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#they're the other side of the coin so to speak
leogichidaa · 1 year
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I want everyone to know that I googled "Slytherin skittles" because I was curious about the etymology and one of the first things that came up was the gang of Slytherins Sirius tells the trio about in GoF, who are allegedly friends with Snape. And so those are the Slytherin skittles now, to me.
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felixvanhuss · 16 days
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Oh yeah, does anyone want to see my Fallen London oc? (I have 2 FL ocs, this is just the one I've drawn lol)
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Their name is Vic Moore and I am sorry to the Tumblr poll I ran, but I did not like how they looked with tits larger than this lol. They use they/them pronouns and are a huge idiot (affectionate) They do know a thing or two about the Shapeling Arts so maybe their tits change in size idk
OH! The outfit was almost entirely designed by my sister @capn-merca because she's better at costume stuff than I am
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debtsunpaid · 7 months
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somehow this blog has become populated with a dozen characters whose relationships to their siblings roughly boils down to "that's not just my family, that is my limb, and to remove them from me would be unthinkable."
and then there's manny and the demon constantine, with a hacksaw and a dream.
#OOC.#it's hilarious i didn't think i'd put so many characters on here with such INTENSE familial hang-ups#cheryl & john constantine speak for themselves: she's literally haunting him bc he can't let her go#beatrice & hero are cousins technically but bea has gotten benedick to try & kill his bestie on hero's behalf before & she Would do it agai#nat would rip someone's spine out with her teeth if her little sister asked her to. jack vincennes probably Has already.#hell the kuntilliokans are Literally designed to be two halves of a whole being. they're so lost on their own#jalla is reacting by going batshit and deciding to rip the world open to reach anima again#and anima has gone the Slightly saner route and hopped down to earth to hunt jalla down and kill them both#thus removing them from this stunted reality and back to their own plane of existence. whole and together again. but also Stabbed#and when jalla argues with her about leaving the world when they can just bring the world to them it hurts both their feelings REAL bad#so that's. ya know. a bit more literal on the limb side of things#and then on the complete other side of the coin there's fuckin demon constantine. they're not Technically siblings but again: halves#except john's gone and made himself whole again and constantwo is absolutely STEAMED about it he wants to murder#and then there's manny who thinks that severing the limb that is emmanuel is the purest show of devotion possible#but he Keeps. Hesitating. and hates that about himself. cain and abel type beat but cain actually thinks about it for a minute#ANYWAY as an older sibling myself i am giggling. save me tragic fictional families#they're all fine and normal and well-adjusted people i assure you. come closer they won't bite. no soap operas raging here nooo#sched.
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specshroom · 5 months
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BLOOD IN THE WATER꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷
"How much longer?"
Your current patron meekly asks from his seat behind you.
"Not much longer."
You curtly reassure him.
You should be used to these tourists and their consistent whines but it never seems to get less pathetic. You suppose you shouldn't blame them considering the position they've gotten themselves into, although a bigger part of you just couldn't muster up sympathy for people who are dumb enough to find themselves in the middle of a monster infested lake with a complete stranger at the oar.
That thought breaks you form your daydream and you take a moment to stare at the deceptively clam waters below. You stop your slow rows, bring the gondola to a steady halt and turn to your patron.
"This is your stop."
You fasten the large oar to the hull and step towards the man so that you can look down at him properly.
He looks around at the open water, the mist is so thick he can barely see a few feet Infront of his face much less any semblance of land. He looks back up at you and hesitates before speaking,
"I...payed for the full trip."
You shake your head solomly,
"I only said I could get you on the lake...which I did."
You gesture around to the lake that you both are very much on.
"If you want to get to the other side, that's a seperate trip."
You hold your hand out, clearly indicating what you want. The man's eyebrows scrunch, his eyes go from wide with fear to a heated glare and his hands grip the travel bag he's been cradling.
"You can't do that! We agreed!"
He yells and you quickly cover his mouth with your hand as ripples break in the water all around the gondola. As if he just remembered where he is, the man freezes and lets out a little whimper when he hears tiny splashes in the water right next to him. The small boat rocks side to side as the water vibrates, sounding out the life that dwells beneath it.
The water settles after a few moments of silence and you stand again and look down at the quivering man.
"What choice do you have?"
The tourist heaves out a defeated breathe and digs in his bag to retrieve a sack of coins for the rest of the trip. He hands it to you with an icy glare.
"Is that enough for you?"
He hisses, a little quiver remains in his voice.
You give him a look and continue to count your coins. If you're being honest, you expected more from him. The disappointment must show on your face because he looks just about ready to swing at you before you let out a loud whistle.
Just then several claws burst out of the water and grab him. He shrieks as wet scaly hands cling to his shirt. One by one three heads pop out of the water to leer at his now pale face, drained of any colour once his wide eyes meet the inky black orbs of the creatures holding him down. They bare their sharp teeth as talons sink into his skin making him unable to struggle lest they dig further.
His panicked eyes can only follow you as you start plucking valuables from his pockets and rummaging through his belongings.
From the corner of his eye he can see more of these creatures circling the gondola. Waiting.
You sit down with a huff, slightly rocking the boat as you count and inspect your new plunder.
After a few moments you hear low growls that simmer into whines, you peer up at the multiple black eyes staring at you, waiting for the go ahead. The man's blood is already seeping into their claws and they're practically drooling.
You take pity on the poor creatures and with no more than a final glance at the man you let out another whistle and he's instantly pulled from the boat into the water without time to scream. You huff as the water splashes you, as eager as they are it was a pretty good deal you struck with the creatures, you get the valuables and they get dinner.
As you watch the merfolk fight over their thrashing meal you feel a tug on your sleeve. One of the creatures looks up at you from the surface with intrigue. You give them a questioning look and in response they bring themselves higher over the hull to rather boldly nuzzle at your neck.
You huff in amusement and waste no time grabbing their jaw and kissing their cold but soft lips, caressing their wet cheek with your warm hand. They croon at the warm touch and lick into your mouth.
Another one surfaces the water to place kisses on your neck with a few cheeky nibbles as they cling to your clothes to try and bring your body closer.
You fully indulge in the benefits of your agreement with these creatures as the water around you turns crimson.
꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷
Some more of this!
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inkdrinkerworld · 4 months
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My biggest girl dad and just generally dad Remus thought is his reaction to seeing his baby's accent start to show. It's so, so cute when babies' accents start to show and a baby with a welsh accent 🥺. Like maybe they're eating breakfast or something and she's just recently learned to talk and she developed the most extra British/Welsh accent and his reaction to seeing her talk that way
Ahh yes yes!!!
Neither you nor Remus have super thick accents, they’re both mild and only gets thick when you’re upset or wound up.
Your daughter, Carys, on the other hand sounds very Welsh.
You love the way she sounds, accent thick and tripping over words and with how raspy her voice sounds you and Remus love how much she speaks.
“Da’!” She screams as Remus walks into the kitchen, twisting in her high chair to kiss him even if her mouth is smeared with blueberry and porridge. “M’having ‘orridge.” Remus smiles against her cheek.
Carys only started talking maybe three months ago, but in those three months she’s spoken nonstop to you and Remus’ delight.
She tumbled over p’s and t’s but it doesn’t take away from the cuteness of it all.
“You are, did you have all your fruits?” Remus reaches for you next, kissing your forehead as you hand him a cup of tea.
“Mm, no thanks.” She says, Remus stifling a laugh as you narrow your eyes playfully at her.
“You have to have your banana Carys. S’good for your muscles.” James has made her recently obsessed with the idea of growing muscles; you and Remus tend to play into it.
Her eyes widen, a sticky hand reaching for a banana coin. “One for da’,” she sounds impossibly too much a mix of Remus and a very posh English woman. Remus accepts the sticky fruit, cringing as he watches oatmeal stuck to it.
“One for ma’,” you kiss the side of her head, watching her grab a few in her own fist and shove them into her mouth.
“Good job baby,” Remus kisses her cheek again, Carys giggling madly when you join in, blowing raspberries on her cheeks.
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sunnythanalan · 2 months
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One of the best
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I have been thinking about Erenville a lot and how the narrative allows us to really get to know him through the quiet moments. Through action rather than spoken words.
His mother calls him a fussy little bunbun, which is funny to begin with as we know him so far to be a taciturn and practical man. But while we travel with him we discover that he has suffered abandonment all throughout his life; first by his mother leaving him in care of others as she traveled herself, then by sending him away on his own travels, then further upon his return when there is a literal screen between them. The symbolism here is unmistakable. 
Then, as we progress, it becomes quite clear that Erenville suspects that there’s something wrong with his mother. Instantly he’s on the defensive, citing that her whimsy and overwhelming personality always overshadow his own wishes, and that he struggles to understand her, also to trust her. His quiet stoicism isn’t that funny anymore. 
In an ironic twist we discover that she has left him one last time, to the land of Living Memory. Even if it was never her intention to leave him in such a way, it must be hard to overcome that sense of continuous abandonment - and this time he has to say goodbye forever. That he draws away from everyone else to grieve and come to terms with this in solitude speaks volumes. It really indicates that he dealt with difficult emotions alone a lot while growing up, and in such a way he never learned how to rely on others. In the end, when finally pressed to the breaking point, Erenville lashes out in anger as the tools he made for himself fails him in processing all of his grief and fear alone. He has to find the courage to trust his mother with his emotions and that just as she's leaving him one last time.
Wuk Lamat is always right there in your face going through her emotions and leaning upon others for support, on the other side is Erenville, who draws back with his pain. We learn to know him just as deeply as Wuk Lamat, but through everything that isn’t said, rather than what is said. In fear of sounding effusive, even their appearance symbolises this: they're golden dawn and darkening dusk. Two sides of the same coin.
Honestly, personally to me, Erenville is one of the best written characters in this story so far. I love him deeply. I cried so hard for him.
PS. His love for his mother becomes so clear in the love he pours into the fauna that she mentored him in. While working as a gleaner, he's probably as close to her as he can be when she's physically not there. In the moments we see him care for animals his entire countenance changes, he becomes soft and caring, even exuberant and joyful.
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heli-writes · 7 months
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A dragon's heart
Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader
Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.
