#it feels like i'm just trying to find any little bit of joy between all of the grieving

[bewilderedbunny]

.

[justporo]

Do you have any headcanons on what Astarion and Tav's home would look like? :)

You bet, I do! But I put some more thought into it over the day so may I present you with:

Domestic headcanons about what Tav's and Astarion's home in Baldur's Gate would look like

After your adventures and some looting of certain castles you go to buy a small but luxurious townhouse in the Upper City of Baldur's Gate - probably criminally under its actual worth but you two are just so convincing, aren't you?

Dark wooden floors, high windows (with thick brocade curtains of course), wrought-iron balcony and fence - it's giving gothic and dark academia but in a homey and warm way

Soft lighting everywhere, lots of candles and candelabra, a fire place of course and oil lanterns that make every room feel warm and cozy

Astarion has impeccable taste and enjoys a bit of decadence (of course) and really finds joy in picking out furniture and decorations - he's going for noble, rich, palace-y, posh vibes, but tasteful

Also Tav would stop him from going overboard - she's not used to all the pompous stuff and cares more about the pracitcality of it all; also she's definitely the one who brings in some plants and greenery; also some nice stuff for Scratch because I'm sure Tav would insist on being the one to keep him

When Tav says she'd rather likes it simple tho... "Simple, love? Everyone can have simple, but not just anyone can have beautiful!" "So... you are not denying that beautiful means more complicated?" "No, but isn't that also why you chose me after all? Because I'm intricately complicated and incredibly beautiful?" Can't argue with that logic

Tav's also focused on making it cozy though and especially creating comfy little corners where they can just lounge together: like a little alcove to sit and read or look out the window or some pillows on the wood floor so you can sit in front of the fire place

There's a chaise-longue somewhere in the house - maybe in the incredibly over-sized dressing room, so Astarion can lay on it and watch Tav dress

DEFINITELY NO MIRRORS - no need to remind Astarion of that particular part of his condition; also why would he need it if you can tell him how beautiful he is everyday?

There's also a piano (as we have learnt before *wink*) and lots of books and trinkets and artworks - Astarion likes all stuff having to do with arts

It might be messy, at least at the beginning, you're both not used to having and holding onto stuff, also Astarion's desperately trying to find himself - that comes with creative chaos

Is there even a need to mention the bed is huge? And also has very much cliché dark red silk sheets? But it's probably the piece of furniture where you spend the most of your nights, not only for mingeling but just sitting and laying there, reading, drawing, talking, teasing each other

Also at some point you'd probably get a joint portrait but you don't want it to be too stiff and regal rather wanting it to show how much joy you give each other

The kitchen is to spoil Tav: when Astarion finds out you enjoy cooking and are pretty skilled at it he gets you all the best equipment he can find - even though you don't know how to use half of it - yet

Oof, I could maybe keep going some more... Thanks for the message, it was fun to think about this. (Also I know I might be swinging between medieval and more victorian vibes but hush, it's a fictional world where everything is possible) Also I knew I wouldn't yet do requests - but really that was just me putting something out there I already thought about. And I'll do some requests soon!

[tlbodine]

Stuck? Try junebugging.

I don't know who needs to hear this, but we're 5 days into nanowrimo so maybe this will be helpful.

Do you want the safety and surety of knowing what happens next in your story but can't stick to an outline? Does knowing in advance what will happen suck the joy out of discovery writing? Do you try to wing it through plots but get tangled in plot holes or have a story that runs out of steam because you can't figure out what went wrong? Are you at your most creative when you have a little bit of guidance? Do you tend to under-write? Do you get ideas in your head for random scenes and snippets that drop from the sky without context?

If any of these apply to you, junebugging a draft might be for you!

What Is Junebugging?

Since you're on Tumblr, you might already be familiar with the concept of junebugging as it relates to cleaning. If not -- I think the idea was first introduced to me by @jumpingjacktrash.

The basic idea is that you tackle cleaning by way of controlled chaos. You pick a specific area you want to focus on, like your kitchen sink, and then wander off to deal with other things as they occur to you, but always returning back to that area. You end up cleaning a little bit at a time in an order that may not make sense to an outsider but which keeps you from getting overwhelmed and discouraged.

How Does Junebugging Work in Writing?

OK, so that's great, but how does this work with writing? Well. In my case, the general idea is to jump between writing linearly, outlining, and writing out of order. It usually looks something like:

Start free-writing a scene, feeling my way through it and enjoying the discovery process.

Thinking, ok, now I have this scene, did anything need to happen to lead up to it? Do I need to go back and add some foreshadowing? Does this scene set anything up that needs to be paid off? And then jump forward/back to make those adjustments.

I'll usually have a bunch of disconnected ideas of ideas that have popped into my head, so I'll write those down in a list somewhere and then try to figure out what goes in between them and what order it goes in.

I'll write what I call "micro-scenes" which is where I'll just sketch out a few essential elements of what's going on without worrying too much about details, description, etc. -- just he did this, she said that, the setting was this, real bare-bones script. Then I can come back through and flesh out each of those microscenes into an actual scene later.

Got a story that has a complex structure? No problem. Write through each storyline one at a time and then chop them up and weave them together afterward. Write all the B plot scenes first then come back through to do A plot and C plot. Move the pieces around like legos. No one ever has to know.

This method works for me because I can't "decide" story elements in advance. I have never been able to just sit down and "figure out" what happens in a story beyond a couple steps ahead -- I have to discovery-write my way forward. But at the same time, that gets really daunting. So I zoom forward with micro-scenes, roughing out the beats in the most bare-bones way possible, then when I run out of clear vision for what happens next I backtrack, flesh out those scenes, build in connective tissue, etc. and by then I will probably find more inspiration to jump forward.

It's basically folding drafting, outlining, and revising all together into a single phase of writing, which is chaotic and goes against everything people teach you, but if it works? then it fuckin works.

Anyway, sorry for the jumbled-up post, I'm dashing this off quickly while I heat up a pizza and I'm about to dive back into my WIP -- but I hope this was a little helpful. If nothing else, take this as my blanket permission that it's 100% OK to jump around, write out of order, write messy, outline sometimes, pants sometimes, and do whatever else it takes just to get through the story. You've got this. Good luck.

[hvly]

WINDBREAKER VIRGINS YOU SAY 👀👀👀

— ⋆｡˚｡⋆ ｡˚ 𓆩𖥔𓆪 ˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆ —

speaking : yep, you heard right 🙂‍↕️ every show/manga i read is gonna get hit with my virgin ray. "i love virgins, anon ! I LOVE VIRGIIINS !"

𓆩𖥔𓆪 — disclaimer ! these are just my opinions ! if you disagree, cool. let's keep it cute. tbh, they all could be virgins, but they’re the most pressing in my eyes.

Nirei Akihiko

Don't get me wrong, I like Nirei alot ! I think he's super cute and he's so sweet it makes my teeth hurt. But, until his confidence goes up, ain't nothing going down. i do think he has a separate notebook with sex tips that's he gathered from various sources. From friends he worked up the courage to ask, to Cosmo articles, to the pornos he watches on lonely nights. When he finally get brave enough to try though, best believe he'll be prepared for any possible scenario.

Sugishita Kyotaro

Again, I feel like perhaps because he's tall, quiet and handsome, y'all think he'd be laying pipe. I mean, the quiet ones are usually the nastiest in bed, right? extremely loud incorrect buzzer. It'd be a miracle to actually get a sentence out of him. And it'd be another miracle to convince him to come shake the sheets instead of playing Umemiya's shadow. The plants he takes care of have a better chance getting wet by him than you ever will.

Tsugeura Taiga

Straight up, he just scares away any possible suitors. Plus, he's a little slow on the uptake. Between being loud and a bit off putting, and his his inability to catch social cues, he is unfortunately stuck in perpetual virgindom. That's it, that's all.

Sakura Haruka

Now, put the torches and pitchforks down before y'all drag me to the town square. How do we as a collective think Sakura would react if he saw you naked? Stand there reveling in the majesty that is you, dick so hard he might pass out? No. He'd turn red and start yelling before you even get your shoes off. Get him more comfortable with being romantic/sexual, and i’m sure the yelling, stomping, flailing and cherry red blush will die down…in a couple years. Best of luck !

Saku Mizuki

Wannabe General Mizuki. The minute I saw him, I knew he was getting NO pussy. And that makes me sad for him, it truly does. He's too stiff. If, for some odd reason on your part, you decided to lay the moves on him, he'd probably lecture you on how it's inappropriate to shamelessly flirt with people. He'd kill the mood so bad. Plus that one dude called him ugly and he turned around..oof

Takiishi Chika

Take this one with a grain of salt, but from what I've gathered...he just would not be interested. I'm sure Endo has tried bringing it to his attention before. And I'm also sure he got the fire knocked out his ass as soon as it left his mouth. Now, if does decide to get his dick wet, I hope you're fully resigned to letting him do whatever he wants and possibly leaving unsatisfied. Utter anything that sounds like you're telling him what to do? Let's leave getting beat up to Endo, mkay?

Shuhei Suzuri

I think he finds fulfillment and joy in his hobbies and that's all he needs. Being able to cook for people and enjoy his games gives him the satisfaction he was missing when he was in extreme poverty. I'm sure he wouldn't really mind losing his virginity either way, but it's definitely not on the forefront of his mind. A consistently full belly and a couple video games is good enough for now.

Choji Tomiyama

He thinks everything is a game and plays entirely too much to just be fucking for real. And I think he's fine with that ! He's carefree and he's content knocking people's heads together. I do think you could probably get him to give losing his virginity a true shot if you compare him to Umemiya or make it a competition, though. But who's gonna do all that to nut? (I really just added him to make one specific person mad. Let me know if it worked <3)

Honorable Mention : Togame Jo & Umemiya Hajime

Just cuz I want to be the one to take their virginity. I have no real reason LMAOOO.

© 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘰 hvly 2024. 𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧y.

[obsessedwrhys]

Hello, could you create a headcanon for ROTTMNT where Leo and Donnie, separately, fall in love with a female reader who can transform into a giant white snake

DISASTER TWINS X SNAKE!READER

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ fluff, no angst, bunch of goofiness, fem reader!!

LEO

When he met you, he thought you were just a simple human April had introduced to him and his brothers.

So when you suddenly transformed into a giant white snake to help the brothers fight against the foot clan, it threw him off guard.

UH YOU'RE A YOKAI?!?!?!?

He was completely drawn towards your snake form. The head was adorned with intricate patterns and your eyes glistened like twin emeralds. He could feel himself being lured into a hypnosis everytime he stares into them.

Of course that doesn't mean he likes your human form any less.

Once he finally got to know you properly, he couldn't help but fall for you HARD.

You were naturally quiet but the moment you talk to someone you were comfortable with or trusted very much, you would just beam with this beautiful glow as you talked about your favourite topic.

That's what Leo finds so fascinating about you.

After learning some of your interests or hobbies, he would always purposely ask you about a certain thing related to it just to see that joy on you. Your smile was infectious that he would sometimes fail to notice himself smiling while listening to you talk.

He also realised you would hiss whenever you were frustrated or felt threatened, you say that it's a hard habit to let go even when you were in your human form. It was just your instincts.

He doesn't mind much about it but he can't help but find it adorable when you'd hiss at someone just because they wanted one piece of the potato chips you were enjoying.

