how you fought your way to him and pulled him to safety when he was sure to die on that battlefield. The sheer strength of you in the heat of battle was truly a sight to behold. He knew then, as he lay in the back of that wagon, that he loved you.

It had to be love.

Even in the clutches of death, it felt like he was floating every time he looked upon you. A pagan woman who was so different from him, in life and in constitution, who was deemed his enemy in principle alone had enraptured him. You were not the heathen monster he had been taught about as he grew up within the monastery. You were a survivor in a cruel world that had only shown you pain and misery. Osferth knew that in your world -a world he was trying desperately to acclimate himself to- you persevered or you perished. You adapted to everything that had been thrown your way, and came out victorious at every turn.

You were everything Osferth wished he could be, what his own convictions would never allow him to truly be. He admired you, deeply and wholly. You were not a soft lady, wilting at the thought of impropriety -though that is what he was taught what a lady should be. Modest, God-fearing, dutiful, quiet were not descriptors that corresponded with you. Dutiful, maybe, but not in the sense of what standard Saxon women were held to.

Your hands were rough and calloused, Osferth noted when you held his hand in the tent, from a lifetime with a sword in your hands. If it was the last you were to touch him, he would have the feeling engraved in his memory. He could vividly remember how those very hands felt as his cheek was nestled in your palm to comfort him and it nearly took his breath away then. The feeling of your skin upon his felt as natural as breathing air into his lungs.

Osferth could feel the heat rising within his cheeks at the thought. He closed his eyes once more and let the rocking of the wagon lull him to sleep lest he make a complete fool out of himself.

��You care for him,” It was more of a statement than a question. The group had made its way into the safety of the estate in the cover of night. The healers immediately took Osferth to be worked on the moment the wagon wheels came to a halt. Now, as the first pink rays of the morning sun were just starting to peek over the horizon, he was asleep in a healing room with you watching over him dutifully.

Your legs stretched out before you as you teetered in your chair. Clean breeches rubbed against your skin. A much needed bath and a change of clothing could make a world of a difference. You threw a side-eye at Uhtred as he approached your side to look upon the sleeping monk.

“You’ve been conspiring with Finan?” A grin grew on Uhtred’s lips at your accusation.

“No,” He said simply with a chuckle. “Your affections are not subtle, my friend.”

“No…they are not.” You stated plainly, looking over at Osferth’s resting form. You knew he would be okay, but the stress within you still lingered unpleasantly.

His eyes were closed, face relaxed as he slept soundly. Lady Aethelfled’s healers had cleaned and stitched up Osferth’s wound, and gave him a tea that would allow him to sleep so he could rebuild his strength. His steady, deep breaths were a comfort.

Uhtred’s hand rested on your shoulder. He squeezed gently in reassurance.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of.” He said softly as to not disturb Osferth. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d open up, and with a monk no less, but you have my support. Always.” He grinned at you, but his lips quickly downturned when you looked anything but happy. Uhtred came around to kneel in front of you.

“I thank you for your blessing, Uhtred, but it does not matter.” You replied with a heavy sigh. “I cannot allow myself to sully him.” Your voice was soft, the emotion behind the words was nothing Uhtred had heard from you in many years of service you had given to him. “We could not be any more different.” You looked down at her hands clasped in her lap, thumb tracing the deep blue hues of the rune tattooed within your left palm. “I’m afraid my time in East Anglia has left me more damaged than I would like to admit. No man, even as good and kind as Osferth is, will want me once they learn of what has happened.” You shook your head and Uhtred felt his heart shatter within his chest. He took your hands in his and held tight. “His God would not allow him to see me as I see him, I’m sure of it.”

“Then you are blind.” Your brows furrowed as you picked up your head to look Uhtred in the eyes.

“I do not understand.” You shook your head, looking back to Osferth. Uhtred guided your head back in his direction with a gentle tilt from his finger under your chin.

“No man worth their weight would ever turn you away. What happened…was not your fault. My decisions led you to that fate, and there will never be a day that passes that I do not hate myself for it.” You opened your mouth to argue, but he held up his hand. “You lived, you survived, and you came back from it. You cannot be faulted for surviving.” Uhtred squeezed your trembling hands. “I cannot tell you what he feels, but I see how he looks to you.”

“In fear,” you said, looking away from Uhtred. The shadow of self-doubt loomed heavily over you, shrouding you in darkness. That was how men looked at you, with nefarious eyes or with total fear. Osferth did not have a lecherous bone in his body, and the day he ever showed you blatant disrespect would be the very day he turned a sword onto himself.

“Perhaps,” Uhtred chuckled softly, though it wasn’t to taunt you. “or perhaps it is admiration. I had looked upon Gisela as he looks upon you now. I know it very well.” Your eyes met Uhtred’s. To bring up the late Gisela was painful for him, you knew that. Squeezing Uhtred’s hands in return, you let them go as he stood.

Uhtred could tell how uncomfortable you were with this whole conversation. Even before your enslavement, Uhtred knew you had taken the occasional lover. You never married, and had never taken a man steadily.

This was something else entirely.

“It is a fleeting thought that I will dwell upon no longer.” You picked up the bowl of water that was tinted pink from the bedside table and held it to your abdomen. Looking back at Uhtred as you reached the door, Uhtred looked back at you with a deep sadness in his eyes at the torment he could see flooding through you like an internal tidal wave.

She was self-destructing before the poor monk ever had the opportunity to fight for his own heart, he thought.

“I just wish him to recover.” You whispered, looking to Osferth once more before taking your leave.

“Osferth!” You shouted as the monk fell to the ground after he had thrown another off of a horse. You continued to cut down the surrounding Danes to make your way to the monk. “Get up!” You slayed any man that stepped before you with a ferocity that was unmatched. “Get up now, Osferth! You will stand or I will kill you myself! AH!” You kicked a Dane in the balls and shoved your sword through his neck as he hunched over.

“Osferth?” You called again, panting profusely, but the monk did not move from where he fell. The salt of your sweat burned your eyes with each drop that fell from your brows.

“Sihtric!” The man in question whipped his head around to find you. “Clear a path!” There weren’t many Danes left who hadn’t fled with their tails tucked between their legs, but there were still a good number that wished for the glory of Valhalla. Sihtric nodded, clearing any upright Danes as you unburied Osferth from the men who fell above him.

“He lives,” You breathed in relief as your eyes met his. “Get up,” You demanded.

“I cannot,” Osferth’s breaths were heavy and quick as he brought shaking hands to his bleeding abdomen. “My Lady.” The sight took the breath from your lungs, but it didn’t take long to jump into action.

“You must,” You grunted. Osferth shouted in pain as you pulled the larger man to his feet. He leaned heavily on you as you tried to keep him from toppling over. Osferth’s pale facade turned an ashen color from the blood loss and it made you move even quicker. Sihtric cut down anyone who saw you and the injured monk as open targets with little effort.

“I will get you to the healing tent, but you must first have the courage to live!” You grunted as you all but hefted the towering monk over your shoulder. His feet dragged through the mud and muck of the field as you put the last of your energy into getting him to safety.

Sihtric took Osferth’s other shoulder to assist in carrying the half dead man to the tent.

“Empty a cot! Now!” Your voice boomed, striking the woman inside into action.

“Here!” She instructed, allowing Sihtric and you to gently place Osferth onto the furs.

“I need cloth, bandages -anything to stem the bleeding. Quickly,” You instructed Sihtric. The woman who acted as a healer was already overwhelmed, bouncing between the various tents, and you could not afford any wasted time if Osferth was to live.

Shoving his modesty to the side, you started cutting anything off of him that obstructed your view of the wound. Fresh blood quickly coated your shaking hands as it flowed without intention of stopping.

“Find Uhtred. Quickly!” You instructed Sihtric as he dropped an arm full of supplies onto the cot between Osferth’s writhing legs. Sihtric flew out of the tent once more, screams of pain and anguish followed behind him, nipping at his heels.

Osferth fought against you as you pressed a bandage to the gaping wound that resided just under his ribs.

“I know this hurts, but I must stem the flow!” You gritted your teeth as you pressed your weight down on him to stop his thrashing.

Your eyes opened. Inhaling a deep breath through your nose, you groaned at the stiffness in your back from your second night sleeping on the chair next to Osferth’s bed. Fingers deftly rubbed the back of your neck to soothe the pain that lingered. The sky was dark, you noted. Night had fallen. Two candles were lit in the room, basking it in a soft, comfortable glow.

“My lady,” Osferth’s gentle voice startled you. Your head whipped to look at him. “Though I could never repay you for your kindness, you need not waste your time and energy on me. Please.”