Disclaimer: Heavy violence in the last part, throat cutting and gutting of human people, mentions of rape (no visual description!), swearing
[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]
Part 1, Part 2
Series Masterlist
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
People don't dare to speak about them out loud. Afraid that it would manifest them. They would only speak about them only in whispers behind closed doors. Fathers would tell their sons that it's better to flee than to fight. Don't play the hero. You can't win a fight against them, no one can. Mothers tell their daughters about the horrors they commit. You'd rather be dead than be captured by them. The women they don't kill after they're done, don't last more than a week. Y/n heard all the stories growing up. Some are more horrifying than others. Y/n has never lived in one place for too long. Her people have always been wanderers, offering their services and wares to the villages they pass through. So, she's come to hear a great deal of stories in her lifetime.
In the past two years, life has been unfortunate for y/n. The wandering folk have always been victims of bandits waiting on the side of the road. They've found ways to defend themselves but bandit activity has risen in the past years due to the barbarians attacking and raiding places all over the kingdom. Like sharks smelling blood, other low-life criminals start to crawl out of their holes, sensing an opportunity to gain some coin and women for themselves. Y/n's group has been attacked quite a few times over the last two years, decimating their numbers bit by bit. Having lost people, coins and wares, the last winter was harsh. Those, who didn't starve to death, died due to the harsh cold or infection that followed soon after. After that winter, there weren't many left of them and the survivors started to question if their way of life was still liveable in the current condition. Eventually, the group dismembered. Not all at once, but one by one. People found other work or opportunities in the villages they passed through. A better prospect of life. Even y/n's elder brother, her only surviving family member, left this spring and enrolled in the military service of the king. He tried to convince her to come with her and settle down in the capital. But y/n can't imagine such a life. Being used to living in the open, in tents and wagons, she developed a distaste for sleeping in houses made of stone. It gives her nightmares. The thought that the house might crumble and its stones burying her alive, scares her to death.
Eventually, y/n ends up alone. Only her, her tent, and a wagon her parents left behind. She tried keeping up the life of a wanderer until her donkey died of old age and she had no coin to buy a new one. Having no opportunity to continue to pull her wagon, she was forced to settle closeby to a small settlement. Here's the thing. Villagers are usually nice to the wandering folk. They're happy to trade with them and the change of pace and stories they bring with them. However, they are not keen on having them in their life permanently. It's nice to have them around for a couple of days, but it's also good when they move on. Then there are the prejudices. Often people put y/n's kind into the same box as other people without a permanent residence like bandits, homeless people, or moving brothels. So, people weren't too happy when y/n put up her tent close to the village entrance.
You see, most people don't treat y/n unkindly as long as she keeps her distance and has the proper coin when she needs to buy something. They even trust her enough to buy her wares but they're not very inclusive. So y/n does not really find any friends or social connections and she is aware of the demeaning glances and sneers people give her when they think she's not looking. She's trying to save up coins for a new donkey and hopes to find her brother. Maybe convincing him to leave the military. Or at least to find a more inviting place than where she is now.
Today's the celebration of the long day. It's the longest day of the year and the people celebrate the daylight for blessing their fields and fruits. There's a festival in the village with dances, beverages and lots of music. It gives y/n some consolation that the village people are celebrating this day. It's a big festival for her people with different traditions and rituals that are held all day and night. This year y/n tried to do as many of them on her own, but it's just not the same without your family around. So, she's glad she can go into the village and take part in the buzzing celebration. Though 'take part' is probably a bit too much. She probably will buy a cup of fruit wine and watch the hustle and bustle of the villagers. It's not like anybody would want to dance with her. After all, she has no real prospect of marriage around here. Nobody would let their son court and marry a woman like her. Not that y/n is interested in any of the young men she's seen in the village. She finds most of them quite close-minded and not very driven.
Y/n wears a flower crown she's woven today and one of her mother's dresses. It actually might be the one she got married in. She wanders the town square and watches old men toast with full jugs of beer and young couples sneaking around, waiting for the music to start. She gets herself a cup of wine and a sugary piece of cake and settles on the ground next to the bakery stand. Cross-legged, she bites into her cake and takes notice of some middle-aged women looking in her direction and whispering behind raised hands. Y/n shrugs it off as the music starts to play and people start to dance. She watches the commotion and whips her feet to the music. She really would love to dance. At midnight, the villagers dim the lanterns and lit a fire in the middle of the square. Curiously, y/n blends into the mass that gathers around the fire. She bumps into a man her age. She apologizes and gives the man a small smile. The man looks at her in bewilderment and his friend gives her a mean look, pulling the man away from her. Slowly, silence befalls the square and the old storyteller of the village makes his way to the middle of the square, next to the fire. Y/n buzzes with excitement. She loves stories. Before starting his story, the man lets his gaze wander through the people and takes a deep breath.
Far away from here, behind the mountain range we call bear fangs, lays the territory of the dragonblood tribe. These beasts of men managed to tame the greatest monsters known to mankind: the dragons. Over 12 feet high, spewing raging fire, these creatures are nothing more than steel-hard scales and razor-sharp teeth. While normal people, like us, would fear for their lives encountering these monsters, the dragonblood tribe has lived together with them for centuries in what they call harmony. There's no doubt you have to be a special kind of person to survive an encounter with such a monster, let alone live with them. Tall, strong, cunning and unafraid of death. All characteristics the men of the tribe possess. Some say they even mixed their blood with their dragons and gained impenetrable skin and superhuman strength.
A strength that they still use today to bring terror and fear into our lands. However, a few winters ago, a horrible sickness befell the women of the dragonblood tribe. Most of them didn't survive the season. Having lost their women, the dragonblood men lust for female flesh. Flesh that they seek nowadays in our lands.
We've all heard stories. From an aunt or uncle living in other parts of the kingdom, from passing merchants or the wandering folk about them. They do not care for day or night, they attack whenever they feel like it. There's no plan or logic to their attack, just chaos and violence. They burn houses, skin men alive, put children on spikes and do unspeakable, terrible things to our women. We should fear every single one of them but... there's one we should fear the most. Their leader: Bakugou Katsuki. He's the cruelest, strongest, and meanest of them all. He managed to tame the biggest and most dangerous dragon of all kinds: A hellfire dragon. With scales red as blood and fire as hot as a hundred forges, no one can escape this beast. And no one can escape its master either. With an insatiable hunger for coin, gold and women, their leader and his men continue to invade this country and raid its villages and towns. Greedily acquiring riches and kidnapping and taking our women whenever they please. You never know when they strike, but when you see a sliver of burning red in the sky... Take your little siblings, put your old mother on your back and leave farm and home behind, and run as fast as you can. If you're lucky, and cunning yourself, you might just be able to escape the terror of the dragonblood tribe and live another day to tell the story.
As the storyteller finishes his story, the market square lies in eery silence. Nobody dares to even move. Only when the musicians start playing again and the lanterns are lit again, the tension eases and the gathering around the fire dissolves. Y/n gets up from the place she was seated in and rubs her arms. There are goosebumps all over her body. What a creepy story to tell during such delightful festivities, she thinks. She grabs her cup to return it to the vendor. In passing, she hears someone say: "Why on earth would he speak of this? Doesn't he know it's a bad omen to speak it out loud?". She returns her cup and lets her gaze wander over the square once more. Some couples picked up dancing again but it's obvious that the atmosphere has shifted. Y/n notices the man she bumped into earlier watching her from across the square. She gives him a nod and then turns around to leave.
Y/n set up camp not too far away from the village, but far away enough to have some peace and quiet. The wandering folk often set up camp in a forest or closeby a river, living off the land around them. So, y/n has a short walk by foot back to her tent. The moon stays high in the sky, illuminating her surroundings enough for her to comfortably find her way home. Deep in her own thoughts, y/n doesn't notice the dark shadows following her. She's been walking for a while when she finally hears the snickering of male voices behind her. She looks over her shoulder and sees three male silhouettes following her. "Hey, y/n, wait a second!", she hears one of them yell. The voice is familiar. One of the villagers. She stops for a second, a stupid mistake on her part. One of the men jog up to her, the others following closely. "I'm sorry, can I help you with anything?", y/n says calmly. "Actually, there's something huge you could help me with.", the man she bumped into earlier grins. Y/n pretends not to catch on the allusion. "If you need help with something, it's best to work on it tomorrow. Also, we probably should talk to your father first since he handles business in your family.", she states. She hopes the mention of his father will intimidate the guy. "Oh, I think it's best to work on it tonight.", the man answers and his friends snicker behind him. "Sorry, I'm tired. Let's talk about it tomorrow.", y/n tries to advert him once again. "It won't be any work for you at all. You'd just have to lay down. Or stand up, depending on how you like it.", the man says and leans close. "I'd like to go home. Alone.", she tells him and turns to leave. "C'mon don't be like that!", one of his friends grins behind him, as the other one grabs her arm. "You're drunk. You should all go home, too. It's best to sleep it off.", she tells them and pulls on her arm. "Why are you like that? You don't think we're worth your time?", the third one coos. Y/n pulls on her arm again. "I'm sure you're all great and we can talk about everything tomorrow. Right now, however, I'd prefer to go home alone.", she tries again. "Not even for some coin? I heard your kind does everything for a little bit of gold.", the man holding her arms sneers. Not for any gold in the world, y/n would like to say. She knows better than to offend them. It's already a dangerous situation she's in. No need to escalate it further. "C'mon, babe. At least let me feel you up a bit.", the guy says and tries to pull her closer. Y/n decides that she has had enough of this. She balls her fist and swings it right into the man's face. Not expecting the blow, he lets go of her arm and stumbles back. Y/n doesn't waste a second and makes a run for it. Immediately, she leaves the well-known path and darts into the woods. She hopes that the trees give her enough cover to keep out of their sight. She runs in a zigzag, changing her direction multiple times. She hears the man behind her, trying to keep up with her. Unfortunately for her, they are bigger and faster than her and it's hard to shake them off. Eventually, y/n loses them. She climbs up a tree and stays unmoving for a long time. She doesn't hear them anywhere close by and her heart slows down a bit. It's not the first time she had to run away from men with bad intentions. She knows it's not a smart idea to return to her tent immediately. So, she stays up on the tree for most of the night. Her eyes fall close a couple of times but after she almost loses balance one time, she stays awake for the remaining night listening closely into the woods.
