#i cannot see him enjoying 'being tamed'

[itsabardknocklife]

Going into the Rolan tag is always such an experience for me, because I often get the feeling I'm the only person picking up Dom vibes from him.

[crazy-only]

nsfw alphabet oscar piastri edition !

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

sweet baby is probably making sure you came, getting in between your legs and licking you clean like the tease he is before cleaning you up properly with a towel and getting you your favorite drink. he jokes around a lot but does not play when it comes to caring for you.

b = body part (favorite body part on themselves, as well as their partner’s)

oscar is OBSESSED with your fucking tits. oh my god you cannot convince me otherwise. every time he sees your rack on display in a low-cut shirt (regardless of your size) he gets turned on. it’s gotten to the point where he has to take a “bathroom break” during family dinners because he just can’t believe you’re his.

once you guys got more comfortable during sex, he got you to ride his face, and oh my god oscar was so happy in that moment. after that, he made sure at least weekly you were nearly suffocating him with your sweet pussy, so, long story short, he likes his nose because you also like it! ≥︺‿︺≤

c = cum (anything to do with cum)

baby cums so much you get worried you might get knocked up sometimes (even though you’re on the pill). if you haven’t cum yet, his stringy ropes will definitely hit all the right spots, leaving you in a moaning mess.

sometimes he cums on your belly and licks it off you when you’re insecure that day, just to show you how much he worships your body.

oscar also loves making you taste your own cum after fingering you slowly for an hour. you just taste so good! he can’t help it. (>‿◠)

d = dirty secret (dirty secret of theirs!)

oscar secretly wants to fuck you while you’re tied up. he seems like the type to joke around and make sarcastic remarks during sex, but deep down he’s fucking sadistic. he wants to see how helpless you can get under his hands.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

yes. just yes.

haha just kidding. i actually don’t think he’s that experienced, just because of the fact he’s probably been focused on racing his whole life and never really had a chance to hook up with people. naturally, his body count is low.

that being said, though, he’s not scared at all to try new things with you. oscar has no shame when it comes to making you guys feel good—so don’t worry about experience!

f = favorite position (cowgirl, missionary, etc.)

oscar loves fucking you face to face, with your hands held above your head in his left hand and his other hand fondling your tits. he’s big on seeing your reactions, and making you face him while yours contorts with pleasure and pain.

g = goofy (are they serious or more humorous in the moment?)

oscar’s actually pretty scary when it comes to freaky time. you love to tease him just to be a brat, but when your man finally snaps, oscar can’t help it but show you who’s in control. he loves a good laugh, and sometimes when you guys are having soft sex, it’s not rare to hear giggling, but in all other occasions, your man is taming you.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?)

this man could care less about the hair situation down there. he shaves and whatnot so it’s never uncomfortable for him while racing, but he knows you like it when there’s a happy trail for you to get entranced in. he also loves forcing you down his cock so your nose is surrounded by his pubes. it makes him so much harder.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

oh my god this man literally asked you to be his girlfriend with a whole garden of candles and roses. he plays it off like these romantic moments are just to get you flustered, but he truly does enjoy making a good cute memory with you and learning more about you.

j = jack off (masturbation head canon)

oscar doesn’t have much time for getting himself off. (◞‸◟) regardless of his horniness level, most nights, he just falls right to sleep. when he does have a spare minute, though, he jacks off to videos of you moaning his name. he imagines it were your fingers wrapped around himself.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

like mentioned previously, oscar loves to tie your ass up, making you whimper and cum several times over before he even thinks about himself.

other than rigging, oscar loves some good food play, like eating whipped cream or something sweet from your tits until you beg for his dick.

l = location (favorite place to have sex!)

he is utterly addicted to fucking you in the car. he loves it when you think you’re the boss and drive him around town. even after you scraped another car trying to park (totally the other car’s fault), he still ate you out, reassuring you that he can afford to fix a little mistake like yours.

extra points if he gets you to suck his dick while he drives. he saw you cum in your panties one time just from sucking him off, and he found it really hot, but he knows you’d be so embarrassed if he ever found out, so he never said anything about it.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

absolutely anything to do with your tits turns him on. if you’re in the pool or it’s cold and your nipples become prominent—boom! he’s bricked up. if you spill something on your shirt and you try to clean it up with a napkin—you guessed it! man’s bricked up!

he also fucking loves it when you’re a brat, even though it seems otherwise. when you stick your tongue out at him, all he can think about is that tongue getting forced down your throat by his dick. it’s obvious because his cheeks turn red.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn off’s)

oscar doesn’t fuck with blood play or any cutting of the skin for that matter. it’s inconvenient as he trains daily and can’t afford injuries.

he also doesn’t really enjoy being dommed for a whole week. he’s got to have at least 60% control in the bedroom for him to be happy.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

oscar loves driving you insane with his tongue on your pussy, eating you out how he knows you like it, but he honestly loves it more when you suck him off. it’s just a power thing, and you don’t complain because it also turns you on. ( ^ω^)

he doesn’t mind how good or bad you are at blowjobs. as long as you’re putting in the effort, this man is bound to cum.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

oscar leans more on the slow side just because he wants to torture you and show you who’s in control. every now and then when you’ve proven your worth he’ll go fast and rough the way you like it, because, at the end of the day, he’s whipped for you.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

oh my god i just know oscar has a quickie before every race to calm his nerves down. if he doesn’t listen to music beforehand he has to chill out in some other way, no? usually he prefers you sucking his dick off in the family bathroom before hopping in the f1 car, but when he doesn’t have you, he makes due with his hands ＞﹏＜ (though he swears he preforms better after a blowjob from you).

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

your man loves risking being caught while fucking you because he simply doesn’t give a fuck. he personally thinks the chance of getting caught makes the whole situation hotter, and loves covering your moans with wet kisses.

to experiment with non-vanilla type sex, he’s more than happy to do so. he really doesn’t mind trying new things, because baby knows what to fall back on if you’re not getting the pleasure you deserve. (>‿◠)

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

oscar can go for as long as you need. when he has the time, he loves to overstimulate you until you’re near passing out. all of the training he’s done is more than enough to fuck you hard like you want it!

t = toys (do they own toys and use them? on a partner or on themselves?)

due to his busy schedule, baby has a toy that he knows will get him off quick and take away the horniness for at least a few hours. for himself, he’s never really adventured into the world of sex toys, preferring his hands or basic toy.

when he met you, though, he started purchasing all sorts of gadgets just to drive you crazy. his favorite one to use on you is the vibrator with a suction cup that attaches to the ground. he makes you ride it and cum all over it, stroking himself at the erotic scene before fucking you hard with his own dick, making you say that his is better.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

like mentioned previously, oscar teases you endlessly, mainly just to show you who’s the boss. you’re just so cute under his lengthy fingers; who wouldn’t tease you a bit?

v = volume (how loud are they? what sounds do they make? etc.)

oh god oscar lets it all out when he’s fucking your pussy. after a day of dealing with the press and holding in all of the rude comebacks he could’ve made to the reporters, oscar needs to let off his steam vocally. he groans and tells you dirty things, calling you his slut, not bothering to keep his volume down for the neighboring hotel rooms. frankly, he finds it a bit funny for them to have to hear all of his sounds.

bonus points if he can make you scream cutely as well! ≧ω≦

w = wild card (a random head canon for the person)

“mmph, fuckkk oscarrrr, feels sooo goood,” you moan with your eyes closed, focused on riding his nose while his tongue did magic to your clit. oscar just hummed in response, the vibrations going right to your core. at first you were a bit worried in case you happened to suffocate your man, but thankfully, the worry dissipated and you were riding your high, oscar with his hands on your thighs. “so fucking hot,” he’d grumble from under you, making you ride his face even faster. when you were close, oscar made sure to tug you down so he could fuck you good with his tongue, lewd noises echoing in the room.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on beneath the clothes)

wow your mans is packing. oscar acts chill but that’s because he’s able to be so confident with his figure! there’s no reason to be insecure because baby is packing, and he knows it.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

his is quite average, or if anything, below average. he’s learned how to resist his urges when training, and for that reason, only really gets hot and bothered when he sees you! ~>_<~ as long as you’re nearby, all he can think about is that pretty body of yours!

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

oscar falls asleep rather quickly because he knows he’ll be able to have you all to himself the day after. he knows you’re loyal to him and you’ll also want to spend some quality time with him. you’re his safe space, so naturally, he falls asleep around you! *^_^*

notes:

omg i wrote a whole fxcking report on this man’s sex habits holy sh!t. i wish i could write essays like how i write smut. =_=

but yes, hope you enjoyed reading! <3 who should i do next?

[mxtxfanatic]

Bing-ge and Victim's Entitlement as Portrayed by MXTX

I was thinking about Bing-ge’s journey as an abuse victim into an abuser and how much the creation of Bing-mei is a critique on both the writing trope that creates Bing-ge as well as the societal expectations that drive it.

In the world of PIDW, one of Shen Yuan’s main critiques was about how terribly the young Luo Binghe is treated by the narrative, so much so that he views it as torture porn. From being abandoned as a baby, to being abused as a servant and watching his adoptive mother wither from sickness and die, to finding his way to Cang Qiong Mountain and suffering under a cruel shizun who then pushes him into hell, Shen Yuan finds all this unnecessarily cruel. However, Shang Qinghua knows that the trauma Luo Binghe suffers directly correlates to the enjoyment readers are meant to get out of the second half of the protagonist’s life when he becomes overpowered and primed for vengeance. Shen Yuan knows this, too, as this is the trope he girds himself with as Shen Qingqiu to work up the nerve to push his disciple into the Endless Abyss, to “earn” his happiness. However, is this a true happiness? Does the trauma justify any and all of Luo Binghe’s actions?

On the surface, Bing-ge seems happy! He is able to enact revenge on Shen Jiu—and demolish Cang Qiong Mountain Sect who acted as accomplices to his abuse—and was given narrative access to any and every woman of marriageable age who crossed his path. He is even able to destroy his world by merging the three realms with no consequences to himself. Bing-ge has seemingly reaped the twisted “reward” that having survived unconscionable abuse and abandonment from the time of his birth had sown for him, and PIDW readers were able to enjoy and defend Bing-ge’s later megalomaniacal actions directly because they had read through hundreds of pages of his ill-treatment beforehand. The worse Luo Binghe’s childhood was, the more they were willing to accept of his actions in adulthood. We see a similar thing take place in the SVSSS fandom: the reveal of Shen Jiu’s past as a child slave is used to justify his later abuse of his child disciples—children who had no hand in his trauma but who he has decided to bear the brunt of it, anyways. But Shen Jiu lived a very unfulfilling adulthood due to his unwarranted actions until his untimely death. Is Luo Binghe any different?

Enter Bing-mei: the revised protagonist who abandons revenge in pursuit of experiencing genuine affection from the only person who gave it unconditionally. No, Bing-mei doesn’t get all the girls or all the power. He does not become the emperor of all three realms and he is not an uncontested leader that all conscious beings bow to. In fact, he is very tame and controlled in comparison to his PIDW counterpart despite not having complete control of his sword that amplifies his negative emotions. But when Bing-ge slips into the world of SVSSS and discovers that, despite all of this, Bing-mei has an intact world, platonic relationships, and a shizun who loves him, he’s willing to throw it all away to experience that same life. Bing-ge is revealed to be the unhappy, unfulfilled one, because the one thing he wanted—genuine unconditional love—was the one thing that he cannot earn or forcibly take. No amount of audience hype can change the fact that Bing-ge must leave behind the happy Bingqiu couple to return to his destroyed world in his unsatisfying reality.

This isn’t just a theme in SVSSS, either; it’s present in all of MXTX’s works in how people—both characters and the irl fandom—react to antagonists and asshole characters who have experienced trauma. In mdzs: a female cultivator tries to say that Jin Ling endangering other cultivators should be forgiven “since he’s an orphan.” Jiang Cheng throws his parents’ and sister’s death around to justify being an unrepentant serial killer. Jin Guangyao cries about how much his father hates him compared to the legitimate Jin heirs that he murdered. In tgcf: Qi Rong escapes discipline at every turn because his mother had to escape with him from his abusive father, and Mu Qing’s transgressions against the marginalized are ignored because “he was poor, once.” All of these characters have their actions whitewashed both in their stories and by their fandoms at large because their defenders believe that their trauma excuses any of their subsequent behavior.

Yet, MXTX does not prescribe to this idea. Notice the pattern of how the above characters end their stories. Jiang Cheng tanks his reputation and loses the respect of his only living relative. Jin Guangyao and Qi Rong die. But Jin Ling experiences setback after setback until he adjusts his behavior, and Mu Qing had to earnestly apologize under harrowing circumstances to be forgiven. It is not characters who seek justice for being harmed who are punished in these novels but those who persevere in their entitlement to do whatever they want because they were once harmed, thereby eventually destroy any goodwill others, particularly their loved ones, had towards them. The characters who are able to contain their actions to aim only at those who wronged them or else honestly reflect on their sense of entitlement in order to change for the better become well-liked by their peers. And as for Bing-ge: his inability to change within the narrative of PIDW may have “earned” him all the material things his world could offer and the affections of an unseen audience, besides, but he misses out on true human connection and love. These are the things he can never forcibly take, because in real life, no amount of trauma would entitle him—or anyone—to those things.

[obriengf]

Undercover Darlings || Mitch Rapp x Reader

Summary: It's Valentines day, and you and Mitch are playing fake lovers.  Words: 1.9k Warnings: swearing, cuteness, mitch being sassy to stan Notes: guys no this didn't turn out how i wanted?? I'm so sorry!

"Put your arm around me." Words were pushed through gritted teeth as you tried to portray a smile of realism, one of joyousness and devotion to the overly familiar man sitting beside you. You could feel his chest rise and fall with a murmur before he released a small sigh - irritation was imminent, but what you couldn't see was the ghost of a smile lifting at his lips. Paris was beautiful this time of year - on the cusp of falling snow, but still clear enough to enjoy the elegance of such a romantic city. The architecture stood sharp as you peered around the vast space before you, eyes gazing over couples as they celebrated a holiday made purely for love. It created a warmth within you, only complemented by the additional weight thrown over your shoulders and the small tug of your body against the firmness of another's chest. A smirk found its way among the contouring of your facial features - amusement etching into the corners of your eyes and the scrunch of your nose. You could feel the muscles of the arm tense, and you knew that you had him where you wanted him. Your partner was never one to show emotion with ease if it didn't consist of anger or irritability, nor were you one to often show roguery or mischievousness. But Mitch Rapp, the big bad Assassin, brought that side out of you so damn easily. It was an enigma just how he managed to do so, but by now it was comfortable more than anything. A small twist of your head allowed lips to press to the man's scruffed cheek, his beard beginning to grow back through despite your protests - it only made his want for it to grow even faster. You could feel a deep breath as it filled his lungs, his heart hammering against the curve of your shoulder blade. A tone of sweetness fell so easily from your lips, "Thanks, sweetie." Mitch's arm squeezed your body, a warning more than a simple acknowledgment. He groaned quietly against the shell of your ear, "Don't push it."