“Stop.” You raised a hand to silence Osferth. “Need I remind you that I am no lady. My name will do just fine.” You groaned as you stood, the joints of your spine popping as you extended your arms up in a deep stretch.

“But you are, my Lady,” Osferth groaned as he shifted in the bed uncomfortably. You took a few steps over to help, but he held his hand out to stop you. “You have done enough for me. Please, get some rest. You needn’t worry about me any longer.”

“So it seems.” A moment of silence passed between the both of you before you cleared your throat. “You must be hungry. I will see if I can scrounge anything from the kitchens.” You fled before he had a chance to respond.

Uhtred had left to go on a solo mission. He was adamant that whatever he had to do, he had to do it alone. Though it pained you to not be at his side, as you had sworn you would, you stayed put within the confines of Saltwic.

Osferth had been using the idle time to regain his strength, but the rest of you were going stir-crazy. You did your best to keep your distance from Osferth, more for your own sanity than anything else. You noticed his longing glances, and if you noticed them, then so did Finan and Sihtric. After a nearly successful pillow smothering attempt on Finan’s life, the pair kept their mouths shut regarding any good-natured teasing they threw your way.

It was late into the night during the seventh day of Uhtred’s absence that you sat in the hall before the fireplace. Everyone had gone to bed, leaving you to listen to the rain pitter across the high ceiling as it came down in torrents outside. A cup of ale was clutched in your hands, you felt the warmth of it settle in your belly as you sat on the floor with your back rested against the bench of the table behind you. A quilt was wrapped around your shoulders snugly, bringing a comfort that you longed for. This was the only time you truly got the peace you craved to do absolutely nothing. You didn’t think, you didn’t feel -you just existed and it was a reset you so desperately craved.

“May I?” Osferth’s soft voice broke your silence. Looking up, his face gave away nothing. You nodded, expecting him to sit upon the bench, but he gently lowered himself to the floor beside you with a grunt. When he got situated, you offered your cup to him. He thought for a moment before taking it, the tips of his fingers just brushing against yours as he took it from you. Osferth gulped a mouthful before handing it back to you, nodding in thanks. You set the cup between you before looking back into the fire, pulling the quilt tighter around your shoulders -painfully aware of just how close he sat beside you.

No man, Dane or Saxon, made you feel the way he did with a single glance. When you initially met the shy monk, you did not give him a second glance. He was -is- a holy man, and your past experiences with holy men hadn’t been great up until that point. Beocca excluded.

When Osferth insisted on joining your little rag-tag group, you had scoffed. He would be someone you’d have to constantly babysit as he had no experience with a sword. Why would he? He had God to protect him, you remember thinking ruefully. He took all of the teasing words you all threw at him and let them roll off his back with a grin, and against your will he had grown on you. All of you.

Osferth, with his kindness and willingness to learn and adapt, had become an integral piece of Uhtred’s group of warriors. He had found his place in a world that had shunned him since his birth. As time went on, he had gravitated towards you and all you taught him of wielding a weapon and survival. The once lanky young man had begun to fill out as his own strength grew.

It was noticeable enough for you to give him a second glance when he decided to shyly she’d his robes for the night while you, Osferth, and Finan were camping mid-journey the summer previous. The plains of his abdomen were grooved with muscle definition that was only exacerbated by the shadows the flames of the fire between you casted upon him. A cough from Finan broke your gaze and you didn’t think you blinked for the rest of the night as your brain tried to comprehend just what you were feeling.

You may as well have strapped yourself to a catapult and pulled the lever yourself, for it would’ve felt just as insane as you currently felt.

A monk, you thought to yourself. He wasn’t much of a monk anymore at that point, and he was even less one now.

You brought the edge of the quilt up to over your cheeks, hoping he didn’t catch on to you going through a silent crisis in his presence.

“If I’ve made you uncomfortable, my lady, I will take my leave and return your peace.” Osferth made to get up, but your quick hand stopped him before he made the effort to stand.

With just a single glance, it felt like you were bare before him.

“You do not make me uncomfortable, Osferth.” You decided to forego chastising him over calling you ‘my lady’ as it was a moot point. “Your presence is…comforting.” It was a half truth, not necessarily a lie. His presence was comforting, but your heart felt like it would beat straight through your chest.

“I am pleased to hear it.” He replied with a gentle grin as he looked down at you. He brought his right knee up so he could rest his forearms atop it comfortably.

You wondered what he was thinking in that moment. Did he come out of his room to see solace before the fire as you had? Did he hear you up and make the conscious decision to join you? His face gave away nothing as you looked at his profile as it glowed before the flames.

“May I ask you something, Osferth?” Your voice hasn’t reached above a faint whisper. The peace that settled between the both of you had calmed your heart of its reckless pounding, but you still craved just how intimate this felt.

“Anything, my lady.” His lips tilted at the corner facing you in an almost teasing fashion. You understood then that he continued to call you that because you got a rise out of it. He was teasing you.

“Do you fear me?” Your question hung in the air for a brief moment. Osferth, through his ever growing confidence, turned his head and locked his gentle eyes with yours. The glow of the fire before you illuminated both of your features, casting sharp shadows where the light of the flames did not touch.

“Would you think me weak if I said yes?” Osferth’s words were soft, as was his expression. You were the first to break contact, your eyes moving to the fire, then down to your hands, once more picking over the inked skin in your palm.

“No,” You breathed, looking back up to Osferth earnestly. “I have never thought you as weak, Osferth. Foolish in the beginning, perhaps, but never weak.” You licked your bottom lip in nervousness, your anxieties trying to take over. He chuckled breathily as he saw your foot shake anxiously. He let his leg fall flat next to your leg and tapped your shaking foot with his. You looked back to Osferth and he was already watching you.

It was strange for Osferth to see your stone facade crack. For the time he’d known you, up until very recently, you were unshakable. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what the glances you gave him meant. He knew why you were watching him in the battlefield that day, why you were there to pull him out. Why you had saved his life when he would have surely died otherwise. Osferth felt the bloom of affection swell in his chest. His longing wasn’t quite so…noticeable. Or so he thought. Finan and Uhtred’s hawk-like gazes caught every glance he threw in your direction, every proud look he graced you with. Osferth had eyes for you and only you, and you were too stuck in your own mind to see it.

You continued, “I do hope you understand that if there is ever a man to walk this realm without fear of me…it is you, Osferth.” You confessed. Osferth held his breath as he stared at you with his jaw dropped ever so slightly.

“Me?” He found the courage to speak. Emotions were swirling within him in a tsunami. The waves of possible rejection were receding, and hope surged forward in an unrelenting crash.

“Yes.” You took a moment to gather your thoughts as they fled your mind. “You are not like them, Osferth.” He knew the reference was to your companions and he couldn’t help but deflate just a little at your words. You still saw him as less than, he thought. The hope that had surged just moments prior had all but left as he thought on what you said.

Osferth was far from a true warrior, he’d admit, but he did his very best with each day to grow stronger, faster, and more cunning. Training alongside you, with your guidance, had pushed him to want to be the warrior that was worthy of just a glance from you, and he felt as if he had been stabbed through his heart to learn that it wasn’t enough.

“Though you try to be like them, I wish you wouldn’t.” Oh, he thought in confusion. You let a few more moments pass between you.

Osferth waited on baited breath for every word that left your lips. A sharp gasp left his lips as you brought a hand to his chest and pushed it against his heart gently. Oh, he realized. You could feel the beating of his heart increase instantly.

“There is something within you, Osferth. Something good -pure- that takes a hold of me in moments such as this.” Your voice cracked and Osferth saw tears line your kohl lined eyes as his hands came to cup over yours on his chest affectionately. “So close, yet just far enough that I cannot reach.”

“My Lady,” There wasn’t a teasing tilt of his lips as he said it.

“Do not, Osferth.” You begged, rolling your eyes up to stop the tears from falling. You tried to bring your hand back, but Osferth held true, not allowing you to retreat when you had given him a shred of a rope to grasp onto. His hands held yours to his chest with purpose, looking into your eyes as he spoke.

“It is there for you to take,” He offered humbly, eyes pleading with you to understand his words. He was yours, and would always be yours.

“You do not mean that.”

“I do,” He breathed your name “Before the eyes and ears of God, I speak only the truth. My heart is yours. It has been for some time.” You shook your head, turning away from Osferth and pulling your hand from him.

“A heart as pure as yours is deserving of more than I can give.” You reasoned.

“You do not know that.”

“I do.” You argued vehemently. “It is you who does not know whom you give your affects so freely to.” The quilt was wrapped around you once more as a form of protection.

“Do you hold affection for me?” Osferth boldly asked.