Only when the sun starts to rise again and wafts of mist waver over the cold forest ground, y/n climbs down from her spot. Her joints are stiff and she's chilled to the bone. Cautiously, she starts her way back to her tent. Of course, she did not watch where she was going last night and it takes her multiple hours to find her way back. When she arrives at her campsite, chills run down her back. Apparently, these men were not only relentless but also petty. Her entire campsite is destroyed. They absolutely trashed the place and set fire to her tent and wagon. Y/n takes in the sight. She tries to stay calm but her blood is boiling. It's not like she cared much about the possessions. The wandering folk always packed lightly and only what they could carry. It's the disrespect for her. Also, the little things that she did own were necessities. It's still early in the morning, so y/n decides to salvage what she can and take her leave. She knows men like this. When they don't get what they want, they don't rest until they absolutely destroy everything.
Unfortunately for y/n, the devil works fast and these men work faster. She just started piling up things that were still usable when she hears clamoring just a mile away. "Let's go! She must be back by now! No way she leaves her witchcraft stuff behind!", she hears a man yell. Y/n debates for a few seconds whether or not to stand her ground but decides it's better to avoid confrontation. She quickly grabs a small bag and retreats to the forest. However, she doesn't make it far. Only a few meters into the woods, an arrow flies by her head. "There she is! I saw her just beyond the tree line!", she hears a yell behind her. Immediately, y/n breaks into a sprint. She tries to lose them by zigzagging again but the broad daylight makes it easier for them to spot her. Being used to walking all day, y/n has quite the stamina and hopes to tire them out. However, she didn't sleep all night and the men seemed to have prepared for a longer hunt. 'Hunt' is the appropriate term here. They keep shooting arrows at her and seem to track her trails.
The forest no longer looks familiar to y/n as she keeps pushing on. Her heart feels as if it's about to explode. In a bad way. She's sure the men on her tail can hear her heavy breathing from a mile away. She's also sure that they start to catch up to her. She can hear them closer and closer behind her. They are whooping and whistling as if they are making fun of her. So sure that they can catch up to her. Suddenly, an arrow flies close to her face again, cutting her ear. She can feel blood dripping down the side of her face. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! You can't hide forever, you little bitch!", she hears one of them call out behind her. She gathers all her strength and pushes her legs to run even faster than before. Panic sets in and she hears an arrow hit the ground behind her. Trying to look back in order to estimate how far they are behind her, she stumbles over the roots of a tree and falls to the ground. "Over there!", a voice yells closely behind her. She gets up as quickly as she can and a piercing pain jolts through her. She must've torn or broken something in her joint as she fell. She limbs on trying to use the trees for cover. Another arrow hits the bark of the tree right next to her. She pushes herself off the tree, trying to bring more distance between herself and the men hunting her. Suddenly she loses her footing and finds herself sliding down a slope. Thorny bushes cut her legs, arms and face. The impact leaves a ringing tone in her ears. Her entire body hurts now. For a moment, she's tempted to just lay there and accept her fate. But when she hears the howling men above her, she fights to get back onto her feet again. Her bones feel heavy as she staggers on. She can hear some of the men sliding down the slope as well. Suddenly, she smells smoke in the air. Somebody must be close by!, she thinks. This thought cost her a valuable second and suddenly a pointed force to her right shoulder knocks her down again. Next, she feels a soaring pain from the very same place. When she turns her head to her side, in terror she realizes that an arrow is stuck in her shoulder. She can barely lift her arm now. On her hands and knees, she frantically looks for smoke in the air. Y/n fixes her eyes on the dark clouds of smoke rising into the air just a yard or so from her. It's my only chance, y/n decides. These people might be able to help. They can't be worse than the men that are hunting her. Little did she know, it was quite the opposite. Having found new hope, y/n gets back onto her feet. She starts sprinting again. Ignoring the pain in her foot joint, she pushes her body to the limit. Avoiding arrows out of sheer luck, she manages to avoid getting killed. Finally, she stumbles onto the clearing where the smoke was coming from.
Her eyes fall onto the fireplace first, then at the man sitting next to it. The man only wears dark pants and a pair of boots. He's got blonde spiky hair that stands up in different directions. Necklaces of teeth hand from his neck. All things y/n doesn't register in her panic. That and the giant, red dragon sleeping at the other side of the clearing. The man gets up immediately and grabs a sword that laid across his lap just seconds ago. He looks at y/n angrily, ready to yell or behead her or both. However, he does not get a chance to speak. Y/n's body gives out and she falls onto her knees. "I'm begging you!", she yells out, tears streaming down her face. "Please help me! If you have just an inch of good in you, please find the mercy to help me! They are going to kill me!", she continues to yell. The man looks at her in bewilderment. Nearby, the village men yell in her direction. In horror, she pushes herself up once more and stumbles in the direction of the strange man in front of her. She falls straight into his chest, clinging onto his arm. For a moment, the man looks as if he wants to push her back to the ground again but he doesn't get a chance to do so. One of the men hunting y/n stumbles onto the clearing with a knife in his hand. "There you are, you little slut!", he yells. In fear, y/n clings to the man in front of her. Suddenly, the stranger grabs her right arm. Pain shots from the arrow wound into her fingertips. She looks up and sees the stranger look at the wound with narrowed eyes. Another villager reaches the clearing. This one carries a bow and arrow. The stranger quickly makes the connection between the arrow stuck in y/n's shoulder and the arrow in the man's hand.
The stranger yells something non-understandable and pushes y/n to the side who falls to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The impact sends more pain through y/n body. "Who the fuck are you? That one belongs to us, find your own toy to play with!" the knife man says and raises his weapon. The stranger exclaims something loud and angry. Again y/n can't understand him. He must speak a different language than her. Suddenly a rumble pierces the air. Y/n's head whips around and the dragon rises to his feet. Y/n's mouth hangs open in disbelief. The man with the arrow yelps in surprise and lets go of his arrow sending it flying in an arbitrary direction. The stranger in front of her doesn't waste a second and uses the distraction to cut the knife guy's throat in a swift movement. In horror, y/n watches as blood gushes out of the horizontal wound and the man chokes on his own body fluids. The man with the bow stumbles backward onto his butt. His eyes are still fixated on the dragon to his right. The stranger harshly steps onto the man's foot. The disgusting sound of breaking bones rings through the air. The man yells in pain and throws his head back. The stranger grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks his head forward. Angrily, he yells at the villager and when the man only groans in pain, the stranger sticks his sword into his side. The villager lets out a bone-chilling scream. When the villager continues to not answer him, the stranger starts twisting his sword in the wound. The villager throws up on himself and his eyes roll into the back of his head. Y/n can't advert her eyes. She doesn't really comprehend what's happening in front of her. When more yelling is heard at the edge of the clearing, the stranger pulls his sword diagonally through the man's abdomen, creating a wound that makes squishy red things fall out of the man's body. Y/n feels like throwing up. The stranger drops the twitching man and makes its way to the edge of the clearing. What happens next is not registered by y/n who can't help but stare at the gutted man in front of her who keeps twitching until the light has left his eyes. She doesn't hear the screams of terror and death from the other side of the clearing. She doesn't even see the giant beast watching her every move.
Only when the stranger returns with blood dripping down his sword and chest, y/n's consciousness finds its way back into her body. The stranger looks as angry as he has since she entered his clearing. He sounds angry too. He's saying something to her. Looking at it backward, y/n is sure that she wouldn't have been able to understand him even if he spoke her language at this very moment. Only when he stomps closer to her with a raised sword, y/n springs to action and pushes herself backward with one leg, still sitting on the ground. This is it, she thinks, I'm going to die. The man grabs her uninjured shoulder and shakes her. She stares up at him with wide eyes. Suddenly, her vision starts spinning and her hearing starts to fade. Before she understands what is happening, her world fades to black.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]
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neoplatinum · 6 months
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north and south poles | minatozaki sana
summary: sana wonders, are we not the two sides of the magnet?
pairing: childhood-friend!sana x fem!reader
themes: extremely angsty, best friends to ?? to ??, internalized homophobia, gender dysphoria, sana's not too great of a friend, reader is a pushover until she isn't, implied sex, original male character, [----] x reader
wc: 3.3k
(side a: we can't be friends - ariana grande)
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when sana's seven, her mother explains the cardinal rules in life. that boys and girls are polar opposites, like two sides of the coin, or like left and right. boys and girls are like the north and south poles of a magnet. and for a long time this holds true.
boys like to play rough, kick dirt over each other, chase after poor cats in hopes of catching them, or smack each other in the head. it's all a bit too gruesome for sana. she never did like watching them play, it felt like they were fighting. boys are like boxing matches, competing for a top winner. but girls are different.
girls are gentle, they play with dolls together, creating groups to play house or sliding down slides, and everyone cheers each other on. girls also like sharing cool things they found: cute rocks, rings, and toys. girls are like gentle waves crashing against the beach.
sana makes this distinction very early on, boys are boys and girls are girls. there's no in between for a seven year old sana. and life gets explained to her pretty easily by her mom. be a pretty girl, and you'll marry a good man who'll protect you and your family.
but her mother also told sana that you were a rowdy kid. a girl that played with the boys; you liked kicking dirt at the boys, chasing cats to catch them, or smacking each other in the head. but you were a girl, you also liked playing with dolls, and sliding down slides. you especially liked cute rocks, so you were someone she needed clarification with how to categorize as a kid.
so she asked her mom about you.
"oh her, she has no manners. her parents probably don't have enough time to teach her all that. they're both always so busy at work." her mother's chopping onions as she speaks, not lifting an eye at sana. and little sana rocks herself back and forth in the kitchen, a little confused by her own mom.
she's met your parents, they were nice people. offering royal milk tea to her, even if she wasn't allowed to have it. they always gave sana first pick for dishes they made, always. and like them, you often gave her parts of your lunch whenever sana was given too little.
and when sana enters middle school, this cardinal rule starts to shake a bit. boys are boys and girls are girls, but you are a girl, with boy-ish tendencies.
you liked playing rough with fuji, throwing dirt at each other even if it stained each other's school uniform. you liked shoving bigger boys when they were mean to girls, even if you had a black eye and sana had to rub a hard boiled egg over it.
but you were also as gentle as a girl, you held sana's hand gently whenever she wanted to walk along the rock wall, balancing on the ledge. you also helped blow and wash off sana's cuts whenever she scraped her knee in dance. just like how her mother does it.
you were the in between, and in between's don't exist in her mother's cardinal rule. when her mother and father sit at the dinner table and sana's mother asks her which boy in class she thinks is cute. sana doesn't think of any boy, but she thinks of you. you with your rough exterior with the older boys, but gentle and soft to sana, always.