Since you curl up everytime you sleep, you'd constantly be found sleeping on one of the sofas curled up like a snake would. Leo once stumbled upon you in that state and was concern on whether or not if your back hurts sleeping like that for such a long time.

That's why the next time you went to your usual spot to nap, you'd find it filled with blankets and pillows for you to snuggle with. You didn't know who it was but seeing the familiarity of the pillows, you knew immediately it was Leo.

All these little moments shared between you both, Leo would storm up ideas of the right way to confess his feelings to you.

This was a once in a lifetime opportunity that he wouldn't dare miss!!

That is why he decided to ask you out to Run of the Mill Pizza. The first reason being that he'll feel most confident if he has his buddy Hueso there to provide some support and the second reason being him wanting to treat you to some good pizza.

The night went on just fine, you were laughing and enjoying yourself. After dinner was over, he had insisted to take you to a good spot to enjoy the city view. To your surprise the rooftop of the building was decorated with flowers.

As you examined the flowers clearly planted by the owner of the place, you failed to notice Leo who had a bouquet in his hand. It was when you turn around that you finally see it, the roses being the same shade as the blush on his face.

"Oh Leo... you didn't have to"

"Well it's worth it if I get to see that killer smile of yours. Besides, I know I'm probably not the most romantic guy, but I'd like to try" He said and you raise an eyebrow at him, a bit taken back.

"What are you trying to say here?"

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that you've captured the heart of a charming, witty, and incredibly handsome man like myself. Is it too much to ask for yours?"

He'd look at you with a smirk to try to cover up his anxiousness, you couldn't help but laugh as you accept his confession. You can imagine how overjoyed he was when he picked you up and swung you around in his arms.

Which is why you'll have to get use to his terrible dad jokes about your snake abilities. It comes with the love.

"Hey hey (Y/N), what do you call a snake that can't make up its mind?"

"I don’t know, what is it?"

"A hesssssitate!"

Insert him laughing to himself as he slaps his knee.

He's a flirty boy. Not to mention very cheesy at it, he chose to nickname you 'Sapphire' because of your eyes. Just imagine him going around being "Oh my Sapphire" or "My sweet Sapphire" whenever he's talking to you. It drives his brothers insane.

Nonetheless, he thinks that you are the most venomfully gorgeous girl he has ever seen. His words, not mine.

DONNIE

When April had introduced you to the group, he was fascinated with your whitish hair. He was curious whether or not if it was genetics.

The second you had transformed into a giant white snake to save the brothers out of a messy fight. He was completely blown away.

Your scales shimmered like a thousand tiny diamonds and your movements were both fluid and swift. Watching you fight was mesmerising like a scene out of a fantasy movie.

Naturally, after the fight was over and that you've all returned to the lair. He was the first to ask you about your snake form, just imagine the gleam in his eyes as he scribbles down all the information you provided him with.

Just when he thought he has studied everything Yokai, the world ceases to surprise him.

He'd definitely be very analytical once he has your consent to study your snake abilities. But soon his simple idea of coming up with a hypothesis would turn into him getting to know you better.

Despite being cold-blooded, you were the most kindest person he has ever met. You were the type of person to stop whatever it is that you were doing just to help an injured bird. It was a trait he liked about you.

Now back to the hair, when you had finally told him it was genetics due to your snake form, he was amazed by it. It just looked so good on you you know. That's why whenever you're talking to him, you'd always catch his eyes trailing up to your hair to admire the way it moves and looks.

Seeing how you were unbelievably captivating like a myth, he found himself falling deeply in love with you.

Using any excuses he could to spend time with you. His brothers could sense his eagerness to be around you so obviously they would sometimes tease him about his little crush on you, that is surprisingly something you still had no idea about.

You would offer to be in your snake form for him to examine every detail about it. He had to admit, he was afraid to approach you the first time but after some getting use to, he felt more comfortable to touch the scales on your body. It was hard as expected but your belly? It was EXTREMELY SOFT!! You once giggled from how ticklish it felt and he couldn't help but swoon.

Which brings the reason why he is so devoted to make you laugh. It's like music to his ears!!

That's why every now and then you guys would exchange funny memes and videos you'd find online. He prefers to do it in person so he could see your reaction. The way your expression changes as your lips start to curve upwards is what satisfies him the most.

SO WORTH IT!!! He'd always tell himself.

After what seemed to be days, he finally convinced himself to confess his feelings towards you. The problem however is that he struggles with his words, which is ironic considering he's the smartest out of his brothers.

That's why he came up with an idea. He IS smart.

It was a normal day, you were in your apartment simply scrolling through your laptop until a virtual mail with a heart shaped wax seal popped up from the corner of the screen.

At first you were afraid it was a stupid virus you accidentally installed until you see the words 'From Donnie' displayed next to it. Feeling assured, you clicked on it.

Thats when your screen was covered by confetti, you chuckled as you see hearts also floating around the opened mail. You then began to read what was written.

"Hey (Y/N), do you know how sometimes you see a picture of a fluffy kitten, and your heart just melts? Or how you hum along to a song even though you have no idea what the words mean? That's kind of how I feel around you. Just… happy. Feeling of belong... to put it short, I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm kind of falling for you. But no pressure of course!! No expectations!! Just wanted to get that off my chest!! But it wouldn't hurt to ask if you felt the same. Do you feel the same??"

Your heart practically melt by his confession and right below contained two boxes. One writes 'Yes' and the other 'No'.

After a quick minute of consideration and freaking out, you pressed yes. You laugh when a white snake began to slither out and blow you a kiss.

At the other side of the city, the moment Donnie received the answer back from his computer, he almost fell out of his seat from pure shock. YOU SAID YESS?? YOU DIDN'T MISS CLICK RIGHT???

Once the relationship became official, he'd definitely be more affectionate towards you, but he gets easily flustered when it's you who initiate it.

So get use to being showered with gifts because this man expresses his love better with his actions 😚

To put it simply, he worships you and gives you the appreciation you long deserve, from head to toe 'til the end of time.

[novasdarling]

Hii🌹can i ask "It’s so dangerous out there. Can’t you see that?"

with yandere Chrollo please? Thanks🌹

HEHEHEHE this motherfucker would. He's delusional in the scheme of him being like "Yeah my darling is better than me than anywhere else." but also he knows it's just a lie he makes so he doesn't feel too ad when you cry about being with him

Dangerous Out There

TW: Kidnapping, Yandere Behaviour, Mentions of death, Mentions of punishment

The walls were plain and cold. Made of old cement bricks, leaving little room for any warmth or comfort. Any feelings sparking joy or tenderness were missing. Cold, bland, cruel. This jail cell represented the jailkeeper well. A void of happiness and delight was exactly what Chrollo was. Just this blackhole that took and took, destroying everything it touched and devoured.

However, no amount of sadness or begging changed his mind. Nothing let him declaw himself from you. No matter how much you begged these last few weeks, he refused to let go. Rather it seemed like your tears and pleas just made him dig deeper. Made him pull you closer to him, made him add more locks to the doors and windows. Like the more you begged and craved for freedom, the more he held onto you. The more he denied it. The more he felt like he needed to keep you locked away, keep you hidden. But you couldn't help the hope that pooled inside you. Hoping your begging would chip away at him. Make any sort of difference, cause him to feel any kind of remorse and let you go. A hope you would always hold onto.

Chrollo had made his way into the living room. Standing in the doorway, observing from behind as you watched one of the few movies he had provided when he first took you. You could recite it line by line.

"I know you're there."

"Your senses are getting better. Before you wouldn't have noticed me until you could see me."

Chrollo made his way forward, kneeling in front of you. Placing himself between your legs. It made your skin itch. You didn't give him an answer, even as he waited there. Starring up at you. You ignored him. Starring at the dumb movie in front of you. His hands squeezed your thighs.

"Most people say thank you after a compliment."

"Most people don't kidnap."

Chrollo laughed. Finding your response humorous. He always found your rebuttal funny and pleasant. Making it clear he enjoyed the bit of resistance you had. The wit that came with it. Your snappy remarks. It was fun for him, as long as you never went too far.

"Touché." Chrollo rubbed his knuckles over your cheek.

"Don't touch me."

Flinching away, you pushed him. Trying to create some distance from him. Trying to get the man you hated as far away as possible. He tried again, lifting his knuckles up to caress you, but you moved again. Denying him what he wanted twice.

"Enough."

He grabbed your arms. Trying to keep you still. Keeping himself between your legs and you caged.

"Let me go."

Chrollo held on. Dismissing your words as he wrestled you still.

"I want to go home."

Tears were forming in your eyes. You hated this, hated this man. Despised everything about all of this. How the hell did a charming stranger you bumped into one day turn into the man who was holding you captive? A man that killed and hurt people to get you. A man who had no boundaries.

"Let me go. I just want to go back. P-please. I won't tell anyone. I-I promise. I want to-"

"Stop it. Stop it now."

"Go to hell."

You lashed and kicked at him. Trying to get him away. Trying to make him let go. To understand just how much you hated him. How much you wanted him dead. That this wasn't home. That he wasn't what you wanted.

"I said stop it. Listen to me." Chrollo was raising his voice at you. Not yelling, but still enough to try to demand you listen to him. "Listen to me, just listen sweetheart." One hand now held both of your arms as the other made its way to hold your face still. Forcing you to look at him. "I'm trying to help you, my dear. Trying to keep you safe. It’s so dangerous out there. Can’t you see that? Can't you see understand?"

He sounded angry yet, worried. It was a lesson he was trying to push into your mind. Trying to teach you with him was better than elsewhere. Yet, even as his words sounded sincere. You couldn't help, but laugh at him. Laugh at his words. Dangerous? The danger out there? He was fucking deranged. Worse than you thought.

"Whatever is out there, sure as hell can't be worse than being here with you."

Leaning in, close to his face so he could hear your words. Understand what you were saying. Understanding you meant it. That you would rather be out there with whatever he was worried about than with the monster that was pretending to be your saviour.

The look on Chrollo's face had changed. Like he was hurt and angry. Disappointed by your words. You knew that look, you had hurt his little fantasy. Ruined the image of him being your little hero. The look that meant your behaviour needed to be "corrected". That your wit and back talk had crossed the line.

"Seems like you need some reminding why you're here."

"What, another couple of days locked in the closet? I'll take that if it means being away from you." You spat in his face with the last sentence. Showing him you were genuine.

"See, I was thinking something different." Chrollo grabbed your upper arm. Pulling you up and making you follow him. "If you think I'm such a monster, perhaps I should leave you alone with a colleague of mine. Someone who doesn't care about your safety. Someone who doesn't love you like I do. Remember Feitan?"

You had made the worse mistake since he had taken you. Not only had you been resistant to him, but you had made him the enemy. Not just in the scheme of kidnapping, but in the idea of being with him. You told him how you saw him. Now he was going to correct it. Make you see what is worse than him when there is no love to give.

[yestrnight]

how much do I have to pay for svarog sex 😊

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ DILF ROBOT FUCKERZ !