“You know I do. You wouldn’t be sitting here if you thought otherwise.”

“Then why do you not allow yourself to receive mine?”

“Because I have been tainted in ways you could never imagine.” Your voice rose. “While Uhtred was sold into slavery with a shipmaster, I was not so lucky.” Tears slipped from your eyes as you curled further into yourself.

“Is this why you flee from me? You are ashamed of something tragic that befell you? That was of no fault of your own?” Osferth’s gentle touch met your chin to tilt your head in his direction. A deep sadness flooded his eyes as your lip trembled. “Have you spoken to anyone about what happened to you?”

“Uhtred knows…but Lady Gisela was the only one to truly know what I went through.” Osferth’s heart cracked at the mention of Gisela. A truly kind woman who only treated those around her with respect unless given reason otherwise. She was sorely missed.

Osferth pulled you to him, slotting your cocooned body between his legs and held your back to his chest. You were careful of disturbing his still healing wound as Osferth’s arms wrapped around your shoulders and held you tightly to him.

Osferth nestled his chin on your shoulder boldly. His lips were so close to your ear that you felt the vibrations as he spoke.

“I will take all that you will afford me and I will want for nothing more, my Lady. You will never bear this burden alone, so long as I live. I promise you this.”

“You would damn your soul?”

“I would ask for forgiveness, should he require it of me. God is forgiving. He is just. He is understanding…” Osferth looked into your eyes. “He would not turn me from you when it is He who led me on a path to you.”

One of your hands snaked out of the quilt and nudged itself between Osferth’s just over your chest. His fingers immediately intertwined with yours and he bravely kissed the side of your head, just above your ear. It was short and quick, but you felt like you were ascending.

“You would tempt it? With your God?” You questioned, turning your head ever so slightly to look at him.

“I would.” He replied without hesitation. His eyes lowered to your lips and he leaned down to rest his forehead against the side of yours.

“I would not ask this if you.” You whispered, your lips a hair’s width from his.

“Then do not ask.” Osferth closed the space and let his lips meet yours. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and intimate. Your hand untangled from his and found purchase on the column of his neck. His skin was soft and warm against your fingertips. His hands mirrored yours, pulling you impossibly closer to him as he could while his lips continued to take all they could from you.

Osferth could not believe the soft mewls you breathed against his open mouth, nor could he believe that this was truly happening. He was ready for the rug to be pulled out from beneath his, for his eyes to open from the dream he had so many times before where he confessed to you and caressed you into the late hours of the night.

You were the first to break free. Resting your forehead against his, both of you panted as you braved yourselves. Neither of you loosened your hold on one another as you caught your breath. Osferth pulled back just far enough to press a kiss between your brows. He let his lips linger for a moment before guiding your head down to rest on his chest.

Opening the quilt, you wrapped it around his torso with you sandwiched between. Not a single word was shared the remainder of the night as you both lulled to sleep. Osferth’s hands found themselves either nestled between your own or skimming up and down your back in comforting motions. By the time he closed his eyes, you were already asleep and the fire was dying down.

“Found ‘em.” Finan alerted Sihtric in a whisper as he rounded the table in the hall. He stared down at you and Osferth cradled in each others arms. Both early risers, you’d somehow slept through most of the morning and hadn’t moved as much as an inch in the night. Sihtric raised a dark brow at the scene before him when he stood next to Finan.

“Should we wake them?” Sihtric asked, looking to Finan.

“Nah, let’s just leave ‘em be.” He smiled conspiratorially at Sihtrid, who slowly mirrored his look. “There’ll be plenty of time for teasin’ when they decide to wake their lazy arses up.”

[hanniejji]

doll

[ kunikuzushi!scaramouche x okami!reader ]

summary: in a desperate hope that yae could still give ei's puppet a chance to live, she turns to you, an ancient godlike being born with the physique of a wolf and a former friend that she hasn't seen since makoto's death. yet, as she persuades you, she starts to realize that maybe this was her biggest mistake yet.

notes: nah y/n's just being a silly wolf, they're not gonna do anything bad to kuni 🥺 not yet ehe just kidding she's just a lil salty i based y/n's form from okami, a mythological wolf deity in japan but im not japanese so i may be culturally incorrect im so sorry ackskf | m.list

words: 1131 | warnings: a little mean and rude reader but only a lil ackskf

"it's a kid."

"as you can obviously see."

you sent a sharp side eye towards the smug fox, your arms crossed in an attitude that only you are privileged to make known to the ever magnificent yae miko. if it was anyone else, she would have said a word or two about their respect towards her.

but this is you.

you who used to signify great strength among your kind—you still do, but not as much when you were still active in the battlefield—and once stood beside the ever wise makoto, the first archon of inazuma.

you, veteran warrior of the archon war who survived the great calamity five hundred years ago, now being forced into some… babysitting nonsense.

"it's a fucking kid."

"watch your mouth, dear. after all, he is a kid," she winked. "and what do they say about kids? they are easily influenced by the people they are surrounded with, so if i were you i would be very careful if i don't want him spewing curses here and there."

"what is a kid, he, doing here?"

your eyes stared down at the shivering boy on the ground, meeting his terrified purple eyes that resembled someone you once knew. he's the spitting image of them, long luscious purple hair and amethyst eyes that shined brighter than any other vajrada stones you've seen—you're just being a little biased, you secretly love those cor lapis you only seen merchants bring through the port but you don't exactly say they out loud where anyone can hear you.

"that's a long story."

"well then, get talking."

"my, my, what got you so sour today?" yae's alluring giggles infuriated you more than the sight of this boy in front of you.

"you are well aware of why i prohibited any trespasses in my abode, guuji yae," your tone nearly turns to a growl at your ex-acquaintance's new title—you can almost see the way she backs away but she surely regained her composure as quick as lightning, but her flattened ears says otherwise—"and yet here you are, shamelessly asking me for a favor after i made it clear that my ties with the shogun and her connections are severed with my own claws."

"yes, i am aware," she exasperatedly sighs, "but this is a pressing matter that i can only turn to you for help."

"by dumping the child of the shogun on me?"

"y/n!" yae frowned at your tone, one of her hands coming to rest upon the boy's trembling shoulder. "if you could please take the time to understand where i am coming from, it would be greatly appreciated. listen to me, just this time."

the two of you stared at each other in silence, both of you radiating an intimidating aura of authority that only some of the most prominent species in inazuma has. your eyes glowered menacingly, a growl resounding from the back of your throat that sent yae miko into tremors of fear. you, who had stood next to the defenders of inazuma. yae miko barely stands a chance against you.

"please," she faltered against your everlasting gaze. "at least give the boy a chance."

your eyes brought its gaze to the trembling boy. his head is lowered to the ground, an evident effect of your show of strength. fear is literally plastered in the way he's trembling, elbows shaking despite having both of his hands keeping him up from falling limp on the ground. tears were dripping from his pale cheeks, soft whimpers of his cries being desperately muffled by biting into the pulp of his lower lip. it's no doubt that they're swollen by now—in fact, if he was human, you could probably smell the smallest hint of metallic blood from just a tiny crack on the skin of his lips.

pathetic, you scoffed, this? is supposed to hold the gnosis of a god? perhaps ei has forgotten the difference between a celestial being and a mere puppet.

"why is the shogun rejecting her own creation?"

the boy let out a whimper louder than the rest.

sensitive, too emotional.

"she did not reject him," yae crossed her arms at the accusation, bravely sending you a dirty look, "i would love to explain everything to you in detail, just not in his presence."

"oh?"

she grimaces at the victorious smirk on your face.

"why not let him listen? after all," you walk towards the boy, crouching right in front of him. a hand raises to tilt his chin up, eyes glowing in amusement at his confused look, "does he not deserve an explanation as to why his own creator—or better yet, his mother—decided to entrust him in the hands of someone like me?"

you hold his face in your hands, thumbs caressing the apple of his cheeks and cooing at the way they turn pink.

the way humans do.

"is ei," your voice lowers to a sultry tone, a hypnotic sound that turns the boy into a puddle of something akin to reverence, doe eyes staring back at yours, "turning her eyes away from a mistake she made on her own, like the blind coward she is?"

"that's enough," yae hissed, snapping the boy out of his trance and he cowers away from your touch, "ei is entrusting him to you because she knows you won't do anything that will harm him. he's still just a boy."

both yae and the boy jumped when you suddenly laughed. it wasn't anything gleeful or genuine. it was cold, empty, something that tells yae that she should leave before you bare your fangs at her.

"ei still trusts me? how amusing!" your grin tells her another story, "well then, i shall honor such opportunity!"

"what?" yae stares at you dumbfounded for the nth time today.