"fuji?" her mother asks her. and sana thinks about fuji, a dependable friend in her life. a boy that is also gentler, although sometimes she thinks he's too loud during basketball. he shoves harder than you do, when you three play tag together. his hands are more rough, he towers over sana and really she sees him like an older brother.
sana thinks fuji is exactly the guy that her mother would like for her to marry.
"yeah, i think so." but sana really doesn't think so, her mind drifts off to your long hair and your soft shoulders.
--
when sana's twelve and excited to go home with you after the sga meeting, fuji confesses to her at the back of the school. he presents to her a letter. and through it all, the only thing she could gather was that sana was the prettiest girl in their class, and she has the prettiest smile.
all these compliments feel nice, but it doesn't stir her like you do. when you tell her that her hair is pretty today or that the bow she chose to match her shoes makes her look look fashionable. she stands by the wall, hands behind her back and staring at her shoes. all she can afford to do is nod at the words.
she knows this much, fuji is nice enough. he doesn't kick her chair like some other boys in the class; he always lets her walk inside the sidewalk when there are cars. so when he asks for a first date, she agrees, not letting her eyes look up at him. he walks away relieved, but sana can't feel anything other than a weight in her stomach.
another cardinal rule her mother told her is that lying is wrong.
so she asks for your opinion, and as she stands by your desk, watching you peacefully take a nap. she thinks about just ripping up the letter in her hand. she readies herself for the best performance of her life. to ask you a question that's self-indulgent. if you'll be her first kiss. and just like that she broke another cardinal rule, lying to you, but mostly to herself.
she thinks your lips would be soft, smelling like that cherry lipstick you like so much. and when you do kiss, she feels like she's floating. your hands are soft, when they cradle her jaw. moisturized with that cherry hand cream she gifted you. your hands are smaller too, they fit her head nicely. and most of all you're gentle. you pull apart, and sana nearly falls forward, body leaning into the kiss.
you stare at her in expectation, and panic surges through her body. you aren't fuji, you are the girl that's always played rougher than other girls. a girl that'll always give her 100% during class sprints, while all the other girls lightly jog. and the first thing she can think of is that she wishes you were a boy.
so she say's the exact words that tear your heart apart.
“wow yeah, that was good.” sana fiddles with her school skirt, “i wish you were a boy, you’d make a girl very happy kissing her like that.”
sana says that, but she watches as your eyes fall, hand dejected, and she can't help but feel like everything she knows about love is wrong. you don't say anything, so she leaves, closing the sga door behind her.
eyes welling up in tears as she thinks about how wrong this all is. if only you were a boy. she sinks onto the floor and cries into herself. when sana goes on the date, and fuji kisses her at her doorstep, she thinks of you. how he has to bend down to kiss her, and it all feels so wrong. later that night she starts a pros/cons list between you and fuji.
the only thing she has written for fuji is that "mother would like him." she tears the sheet of paper and tosses it into her waste basket.
--
when sana's eighteen and talking to her friends about boyfriends. all they have to say is that sex is amazing. they all talk about their first time and when they ask sana of what she thinks, she confesses that she's never done it.
"doesn't fuji ask you to?" one friend asks.
"no, he doesn't." the girl looks at sana weird but then shakes her head quickly.
"some guys are like that, they might not want to do it yet." she comments and then the conversation shifts on to talk about the latest school gossip.
sana's quiet for the rest of the week. she thinks about it, sex with fuji, and all she can do is groan. it's the natural progression of a relationship, but she feels like it's a weight in her stomach. that same weight she felt when he confessed to her.
so she does what she naturally did next when she was twelve; she finds you. she hasn't visited your house in years, it's still the same, even though there's a new door that she doesn't recognize anymore. and when she rings it, she finally sees you up close after so long.
she thinks about what she came here for in the first place. oh right, sex with fuji. so she comes up with the best excuse she can, that fuji wants to have sex. she knows its absurd, she's lying through her teeth, none of the reasons makes sense.
but the way you look right now, she can't think of anyone else she wants to have sex with. it stirs low in her stomach. her wanting you, so she lets a bit of truth in her lie.
"i need you to be my first, i want you to be. it can't be anyone else." sana is firm, but you look conflicted. eyes flitting all over the room. debating your morals.
she grabs your hands. eyes with want as she stares at you, and then you say yes. and suddenly the weight is lifted. sana feels like she's floating again.
when you pull her into your room, she feels like she's invincible. this room has always been so safe, and the way you stare into her with want, she thinks she wants to stay here forever in your arms.
the way you ask for permission, the way you constantly ask her if this is what she wants. asking if she's feeling good, gentle hands smelling like cherries that slip off her clothes. she thinks she'll stay naked like this forever if you asked her to.
her mind fills with you, shouting your name into the night where only you two exist in this world. she thinks this is right, this is what love is all about. this little bubble lasts only a night.
weeks later, she proposes sex to fuji, and he nods adamantly. like a horny teenager boy, which he is. but it all feels so off, even though she know's that he'll never cross boundaries. his hands feel too rough, he's too fast and he never asks sana how she feels.
sana feels the emptiest when she thinks back to how she thanked you when she left your room, when all she wanted to say was "i love you." and cherish you for the rest of her life.
--
when sana's nineteen on her birthday, all she can think of is how she hates fuji's arms around her shoulder. how you stare at the arm like it's the most offensive thing in the world. and sana agrees too, it is offensive, so she shoves it off, playing it off like she has an itchy shoulder.
she smiles at the way you relax back into your seat, like you staked your claim on her. it makes her feel wanted by you. even if she knows its wrong that you kiss her messily in the bar bathroom five minutes later, she feels like life is right.
--
when sana's twenty, bored out of her mind in her apartment with fuji. she thinks of you, she often does anyways. eyes wide when she comes up with the best plan. she purposely fights with fuji, calls him too suffocating, watching tears roll down his eyes, and she feels bad. she really does, she hates seeing him cry because of her, but she needs to get away.
so she calls you, bags packed and waiting by the door. her heart leaping in her chest when you knock on the door. grabbing her bags and asking her to stay in the car. giving stern words to fuji before finally leaving together. away from fuji.
sana stays with you for weeks, waking up and sleeping next to you. always attached to the hip, just like magnets. she lets herself believe this is her life, living with you, being with each other forever. she fits perfectly in your hold, as well as you in her. she always tells you she loves you, but only after you fallen asleep. she whispers it into your ears like they'll be heard. like a spell she put you under.
she doesn't think about fuji until he texts her much later, asking if it's okay to meet up and make up. so she goes back, feeling awful about letting her boyfriend believe she's mad at him. she avoids you for months to not feel the guilt. but it eats at her every day.
--
when sana's twenty-four and enjoying a stroll in the city with fuji. he proposes to her, with both their families around for the surprise. as she listens to him, one knee up, professing his love for her. she looks at her mother, her mother with happy tears in her eyes and she can't find herself to say no, so she says yes instead.
wedding planning is fun when she thinks about it as a wedding with you, so the best she can do is ask you to be her maid of honor. she presents to you the wedding invitation in your apartment. talking your ear off about how happy she is, watching you get more and more upset.
just waiting for you to tell her you want to run away with her, to elope together. move away and change names and live in europe together. she lists off all the things she can think of that a girl would like in a wedding, but you never ask her to run away. she knows its selfish, to want you to pull her out of her life, she just can't find the courage to pull herself out of it.
you show up to the wedding, in a gorgeous dress that she thinks that she would marry you in right now. you give a speech about how you, fuji, and sana all met. you talk with so much passion in your voice. she thinks that you might actually be happy for them. sana cries tears out of despair, maybe you really do think sana loves fuji. but she's in love with you.
when you make an analogy that fuji and sana are like magnets drawn to each other, the whole crowd awws, and sana feels her heart break. thats how she sees you and her, a perfect match. the rest of the wedding becomes unremarkable to her.
when you disappear, sana searches for you: eyes wide and frantic. calling up all your friends and family, but they all say the same thing, "she said she's going on vacation for a while, soul-searching?"
sana visits your house everyday, waiting for you to show up like hidden treasure. ever since she's found out she's been pregnant, she's been trying to find tell you about it. you should be the first to know, but you don't show up until a month later.
and when sana wakes up to the sight of you, it's like she's whole again. she walks away from that conversation sadder than ever, you don't drown in her eyes anymore. hands shuffling and changing positions often as she explains about her new incoming newborn.
--
when sana's twenty-five you walk out of her life. after the long labor and intense pain she went through, out came her little baby girl. wailing and crying at the introduction of the world, fuji's trying to wipe down sana's sweat and calm her down, but sana's drowsiness leads to her calling out your name instead, fuji think it's strange but doesn't comment on it. she sleeps for a long time.
when she wakes up to fuji excitedly telling sana that you are visiting. she tries her best to smooth out her hair and her heart rate jumps at the news. so she gets ready for you to visit her.
she thinks she'll name her daughter after you, the same girl she's so in love with. when she proposes the idea, you shut her down. she's never heard this tone before, so harsh and so mean. but she deserves it, the same way she knows she deserves all things bad to her when you look so dejected every time she leaves. she needs you by her side, she can't do motherhood alone with fuji, she doesn't think she can do life without you.
but then you say it, words that make her feel like her heart got pulled out of her chest. you pulled it out. you're moving away, a whole different country, a whole life without sana. and you want to, be away from sana. she can hear it in the way you say it, the way you stand up from the visitor's chair, having only sat there for a minute. the way you walk out of the room. you would have kept walking out had fuji not stopped you.
and sana's angry, after all this, you walk away. she can't tell who she's angry at anymore. angry at you, angry at fuji, angry at her mom, angry at the world. and she lands on it, she's angry at herself. with hot tears running down her face, you look back one more time, and you still leave. like you just double checked that it is exactly what you want to do, leave sana all alone.
--
when sana's thirty and thinking, "yeah, i am okay after all this time." she isn't. because her little girl has just run into you. and nearly hit her head, falling back. but with gentle and caring hands, you stand her back up. asking her daughter if she's alright. and as her daughter runs back to sana, sana can see you for the first time in five years.
your hair is longer, you look more tired, more lines on your face. but your eyes are still so wild, familiar eyes that she's found herself dreaming about for years. for five years to be exact, she dreams of you returning. so you walk up to sana and fuji, calm and collected about seeing them after five years.
but sana's panicking, like she's seen a ghost. you basically are a ghost in sana's life, she's been wondering lately if you really have been there in her life, if not for photos she really wonders if this is all a dream.
a dream that comes crashing down, you pick up a small girl, she's younger than sana's daughter. but she's got your wild eyes and cute nose. and sana thinks that she could die here. right now the rug could be pulled out from under her and she wouldn't utter a peep.
you have a daughter, and a wife. a gorgeous wife who smiles at you like how sana used to. and her eye line follows, you look your wife with the same passion of when you were both eighteen and far too stupid to understand anything in the world. you look at this woman like you used to look at sana.