FROM: svarog / afab! reader

SUBJECT: the underground of belobog is a cruel, dark place where it's a competition of the fittest. sweet, little clara is lucky to have svarog as her guardian, but you're even luckier to be able to... heh, get to know him ;)

MESSAGE: nothing to pay but ur dignity babygurl 🥴

( uh me and my doujinshi writing ass at it again; reader is a SL— /svarog counterattack/; overstimulation; robot fucking… duh; svarog is treated as an oversized vibrator cuz that is what he is!!! )

you're not exactly sure when clara pulled you into her little family dynamic with svarog— the svarog, leader of the vagrants, protector of the underworld, and for the longest time, the barrier between upper and lower belobog. sure, you liked telling her the children's stories you've read from natasha's bookshelves, and accompanying her around as her personal bodyguard while she looked through scraps to find supplies for the vagrants.

but you feel like, even as clara tugs you by the sleeve, that stepping foot into the svarog's lair is a biiit too much.

your cold sweat and pale face as the large, rickety gates swing open for clara (and you) says all that needed to be said. your stiff body follows clara as she pulls you inside. "um, clara…" you start, your shaky voice betraying any kind of macho you try to summon. "i don't think this is a good idea… i'm from wildfire, you know? svarog and our relationship is a bit… y'know."

clara's a smart kid. of course she knows. but she looks up at you, as innocent and hopeful as she can be, and pleads with you. "it's okay!" she says. "i've told mr. svarog all about you before! in fact, he's the one who told me to invite you, just so he can properly thank you!"

"h-he did?!" is all you could yelp before she and her traffic light perkins whisked you away to their home.

a few moments later, you're face to face with the big bad robot himself, his lone red eye peering down at you seven foot above. you gulp, clenching onto clara's soft hand for support. "h-hello, sir svarog…" your voice cracks. "nice to meet you…?"

"my data says that meetings between parents and their children's educators are common between human life forms," his deep and rusty voicebank echoes throughout the room. "a parent-teacher conference, they call it."

you shrink further into your uniform. "um… i'm not really her teacher…" your voice is so small even you yourself can barely hear it.

"that is obvious," he states. "according to your data, you lack the qualifications for being a professional educator. nevertheless, you've taught clara a great many things. she is… happy, whenever she talks about you. i hope you continue to spend time with her."

"i told you!" clara leaps up with joy and clings to your arm. her smile is so great that it gives you a literal heartache as it squeezes from how cute she is. "mr. svarog likes you!"

you swear svarog's eye glints, and you double swear his gaze is directed at the red bandanna wrapped around your arm. you'd give him the staredown too, if you were brave enough, that is. after all, what kind of robot needed pants anyway?

that robot needed pants because he needed to hide the luggage he was packing underneath. because if he had that out in the open, you swear any of your cowardice would have evaporated and you'd climb that big hunk of metal like a tree just to get that branch inside of you.

AHEM! what you meant to say was… oh, whatever, no use saving the very little dignity you have left. 

the first time you drool over him is when he protects you from the cold. it was a wildfire expedition gone wrong and you underestimated a rogue robot, and the vagrant camp was so unfriendly without clara around. frostbite made you delirious, so any sort of fear vanished when you yelled through the rusty gates for some sort of savior.

only when the world begins to go dark do you feel a giant metal hand cup your back, and your feet swing in the air. when you finally come to, it's by the crackling fireplace. the world is still blurry when you sit up and see svarog’s hulking body looming over you. in other circumstances, you might have run away as soon as you can, but the near frostbite has made you delirious, and… well, svarog’s looking too sexy for a piece of scrap metal.

“ngh, ah ♡~” svarog’s one metal hand is large enough to encompass your whole lower body. he cups it as gently as a warforged robot can, and he bullies your throbbing clit with his finger while you’re left shaking under him. his red eye glints as he observes your expressions– drooling and eyes rolled back, a happy grin on your face as you rub back against his finger. “m– more~ more please!” his cupped hand bounces you up and down, and you squeal in delight as it heightens the stimulations even further. 

“y– you can vibrate, right?” you gasp when svarog rubs your clit juuust right, and you pleadingly look up at him with tears in your eyes. “th– that makes sense… robots all– ngh! r-right there, please– vibrate, don’t they? jus’ comes with the machines ‘n all that, hehe~”

you’re quite the talkative one, aren’t you? svarog isn’t exactly used to this, given that all the architects and elites he served in the past were so quiet and distant while they used him. “what exactly are you insinuating, [your name]?”

“oh, come on!” you pout frustratedly. “v-vibrate for me, will ya? i need more! this isn’t cutting it for me anymore– a-aaH ♡ yes yesyesyesyesyes! right there, oh my gosh, right there!!”

his data tells him that you’re at the height of ecstasy as he watches you arch your back and kick your feet. your fucked out laughs as you continue to beg for more is the sign that tells him that he’s doing a good job, and putting one and one together, he increases the vibration setting and you devolve into orgasmic screams.

“ah ♡ ah ♡! ahhh ♡♡ wh-what the fuck, svaroggg!!! ♡” the vibration on your poor, swollen clit is too much as he continues to rock you up and down while pressing the vibrating finger down. “i– i never told you to– ahh ♡– increase ittttt!”

“is this not necessary?” svarog questions. he’s so used to cold and unflinching ‘clients’ that he’s not exactly sure what to do with a human as expressive and loud as you. “records tell me that further simulation will bring you to what humans call an ‘orgasm.’”

“i’m, nggh, i’ve already orgasmed, you idiot!” you sob as you flail your legs, squirming and kicking as if that will loosen his grasp on you. “oh, ooooh~ t-too much!”

ah. so this is an orgasm. while this does not fit the algorithmic standards for the measurement of beauty, svarog surmises that this is ‘beautiful’ to him. it’s his reward for a job well-done, as all worthy leaders give to their soldiers. “apologies, [your name], but i fear that my past experiences have not given me sufficient data on what constitutes an ‘orgasm.’ clara adores you very much, and i do not wish to strain you at the expense of her anxiety. so, if you would allow it—”

something pushes at the tip of your hole, and you widen your eyes when you look and discover that he’s slowly bullying his way into you. you grip his metal arms for safety and stare at him with wide eyes.

“if all goes according to plan, you should have nothing to worry about.” you don’t know how to feel comforted when he says it in that apathetic-sounding (yet super hot) voice of his. “human orifices can be trained to take in objects larger than them– i should have you sitting on my… cock, as they call it, at the end of the day.”

[mmimagine-40]

Random Thoughts - Ass , Tits , Thighs

There are three kind of people. Ass guy , a tits guy and a thighs guy.

Steve is a tits guy. He loves his partners chest. No matter how small or how big. He loved them. Even if they are pecks any size he loves. Loving to touch , kiss, lick whatever it might be. He especially loved laying on the chest of his partner. Even if you think you have nothing for him to lay on he still wants to lay on them and finds the most joy in doing so.

If your a female and your wearing a low cut shirt that might show off any kinds of chevage , he is not paying attention. At all. His eyes and mind are only focused on one thing.

"Steve!" Y/n snapped as she was trying to get his attention as she was trying to talk to him about a case. He kept humming like he agreed but he wasn't listening as he stared at her chest. Till she finally pulled her shirt up to hide her cleavages. Making his finally focus on what she's saying.

If your a guy and your working out without a shirt. Steve is off to the side drooling. Just watching the pecks move and flex as you work out.

"Steve?!" Y/n called out as he was bench pressing and Steve was suppose to be spotting him. But Steve seemed out of it as he stared down at Y/n's chest. As he was shirtless. But now he was struggling to push the bar up as he added more weight and needed Steve's help. "Steve!" Y/n yelled as he finally got Steve to snap out of it and help. "I'm wearing a shirt from now on when I work out with you". Y/n said groaning as he sat up. Which Steve pouted at.

Bucky is an Ass man. Like Steve he doesn't care what size of ass. If it was more muscled or round or even a bit floppy. He doesn't care. He just likes them. He loved to have his hand on his partners ass at almost all times. And as his partner you better be prepared for him to slap your ass all the time. He also loved to lay on his partners ass as they lay on their stomach. Although be careful cause he will bit your ass. Even try to leave his teeth marks on your ass.

If your a female good luck getting around to anything if you wear leggings. He will be on you and not leaving you alone the whole day. having you pressed against his front or even having his hand on your ass.

This can be for a guy too if your a guy to wear leggings. But more for a guy he loves watching his boyfriend walk around in his boxer. Those like tight athletic feeling ones. The ones that are almost tight against the skin and end a little below the fold of the ass.

female or male if your doing any kind of squats in front of him, good luck! Cause he is going to be pressed up against you.

"Bucky!" Y/n groaned. As they were trying to do some weighted squats. Bucky agreed to spot , which they knew better then to agree to. But there they were now they were getting ready to pick up the bar but Bucky wouldn't step back. Finally he steps back letting them do the squats. But as soon as Y/n reracks the bar even if its just to take a small break in between sets. Bucky steps back up against them again.

Sam is a Thighs guy. Like the other two , does NOT care what size they are. He is going to be touching up on them, kissing them and so on. Your inner thighs will always be covered in bit marks and hickies. He also loves to lay and sleep on your lap. They are his nap spot. On Sundays he loves to take a nap right on your thighs. He does not care if you are doing something he will pull you away to sit on the couch as he lays his head on your thighs to go to sleep.

If your a male or female if you put on those like thigh high socks and you pull them up and some of your thighs is spilling up over the socks, he's losing it. Kneeling to you and acting like a dog for you.

There is also no way you can sit that won't have him going crazy. Have your legs cross and your thighs squish together he's going crazy. Especially if your a male and you sit in that male way of leaning back with your legs spread. He's on his knees with a nose bleed.

He once paid Bucky to dare you to crush a watermelon between your legs. Even if you can't crush the watermelon, Sam is drooling. Just watching as your thighs wrap around the watermelon and flex squeezing the watermelon. It seconds he's pulling you away from the watermelon and to his room to ask you to squeeze his head like you did that watermelon.

That's it Just my thoughts on the guys!-MM

[mrabubu]

Heya! Ignore this if this is rude, sorry to just dump my opinions in your ask box like this!

About the Leosagi thing, it has a bit of a history in the tmnt fandom, that’s why it’s so popular now with the rise one. I’m not as knowledgeable as some older fans, but the Usagi comic book series and tmnt have been intertwined for a pretty long time. Crossovers and things have been happening almost every iteration, aside from rise. Each crossover tended to focus heavily on the friendship between Usagi and Leo, leading to a big chunk of the fandom shipping them in a bunch of the iterations.

The Usagi chronicles is widely regarded as a middle of the road show. It’s not amazing but it’s great to see the Usagi comic books get a show of their own! (in a, weird, several generations down the line way) The fact that it was released around the same time as rise, and that rise never got to have a Usagi crossover like most of the iterations before it, lead fans into taking the crossover into their own hands. It was tradition at that point, and those leading the charge happened to be the same ones who shipped Leosagi before rise, in 2003 and the like.

Leo being gay or trans has been a popular headcannon for a long time, probably because of the extremely queer fandom. Either way Leo in rise being more flamboyant than any Leo before him reinforced this I suppose. As someone who doesn’t mind the Leosagi ship (and is queer themself), I don’t think just because a guy is flamboyant or confident they’re gay. That’s a pretty small minded take and assuming that a guy can’t be flamboyant in any way without being “outside the norm” is a tale as old as time. But knowing this you can still have fun with flamboyant gay characters. I think some people can find comfort in head-cannoning a character as a confident, charismatic gay man!