"you're… taking him in?" she faltered in disbelief. she was almost sure you'd shoo them away, spouting how insolent she is to believe that you would even do such a favor, that you would not bore such a responsibility on behalf of the shogun. somewhere at the back of yae's mind, she's screaming at herself to pull the boy away from you before everything takes a turn for the worst.

"why not?"

gently, with cold hands that once held warmth years ago, you held his face closer, brushing the stray strands of purple out of his visage and whispering into his ears.

"what's your name, little one?"

"kuni… kunikuzushi," he stammered.

"such an entitled name you have, i like it. doesn't suit a face like yours, but we'll see," the grin on your face widened, leaning closer to his ears, "i would love to take you in, doll."

the sight of you, towering above ei's prototype, sends an unknown fear into yae's mind.

[guardkeywolf]

Cod boys meeting male reader who has freckles 🥺

Like he has freckles all over his face and on his body and he's so fucking pretty and the boys already loving him for his somewhat bubbly personality 😭

You can add other things if ya want <333

Have a wonderful day :D

The 141's Prettiest Boy

I AM SO SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG @gamersansblog !!!

Please forgive me...

This did take me a while to really think about so I do hope you enjoy it!

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Y/n was fucking stunning to look at anytime he was around.

The 141 truly couldn't even keep their eyes off him whenever they saw him walk past either...

He was just... mesmerizing.

The way his short (h/c) curls bounced as he walked, the soft tune he hummed to himself as he typed up his paperwork, and of course, his cute little freckles that sprinkle his adorable face. Every damn thing this man did was heavenly when in the presence of the 141.

And hell, to be graced with this man's presence was surely a gift from God if anything.

Sometimes most of the 141 wondered how a man so pure like Y/n even managed to get involved with the military.

They always hesitated to even let the him go on missions due to the fear of losing him at times.

But Y/n, of course always reassured them by using his charm and making all their fears go away.

Well, sometimes...but they were still cautious.

As far as the 141 was concerned, if anyone dare hurt Y/n, they would pay dearly...and if they were lucky, Ghost would be the last to get knowledge of it before the he went on a manhunt for whoever hurt his precious Y/n.

Ghost wasn't the only one though, Price would become more scary then before when it came to Y/n's care as well.

Both men would join together and go on a hunting spree if they made him cry or feel any ounce of pain.

While Y/n did love watching his boys protect him, he still manged to hold his own in a fight just as much as the others.

It would be that Oh so lovely charm and beauty he had that would lead to any enemies demise when they came in contact with the bubbly personality that was Y/n.

That cute little smile was the very deception that held sometimes nothing but hatred for the enemy when he slashed them down with no mercy.

When on missions, the man would wear a vibrant (color name) flower (you can pick the type of flower) he had sat tucked behind his left ear while still wearing that benevolent smile of his. Soap and Gaz swore it practically made him glow even brighter than before and Y/n laughed at the comment contentedly.

Ghost even went as far to say the could probably use it as a tactic in the field. Y/n as their own personal human flashbang, the other men laughed.

Y/n enjoyed seeing them like this when he could.

If anything, the 141 was Y/n's sun that would always be a pick me up for him, especially being in this job. But for what it's worth, he wouldn't trade what he had with his boys for the world.

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Thank you again for reading!

-Guards

[tyran-the-tyranical]

That one line from Raphael's Second Diary will never cease to get me 🥺 LIKE MIGHT I ADD- these are his private thoughts, separate from his manipulation attempts and so he, with his full chest, admits so much in his second diary, like when he says "never have I been so attracted to mortals as I am to those infested by the tadpole." AHH, (my delusions are so real, trust)

BUT WHEN HE SAYS "They gestured to the melting hooks, suddenly glanced my way, and in their face I saw they had the best of me." look, I get the subtext behind all these quotes, but a girl can just ignore all that media literacy and take it for face value, OK? 💅 but also reading into it, he does admire Tav to a certain extent, and I have to wonder, why? Tav isn't an origin character and Tav's actions and character basically changes with every playthrough (Same with Durge, as they can change too) So I have to wonder if it's because Tav is controlled by the player, since, Raphael does end up breaking the fourth wall in his epilogue speech, so perhaps that's what he sees.

Another way to look at it is, either way, no matter what the playthrough, he sees something in Tav, something that makes them stand out much brighter than their companions (For some reason???)

To further that statement, what is the best of Raphael? I mean, if its an evil playthrough, that would be obvious, but if you're playing a good playthrough, what then? perhaps what he sees is someone he can finally use to get the crown, that's also very likely. Still though that's a very to the point (IMO) not as interesting of a reading since it's literally just his end goal for us, BUT STILL A VALID ONE, because, it is true, that's what he wants from us the most.

Also his third diary where he just straight up admits that he's being so honest with us so he can manipulate us, love that for him, "I am master here. A prince of bargains cloaked like scarlet satin. All that hidden under sublimely obvious truths that cannot be discounted." Which also makes me wonder, is Raphael actually an honest person? I mean, Korilla thinks he's at least decent, but honest? outside of helping us, if we look at Yurgir, he really fucked him over lol. Obviously, Raphael isn't what he seems, even if he's honest with us, to what extent? he says it himself, he's honest about "...sublimely obvious truths..." but what about when he says he's grown quite fond of us in his own way, HMMMM?

I wish this man got a proper story arc in the game, outside of the whole deal for the hammer and House of Hope, that's all plot related for the hammer, but a storyline about Raphael as a character? I mean yea, maybe that would whisk away some of his mystery, his intrigue, but I'm sorry- you cant just end it with him fucking himself (poorly) and trying to break Hope (making her a metaphorical symbol of hope anyway, I think....) AND LEAVE IT THERE?!?!? at the same time, I do like the ambiguity of his character, you could think of him as a cruel bastard after seeing what he's done in the House Of Hope to his debtors and Hope herself or perhaps just a Pathetic lil guy who's shit in bed lol, or maybe even soft, if you go off Korillas words and what he does for us in game he can come across as quite nice, especially after we've interacted with Mizora who's is the only other Cambion example we can go off of.

I also just think it's interesting that he sees anything in Tav/Durge at all. Ofc he says he sees the best of him (Always gotta relate back to himself lol) but that especially a mortal is what he could see himself, the best of himself, but then again he does see potential and ambition as admirable (?) or just something he appreciates, you can see that with Mol and Gortash to some extent anyway, But what ambitions does Tav have outside of just trying to survive? Like, the obvious answer is he wants us to give him the crown and we're the underdog in the story but then why does he refer to Tav so differently then? I fear this has turned into another rant again, lol.

Just a final thought here, but, if he did ever get a story arc, similar to the companions, would they give you multiple directions to take his character? i mean with Shadowheart for example, you could help her break from shar or have her fully convert into shars chosen, but even then, if you free her from shar theres the point of saving her family or freeing her from Shars (curse?) there's multiple ways for her story to end. Though, Raphael isnt a companion, so would he have something similar to idk a minor companion like Halsin or Minthara, who don't really have that much of a diversion (I think) in their endings, they don't really have the option, only really if the player decides to be evil or not, they kinda just follow them either way, it doesn't really impact their own stories. Obviously, I would prefer something with nuance but also, HE ISN'T A COMPANION 😭 and pressingly some of the companions need more work done than he does atm lol. Maybe that's me just projecting lol, once again, me wanting to have my cake and eat it too, anyway, that's me done... for now lol

[lumienyx]

happy to surrender

Pairing: Astarion/m!Tav | Rating: T | Words: 1,208 | Tags: Established Relationship, Romance, Banter, Fluff, Humor, sorcery as a replacement for the tadpole mindlink, no beta we die like Dribbles

Summary: A snowflake lands on Tav’s lips, and Astarion melts it with a kiss.  “My love.” Astarion’s gaze is so tender, his voice so fragile Tav fears that it may break. “These last six months of happy memories are a counterweight to two hundred years of misery.”

A/N: inspired by a bunch of things: Astarion's epilogue confession ofc, @snowyarts' post contrasting it with his earlier much more grim dialogue, and when I finally started on the New Beginnings prompt for the BG3 Winter Holiday Challenge, I ended up with this🥺 Hope you enjoy💙

Read on AO3 or continue under the cut ↓

The canvas of the night stretches wide above them. Astarion watches it, entranced, ever in awe of each new starscape of Faerûn they uncover during their travels. 

Tav is mesmerized in turn by the subtle play of moonlight on Astarion’s skin, in his eyes. The light snowfall grazes his hair, the flakes lingering just a bit longer than usual before melting away. Tav leans closer into the one-armed embrace, pressing his lips against Astarion's neck.