To an estranged eye, the two of you would seem like a couple enjoying the presence of one another; soaking in the strong emotion of love as it filled the Parisian air, without a worry or care. However, that timeline of events was far from what led you both to this specific bench, in this specific park, watching a specific person as they dawdled at the base of France's tallest landmark. Your target was a man with a deep history of 'pissing off the wrong people', as Stan Hurley would put it so elegantly.

The man wasn't hard to miss; his stance tall and build hefty, eyes teetering on the edge of blackened hues, his behaviour shifty despite the experience that weighed so heavily behind him. He ran a weapons trade that spanned the distance of Europe and his focus was secured now upon the rest of the world. Which simply, cannot happen. Not when the Central Intelligence Agency had two of its most adaptable agents ready to stop him.

You had worked alongside Mitch for what seemed like forever when it was nearing almost five years. He objected to it at first, but you held persistence and dedication that your handler couldn't pass up, especially when it came down to taming the beast. It was quicker than expected when you both fell into a routine and soon enough, the quirks and characteristics that made you both so incredibly different were the structure of your unique relationship.

Without declaration, he would burn the world to keep you warm.

"Where is he going?" Mitch's voice hissed, your concentrated daze breaking before looking toward your target. He was meant to be meeting with somebody, however, it wasn't in the cards for his early departure. Your partner cursed as he stood up and your body went with him, a shadow to his lead. Mitch's arm fell from you before his fingers slid nonchalantly with your own; both a wordless protection and tenacity to keep your cover from being blown. Mitch rolled his lips before moving forward, "C'mon, we're gonna lose him."

You couldn't help the furrowed brows of annoyance as static buzzed in your ear, a baffled Stan Hurley blasting question after question in such an incoherence as Mitch led you through the bustling crowds. You side-eyed your partner as he gave you a reciprocated expression before his honey-coloured eyes rolled in an atypical fashion. "He's on the move.", You spoke quietly, hoping that the projection of your voice was enough to be recognised among the numerous conversations you were surrounded by.

"Well, you better fucking catch up to him!" Your handler replied, and Mitch rolled his eyes once more.

"No shit." Your partner's reply with hasty and simple, causing the utmost satisfaction for you both as he was reprimanded briefly afterwards by the voice in your ears.

The man led you both toward a Valentines market; the populated street covered in red from head to toe, acoustic tunes exuding romance playing from street performers, and couples shining their brightest heart eyes at one another. It was the perfect place to get lost in, and in the moment you hoped for dear life that your target didn't know that he was in fact, a target.

Mitch held your hand tighter before tugging you against his side; the familiar weight of his arm now slung back over your shoulders. You blended in perfectly, a flawless seam among the budding bustle of festivalgoers. The proximity bordered on 'too natural' and you wondered if Mitch felt even the slightest complacency as you did at this opportune moment. It was a simple question of 'what if' - in an alternative world where you both weren't government-employed assassins, would your lives be easy and intertwined by fate, where maybe the two of you could live a happily ever aft-

"Rose for the madam?" The thick accent made you jolt, the silly thoughts intruding your mind now gone as Mitch brought you both to a stop. You looked toward a small French man, a stand of explosive colours serving as a beautiful backdrop behind him. Flowers of all sorts were gathered into small bouquets, but the one that stood out most to you was the perfect red petals of a single rose as it was positioned for Mitch's attention.

You were anticipating a refusal, at least a polite decline, with your partner usually one to skip the antics and keep his eyes on the prize. Which is why it took you by surprise when he handed over a few euros, taking the delicate flower in exchange. You didn't often see him smile but the genuine grin that followed and the kindness in his eyes was more than enough to make your heart thump, thump, thump.

Mitch's brow rose as he looked down at your expression of puzzlement, a chuckle of the utmost quietness falling from his lips as he held the rose toward you, "What? It's Valentine's day."

"You just continue to surprise me, is all." You replied, accepting the gift. Your shoulders rose nonchalantly before you peered not too far ahead at your target as he typed away ferociously at his phone. He was quick to move again, and it was your feet now that led the two of you after his further retreat.

Mitch scoffed, his spare hand scratching at his scruffed cheek; a nervous habit you managed to notice easily but kept as a secret for you and only you to know. He cleared his throat, "I'm just tryn' to keep up our cover. We're meant to be in love, remember?"

"I think you're just going soft on me, Rapp."

You heard a grumble in reply and it made you smirk, his voice hiding as it fell gently into the collar of his jacket, "Whatever."

Navigating through the crowds was becoming more difficult, regardless of the tight grip Mitch had on your hand. You weren't sure whether it was to keep you close so you wouldn't get lost, or as a means to make you both move faster, but he wasn't planning on letting go anytime soon.

A familiar crack of static buzzed in your earpiece as the line opened, and you were greeted once more by your handler's voice with further direction. "We're close to your location, he's gonna run outta road soon so wherever this fucker is going, it can't be too far away. Stay vigilant, don't blow your cover."

You and Mitch replied with brief acknowledgment, your surroundings shifting to a smaller space down a city backstreet. Your mission had taken a turn the moment you left the gardens of the Eifel Tower, but you needed to make the best of a bad situation. No matter how frustrating it may be - and if it meant following a dangerous firearm trafficker through the heart of a love festival, then so be it.

The further he went, the less people there were to get in your way. It was a bittersweet concoction of keeping your eyes on him more clearly, versus his prevalent possibility of catching you out. Your target's paranoia was bubbling to the surface as his gaze flickered between the incoming messages on his phone and his surroundings. He was on edge, waiting with anticipation, searching for something. It was as if he could read your mind as he peered over his shoulder with the sceptical feeling that he was being watched.

Mitch swore as he pulled you to the side, avoiding the other man's eyes for a mere moment as he hissed toward you, "Kiss me. Now. Quick."

"What -"

"Kiss me."

You looked at him in confusion and it made your partner's eyes roll before his hands cupped your cheeks. They were splayed over your skin, warm and surprisingly soft, the perfect cradle for when he pressed his lips so carefully against yours. Mitch didn't want to scare you - knowing damn well that you would either kiss him back or sock him for his advances. Luckily, you found comfort in his taste and touch, and it took nothing more for you to melt into his tenderness.

Kissing Mitch wasn't on your cards for today, and you never would've thought that you'd be standing with your arms dangling around his neck, his fingers pressing gently against your jaw as his lips slid and licked with your own. For someone who was losing his patience earlier in the day, Mitch was taking all the time in the world to have you in his grasp. Holding you carefully. Cherishing your lips.

"Have you still got eyes on him?" Stan's voice sounded muffled as you poured every ounce of attention into Mitch. It was white noise, along with the music flowing from the local bands and the chatter of citizens moving around you. "Rapp, Y/L/N. Have you got eyes on the goddamn target?!"

Mitch jumped back slightly - lips still pursed, eyes fluttering as if he was waking up from a dream. He had never looked so at ease, until Stan's words finally caught up to him and his attention shifted to where the target was once standing. Where he was, no more.

Your eyes widened, locking with the honey brown of the man beside you. It was in unison when you both groaned, realization hitting that you did in fact, not, have your sight on the target.

"Fuck."

[sivyera]

Httyd request here!

The gang’s reaction to reader having a cannibalistic dragon?

(Death song, Deathgripper, Cavern crasher, Red death, Slither song, etc.)

Fem!reader

that's such a cool idea! problem is that red death and some other cannibalistic dragons cannot be tamed, i know that, so let's pretend that they can be tamed. i really hope you like it, enjoy!

httyd characters reacting on you having a cannibalistic dragon

ft. hiccup, eret, tuffnut, snotlout, grimmel, astrid, ruffnut, valka,

༺☆༻

⤷  Hiccup

-Hiccup would find it so cool but dangerous at the same time. He'd be really proud of you and he'll brag about it to others, saying something like "yeah heh my love actually has a cannibalistic dragon Deathgripper (od other dragon you like), she tamed him, cool hm?"

He'd ask a lot of question and will definitely write them into his notebook. He'd wanna know everything that's possible, most of all he'd want to know how you managed to tame it. He would touch it only if you are near so he's 100% sure that your dragon won't accidently hurt him, because your dragon listens only to you.

⤷  Eret

-Eret would be really surprise and he wouldn't trust your dragon that much. I mean he still has some hunter reflexes so even know when he doesn't hunt them anymore, he's still focused and careful around them, just in case after all they're just animals..

After some time he will get used to it, he would want to hear what your dragon can actually do, how to met it, tame it, all these stuff... maybe he would be interested more in some cool stories/memories of yours with your dragon like hunting with it. He'd also be really proud of you, telling others how cool his girlfriend is.

⤷  Tuffnut

-Tuff would find it epic and awesome and so cool! Like you managed to tame a cannibalistic dragon and now you are dating him?! He'd brag about you to his twin sister or Snotlout all the time, just to make them jealous.

He'd ask a lot of questions like if your dragon ever eat other dragon in front of you, if it does it often etc... but he'd never go and pet your dragon, never! When is Ruff being a little more annoying then usual, he'll tell her something like "you know what, i will tell y/n to come over with y/d/n (your dragons name), i bet it's hungry!" and this will shut her up most of the time.

⤷  Snotlout

-Snoutlout would brag about it the most, like really! Mostly to Hiccup or Fishlegs telling them how you're cooler then them and much tougher and badass. From the start he'll be confident saying stuff like he can tame dragon like this, that he himself has a pretty dangerous dragon, but soon as he hears your dragons roar, he's gone.

At night, when no ones listening, he whispers into your ear that he's proud of you and that you are strong and all these stuff just because you managed to tame your "special" dragon.

⤷  Grimmel

-Well Grimmel has himself cannibalistic dragons but he still holds big respect for you, because he control his dragons with venom, you somehow managed to tame it with your bare hands! He was thinking about it whole night when you first told him.

I believe he'd be more careful around your dragon because he can't control him, it's "wild" animal yk, so he's more careful because he knows what they can do.

⤷  Astrid

-Astrid would have a huge respect for you, because of that. She'd also ask a lot of questions and she would want to introduce your dragon to hers because Stormfly has her venomous thorns so Astrid thinks it will be alright.

She will often stare at you from a certain distance when you interact with your dragon, she admires you. She always say that you and your dragon are like beauty and the beast. Deep inside she thinks that you are much better then her, much stronger and cooler, but she'd never say that.

⤷  Ruffnut

-Ruff's reaction would be pretty similar to her twin brother's. She'd ask a lot of questions and be really really curious, with confidence until she sees your dragon, then all of the sudden she's hugging you from behind.

She admires you a lot, she finds you really really strong and badass because of it. And when she cannot sleep or when she's bored she will ask you to tell her the story how you tamed your dragon over and over again until she falls asleep, it's so cool that it's like a fairy tail to her, almost unreal.

⤷  Valka

-Valka lived with dragons most of her life so she knows everything but when you told her that you have a cannibalistic dragon (probably deathgripper) she was surprised and curious.

She'd want to meet him and try to "tame" it again, she knows dragon body language so if she notice that she's making your dragon uncomfortable, she'll stop. But be prepared for tons of questions even more then Hiccup would ask. She's really proud of you and really glad that she has such a strong partner.

[ddollfface]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤…

Types of Readers Baki Men Would and Wouldn't Get Along With

Guys, I think I popped off... (don't say anything about my grammar)

Kaiou Retsu 

Like: If we're talking about romantically, I think Retsu would be the best fit with somebody who's strong, confident, and level-headed. To be confident doesn't equate to being loud, instead, I'd think those who are the most silent are the most confident. If you have to scream out to the world that you're strong, then you're likely overcompensating. Retsu doesn't really like those who are loud (as mentioned above), seeing as he wants somebody who's always thinking of different outcomes, trying to defuse the situation as much as possible, but also having strong morals that he aligns with. Retsu would get along best with someone who loves to communicate and is emotionally mature, that is, if you ever want to have a long-lasting relationship with him.

Dislike: Honestly, I think somebody who's very immature and can't sit still. Retsu is very calm, always observing, and then reacting. He doesn't like to be brash or make split-second decisions because he feels that they'll never amount to anything productive (though he does have his moments lol). But, overall, I do think that Retsu would freeze if he was ever around, or romantically involved with a reader who's very confident, loud, and just scatterbrained. It would freak him out, causing his brain to go into overdrive, and unlock all of his protective instincts. I mean, how do you expect him to react when he never knows what you're doing? You're always speaking your mind and acting on impulse! Who knows what trouble you'll get into!

Orochi Katsumi

Like: Katsumi needs someone who can keep up with him, someone who isn't afraid to come out of their shell eventually. He wants someone who’s charismatic, allowing for easy conversions between the two of you. Katsumi wants to date his best friend, his partner in crime, his ride or die, if you will. He won’t get along with someone unless they’re similar to him, in the basic sense. You don’t need to be extremely strong (though, he will find that very hot), too outgoing, or loud, you just need to share some common interests. He doesn’t mind someone who’s more introverted, but he does want to be that person they act a fool around, the person they let loose and be themselves, even if they’re still tame. Katsumi is a bratty kid at heart, and he wants special affection from his lover, something that only he can have. In return, they’ll have all his attention, his heart, and soul, something he’d never give to another person. (puppy!bf energy ngl) 

Dislike: At first, I thought that Katsumi would absolutely loathe a shy darling, but the more I thought about it, I realized that he’d actually hate being with someone who’s aloof, or just disinterested (i.e. Shizuku from HXH). Katsumi loves to talk, to run his mouth all day, and if you’re not listening, then it’ll break his heart. He wants to be seen. Like I said in the paragraph above, he wants his lover to be his best friend, the person he relies on and looks to when in need (depending on the situation). Though I do agree with the idea that Katsumi is very egotistical, he’s still insecure (as are most with such a big ego) and cannot handle someone he holds so dear disregarding with ease. He doesn’t want to be replaceable, seeing as he doesn’t think of his darling as such. Therefore, he’s expectantly the same energy in return. He’s your ride or die, so you gotta match that energy, or else it’s over :/

Matsumoto Kozue (She's my wife btw) 

Likes: Someone who’s playful, caring, and touchy (basically Baki lol). I like to think that Kozue enjoys soft, wholesome relationships, finding comfort in light touches and laying in each other's arms. She wants to be held and cared for, and she holds herself to the same standard. She wants someone who goes with the floor, understanding that life has its ups and downs, and overcoming things as they go. It puts her at ease to know that her partner is competent enough to assess the situation and not get emotionally stunted. Kozue just needs stability in a relationship, and it can be shown in different ways depending on the person she’s dating/and their preferences. You don’t need to be verbally affectionate, telling her that everything is going to be alright, instead, you can use your actions. There are plenty of ways to provide stability, and Kozue eats it up every time. 

