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#siding fic
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I am so unbelievably sorry about this one. Read the CW in the chapter notes, I beg.
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kvetchinglyneurotic · 5 months
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unstoppable force (desire to write) vs immovable object (tired)
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kyouka-supremacy · 2 months
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Good to know Chuuya is Dazai's personal rubber duck
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ghost-bxrd · 6 months
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Prompt:
After Jason’s resurrection he finds that his body works… wrong somehow.
Some days he forgets to breathe until he wants to say something and finds there’s no air in lungs. Other days his body goes eerily cold until someone points out that his lips are blue and he needs to warm up.
And some days his heart stops beating in his sleeps.
It’s fine, really. It always starts again eventually a short while after he wakes up. And yeah, of course it was a bit scary the first couple times it happened but it’s not like his resurrection and Pit-dip came with an instruction manual, so this is probably pretty normal stuff, all things considered. He is kind of the definition of “undead”.
The real trouble starts when he forgets to mention those little details to the Batfamily when he stays over for the night.
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queerdraws · 3 months
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Fanart for a snippet of my most favorite heartbreaking moment from swordsmans's fic bone-breaker ospreys mate for life (rated E)
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camembri · 4 months
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you wanted zoro to be on whole cake island to fulfil your weird desire to see zoro punish sanji. I wanted zoro on whole cake island because I think he's stupid enough to right place wrong time the plan and accidentally marry Sanji in full view of the whole wedding party in what becomes the most elaborately constructed comedy of errors ever written. we are NOT the same.
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tenowls · 8 months
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teacher getou au...... wauh
#jujutsu kaisen#geto suguru#gojo satoru#itadori yuuji#kugisaki nobara#fushiguro megumi#teacher getou au#satosugu#fanart#very funny how gojo leaves both yuuji and yuuta on their first mission hssdjshjdd#i know hes technically watching but. these kids do not know anything abt jujutsu at that point and theyre also KIDS. worst teacher HKSDKSD#anyway. been trying to look for fics but haven’t been able to find one i wanna read so i was like ok I’ll do it myself#however i am not a good writer so. DRAWINGS OF RANDOM LITTLE SCENES WILL HAVE TO DO#i want a plot focused fic w a side of shipping…. blease if anyone out there has any recs#as in like. the shipping written in a way that’s relevant to the plot#i want to see the rammies explored. yknowyknow#what happened differently in the aftermath of rikos death to make getou want to be a teacher instead#how is jjk0 different without him as the main antagonist and who does kenjaku take as a host#how does shibuya play out#how are both he and gojo different as characters#having grown up into adulthood together#getou as gojo’s moral compass etc#YKNOWYKNOW#i am aware that to explore all of that would be a monster of a fic which is probably why it does not exist (to my knowledge) but#IF THERES ANY FICS OUT THERE THAT EXPLORE EVEN SOME OF IT. PLEASE SEND THEM MY WAY#EVEN A FUN LITTLE CASEFIC WHERE THEY GO ON A QUICK MISSION OR SMTH#AS LONG AS THERES PLOT#another theoretical fic i would like to read is canonverse post-shibuya but like with a plot that makes sense#jjk my favourite mediocre shounen battle manga. could be so much better. has anyone attempted this#that one post thats like im not a hater im a dismayer. thats me
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pointyfruit · 9 months
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Solar Lunacy.
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Astarion Jealousy Part 2
The graphic extension to this but a lil less serious and definitely not sfw.
CW: Jealous spawn astarion who is still a sweetheart, but the drow twins get under his skin. graphic sex scenes, oral, relatively tame honestly. The sex part will be under the cut btw which is m/f. Also vampire man drinks blood. mentionable incorrect language for sex workers
~
It was odd, being home in Baldur’s Gate without the threat of Cazador always looming. Odd, but equally as wonderful. It had been so thoughtful, if not a little idiotic for Cazador to end up being your first stop in the city. The fight itself had been a blur, a barrage of intense emotions and bloody violence. Astarion had come so close to losing himself back there, losing everything that made him better than the man who almost ruined him. But then… you stopped him. You saw something more in him, a chance for a better life. A more meaningful life, away from the shackles of vampiric power obsessions. 
He was officially free. Now he could exist without any fear of his disgusting master’s retribution. He could just… be. Well… not including his darling’s own myriad of enemies that seemed to follow them about everywhere. And there was still the matter of defeating the elder brain, and lord knows if any of you made it through that alive. But at least his personal demons were slain and out of the picture.
Every little step counted after all. Perhaps some of your delusional hopefulness had finally started to rub off on him, but Astarion was actually starting to look forward to his future. Your future, together. All he had to do was get through a few more perilous adventures and then he’d really have you all to himself. 
All that said, Astarion could really go without the frequent visits to the local brothel. Was it the best place in the city for gathering information? Yes. It seemed that every walk of life in Baldur’s Gate found their way into Shar’s Caress and if you were going to find alternative passage to the underworld, this would be the best place to find it. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. For one there were the unwelcome advances to his own person, the concept of grace and personal space apparently left at the door. He was so very close to breaking the hand of the next person who thought it was appropriate to grab his ass. And if they could afford to get kicked out he would have by now. Your verbal, angry tirades in his defense could only scare off so many. 
But as terrible as his own discomfort was, it was nothing in the face of how often you were being fawned over. What was it about you that seemed to drive everyone mad? Yes you were objectively attractive, but this was frankly getting out of hand. First there was the green skinned druid doing something sensual to your mind, then there were the general stares and whispers as you walked by, and now a pair of gorgeous drow twins trying and failing to proposition you. 