"it's been a while." sana's voice cuts in. she needs to hear your voice after so long.
"yeah, i guess it has." you reply, finally looking at her after so long. sana gulps, willing the tears away. you sound the same, lighter than your last conversation, like you've made peace with it.
"honey, you're crying." fuji says wiping away sana's tear and you smile at that. like you've finally accepted fuji as her husband.
"oh i didn't notice." sana laughs, rapidly wiping her tears away. she's embarrassed, here she is thinking that you still love her, but you don't. not anymore.
sana tries her best to talk with fuji and momo. them talking about their line of work and interests. but sana can only stare at you.
eyes wide open.
--
a/n: i think im actually evil for writing this. like no joke. but anyways!! stay safe and stay healthy everyone!
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grandlinedreams · 7 months
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Hi hello unplanned acotar drabble bc I'm exhausted 'n why not use the 'can't sleep' trope? I don't remember if coffee is a thing in acotar but it is now
warnings: uhh poor sleeping habits, tiny touch of angst, reader is Made fae/archeron sibling, fluff
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You haven't been sleeping well.
Correction ㅡ you're not sure if you've ever slept well in your life, but you've been sleeping worse as of late.
As in not at all.
Not for lack of trying, quiet plea to Madja for a tonic or tips to help you sleep ㅡ all to no avail. And so you spend most nights wide awake, listening to the soft creak of the other inhabitants and staring up at the ceiling.
It isn't your favorite way to spend so much time given that there's only so much you can think of before you're sinking back into thoughts you've tried so hard to let go of. They cling to you like a second skin, seep and chill your bones like black, brackish water, like ㅡ
You quickly find other ways to occupy your time. Velaris' night sky is beautiful, patchwork blanket of deep blue with silver pinprick stars that you count, try to match constellations with ones you know, catalogued in worn paper from another lifetime. (That often spirals too.)
Perhaps the Cauldron feels bad for what has been done to you, or perhaps it's simply the house taking pity on you ㅡ but as of late when you drag yourself from your room and downstairs, there is a mug of warmth waiting for you.
Steam always curls from the top of it, dark liquid that eddies with just enough cream and sugar to make it pleasant. It chases away the sticky darkness of your thoughts, replaces it with a warmth that spirals from the inside out ㅡ a comfort, when so many things as of late have not been.
With that unspoken charm of warm ceramic at your fingers, you're more content to whittle the hours away in silence. You pretend that you've just woken up when someone else stirs ㅡ often times it's Nesta, who watches you for so long that you wonder if she knows. (She doesn't ask, and you don't tell. Maybe she doesn't have to, the other side of your coin.)
Tonight, however, is different.
Tonight you find yourself with an entirely different sort of company ㅡ in the form of sleek, wisps of shadow ㅡ alive, whirling gently against your cheek, your hair, your hands. And then they're gone, back to their master ㅡ who appears shortly after.
Azriel doesn't announce his presence, but he doesn't have to. You've gotten used to the fact that you can hear him now, can hear most everything ㅡ aware of more than you ever used to be.
All you do is allow the slide of your eyes over his face, his wings, his hands ㅡ and then away. "Good morning."
A flicker of amusement in the gleam of his eyes, the soft huff of air. "It's two in the morning."
You remain steadfast. "Still morning."
He doesn't push further as he approaches, and you can feel his eyes on you ㅡ the clothing you're still getting used to, a subtle opulence that still makes you feel untethered at times ㅡ and the mug nestled between your hands.
"Can't sleep?"
It's an innocent question, a gentle probe at where you are in terms of emotion ㅡ eggshell floor that tends to be how everyone walks around you, Nesta, and Elain as of late.
You shrug. "Something like that." You lapse into silence, and it's Azriel is turning to leave (presumably) that you speak. "I have...strange dreams. And if it isn't that, it's nightmares. So I figure thisㅡ" You gesture, "is better than either of those."
Azriel is silent long enough that you're beginning to feel stupid for saying anything ㅡ and then he says quietly, "May I show you something?"
The something ends up being the offer of taking you for a flight ㅡ only after Azriel has made sure that you're appropriately bundled before he lifts you into his arms. His scent that makes you think of pine and hoarfrost is almost overwhelming ㅡ but his wings are snapping out before you can change your mind, and then you're airborne.
This is so much different than what Feyre had called winnowing ㅡ wind whips at your face and hair, tangling it as you tuck yourself tighter against Azriel's chest. His grip is firm on you, not so much as to hurt or be inappropriate, but enough that you don't feel as though he's going to drop you.
The stars gleam above you, enticing you to look up at them ㅡ and with your face tucked so close to his neck, Azriel doesn't struggle to hear you when you speak.
"I managed to save some of the star charts in my father's office when we..." You trail off for a moment, uncertain of what all he knows from Feyre ㅡ and you point at the glittering cosmos above. "It looks the same."
"Is that a bad thing?"
You press your face against his shoulder, inhaling his pine scent. "No."
Azriel is quiet as he spares a glance at you. You're so very different than your sisters ㅡ not quite as wild as Feyre, nor as angry as Nesta, nor as quiet as Elain. He wishes he could say he doesn't remember much of watching each of you be tossed into the Cauldron ㅡ but he does, everything whispered to him by his shadows.
That you'd come out of it glowing ㅡ briefly, just enough to give the impression of a star, just like the ones above.
"Azriel?" Your call makes him look down, the flick of his eyes over the delicate arch of your ears, the reflection of starlight in your eyes that makes the beat of his wings falter for a brief second. "Will this get easier?"
He doesn't have to ask you what you mean. He could lie to you, placate you with empty words ㅡ but he can't bring himself to do that. So he tightens his grip just a little, tucks you a little firmer to him. "I hope so."
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galactic-rhea · 3 months
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It's ranting hours sunday for me: Y' know, I think when people complain soooo much about Padmé getting with Anakin, they're failing to see a lot of things. BUT ESPECIALLY...That it was her choice, and if speaks a lot of her character and personality.
She was already done dirty by the movies by getting so many deleted scenes, but then if you try to take away the agency she had on marrying a human disaster or her choices, like her forgiveness/understanding, it's actually undermining and flattening her character.
The fact is that she's actually very similar to Anakin, she's stubborn, deeply traumatized, compromises a lot for the sake of others and loves beyond reasoning. We, the audience, know that Anakin will become Darth Vader and one of the most iconic villains of history; so everything he does can be seem as a red flag that really isn't there.
From Padmé's POV, Anakin has done terrible things, but it's capable of incredible acts of love and compassion. They're in circumstances that aren't normal at all, she was queen at 14, and he was born a slave and joined the space wizard monks and his normal is kill or be killed. Our modern and omniscient POV can't be applied onto them because there's no point of comparison in this sci-fi-shakespearen tragedy-soap-opera-fantasy.
Besides...she was actually right in the end, and I don't believe is "feminist" or progressive to take away a big part of her core personality, that actually had repercussions in the whole story, and make her out to be either unaware and naive of marrying a monster, or (the worst one, imo) being jedi-mind-tricked-brainwashed-abused by her husband.
The "right, correct, girlboss and queen" actitude does more damage than help, leave Padmé to be a person. A person who wanted to have a fairytale romance with some guy who would fight for her and makes her laugh.
Also, the hell why you wanna blame her for something Anakin does, come on. That's a whole other can of worms, though. My point is, that trying to avoid or re-work-or re-contextualize the fact that she chose Anakin despite him literally telling her about murdering a whole village, is actually changing a big chunk of her personality traits.
She was a child queen, then a politician at the edge of an inminent war, manipulated by the same guy that groomed Anakin into a massive murderer, saw her people being taken into camps, had assasination attempts weekly and had to rip off of her individualism by becoming a public figure, giving up her sense of being a person by having several almost identical decoys, she had to stop being just Padmé to be Queen and then Senator Amidala and she did all of that showing little to no emotion.
Then Anakin does all what she herself had to rip off of her in order to be a politician: Honest, passionate, and able to show emotions; like love or anger.
She has morals and she represents democracy and justice, in a way. But I fully believe that inside her she had the same passionate anger and love capable of burning the galaxy that we know Anakin had, which makes them different sides of the same coin, and I think she realized that. Anakin perhaps didn't , as he never stopped of seeing himself as a slave and therefore inferior, whereas he held Padmé very highly, but I think Padmé saw them both as equals. She didn't have a "I can fix him" mentality, she had a "We're the same, we're both lonely, confused, hurting and scared of losing everything. And if he's like me, then I know he can do the right thing for love."
In other words: She was as insane as her husband, she only seems normal because she wasn't put into the monk warrior order and groomed by the devil for over a decade. (And I don't mean insane as, 'she's crazy for loving a murderer' harley quinn style, I just meant it on a daring, hopeless romantic and tenacious way)
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rosesdrop · 3 months
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Pick a pile
Their feelings for you
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Pile 1:
This person wants you to forgive them; they want to restore balance once again in this relationship. They want you to be as caring and excited for them as you were before. They know that you are interested in other things currently and that your thoughts are not all about them; sometimes they think that you have forgotten about them. They believe that you are intentionally putting limits and barriers between you. They want you to give them another chance and to reevaluate the situation once again. They want you two to discuss this disagreement and then try to find a solution that suits you both. They don't want either of you to be forced to do something or be misunderstood by the other; therefore, being victims of this whole dynamic, they want both of you to be fulfilled and have your needs met equally. They honestly have good intentions and seem mature in the way they solve disputes. They do care about you and your happiness. They are not deceitful; whatever they say is what they truly mean. 
Pile 2:
This person could be harsh with their words, and the way they speak is explosive. They're easily triggered, and they feel like you trigger them easily. They think that you don't think before speaking, and this sometimes hurts their pride. They don't know what to do about this connection or how to handle it properly. They act out of impulse and end up creating a lot of problems; they always seem to come up with a new disaster; they're troublesome and foggy-minded. They're almost like a child who needs guidance on what to do all the time. They don't know how to make decisions. They end up frustrating a lot of people because of this. The way they feel about you is very superficial. They keep creating an image of you that makes them act a certain way according to it. They live in their heads. You might feel like you're dealing with a wall. They do whatever is in their heads without considering anything else. They were used to being this way, and they want to say that it's hard for them to change. They're terrified of change, and they feel like you are triggering them in that way. 