“Any new constellations you can show me?” Tav follows his lover’s gaze to a messy cluster of stars.

Astarion chuckles. “Of course, my sweet. If you remember all the ones from before.”

“All of them?” Tav frowns, doubtful. “You have a lot of faith in my memory.”

“If you can quote that bawdy poor excuse of a romance novel we stole from Gale, then surely—”

“Anyway.” Tav ignores Astarion’s smirk, pointing to where he spots a familiar, blade-like pattern, tracing it with his finger. “That one. Jassa’s Dagger?”

“Wrong.”

“Oh, well, the Sword and the Dagg—”

Astarion cuts him off with an exasperated kiss, reaching out to run his hand through Tav's hair, a pleasant shiver tingling in its wake. “Try again. No daggers there, I’m afraid.”

“Ah.” Tav skips through a couple more guesses. “Well… Esetar?”

“That isn’t even visible right now, darling.” Astarion caresses his cheek then, gentle and almost placating. “Not that I don’t find this positively adorable, but do you even listen when I tell you about them?”

“I remember most of our stargazing lessons ending in me seeing stars for a very different reason.”

Astarion groans. “And I remember how I’ve told you repeatedly that your questionable attempts at wordplay leave much to be desired.”

“This one was good,” Tav insists, “one might even say stellar—”

“Stop—”

Astarion struggles out of the embrace only half-heartedly, and Tav doesn’t catch any trace of tension on his face, so he doesn’t break the hold. “Made you smile,” he says, with no small measure of satisfaction.

“I am not,” Astarion says, “smiling,” he tries and fails to suppress it.

“But there it is.” 

Tav presses his lips to Astarion’s, feeling the grin widen. He relishes the soft, languid movement of his lover’s lips as they fall deeper into a kiss that warms Tav even more than the sphere of heat he’s keeping up around them. There’s only a hair’s breadth between them as they pull away, and Tav finds himself lost in Astarion’s eyes all over again.

“There.” Tav points to another patch in the sky, not even looking. “Mystra’s Circle.”

“Why,” Astarion gasps in mock surprise, “truly a remarkable catch! The only circular constellation out there—how did you guess?”

Tav weaves a few spheres from the heaps of snow behind Astarion, all ready to strike. They all miss, of course; Astarion leaps out of his arms to dodge them just in time, and Tav barely manages to halt the spell before the projectiles end up hitting him instead.

“Ugh.” Tav lets the spell dissipate ina burst of snowflakes. Gone is his only chance to catch Astarion off guard. “I’ll get you one of these days.”

“Darling,” Astarion laughs, “do I have to remind you of the score of our snowball fights?” He rushes back into the radius of the heating spell and into Tav's begrudging embrace, though Tav probably doesn’t look as annoyed as he’s pretending to be.

“You may win the battles,” Tav grumbles, “but you won't win the war.”

“If you ask me really nicely, I doubt I would have any choice but to concede defeat.”

“Ha! Since when are you happy to surrender?”

“I am happy with you always,” Astarion says.

And it’s those simple words that give Tav pause. 

There is no hint of jest or deceit in Astarion’s eyes. Only warmth and tenderness that Tav is still getting used to seeing there, in place of the once constant fear and pain. The bright specks of light reflected in them form constellations of their own against the ruby red. So beautiful, impossible to look away from, even as Tav feels heat rushing to his cheeks and his heart rattling his chest at an alarming rate. A reaction he hasn’t quite grown out of, even after all these months by Astarion’s side.

“I—well.” Tav blinks. A nervous chuckle follows a bashful smile. “Really?”

A snowflake lands on Tav’s lips, and Astarion steals it with a kiss before it melts. 

“My love.” Astarion’s gaze is so tender, his voice so fragile Tav fears that it may break. “These last six months of happy memories are a counterweight to two hundred years of misery.”

Tav’s heart skips a beat, perhaps a couple. He doesn’t know what to answer, doesn’t know how. He can’t quite believe it, still. The pain yet rings sharp from the words Astarion had said a longer while back—that not even Cazador’s death would make up for the all-consuming darkness, that never-ending pain.

But Astarion slides into his mind now, magic weaving itself in the familiar spell Tav spent months developing so they could both have this—mind-to-mind emotions and wordless connection—once their tadpoles were gone. Astarion’s feelings are clear as day there, somewhere in the in-between of Tav’s own tangled thoughts and emotions—

—it's as if there's a bright, simmering hearth in his chest, and it feels like home, you are home—

—Tav’s own face obscures his vision, one memory that mirrors thousands more like it, and when he sees that face smile, he feels—Astarion feels like it lights up everything around him, bringing to life something deep inside him that he thought long forgotten, and he feels his lips follow suit to mirror mine—

—touch is less like small bursts of electricity, like it used to be when they barely knew each other but knew enough to want one another and every touch sparked desire—

—now, the touch of my hand is grounding, your embrace feels like a warding spell, a Sanctuary that keeps at bay whatever danger and harm the world yet harbors, kissing you completes me like two split pieces of a whole finally joining—

There’s waves upon waves of joy radiating from Astarion’s thoughts, there's the shadow of his embrace that Tav can feel even as he’s lost in the connection—and all of a sudden, it’s too much to bear being parted, and so he closes the distance between them. They kiss deeply, softly, it’s all kinds of perfection Tav doesn’t ever want to let go. 

Tav is quite happy to surrender to Astarion, too.

Astarion’s lips are cool and yet the kiss spreads warmth all over Tav’s body. Like the familiar surge of sorcery running through his veins, only better, because Astarion’s touch is more magical than any spell Tav could ever hope to invoke. It’s all the elation of a life bound closely to his, of their life began anew. A life they get to live, against all odds, together. Their minds are still entwined, and Astarion’s coalesces into the single thought,

I love you.