It was getting tiresome. There were only so many times a man could take his lover being offered “free” services before he snapped. 
On one hand, he could respect the dedication they had to the craft. He could be considered something of a hired whore himself in his time, the old, “the first one’s free” was a tried and true trick. And he also knew, vaguely, that no one was actually trying to steal you from him. But on the other, he couldn’t help the fact that he wanted to claw their eyes out for looking at you so brazenly.
He hadn’t expected the eyes of the woman to wander over to him, like she was just noticing the possessive arm he had wrapped around your waist, “Is that your partner with you? How would you both feel about having a little fun?”
Absolutely fucking not. Maybe the old Astarion would have smiled and nodded, ready to do whatever was asked of him. But the man from that wretched era had died, or at the very least was dying. And he would be damned if he let you lay with another, never less participate in it. 
Astarion interrupted your overly-polite attempts stuttering of a refusal. He glared at them both, a sneer painted on his face, “We’ll be passing on that. You’d think the first no would have sufficed, but I suppose it’s not fair to expect everyone to have basic language comprehension. Now as illuminating as this conversation has been, we have places to be. Excuse us.”
Then he was pulling you away, happy to ignore the offended huffs of indignation he had left in his wake. 
“We’re supposed to be investigating, remember?” You said with a giggle, not even questioning him as he dragged you to the second floor, “Being rude is not the way we’ll find travel to the hells.”
“I highly doubt they would have been of use,” Astarion said as he pushed you into the first empty room he could find. He felt off, maybe even a little crazed as he turned to you, “Tell me darling, what is it about you that makes you so irresistible, hm?”
He crowded you against the closed door, ducking his head into the crook of your neck to breath you in. You smelled heavenly, you always did. He could trace the barest whiff of your blood from beneath your skin, always calling to him. You were the sweetest thing he ever tasted. Delicious even, for more reasons than one. 
“T-They just wanted my coin,” You gasped when he started to suck bruises into your skin, “That’s all.”
“I think they wanted a bit more than that,” Astarion bit out as he shoved his thigh between your legs, “What will it take for others to realize you’re mine.”
His hands were wandering, resting low to grip your hips. He was using them to move you, forcing you to grind against his thigh. You grasped at his shoulders, trying to bite back a moan as you stared at him with wide eyes, “You want to do it here? Does that door even lock?”
It looked like it didn’t, not that Astarion cared. Maybe walking in on him ravishing you would finally start getting the point across of who you belonged to. Astarion shrugged, "There are less appropriate venues than literal whore houses."
“But-”
“But I can tell you want it,” Astarion interrupted with a smirk, his hands barely working to move your body anymore. But that wasn’t stopping you from rubbing yourself all over him, “Just look at you darling. Desperate little thing. But if you really don’t want to…”
Astarion made a lazy attempt to step back, laughing out loud when your desperately pulled him back, your desire finally winning out over your common sense. But you were glaring at him, obviously annoyed that he was so good at riling you up. He had seen that look before, the one that just screamed that you were scheming something. 
He just hadn’t expected you to drop to your knees in front of him, huffing as you started to undo the fastenings to his pants, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit of a shit?”
“Maybe,” Astarion said with a strained laugh, his breath catching when you pulled his half-hard cock out, “But it seems to keep getting me the things I want.”
You rolled your eyes before licking a wide strip up his cock, like you weren’t directly proving his point. You looked amazing own there, you’re half-hearted glare morphing into a blissful haze. 
Gods, how were you real? Astarion wasn’t quite sure why you were such a fan of getting him down your throat, but he knew that he was a lucky bastard for it. 
“Sweet girl,” Astarion sighed, letting a hand drift down to tangle in your hair, “Sweet girl with a perfect mouth. And you’re all mine, aren’t you?”
You made a small, affirmative noise around his cock, taking him in deeper as you clutched at his thighs. You were so good at this, so well-trained after months of being together. He loved the soft, wet sounds that would escape your lips as you swallowed him down, the pretty way your eyes would water as you encouraged him to fuck your throat, how you would squirm in place on your knees, no doubt ruining your panties with how wet you were getting. 
And no one else would ever know. No one would get to see you like this again, feel you like this. Needy, desperate, and his. Oddly enough, that thought was what sent him over the edge. He came down your throat, groaning as you eagerly swallowed around him. 
You pulled off of him slowly, panting while you smiled up at him. There was the smallest string of spit mixed with his come, connecting from the head of his cock to your lips. You licked it up, still clinging to his thighs as you hazily stared up at him. Sweet enough to make his heart skip a beat, and his dick give a valiant twitch.
He pulled you to your feet, not wasting any time in smashing your lips together. He spun you around, pushing you towards what he prayed was a clean bed. 
He pushed you back onto the sheets, making quick work of tearing your pants down your legs as he grinned down at you, “Your turn.”
He kneeled in front of you; spreading his hands over your splayed thighs to peel off your underwear. The core of you was already glistening, slick enough to make Astarion’s mouth water. He licked his lips as he spread your legs further apart, shameless as he feasted on you with his eyes. 
You were shaking in his hold, biting your bottom lip when you whined, “Stop staring already…”
“But you’re so pretty here my sweet,” Astarion cooed, tracing a single finger over the seam of your cunt, “And you’re dripping. Poor thing, have I kept you waiting too long?”
You nodded excitedly above him, your hips bucking when he let his fingers dip in further between your pussy lips. He lightly traced your clit, softly laughing at the way the simple touch made you whine.