Dislikes: Someone who is really hothead and can’t handle change, someone who’s insecure in themselves. Their insecurity (and I mean aggressive insecurity, where they push it onto others, Katou) makes her nervous and it just settles a horrible foundation in the relationship. She gets fidgety, constantly worrying that they’ll have an outburst/mental breakdown. Kozue is a sweetheart, so she obviously cares for her darling, not wanting them to feel unloved and have panic attacks, but it’s difficult since they won’t let her in. She needs someone who’s both physically and emotionally available, someone who won’t push her away when they’re mad. Of course, it makes sense to want space when you’re angry, but when you’re constantly angry, refusing to talk things through, and resorting to violence to get what you want, it’s a no-go for her.

Kiyosumi Katou

Likes: If you were to ask Kiyosumi what his type is, then he’d tell you with a wide grin that he likes them dumb and fuckable, playing up this playboy facade (that majority of people see through). Maybe he’ll even add a cheeky laugh, saying that a shy thing would be pretty cute too, but don’t be fooled. This man is so needy, wanting any affection he can get. Don’t get me wrong, he’s not a cinnamon roll or whatever the fuck. Kiyosumi is a grown man with some… violent tendencies, and manipulative ones as well. He isn’t mature and acts brash whenever he can, overestimating himself when face-to-face with a stronger opponent. Nevertheless, Kiyousmi wants a lover who’s motherly, or caring, someone who’ll listen and look through his little facade, caring for him even though he’s being an ass. Or in other words, he just wants patience. Deep down Kiyosumi understands that he’s not the easiest to get along with, but once you get past his original cocky attitude and bitchy presence, then you’ll meet a new side of him. A side that’s far calmer, no longer instigating and picking fights, just watching. If anything, he becomes a little pouty (lol), and he’s far more clingy, wanting more domestic affection. But do keep in mind that this will take years to build up to, he needs a foundation of trust to let himself calm down. Once he realizes that you aren’t going anywhere, then he treats you with care 

Dislikes: He loathes stupid people, and I mean genuinely stupid, like a bimbo, not reckless stupid. He cannot maintain a conversation with someone who cannot comprehend that people in the ‘20s could in fact see color… Though he wouldn’t mind fucking around with a bimbo, having a one-night stand and such, he wouldn’t be able to maintain a long-term relationship with them, nor would he be able to respect them. And that’s a pillar of trust for Kiyosumi, if he doesn’t respect you, then you’re not getting anywhere in the relationship. If Kiyosumi thinks you’re lesser than him (be it through smarts or strength), he’ll absolutely bully you to oblivion, never giving you a moment of rest. If he paired with someone genuinely stupid, no matter how kind they are, he would berate them, creating a toxic relationship. Yeah… I do not recommend, it really would just be a messy, one-sided relationship that would just end in tears.

Hanma Baki 

Likes: This was a little difficult for me since Baki meshes so well with many different types of people, so thinking of a singular personality he goes with is unrealistic. Though if we’re talking about romantic partners, then I think that Baki would really like a S/O who’s kinda bratty, but in a nice way(?). He wants a back-and-forth, some type of conversation that’ll get a chuckle out of him every time he thinks about them. He’d like a comedic darling, whether their comedy is through dark humor, sarcasm, or just being a clutz, he doesn’t care. Baki just wants someone who’s a little lighthearted, who wants to make the situation more enjoyable through humor. This type of darling would have a brighter outlook on the world, seeing the world through a lens of low expectations and easy-flowing thoughts. They don’t have to be loud, nor do they have to be extremely talkative, Baki is okay with some silence. He doesn’t mind just enjoying each other’s presence, but I think he’d like someone with a sense of humor, being drawn in with their witty comebacks/comments.

Dislikes: Honestly, there are not many types of people Baki doesn’t get along with, seeing as he has an easy-going personality that most enjoy. That just means that if he doesn’t like you, then you’re likely a POS. I think that for Baki to not like you, and genuinely dislike your presence, you’d have to be extremely rude and not in a funny way. You’re just annoying and nit-picky, whilst having no accomplishments yourself. Similar to the expression ‘those who live in a glass home shouldn’t throw stones,’ Baki believes that if you haven’t accomplished anything and don’t relate to someone’s struggles, then keep your mouth shut. You don’t have a right to comment and berate others for trying hard, even if they don’t do too well, when you don’t strive for anything yourself. This type of person would just irk Baki, and there’s no way he’d be able to have a romantic (or platonic, for that matter) with them.

Hanma Yujiro 

Likes: Okay, so this is kind of difficult for me to give an exact personality, seeing as Yujiro doesn’t really love. I don’t think he’s made for the romantic, homey type of love most people share with one another, instead, he was made for blood and war. A more primal love is fitting of him, a love might not be even love to begin with. Well, unless he respects you. I think what could really change the type of personality Yujiro likes depends on the type of romantic relationship he has with reader. If the relationship is that of a sugar baby/plaything, then expect the heartless playing that’s a mindfuck for the average person. But if it’s a genuine relationship, where Yujiro somehow got attached, then it’ll be quiet, a little eerie, but it resembles love far more than the usual mindfuck he gives people. I’m sure I could talk about this for days, so I’ll summarize by stating the basic things he’s looking for in both types of relationships. 

For starters, Yujiro isn’t normal, the exact opposite actually. He’s the definition of an anomaly, the unusual, the rare, and irreplaceable. It’s likely that there will be no one like Hanma Yujiro to ever exist after he, eventually, dies, though some don’t even know if he’ll ever pass away. As to be expected, Yujiro wants to surround himself with the unusual, especially if they’re to be his “lover,” or plaything, depending on the relationship. He’s somewhat similar to a crow, he likes new things, things no one has ever seen, the unattainable. This means that you’d have to be crazy special, or hella courageous, to earn the respect of Yujiro. And those are the types of people who attract his affection. Yujiro loves to interact with those who discover new things, whether it be a new fighting style, historical movement, or social change. Though Yujiro is egotistical, I do think that Yujiro likes to learn. Yujiro wants to grow, to accomplish, and to conquer, and how will he do that without learning about the world around him? He wants to be the best at everything, so that’s why he wants a darling who’s a specialist.

This means that you’d have to be smart, extremely so, whether that intellectual talent comes from your brain or your instincts, it doesn’t matter to Yujiro. He sees both types as valuable assets. I do think that he’d mingle better with someone who’s on the more observant side, who’s able to read him like a book. That’s the type of person who’d catch his interest, and if they can maintain his interest for many years, then they’ve successfully earned his respect(?). 

Dislikes: It’s safe to say that Yujiro doesn’t like many people. I could probably write a whole book on the many different types of personalities this man doesn’t mesh well with, but won’t because I think there’s a specific type of a person he absolutely despises, consistently that is. Those who are both lazy and chatty are the type that make Yujiro want to smash his head in, or theirs to be realistic, and I think it stems from his constant need to be fighting, moving, using his hands, anything. Yujiro doesn’t like small talk, wanting to just cut to the chase and get over with it, stop talking, and do some action for God’s sake! He hates mindless banter and believes that real men don’t use filler words to lighten the impact of what they say, instead, they should state their opinions with their chest. Because of this, I think that this would carry over to his love life (which is nonexistent, btw). Yujiro wants someone like himself in a sense, someone who knows when to shut up and just act. He gets pissed whenever a girl just talks his ears off, specifically not saying anything of substance, just babbling off about some useless crap he could care less about.

Biscuit Olivia 

Likes: Honestly, he’s the opposite of Yujiro, instead of hating everyone, this man mixes pretty well. This is likely due to the fact he has quite the ego, leading to him having quite the confidence in everything he does, never doubting himself and how he interacts with others. That being said, I think that Olivia would like someone who’s humble, sweet, and happy. Someone who’s just content being alive and treats everyone with kindness. This type of darling is someone who, though they were kidnapped, and possibly forced into working at the prison, will still reciprocate Olivia’s affections, leaning into his touch, and smiling up at him with kind eyes. They’ll also have a sweet heart, not wanting to spend any of his money. I stand with the Sugar Daddy Olivia movement, there’s no doubt that this man spoils his darling rotten. He spends money on you because he wants to, ‘cause it makes you flush and smile whenever he gives you a bouquet of flowers. But it makes his heart swell, seeing you flush and refuse, saying that it’s far too expensive and that he shouldn’t be spending money left and right. It’s not that they say this from a perspective of insecurity, but that they can’t imagine living a life of complete financial freedom. Of course, he’ll just assure them that he has all the money in the world, there’s nothing to worry about. Just let him take care of you! 

Dislikes: Anyone who doesn’t like Maria is dead in his book. If you don’t rock with his wife, then you don’t rock with him. I cannot imagine Olivia ever having another darling if it isn’t with Maria (in some type of poly relationship), or if she dies from her sickness. If Maria doesn’t like you, then there’s no way for the relationship to work. He needs both of his baby’s to be happy! And how can they both be happy if they’re fighting like cats and dogs? In most situations, Maria likely took an interest in you, and Olivia followed suit. I imagine that Maria doesn’t like many people, so to get on her good side is hella hard. IF you did, then you were probably really genuine, treating her like a normal person, and not the as the Unchainable’s Lover. You may have had some spunk to you, adding some snarky comments, but keeping it respectful and playful. From there, she was attracted to you and thought you were interesting, so she continued to request you (this is assuming that you work at the prison, or Olivia took Maria out somewhere idk). And the rest is history…

Jun Guevara 

Likes: Jun is a simple man with simple interests and wants, not to take away from his character or anything. Of course, as all humans are, he has complex thoughts and feelings, but he just chooses not to think about them too much. Now, that I say that, Jun doesn’t think, he just acts, listening to his feelings in the moment. That doesn’t mean he isn’t smart, his initial action is fueled and spurred on by his emotions, but is guided by his conscience. Because of this, Jun wants someone similar, a free-spirit if you will. Though he wouldn’t mind someone strong-willed, stubborn, or anxious, I think he’d match far better with someone who’s aloof, going with the flow, and speaking from the heart. They don’t think too deeply about things but aren’t stingy about expressing their inner thoughts and turmoil. They’re like an open book, and Jun respects that, finding it to be a breath of fresh air, something to look forward to. They’d have to be his peace in a sense, being his calm before the storm, voicing any ideas that they have without any inner motivation of taking advantage of him. Bonus points if they like the ocean or traveling, by sea preferably. 

Dislikes: Jun loathes those who are motivated by money and physical things, letting it dictate their decision-making, even if it causes others pain and suffering. These are the type of people that’d befriend someone well off just to sink their teeth into their neck like a leech, using them for what they’re worth before dropping them like they never existed. Jun finds these types of people to be corrupt, both mentally and in the way they lead their lives. For some reason, it brings some type of inner turmoil that he doesn’t want to address, and instead just acts on it, deciding to break, crush, and embarrass thoughts with such surface-level care. Another type of person Jun would hate is someone who liters, someone who doesn’t care for nature or those around them, and just lashes out, ruining the things around him. He finds a lack of care for nature to be an utter turn-off, something that’s also a corrupt way of living. So to put it in simple terms, I think that Jun greatly dislikes those who are sociopathic and act out of their own interests. 

inspired by: @iskratempestmadness

[fayes-fics]

Impertinent

2k Celebration Masterpost

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Sneaking around Aubrey Hall in the dead of night brings you right into the path of one Viscount...

Warnings: very suggestive content, nudity, teasing and touching, Viscount being a total menace but mostly a gentleman.

Word Count: 1.4k (250-word drabbles... I'm HILARIOUS)

Authors Note: Seventh in my 2k follower celebration drabble request fills for @colettebronte with the prompt “You heard me. Take. It. Off.” (ask here). This ended up quite tame, but I enjoyed writing him as a tease. Unbetaed. Enjoy! <3,

You know it's not the right thing to do. To be snooping around Aubrey Hall in the dead of night. But you cannot resist it. As everyone sleeps, you wander silently, tiptoeing around in just your nightgown, the light of the moon streaming through the large windows to guide you. It feels elicit, exciting even. Exploring the home of the man you hope to marry, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton. You have danced and promenaded a few times; this early invitation to spend time with his family ahead of the rest of the Ton bodes well.

You pause at the door of his private study, then, with a fortifying breath, turn the handle and slip into the room. Warm embers glow in the fireplace, and the smell of cigars and expensive whiskey hangs in the air. It is so masculine and so Anthony you can't help but drift to the sizeable imposing desk and take a seat, fingers running over the wood, picturing him sitting right where you are, working hard on something important or other. It makes you lean back, something stirring in your body, just the thought of him arousing.

It's then you notice there is material draped around the back of the large leather chair—one of his velvet, tailed jackets. It smells of spicy cologne, and before you know it, your nose is buried in the material, drawing deep breaths, the scent making your thighs rub together. Something compels you to want to wear it, to feel it against your skin. 

With a boldness you thought yourself scarcely capable of, you stand up and whip off your nightgown, reaching to slip on the jacket. You luxuriate in the feeling of the luxury satin liner against your bare flesh, how it cools your back, snags your pebbled nipples, and how the velvet collar tickles your neck. The front may sit at waist height on him, but on you, the material skims the apex of your thighs, catching deliciously in the patch of hair you have there.

So wrapped up in the sensation of being surrounded by him, by his scent, you don’t hear the door open until it's too late.

“What in the…?” 

You startle and spin around to see there in the doorway is the man himself, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, casual in just a loose white shirt and his britches with braces slung around his legs. You are caught, red-handed. The power of speech has abandoned you, so you just stand there, a rabbit caught in his crosshairs, guilt, fear and shame flooding your system.