And the emotion of it is strong enough, overwhelming enough to make Tav weak in the knees with how good it makes him feel, how completely it overtakes him. And Tav—

~~~

thank you for the read! I’d appreciate any comments and feedback💙

Tag list (lmk if you'd like to be added):

@spacebarbarianweird @satanicspinosaurus @tallymonster @tragedybunny @ellekhen

[vaguely-concerned]

Happy Grace/Pan Vibes For The Soul

"How can I, with you in the way?"/"(Laughs) The floor is yours!"

First of all I'm honestly just so charmed by how genuinely delighted Pan seems to be at watching Grace finding her voice and learning to enjoy using her power, I think that's where I started to take a shine to him. (also seems quite central to his character/romance in general because it's a thing that recurs through their relationship -- he tells her "I'm enjoying it if you're enjoying it" straight out at one point and that's definitely always there in the subtext). He buys a music studio for her just in case she ever wants to return to making music again even when she's not the muse anymore just because he loves her singing and has seen it make her happy before, how is that not the sweetest goddamn thing in the world??? Pan and Oracle in shared first place as stans for Grace musically

For real though, 'I Can Teach You' is sooo... even when you don't join forces with him Pan teaches Grace so many things in that song, it's a thematic tutorial as well as a gameplay one in many ways. For me I think the most impactful subtexts are 'This is a tricky situation, change is here and it's difficult, but you have more control and agency here than you think' ("You're in control!" "It's your song!"), and this sense that, y'know... there can be joy and playfulness and discovery in setting out into the unknown, not just fear and uncertainty.

dude... I wanna be in cahoots with & sing playful duets with you for the rest of my life bro (amorous intent)

Pros: Hell yeah look at her go! 🥰

Cons: Uh-oh look at her go! 😬

I love that Grace can bring Pan's motif into 'Challenging A Queen' and be called the fuck out by Persephone btw. why u keepin' your guard up girl uwu

'you gave up the only thing worth having -- for your little mortal friend' he says, giving up everything for his little once-again-mortal friend literally the next day fhsdkjfhsad who are you fooling buddy? not even yourself at this point surely??? (dialogue for if you save Freddie by giving up the eidolon)

my observations on the grace/pan dynamic across the different personality traits (yes I've done a run of each romancing him I am normal about it):

Clever!Grace: Pan seems to set out to be a trickster mentor of sorts, and Clever!Grace flips the uno reverse card on him and goes ‘Not if I trickster mentor you first bitch be honest about your feelings or perish challenge engage’. Probably the most birds of a feather combination (and indeed it’s the Blue version of the soundtrack that shows off his romance — also his tie and glasses are on the cover for that one :) ). 

Charming!Grace: Performative puppy dog eyes-off whenever either of them wants to get their way. 🥺4🥺. Pan is provably a soft touch from the Charming option to find Persephone before Challenging A Queen so I feel he probably tends to buckle faster but it’s a close thing. Local trickster god completely disarmed by someone being nice to him.

Kickass!Grace: “Be real with me or Imma kick your ass”/”Promise? ;)”/"...>:)"

I am always thinking about the way he steps up in The Trial when romanced (and the way it's the only one where Athena is genuinely shocked and appalled fhskadj). there is something about him that's like... he keeps protesting against 'innocent' and he's probably right haha, but there is certainly an almost fundamental lack of any active malice there that he doesn't fully admit to himself or to grace until this moment. he is doing this for grace, but it is also a confession about something really deep in himself that seems to be very vulnerable for him in its sincerity -- that he really doesn't mean to or more importantly want to cause harm (I don't wanna dance/with blood on my hands). admitting to his own basically good heart finally seems to be the bigger, scarier thing for him, more than facing the prospect of dying. he's experiencing the mortifying ordeal of being known and I for one am so proud of him

"I'm just here for the dance"

the way he sings that just to her and completely changes the meaning of it from what he said with it before, from using it to keep her out to inviting her in...

also can you imagine how badly the kill bill sirens must be going off in Grace's head in all variations of this scene no matter who steps up, considering what happened to Freddie just days before....... oof!

*incensed whisper* are you fucking kidding me with this what am I supposed to do with myself here

love these too

I really like the visual repeats of crossing the pond to the tree and back as a metaphor for them getting closer (or rather, him letting her closer, it is very much His Space). he retreats back there towards the end of 'Share This Dance', and that's the point where Grace puts her foot down and essentially says 'no. you come meet me honestly in the middle this time or this isn't happening'. and in 'The Trial' he does and then some!

I meant what I sang. I'm not a good man. If Athena had taken me up on my offer, the Idols would have been better off But I can try to be better. You make me want to try.

fun fact: if you break up with him after The Trial (YEAH you can still break off the romances at that point! it's wild honestly fsjadk), Grace tells him he should try to be better ‘for himself’ not for her... and he calls that (i.e. himself) ‘not much of an incentive’. My guy don’t make me break out the ‘Have you tried therapy’ prompt again. He takes it very calmly and gracefully under the circumstances but he's also like. quietly resigned and subdued. I tried it once for Science and never will again but there you go I bring my knowledge to this altar of sadness lol

you see the thing is I would forgive him for just about anything too I understand why so many of the characters in-game can't stay mad at him for any length of time

he starts the game by asking her to take his hand and he ends it on asking her to take his hand (and she does)...

:') let's share this dance

[monstercampus]

Ellie help I have werewolf brain rot and Kirk has been living in my mind rent free the past few nights 😩 please tell me more about him, does he have a secret soft side or is being mean his love language and you know he cares about you if he's giving you a hard time? Why does he live in a dorm by himself? Where is he on the possessive scale? Honestly just tell me everything you know about him so I can simp to the best of my ability 🥺😫🙏

And actually while I'm here, anything about Elliott or Julian would also be tasty 👀👀👀 forgive me for the werewolf team fic altered my brain chemistry and I may never be the same

absolutely !! !!!!! i am at your mercy uwu <33 (this is mostly stream of consciousness so if u want more i am READY)

(cws: kirk being a sap + lore)

Kirk is very much that way--giving you a hard time is generally how he shows he cares about you. He's only truly mean to those he doesn't care about, and trust that there is a difference even when you get frustrated over his attitude in the beginning. He didn't grow up with a lot of love in his household so it's really not his area of expertise, he never really learned how to show it and only started experiencing affection when he joined the pack and made friends with all the other werewolves. Being snuggled, having his hair stroked instead of pulled, listening to his friends talk about him being handsome and smart even if he's got a shitty attitude.....it's weird to him. He doesn't hate it deep down, but he hates how it makes him feel vulnerable when he doesn't want to be.

'Vulnerable' is barely even in his vocabulary, which is why he comes at you with so much heat at first. He'd been hoping and praying that you two could boink, have a good time, and then you would pretend like it never happened so he wouldn't have to face any of those feelings he has when he looks at you. But when you don't, and when you're just so sweet, Kirk can't handle it and has to revert to what he knows: being a dick. Not nearly to the extent of how he is with other people, but just enough to keep you at arm's length in his constant fear that you're gonna end up making him feel like he isn't totally worthless. Because what would he do then? He's accepted the role of being an irredeemable, raging douchebag for pretty much all his life. He's got an attitude, his temper is awful, he doesn't consider himself that good-looking, he's got some of the worst grades out of the whole pack, he fixates on things and lets them consume all his thoughts, and he hasn't even got any palate to boot and will eat just about anything, even if it's on the verge of spoiling. He's total garbage and he's friends with a pack of people that couldn't be more perfect; Julian is incredibly charming, Portia's practically a genius, Nick is insanely handsome, Elliott is so gentle and really funny, Priam is a total sweetheart and Athos is the pinnacle of cool in his eyes. How could he even think of measuring up to all that, much less stick out among the rest and prove he's worth even a little bit of your love?

That may be the most frustrating part about Kirk--he can be the prickliest guy you know and he would die before he ever says those things out loud, but he seriously admires his friends and you yet he has little to no belief in himself. Granted, growing up he would've gotten his ass beat for showing that kind of weakness, so it's still deeply ingrained in him as an adult--especially since the pack are pretty much the first friends he's ever made on his own. And at his core, he's jealous. Jealous of them and their nice families, jealous of how well they all turned out despite going through their own struggles, jealous of how easy it is for them to be open when he's terrified of people finding out he's bi, jealous of you for being so brave and so beautiful in equal measure....so that's why the best thing he can do--in his own opinion of course--is to be your collective guard dog.

After all, Kirk isn't afraid to bite. His instincts are hard to control in his human form, could you even imagine how feral he can get when he's full wolf, or even just close to the full moon? If anything it's what he's good at; hunting, beating ass, and taking a punch. If he can't be as good as you and the others deserve, the least he can do is make sure that sweetness and the goodness of your souls isn't ever dominated by someone else. He'll spill blood, he doesn't care. He would even get suspended if it came to that, expelled, arrested, whatever it takes and he'll let the chips fall where they may. You'll know his love for you is real when he starts acting protective over you, not only when other people try to bother you but as far as your daily needs as well. Have you eaten properly? Are you thirsty? Do you need to sleep? When's the last time you stretched? He acts like it's a favour he's doing for you, like you're a little wolf that needs caring after, but in truth it settles his own self-doubts and makes him happier knowing that he's doing something for you--that he's taking care of you like a mate would, and when you smile at him or thank him for his help he just melts. He would do anything to keep hold of that smile.