It was his own fault that you were so needy, a fact that brought a smirk to his lips. You always got so wet after you had him down your throat, soaked and gorgeous. 
Astarion dove right in, loudly moaning as he licked into your folds. He dragged his lips upward to suckle on your clit, basking in all the cries and whimpers escaping you.
He licked back down, teasing your hole with his tongue as your legs quivered around his head. He let the sharpness of his fangs scrape against you as he started to fuck you with his tongue, threatening your most intimate places.
He knew you liked that; little minx that you were. The slight risk of pain that was always looming. It made him want to sink his fangs in you for real, a hunger that he'd sate after he had you gushing into his mouth.
You were already close, he could tell from the way your cunt was tightening around his tongue; too worked up from the thrill of being in public and the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Astarion trailed talented fingers up to rub against your clit, his tongue still curling inside of you as you cried out. Finally falling over the edge. But that wasn't stopping him from continuing to play with you.
You had to tug on Astarion’s hair for him to finally pull away, too over sensitive to handle his talented tongue. You were still trembling by the time he leaned back, licking his lips. He rested his head on your thigh, obviously pleased with himself as he grinned up at you. He could feel your heart racing against his cheek, the sound of your blood pumping singing through your veins. It had his mouth watering for a completely different reason. 
He let his fangs drag against the delicate skin of your inner thigh, looking up at you through his lashes, "Can I?"
A superfluous question. Not when he already knew the answer before it escaped your lips.
“Y-yeah," You mumbled, lovingly gazing down at him. He would never tire of seeing that look on your face, "But be gentle? Please?” 
"Of course my love," Astarion murmured, before promptly sinking his fangs into your flesh. He had to hold you down from the way you were still trembling, your quivering only getting worse at the pleasure mixed with pain. He didn’t let himself go rabid, just enough to get a taste. He was pulling back too soon, smiling to himself at the little whine you let out. He gently licked over the wound before standing, not yet swallowing the last drops on his tongue.
Instead he leaned forward to kiss you, more than happy to share the sweet taste of your blood as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.
“Thank you my dear,” Astarion sighed as he pulled away, “That was exactly what I needed. Now I think that’s enough investigating for one day.” 
You sighed, taking the time to card your fingers through his hair, “Agreed. Though you might have to carry me out of here now.”
Wasn’t that a wonderful idea?
Astarion hummed as he pulled your clothing back on, “I think I like the sound of that," He didn't give you time to respond, too busy sweeping you up in his arms with a grin, "I'll be taking you up on that."
You squeaked when he hefted you up, bridal style, “I wasn’t being serious!”
But it was too late, Astarion was already kicking the door open. He shrugged at you, completely shameless as he winked at a few onlookers, "Then you shouldn't have suggested it."
You groaned, hiding your face in his shirt as he happily took you outside, “I’m going to get you back for this. I hope you know that.”
Astarion laughed as he kissed the top of your head, “I’m sure you will.”
It was a childish stunt, borderline on par with a jealous tantrum, but gods, did it feel good. Good enough to sate Astarion's obsessive tendencies for an impressive amount of time. Under normal circumstances. 
But what about your lives were normal?
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dxmoness · 3 months
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Your husband has been having a severe case of the baby fever for a long time now. It started when he saw you taking care of your baby sister. The sight of you carrying the baby in your arms while you make her laugh made him desire to have one with you.
He's been planting small hints and clues that he is very much interested in having children with you. But you were still oblivious no matter how many hints he dropped. So he decided to take matters in his own hands.
“Um? Darling, we don't have a baby.” You say as you look over the things that you and your husband had bought during your shopping spree.
Your husband smiles mischievously. “But aren't they adorable?” He holds up a onesie for a baby for your inspection. Sure, it did look cute, but it was useless if you two did not have a baby to use it for.
You sigh, knowing he wants to hear you say yes. “I suppose it is...” You grace him with a small smile which makes him beam happily. “But my point still stands, we don't have a baby to use it on.”
He smirks as he puts down the baby clothes and walks to your side, leaning to kiss your cheek. “Not yet, we don't.” He purrs in your ear, his hot breath causes you to shudder involuntarily.
Your cheeks grow flush at the implication he is giving through his suggestive words. “What?” You decide it's best to play innocent first because you really didn't want to embarrass yourself if it was not what you think.
He chuckles as he tucks a loose strand of hair into the back of your ear. “You know what I mean, my love.” He gives you a dazzling smile. “I want to make one. Right now.” He pauses. “That is if you don't mind?” He asks softly, waiting for your response.
He seemed so desperate for it that you found it adorable. You nod in agreement. “Okay.” You respond softly, giving him your consent to continue as he pleases.
He did not waste anymore time as he immediately shoves you to the couch, his impatience showing evident in his quick movements. You yelp as you are immediately pinned down, his hand pinning both of yours above your head while his free hand starts dealing with his belt.
“Darling—” You gasp only for him to interrupt. “Hush.” He whispers, silencing you by pressing a lingering kiss on your soft lips as he finally managed to get the belt off. “Be quiet and let me take care of you.”
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➷ ( characters ) — lante agriche , dion agriche , rezef hill , claude de alger obelia , anastacius de alger obelia , cesare de como , regis adri floyen , eiser grayan , eros vasilios , aamon paxley , jingyuan , kamisato ayato , izek van omerta , callisto regulus. ❀
➷ ( tags ) — @d10nsaint , @dreamlessnight @yourwholeworld @yumieis @im-in-love-with-fairytales , @synthe4u , @yoghurtsan , @luvyev. ( ask to be added to a specific taglist. ex: the first six people wanted to be tagged in dion agriche tagged fics hence their appearance. ) ❀
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Logan is feeling a bit rejected and dejected, but he finds company in a similarly discouraged side. Rated T for Remus.