He stalks into the room further now and inhales sharply when he rounds a chair to see an unencumbered view of you, entirely nude except for his jacket. His gaze is heavy, sliding down your body sweeping your bare legs, then fixing on where the fabric only just covers you.

“Take it off,” he orders. 

You almost jump out of your skin at the tone and the gruffness. Your arms and hands incapable of moving; there are few charged moments when Anthony just stares at you.

 “You heard me. Take. It. Off.” This time it's even lower, a growl, predatory, enthralling.

And you scramble to obey, shucking the jacket from around your shoulders and letting it hit the floor with an audible thump. Entirely naked now, his responding noise has your thighs instantly damp.

“How impertinent to let yourself into my private study,” his voice surly as he prowls towards you. You freeze to the spot, your hands flying to protect your modesty. “Oh, it’s a little late for that now,” he chuckles darkly, “put your hands back at your sides right now.”

And you do. Casting your gaze to the floor as your cheeks heat. His stare is so heavy it feels like a robe you wear. Soon he is so close you can smell the same cologne that clung to his jacket but this time from his skin.

He circles behind you, and you gasp as he crouches down; it takes you a second to realise he is picking up his jacket, where you carelessly disposed of it onto the floor.

“Tell me, why would you put on my jacket while nude?” he queries, lingering there, and you shudder as his hot breath glances over your bare bottom cheeks as he does so, still behind you.

“I…I… I wanted to try it on,” you stumble, your voice far too quiet.

“And you had to take off your nightgown to do so?” he snarks, and both of your eyes cut to the side where your gown lays in a heap.

“It seemed like luxurious material,”  you confess, head still bowed, starting at the rug as if it fascinates you. “I wanted it against my skin,” those last few words are barely audible.

“You do not have velvet clothes of your own you could try this with?” he throws out, still behind you, that breath still hot over your cheeks; in fact, you swear it’s closer now.

“Yes, but…” you trail off, having no good excuse. Unable to think of a lie, you screw your eyes shut and decide on the truth “... they do not smell like you.”

You jolt and make a noise of sheer surprise as he pitches forward, and his teeth land on your cheek, inhaling deeply.

“At last…” he growls, scraping his canine over the globe of your bottom, “she admits to it.”

“To what?” you murmur as his wet tongue pokes out, soothing the spot he had touched with his teeth as you tremble.

“That you want me just as much as I want you.”

Your whole body shudders as he runs his tongue up the length of your spine, climbing to his feet, your toes curling, scrunching into the thick wool pile, as he unfurls to his full height behind you. You wish you had something nearby to grab onto; it feels as if you could topple over, the rush of blood to your head so intense.

“Are you a maiden?” his mouth is now hot on your ear.

“Yes.”

“And you have never had a man run his tongue over your body like that before, have you?” his voice dark and laced with bemusement.

“No,” you admit.

A warm hand lands on your shoulder as he stands behind you, and again you jump—your body aflame, your nipples pebbling hard, goosebumps breaking out down your arms.

“And I presume no man has touched your naked body?” 

“No, my lord,” your addition of his title makes him take a sharp breath.

“Good,” he snarls, sounding possessive,

His hand rounds your shoulder and starts to sink lower, mapping over the outer end of your clavicle as you try to school your body, trying to stay still, so completely overwhelmed by what is happening. When warm fingertips brush the top of your breast, you begin to tremble.

“Do you know what could happen to mischievous young maidens who break into men’s offices?” It's just a deadly rumble now while his fingers inch fractionally lower, so close to your nipple that it aches to be touched.

You are incapable of answering, so you shake your head a little, his nose bumping your ear.

“You are lucky, Miss y/l/n, that I am mostly a gentleman,” he purrs, “mostly.” 

You shiver as he circles your areola with featherlight touch but never crosses onto it, your heart pounding from the tease.

“I suggest you grab your nightgown and run now,” he advises, sounding like he is fighting his urges, his hand stilling in its motion.

“What if that is the opposite of what I wish?” you can barely believe you found the gall to utter your thought aloud, staring straight ahead at the bookcase, not daring to look down at his hand on your body.

His lips brush the shell of your ear, and it's like being struck by lightning.

“Leave now,” he whispers, “you may return tomorrow evening. Exactly as you are.”

“Why then?” you frown, disappointed as his hand drops from your flesh.

“Because then we shall be publically betrothed… and nothing should stop us.”

Your world spins, and you have to lock your knees to stop your swoon. “What…?”

“You heard me,” he says for the second time tonight, this time with a smug tone, stepping away and handing you your nightgown over your shoulder.

You take a faltering step forward and quickly pull on your nightgown, finally turning to face him again, and it steals your breath. His pupils are dilated, his cheeks flushed, his mouth damp and open.

“Until tomorrow, Miss y/l/n….” he gestures to the door and still utterly dumbfounded, you stumble towards it.

You cannot wait for tomorrow. 

Anthony Taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @delehosies

[moronkombat]

just wondering if you had any headcanons for Bi-Han 🙏

I'm doing soft Bi-Han because I can and i will be unapologetic about it

SFW

Not one for public displays of affection towards his partner or really anyone. Bi-Han is a very hardened man and to show affection is to be vulnerable

That does not mean he does not show affection. He does but only in the comfort of privacy

In those private moments there are a lot of small touches. His fingers gently touching yours and hand holding

Intimacy for Bi-Han is much more meaningful when it is done subtly. He feels closest to his partner when he hugs them

To hug is to completely expose his midline, a place he has been trained to guard. He opens his arms and invites another close to him? It seems wrong but with you it is perfect

He also wants to hold your hand frequently. Not in public but when you two are alone sitting together, on a walk, or whatever you are doing his hand will always find yours

When Bi-Han loves it is with every fiber of his being. He doesn't half ass anything and he never would with the person he is in love with

I see Bi-Han as needing someone to even him out. Someone who is not as defiant and hotheaded as him but not someone totally submissive. His partner is the soothe to his burn but the soothing does not extinguish it. Instead, it completes it

NSFW

One word. Cautious or, dare I say, timid? Not to say he is shy in the bedroom but he is generally preoccupied with the thought of not being too much for his partner

Not to say he does not seek out sex. He does but and he enjoys it but he gets caught up in his own thoughts and the pressures he carries with him

He benefits from a partner that offers comfort and reassurance to him, to tell him that he doesn't need to hold back

Once given that cue, he doesn't hold back. He will spend hours in the bedroom with his partner

As vanilla as it sounds, he really enjoys missionary because he feels it brings the two of your closer together. He can practically feel himself melting into you

He does not reject other positions, however. No way would he never. Once he's shown all these new positions, he cannot get enough. He and his partner will change positions many times throughout their time in the bedroom

His preferred place to have sex is in his bedroom. It feels more intimate that way but it is not the only place Bi-Han will have sex

Somewhere quiet, like near flowing water is another preferred choice. It doesn't end near water, he also enjoys sex when in water. Careful though, sometimes the water starts to freeze when he really gets going

Loves to give oral and is quite the master at it, however, as much as he loves giving he also loves receiving

Bi-Han generally starts off as quiet and tamed during sex. He prefers to hear his partner's sounds than his own but he is still but a man. Eventually he gets just as loud as you

thank you for requesting bi-han! i typically always default to soft bi-han so if the peoples want the roughness you can always request it!

[multi-fandom-simp]

Forever and always.. or maybe never.

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Hanahaki Disease!AU

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim any of them as my own. This work is purely fictional.

Summary: Some say that you cannot die from a broken heart, but how wrong they are. When your lover and husband, Aemond Targaryen begins to find comfort in another, the universe takes pity on you. Well, if you can count a deadly flower disease as pity.

❗️TW❗️: Profanity, mention and descriptions of blood, descriptions of choking and vomiting, hints to infidelity, mild mature scene, violence, character death, angst

(A/N: Hello, this is my own take on Hanahaki's disease with Aemond! Feel free to comment your thoughts, I am always open to criticism and feedback! I hope you enjoy!)

Word Count: 3.3K

Your love for Aemond hadn’t always been unrequited. At least you’d like to think it wasn’t. Both of you had grown together in the red keep as children. The two of you read together, ate together, and overall grew together. Aemond was your best friend before he was your betrothed. Whenever his mother was busy, it was your side that he clung to. The two of you were so attached at the hip that Alicent even took you to driftmark with them. You and the beast that came with you of course. No one really knows how you stumbled upon a hyena pup, nor how you tamed it to your side as a child. Nevertheless, they never forbid you from having it. If the Targaryens could have their dragons, and the Starks their dire wolves, then certainly you could have the tricky little beast that you insisted on calling Lark. In some ways, Alicent was thankful that you insisted on keeping it. After all, it was your hyena that stood between Aemond and the other children on that fateful night in driftmark. The beast had acted as your legs and ran faster than you could to reach the devastating brawl before you. Despite Aemond’s wails of pain, Lark refused to let the guards come too close. Only when you arrived did she move aside. Regardless of being young, that was the first night you realized your feelings for Aemond Targaryen. The very sight of him bleeding and broken struck you so deeply that you felt as if you had been maimed too. Alicent had noticed the change as well as she watched you stand by her son's side whilst he received stitches. Her dark eyes gazed deeply at how tightly you held Aemond’s hand, as if he would disappear. Aside from her, no one had ever loved her son this passionately, not even his own father. 

“Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders” Rhaenyra demanded.

“ Was the blade of your son’s knife not enough sharpness for the night?” All eyes turned to you in surprise. You had never been known to speak out if it did not benefit you. Most of the time you were seen standing to the side, watching while others tore each other apart. Aemond could always see past it, see your true intentions. He knew you were studying how different people fought and where their weak points were. You had been around the red keep long enough to know that Lucerys Velaryon was Rhaenyra’s soft spot, and tonight you planned to use that against her. 

“ You should watch your tongue when you speak to me” Rhaenyra warned, her eyes flickering over to her father to see if he would do anything. 

“ or what, you’ll have Lucerys cut it out like he did Aemond’s eye” The neutrality on your face was enough to both scare and amaze Aemond. 

“ You dar-”

“ Enough! My son has lost an eye and now you insist on arguing with a young girl?” Alicent moved up next to you, a hand on your back in support. She knew how terrifying it was to stand alone in a room full of adults scrutinizing you. That’s how her wedding felt after all. The queen’s hand never wavered through the interrogation of the green children. You held Aemond’s hand and she held you. Until things escalated that was. When the queen rushed towards Rhaenyra you stepped in front of Aemond. Shielding him from the sight of his mother in the midst of such violence. All Aemond could see in the midst of chaos was you, and all you could see was the river of blood on Rhaenyra’s arm. Little did you know how familiar you would be with crimson rivers in due time. 

It was shortly after that night when your betrothal to the second son was announced. Alicent assured that it was needed to form an alliance between your family and theirs, when in reality it was a match made to ease the worried queen’s heart. In her eyes, no one else was a better match for Aemond than you, and for the longest time, you believed her. Oh, how foolish you were. 

Six years passed with ease for the two of you. The first four were filled with fleeting touches, deep conversations, and young love. 

“What is this, my lady, a journal?” Aemond’s voice floated around you as his chin found purchase on your shoulder. 

“ And if it is?” You hummed, closing the leather-bound book a bit too quickly.

“ Then I fear I must inspect it. Wouldn’t want my future wife to be keeping secrets from me.” You recognized the playful jest in Aemond’s voice and wasted no time in rushing up from the bench. 

“ Not so fast, my love.” Aemond chuckled, ensnaring you from behind. 

“ Aemond!” You protested, smacking his locked arms with the leather bound book. 

“ Have I ever told you how much I adore it when you fight back?” Aemond snickered, his breath hot on your neck. 

“ You pervert!” You feigned offense before looking ahead to your pet, “ Lark, get him girl, c’mon!” 

“ You know she won't come. That ole girl loves me as much as she loves you." Aemond smirked, whistling for Lark in the way you taught. 

            " Traitor." You grumble with a hidden smile as the Hyena trots over to the pair of you casually.

The two of you were married when he was seventeen and you were sixteen. Your union was repeated twice over. Once in front of a sept full of people, and then in the tradition of old valyria. Aemond wanted reassurance that you would never part from him. Your marriage fueled two more years full of what was now mature love. 

The edge of your teeth pulled at the pillow of your bottom lip as you stared at the dark oak door. The sound of jeering men swarmed your thoughts and threatened the bile at the back of your throat. You tried to hide your discomfort for Aemonds sake, but he was keen to your reactions by now. 

“ Do not fret, my love, I will not let them hear your noises. I would never let them hear what is only meant for me and you.” Aemond spoke lowly, using your hips to turn you towards him and away from the door. 

“ They’ll hear regardless.” You muttered bitterly, “They’re sat out there with their ears pressed against the door just wa-”

“ I said they would not hear you and I meant it” Aemond murmured into your ear with a soft kiss to the sensitive skin just beneath it. 

“Aem-” You sighed contently.

“That’s it..sȳz riña.”Good girl. Your breathing faltered as the pet name slipped past his lips. He had figured out how much you liked to be praised from your journals.

“ You r-remebered…”You managed to gasp as he trailed down your neck. 

“ I remember anything and everything that has to do with you, my love. I always will.” Aemond promised between wet kisses. You shouldn’t have believed him, but you did. 

You never would’ve thought that you could fall deeper in love with Aemond Targaryen after that night, but nine months later proved you wrong. The sight of him by your side as you delivered your son set permanent hearts in your eyes. He had not cared for the blood or screams, only you and the babe. The babe who he later named Aemys because it was as close as he could get to amethyst, your favorite color. Every little detail of  the things he did revolves around you. That’s what fueled your denial the first time you coughed up blood. 

Your eyes stared hard at the bloody petal laying in your palm. Had that come from you? You had read strange tales of those who bled flowers, but you believed it only to be fiction. Surly your blood would not change at the ripe age of ten and nine. 

“ The flower that once bloomed love will soon bloom blood. “ Helaena aimlessly mumbled to herself from beside you. 

“ What..?”Your heart sped up as you analyzed her words. No one had ever paid any mind to her silly riddles, except for you. 

“ Blooming blood blooms a burial.” This time Helaena was focused on you as she spoke. Her eyes filled with unknown sorrow. You left Aemys to play with his cousins as you rushed to the library. No one else was there to question your  sanity as you pulled book after book from the shelf to find the old dornish fables that lay hidden among them. 