.....Which is why he's got a plan in his head for after graduation. He and Nick are the oldest and thus are going to graduate first of all of you, so once that's over and done with he's got plans to start building a place for you all to properly call 'home'. It's nothing crazy--just a cabin in the woods--but if there's one thing he can confidently say he's good at it's woodworking, and he's sketched out the designs to make it everything you could ever want.

Personal rooms for you, him, and Portia who has trouble falling asleep when it's noisy. A big living room with enough sofas to fit you all. Polished oak walls like Julian grew up with and always wanted to see again. A bathtub big enough to fit Nicky's giant, muscly legs without spilling over. Tables and chairs to fit everyone and more, to fit all the family gatherings and maybe even the pups you might have one day. A garden out back where he'll plant those ugly little flowers Elliott loves. Trees and greenery around where they can run and hunt and play during the full moon, totally obscured by the rest of the world. A big fucking chandelier in the dining room to intimidate any friends you bring over that think they're hot enough shit to snatch you. It's gonna be perfect, it's gonna be the one thing he can say he's proud of in practically his whole life. It'll be a gift to all of you for putting up with his assholery for so damn long, for sticking with him even when he couldn't find a single reason why you should.

That's the kind of love Kirk shows. Words don't mean much to him--actions and acts of service are how he expresses his affections, because it's much simpler for him to put work into something he can touch and measure and paint rather than throw some flimsy words around and call it love. Plus, one of the reasons why he lives in his own dorm is because his downtime is incredibly important to him. Usually he would request a private one-bedroom apartment, but this year he was assigned roommates that he very quickly drove away with his annoying habits almost entirely on purpose. If he's not comfortable with someone, then like hell is he going to share an intimate living space with them--and after a long day he just needs time to be completely alone. He has to think, work on his projects, exercise, chew on something, and have no prying eyes around that will impede his progress in trying to figure out how the hell he can try to make himself worthy of being loved by you. A dumb, violent wolf reaching to grab the very moon from the sky.

[stargirlfics]

ok ok ok am baby and there's a huge storm coming my way. this ask is self indulgent, i apologize /.\ any soft thoughts on how Joel would comfort you during a storm? Before an established relationship, he's his usual gruff self, but wherever you guys are hiding out/staying, it's dark and there's thunder, lightning, and heavy rain outside.

at first he just barely glances over his shoulder and tells you it's nothing and to go to sleep, but he hears your footsteps in the room and he sits up to look at you. He sees you pacing, eyes wide open, arms holding yourself as you tremble. Your bedroll isn't even unpacked, all your things are still in your bag like you're ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

you can't sleep and Joel at first thinks it's just the noise that's bothering you, but from the way you can't keep your eyes away from the windows and the way you pace only in the center of the room, he realizes this is a deeply rooted fear.

I loveee being baby and I love self indulgence so no worries at all, this is perfect! 🥺

Joel does grumpy reassurance so well, he really would tell you that it’s just a bad storm, you’re safe inside, he made sure to check and to go to bed and you trust him but like you said this is a deeply rooted fear and I think once Joel realizes that he’s quick to get up, to try and soothe you because you do look so panicked and all he can think about it making that stop

Even if he’s exhausted, even if it’s been a long day for you both and he can’t ever get much rest anyways, he couldn’t care less about all that, in that moment he’s just worried about you and I just keep thinking about how open and careful his body language would be, approaching you slowly because he doesn’t want to startle you any further than you already are, holding his hands out to you because he knows it helps to have something/someone to anchor yourself with when this kind of fear comes on

Goddd think about his voice would sound, trying to pull your focus to him, to the sound of his voice that’s firm as always is but a little less gruff now, softer, comforting

“Hey, hey nothing bad’s gonna happen, I’ve gotcha. Just focus on me.”

“I’m right here…not gonna let anything happen, it’ll pass over us soon. You’re okay…”

Like !!! please…Joel letting you hold onto his hand, leading you away from the windows, and physically creating a shield with his body for you against them, almost like it’s an instinct for him which ofc it is!! And this all being even before anything has really been said or done between you both makes it very intimate too, that he’s trying to calm you down and comfort you when there’s a million and one thoughts going through your mind and one of them is worry that he’s upset with you for being scared and he just isn’t

In my feelings now ahh! As hardened as Joel is and can be, the protector in him also goes hand in hand with that and there’s a level of protection that also is about comfort and vulnerability and it’s like he can’t help but take that on!

And to get even more self indulgent: finding yourself wrapped in his arms, whether in a hug or laying back down to sleep! I cry!

[edai-crplpnk]

I'm so happy I found someone that also likes Shibi and Shino 💚

I love them!!

Every so often I rewatch/reread the tiny moment they have after the Kankurou fight and it's so soft...

I like that Shino calls him Oyaji, too. I feel like most people would expect him to be quite formal and use Otou-san or Chichi-ue even (like I think Sasuke does?) but he doesn't.

And also Shibi says he used his hive to clean the poison and 1 I feel like having your hive inside someone or someone's hive inside you is a pretty intimate and vulnerable experience and 2 I assume it means the beetle absorbed the poison and likely died, so that's a sacrifice to make on Shiib's end.

Anyway, they look close and like they love and trust each other a lot and I am 🥺 about it. I don't headcanon that Shibi is a "perfect" father, especially given that I haven't been very easy on him writing his backstory honestly, but I think he's a really good man and that Shino never doubts his support at least. I imagine him to maybe be the kind of father that Shino always know he can trust and could come to with anything without fear of being rejected or judged, but also who struggles to actually act on that connection and show affection to his son, so there's this weird ambivalence of a genuine connection and care and love and trust, but also some distance between them that they're both not so great at crossing.

Now I will shamefully plug my Aburame clan fic haha: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46041961/

I'd like to write some Shibi-centric fics in the future. I had started to write one about Shino's birth a long time ago but I haven't come back to it yet. Maybe later this year! For once I had a great title idea lmao

[rowiewritesstuff]

Hello there ! I would like to ask for a match-up please♡ <:) possibly with TFP Autobots or Cons (only if you feel like doing it♡)

My name is Michaela and i'm 19. My height is 5'3 (159cm) and i am a ginger with mid long hair, freckles all over my face and honey brown colored eyes. My skin is pretty pale so i ususally wear light colored clothes like soft green and cream colored shirts (i mostly wear very baggy clothes cause i'm pretty slim) etc.♡ ^^

I'd say i'm pretty calm/shy person but sometimes my zoomies hit in and i have the urge to run around and playfight with anyone and anything i see (i love playfighting) :D i also very much enjoy spiritual conversations, stargazing, playing games and i'm also a sucker for atronomy. I love learning all about space. I'm pretty loyal and affectionate (ahem touch starved ahem) person what comes to friends and family i'm very protective of them. I am used to helping people so of course if you ask me for any help or anything in particular i am here to help. <3 I often try to play things cool and calm when anything bad happens but i am actualy screaming on the inside. I'm very careful and fearfull. I'm also trying to be open minded as much as possible and kind to everyone as long as they are kind to me back. I am basically your mirror. I also LOVE animals. Mostly parrots😭❤️ they are just so adorable when they show you affection🥺 the type of person when they see a random cat on street to stop by and just pet it or any animal😭❤️

Now what comes to my body i have a pear shaped body with pretty thin waist and a lot of small and big marks all over my arms, hands and legs. I sadly suffer from asthma so i need my inhaler at all costs if i ever get a asthma attack <:/ i am also lactose intolerant so milk is another no no for me. I rather spend time indoors but still i'm open minded for a nice car ride to any lake or water. I love swimming especially in sea.^^♡♡ my fav colors are orange, yellow, turquoise, black, soft green and white♡

I think that's all. I apologize if this is chaotic but i've never wrote a request :( i hope it's not too much♡♡ if you couldn't come up with anything feel free not to write anything at all <3 thank you so so much !♡♡♡♡

A daily note to take care of yourself, to drink water and eat enough food to keep yourself healthy !♡ ^^

I match you with: Optimus Prime!

You met Optimus during a Decepticon attack. You of course were taken to the base and assigned a guardian- Optimus Prime himself. Optimus first kept you at a distance, not wanting to get too close to you in fear you’d be used against him by the Decepticons. 

One day when Optimus was driving you home you yelled at him to stop. You were both in a secluded area out in the country. You jumped out of his cab as soon as he came to a stop and squealed in delight. He transformed thinking something was wrong but saw you looking at the sky.

“What are you looking at?” Optimus asked.

“The stars, the moon- everything.” You sighed happily. “In the cities, the smog makes it hard to see the stars. Here, you can see everything. It’s amazing.”

Optimus looked at you in awe, then to the sky. He’d forgotten what it was like to just enjoy the wonders of the world. He sat down and looked down when he felt something on his hand. You were cuddling to him for warmth as you fell asleep. He made sure that you got home safely, even going as far as placing you gently in your bed from your open window.

Optimus began taking you on regular trips to see things you liked. One time he took you to the ocean so you could play in the water. You didn’t care you were missing your swimsuit and simply ran in head first. Ratchet later scolded you when you got sick.

One day he took you to the jungle to see some monkeys and parrots, and you ended up being attacked by a tiger. He quickly scooped you into his hand and away from the tiger trying to eat you. 

When you started to breathe oddly after the tiger attack, he ran to Ratchet. Ratchet shook his head at you and handed you your inhaler. Optimus asked you what it was, and Ratchet explained. Optimus was concerned and began treating you even more like precious glass.