But, aside from all of this, everyone should be allowed to do whatever they want with characters forever. People should not feel offended if anyone portrays a character as straight or gay, canon is fandoms personal playground and it doesn’t matter at the end of the day. I think your Y/N stuff is awesome and you should keep doing whatever you find joy in, because that’s what fandom is about. Try not to get too offended at the Leosagi shippers, tmnt has had this tradition long before rise, and it’s just the fandoms history moving forward with the newest iterations. Let the gay people go wild, doesn’t matter who they ship who with, if people are having fun and making art together.

I hope you don’t have to receive any kind of hate for the ship you prefer, you aren’t morally obligated to like anything, and this is your blog, you choose what happens here.

YOU are NOT being rude, anon, don't worry xd

Just in case, yeah, I know about history between TMNT and Usagi, and I know they had crossovers many times.

Again, I have no problems with people who enjoy their headcanons by themselves and don't touch anyone with it. You don't touch me, I don't touch you, simple as that. I'm not a fan of both these headcanons, so I just either keep scrolling or filter/hide them. I don't try to make people stop enjoying something they like because I have no right to do so.

About Leo, there was already a comment that I agree with, and I hope they don't mind if I quote them here:

"There's a difference between being flamboyant and being gay. Being flamboyant does not make you or someone gay. This is a common stereotype that can be harmful to the LGBTQ+ community. Being flamboyant is a way some people express themselves and their identity and trust me, it does not determine their sexual orientation or gender identity."

I have a little personal history with thing that is different, but has the same core, because I'm half-blood. One of my parents was from another country, and because of that some of my actions and personality have been judged based on my ethnicity.

Again, you headcanon Leo as gay? Okay, just please, don't try to make people believe it's canon. Because I've seen cases like this, and there's a whole video where a person basically says that Leo is gay and if you don't agree, "heck, you're wrong! And the fact that you don't agree only proves that it's canon" and a bunch of other "proves" that mostly made out of thin air. Like, wth...? Who gave you right to say something like that? You're not the creator of the show. And because of people like this there are a bunch of those who actually believe this headcanon to be canon.

For me it turns into a problem when people are crossing the line and start shoving their headcanons into your face, trying to prove/make you believe that it's canon, and simply being rude if you don't agree or just say that you don't like it. If a person didn't do anything to you personally, who said you have the right to being rude to them or even harass them?

If this behavior crosses the line of my interests, why do they have the right to be offended by my disagreement, but I have to ignore them if it hurts me?

Not to mention how bad I feel for RIse creators who are still being constantly pressured by people with all this which is NOT okay and shouldn't be okay.

Just in case, all this isn't directed personally to you, anon. I'm sorry for so much text again xd

[voxmortuus]

#6 ☆ { licking } their neck to make them gasp with James Frey?

⇘ PAIRING:⇙ James Frey x F!Reader ⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ A Million Little Pieces ⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 652 ⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ Angst (Arguing couple) | Foul Language | Heavy Petting | Makeup Smut Implied | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ⇘ NOTES:⇙ Sorry if this is total ass... but I hope this brings you some joy. Prompt from this list. ⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa ⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ @konront ⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙ ⇘ My Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist ⇙

It had been a crazy night, between the arguing, and the slamming of doors. It wasn't a night you'd want to remember. But what relationship doesn't have issues? Fuck all knows yours does, it always does. No matter how hard you try you always feel like your relationships are falling apart, but there's always one thing you can count on with James, it's that he's loyal to you, he's devoted to you, and he truly loves you. Sometimes misunderstandings happen, and sometimes you're the cause for them just as much as he is.

Sitting on the couch you look up to see him coming your way. You're still a little perturbed, crossing your arms you look over the length of him. He takes a seat on the couch and you scoot over a bit scoffing. His jaw clenches and he looks at you.

"This is ridiculous. Do you really need to carry this on any longer?"

"Well if you weren't such an asshole it wouldn't be a problem." you snap back.

"I'm the asshole? You're the one that couldn't understand basic haha funny bullshit. You took it personally." he stated.

"Yeah, I did! You know how I feel about that! And you kept going." you stated

"I did not keep going. And besides, I apologized." he defended.

"You apologized?! You think an apology is going to fix my feelings?! Fuck you!" you snap back. You're angry, you feel it bubbling,

"Fuck me?! Fine! FUCK ME!" He stood up pacing shaking his head. "You're acting like I intentionally came out and decided today was the day I was going to make fun of you! Instead pull the stick out of your ass and realize the damn joke in all of this!"

Standing up you walk to him, looking over his face. Your eyes well with tears and you shake your head. Shoving past him you walk toward the kitchen, getting a glass of water, you place your hands flat on the counter, drop your head and sigh softly. Maybe he was right. Maybe you did take that joke a little too personally. You didn't mean to, and he knew that.

"Shit..." you mutter to yourself.

Walking up behind you, he places his arms at either side of yours, leaning in he kisses the top of your head, and moves his way to your neck. His hands snake around, pulling you close as he presses himself against you. His hands slide down your tummy as one slips into your pants, the other slips under your shirt, your jaw clenches as he grips at you. You close your eyes, letting out a heavy breath.

He doesn't speak, nor do you. Maybe it was one of those moments where you didn't need to speak. His hands move over your flesh, feeling this hot feeling pulse through you. Biting your lip you rest the back of your head against his shoulder as he grips at you, feeling his hand slip a little further south as the other hand grips your breast tighter.

A soft whimper escapes you as he presses himself against you. His fingers find that swollen sensitive nub between your legs and he begins working you. Feeling this moment between you two, absolutely no words uttered. His lips graze your neck, and suddenly you feel his tongue slide along your neck, from the crook of your shoulder to right behind your ear. You gasp, and you moan softly.

His fingers and hands work you as you reach behind you and begin to rub over his pants. He groans. He turns you to look at him and plops you on the countertop, you go to speak, go to apologize, but instead he looks at you and kisses you deeply, he knows your sorry.

"I want to taste you..." He smirks as he lowers himself kneeling in front of the counter as he strips off your pants.

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

Damian has been in the family for a while he has made his peace with Drake understood that no matter what he has a place but he still can't understand the dynamics. Maybe it isn't exactly the most intelligent choice to track down Todd and ask but he figured it was the best option.

Sitting on Todd's couch in the middle of crime alley eating a dish he can only vaguely remember his mother making he isn't exactly regretting it yet.

"So let me get this straight bat brat, you don't get how people work so you came to me?" Todd's confusion isn't exactly surprising but it is unhelpful to his plight.

"No I understand people, well when I have to I do not understand the bats." He at the moment can't bring himself to actually act with the dignity his mother expects of him another way Gotham had corrupted him.

-

Jason can't say he expected to feed and be interrogated by the demon brat he just wanted to relax but this isn't exactly a surprise now that the kid has chilled out he was almost waiting for it.

"You want me to give you a cheat sheet to how our family actually works becusse you are now realizing that Talia didn't understand shit and it fucked you?"

He can't keep the pure joy out of his voice knowing that he is actually gonna get to knock the kid down a peg after today.

"Not in those words Todd but I understand you have a perspective that I may lack."

God demon looks pissed below the joy he understand that this is actually important and he needs to explain this well knowing this could make or break the already pretty fucked up kid.

"Alright listen and don't fucking interrupt me save your questions and bitchness for the end do I make myself clear."

Holding the kids eyes he sees the kid is actually paying attention as he nods maybe Dickie really did find out the secrets housebreaking who knows.

"Ok let's start with me and I'm gonna be sappy for ten seconds and if you ever repeat this I will shoot you and put you in another duffle bag ok, ok good. I'm your brother I love you would kill for you that whole bullshit. I'm also Dick's, and Tim's brother, on days I don't want to kill the old man I'm his son."

God he's gonna need a smoke after this bullshit fuck he sees the kid is nodding good he hasn't lost him.

"Now Dick is my older brother he's not yours you can lie to yourself all you fucking want but he's your dad teaching you how to be a real boy and all that shit."

He sees an embarrassed flush and the start of protests but he's not dealing with it that bullshit the kid can work on in his own time.

" You wanted it your gonna fucking hear it, now Tim-Tam the sleep deprived idiot is a bit more complicated."

He takes a breath trying to put into words what he wants to say.

"Why is Drake complicated wouldn't he be somewhat easy" the confusion isn't a good sign maybe it is better the kid came so he can restrain him if he has too.

"Tim is the best of us alright, he's someone I want to protect I love him truly even if he's an annoying little shit. Now listen Tim is a lot like you when it comes to Dick crossing the line between Dad and Brother. Tim will always side with Dick that's his Robin and Tim is Dick's. You can't be a jealous little shit here because I don't even fully understand them."

"Bruce isn't Tim"s dad at least on his end Dick is, Bruce loves Tim but no one can ever replace Dickie just like you which is honestly half the reason you hated the kid."

-

Damian is now regretting this conversation he thought this would be simple once again he has somewhat lost his mind since coming to Gotham.

Yet he knows Todd's right that the way Grayson looks at Drake is the same look he gets and the same part of him who loves his animals and loves Richard feels guilty because he knew. He just didn't want to admit it.

"Why I don't understand why is Timothy so different to any of us even you, both of us tried to kill him yet he seems to matter so much"

frustration is leaking through but this is what he wanted to know why Drake is so important even to him why, what is so special about him.

Todd is hesitating but slowly steeling himself Damian cant help but to copy him knowing whatever comes out isn't gonna be easy it's gonna hurt but he asked didn't he.

"Tim was the first, the one to really unlock Dick not being well a dick he knows parts of all of us, secretswhatever, the shit that matters. Bruce, Dick, me even you, we don't run shit ok Wayne Entetprises, plans Tim does. Dick and Tim are the glue holding us together without them we would be fucked you know that."

"That's what's so special about him everything we do Tim has a part of he's genuinely irreplaceable and it bothers the fuck out of both of us."

Damian can't breathe he just runs words he never wanted admitted are stabbing through his mind he doesn't stop until somehow he ends up in his bed at the manor he just hides pushing it down the real reason he tried to kill his brother the fact that he almost broke the family he just hides he shouldn't have asked.

Maybe Richard was right being naive was a gift and now he can't go back.

[ultimateissuessimp]

Hate to be that guy but a male x cat king soulmate au. Where you can’t see colour till u meet your soulmate. Pretty please with a cherry on top. Ty 🥺

"Hate to be that guy" and then proceeds to request one of my favourite tropes. My sweet, darling anon - THANK YOU! Writing this was a joy and a pleasure!

Also, not to say anything, buuuut I would be more than happy to write a part 2 for this 🤭 But I didn't say anything, completely nothing 🤫

Oel ngati kameie, Nga Yawne Lu Oer (I see you, I love you)

The Cat King x Male Reader

Word count: 1,935

Warnings: None I think

One case. One little case can change someone's life like nothing else could. Y/N didn't know if for the better or for worse, because now he was standing in front of the Cat King alongside his friends. Edwin, of course as stubborn as ever, simply had to disregard everything that Y/N had said about staying as low as possible and used a magic on an animal. A cat to be precise if it wasn't obvious already. That's how they found themselves in the situation they were at the moment.