“Hanahaki..”Every word, every page, and every definition seemed to tear you apart further as you read. No other condition led to flowery bile except for this one. Aemond loved you though. How could this be possible?

Your thoughts would be answered two morrows later when Aemond returned from his siege of Harrenhal. Everyone had expected to see him arrive on dragon back alone, certainly not with a strong bastard. A gorgeous strong bastard at that. You felt your chest tighten as you gazed upon her dark flowy locks and enchanting eyes. Oh by the seven, how could you spite him for loving someone like her? If circumstances were different, then perhaps you too would fall under her spell. It wasn’t until you saw the way she clung to Aemond’s arm that the coughing fit started. This had to be it. What else could it be? Aemond hated physical contact with strangers, yet he let a previously unknown wetnurse cling to him like a paramour. The harder you thought about it, the harder you coughed. The fit only resulted in a petal or two, but in time that would grow. The longer Alys rivers stayed, the worse you got. Both you and the universe could feel Aemond straying from you, even if he spoke differently. 

“I am not in love with her!”Aemond snapped, reaching his breaking point in this petty argument that had started hours ago at dinner. 

“ You do not see the things I see, Aemond. The way you defend her, encourage her, look at her…all in the way you used to look at me-” It took effort to fight down the sickness as you fought. It had been months, but you made no move to tell Aemond, you couldn’t.

“ I do not love her as I love you-”

“ Yes, but you love her!” You cried in outrage, gripping the wall near you for support. Everything became so out of focus as you spoke the words. It was the first time you had ever admitted it to yourself. The dew of brick cooled your skin as you leaned against the wall. Your body trembled with deep echoey coughs as petals tore their way up your throat. 

“ I did not mean to make you sick, dear wife” Aemond spoke softly and simply. Wife. He had never called you that before, not even on your wedding night. It was always my love or Ñuha prūmia. How ironic for him to call you his heart when sooner or later he would be the reason yours cease to beat. 

“ Just go, Aem, please.” You pleaded, turning away, “I do not wish to fight.” 

“ As you wish.” Aemond’s bow before he left was the final straw to crack your heart open. Why must he be so formal when you stand dying a few feet away? How can he not see how badly you suffer? Were the shadows beneath your eyes, or the crack of your lips not big enough clues for him? Would you need to be dead for him to finally understand?

Unfortunately for you, that’s exactly how it was going to be. Everyone else around you had begun to notice the shift in your behavior. The fatigue, the paleness, and the emotions. Alicent first noticed it when she sat in the nursery with you, Helaena, and the children just after supper. She saw the way your eyes refused to leave Aemys as if it would be your last look. The way you held him was the same way she held Aemond when he lost his eye. 

“ He’s a clever boy.” Alicent smiled as Aemys recited a word back to one of his cousins. 

“ That he is.” You agreed, melancholy ghosting your lips. It hurt the queen to see you this way. You were a part of her almost as much as her children. You came to her as a child she was not forced to love nor conceive. Yet you wormed your way into her heart as if she had carried you. The sight of you so sickly and sad tugged at Alicent’s heart. 

“ You’re sick, are you not?” Alicent proclaimed in observation rather than a question. 

“ Mhm, In a way I suppose I am.” You hummed out softly. It had gotten to the point where it was hard to speak most days. The petals had begun to come up in thick, dry heaves, with occasional thorns that tore at your throat. 

“ Have you told Aemond?” The queen inquired. 

“ Aemond is the reason I’m sick in the first place.” You grumbled before sighing in defeat, “ Or I suppose it’s more of my fault. I was foolish to think he would ever actually love me.”

“ You don’t mean-” Alicent’s soft words trailed off abruptly. Alicent Hightower was no stranger to the hanahaki disease. She too had suffered through it once. Except she learned how to get around it.

“ I do.” You answered simply, with no trace of sadness or indifference.

“ There are ways around it my d-”

“ Such as forgoing my love for Aemond, I know. I could live a long life if I cast aside every loving memory I hold of him, but alas it is not that easy. I have tried, if that brings you any comfort. In the midst of the night when my eyes are swollen from tears and the blood in my throat is so thick I cannot breathe, I have tried, and I have failed.” Alicent’s eyes well with tears as you speak, almost as if she’s dared to imagine you in such dismay. You reach out to soothe her hands comfortingly, but she grips onto yours tightly instead. 

“ It is not easy, but you must keep trying.” Alicent urges, a wobble to her voice. 

“ There is no reason for me to put myself through the agony of erasing my happiness when I am already in physical torment. The sight of Aemond is the very reason I wake up every morning. Hearing his laugh, seeing his smile, and feeling his warmth are all things that have kept me going. Forgetting those would be forgetting myself.” You reason, a wisp of remembrance in your eyes. 

“ If not for yourself, then for Aemys” Alicent argues. 

“ Aemys is one of the reasons I have chosen to give up. Every time I look at him I see Aemond. They are alike in everything but the eyes. The mere sight of that boy reminds me of the night he was made, of the love and passion Aemond had for me. Yet he no longer holds in regards to me. I would rather Aemys hear stories of his parent’s love than grow up with two plain parents.” The child in topic bursts into giggles a few inches away, stealing your attention from the queen. Your eyes crinkle with happiness and you move to turn towards him, but Alicent holds firm. 

“ Aemys needs his mother.” She argues once more. 

“ He does not. Aemys will have a loving father and grandmother by his side. Alongside his aunt Helaena, Uncle Daeron, and three beautiful cousins. Even Aegon cares for the little rascals’ life.” You chuckled. 

“ That is n-”

“ Please, I have made my choice. I appreciate your council, but it is too late. I fear after I lay my son to sleep, it will be my last night alive. I thank you for all the love and comfort you have given me in my lifetime. I love you, mother.” You pressed the meat of your cheek against Alicent’s hand in farewell before standing.

“ If you’ll excuse me-” As you stood to retrieve your son, Alicent excused herself from the room hastily. Never did she think she would find herself running through the castle’s corridors, but yet here she is. Alicent’s heels had been long forgotten and the emerald hem of her dress dragged upon the stone as she made haste to the library, where Aemond would be. 

“ Aemond! Ae-” The frantic shrill of the queen mother’s voice echoes throughout the shelves. 

“ Mother?” Aemond calls out, emerging from a row with a disheveled Alys in tow, “ Is something wrong?”

“ You hide away fondling a wet nurse while your wife withers away! Have I truly raised you this way?” The despair in Alicent’s voice takes Aemond by surprise. He reaches out to hold her arms, but she pulls away. 

“ She is not withering away, mother. She has assured me that it is just a small cold.” Aemond speaks calmly, in hopes to ease his mother’s franticness. 

“ A small cold!? She has every sign of hanahaki disease and you have not suspected a thing?” Alicent refuted. 

“ Because it is not possible! I love her!” Aemond snaps. 

“ Not enough!” Alicent sighs, “ In no world should I have had to be afraid of letting her go in fear that I would not see her again. She has accepted her death, Aemond. How far out of love have you fallen with her to the point where your wife greets death openly?” 

Aemond doesn’t bother with a reply because he’s already on his way out of the door. His pounding steps reverberate through the empty halls and the tremble of panicked breathing surrounds him. Fear nearly eats him alive as he reaches the door to your marital chambers. Never has he been terrified to open those doors to the sight of you. He had never once feared  finding you dead, but now he has. Slowly but surely, Aemond pushes the giant oak open. He spots you knelt on the balcony in your nightdress, looking up at the stars. Lark lay whining at your side until she hears Aemond shuffle forward. Much to Aemond's surprise, the hefty beast that once worshiped him as you did, bared its teeth to him. 

            "Please.." Aemond wasn't sure if he was pleading to Lark to let him pass or to the gods for your life. Either way, the Hyena was the first to answer him. Lark moved aside slowly so that Aemond may pass, but still kept defense from a ways away.

“I-” Before a word can even escape his lips, you’re lurching forward. Aemond rushes forward and sinks to his knees to hold you. The convulsions of your stomach can be felt as he circles your waist. 

“ I’m so sorry, my love, please.” The cold wash of fear grips his spine as blood and flowers paint the floor. He has no idea what to do. You’re not saying anything or doing anything to cease the onslaught of terror, yet you’re not pushing him away either. On the contrary, you’ve tangled your fingers with the hand he has over your stomach. 

“ I love you. I’ll always love you.” Aemond croaks helplessly into your hair as you lean back against him. It’s too late, you had once said. It seems that the universe had agreed. Your breathing rattled to a stop and the grip of your hands weakened.  “ I love you. Forever and Always. I promise.” Aemond whispered, pressing a salt-soaked kiss to your temple as he felt your heart slow. The thump that once echoed through your back onto his own heart stuttered to a stop, and with it so did Aemond’s world.

Part 2

[alrightieaphroditie]

just checkin' in | j.m.

*:·ﾟ✧ series masterlist

pairing *:·ﾟ afab!reader x joel miller wc *:·ﾟ 2.4k an *:·ﾟ it's here! the first part in a series i am veeery excited about!! this installment is pretty much straight fluff, but i had a blast writing it and getting back into joel's character. i cannot wait to see where this series takes me, and i really hope everyone enjoys reading it! this is slightly edited, but if there's anything huge that jumps out at you, please let me know! check the series masterlist for the series tags!

synopsis *:·ﾟ even when joel is miles away, he never fails to check in on his girl.

after checking for what quite literally had to be the millionth time, the folded-up letter was still sitting right where joel had set it before he left; propped up against your bookstack on the end table in your living room. not that you were expecting it to suddenly grow legs and run away or anything. but today was finally the day that you could open it, as specified by the man who wrote it himself, and by god, you wanted to make sure you knew where it was when you finally sat down to read it. 

in the beginning, when you and joel first started up this little tradition of writing each other letters when he'd go off on the hunting trips, you would eagerly rip open his notes as soon as you were able to. joel always left very clear instructions to not open them until a certain date, and you always obliged, even though it wasn't like joel would really know when you actually opened them. you wouldn't be surprised if his senses started tingling if you even dared to go against his instructions, though. joel had a way of being so omnipresent with you; so attuned to your own being that even when he was gone, you swore you could still feel him with you.  

after a little while, though, you learned to tame that eagerness and make a dedicated time for reading his letters. the excitement never left you fully, and you found that opening the letter was still all you could think about on the day of, all these months later. you spent your morning helping in the greenhouses, thinking of what joel could have written. you cleaned up your house during the afternoon, eyes gazing to the paper with your name on it, written in his surprisingly nice handwriting, far too often. and when you had dinner with ellie that night, all you could do was smile as she mentioned opening her own letter that morning, your foot tapping against the floor as you impatiently anticipated getting to open your own. 

now, you were fresh out of the shower (ellie made one too many jokes about how much you had stunk after working all day, to the point where you couldn't really tell if she was joking or not), your hair done up in two braids, wearing one of joel's t-shirts and stirring some honey in your cup of tea. the window in your living room was cracked open, the crisp early spring winds causing your gauzy curtains to flutter across the hardwood floors. now, you finally tucked yourself into the corner of your couch, an ugly green thing that was shockingly comfortable, and tugged the blanket hanging on the back of it over your legs, getting comfortable. 

balancing your mug on the arm of the couch, you reached over and finally pulled the letter into your lap. just seeing your name on the front had those silly little butterflies float through your stomach; something you felt far too often with joel. you steadied yourself with a deep breath, and, after taking a small sip of your tea, settled back into the couch, unfolding the crisp paper. 

just checkin' in on you, sugar. 

the first line of his letter was always the same, and yet it never failed to make you smile. he'd say those same words in person, too, when he came by to visit while you were out working, or when he'd stop by your place early in the morning before he went out to do his duties. you'd never get sick of hearing - or reading - those words. 

hope you've been doin' alright. i can't believe they're makin' me go out again even though i just got back from another trip. swear these men can't do shit without me, especially tommy. i know he's the only reason why i'm out in the middle of nowhere, sleeping in a damn sack when i could be in your bed instead. 

you couldn't help but snort at joel's irritation with his brother. the sibling rivalry between the miller brothers was never ending, though the majority of it was in good fun. joel was right, though. tommy was, in fact, the sole reason why his brother left for another trip so close to returning home from one; maria had told you that tommy complained that the group he was going with couldn't aim for shit and needed at least one more man who knew how to handle a gun. 

the good thing, though, is that they're lettin' me get out of the next couple trips after this. i'll get at least a few good weeks with you, uninterrupted. as much as i like writin' these letters, and as much as i love reading what you've written me, i'd much rather be able to talk to ya in person. that way i could see your grin every time i say somethin' sweet to you, just like i bet you're doing now, huh?   

once again, joel was right. 

i gotta go pack up now, but i'll be back home to you any day now. take care of yourself for me, baby, just until i can get back to doin' it myself. i love you. 

a wave of emotions hit you at once when you finished reading the letter. happiness, for his approaching homecoming. excitement, for those few weeks he'd be getting off. love, for the way he knew you and how he loved taking care of you. and, however faint, loneliness, for how much your heart ached to see him. he had been gone for a week now, and before that, the two of you had only had one day together after he had been gone for two. only a few days remained in this trip, though it still felt like forever. 

you wouldn't let yourself dwell on that miniscule amount of pain, though. joel wouldn't want you to, so you knew better by now. instead, you reread his letter, hearing that slight drawl of his in your head, and grinning again just like he predicted. you held it to your chest as you sipped your lukewarm tea, as if your skin could absorb his words and cement his love into your bloodstream. 

later, after your tea had gone too cold and you dumped it out in the sink, you carried yourself to your room, the hem of joel's shirt brushing delicately against your thighs. kneeling to the ground, your knees hit the worn wood floor as you dug underneath your bed, pulling out an old shoebox. inside were joel's previous letters, the box almost stuffed to the brim with them. you couldn't even imagine tossing them out, these little symbols of his love for you, so this was where you stored them, safely tucked away. 

after placing the most recent one on top of the box and putting it back under your bed gently, you snagged the flannel joel had left from his side of the bed and put it on. now wrapped in his clothes, his scent, you felt closer to him. that silly thread of loneliness fluttered through your heart again, ever so briefly, but you brushed it off as you pulled back your quilt blanket and climbed into bed.  

outside your window, you could just barely make out the moon high in the pitch-black sky and you wondered if joel was awake still, looking up at that same fixture. it was the comfort you felt at that thought that allowed you to close your eyes and drift off, and joel's lingering scent on the flannel was the last thing you remembered thinking of. 