Pile 3:
They have known you for a while, they feel a sense of familiarity with you, you make them feel comfortable, and they honestly feel like you are some kind of soulmate to them or that you are meant to be together. If it's a friend or someone from your family that you're asking about, then you are the person that they like the most and feel very close to. They feel like you two are similar in plenty of things and that you are two sides of the same coin, they truly adore you. If it's a romantic situation, then they feel like you are their future spouse or something. Or that you are their dream person. They can see themselves doing everything with you; you two get along very well. A sense of peace and happiness encompasses them when you're together; they truly never get enough of your company. They may sometimes be self-doubtful and feel like they are not enough for you. Or that you wouldn't see them as greatly as they see you. They have their doubts about this. They don't know for sure if you think of them the way they do; they could only guess by the great chemistry and compatibility between you, but it's not enough to cease their self-conscious thoughts. They wish you could be more affectionate towards them because they're not very sure of themselves; they doubt things a lot, so they want you to assure them and show love towards them more often. They would be really happy, and this would ease their worries a lot.
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tofics · 4 months
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The Other Side to The Coin
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader
Part 2 to Almost Like You Need Someone (Dean's POV)
Summary: You, Dean and Sam are fighting America's monsters together. Coming from a long line of hunters, you fit right in with the Winchester boys, despite having been raised entirely different from the two. Where you were brought up with love and care, John raised Sam and Dean with rules and obedience. Seeing what Dean does for the world, you decide it's time that he gets his own share of love...
A/N: Almost Like You Need Someone was supposed to be a one-shot but was so well received that I decided to continue it! There will be a part 3, which both part 1 and 2 are leading up to. A ✨finale✨, if you will. For now, here's the reader's POV, sprinkled with Sam's POV. I hope you enjoy! PS: Thank you to @deans-spinster-witch for the idea of Sam deliberately losing to Dean so Dean could share the bed with the reader 🥰
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Living with the Winchester boys is easy.
Granted, you get along with almost anybody due to your good-natured spirit. You have a smile that radiates warmth and kindness, a two-lipped greeting that promises the receiver that they are truly welcome. In return, you've been welcomed pretty much anywhere you went.
So it's no surprise that you've bonded with Sam and Dean as easily as you have. You knew of them only by name before you went on a case with them. Despite being a long-time friend to your family and theirs, Bobby Singer didn't speak much about the Winchesters. Two boys raised on the road by a single dad, out for revenge on the demon that took his wife and their mother. That's all you knew.
When he sent you to help out with a case, you arrived with no expectations. "I told 'em not to underestimate you. Don't let those two idjits undersell you. They do good work, but they can be a lil' wary of strangers," Bobby had warned you, but they'd given you no trouble. To your delight, the brothers were not only easy to work with, they were also very easy on the eyes. Not a requirement when it came to who you chose to work with, but it didn't hurt either.
Three months later, you've become a regular passenger in the Winchester's Impala. Despite being an able-driver, you tend to leave the driving to the boys, preferring to take up residence in the backseat. Back there, you're free to pass the hours by entertaining the brothers or getting some shut-eye. It beats fighting with Dean over who gets to pick the music or having Sam snore in your ear from behind you.
You're good to them, and they're good to you. No matter how many times you argue that if you can sleep in the backseat of the Impala, you can definitely take the sofa now and then, they refuse to let you sleep anywhere but the beds of the hotel rooms you secure for a night or two. It would be patronizing if you didn't know any better. You have your love-languages, and they have theirs.
One of Sam's is bringing you back books from the library that he thinks you'll enjoy. Dean always cleans your gun along with his own, making sure it's well-kept and in perfect condition for when you need it. In return, you make sure the boys are fed, getting something healthy for Sam and yourself while picking up a pastry for Dean's breakfast instead.
You find that it's a little easier to get on Sam's good side. In comparison, Dean is a little more closed off, a little more reserved, but you can tell it's got nothing to do with yourself and everything with how they were raised. Over time, you learn about their dark past, about Mary's death and John's need for revenge that led all three of them on the hunter's path. It's mostly Sam who shares these stories with you, although you sometimes manage to get Dean talking too. When he does, it's earnest, albeit short-worded. He often turns the conversation around and instead asks you about your past. He seems fascinated with the way you were brought up and you can hardly blame him. You grew up in the hunter's life alright, but your childhoods couldn't have been any more different.
For starters, both of your parents are still alive and well. You never had to endure the loss of a parental figure, not as a child, nor in recent years, thankfully. But it's more than that. From Sam's tales and what little Dean shares with you, you can't help but feel a tinge of resentment towards the Winchester father. As a child of parents who made sure to equip you with all the necessary tools needed to survive in a world full of monsters, it's beyond you how John drilled his boys to be hunters, yet seemingly neglected the mental aspect of it. For as long as you could remember, your parents had sat down with you and talked you through the emotional turmoil that inevitably came with the field; the bloodshed and the death. From what you could gather, talking about it had never been part of the Winchester schedule. Instead, it looked like Dean in particular had taken on a coping mechanism that was rather popular in the hunter's field, the tried-and-true method of D&D: denial and drinking.
Your heart aches when you see how the job sometimes eats at him. Where you allow yourself to feel for the families of the victims you come across, he rarely gives in to the sympathy he feels for those left behind. On one particular case, a boy is left without his mother after a vampire gets to her before you can. You hold the boy as he weeps for his mother, smoothly rocking him back and forth as tears roll down your own cheeks, unable to hold them back. All of that terror and grief in such a little body; it's heart-wrenching. When you look up at Dean, you see your own feelings mirrored back in his eyes and you can't help but also cry for the little boy who lost his own mother in 1983.
You develop something of a soft spot for the older Winchester brother. It's less out of pity and more out of determination to ensure that the young man gets what he deserves. At not even thirty years old, he's encountered thrice the amount of terror that an average man faces in a lifetime. Beyond his own loss, he continually fights what lurks in the dark so that others don't have to face the same fate as he did. Unlike yourself, he was never given the choice to step into the role of a hunter. John assigned it to him and he dutifully slipped it on, accepting the burden without any questions asked. He shows an unwavering devotion to giving protection to those who need it without ever stopping to think about what he needs. Having been raised with a keen sense of justice, the imbalance of this set-up doesn't sit right with you. And so you quietly decide to embark on your own little mission: Give back to Dean Winchester what he gives the world.
It's easier said than done though. You soon learned that Dean is a natural flirt. Where your charm is mostly kindness, his is saturated to the brim with flirtatious banter. You see waitress after waitress fall for it, witness young women at the bar turn their heads when he walks by and swoon when he winks at him. Sometimes, when he's in a really good mood, you're at the receiving end of his allure. An approving glance up and down your body before the three of you venture out to the local pub turns into attentive gazes throughout the night, served with a sly grin. It makes your stomach flutter when you feel his eyes trailing you through the crowd. Heat seeps into your cheeks when he shimmies past you at the pool table, the skin of his arm gently brushing against yours. "S'cuse me, sweetheart," he'll say and the use of the nickname will tug at something so delicious in your tummy that you have to bite down on your lip to contain your smile. On these nights, it seems impossibly easy to get close to Dean if you wanted to, although it's not strictly the kind of close you intend for. To say you're not attracted to Dean would be a lie, but it's not your mission to give him seven minutes in heaven. Your mission's goal is long-term happiness, not a brief one achieved with both of your pants down around your ankles.
The Dean of those nights stands in contrast to the day-to-day version you're usually travelling with. Where he's not afraid to brush up against you in a full pub, he'll tense up when you cuddle up against him in your sleep. It's noticeable enough for you to register in your sleepy-state and you try to stay on your side of the bed afterwards. Naturally being a touchy person, you try to keep your body contact to Sam, leaning against him on the couch as the three of you are watching a movie. Much to your surprise, Dean nudges at your leg that's tucked under you. "C'mon," he says and cocks his head to the side. "Get comfortable." You search for his eyes, a silent question of 'Are you sure?' but he just cocks his head again and gives you a small smile, so you comply and stretch your leg out over his lap. You don't fully relax into the position for a few minutes, unsure if he's truly comfortable with it, until he rests an arm on your knee and shin while his other arm props his head up on the armrest of the couch. From that day on, this arrangement becomes your standard for movie nights: Sam to your left, Dean on your right, a head on Sam's shoulder and one or two legs stretched out over Dean.
It's small wins like this that make you feel like you're slowly working your way through the outer layers of Dean's shell. What you belatedly realize is that in the process of working through his exterior, he worked himself through yours with ease. It only becomes apparent to you when, during another night at another bar, you suddenly feel a little sting at the sight of Dean talking to another woman rather flirtatiously. The sensation is so out-of-the-blue for you that for a moment, you're more surprised than anything else. How did you fall in love with the older Winchester brother without even noticing it? Sam notices the puzzled look on your face. "You good?" he asks, amusement showing in his voice. You quickly shake yourself to rid yourself of your trance and give a little laugh. "All good," you say and take a sip of your drink before glancing over at Dean again. What you don't realize is that your glance doesn't go unnoticed by Sam, who smiles knowingly to himself.
Having known his brother for all his life, he's noticed the shift in his brother way before you did. He'd had his suspicions, but it took a particularly rough case for Dean's intentions to become clear to Sam. The detour Dean made you guys take so you could have your spirits lifted by a litter of puppies was all Sam needed to have his suspicions confirmed: love has sprouted between his two travel companions.
He gets first row tickets to the spiel that unfolds itself in front of him in the following weeks. It's comical, the way you and Dean dance around each other, afraid to give too much away, unaware that you're both on the same page. The two of you steal glances at each other, but it goes unnoticed by either of you. Sam purposely chooses the seat diagonally from either you or Dean, leaving the space opposite and next to whoever sits down first open, so that the both of you are forced to sit across or besides each other. He can see the math both of you are doing in your heads, not wanting to appear too eager to sit beside each other, painfully unaware of the shared wish of closeness that lingers between the two of you.