His eyes were nervously going all around seeing all those cats gathered behind them. All of them in scales of gray that he was so used to when he was seeing it for the -nth time throughout his life. So basically all of it. After the little showcase of what they were capable of with their previous victim, he was on edge. Edwin was trying to diplomatically resolve the issue yet the Cat King didn't seem to really be happy with any of his words. When he mentioned a talk in private, Y/N head whipped up and for just a moment looked into the Cat King's eyes who turned his gaze towards the young man, because of his sudden movement before they went back to Edwin.

Then, as if suddenly someone hit the pause button on him, he froze. Colours slowly started filling his vision and at the centre of it was him. Edwin. He was sure he had found his soulmate. So many centuries alone. On his own. Now he finally found him, his other half. Or so he thought at least. While Thomas was marveling at the thought of finding his soulmate though in the wrong person, the right one quietly gasped in shock as his vision slowly filled with colours too.

The Cat King teleported both Edwin and himself to his private room, away from prying eyes and nosy personalities. Somewhere where he could get to know his "soulmate" better. What he was like, what he liked, disliked, what was his favourite colour, why did he use magic on a cat. About the last one... Now that he knew, thought, that Edwin was his "soulmate" he was less angry about the incident the ghost caused. He was more inclined on letting the man go, not really, without a punishment.

-Well, I was supposed to punish you for your... Misdeed, but since you're my soulmate- - the Cat King started speaking, a huge grin on his face as he got slightly closer to Edwin, his hands outstretched a bit to the sides before the man himself interrupted him.

-I'm sorry? Soulmate? Surely not. I can't be your soulmate, I've been looking at you for quite some time now and I still can't see colours. Just boring, but classy, gray - he said, looking incredulously at Thomas, putting some distance between them.

-What do you mean by that? Literally the moment I properly looked into your eyes the colours... They started to just appe- - and before he could end a sentence again, he was stopped. This time by the subject he was talking about suddenly disappearing. His world was bleak and boring again. He didn't understand and so didn't Y/N when he blinked and instead of seeing colours he was so fascinated by, yet quite displeased with the choice of clothing he made the previous morning, since none of the colours matched, at all, he saw the familiar scales of gray.

Feeling defeated, the Cat King sighed. Yet an idea struck him. Since he saw colours, even if for a short period of time, that means that his soulmate has to be either of Edwin's friends that he made eye contact with. He just needed some time and after all find a punishment for Edwin. He wasn't keen anymore on letting him off the hook and, even so, had more motivation to keep him in town. If Edwin can't leave, none of his friends can leave either. Then he could find his soulmate he so longed for. That's why he "caged" the ghost in town with a bracelet that only he could take off after Edwin counts all the cats in Port Townsend. Two birds with one stone. Teaching Edwin a lesson to never again use a magic on a cat and also finally meeting his soulmate. Life couldn't get more perfect. Well, it could, but that will come with time.

When he sent Edwin back to his friends and his soulmate, the Cat King silently observed the group from the shadows, silently telling a few of his cats to follow the detectives so he could monitor what they were doing, were they were and if they were in any trouble. After all, he couldn't let anything happen to his little lover. Who ever it was. Y/N was having an internal fight over what to do with the newfound information about his soulmate. He was so curious, yet had to remain cautious and careful when it came to the person that trapped his friend and in a way threatened him. He felt conflicted.

Then the case of the lighthouse came up. Strange, a bit terrifying, especially after Y/N started hearing the voice of the Cat King, calling to him. It was so irresistible yet thanks to the boys, Crystal and Niko, he came back to his senses and took a few steps away from the ledge. When Edwin silently tried to sneak away into the woods, he followed him, sneaking away just as silently as him.

He saw the cat that they were following an immediately understood, his heart skipping a few beats and making him stomp on a tree branch which in a chain reaction made Edwin snap his head towards him and the cat stop in its track. He smiled awkwardly and waved explaining that he was simply going on a little walk, but obviously Edwin didn't believe him.

-What don't you understand I will come back in a few minutes?? That was NOT an invitation to follow me! - Edwin whisper yelled at Y/N, a mostly annoyed look gracing his face before he turned around to follow the cat once again, making the man behind him stumble slightly when he tried to catch up quickly.

-Oh come on, you're being secretive, you're sneaking away and you're expecting that I WON'T follow you? Really Edwin? You're my friend. I'm worried - Y/N said, slightly out of breath, because of the jog he had to perform after the man in front of him.

-While appreciated, very much not needed. I'm fine - Edwin replied, looking back only for a second with a serious expression. They got to a clearing and saw no one other than the Cat King. Well, the man himself only saw Edwin at first, Y/N staying a bit back in nervousness.

Still no colours while looking at the ghost. Disappointing. Then the cat that dragged Edwin, and accidentally Y/N too, over to its king hissed and pawed at the leg of Y/N's pants, making him slightly flinch and take a step to the side, revealing himself completely to Thomas' eyes.

-Well look at what the cat dragged in! Aren't you a jewel - he said with a cocky grin, going around Edwin to stand before Y/N and taking his chin into his hand to take a better look at him. That's when their eyes met and the magic happened.

Instant reaction, colours bursting all around as they stared, wide eyed, at each other. There they were. "The most gorgeous of eyes" was the first thought that came to both of their minds. They completely forgot Edwin who was now staring in confusion at the scene before him, yet unsure if to interrupt or not.

-I see you - the Cat King said quietly, almost unlike himself at all, mentally adding "and I love you". He thought that if he said that out loud at that moment, he would scare away the poor guy. His hands cupped the sides of Y/N's face, holding it gently like the dearest of treasures he owned and in a way it was true. Although he didn't own Y/N nor his heart, not yet at least, the man himself definitely already owned Thomas'. Maybe without even knowing it.

-And I see you - Y/N replied, his breath caught in his throat as his wide eyes frantically looked around the Cat King's face, noticing every detail, every discolouration and adoring each and every shade that appeared in his eyes.

-Surely not-... Are you seeing colours, Y/N? - Edwin suddenly piped in, completely ruining the moment, but he couldn't blame him or be mad at him. He would be confused as all hell too if he saw his friend have a quite intimate moment with someone who made his life slightly more impossible to get through.

They turned to the ghost detective, a massive grin, like never before, on Thomas' face while a shy smile graced Y/N's. Obviously the Cat King, the man that he was, immediately wrapped his arm around his soulmates' shoulder, keeping him close to himself as if he was afraid the man would suddenly disappear like the colours did before he realised Edwin wasn't his soulmate. He never wants to feel what he felt at that moment again.

-Why, my ghostly friend. This adorable specimen over here is my soulmate - he said proudly, keeping close to Y/N yet not in a possessive way as if he was afraid Edwin would suddenly try to take him away for some reason, but more in a protective way. Physical, psychological, emotional, it didn't matter.

-Soulmate?? Surely you must be having a laugh! Right Y/N? You still can't see colours right? - Edwin asked, hands on his hips as he stood there, expecting only one possible option in his mind: a positive answer to his question. Yet he couldn't help the way his eyes widened and his mouth opened a little when he saw Y/N smile sheepishly at him and quickly look away. - We will talk about this later. There are 142 cats in Port Townsend. Now take this off - Edwin added, this time speaking to the Cat King which only rewarded him with a condescending chuckle.

-There are absolutely not 142 cats. Keep counting the cats, Edwin - Thomas said with a smile before swiftly turning himself and Y/N around so they could walk away and talk about their newfound relationship, completely leaving the ghost behind.

-This is absurd! How can this make you happy?! - Edwin shouted after the pair, but mostly the Cat King, annoyed out of his mind at the behaviour the man was presenting him with.

-Well, it keeps you in town, with you sweet Y/N over here and thanks to that I can get to know my soulmate better! - he answered with a cheeky smirk and a wink sent Edwin's wave, adding a little wave with his fingers while both of the men left, in a way abandoning him behind. You'd think Y/N would notice his friend staying back, huffing and puffing about being left alone, but he was so absorbed in looking around and taking in his surroundings, the colours that he payed half mind to where he was even going. At that moment all that mattered to him was the fact that he could finally notice the beauty of the world around him and it was all thanks to just one person. Destiny works in the most mysterious of ways.

[wasabidottie]

Walmart Blue 💙 (Jess Mariano)

You and your boyfriend, Jess, were enjoying a rare free day together. The sun was shining, and the town of Stars Hollow was bustling with activity. The two of you had decided to spend the day exploring, without any particular destination in mind. Just being together was enough to make you happy.

As you wandered through town, Jess couldn't help but sneak glances at you, admiring the way your eyes light up with every little discovery you made along the way. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have you in his life.

At one point, you found yourselves in a quaint little antique store, filled with all sorts of unique treasures. You were drawn to an old typewriter in the corner, your fingers gently grazing the keys.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" you said, eyes sparkling with fascination.

Jess nodded, a mischievous glint in his own eyes. "You really like it?"

You looked at him with a nod, wondering if he had something in mind. "Yeah, it's a work of art. But it's a bit pricey."

He just smiled mysteriously and continued exploring the shop with you, not revealing his plan just yet.

After you left the antique store, they stopped by Luke's for a quick lunch. Over burgers and fries, Jess could tell that you were a little curious about what was on his mind.

"Jess, you're acting all secretive," you teased, sipping your coffee. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

He gave you a sidelong look and decided it was the perfect time to surprise you. "You'll find out soon enough."

You continued your leisurely walk through town, visiting familiar spots and sharing stories about each others lives. Jess watched as you talked, unable to shake the feeling that he was the luckiest guy in the world.

As the day turned into evening, you found yourselves back at his and Luke's place. The atmosphere was cozy, and soft music played in the background. Jess cleared his throat nervously.

"Okay, close your eyes," he instructed.

You did as you were told, a mixture of excitement and curiosity washing over you. You felt Jess move around the room, and then heard him place something down.

"You can open them now."

You opened your eyes to see the vintage typewriter from the antique store, sitting on the coffee table. Your face lit up with pure joy, and you turned to Jess, eyes shimmering with gratitude.

"Jess, you didn't have to do this," you said, voice filled with appreciation.

He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "Just thought it would look good in your place."

"It's beautiful,," you said, admiring the necklace. "But how... how did you afford this?"

Jess hesitated for a moment, the words stumbling out almost reluctantly. "I... I got named Employee of the Month at Walmart. Got a little bonus, so I thought I'd get you something nice."

Your eyes widened in pleasant shock. "Jess, that's incredible! I'm so proud of you!"

He shrugged, trying to downplay the achievement. "It's no big deal."

But the pride in your eyes, the admiration and the affection you showered on him for his achievement, made a warmth bloom in his chest. He had never received such genuine compliments, especially from someone so important to him.

As the evening progressed, the sun eventually dipped below the horizon. You found yourselves entwined in a comfortable makeout session, the love and affection between the two of you manifesting in tender, passionate moments. You were sitting in his lap, feeling a sense of contentment and happiness.

You suddenly pulled away, a grin stretching across your face. Jess looked at you, slightly puzzled. "What are you grinning about?"

You chuckled, looking down at him. "I was just picturing you in that blue Walmart vest."

He groaned, rolling his eyes. "Oh, come on. Don't ruin the moment."

But underneath his playful protests, there was a faint smile dancing on his lips. He wasn't used to being at the receiving end of affection, especially the lighthearted teasing that felt so incredibly heartwarming and intimate coming from you.