Patton was sweet. Virgil was sour. Janus was salty. Roman was umami. Remus was oleogustus. And Logan. Logan found that he was bitter. Bitter was most well known to animals as the taste of yuck don't eat that or you'll die. Animals are naturally inclined to prefer sweet and salt. Umami and oleogustus were a big part of many cultures, though they weren't for everyone. Many folks enjoy sour. But bitter. No one likes bitter. Only the rare fool with no inkling of self preservation. That's the way Logan saw it. Unfortunately, or fortunately, there was one such fool.
"Logie! Lolo! Where are you hiding?!" Remus burst into the common area. "I'm right here, Remus." Logan responded from the couch. "Ah! Look what I made!"
Logan looked up from the book he was reading. Remus had a small, round, likely amphibian creature in his hands which was being thrust very close to Logan’s face. Once he was able to focus on what was in front of him, he found it was actually kind of-
"Skreeeeeeeeee!!!" The creature let out an ear splitting screech. "It's rather loud." "That's what I was going for! Since you told me about how the vibrations work in bigger and smaller instruments I wanted to see how high pitched I could get a creature to be." Despite himself Logan smiled fondly with a slight blush. "I'm happy I could be of some service." "These get real big too. The adults have screams so low pitched you'll pee yourself." They heard footsteps come down the stairs. "What the hell was that?!" Virgil stopped to yell at them as soon as they were in view. "Joy was just saying hi to her new friend." "Ugh. What is that thing? Put it back where it came from, or better yet, put it through a blender. It would be less obnoxious that way." "Now, Virgil, that's not very nice. Why don't you go lay down and I'll get you some water," Patton implored, having come out of the kitchen when he heard yelling. "Yeah, ok." Virgil turned himself around and went back up to presumably his room. "He has a headache," Patton explained. "Maybe you two should go somewhere else." Logan, noticing the hurt Remus was desperately trying to cover, decided to speak up. "Why don't you take me to meet Joy's mom?" Remus lit up. "Ok!" He grabbed Logan's hand and all but dragged him to his side of the imagination. It had more monsters and dangerous creatures, but Logan still felt safer there than anywhere else. Remus's creations would never hurt him, unlike some of the other creatures around the mindscape. Maybe that was a bit harsh, though. They hadn't meant to after all, right? On their way Remus unsurprisingly got distracted. “Oh these are Joy's favorite here, try one.” “And I won’t die from this?” Logan took a fruit from Remus’s hand. “Joy didn’t.” “Right, well, ‘cheers to that’ I suppose… They’re… interesting.” Interesting being code for what did I just put in my mouth because it was not good. “I thought so- Oh! Do you feel that?” The ground and trees around them shook, just enough to be noticed. “Is that an earthquake?” “Nope! That’s Momma. Let’s go!” And go they did. Remus was correct in stating that the creatures got rather large, but he had neglected to mention that large meant a sphere as tall as a six story building. Joy did a happy roll and screeched. Remus snapped before Momma replied and placed earplugs in both of their ears. Their whole bodies and everything else around them trembled.
“Fascinating.” “What?!” “Nothing!” “What?!”
Logan just shook his head.
Remus set Joy down and they watched as she hopped closer to her mother. They seemed to greet each other with their cries. Remus tried to speak to Logan again, but that clearly wasn’t going to work, so he led Logan far enough away that while they could still hear his newest creations, they could also easily hear each other without getting a headache. Because if Logan got a headache, he would have to leave.
“So what do you think?!” “They are quite fascinating. Joy eats berries, but what does her mother eat?” “The giant wasps.” “The giant wasps?” Logan blinked. “Oh, yeah. Super venomous. They really needed a predator to keep their numbers down.” “Well one that grows to be that large is a good choice, I think. Due to its size and diet, it is likely to keep its own population in check through environmental stressors such as competing for food and how it spends its energy. I believe it would fill a niche similar to a whale in the ocean. The vibrations it creates are likely helpful for disabling prey, though I’m sure particularly determined giant wasps could get through to a still large but smaller specimen in a relationship similar to mongoose and cobras. Though I have to wonder what the young get out of eating berries. It doesn’t seem like it makes sense for the amount of energy they need to grow so big.” “Ah, I see what you mean. These berries aren’t normal berries!” Remus grinned at him in a way that made him think maybe he really shouldn’t have tried one. “They’re made of flesh!” “Huh.” Logan gagged a bit, eye twitching. “That’s very… interesting.” “You said.” “With as realistic as some of your creations are, I tend to forget that creativity need not be bound by the rules of Thomas’s world.” “Mm. I think the realistic stuff can be more fun, but meat berries are a classic for horror!”
A classic, huh? Logan was pretty sure that wasn’t exactly the case, but having things that normally weren’t made of flesh be made out of it did tend to be a somewhat common occurrence, usually to symbolize one thing or another, so maybe it was somewhat the case.
“But I think Thomas and the others might actually appreciate this one. Since it’s cute and all,” Remus admitted. “At the very least I appreciate it. Virgil probably would have thought it was funny if he didn’t have a headache.” “You don’t have to do that, Logan.” “Do what?” “Pretend like the others care about the things I make. I know they’d all prefer if I would just… disappear. Maybe not Janus, but I do tend to make things difficult for him.”