somewhere in the woods, miles away from the walls of jackson, joel sat on the damp ground, propped against a fallen tree log. his hand was in his jacket, his calloused thumb and forefinger brushing against the smooth paper folded into bits in the pocket. 

he had requested first watch tonight, hoping to have at least some time to himself so that he could read your words. unlike him, you never gave any instructions for when to read your letter. you said once that he should just read it whenever he missed you, and he didn’t have the heart to tell you that if he did that, he’d be reading the letter the moment he stepped out of the border around town. 

you had mentioned in passing, however, that you made a little ritual out of reading his letters, and so joel started putting off reading your letter, waiting until the date that he specified for you to open his. he knew it was silly, that the probability of you both reading the letters at the same time was slim, especially when he had to wait until the dead of night, when he had a small moment of free time. but it kept him going, so he continued to do it. 

the last man in the group had just walked back to his sleeping bag, and joel was finally out in the campsite alone. he gently pulled your letter from his pocket, the jagged edges along one side showing him that you wrote this in your journal before ripping it out. the paper was smooth under his skin, and for a moment he simply stared at his name plastered on the front in your handwriting; the way the 'l' at the end of his name sloped off into a small heart. 

a deep sigh parted his lips; somewhat from exhaustion, but mostly from the way his heartbeat kicked up just at the thought of you drawing that. 

he had to shift against the wood slightly, sparing a glance around the site to make sure no one was paying him too much attention, just so the moonlight could hit the letter just right. he still had to squint slightly to focus, but that was more because of his age than the lack of lighting (you kept teasing him about trying to find some reading glasses, and now he wondered if he did actually need them). 

with nimble fingers, he unfolded the letter and immediately his mouth quirked up in a small smirk. 

hey there, cowboy. i hope the camping life is treating you well and not wreaking havoc on that back of yours. i'm starting to wonder if you're getting too old to go on those trips. surely having a senior citizen like yourself tagging along slows y'all down, no? 

joel forced his sudden laugh into a cough, shaking his head at your attempt of a joke. it was no secret that joel was older than you, but that had never really brought up any strife in your relationship. everyone thought that you were both lucky to find something like what you had given the way the world was, that kind of storybook love people dreamed about. the kind he never imagined for himself.

you were the only one who continuously brought up the age difference, solely to crack jokes at his expense. ellie adored it, and your comments made him laugh, so he didn't really mind it. 

seriously though, i hope you're taking care of yourself out there. i know you do, but i can't help but worry a little. you're needed here, so i just want you to do whatever you need to do to come back home. i mean it.  

while you guys are gone, i think we're going to be setting up the patio area again in town since the weather is warming up. i heard maria talk about hosting another dance soon, so i'm putting it into writing that i want to dance with you at least once, miller.

 i'll beg if i have to. 

heat flamed his cheeks, his skin turning warm despite the cool breeze of spring floating through. his head tipped back, resting against the tree trunk as he closed his eyes for a moment. the two of you had only had one night together between his trips out of town, and ellie had spent the night at your house with joel that night, too. not that joel regretted that; he loved spending time together with his girls. 

but god, did he miss touching you, feeling your soft skin underneath his rough hands, your weight on top of him, underneath him, your hair between his fingers, your lips against his. all of it. the first thing he did when he got back into town was remedy that, he'd swear on it. 

i hear you coming down the stairs, so i have to wrap this up. geez, your footsteps are so loud. i love them, though. i love you, too, joel. stay safe, baby. i'll see you real soon! 

a small heart followed the last word, and his gaze lingered on it for a moment while he absorbed your letter. reading your words was like a breath of fresh air to him, letting him fill his lungs with your love even if you weren't physically there. these letters gave him the energy, the will, to continue on. to make a point to go back. 

for years, he never had anyone to return to, no one to really miss him if he were missing. he grew to accept that, felt comfortable being alone in this great, big world. he never imagined anything different, always felt he had no right wishing for something more. and now, somehow, he had two people who were eagerly anticipating his return. 

joel brushed his knuckle against the corner of his eye, collecting the small gathering of water that had collected there after finishing your letter. clearing his throat, he sat himself up against the tree, gathering his gun into his lap to be more prepared for the evening watch. he never let go of your letter, though. the feeling of rubbing it between the pads of his fingers brought him a great sense of calm. 

later, when tommy woke up to relieve joel from first watch, after he set up his sleeping bag and folded his jacket underneath him to act as a pillow, he reread your letter again and again, hearing your sweet voice in his head as he did. when he basically had it memorized, he let his hand fall to his chest. as the wind whistled through the trees, your note close to his heart, he finally allowed himself to fall asleep. 

taglist *:·ﾟ @hiroikegawa

[xochimillilili]

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Welcome to my blog~ My name is Xochimilli, though I'm sure some of you would be eager to call me Sir

A 21 year old switchy vers genderqueer boygirl cat thing, It/He pronouns (yes capitalized :3)

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My pet is the lovely @onetiredpup, or 🫀 puppy who I lovee and adore so so soooo much 💛 THE BOYFRIEND YIPPPEE YAYY HOORAYY :3 💛💛💛💛💛 A A AAAAAA AA AAAAAAA KISSING HIM KISSING HER HUGGING THEM SO TIGHTLY

◇Anon Pets◇

•🪐 • 🩻 • 🦇 • 🪲 • 🐻 • 🐼 • ⚰️ • 🌱 • doe • 🧜‍♀️ • 🫧 • 🌻 • 👑 • 🦦 • 🌌 • 🥺 • 🤍 • 🐾 • 🍰 • 🍑 • 🪣 • 👑🖤 • 🍊 • 🍤 • 🐈‍⬛ • 🪷 • 🐞 • 🐬 • 🌟 • 🏩 • ✴️

I also just reccomend not to interact if you just want the horny!!! I will rb anything n everything I want <3

◇DNI◇

Typical DNI, dont be a bitch to others. Raceplay, and ED blogs also dni, for personal reasons, I can and will block anyone I want to, this is my safe space. Minors and ageless blogs fuck off, I will block you

◇ Kinks ◇ Limits under cut ◇

Kinks◇

Petplay

Impact play

Soft Degradation + Praise

Bondage

Piss/Omo

Somno

Breeding

Pregnancy

Edging + Cum Denial

Free Use

Sub/Dom

Fauxcest

Knifeplay

Cnc

Intox (only alcohol)

Temperature play

Biting/Marking

Primal

Royalty play

Lactation/Milking

Musk/scent

Blood

Cockwarming

Stalking

Kidnapping

Objectum

Pain/Physical Injury

Possesiveness

Forcemasc

Monsterfucking

Gore (will not post about it)

Cannibalism (will not post about it)

Limits◇

Apart from what is included in the DNI, do not offer to include these. I either don't enjoy them personally or can't do/write for them !!!

Height difference (woahs dysphoria creator 9000)

Scat

Inflation

Raceplay

Brat taming (I am too soft for it)

Vomit

Cheating

AB/DL

Hypno

Sissy

Weight gain/Loss + Feederism

Subby Xochi shit->

Some stuff about when I'm subby because holy shit a lot of similar asks about me being a subby kitty recently lmao, keep in mind I am very much soft when in a sub mindset

Kinks

Petplay (kitty maybeee bunny), incredibly soft degradation, lots of praise, piss, somno, breeding, pregnancy, edging/cum denial, free use, alcohol intox, biting/marking, royalty play (i just wanna be a princess whose cared for), laction/milking, cockwarming, possesiveness, forcemasc, mommy/daddy

Terms I use

I literally don't give a shit what words you use for my body but I do enjoy enjoy having my general hole and cock area called princess parts and kitty parts when subby lol also my clit is my cock but like, my cock is my clit yknow?

My gender is cool, call me a good girl or princess, along with most masc terms!!! Kitty words also get my mind all WOAHS

Ummm, aaaa aa aaaaa fuck I don't know just writing about how I liked being refered to as "kitty" and "princess" gets me blushing LMAOOOO I am just babie fr, I literally cry when I cum,,, I just like being cared for and given sooo much attention and kind of spoiled and babied with lotssss of praise and words of affection,,, im dom for the horny but subby for the being cared for lmao,,, being subby lets me not worry about anything but being good so yayayayaaaa get me to just relax for once

My puppy's good boy chart ♡

Good boy chart for my lovely puppyyyyy, my sweet boyfriend @onetiredpup 💛 So so sooo excited for using it with him !!!! Will update it as they get stickers :3 so everyone can see what a good boy she is~

based off @/droolypupboy's chart !!!!

◇ More: (aka xochi doesn't stfu<3)

I am literally just queer, in gender and sexuality, I am just a queer fuck !!!! My gender is just I am God, because I fucking am God. I have a boyfriebd. I have a boyfriend. Did I mention I have a boyfriend? I have a boyfriend and I love him I love my boyfriend with my whole being 💛 My boyfriend my beloved kissing her face right now actually because I love them and my blog is literally more or less for him !!! All my posts are lil love letters in a way n I like making my love loud and very very shown to everyone ♡

Dom top leaning switch, will only sub for my love

Autistic and ADHD, and mentally ill, and chronically pained– Age regressor will always log out before regressing. Also a full time student, don't fret if I don't answer right away~

Living in a shit ass town, long periods of silence are usually due to floods or power outages, or when age regressing.

◇Xochi is a real person I am not horny all the time lmao

A former part time librarian and part time English teacher now graphic design student ^_^ i am trying to create a good future for myself and create the life I want <3

I'm a pretty big softie at heart, expert crybaby, expert emotion feeler, expert at caring too much. I am also good at being dumb and laughing too much at stupid shit :3

I like stuff apart from masturbating and getting others horny~ Like drawing, Sky: Children of the Light, Sanrio (My Melody my beloved ♡), Percy Jackson, Artemis Fowl, Pretty Cure, plushies and cooking to name a few things I like, so don't be afraid to just talk about my interests! I'm not scary I promise :]

◇ Tags ◇

#xochimilli writes -> Orignal text posts

#xochimilli answers◇ -> Answering asks

#xochimilli comfort ->Only comfort more sfw

#xochimilli speaks ->Me bitching about stuff

#xochi is the breeding bitch -> Bottom/Sub POV writings

#important◇ -> important shit lmao

#☆lynn no mires☆ ->irl Xochi, audios and pictures

♡

#🫀puppy-> For my love, my bf, my sweetheart, the one who fills my whole heart and my sunshine :3 ♡

#🫀💛 -> sweet little reblogs that make me think of them ♡

☆

♱𝖋𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖔𝖙♱ <- matchy matchy for my bestie my beloved HOLAAA SEÑOR GACHA AAAAAAA

[two-white-butterflies]

★ — cassandra | thranduil

Description: Cassandra: shining upon man, a name bestowed by the mortals that surrounded your husband's kingdom. Being bestowed the gift of foresight, you have seen things in motion - that is until a tragedy happens. One that you did not foresee.

"What is it like to be a prophet? Everywhere Cassandra went she found that she was already there."

Pairing: thranduil/reader. (elrond's daughter)

Genre: angst [major character death]

Warning: I make my own timeline.

There were many things in the darkness that stayed unseen. The darkness plagued your dreams, a tangible darkness that watched in the background beside you as the events unfolded. As a child, the dreams were tame - Elladan breaking your mother's favorite vase or Elrohir scraping his knees while running down the halls.

When you grew older, the dreams turned grim. The tangible darkness that used to watch beside you now became a character of these dreams. It played in your head repeatedly; Greenwood marred by darkness, the elves fleeing to Valinor.

It haunted you.

"My child." Ada places a guiding hand on your shoulder. One of the few elves that shared your burden of foresight. "Darling," he whispered seeing the tears pool on the corners of your eyes.

Despite his gentle nudging, all attempts of reviving you from the drown - the trance does not break. You remain inside your dream. Elrond furrows his eyebrows, sensing fear and sadness in you.

"Does she wake?" Elladan leans on the doorframe.

This has been a common occurrence in the household. When the moon is in clarity, and the members in deep sleep - they get stirred awake by the sound of your tears - by the sound of objects falling from your room. "No," Elrond responds seeing your tight grip on the bedsheet - mumbling curses that he could not fathom.

A sigh escapes the younger twin's mouth.

He takes a step towards the bed, sitting beside the plump pillows that surrounded her body. "You must jump off the boat now," he mumbled, reaching for your clenched fists - opening it slowly. "When the rain comes we'll prepare the barrels, but awaken and enjoy the warmth of the sun." he pleaded.

Out of all the siblings, Elladan admired you the most. His oldest sister who had a gentle disposition and a caring voice. He did not like seeing you in pain; haunted by the inevitable.

Almost instantly, your eyes opened.

Father tries to calm you down but you are haunted. You tried to break free from the haunting, but something prevents you to speak. That tangible darkness that continued to hold you back.

You clawed at your forearm. In disbelief of what's to come.

"Naneth," you managed to whisper out. At the end of the night, you weren't alone in the haunting.

Soon after the prophecy, your father called for all his soldiers to trek the dangerous road that your mother was travelling on. Elladan tried to ask you questions, but there were no words that left your mouth. You tried to speak, tried to open your mouth - but no sound escaped.

'Everywhere Cassandra ran, she found that she was already there.'

A month later, Elladan and Elrohir arrived carrying the shell of your mother. All remnants of self-control leaves your body.

"She'll live. Your father is the greatest healer in all of Arda." your grandsire comforts, you burrow deeper into the sheets.

Celeborn takes a deep breath.

"There are scars that cannot be healed by time." the first time you spoke in months. You turned your body to look at him. Seeing the very same fear, sadness and anger in his eyes.

There were titles bestowed to people with deceased parents. There were titles bestowed to people with deceased lovers. But there were no titles bestowed to those with deceased children, for they shall be title-less and the greatest honors be taken away.

The following day, mother left for the Grey Havens. She left no comforting words or letters, but she kissed your foreheads in the middle of the night and father escorted her to the shores.

"My child," Galadriel smiles warmly, seeing you leaning on the doorframe as she broke her fast with your siblings. "- sit, you must eat." her voice was filled with tenderness.

Then suddenly memories of your mother's imprisonment flash through your eyes - your appetite is ruined for years to come. Galadriel tries to open her mouth again but you run away.

You run away from the dreams that plague your mind.

"Will she be alright?" Arwen inquires. They were used to your terrible dreams, even admired the times that you'd push through with a smile on your face, but this reaction was new to them.

Fleeing and disassociating with reality.

With their mother gone and their oldest sister drowning.

The family was lost too.