When it came to Decepticons, you were very cautious. You would always run and hide and call the base. One day a Vehicon scooped you up to hold you hostage against the Prime and you were terrified. You were frozen in their servo while they mocked Optimus.

“Let them go!” Arcee growled out.

“Fat chance Autobot scum!” They squeeze you tighter and you begin to panic. Your asthma begins to act up and the Vehicon looks down at you in confusion. “Is it broken?” 

Bumblebee takes the opportunity to slam into the Decepticon and snatch your body flying through the air. The rest of the Autobots quickly defeat the Vehicons and take you back to base to get your inhaler. From that moment on, Optimus was so scared you’d die before he could confess his feelings.

Optimus picked you up and placed you on his shoulder as he went to the top of the base. He sat down and offered his hands to climb on. He looked down at you with love. “I… must confess something.” 

You looked up with a knowing expression. “I love you too, Optimus.” 

The shock on his face was priceless. He then smiled softly, pulling you closer to his face. “Thank you, little star.”

[s-creations]

Dude DUDE I ABSOLUTELY LOVE ur writing. U have a way of just weaving everything into this beautiful tapestry of a story. I'm in absolute awe. I really like ur YPRG Au!! Anything related to it I inhale. It's so cool and interesting the way every character interacts with each other and the world. And I'm so so soft for both sets of bros🥺. Would it be ok if u did 🌱 and ☁️ for them? Only if u want to of course no pressure!!

First off, THANK YOU! This was an awesome message to wake up to! This is going to sound absolutely corny, but I love hearing from people about my stories. Because there are some times where I really don’t feel confident in what I’ve written. It’s nice to hear/read that I’m somewhat competent. Again, thank you for the kind words!

I too am also soft for the bros. XD

With that said, I’d be happy to answer your emoji asks! (Original Post)

🌱 SEEDLING - what is their most vivid memory from childhood?

Wario - When Waluigi was born, though he’ll never ever admit it. He swears if he was even remotely artistically competent, he’d be able to paint a picture of what the room looked like, where their parents were, and how it looked when he got to hold Waluigi for the first time. It’s so well stamped into his mind that he recalls it on days he’s really stressed out. As a reminder for why he keeps working so hard.

Waluigi - The first ‘invention’ he and Wario made. He barely spoke at the time as Wario knew what Waluigi needed, so he never had to ask for anything. But working on making a prototype for their ‘Chores Robot’ (so the worry of keeping the house clean wasn’t such a burden), it was the first time that Waluigi took over. Telling Wario what he needed and what part needed to go where. Even if it didn’t work (seriously, why the heck did they think sticks and rocks would be good materials?) Waluigi was still thrilled by the idea of building. 

Mario - It was a conversation between him and his father. Learning about how sick Luigi was and how scary it could be. But also talking about what they could do, together, to keep the younger twin safe. It was the first promise Mario made to anyone. A promise to his parents, said to his father, that he would keep Luigi safe and well, no matter what. Because he loves Luigi, and he wouldn’t let anything keep them apart if he could help it.

Luigi - When he was able to go outside for the first time. While the twins were a little older at this point, Luigi’s early early memories consisted of white walls and doctors. This was the first solid memory he had. He remembered it was nearing the end of Spring, if not already in Summer, when he saw something outside the window that he really wanted to see. He was well enough to leave the house, but still fearful, until Mario agreed to take him outside. While he could only reach the edge of the patio, he was still able to get a better look at the flowers that interested him. Mario told him they were looking at roses. Those are his favorite flower to this day.

☁️ CLOUD - a soft headcanon

Wario - He loves to hear Waluigi snoring. It lets him know that his brother’s still there. He wouldn’t listen to it on end, but it’s a comforting reminder.

Waluigi - He started to learn how to cook so it was one less burden Wario and his mother had to deal with. But he says it's because no one in the family besides himself knows what spices work together.

Mario - He’s very shy about it, but he loves to sing. Mainly to Luigi with a lullaby from their childhood, on days when they're feeling nostalgic and missing their parents. But…if asked…he wouldn’t say ‘no’ if Peach asked to hear him. 

Luigi - He took up baking as a way to stay close to their mom, as well as to learn how to embrace every second given to him. Because nothing lets you think about life like waiting for cake to rise.

[finniestoncrane]

(Please do this request when youre ready and relaxed enough for it ♡ i know you get a million of these and i dont wanna put pressure on you for thus ;w; )

I always loved the idea of soft arkham knight scarecrow. Mans always working himself and doesnt want to take time off for himself, but sees y/n(or reader really) inna soft type of way. Of course hes an ass or just mean sometimes, but those tender moments? Just jon gazing (or just staring holes) into his lovers eyes and promise hell burn the world for them, these tend to come out during sex or when hes beat tired.

Maybe something like jon hurting himself, and at first hes defensive and pushing away, til reader finally tells him he needs help with that atleast, so he allows it and it turns to a soft moment with kissss and gentle words qwq ❤🥺

Just,, soft jon is my fave, even if its little to none

Again!! Pls dont rush this and make sure youre in a good mental spot to do this ❤ i dont wish to stress you out with more request Q-Q

Tender

Arkham!Scarecrow x GN!Reader, word count: 500 as if i needed tender by blur to carry more emotional weight, but anyway i love soft jon, i love boys who are the masters of fear because underneath they're just very scared 🧡🎃 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: injury, blood, kissing

From the other side of the makeshift ‘lab’ you heard the gentle tinkling of smashed glass hitting the floor, turning quickly to find Jonathan kneeling, balanced on his weaker leg, lifting the pieces from the ground.

“Do you need help?”

“Perfectly capable, thank you.”

You approached him anyway, slowly, quietly, until you noticed that one of the shards had cut his thumb which was now bleeding profusely, droplets spilling onto the floor, mixing with the orange liquid that oozed into the cracks in the tiles.

“Oh no, you dropped a vial of the toxin?”

“Plenty more.”

“Your thumb, Jon…”

“Also fine.”

“But, the wound is open and the toxin-”

“It doesn’t have any effect on me anymore.”

He was indeed immune to the effects, either inherently or through years of exposure, but it was the blood that caused you concern.

“You’re bleeding though. A lot. Let me clean it up for you, please.”

Placing gloves over your hands, you cleaned up the wound, making sure there was no glass left embedded into his cracked, filthy finger. It was deep enough to warrant a couple of stitches, something Jonathan was more than happy to allow you to do for him.

“This might sting.”

“I’m very used to this specific pain.”

You tried to smile at the humour, dark as it was, but you knew it came from a place of genuine hurt. As you watched him surreptitiously out of the corner of your eye, he yawned, and you felt something invisible but strong tugging at your heart.

“You know, Jon… you should get some sleep. You don’t need to do everything alone, or be awake when I’m awake. There’s no need to be a martyr to the cause.”

He looked at himself in the dull reflection of the metal table.

“I’m afraid I already am.”

Bypassing the social conventions set in place by the nature of your working relationship, you took his cheek in your hand, turning him to face you, offering him a smile, his cold skin warming under your palm quickly.

As you only just grew accustomed to the fact that he had allowed such a close, intimate gesture to go unchecked, you were quickly taken aback as he leaned in, grabbing your face, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss took your breath away, how surprisingly tender it was, the feeling behind it. A drop of passion, a hint of desperation, vulnerability. And when your lips had parted, he remained close, stopping for a moment to catch his breath with his forehead against yours.

And when you had prepared yourself for the sweet moment to end, he quickly turned his head, a kiss on your cheek, the side of your neck, round to the front as his hands found your thighs, clawing at them. You inhaled sharply, tossing your head back to allow him more room to explore you, but he was done. It was over.

He pulled away, uttering a soft thank you before returning to the work bench. Tender, sweet, healing. You hoped he would remember the gesture, and the unspoken commitment to providing him with more when needed.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

A wild Steezy has appeared

Prompt 21: You bring me comfort I haven’t felt in a very long time” with Loki🥺 simply because the thought of it both breaks and melts my heart

Guys look, a wild Steezy!

"My dear?" I whisper, cracking open the door to Loki's chambers, quiet sniffles coming from the inside. My heart breaks in my chest at the news, learning through Frigga just moments ago that Loki was made aware of his illegitimacy. Frigga herself knew it but she was heartbroken to learn that Loki had learned the hard way.

He's so smart, he always has been. But sometimes he's too smart for his own good.

"Loki?" I ask, stepping up to the bed where he lays, trembling. His face is tucked securely in the pillows, loud sobs leaving him as I tear up, sitting down beside him on the bed.

"Did Frigga tell you?" He asks, turning his head to look up at me with big, sad eyes. Tears are running down his cheeks, his cheeks flushed from hours of crying. "That I am a monster?" He hiccups, sitting up beside me on the bed as I shush him, reaching out to cup his cheeks in my hands, not letting him shoo me away.

"You are not a monster. You bring me comfort I haven't felt in a very long time. Since I was a child." My voice is shaky but he knows I'm being truthful, his eyes closing briefly as more tears spill down his soft cheeks. "You are my protector. My husband." He sighs, falling into my as my fingers rake through his hair, cradling him to my chest.

"How didn't I know?" He breathes, speaking more to himself than to me but I answer anyways.

"Because your mother loves you and would never want you to question her love for you-"

"I was born to be a peace treaty- a means to an end." He talks over me, shaking his head with a whimper. He's angry once more, sitting up while he rubs at his eyes. "What a stupid glorious purpose- a dream of a child." He cries, gripping at his hair but I wrap my fingers around his wrists, pulling them away from his handsome face. He looks at me, frantic and fearful, but I just move closer to him, taking his face in my hands once more as I urge him to take a breath.

"You are a living, breathing God, Loki, and my husband." I remind him with a small smile, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss to his forehead while whispering. "That is your glorious purpose."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi

@crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @minjix @luvrosee @storytellingwitht @savageneversaw