As much as he's rooting for both of you to become aware of each other's feelings, he doesn't say anything. He figures they're not his words to say, that inevitably, the penny will drop eventually for one of you. Instead, he aids the process in any way that he can. He suggests you and Dean talk to a victim's friend while he'll speak to the professor you guys think could help you on your case. When it comes to the nightly routine of 'rock, paper, scissors' to decide which of the brothers gets the other side of the bed, he purposely loses to Dean now and then. Other times, he offers to go and get dinner while you two remain at the motel, working on the research.
Weeks pass, and you carry your love around with you like a little secret, a hidden necklace that you tuck back into your shirt when it accidentally slips out. You're oblivious to the fact that Dean's wearing the counterpart to your necklace, his tag molded to fit yours seamlessly. Sometimes, you think you get a glimpse of it. A hand on your lower back that lingers a little too long in place when he squeezes past you. A line of concern on his forehead, deeper than warranted by the small wound on you that he's patching up.
Sam sees these things and watches you write them off as platonic affection. He watches and waits, silently waiting for either of you to realize that in your case, both sides of the coin are one and the same.
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Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way. I'm always happy to practice my writing! :)
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myfavoritesstuff · 5 months
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So there was this dialogue about Z's choice of dress, pointing towards the "weird body modifications to his teeth" and y/n said she wonders, "if they hurt?" I knooow she might've meant it must have been painful for him to get his teeth like that but, what if we took it the other way? What if she unconsciously voiced this thought in another situation? Would they really hurt? A neck bite? Smut please.
Embrace of Shadows
Pairing: Z (from Favor) x Reader
Prompt: How did it lead to this? Being curious leads to something more.
Note: This is a smut! I hope I understood this request correctly. Sorry if I didn’t, but either way, I had a lot of fun writing this. Please read all the way through, it gets better, I promise! NOT PROOFREAD
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I wonder if they hurt…
"Curious, aren't you?" Z's voice was a whisper, “why do you stare at my teeth?"
You blushed, realizing you had been caught. "I apologize," you stammered. "It's just...they're so different. I've never seen teeth like yours."
Z tilted their head, studying you with eyes that seemed to pierce their very soul. "Sharp teeth are a necessity for survival," they said. "For feeding. For protection."
Your heartbeat quickened. "Would it hurt?" they blurted out. "If you were to bite me?"
Z's lips curved into a half-smile. "Ah, the curiosity of mortals," they murmured. "You wonder about pain, about pleasure. About surrender."
Your mind raced. They hadn't meant to reveal such thoughts, but now the question hung in the air like a forbidden fruit. "Would it?" You pressed, their heart now pounding in their chest.
Z got up from the opposite side of the table and stepped closer, their breath cool against your skin. "Pain and pleasure," they whispered. "Two sides of the same coin. To be bitten by a demon is to dance on the precipice of both."
Your heart still pounded. You should run, flee from this dangerous allure. But something held you in place—the pull of forbidden desire, the thrill of surrendering to the unknown.
And then Z's lips brushed against your neck, and all rational thought fled. Their teeth sank into your flesh—not cruelly, but with a hunger that ignited every nerve. Pain flared, then melted into something else—an ache that bordered on ecstasy.
You gasped, your fingers tangling in Z's hair.
You could feel Z start to bite a little harder, starting to drink from them, drawing sustenance from their life force, and you surrendered willingly, lost in a dance of pleasure and pain.
When Z finally pulled away, You swayed a bit, dizzy and sated. Their neck bore twin punctures, a mark of Z's possession.
“Z…” You let out a soft whisper.
“Y/n…” his voice was deep. Your breath caught in your throat as Z pressed their body closer to yours. Z’s touch ignited a fire within you that threatened to consume everything.
“Y/n” they whispered, “keep your eyes on me, okay? I only need you to see and think only of me.”
A devilish smirk made its way onto their face. “You think you can do that, darling?”
Swallowing, you nodded. Their smirk turned into a small smile. “Good because after tonight, I won’t ever let you go or see anyone else with those precious eyes of yours.”
Z’s words made you feel warm inside. You never had someone talk to you this way before. Your thoughts were interrupted by Z speaking once more.
“I’m going to be taking what’s mine now. I hope you’re up for a few rounds.”
Your face flushed at their words, yet you did not stop them when they grabbed you by the arm and turned you around so you were facing the table. Their claw-like nails then proceeded to rip your clothing apart, leaving you exposed for them to see.
While the air was cold, your body felt hot. Just imagining the things Z could do to you made you feel excited. Z then began to strip themself of their own clothing. Once fully striped you could feel them start to trace their fingers along your body. You shivered as Z’s fingers started to travel lower.
“I want to taste you so badly”. As they said that, they kneeled down with one hand pushing you down so your ass was spread for them.
Their fingers made their way down to your hole, and started circling it. You gasped as they then stuck their forked tongue into your hole, stimulating the area inside. You grasped onto the table, as your legs started to shake from the pleasure you felt. Their tongue worked wonders as all you could do was grip onto the table.
Z seemed to notice this, for they suddenly pulled themselves away from your hole, stood up and turned you around. They then started to passionately kiss you and their hands made their way under your legs, signaling you to wrap yourself around his waist.
Your mind was in a haze. All you could focus on was him. Suddenly you felt something around your hole once more. As you felt them slip in, your immediately clenched around them. Groaning in response to you, they gripped hard on your legs, making you gasp.
They took this opportunity to slip their tongue into your mouth, making its way around your own tongue and to the back of your throat.
You slightly gagged on it but didn’t mind as you were overcome with an immense amount of pleasure.
Their thrusts hadn’t helped either as their hips angled themselves to hit a certain spot inside. Feeling the way their cock spread you open had you moaning their name. It was almost as if they were shaping your inside to the shape of them.
Your eyes rolled back as you felt an intense sensation wash over you. Moaning out their name again, you felt yourself come down from your high. Z however did stop, in fact; they kept going and increased their pace, trying to reach what you felt moments ago.
Whining from overstimulation you placed your head on their chest, letting them continue with their pace until they eventually reached their end. And it wasn’t long after until Z did. However once they were finished, you could feel a trail of their cum going down your leg.
You heard them make a sound of displeasure as they started thrusting back into you pumping the cum back into your hole. You gasped as you groaned from the pleasure that started to build up again, and you gently grabbed onto his shoulder.
“I hope you weren’t thinking that I was done with you, cause I told you that we were going for a few rounds.”
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avonne-writes · 1 month
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NSFW headcanons: John and Gale's fantasies and kinks (HS AU)*
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*non-exhaustive list 😉
1. In high school
John
A lot of his fantasies are centered around sports. Having sex in the locker room after a game when everything smells like sweat, sports equipment and grass. Getting off under the bleachers. Fucking Gale while Gale's wearing his soccer jersey, going down on Gale and tracing the tan line drawn by Gale's swim trunks with his lips.
He’s also into exhibitionism and fantasizes about doing it in all sorts of public places, like in a park or at school. He wants to be recorded too. He might even convince Gale to let him take a video of Gale's hand as he gives him a handjob.
Speaking of handjobs, he loves Gale's slender but strong hands, he loves holding them, playing with them, sucking on Gale’s fingers, having them squeeze Bucky's neck/thighs/shoulders. He imagines all sorts of wild fantasies involving those hands.
He has a fantasy of being a sex god or sex android - basically, just being impossibly good at sex - having insane stamina and knowing how to do things just right without ever even having sex. While touching himself in the shower, he often imagines Gale buying him in some sci-fi universe and him blowing Gale's mind with his extraordinary performance.
Gale
Teen Gale doesn’t even have the slightest clue that these things might be related, but he fantasizes about: having sex in complete darkness, being wrapped in latex except for key body parts, giving a blowjob while covered by a blanket, being separated from his lower half by a wall so that he can’t anticipate what's coming, having sex in space... These are all facets of the sensory deprivation kink he discovers later, when he's much older.
He dreams of having sex in the wilderness, in forests, lakes or meadows. The sense of serenity and freedom really appeals to him. When this fantasy collides with Bucky's exhibitionism and their camping trip during the summer between high school and college, they attempt a blowjob in the forest.
Gale likes biting, both being bitten and marked up and doing it himself. There’s a phase in their relationship when he and Bucky are constantly at it, leaving hickeys and bite marks everywhere until it gets too embarrassing. Gale enjoys the idea that someone wants him enough to be possessive with him.
Teen Gale is also very love-starved, so no matter how dirty or wild his fantasies become while he’s jerking off, just before he comes, his mind often jumps to the idea of making love. To casual, regular sex - actually, often outright marital sex. Having a husband and having sex with him is a peak fantasy for him.
They both have an authority kink from opposite sides of the coin, so it works out perfectly, but they keep this in their own fantasies until college. Bucky wants to be a good boy and be of service, Gale likes to be called sir, he likes to tease and feel needed. Calling each other daddy is a squick for them though.
2. Later life
Authority kink (see above). They do this kind of power play frequently just before their conflict at 30 gets bad.
Sensory deprivation for Gale: he loves everything ranging from shimmying under the blanket to give Bucky a blowjob to headphones+blindfold+being told not to move. Also likes temperature play and mild tickling.
Bucky definitely gets his soccer jersey fantasy fulfilled and probably some others too. Sports continue to arouse him and give him dirty ideas.
From his mid-twenties, Bucky starts developing a breeding kink, which gets increasingly stronger over the years. Talks about it a lot during sex, but when they start fighting about having kids together, Gale stops letting him do it.
As a combination of the sensory kink and his domesticity kink, Gale loves sex when they don’t say anything to each other because they're comfortable and know each other enough that they don’t need words.
They also start roleplaying regularly, which is a fun way to spice up their sex life and to pretend that they've had sex with other people too, not just each other.
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spidernuggets · 9 months
Text
Anon asked: ive always had the thought that jason is an extream romantic, especially so when he was younger. I present jason seing reader and thinking she (or he or they) are the most beutiful person in the world But would he pine silently? Or do everything in his power to make them fall in love w him?
Jason Todd x Reader
"Eventually"
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Dick was only supposed to take him to the cafe for a quick break. Never in a million years would he think he'd lock eyes with someone he'd want to be a part of their life with. And that's exactly what happened that day.
"Can we make this quick? l'm behind on training, Jason grumbles. Dick scoffs in response
"Calm down, we 'll be quick. Hi, yeah, I'll just get an Americano, thanks.'
"Of course," you reply. "And for you?" You ask towards Jason.
Jason's head lifts up and stares at the pretty person in front of him and suddenly he forgets how to speak.