The evening continued with laughter and a deeper sense of connection, each moment reminding Jess of the happiness and contentment he had found in your company. It wasn't just the gifts or the compliments that meant so much to him; it was the genuine care and love you showed him, filling a void he hadn't realized existed in his life. And that night, as he walked you back home, hand in hand, he couldn't help but feel incredibly lucky to have found someone who brought so much light into his world.

[sadly-in-active]

Hello can I request Golden Cheese Cookie x reader who is obsessed with silver (like Golden Cheese with gold) who has a rivals to friends to lovers relationship and if it's possible can it be both headcanon and oneshot if not I'm good with one or the other.

Golden Cheese Cookie x Silver-Obsessed Reader

Summary: You are a wanderer that travels between all the Kingdoms in Earthbread, selling and obtaining silver items. Some have nicknamed you the Silver Seller, others just preferred to keep you nameless. Once in the Golden Cheese Kingdom…it seems you stayed a bit longer then you were supposed to. Why? Well, because you were looking for the silver!

Where was it?

Where did it all go?

TW: None

You were face to face with the ruler of the Golden Cheese Kingdom. She didn’t look too pleased at your efforts to try and sneak in to her gleaming palace, yet she kept a smirk on her face despite her annoyance. After all, it would be unwise to send you off without knowing the reason why you were breaking and entering!

For a brief moment, she pondered how you even managed to get past Burnt Cheese Cookie at the gates…but she had to deal with the situation at hand, like the good queen she was.

“Well then, I’d like you to state your business of wandering around my palace and trying to enter it. Were you trying to steal my gold, little silver-eyes?”

You didn’t say anything, only shaking your head in disgust at the fact of stealing her gold. Why would you? It looked so…yellow.

“Ah! So we have someone who looks disgusted at the mere thought of gold? How silly. If you wish to obtain any other boring metals, I’d suggest leaving and never coming back! Or maybe, you could learn from your foolishness and stay for a while. Wouldn’t that be a proper punishment for you?”

Wait a minute, she was planning on imprisoning you here? That wasn't part of the deal. This wasn't what you signed up for. All you wanted was to find the silver in this golden kingdom, not to be imprisoned with all this gold.

—

And for the next…well, you didn’t know how much time passed. You were forced to stay in Golden Cheese’s palace as her personal attendant, forced to put on her lavish golden jewelry and work for her. She honestly just wanted to keep an eye on you.

Yet…you didn’t complain. Well, didn’t complain often. You certainly spoke your mind when it came to the gold, and she merely scoffed and put it on you anyways. She even said that you looked better without some dusty old cloak and your silver bracelets.

Sooner or later, you got used to it, hell, you actually kind of liked serving the Golden Sovereign. It wasn’t that bad, all you had to do was keep her company and do some tasks she wanted you to do. It became your routine, and a good routine at that. Some days, she even allowed you to go to the Colosseum and watch the monsters fight.

With a Marzipan Cookie watching you, of course.

The Sovereign liked talking with you, hearing about your travels and what you liked. It was refreshing talking to someone without them bowing and worshipping you all of the time, barely having a normal conversation.

On a special day, she even made you some silver jewelry. She wasn’t used to making stuff that wasn’t gold, but she tried her best.

Seeing your happy smile as you put on a shiny silver necklace and anklets was…making her feel happy too. Not even her piles and piles of gold compared to your look of joy. She liked watching you smile, believe it or not.

(I DON’T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO HELP-)

[crimxonwrites]

Blood-painted kisses | Aemond Targaryen x female!OC | Chapter 8 ❝of Dragons and Despair❞

☽➛ Summary: Nothing satietes Maehrys Velaryon's hunger as well as revenge. Growing up at the Red Keep as the bastard of Rhaenyra Targaryen did not come trouble-free. Her childhood consisted of bitter words and repulsive looks from nearly everybody in the castle. As she grew older, Maehrys grew meaner. Once the Velaryons return to King's Landing to defend Luke's claim as Lord of Driftmark, Maehrys decides that it is time for the people who hurt her in the past to pay.

☽➛ Warnings: swearing, bullying, mentions of blood, overall 18+!!!!

☽➛ Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x female!OC ( enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers again?? romance is a subplot)

Masterlist

The next day, under a sky that feels heavy with sorrow, I make my way outside the castle walls, ready to face Cannibal. The thought of the fierce dragon I must learn to command fills me with both fear and determination. My steps are steady, but deep down, I’m nervous. I heard he ate one of the Dragonkeepers who tried to help saddle him. Honestly, I'm a bit relieved to know he doesn't only feast on dragons.

As I near the training grounds, a loud roar cuts through the air, echoing across the castle. I look up quickly, my heart skipping a beat as I see Vermax soaring through the sky, his pale green scales shining in the sunlight. A wave of joy washes over me, pushing away some of the sadness I’ve been carrying. Seeing my older brother’s dragon after so many days apart brings a smile to my face.

Without thinking, I start running, my feet moving faster as I head towards the dragon. “Jace!” I shout, my voice full of relief and excitement.

Vermax lands gracefully, and Jace climbs down from his back with ease. But just as I’m about to run into his arms, I suddenly stop, my legs freezing in place. My heart aches as I look at him—something about his face makes me pause. In Jace’s eyes, his nose, his lips, his hair—I see Luke. Memories of my little brother flood my mind, mixing with the painful reality that he’s gone. It’s like I’m looking at an older version of Luke, a version he will never get to be. The thought hits me hard, like a sharp pain in my chest.

Jace steps forward, his face full of concern. When he hugs me, it’s gentle, more tender than any hug he’s ever given me before. As his arms wrap around me, I feel all the emotions I’ve been holding back come rushing out. I cling to him tightly, and tears start streaming down my cheeks. I can’t stop crying as I hold onto him, feeling the deep pain of our loss.

Jace holds me close, his hand gently smoothing down my hair. “I’m here now,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here, Rys.”

When Jace finally lets go, I look up at him and see tears in his eyes too. There’s a softness in his gaze that I don’t see often, reflecting the same grief I feel.

“I should have been here,” Jace says, his voice rough with regret. “I should have been here for you, for all of us.”

I shake my head, running my fingers through his dark curls, the same as Luke’s once were. “I should have found a dragon sooner,” I say, my voice trembling with the same regret. We both feel the weight of what we could have done differently, the guilt that haunts us.

For a moment, we just stand there, two siblings bound by loss, trying to find comfort in each other. The world seems to pause around us, and in that quiet, the depth of our grief settles in—a reminder that the wounds from this war are more than just physical. Our shared sadness hangs in the air between us, heavy and unspoken, but the moment is interrupted by the powerful sound of wings flapping overhead. Cannibal is nearby, a reminder of the harsh reality we’re facing.

“Ah!” Jace exclaims, wiping a tear from his eye. “He is quite the beast.”

Vermax screeches, and Cannibal puffs hot air from his nostrils, the heat almost palpable even from where we stand. On Cannibal’s back, I spot a massive brown leather saddle, big enough to fit at least three people, secured with thick straps that seem to strain under the dragon's sheer size.

“How? I thought the Cannibal was only a myth,” Jace says, his voice tinged with both awe and disbelief as Vermax flies off towards the dragon pit.

“My eggs hatched the night Luke died,” I begin, my voice flat, devoid of the emotion I wish I could keep buried. “Cannibal was hungry, so I fed him.”

Jace raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “At last, a dragon that matches your temper,” he teases, his joke lightening the atmosphere just a little. “Does he even fit in the dragon pit?” he asks.

“I am not going to keep my dragon in a pit,” I reply, my tone sharper than intended, the mere idea of confining Cannibal somehow offending me. “Mother said you would help me with my combat dragon training,” I add, trying to change the subject.

Jace’s weak smile quickly fades off. “Oh, Vermax is tired. It’s a long way from Winterfell.” He rubs the back of his neck, and I give him a sympathetic smile, understanding the exhaustion he must feel.

“Tomorrow it is, then,” I tell him, nodding as I watch him head towards the castle.

As I stand there, Cannibal’s heavy footsteps draw my attention. He moves with an unsettling grace for a creature of his size, each step causing the ground to tremble slightly beneath his weight. His dark scales are as black as the deepest night, with a sheen that catches the light, making them look almost wet. His eyes, a piercing green, glint with intelligence and a wild, untameable spirit. His mouth, lined with jagged teeth capable of rending steel, emits a low growl, a sound that reverberates in my chest.

Cannibal lowers his massive shoulder, his powerful muscles rippling beneath his scales, and I know this is a sign. My training is about to begin. I pull on my leather gloves, their well-worn surfaces providing a familiar comfort, and I approach him. With far more ease than the first time, I begin to climb his wing, my hands finding the now-familiar grooves and ridges of his scales. I’ve developed a strategy, one that no longer leaves me scrambling awkwardly to mount him. I make my way up, feeling the strength and power beneath me as I settle into the saddle.

As I secure myself, I take a deep breath, steadying my nerves. Cannibal lets out another puff of hot air, his nostrils flaring as if in anticipation.

Cannibal takes off with a powerful surge, and I brace myself for the sheer speed as he ascends into the skies. The force of the wind presses against me, but this time I am ready. Grateful for the new saddle, I grip it tightly, feeling its sturdy leather under my fingers. Unlike before, I do not close my eyes. Instead, I force them open and take in the scenery around me, determined to experience every moment.

The sky above is a vast, endless blue, unmarred by a single cloud. It stretches out in every direction, a perfect canvas that contrasts sharply with the dark, jagged cliffs of Dragonstone below. As we climb higher, the island shrinks beneath us, its volcanic peaks and ancient fortress becoming mere details in a grander view. The sea surrounding Dragonstone glimmers like molten silver, with waves crashing against the rocky shore, sending sprays of white foam into the air. The winding paths and the dragon is now just a tiny dot, barely visible from our height. I can see the black stone walls of the castle, standing tall and proud, a stark reminder of our family’s history and power. The surrounding forests are dark and thick, covering the island like a green blanket, with hidden paths leading to secret caves and coves known only to a few.

As Dragonstone becomes smaller and smaller beneath us, swallowed by the vastness of the sky, I send a silent prayer to the Gods, hoping Cannibal won’t take me to King’s Landing once again. The memory of our last unsanctioned flight there still sends a chill down my spine.

Suddenly, Aemond’s written words flash before my eyes, dragging me back to memories I’d rather forget. His letter, laced with bitter passion, have haunted my thoughts ever since I read it. But just as the weight of his words begins to settle on my chest, Cannibal jolts me back to the present with a sudden, violent swerve in the air.

‘It enrages me, this pull I feel toward you, this vile attraction that defies all reason.’

Cannibal’s movements are wild and untamed, mirroring the storm that brews within me. He tilts violently to one side, then the other, as if he’s trying to throw me off—or perhaps, to see if I’m truly worthy of being his rider. The sheer force of his turns nearly unseats me, and I must fight to stay balanced. The wind whips fiercely against my face, stinging my eyes and stealing my breath, but I grit my teeth and hold on.

‘You haunt me like a curse.’

The words echo through my mind, their venomous tone tightening around my heart like a vice. Cannibal senses my inner turmoil and responds with a sudden, gut-wrenching dive. We plummet toward the earth, the ground rushing up to meet us with terrifying speed. My stomach lurches, and for a moment, I feel as though I’m falling into an abyss.

“Keligon!” Stop! I command, desperate. But just as panic threatens to take hold, Cannibal pulls up sharply, launching us into a steep climb that makes my blood roar in my ears. My pulse races, the adrenaline surging through me like fire. I refuse to give in—to the fear, to Cannibal’s challenge, or to the dark pull of Aemond’s words.