For Remus to actually be saying something, it must really be bothering him. While he did usually spout any and every thought that came into his head, he usually refused to show weakness. Not that wanting to be accepted or appreciated and feeling bad when you weren’t made you weak.
“Regardless of whether or not they want you to disappear, which I would argue they don’t, you can’t. You are essential to Thomas. We all are. Even if our contributions aren’t always appreciated.” “Our contributions?” “Ah, I misspoke. I meant your contributions, of course.” “Yeah, I’m not buying it. You can’t get out of your Freudian slip that easily.” “Freud was a hack.” “Gee, Logan, tell me how you really feel. But you should know by now I already know how you feel. They never pay attention to you, do they?” “Whether or not any of you do, is irrelevant. It is only important that Thomas heeds my advice.” “Any of us?” “Any of you.” “Logan, I am sorry about that.” “What?” “When I kept trying to shut you up. I was afraid that if you helped Thomas out of it too quickly, I wouldn’t make an impact. And I didn’t want to go back to being shoved away in a box like a kitten on the side of the road when it’s raining, doomed to death by starvation, illness, or a rogue Prius.” “Ah, um, ahem, well… Apology accepted. And for the record, I wouldn’t have allowed that to happen. It’s high time Thomas stop repressing parts of himself. It’s unhealthy.” “Of course… For Thomas…” The duke fell quiet and turned to face away from Logan. “That is how I felt then. Now that we’ve spent more time together…” Remus looked back, hopeful. “I have come to appreciate your company and enjoy the thought exercises you present me with. If I didn’t want you around I would hardly go out of my way to spend time with you.” “For the record, I enjoy spending time with you as well. And not because you’re the only one who will entertain my deranged ideas, though that helps. You make me want to be smart, too. And feel like I can. I could learn so much about real world accurate zombies or mutants or zombie mutants that tear your face clean off like a pet monkey, or I can learn how to create a creature that oozes acidic slime strong enough to melt bones!” “You could have done that before.” “But I didn’t think I could, and with creativity, that’s half the battle.” “Janus never encouraged you?” “Not like this. In his own way, sure, but not like this.” “I’m glad, then, that I could do this for you.” “You’re worth more than what you can do for others, you know.” “What? I don’t- I mean our literal functions are-” “What would you say to Virgil or Patton or Roman, hmm? That they are only as valuable as the services they can provide everyone else?” “Of course not, I… I see your point.” “You can if you want to.” “What?” “What?” … Probably an innuendo and he didn’t want to know. “Thank you for… comforting? Erm, correcting me.” “I can comfort you anytime, and if you wanted to comfort me, you could start by taking off your shirt.” “I’m not doing that.” “The tie can stay on! In fact-” “Not happening.” “Awww. Fine, but can you come help me with my ooze monster? I was serious about that.” “I’d be delighted to.”
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cicadaart · 3 months
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Been drawing nonstop all week but I did it!!
[Edit: but wait, there’s more!]
Bonus without text:
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frownyalfred · 5 months
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Fic idea: A world where Clark and Bruce both get put under Black Mercy’s spell and see their alternate “ideal” dream realities. These realities are identical, though they don’t realize that — a world where they finally give into the pining and realize the other cares about them just as much.
They get married, raise kids, and build the League. Years pass in domestic bliss.
Cut to them waking up. Both are devastated that their marriage/lives weren’t real and resign themselves to a miserable world with a partner who doesn’t remember them.
They both think the other saw something else — Clark mumbles something about Lois and Bruce lies that he saw his parents alive again (they were in his dream, but that wasn’t the focus? hmm)
But. As they try moving on from the years-in-a-second bliss they shared, odd moments keep cropping up.
Bruce says something Clark only ever heard in the dream world. They know things about each other they shouldn’t. Clark slips up and reaches for Bruce’s body in a way that’s too achingly familiar. They’re both choked with denial and grief.
Cue the most aggravating dual pining ever.
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powerfultenderness · 1 year
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Bed
Summary: König’s new neighbor finds out how comfortable his bed is. König falls quickly.
Pairing: König/F!Reader (civilian)
Rated: T+
A/N: Just some fluff. 
Word count: 2947
[Neighbor König masterlist]
It was nice to have his own place. Having been in the military most of his life, König was used to base life. The familiarity of it all was a comfort, but there were some, well, comforts that were always missing. Like his bed. The beds on base were little more than stiff uncomfortable cots, a little too small for him, causing his feet to hang off the edge of the bed. But his bed at home? Large and soft and yet firm enough to hold his weight, with ample room for his height. The pillows were like solid clouds. And the vanilla scented candle on his nightstand would fill his room with its delicious aroma and lull him into soft dreams. 
That’s where he was headed now, ready to eat the take out he was carrying, take a nice hot shower and climb into his bed. But as he rounded the stairs to get to his flat, he was met with a slight block on the stairs. A woman was struggling with a box, bracing it against her knee and grunting with every step she tried to take. 
“Excuse me,” he started in German.
You jumped, and let out an undignified squeak, when someone started talking behind you. The surprise made you drop your box, thankfully it was already low to the step and didn’t drop on your foot or anything. Still you were sure you heard something break. “Shit!” 
With a hand over your heart you turned and had to hold back another startled reaction. The man at the foot of the stairs was big, giant even, and was wearing…some sort of…hood? A mask? What the fuck? It took a second for you to realize he was carrying a take out bag, he must be trying to get past you. “S-sorry, you just startled me.” 
He raised his hands, a gesture to show that he meant no harm. “No, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He replied, this time in English. “Do you need some help?” 