Lady Galadriel takes a sip of her tea, watching as her good-son attempts to mask his sorrow. That's what they were all doing, anyways. Hiding their grief because it's much easier than facing the truth, that Celebrian is in the Grey Havens and they are alone.

Alone again.

Alone until they decide to flee; it will be a long time. It will take centuries and thousands of years.

"She must come with me." she breathes.

Elrond's eyebrows merge together. "My daughter must stay here." he argued, not wanting another member of his family to be out of reach.

"She dreamt of her mother. She's seen the atrocities of which Celebrian refuses to speak of - I know that you have experience with this too but her dreams are different, not detached verses of massacres and war but personal deaths. She needs my help, and the love that I bare for her is deep and true. I feel her pain." Galadriel continues. She wanted to protect you. Forever.

"- my daughter was scarred, wounds inflicted upon her soul. I fear that these dreams may happen again, that she may dream of a future that we cannot see - and we'll lose her." she whispered.

Elrond reluctantly agrees with Galadriel's plan.

Your father was right!

Lothlorien filled you with tranquility. A feeling of safety that you've lost to the abyss. It felt like your mother's embrace, caging you and preventing the fall. Lady Galadriel continued monitoring you - keeping the darkness at bay, ensuring that you wouldn't remember your dreams even if they were to happen at night.

Soon after, happiness returned.

One night, while you were sleeping - your dreams were able to seep through the web of your grandmother's enchantment, and you dreamt of an elven-prince.

He was fair in the face, his hair was long and golden. He wore a crown of flowers and his voice was like honey to the ear. His name was Prince Thranduil of Greenwood, and he was to be yours.

(AMON LANC)

"What causes your joy, meleth?" Thranduil wraps his arms around your waist, allowing the moonlight to illuminate your features.

"I remembered something." you hummed, burying your face in his chest. The smell of vanilla and sandalwood invades your nose. You continued inhaling his scent, a scent that reminded you of home. "Pray tell," he whispered - allowing the peace to settle in your chambers. "The birth of our twins," you smiled.

The happiest day of your life. Erynlas and Legolas were born, they were born in the longest summer of Greenwood. Your father told you that it was a good omen, that your children would bring good harvest. The locals of Laketown were quick to send gifts down the river for the elfling, and all was well in Arda.

"I remember your panic-stricken face." you pointed out, he responded with a small chuckle. "I was afraid, but seeing our children brought relief." he admitted.

"We must enjoy it while it lasts. I remember Elladan and Elrohir, they grew up swiftly and my parents were left longing for the days when they were elflings." you continued. "Our children inherited your gentle disposition," he noted.

"- and none of your petulance." you were quick to retort.

"None yet." he smiled, as if knowing something that I didn't.

There was silence between them; the kind of silence that persevered between two people who understood one another.

"You were dreaming, yesterday." he opened his mouth, unable to see your face that was buried in his chest. "Dreaming about what?" you raised an eyebrow, long having forfeited the power of remembering your dreams. "You were mumbling things, kept saying 'no'." he reported, concern was evident in his features.

As much as you tried to remember the dreams, you couldn't.

"Was it your foresight that made you dream such?" he inquired. Your eyebrows merged together, and that familiar tightness on your chest returned. What if something was to happen on your family?

You had to exhaust every possible option to keep them safe. "I-I don't know, but it could've been just a nightmare." you comforted him. You pulled away from his embrace, opting to stare at his face.

"- and if it wasn't then I promise to keep us safe." you promised.

"I promise the same." he vowed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "- but you must rest, for we shall have an early morning tomorrow." he noted, reminding you that you were about to leave Amon Lanc to escape the darkness that wished to take hold of Greenwood.

You awakened in the middle of the night. Lifting the covers off your body, you frowned, not seeing your husband so you decide to tiptoe towards the children's rooms. A groan escapes your mouth, feeling that horrible headache forming at the back of your head. Could this be? This must be another one of your dreams.

Your husband was telling you about the words that escaped your mouth whilst sleeping. Was the truth about to reveal itself?

You walked through the empty hallways, seeing no guards on their post. Peculiar. Your hands danced through the fabric of the tapestries that littered the walls. Weaves of forests and elves.

Even art created by Thranduil.

You entered the Twins' bedroom, seeing them slumber peacefully in their beds. Erynlas, the heir, inherited your husband's features. Her long flowing locks and piercing blue eyes, a copy of your husband.

Legolas, was the same, although he had your eyes and your demeanor. He was always patient, allowing his sister to play with his toys, not shedding a single tear when she grabs it from his hands.

You pressed a kiss to both of their foreheads.

If this was a dream, then why isn't anything happening?

Have your dreams evolved to find a different form? That tangible darkness wasn't watching or standing beside you. The darkness wasn't in this room. Have you found peace?

You shouldn't have spoken too soon, because a second later a dagger was pressed to her neck. "Look what I've found," the human opened his mouth with a chuckle. They were mercenaries. You've seen that crest before, but you couldn't remember where.

"Idiot, the bounty says that we're supposed to kill the prince." the other man rolled his eyes, but the man holding a dagger to your neck chuckled. "I think this ones an elf, a princess methinks." he took a slice of your neck, allowing little blood to trickle down your nightgown.

This scene has already played before, in your dreams, but you couldn't remember it - you couldn't remember until it's already happened. And wherever you went, you found that you were already there. "I wonder how much they'd pay for her head." he pondered.

"The Lurgburz would give us a fortune, but we were sent here to kill an heir. She is not an heir." the other man responded. You wanted to speak, but the darkness prevents you from raising your voice. 'I am an heir too. Lord Elrond's.' but the visions make you mute.

There were tears spilling out of your eyes. You felt weak. Hopeless against them.

"Then let's kill the prince's heir. Much easier than killing the prince. He's a great warrior, I've heard and if his wife's awake. Won't he be awake too?" the man continued holding the dagger on your neck.

"Which means that we have to make this quick." the other man reached for the dagger in his pockets. "Which one's the heir?" the man stared at you, and he'll forever be haunted by that look in your eyes. Red, wide, in fear.

"No," you mumbled watching as the other man stands in the middle of their cribs. "If you don't tell us then we'll kill them both." he threatened and air runs out of your lungs.

"No," you continued to mumble. They found joy in toying with you. They found joy in threatening a creature that was older than them. The other man lifted Erynlas' blankets, seeing a pink nightgown on her body. "This one's the heir," the other man stated.

"We should kill the boy, a boy is more valuable than a girl." the man surmised, forcing his mortal standards unto your elvish ones. "No, not the boy." you whispered - your subconscious knowing something that your conscious mind didn't.

Your subconscious knew that Legolas was the key to Arda's freedom. That he'd be a part of the Fellowship, and thus, he couldn't die. "She speaks," the other man teased, raising his dagger pointing it on your daughter's neck. And the tangible darkness that used to haunt you, that used to watch beside you, became a guiding hand.

Told you to grab Legolas and run.

The man's grip on you softened, he walked towards your daughter's crib. "No, no...." you mumbled, staring at the room once covered with leaves and little toys that you bought from Laketown.

You reluctantly reach for Legolas in his bed. Lifting him off the mattress while he continued his slumber. The darkness told you that Erynlas was born to die, while your son was born to live.

You walked down the stairs, about to return to your chambers but the darkness stops you from doing that. Instead leading you towards King Oropher's chambers. You open his doors - to your surprise they weren't locked tonight.

King Oropher stirs awake, seeing a figure enter his chambers. "Good morrow?" he paused, thinking that it was his handmaidens that had come to wake him. But once his vision turns back to normal, he realizes that it was you - and he sees the tears in your eyes, lips mumbling words that he could not fathom.

He repeats your name, seeing you sit on the floor - rocking your body back and forth. He was about to speak again, but you prevent him from doing so. "They took the heir." you cried out - unable to even speak like a mother, in fear, forced to speak like your perpetrators.

A/N: Made for my own self-indulgence. Inspired by EP1 of HOTDS2.

[waywardangel-wilds]

Most unhinged HC about post-MJ everlark?

Hmmm I don’t know. I feel like my hcs are pretty tame. Let me write down my most silly ones:

No.1: they gossip together. They GAB. They love to talk shit at home.

No.2: Katniss has a jealous fit over something or someone and Peeta which Peeta reacts to with confusion and then laughs about it for years. “Hey Katniss, remember when—” “SHUT UP.”

No.3: Peeta’s on a mission to have sex everywhere he’s ever wanted to in his fantasies. All furniture. In the woods. In the bakery. They would do the school too but the chances of getting arrested and traumatizing someone are too high. Oh and in Peeta’s new-to-him truck too.

No. 4: Peeta cannot be normal about sports. As the volunteer coach he’s gotten complaints but no one is brave enough to tell him to stop being so annoying outright. Imagine Katniss watching in the background with sunglasses and a smirk during a sunny day.

No. 5: Peeta and Katniss enjoyed doing the whole “polishing my gun” routine (but without an actual gun lol) for their daughter’s first boyfriend.

No. 6: Katniss cannot be normal about Peeta on the days after they sleep together for the first time. She wants to do it all the time. When they go out in public it’s kind of obvious by her face alone what she’s thinking about. It makes construction crews laugh and elderly ladies raise their eyebrows. Haymitch laughed so hard he choked and slapped his knee. Called her a starving dog and Peeta the unfortunate piece of meat in her path. Peeta does not care, he’s getting lots of liquids in, he can do this.

No. 7: if Finnick had survived he’d be the most no-boundaries friend ever. He’d just show up unannounced all the time. Picture him in flip flops and a Hawaiian shirt ready to use Peeta and Katniss’s nonexistent grill. The friendship would be immaculate. He’d be the glue who’d form the victors friend group: Jo, Peeta, Katniss, Annie and Finnick. He’d force them all to get on his boat all the time. He’d introduce Peeta to rum just to watch his face get all pink. He’d see Katniss like this little-sister best friend type but he’d still make dirty jokes at her cause she’ll never be able to handle those. Him and Jo are the best duo. Bro should have lived.

No. 8: Katniss, at 38, can still miss the point when someone tells her a dirty joke which her friends LOVE. she’s frequently like “what are you talking about?” And everyone just laughs. Also, Katniss is so used to Peeta just getting her that when her friends complain about their husbands not listening, or not understanding her honest reaction is: “just break up???” And everyone is like “girl, it’s not that serious. You just have the perfect husband.”

No. 9: Katniss cried one time when her daughter said she didn’t want to play with her anymore because who wants to play with their mom when they could just go outside and play with their friends. Peeta found her sobbing over a tray of cookies and tried not to laugh because it really isn’t that serious. It’s totally okay for ten year olds to want to be outside, but Katniss was still like “she doesn’t like me 😭”

No. 10: Where Peeta was a hopeless romantic who only ever wanted to be with one girl Peeta’s son goes through girls like water. It’s what Peeta yells about in the car when it’s just him and the boy. “Why?! Be respectful! I didn’t raise you like this!” I’m a believer in that the toastbabies are nothing like their parents. They’re their own unique ppl with the ability of driving both their parents up the wall. I looove thinking about them being teenagers and rebelling. Their kids grew up in a mansion, they’re gonna have a fun rebellion haha.

[pettyprocrastination]

The Deathly Devout

Pairing: Executioner!König x Nun!Reader (Medieval au) 

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Religious themes and settings, talk of death, religious guilt, nothing much this is pretty tame. I have very little knowledge of how catholic confessionals actually go especially in a medieval setting forgive me. probably many spelling errors im sorry. 

Author’s Note: was talking to @thesadvampire about @hffhifjou fucking amazing art of the 141 as knights and now we have Executioner!König. This is mostly just a word burst from this morning but I really like this concept and wanted to share with you all 

Tagging some mutuals I think might enjoy this: @sprout-fics @humanransome-note @moondirti @fnny-bnny @yeehaw-djarin @captainsamwlsn

_______________--

     It was quite amusing to see the executioner in the confessional booth. 

     That isn’t to say that he doesn’t visit often, no. If anything it’s the exact opposite, Father Montomgery sees him more than any pious banker or self-hating gambler in the city. But the man was monstrous, broad in his shoulders with thick arms and legs to match, resulting in him having to twist and fold his body to properly fit into the little wooden booth. He could see the silhouette of the poor man’s shoulders hunched in and head tucked low. 

     It almost made up for how absolutely aggravating he was to listen to. 

     “Forgive me father for I have sinned.” 

     “May God, who has enlightened every heart, help you know your sins and trust in his mercy.” 

     König swallows. 

     “I killed a man this week.” 

     The priest, knowing this voice better than others and the hulking silhouette it belongs to, sighs. 

     “The thief, then?” He asks, voice dripping with indifference. “The little painter who was caught stealing?” 

     “Yes father.” 

     The “little thief” has been a blossoming apprentice under a most respected artist within the city, only for the truth to come out that he had been stealing funds from his mentor for months on end.  The king had suggested König simply cut off the painter’s hands and let him live out the rest of his days in poverty. “What better punishment for an artist than a life where he cannot create?” 

     But the end ruling was for the artist to lose his head in the town-square and König’s hands delivered the blade to his neck. 

     “That was simply an act of your work, my child.” 

     “But-” 

     There is a deep sigh from the opposite side of the booth and König falls silent, like a scolded child. 

     The irony isn't lost on the priest, that a man who must associate himself with the macabre so often is incredibly devout in his worship. But the humor was drowned out by how astonishingly self-loathing the poor bastard was. 

     “My child, do you believe our king is the one true king?”

     “Of course father.” 

     “And do you believe our God is the one, true, God?” 

     There’s a garbled noise that comes from the larger man, an incredulous sputtering at how the priest would ever assume he would say otherwise. 

     It makes the man chuckle. 

     “Of course father!” 

     “Then acting out the King’s law is acting out God’s law, is it not?” 

     There’s a pause, the priest can see the man shrink down into his seat even further, if that was even possible with how he contorted the bulk of his body to squeeze into the wooden booth. 

     “I’m not saying you cannot feel-” He waves his hand in the air, despite the fact that König cannot truly see him. “-conflicted, about your career. It’s not one that comes easily, I’m sure. But it is not one that makes you a monster, despite how many people would try to have you believe that.” 

     “Yes father.” 

     The man’s voice is a shred of what it should be- all but a trembling whisper that makes even the exhausted priest frown. 

     “Being an executioner isn’t an easy job. But it’s one that is needed nonetheless.” 

     König says something softly to himself, but the priest cannot be bothered to ask what. 