I tighten my grip on the saddle, feeling the leather dig into my hands, grounding me in the chaos. Leaning into Cannibal’s savage manoeuvres, I sense every ripple of his powerful muscles beneath me as he twists and turns, testing my every move.

‘You’ve left your mark on me, and I despise you for it as much as I despise myself.’

Anger flares within me at his audacity, and I feel a burning need to prove him wrong. Cannibal’s wings beat with relentless force, cutting through the sky as he pushes us both to the brink. Without warning, he banks sharply to the left, forcing me to react with lightning speed to stay upright. I adjust my weight just in time, but Cannibal isn’t finished testing me. He rolls suddenly, flipping us upside down in a dizzying manoeuvre that makes the world spin around us. The sky and earth blur together in a whirlwind of colour and motion, and for a heartbeat, I lose all sense of direction. My breath catches in my throat, fear clawing at the edges of my mind, but I refuse to let it take hold.

‘Yours in ways I cannot fully understand.’

The words cut deep, but I reject them with every fibre of my being. He is not mine, and I am not his. I will not be bound by a man’s torment, no matter how deeply he claims to feel it.

Cannibal’s challenge is relentless, his intelligence sharp and calculating as he pushes me to my limits. He twists in the air, diving and climbing with a ferocity that tests my strength, my courage, and my connection to him. The more he challenges me, the more determined I become to prove myself—to show him that I am not just a passenger on his back, but his equal.

“Dohaeragon.” Serve. I say, my tone growing more confident. We begin to move as one, our wills aligning with each twist and turn.

A gut-wrenching thought cuts through my heart: Aemond is painfully beautiful. His long, silver-blonde hair cascades down his back, catching the light of the sun like strands of spun gold. His face, chiseled and sharp, holds an austere elegance, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline that betrays the warrior within. But it is his eye—his single, piercing blue eye—that commands the most attention. It gleams with a cold, calculating intelligence, a stark contrast to the black patch that covers the void where his other eye once was. That patch, a reminder of his brutal past, only adds to the air of danger that surrounds him, making him all the more irresistible, like a storm you cannot help but be drawn to, even as you know it will destroy you.

As much as my mind fights to push him away, trying to erase his image from my thoughts, my soul refuses to let go of its longing for him. I remember all the harshness he has shown me over the years, each touch he's given me—rough and unkind, yet never truly enough to drive me away. Every cruel word he’s spoken, bitter and venomous, but never quite poison enough to kill the lingering hope.

As these thoughts overwhelm me, Cannibal begins his descent toward Dragonstone. The sudden drop in altitude brings me back to the present, but I am as shaken by my realization as I am by the wild flight. The wind whips around me, and I cling to the saddle, my heart still racing—not just from the ride, but from the unsettling truth that no matter how much I try to deny it, a part of me still yearns for Aemond. The conflicting emotions churn within me, making it impossible to tell where my desire ends, and my hatred begins.

And as Cannibal lands with a mighty thud, the ground rushing up to meet us, I realize that this inner turmoil is far more dangerous than any flight through the skies.

When I dismount Cannibal, the reality of our fractured family crashes down on me like a tidal wave. Today is Luke’s funeral. The reminder of this cruel truth pulls me back from the chaos of the skies, and relief washes over me—relief that I didn’t lose myself up there, that I didn’t get lost in the fury of the wind and the cold embrace of the clouds. But there’s no time to dwell on this small mercy. I rush to my chambers, desperate to cleanse myself of the scent of dragon, the smell of salt and scales that clings to me like a second skin.

The water is cold as I scrub away the remnants of the flight, trying to erase the memories that haunt me with every breath. Without Alisha to assist, dressing for the funeral becomes an agonizing task. My hands tremble as I fumble with the dark fabric, struggling to tie the laces, button the clasps. Each failed attempt feels like another wound reopening, but after several painful moments, I manage to pull the black gown over my shoulders, my fingers stiff and aching from the effort.

When I finally arrive at the funeral grounds, I am struck by the sight before me. The funeral pyre is a solemn, heart-wrenching display. Arrax’s once magnificent blue wing, now torn and tattered, rests atop the hay, a haunting reminder of the bond Luke shared with his dragon. But it is Luke’s coat, drenched in blood and shredded by the violence of his death, that truly shatters me. The sight of it, lying there so still, so final, makes the truth of his loss undeniable. My heart breaks anew, the pain searing through me like a hot blade.

Desperate and vulnerable, I scan the faces of my family, hoping for some anchor to steady me in this storm of grief. When my eyes meet theirs, I see the same sorrow reflected back at me, a mirror of my own despair. The grief is a shared burden, but it is no less heavy for being so. And in that moment, I can no longer hold back the flood of tears. I let them fall, let them run freely down my cheeks as I stand there, surrounded by my family, each of us united in our sorrow, each of us mourning not just for Luke, but for all that we have lost.

I’ve attended funerals before; my aunt, Laena, my father, Laenor, Ser Harwin, my stillborn sister, Visenya, but none of them pierce my heart like this one.

I take my place beside Jace and my mother, our bodies forming a silent line of mourning. The flickering light of the funeral pyre casts long shadows over our faces, distorting the grief etched into every crease, every furrowed brow. As the flames take hold, a small, unexpected weight lifts from my shoulders, as if some of the burden I've been carrying is being consumed by the fire. I let the warmth of the flames wash over me, a temporary balm to the raw ache in my chest. For a brief moment, I allow myself to release the grief that has suffocated me for days, surrendering it to the fire’s embrace.

But as the heat engulfs me, another emotion creeps in, one far more insidious than grief. Shame. It wraps around my heart like a serpent, tightening with every beat. Shame for the thoughts I can't banish, for the memory of Aemond that clings to my mind like a stubborn shadow. How dare I think of him now, at my brother’s funeral? How dare I let his image invade this sacred moment? I stare into the flames, willing the fire to burn away the shame, to cleanse me of these unwanted thoughts. I tell myself I can hate myself later—there will be time for that when this is all over.

But then I feel my mother's hand, warm and trembling, slip into mine. She squeezes hard, and the strength of her grip sends a jolt through me. It’s as if she’s holding on not just to me, but to her sanity, to the fragile threads of our fractured family. Her touch speaks of a bond forged in trauma, in the shared agony of loss that has bound us tighter than ever before. We are linked by the ghosts of those we’ve loved and lost, by the wounds that will never fully heal. Her grip is a silent plea for strength, a reminder that we are all we have left.

I will kill Aemond. I will avenge my brother.

In that moment, the fire becomes more than just a pyre for Luke. It becomes a symbol of our shared pain, a testament to the family we were, and the family we’ve become. As I feel her hand holding mine, I realize that this is what it means to survive—to hold on to each other when everything else is falling apart. I tighten my grip in response, pouring every ounce of my love and determination into that simple gesture. We will endure, even if it means carrying the weight of our grief and our shame together. And as the flames continue to rise, I let that thought be my anchor, pushing aside everything else.

For now, I will focus on this moment, on the warmth of my mother’s hand in mine, on the fire that burns away the past. The war in my heart will have to wait.

When the funeral concludes, I find myself seated at my mother’s vacant council table with my sisters, Rhaena and Baela. The three of us, draped in somber attire, lose ourselves in an endless procession of red wine, its rich, dark hue matching the melancholy that fills the room. Rhaena and Baela reminisce about Luke, sharing fond memories of the boy they both adored. Their voices are tinged with nostalgia, each story a painful reminder of what we have lost. I remain silent, the heavy knot in my throat making it impossible to speak, and I refuse to let tears escape. Instead, I immerse myself in the wine, drinking to dull the ache that lingers just beneath the surface.

My mind is a tumultuous storm of conflicting emotions. Aemond’s image invades my thoughts, his face as captivating as it is tormenting. His long, silver-blonde hair glistens in my memory, falling in soft waves that frame his chiseled features. The thought of him is intertwined with the memory of this morning’s flight, where Cannibal tested my limits in the skies. The dragon’s wild manoeuvres, his sharp turns and dizzying rolls, felt like a physical manifestation of my inner chaos. I am torn between the thrill of the flight and the crushing weight of grief from Luke’s funeral. The bitter irony of finding solace in such chaos does not escape me.

“Rys?” Baela’s voice jolts me back to reality.

“You must teach me to tame a wild dragon so I can feed our uncles to him,” Rhaena says with a slightly tipsy determination.

I gulp down the last of my wine, letting its warmth spread through me, and respond with a forced casualness. “Well… first, you must be gifted three dragon eggs from your mother’s dragon and wait about… ten and seven years for them to hatch.” I continue, the wine loosening my tongue. “And when they finally hatch, you would then need to feed them to the wild dragon.”

Rhaena’s eyes sparkle with mischief, though her words are slurred. “And then I will no longer be dragonless.”

“And then,” I correct her, a dark amusement flickering in my eyes, “you will feed our uncles to your dragon.” The thought of Aemond and Aegon meeting a slow, painful end brings a twisted sense of satisfaction, a brief respite from my torment.

“That is too much work,” Baela interjects, her tone decisive. “We shall ride tomorrow at dusk, on Cannibal and Moondancer, and steal Vhagar from Aemond.” She raises her goblet in a mock toast. “Take back what is inherently yours.”

Rhaena hesitates, her face clouded with a mix of hesitation and sorrow. “I…” she begins, the words catching in her throat. “I don’t think I want to ride Vhagar, after…” She struggles to finish, the memory of Luke and Arrax’s horrific end clouding her judgment. “After what happened,” she manages to say.

The room falls silent, the gravity of her words settling over us like a shroud. The echoes of our loss hang heavy in the air, mingling with the heady fumes of the wine. The evening is a blur of grief, anger, and dark humour, a desperate attempt to grasp at something—anything—that might alleviate the pain of our shattered world.

The doors to the council chamber slam open with a deafening crash, making the three of us jump in our seats. My mother storms into the room, flanked by Daemon and Jace. Rhaenyra looks disheveled, her normally pristine silver hair a wild mess, and her eyes are red and puffy from crying. The sight of her like this adds a weight to the air that makes it hard to breathe.

“Maehrys, I demand an explanation,” she commands, her voice sharp and demanding as she strides towards the council table.

I stand up abruptly, the wine making my legs unsteady. I nearly stumble, catching myself just in time, but not before I spot the crumpled letter lying discarded on the table. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut.

“You kissed Aemond?” Jace’s voice cuts through the tension, loud and accusing, his tone leaving no room for misinterpretation.

My heart starts pounding fiercely in my chest, a surge of shame and panic washing over me. The horrified looks on Baela, Rhaena, and Jace’s faces make my cheeks flush with heat. Baela’s expression is one of stunned disbelief, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open in shock. Rhaena looks torn between anger and betrayal, her eyes brimming with unshed tears that mirror my own. Jace’s face is a mixture of outrage and confusion, his brows furrowed deeply. The weight of their gazes feels like a heavy cloak, pressing down on me, suffocating me with their disappointment.

“Well?” My mother demands, her tone leaving no room for evasion.

“He kissed me!” I finally blurt out, the words spilling out clumsily through the haze of wine. “On the night of my nameday, he kissed me right after he told me that Alicent planned to write to you.”