You smiled politely at the man, “oh. No thank you! I got it!” You chuckled nervously, still a little out of breath from struggling with the box, while you braced your lower back with one hand. 
He smiled, not that you could see it, and gestured to the stairs. “Ok. After you.” 
Right. Shit, right. You were blocking him, the big guy probably didn’t want to just push past you on the stairs. 
You chuckled nervously again and picked up the box, trying to keep your grunts quiet, and heaved it up one more step. You could feel his eyes on you, another step, two more steps, then the landing. Whew! You gently dropped the box and straightened out your back to look up at the rest of the stairs. 
You sighed, the little flight you just made it up was the easy part, now the long part of the stairs. The faint chuckling you heard from the foot of the stairs didn’t help either.
“Miss, are you sure you don’t need any help?” 
“I mean,” you started with a huff, not out of anger, just an attempt to calm your breathing. “I don���t need help, I can carry it! But, help would be very much appreciated, yes. Thank you.” 
He nodded and smoothly moved up to the landing, keeping his movements deliberate. Something he learned to do long ago around civilians, especially around women that were smaller than him, so he didn’t scare them. You showed signs of being wary of him —a good thing as far as he is concerned, as he is a stranger—and took a step back as he neared you. Since his face is covered, he can’t offer a mollifying smile (though he feels himself doing so anyway), and instead simply nodded at you again before he picked up the box.
He chuckled, watching you struggle with the box had him expecting a heavy thing, but, “this isn’t heavy.”
“What!” You squeaked, hands on your hips, “it’s like, fifty pounds!” 
Even with his face covered (why?), you can tell just by the way his eyes darted over to you that he is smirking. “Where to?”
“Oh, not far. I’m at 203.” 
“Neighbor,” he nodded as he started up the stairs. “I live in 205.” 
You turned to him with a kind smile and introduced yourself, “nice to meet you, neighbor!” 
“König,” he replied, now at the top of the stairs, and shifted the box so he was holding it in one hand. He extended his right hand to you   
“Now you’re just showing off,” you say with an amused smile and shake his hand before leading him to your new flat.
He was surprised when you opened the door without unlocking it first.
“You should lock your door,” he followed you in. 
You rolled your eyes a little with a short laugh and spread your arms out in the literally empty flat. “What, you think someone is going to break in and steal my nothing?”
“No. There are other things to take besides your stuff.” He half muttered as he set the box down by the wall.
“Huh?”
He looked at you, with your head tilted slightly as you questioned him, and understood. You were one of those civilians. Innocent. He can’t bring himself to put a damper on this interaction, in the back of his mind he realizes that now he’ll have to keep an eye and ear out for his new neighbor. 
“Do you need help bringing anything else up?” 
You gave him a strained smile, nervous, if the sound of your voice was anything to go by, and shook your head. “No, no I couldn’t possibly take up more of your time.” 
You reached out and touched his forearm, intending to remind him of his dinner that he was carrying, but only drawing your attention to his muscles. “Oh. Wow.” You mumbled under your breath, before realizing that you’re essentially feeling him up and quickly drew your hand back. 
König blushed at the soft touch, and again at your mumbled admiration. Not for the first time in his life he was thankful for the mask that covered his face. 
“Uhm,” you cleared your throat and focused, “this was the heaviest box! I thought it would be best to start with that one! So I got it, really. Thank you, though.” 
You smiled at him again and König decided then that he liked seeing you smile. “The food can wait. I don’t mind helping.” He offered one more time, that seemed to be the pattern with you.
Honestly, why were you even saying no to this hunk of man? Sure, you couldn’t see his face, but the form fitting long sleeved shirt he wore did little to hide just how fit he was. So you hummed and hedge, “I really don’t want to be an imposition-” 
“You won’t.”
You smiled again, not a kind polite one like before, but bright and happy. He definitely liked your smile. “Well, in that case, König, I’d love your help!” 
His stomach flipped at your words and smile, and he felt himself blushing even harder. He knew why. It wasn’t often that cute civilian women smiled at him like that. It was nice to have the attention of a pretty woman, even if nothing more came of it, as he expected. 
“Let me put this down,” he lifted the bag of food a bit and you nodded, “sure!” 
Out in the hall he paused and waited for you to lock the door. You scoffed playfully and obliged him, “really, someone taking those broken plates off my hands would be a blessing.” 
He smirked but didn’t humor you, he wasn’t going to encourage your carelessness; what if something happened while he wasn’t around? 
With König’s help it didn’t take long to bring up the rest of the boxes. The man doubled up on boxes on both trips while you carried light bags and just opened doors for him. 
As he set the rest of the boxes down in the living room, you were rummaging through one of the bags you carried up, until you pulled out a wallet. “Thank you so much, König, let me pay you for all your help.” 
“No.” He shook his head and raised a hand to refuse your payment, “it was my pleasure.” 
Pleasure? Damn, where was this guy when you were moving out too? 
“König,” you draw out his name in a small pout. “How can I repay you, then?” 
Once again a wave of excitement rushed through him. He couldn’t help the inappropriate thoughts that ran through his mind for a second, that influenced his answer. “Have dinner with me.” 
Normally he wasn’t so forward with women, and never with civilian women. But you were nice, and didn’t seem to be scared of him, and besides, he saw you checking him out at least once! 
You were a little surprised by the request but smiled nonetheless. “Dinner? Sure, when-” 
“Now.”
“Now?” Well now you’re really surprised. “König, are you offering to share your dinner with me?”