Jason does NOT believe in love at first sight. He'd ever fully love someone romantically until he believes that both parties of the relationship have full devotion to each other.
No, he doesn't believe in love at first sight. The person standing in front of him just happens to be someone he'd like to get to know more.
"Uh.. sir?" You call out to him as Dick turns his headtowards him in confusion
Jason shakes his head. "Uhm... sorry, I'll just get an iced hazelnut coffee, I guess," he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear.
"Perfect.. I'lI call out your orders when they're ready,' you tell the two men as they nod and step to the side. Dick paid both orders with his card and put a couple of coins into the tips jar.
Once they both got their orders, they both thanked you. Jason let Dick walk away first before seeing that you had you back turned, making another order.
He didn't know what he was thinking, but he just got the urge to quickly walk to your tip jar and place two 20 bills in.
When you finished your shift and counted up your tips, you couldn't believe that someone would've placed a 40 in. Or maybe 2 people placed a 20 each? Who knows. But you were happy nonetheless
Ever since Jason first unofficially met you, he's been visiting the cafe on his own a couple of times every 2 weeks or so. Then, the visits once every week, then twice every week. Now, Jason visits the cafe every chance he gets. And he realises it may seem stalker-ish, but he's had a grasp of your roster patterns and only shows up to the cafe when you're working.
And you've noticed it, too. And so has your coworkers. After his first visit, you told one of your coworkers the next day about the cute guy you ordered one of your favourite drinks.
And when one of your other coworkers was going over security footage to see who was nicking a cookie or two from the pastry shelf, she reported to you that it was Jason who left the two 20 bills in your tip jar. And you swear you got a heart palpitation.
When you see Jason walking up to the cafe through the windows, your heart sped up, and you get excited and start making his usal hazelnut iced coffee.
When he walks to your counter, you place his drink in front of him.
"Hazelnut iced coffee?" You smile towards him as he returns the grin.
"Know me so well," he replies, taking the drink and placing a 50 in its place.
As you go get his change, he shakes his head. "Just keep the change, sweetheart," he says as your eyes widen.
"What?? No! That's like a 1000% tip!" You exclaim worringly.
And Jason laughs. "It's fine, plently more where that came from, Y/n."
Your brows pinch in confusion as you look down, remembering your nametag.
You lightly scoff and roll your eyes and shook your head. "I don't care, here," you say, handing him his change.
"Fine. How bout I use this money to take you on a date then?" He asks.
You hesitate. Sure, the guy's cute, but... you don't even know him..
"I'm busy," you impulsively say, mentally slapping yourself for the lame response.
"I never said when."
"Busy anyway, tight schedule."
"Liar, you know I'm always here when your working."
"Yeah, I know.."
"I know you know."
"Shut up," you say, and you couldn't help but smile at the small banter between the two of you.
Luckily it was a quiet day and there was no line.
"I don't even know your name," you proudly say.
"It's Jason. And fine. How 'bout," Jason takes a napkin and writes down his number. "Friends. For now. And I take you on a date."
You think for a moment before agreeing. "Eventually," you say, not wanting to be too quick into dating some guy.
"Eventually," Jason repeats.
"But!" You say. "No more massive tips. I'm not going on a date with someone who flaunts money," you condition.
He nods in response. Jason raises his coffee as a salute goodbye. "Eventually," He bids a farewell as he walks out.
"Eventually," you quietly say to yourself, excited to see how this friendship would bloom.
From your condition alone, Jason realises you'd prefer handmade or cheaper gifts rather than grand gestures or expensive offerings.
One time, during the first few weeks that he visited the cafe, he noticed a copy of Little Women behind you.
So you were somewhat into classic literature.
He prepares a little note for you in replace for the cash tip.
When he gets his drink, he pays and puts that note in your tip jar.
You take it out and read it when he leaves.
Be the Amy to my Laurie? ;) it read.
The next time Jason visited you, he placed a red rose in your jar, and this gesture definitely made you blush.
After a month or so of him olacing cute notes and small gifts in you jar, you finally accept his proposal of a date.
And soon, the two of you became an official couple. This was the point where Jason became more of a romantic than usual.
He recited poems and sonnets. Wrote love quotes from his favourite classic novels, putting it in your bag before you headed for work. He made sure you knew his love and affection he has towards you every day.
And sometimes, he'd feel a little cheeky and slip a 50 'tip' in your wallet when you're not looking.
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I'm so sorry that this is probably short and lame, Anon, I had so many technical difficulties with this 😭
I based this mainly on Titans!Jason Todd, since he m seems to be more flirty and expressive than other Jason Todds I've seen.
I wasn't sure how to incorporate this into a fic, but I'd think that firstly, when he first sees you, he definitely wants to know you more, but based on his background, he doesn't wanna scare you away, so he silently pines in the background before having the courage to make a move.
I will take to my grave that he recites book quotes and poems cuz he's our little theatre nerd.
In my opinion, when Jason first sees someone, he wouldn't fall for them or anything like that. I'd think that if he hangs out with them enough, then he'd start to have a crush on them.
But when he finally realises he loves them, he loves them HARD. Like he can't imagine a life with anyone else but you.
Thanks so much for the request, Anon. Have a great day!
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demonpiratehuntress · 6 months
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hiii! it’s the autistic anon,, i hope it’s okay if i try requesting smth a little easier to write? i was thinking maybe smth like Law and reader aren’t dating yet, maybe reader joined the crew not too long ago and so is still quiet and shy around everyone. but one day Law notices her reading a comic book he likes and strikes up a conversation about it and maybe that leads to him finding out they’re really similar in some ways? like both have a coin and comic book collection, both love tattoos, and reader even wanted to be a nurse but just didn’t have the resources for it. Law kind of develops a crush from there and u can decide how he handles it and whether or not he even realizes he has a crush at first. and i don’t mind what format either, it can be headcanons or a fic or anything! and i just want to say thank u for taking time out of your busy schedule to write for us, i love your writing and look forward to your posts everyday! i hope your day is great!! <3
hello again! of course, i'm open to a lot of other ideas :) this sounds so cute and sweet, i can definitely write this! thank you for requesting again :D i chose headcanons because they're more fun to write lol. I hope you like it!
taglist - @kabloswrld
two peas in a pod
Trafalgar Law x F!Reader
summary - the cute scenario described in the ask :)))
warnings - none
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You'd always wanted to become a pirate, ever since you were little
So when Law and his crew showed up at your little island and stopped at your village to replenish their supplies - and apparently take down bandits that were terrorising you - you took the opportunity
At first Law was sceptical, wondering what you brought to his crew, but after your first venture with them he realised you could be useful, not only as a fighter but also another medic, one with more nurturing qualities and a softer touch
He would never admit it, but he was jealous of how the crew immediately went to you for help now
But after a while Law himself warmed up to you as well, and found himself seeking your company more and more often
He knew very well he could fix himself up, but chose to come to you instead just to have an excuse to talk to you and maybe learn more about you
Despite interacting with the crew for medicinal purposes, you were still shy and reserved, only speaking when you needed to
You were surprised when Law walked into your room one day, claiming that he needed your help determining what kind of sickness he was developing (he was not sick)
He caught you in your free time, so you were reading a favourite comic of yours, a secret you had managed to keep from everyone for so long - until now
"What's that?"
"Hmm? Oh, this? Nothing.."
You hid the comic behind your back, hoping Law would drop it and just focus on his non-existent sickness, but luck was not on your side today
His brows furrowed in concentration, before his eyes lit up in a way you'd never seen before
"I know that comic!"
"Wh-what? No you don't..."
"Surely you're not telling me I wouldn't recognise the cover of my favourite comic book, (Name)-ya..."
"O-of course not! I just didn't think..."
You trailed off as Law took a seat directly next to you, plucking the comic from your hands
He begins to flick through the pages with you sitting so stiff and awkwardly beside him
Eventually you relax and attempt to initiate a discussion about it with him
Which turns into a full debate over your favourite characters
You've never had this much fun talking about something before
And your captain seems so much more relaxed and at ease, and he's even SMILING as he talks
The conversation slowly goes from the comic to other shared interests between the two of you, such as his coin collection - he was visibly stunned to find out you had one too - and your desire to become a nurse, something medical-related
Law was surprised to hear that you wanted to be a nurse
Not because you didn't have the skills for it, you definitely did, but because you had chosen to become a pirate instead
When he asked what changed your mind, something weird happened in his chest when your answer was "i didn't have the opportunity or the resources in my small village...but also...you"
He didn't know what that feeling was, but he kind of liked it?
From then on, Law took every opportunity he could to talk to you about both your coin collections, your medical knowledge and your shared interest in that comic
He wanted to know why he was feeling this way, and hoped talking to you more would help him understand
But now he was just craving your presence, craving your voice and the way you passionately spoke about your interests
It wouldn't be a good day if Law hadn't gotten the chance to see or speak to you
And it was frustrating him that he couldn't figure out why he felt this way about you, and why he treated you differently to his other crewmates
Then Shachi and Penguin teased him about being in love with you
And suddenly it made sense
But for the first time ever, Law was terrified, because he didn't know what to do, this was not his forte
So obviously, he needed help, and since Shachi and Penguin were doing nothing but teasing him, he went to Bepo
You were completely oblivious to what he and Bepo were planning, thinking they were just planning the crew's next island stop
You were also oblivious to Law's feelings - mostly because he hid it well - but were completely aware of your own feelings for him
And you tried to hide it, you really did, but everyone could see the way your eyes softened when he walked into the room or spoke to you directly, the way your cheeks reddened when he complimented you or said something nice, the way you always seemed even more shy and flustered around him
Even Law noticed
But for a long time he debated whether or not to actually go through with his Bepo's plan to ask you out
He took so long that you almost gave up on him entirely
But when he did finally approach you, it was so worth it
He had planned a very romantic dinner in his room - candlelit and everything
He was so nervous the entire time, only slightly comforted by the fact that you looked nervous as well
"You look nice"
"Oh, um, thanks. So do you"
It is SO awkward for a few minutes, as you both just look at each other or the food
You decide to break the silence since it seems like Law never will
"If this is too uncomfortable, I can-"
"No!" He jumps to say, then clears his throat. "I mean, I'd like you to stay. I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this."
So you stay, and you're patient with him as he works up the nerve to tell you how he feels
In the end, you tell him you feel the same way, and like a movie, you close the date with a sweet, slow kiss - both yours and Law's pace
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