“What does she have to do with this?” Rhaenyra interrupts, tossing the crumpled letter onto the table with a sharp gesture.

“She wanted to request a betrothal between Aemond and me, to stop the war,” I explain, struggling to keep my voice steady and clear despite the slurred edges. My heart aches with the weight of my confession, each word dragging me deeper into a pit of regret.

“You kissed your uncle!” My mother’s voice rises with a mix of fury and disbelief. Her eyes flash with a storm of emotions, and I feel the sting of her anger like a physical blow. I fight to hold back the tears that threaten to spill over, my throat tightening as I struggle to keep my composure.

“Like mother, like daughter,” I finally snap, my voice breaking with a mix of defiance and despair as I glance at Daemon’s disappointed face. His gaze is cold and distant, and it cuts through me like a blade.

Rhaenyra’s face contorts with a new level of fury as my words hang in the air, her eye twitching with barely contained rage. I can see the moment when she realizes that I’ve crossed a line, her expression shifting from shock to a dark, simmering anger. The room falls silent, the tension so thick it feels almost tangible. My own shame and regret seem to amplify, filling the space between us with a suffocating heaviness.

“We will talk about this on the morrow.”

Also read on: AO3

Taglist: @watermel0nsugarhigh @door2d-usk

A/N: as always, english is not my first language!!! feel free to correct me anytime!! any feedback is appreciated<3

[auroravictorium]

snow on the beach (pt. 1) (k.b.)

Summary: kaz tries to freeze reader to death, but he's actually just trying to do something nice.

Pairing(s): kaz brekker & reader (semi-stablished relationship)

Word Count: ~2.0k

Warnings: mentions of prior stabbing, allusions to kaz's touch aversion, mentions of a near-death experience, reader thinking about punching kaz because he's hot, kaz trying his best

Genre: fluff w a touch of angst at the end

Author's Note: had to break this beast into a two-parter, otherwise it would end up being way too long. thank you all so much for the love on the midnights series <3 i'm so glad you guys are enjoying this as much as i am while writing it!! tag list has been added at the bottom, so feel free to let me know if you'd like to be added :D happy reading loves!

part two

grishaverse masterlist

There were exactly six inches of distance between you and Kaz's shoulder, a fact you were acutely aware of as you walked down the cramped sidewalk. Cold air gusted off the Fifth Harbor, chilling you through your coat, and you pulled the collar up to stop the wind from reaching its icy fingers down your neck. If you could, you'd burrow yourself into Kaz and leech off his body warmth, but you knew that wouldn't be subtle as you patrolled the harbor. He also wouldn't enjoy the contact, so you kept your hands firmly to yourself.

"I told you to bring a scarf," Kaz muttered just loud enough for you to hear. He limped along without slowing, but you knew he was watching you out of his periphery.

"And I told you that I hate the cold. Why didn't you bring Matthias?" Your teeth chattered, and you tugged your coat tighter around you. If anyone could bear the chilly weather brewing over Kerch, it would be the Fjerdan. But no, Kaz woke you up at dawn and dragged you along on his scan of the harbor. Meanwhile, everyone else was back at the Slat, sleeping or staying warm by the fire. If you were more money-minded, you would charge him interest for the time he was taking trying to freeze you to death. 

"Because Matthias hates me," Kaz answered. "And I find you more tolerable." He looked unbothered and unaffected by the cold, aside from a dusting of red across his stupidly handsome cheekbones. You thought about punching him for looking so attractive. It was unfair.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you just wanted to spend time with me." You glanced up at him, a smirk playing on your half-frozen lips. "But I must say, I'd enjoy this time spent together a bit more if I didn't feel like a walking ice block."

Anyone who knew Kaz only as the ruthless, greedy Dirtyhands wouldn't have noticed any change in his face. But you saw his lips twitch in an almost smile, and his eyes glittered with joy. He must've been in a great mood to risk letting his mask slip like that.

"You're impatient," he told you.

"You're cruel," you retorted, turning your eyes to the cloudy sky. 

The clouds were thick and dark, blocking most of the morning sunshine. Nasty rain was almost certain to happen, but with the frigid cold, a small hope blossomed in your chest that it might turn to snow. Rain was characteristic of Ketterdam, but snow? It didn't happen often enough for your taste. Ironic, considering your loathing of the cold, but there was something magical about the snow. It reminded you of when you were young and watched it fall through the cracked living room window of your childhood home.

Kaz didn't respond, but amusement radiated off of him. You dared to huddle closer to him for warmth, and you were pleased to discover he didn't seem all that inclined to move away. In fact, Kaz was completely unbothered by your closeness to him and your arm pressing against his. He waited for the terror to claim him as it usually did, but he was surprised and pleased to find that little came. He felt nothing more than a tad nauseated.

"Are we almost done? It's nearly breakfast time." If you didn't get next to a hearth soon, you would refuse liability for any acts of violence you committed. 

Kaz again didn't answer, and he remained silent for the next two minutes, even as you huffed and muttered under your breath. You halfheartedly considered pushing him into the road and seeing how well he could dodge a carriage.

After another minute of walking that felt like an hour on your numbing legs, you opened your mouth to ask what was next after the wintry patrol of the harbor. Kaz suddenly stopped walking, and you nearly ran into him. He either didn't notice or didn't care and gripped your elbow to tug you across the rough cobbled street and into an alleyway.

"Couldn't wait for the cold to get me?" you asked, taking in the grimy alley you'd been pulled into. You wouldn't blame Kaz for tiring of your pestering, but you hoped for a more scenic view if your demise was coming. Maybe a nice view of the harbor.

"I realized killing you myself would be more efficient," he answered. His lips quirked up in a smirk.

Kaz pulled you toward a doorway you hadn't initially noticed. Instinctively, you felt for the holster at your waist, but Kaz didn't seem concerned about safety. He was still uncharacteristically cheery, for him at least, and his shoulders were relaxed as he released you in front of the door and rapped his gloved knuckles against the wood three times.

"Has anyone ever told you how you have a way with words?"

You examined the door set into the brick wall: there was nothing special or flashy about it. It was a simple dark oak door leading into a building from the alleyway. You couldn't imagine Kaz making a house call, and walking through the front door on a heist wasn't his style. So why had he brought you here?

The door opened suddenly, and you nearly jumped in surprise. There stood a woman whose perfect tan skin and immaculately styled hair immediately told you that she was Grisha. You examined her more closely, searching for any imperfection, and concluded that she was a Corporalki. 

Her brown eyes flicked between the two of you suspiciously before she seemed to recognize the man at your side. She paled under his icy gaze. "Mister Brekker. I didn't- I must have missed your appointment," she said.

"No appointment, Amalia." He jerked his chin toward you. All hints of humor or amusement had disappeared from his voice. "She needs her tattoo. The crow and cup."

You looked up at him in surprise, your lips parting. After two years with the Dregs and almost a year in Kaz's closest circle, you were finally getting your tattoo? Most Dregs got it sooner, but yours had been put off. For a long time, you wondered if it was because you still needed to prove yourself as a valuable member of the Dregs. But here you were on this stranger's doorstep, and Kaz said this to Amalia as if it was a daily occurrence and not something you had been looking forward to for a long time.

You examined his face, looking for any indication of how he felt, but the expressive Kaz from your walk had disappeared and been replaced with the aloof Dirtyhands everyone feared. You nearly shivered at the sight; of course, you weren't afraid of Kaz anymore. But he so rarely wore that look around you that when he did, it reminded you of what he was capable of. He was not just the man who shared gentle touches of hands with you or tapped his cane against your boot when he wanted to remind you that he was there. He could be cold, calculating, and downright cruel when he needed to be.

Amalia nodded and poked her head out of the doorway to peer into the alley. "Of course. Come in." Her eyes flicked around, searching for anyone following before she stepped aside for the two of you.

Kaz led the way inside, ducking into the warm, incense-filled parlor. You trailed behind him, eyes on his neck as you tried to process the news that Kaz had decided not to tell you about. The door shut behind you, and you examined the dim, smoky entryway. One long, threadbare carpet along the creaky floor, an old staircase with a decaying railing, and a few obviously forged paintings on the peeling wallpapered walls.

"A moment alone, please," you murmured to Amalia as she passed. She moved into a room to your left and then shut the door to give the two of you privacy. Turning to Kaz, you raised your brows. "I'm getting my tattoo?"

Kaz turned to face you after removing his coat and throwing it over the rickety handrail. He leaned against the rotting wood and met your gaze. His eyes filled with warmth again as he looked at you; Dirtyhands had receded for now. "It's been two years," he said softly, so Amalia couldn't hear from the other room. His voice was unexpectedly tender, and you stepped closer to him. "It's overdue."

"You usually send new recruits to get theirs alone and see if they back out of it." You met his gaze. Your heart fluttered in your chest as one side of his mouth quirked upward. Every time he smiled, you were grateful you survived a dagger to the chest nearly five months ago and got the opportunity to finally see it.

"You're hardly a new recruit," he responded. Kaz's cheeks were pink, and you couldn't tell if it was from the heat of the parlor or whatever he was thinking. "And if I sent you alone, this wouldn't be much of a surprise."

"You wanted to surprise me?" you said softly. Your heart was going all mushy on you. Damn it. Pull it together. It's just a tattoo. But it was a tattoo that he came with you to get, even though he didn't have to and probably had a million other things to work on. 

Kaz scowled. "Don't be ridiculous." He had a reputation to uphold, and here you were, completely correct in accusing him of trying to surprise you. His heart flipped in his chest at the happiness on your face, but he maintained his frown. That happiness would be his ruin, but so be it. He hadn't spent three days by your bedside and walked through the blistering cold waiting for damn snowflakes to fall for nothing. He did it for you, for the smile that threatened to break down every barrier he'd put up around his heart and his emotions after Jordie died. 

The icy water of the harbor lapped at his ankles in warning. Stay close to shore, Kaz. 

"Kaz Brekker wanted to surprise me. I'm honored," you teased. You stepped closer and beamed up at him, unaware of how much further Kaz's thoughts went than the tattoo. The scowl on his face lightened, and he looked at you with an expression you didn't recognize on him at first. 

His eyes flicked down to your lips, and you realized what that look was.

Longing.

Kaz didn't move closer or further away, fighting against the water rising around him as your chests touched. You were so warm, so close, and he could see every beautiful shade of color in your eyes even in the dimness of the parlor. If he could paint, he would cover a million canvases with it to try and replicate it to be kept forever. He would make a miniature to keep in his jacket pocket, close to his heart.

He didn't realize that he'd leaned in until a wave of panic threatened to drown him, and he had to jerk away to get air. He turned away from you, and your heart sank in your chest. Not because he hadn't kissed you, but because it was clear he wanted to. It broke your heart to watch him battle himself and then be furious when he felt like he lost each time. You wished there was more you could do.

You brushed your fingers against his shoulder. It's okay, the gesture told him. His shoulders loosened again. He wasn't aware that he'd bunched them up.

"Let's go inside," you whispered. 

He nodded, and for once, Kaz Brekker did not meet your eyes. He thumped his cane against the creaky floorboards and then strode into the room Amalia was waiting for you in.

You took a deep breath, turned your eyes toward the sky and whatever may be there, and followed Kaz into the adjoining room to receive your tattoo.

[part two (coming soon)]

TAGLIST: @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r