He looked around the apartment, the only thing you had were a few boxes, and shrugged. “What else will you eat?” 
Oh. He had a point. You’re sure if you dug around in one of your bags, you could find a forgotten energy bar somewhere, but you didn’t have any real food around. “Well, ok. That’s true. Are you sure I can’t pay you? I feel like the person roping others into helping them move is supposed to pay for dinner.” 
“No.”
You shrugged, “well, alright then. Let’s go. Oh, unless you want to eat here? I can offer premium seating on the floor!” 
He chuckled and moved towards the door, holding it open for you. He once again waited for you to lock the door before leading you to his flat.
205 was a different layout than yours. It was one of the bigger flats with two bedrooms, two baths, a spacious living room and open kitchen. His place was nicely furnished, one of the first things that caught your eye was the big leather sectional in the living room. It was one of those deep couches, which made sense, considering how tall he was. 
The table and chairs that he motioned for you to sit at were also clearly chosen to accommodate his size. You practically had to climb into the chair, and could easily kick your feet while he grabbed the food and some plates.
He had been so efficient in helping you, that even with the short delay, the food was still warm. You thanked him again and started to dig in when he set a plate in front of you. It’s only after your first bite that you noticed he was eating by lifting his mask for every bite. 
Oh. “I’m sorry.” 
He hummed, confused by your sudden apology. “Why?” 
You gestured to your face, “you probably take off your mask when you’re alone in your home.” 
Warmth bloomed in his chest. You were concerned about him? Of course you were, you were nice. A pretty, nice girl who didn’t want to be an imposition on him, who worried about his comfort, who didn’t lock her door. 
He shook his head, “don’t worry about that. It is not a problem.” 
There was something intense about his stare as he answered you, so intense that you dropped the matter and quickly finished your meal. He matched your pace, finishing his meal just as you finished yours.
You opened your mouth, you were going to thank him again and bid him goodnight, he was sure, but he spoke first. “Want a beer?” 
“Oh. Sure.” 
You smiled at him again, causing his blood to thrum in his veins. He wanted to remember your smile for the next time he was on a mission. The other men would brag about their women, and he had no one to think of, but now your pretty smile would keep his mind company. 
Once you had your beer, you glanced around the apartment, taking it in. He had nice taste, the furniture was high quality, and even the TV looked like it was on the expensive side. Whatever he did, he was doing well for himself. But your eyes kept getting drawn to the couch. Maybe because you were currently lacking furniture yourself, it just looked so comfortable.
“König,” you started, not looking directly at him, “can I sit on your-” 
Face? Dick? Yes, whatever you wanted, “yes.” He answered as you finished your question, “-couch?”  
Oh. He deflated and took a breath to calm down. Of course you weren’t asking him to fuck you right now. 
You set your beer down and moved to the living room. “It just looks so comfy.” You explained as you sat down and pushed yourself back into the firm cushions. You chuckled to yourself as your feet hovered off the ground when you were seated all the way back. Yea, this couch was definitely meant for taller people. 
He grabbed your beer and set it down on the coffee table in front of you, to which you flashed him with another brilliant smile. He grabbed the TV remote and turned it on, “movie?” 
You looked at him as he sat down next to you, his knee gently bumping into yours. “Dinner and a movie? Careful, König, I might start thinking this is a date.” 
He laughed, boisterously, nervously, but relieved that you laughed with him. 
The movie was of no consequence, but he felt encouraged every time you giggled at one of his jokes. By the time he was done with his second beer, he wasn’t even paying attention to the movie, instead he was telling you stories about his missions, nothing classified of course, but the way you stared at him with wide eyes, shining in anticipation as if he were more interesting than the handsome man on the television fueled him. At one point he even rolled up his shirt to show you a nasty scar on his side. 
You gasped, eyes wide and looked up at him a little flustered as you asked him if it had hurt too bad.
“Ah, it was nothing! I barely felt it!” He assured you and cleared his throat as he rolled his shirt back down. 
“Wow! That’s crazy!” You exclaimed as you shifted in your seat too.
His eyes flickered down for a moment and he noticed the way your thighs squeezed together before you found a comfortable position. You were closer to him now, and when he draped his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your shoulder, you didn’t move or give any indication that you were uncomfortable. He grinned to himself, nervous adrenaline finding its way into his blood and he had to actively stop himself from bouncing his knee.  
And that adrenaline faded as you nodded off to sleep next to him. Well, you had mentioned that you’d been driving all day, moving. So naturally as soon as you were comfortable you fell asleep. 
He was only slightly disappointed, it was still a better night than he could have hoped for otherwise.
-
You woke to the sound of your phone buzzing. Your morning alarm. You sighed, you still had time before you really had to wake up, so you snuggled right back into bed. It was so soft and warm, but the temperature in the room was bordering cold, which made the warm and heavy blankets even more inviting. The subtle scent of peppermint and vanilla-
Wait!
You quickly sat up, eyes wide in confusion as you looked around a room you had never seen before. It took a moment for last night’s events to come back to you. Oh! This must be König’s room…but he was nowhere around.
You straightened out the bed, feeling slightly guilty about climbing into such a nice bed in your street clothes.
“König?” 
“Good morning!” He called from the kitchen.
You followed his voice, glancing at the couch on the way to the kitchen and saw that there was a pillow and blanket folded neatly on one of the cushions.
“Did you sleep on the couch?” You asked once you were near the kitchen, stopping on the other side of the island counter. Like you, he was dressed in the same clothes as last night, mask and all, probably hadn’t wanted to wake you.
“Yes.” 