     “For your sins I-” 

     “Actually, father-” the wooden step creaked under his weight as he shifted on his knees. “There’s something else.” 

     “Oh?” 

     “I’ve been having impure thoughts about a woman.” 

     “Oh.” 

     The priest blinks. He had never heard the man speak of any sin aside from the violence he acted out on the King’s word. Truth be told he had begun to think the lad was so devout such a concept was all but foreign to him. 

     But this?

     “I’m listening, my child.” 

     This was far more interesting than listening to him bemoan about a town square beheading. 

     “She is-” König chews on the inside of his cheek, chipped teeth digging into the formed scars he has had since childhood from the nervous habit. “Promised to somebody else.” 

     The priest hides a snicker behind a well placed cough. 

     “Married?”

     “In a manner of speaking, yes.” 

      “I haven’t…acted upon them.” The man who has killed week after week fiddles with his hands, face turning bright red as simply speaking of his attraction toward the woman. The priest couldn't help but wonder who she was. Whether it be a kind tavern girl who ignored his gaze each day he walked by or a local prostitute that urged on his affection as long as he could afford her time. 

     It’s no secret that few women would concern themselves with the local executioner, if not even look him in the eyes. 

     “She’s a good woman of proper virtue, I would not sully her name in such a way.” 

     This poor bastard. 

     “Is she beautiful?” 

     “I’m sorry?” 

     “The woman you speak of, do you find her attractive?” 

     König swallows. “Yes, incredibly. Her smile rivals that of the sun and-” 

     “That’s more than enough.” The priest grins into his hand as the airy tone the executioner’s voice took on, like a poet reciting his latest venture. The man was properly lovesick, how charming. “I do not believe you have committed any sin in appreciating a woman’s beauty.” 

     “I haven’t?” 

     “Admiring a woman’s beauty is like admiring a piece of art, is it not?” The priest offers. “You are simply taking in the art that God has created with his own hands, my child.” 

     Before König has a chance to respond, through the lattice he sees a flash of white through the corner of his eye. A soft voice humming a tune fills the air, echoing through the church hall like a well-respected hymn. In a panic, König begins to stand his full height before he is halted in his tracks as the top of his head slams into the confessional roof. 

     “My son?” 

     “Ah, apologies father! But I have to leave because of-” 

     The priest nods. “Yes, yes of course.You are absolved of your sins, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good.” 

     The final word is drowned out by the slam of the confessional door opening the man’s thundering footsteps receding from the booth. 

     The executioner stands to his full height as he exits the church. He shields his eyes as he steps outside, suddenly overwhelmed by the burst of sunlight. 

     In his haste, he did not see the figure at his side. 

     “Good morning to you, König.”

     The man jumps, twisting around to face you where you stand at the bottom church steps, broom in hand and a smile on your face. 

     “Ah! Yes! Good morning to you as well, sister.” 

     “A lovely day, is it not?” 

     Heat creeps up the back of his neck and he struggles to find the words he wished to speak to you. But you, ever patient and kind, wait without judgment. 

     “Yes, quite lovely.” 

     As König stares down at you, his heart beating as he watches the sun shine on your figure and your smile, he finds himself thinking of the Holy Father’s words.

     “You are simply taking in the art that God has created with his own hands”

     What beautiful art indeed. 

[metalomagnetic]

I feel like I’m always harassing you with my asks (sorry!!), but bouncing off of my previous request for Black lore- what are the Blacks (that we know) like ✨in bed✨? What are they into?

I spent way too long thinking of this!

We'll start with Sirius the Grandpa Black. I have a feeling he was wild in bed, like he was wild in everything. Curiously, I spoke with a friend about this just the past week, and I said 'he made his wife very happy in bed, and exasperated outside of it'. He was a leg man- he loved long, shapely legs on a woman. In his time-period, no one could see a woman's legs, all hidden by long skirts, but he had a way of guessing beforehand lol.

Arcturus- funnily enough, in the new chapter I am writing, Sirius jokes that Arcturus probably only had sex twice in his life, because he cannot see his strict grandfather as a sexual being. And while he certainly had sex more than twice, I think he was pretty standard in bed, nothing crazy, just plain old missionary style. He was a virgin when he married and never cheated on his wife, even after she died, had no desire for anyone other than her.

Pollux and Irma (in my story she's also a Black, half, on her mother's side) have the same dynamic in bed they have in real life. Irma really likes dominating him, and in bed, he actually enjoys it.

Cygnus has a pregnancy kink 😂 That aside, poor man hadn't had much sex since his wife fell into a deep depression.

Alphard was into nerdy, quiet men with a hint of a wild side (he once had a brief crush on Tom Riddle, of course). He was a very generous partner, in bed and outside of it. His last partner, whom he'd been with on and off for like two decades, and actually lived with for the last five years of his life, almost made an appearance in Canis Major, but I had to let the scene go. Alphard left what remained of his wealth to Sirius, but he left his beautiful home to his partner, who was disowned by his family when he moved in with Alphard.

Orion, like the hypocrite he is, likes wilful, stubborn women that defy social convention. The surest way to attract his attention was to 'behave atrociously' (as he would call it) in public. He's twisted, and he enjoys pursing strong women, only to dominate them when he gets them. As soon as he 'tames' them, he loses interest in them. He's very good in bed, very open minded unlike in every other aspect of his life. No one ever left Orion's bed unsatisfied.

Orion needs intimacy- he never had a simple one night stand. Even with his briefest affairs, he still took the time to know them first, and never jumped in bed at the first opportunity, nor was he one to feel attraction for a woman just based on her looks. I think he liked 'the hunt' most of all.

That aside, if his marriage hadn't broken apart, he'd have never cheated on Walburga. Before everything went to hell, for the first ten years of their marriage, he didn't even think of other women, was 1000000% satisfied with his wife. Even after it all went down the drain, during the years, whenever Walburga gave the briefest sign she wants him back in her bed, he'd abandon whoever he was with and come *running* back home, eating up whatever scrap of affection he could get from her.

Walburga was basically into everything Orion suggested, and she had a few suggestions of her own (learned from those erotica and sometimes straight up smut novels that she loves and were mentioned very briefly in It runs) that she wanted to try out. She loves dangerous men (that's why we see her reading books with a naked, fanged vampire on the cover). I'm certain she made Orion pretend he was a vampire at least once 😂 She also had a slight exhibitionism streak when she was younger and they lived in Egypt, which put Orion on edge (but also secretly delighted him). They weren't even having full on sex back then (Orion insisted they wait until marriage) but she found ways to rile him up and play with him and drive him mad until they finally retuned to England and got married.

Bellatrix is creative and she always chases a thrill, and her sex life is fabulous. Rabastan, poor dear, had seen and heard things in that Manor that either give him nightmares, either inappropriate dreams staring his sister in law and his brother. Sometimes, Bellatrix likes duels as foreplay, so she and Rodolphus destroy parts of the Manor and then fuck in the middle of the damage. Of course, they also have calmer sex, an entire day of lazying in bed with Rodolphus, filled with gentle love-making. But when they're feeling more wild and duels come into play, whoever wins gets to dictate the encounter.

No one knows what Narcissa likes in bed, only Lucius, and it took him like a few years to find out. So whatever happens in bedrooms in Malfoy Manor, shall remain between them.

Andromeda takes after her grandmother Irma, both in bed and out of it. Ted is her boy toy. He does whatever she asks, and they both enjoy it a lot.

Regulus, the little repressed freak, once he finally gets to have sex, he lets loose, and then he feels guilty for it, because he considers whatever he did as something beneath a man of his station. Orion should have really paid more attention to him, but he was also very young when Orion died, so they didn't get to have fun sex talk like Sirius got. He's so allergic to feelings and affection, he enjoys impersonal sex the most. Regulus only knows to accept love and give it back with his mother and his brother, no one else.

Sirius is- well, we know Sirius. Because of the way he was raised and all the shit he got from his mother about liking boys, he does have certain unhealthy behaviours. He adheres to the strict gender roles when it comes to sex, so when he's with a woman, he must always be in charge. That doesn't mean he isn't adventurous, but only as long as he has control. Even when he first gets with Voldemort, he unconsciously puts Voldemort in the 'woman's role' in his head. It takes a while for him to get comfortable, and he's lucky Voldemort is a very patient dude. Obviously, after that happens, we can see Sirius definitely has some sort of Daddy kink. Not that he'd think of it like that, nor would the word 'daddy' ever be uttered while he has sex with Voldemort, but he enjoys being taken care of by an older, powerful man. He also has a big praise kink, so there's that.

He's into different things in bed, depending if he's with a man or a woman. And while he did have plenty of mindless one night stands, I think he is most satisfied when he has a deep connection with his partner. He's desperate for affection, for a true connection, even if he was also afraid of having a bond like that. It's why he tried to distance himself from Marlene, even if he wanted her, because he was simply afraid of growing too close.

You never harass me with questions! I love the questions, especially because they make me think of my lovely Blacks and their mysterious lives. ❤️

[joocomics]

who in xdinary heroes slaps pussy

just smut | xdh x fem!reader | mdni

cw: sub!reader, oral sex, overstimulation, edging, squirting, brat taming

i decided to share my thoughts on which members of xdh like to slap pussy - this is just fiction & personal assumptions, based entirely on loose impressions ~ hope you enjoy reading <3

♡ gunil

he decides to not spank your ass this time

with him it happens out of nowhere, but the way he handles the situation, makes you realise he’s been wanting to do this for awhile, although he probably won’t admit it if you ask

you’ve had some bickering going on troughout the day and just when you’re about to go to bed, he sees you’re not wearing any underwear under your nightdress. for some reason this rubs gunil the wrong way, so he decides to do something about it. before you have time to resist or even blink, he has you pulled into his lap - your back is leaning against his chest, your head is resting on his shoulder, and he has full control of what happens between your legs from now on… “didn’t i buy you enough panties to wear?” he hisses in your ear, still irritated with you and the way you’ve been misbehaving all day, distracting him from work

he pulls up your dress, but not in a sensual manner. his dominance really comes out in this moment, making his actions more rougher than usual, but he knows you like it - your legs immediately open, welcoming his fingers inside

the first slaps are not too harsh, but not light either, he wants you to feel them. you gasp at the immediate sting coming from his heavy palm. his free arm is placed around your shoulders, holding your body in place, as you start shuffling around from a nice warm sensation creeping up in your lower tummy. he alternates between hitting your flushed clit and thrusting fingers inside you, then goes back to slapping. the more aggressive his hand gets, the more you drip desperately on the bedsheets… every time he comes back to fingering your squeezing hole you fill the room with loud liquid noises, causing him to call you out on the filthy things that turn you on

he keeps talking in your ear, as your whines rise higher, but the more aroused he gets, the more his tone softens. his hard bulge pokes at your squirming body so nice he might as well cum in his pants like a loser. “shit, is this what my princess likes now? getting punished for being a bad girl?” he moves his hand from your chest to your scalp, forcing you to turn to him by pulling on your hair. he might hum and shush at you gently now, but it’s some of the nastiest things he’s ever said to you

♡ jiseok/gaon

he wants to make you squirt

you bet jiseok has been wanting to slap your pussy since the day he met you! now that you’re together, he also really really badly wants to make you squirt. he’s a messy guy - nothing excites him more than having you sprawled out on his bed with a fucked out face, too fucked out to even blink or talk

after he makes you cum twice, he tells you he wants to try something new and pushes your already shaking thighs apart. you cannot resist him, so you give in under his excited touch… when he puts a pillow under your body, lifting up your hips, he slides his flat tongue from your dripping entrance to your sensitive clit, causing you to see stars. “wanna make you squirt all over me, baby doll.” he moans against your folds before pulling away, “will you do that for me today?” he makes the first slap directly onto your sensitive clit with such eagerness. seeing how you jerk up from surprise to look at him with wide eyes makes him chuckle. he immediately slaps you again, “answer me, doll.”

the smaks gradually begin to land faster and harsher, making your skin flush in a color jiseok finds so arousing. for a moment you doubt yourself, you might not be able to go through this, it’s too much to handle, but jiseok doesn’t wanna hear it - he wants you to squirt! just like in the numerous porn videos he’s watched. so he takes his time and fingers you, rubs you, hits you with his palm, and when his hand starts to hurt with his cock. he lets you rest during the unbearable edging, promising you that at the end you’ll feel amazing, you just have to be more patient; you just have to endure some more. “you’re doing so fuckin’ good, come on… my doll can’t give up now.”

he gathers juices from your tortured hole, eats them off his fingers and smacks your cunt with a satisfied smile, cause you’re getting closer to his wish. when you barely manage to tell him you badly need to release, he pumps his fingers deep into you furiously, making your whole body jiggle. you fall apart so beautifully, giving him what he wanted. he’s over the moon when he gets on top of you to lick the tears off your face

♡ jooyeon

he slaps you as a joke at first

one thing to take into consideration about jooyeon is that if he licks you once, he cannot stop! so when you let him go down on you one day, and he gets all cosy between your legs, he doesn’t even realise that you’ve already cummed, and he just keeps on going overstimulating you with his greedy mouth. he holds your thighs tightly, occasionally bringing a hand to your stomach. he’s slurping, moaning and fucking your pulsing hole with tongue as fast as he can

you get overwhelmed, arching your back a little too much, legs shaking and shifting around him like crazy, making it hard for jooyeon to keep his tongue on you. so in a result, he snaps playfully giving your pussy a light smack, as a way to scold you for not staying still. he’s never done this to you before and you get surprised, but even more than that - turned on

the slaps continue when he finds out you’ve been hiding your orgasm a secret from him, but the truth is he likes slapping your cunt now, and he’s just using the moment as a reason to do it. you both slowly realise that this play is turning you on a lot more than you expected, and before you know it you’re both moaning between the loud dirty hits. “baby, is it too much? i can stop if you want,” he asks just in case, but you immediately shake your head, begging him to make you finish again, and he gets soo excited

he watches with an open mouth how your whole pussy gets red and hot from his palm smacking directly onto it repeatedly; how your toes curl from every new hit. periodically he checks your wetness by sliding two fingers inside you, and he absolutely melts at the fact you only get more and more soaked. “fuck, gonna cum again for me soon?” he grins, spreading the sticky juices over your swollen clit. his fingertips move sooo lightly and soooo slowly it makes you lose your damn mind. your burning pussy warms up his palm nicely, before he pulls it away for another slap “damn, this is really turning me on, baby… wanna feel how hard i am?”