“You should have just woke me up. Sorry I kicked you out of your room. Did you carry me to bed?”
“Yes. Breakfast?” He asked just as he flipped an egg.
You glanced away and fought down a blush. What you’d give to have him carry you to his room while you were awake! 
“No, thank you.” 
“Are you sure?”
“I still have a lot of stuff to take care of, I should get started.”
“Oh.” He sounded so disappointed, and even his shoulders drooped a little.
You chuckled, “but thanks to you, I’m starting the day so refreshed!”
“Me?”
“Yea.” You nodded and smiled at him again, just like you did last night. “Your bed is so comfortable!”
“You like my bed?” 
“Mmhmm!” You flashed him a devious smile this time, “maybe next time you can join me.” 
The clatter of the spatula falling to the floor and him scrambling to grab it, echoed over your cute giggle. By the time he was standing up again, you were already by the door. “Bye, König!” 
“G-goodbye!” He stuttered after you, already dreaming of what next time would entail. 
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gardenofnoah · 1 year
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“you’re going to hurt yourself like that, my love.”
you startle at the voice over you, having been nearly asleep.
“—uh?”
you turn your head to see Nanami looming over your side of the bed. if you were fully conscious, you would see the tiny look of mischief in his eyes as they roam your body, but you’re not, so you take it as his tendency to mother hen you.
and then he’s pushing you to the middle of the bed despite your whining, climbing in beside you. you try to settle in and find you’re still being moved—he’s on his back, shuffling himself down the bed and pulling one of your legs over his chest. you feel him turn his face into your belly in a move that feels suspiciously like nuzzling.
“what’re y’doin,” you slur, a little petulant at being woken up like this, despite it being well past the time you meant to rejoin the living and despite your own desire to seek out the warmth he’s emitting next to you.
“you’re going to hurt your hip, laying like that,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. he runs a hand up the back of your thigh and over your hip, and you sigh a little bit, comforted by the feeling of him.
“i don’t know how you sleep like that,” he continues, absentmindedly dragging his fingers over your skin, making you shiver every now and then.
“feels good,” you grumble, face shoved into the pillow. talking about your bizarre sleeping position and maybe also the way the rough pads of his fingers leave a trail of warmth in their wake. you think you hear him chuckle softly, and you feel him press a kiss to the skin of your belly, right above the hem of your sleep shorts.
it’s soft, chaste—and then it’s not, and you suck in a breath when you feel him kiss you there again, feeling the tip of his tongue drag along the skin that stretches over your hip bone.
and evidently he hears your sharp inhale, because you feel a strong arm sneak around your lower back, pulling you closer to him.
“was still sleeping, you know,” but it’s lost all of its bite and you’re a little breathless now, fixated on the way his free hand slides up the back of your thigh to brush over the sensitive spot just under the curve of your ass.
“go to sleep then,” he says into the soft of your belly, pressing another kiss, opening his mouth a little wider to catch the skin of it between his teeth. he’s turned into you now, and despite yourself, you drag your leg up from his chest so it’s over his shoulder.
he moves to rest his head against your thigh that’s trapped underneath him, and distantly you think that it is more comfortable like this— his head squeezed between your legs having alleviated some of the pressure against your hip from laying on your side. that thought quickly becomes muddled in your head when you feel him latch on to the skin of your inner thigh that rests against his face.
you whine, hips bucking weakly as you squirm under tongue and teeth—both leaning into and trying to get away from the sting of his bite.
“my sweet love,” he coos, running his tongue over the fresh bruise, placating you. you shiver, pressing your face further into the pillow to try to breathe—to ground yourself despite the heat that curls up your spine. he stops, then, and you peak down at him to find that he’s staring back up at you.
“hi,” you whisper, fighting another shudder at the way his lips pull at the corners into a smirk that looks absolutely sinful on him.
“good morning,” he drawls, deep and far too awake. he rests his chin in the space between your hips, pressing a quick kiss above your pubic bone. your hips buck toward him a tiny bit, and his smirk widens when he feels it.
you bring a hand down to run it through his hair, tangling in the blond strands and scratching at his scalp. he closes his eyes and hums, deep in his chest, nuzzling into your thigh. it makes you smile, and it makes you ache.
“want you, ken,” you murmur, squeezing him gently between your thighs and reveling in the groan he lets out.
“i know, sweetheart,” he coos, hands coming up again to grope whatever skin he can reach and pressing a tiny kiss through your shorts, “i can smell you.”
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fumifooms · 28 days
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People should talk about Yaad and Thistle more. Weird granduncle that killed your dad in a petty impulsive punitive act, leaving you very scared of him as you live under his control for centuries. Imagine growing up hearing stories of the King’s brother, the kind, clever, collected and calm advisor and right hand man. But only knowing him by how warped he’s become, violent and erratic. He punishes you, too, robbing you of any agency by putting you inside of a doll. And then despite, he becomes catatonic and you’re left to take care of him in his brother’s body while he thinks you’re him. And then you see those slivers of that nice caring person you heard so much about in your childhood a millenium ago, and as he babbles about Delgal thinking he’s you, recalling memories and old habits, you wonder about how things must have used to be, before, and how they’ve changed irreparably. Today is melancholic again.
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Yaad being like, Thistle’s sort of great-nephew who’s lived most of his life seeing him as being out of his mind and only a mirage of the noble attentive person he once was, now having to take care of him, someone who was an older familial figure to him… Seeing him gentle, soft and unhurried after all this time spent in an emotional anxious paranoid frenzy... Yaad and Thistle post-canon is so special
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