#{ thrilled to write with you! let's have some fun LMAO

[pynkhues]

Hello! I'm curious how do you think Louis and Gabrielle will interact and view each other? My predictions about them are pretty unpopular in fandom and i wanted to read your thoughts

Hey! Oo, you have me very curious about your predictions, anon, especially given I don't know what's currently popular or unpopular when it comes to this particular topic. But yeah - I think they're probably going to hate each other, haha, and basically be forced to work together to try and get Lestat back from Akasha.

While they've got a lot of similar traits in that they're emotionally withholding and voracious readers and forced to perform a role for a society that would dictate who and what they should be (far more so in the show than the books when it comes to Louis), they've also got a lot of differences that I think would be insurmountable for them to overcome personally (to say nothing of the fact that I think they're both characters who would not appreciate seeing their own characteristics in others anyway).

It was actually interesting reading that little post from Anne-as-Lestat earlier, but her disconnection from art and the material world I think would definitely make her pretty chilly with Louis, given art is really still his enormously important to him and, y'know, he's a monster capitalist, haha, and I definitely think Louis' response to her will be a melting pot of his own mother-issues, and probably both a protectiveness and possessiveness of Lestat, especially as he gets to understand Gabrielle and Lestat's history better.

It's kind of interesting too heading into this new season with Louis remaining a lead character, because I think there will probably be some juxtaposing with Gabrielle's relationship with Nicki. One of the things that I love in the book is the way Gabrielle kind of steps up for Nicki in the aftermath of his turning, taking him out to hunt while Lestat falls into the abyss. There's this moment of nurture there in a way that Gabrielle never really offers Lestat, and that sense of them becoming his 'silent children' as they talk to each other with the mind gift, cutting Lestat out, is one we, of course, saw echoed in Louis and Claudia, but I just don't see that happening with Gabrielle and Louis? I think there's too much distance there, in years and place and context, and I think they'll feel their families with Lestat are too far apart, which will ultimately be a point of friction between them.

(Editing this post quickly too to add that I think it's a potentially fun shift in the dynamic with the Rue Royale household too where Lestat felt like the outsider to Claudia and Louis, to Louis now feeling like the outsider with Lestat and Gabrielle.)

Funnily enough, the character I see getting along with Gabrielle the most is actually Daniel, haha, which will be extra funny given we know Armand doesn't like her and I suspect Louis won't either.

What are your thoughts / predictions?

[macawbre]

Drills and practical work were comfortable to Phila. You could explain a concept until you were puffing and panting with the exertion, but those words could be all but useless once you were in the sky.

She missed being able to take recruits on their first flights. Introducing them to the intoxicating rush of wind whipping hair around your ears, the swooping delight, sweetened with anxiety, of relying on the creature beneath you to continue defying the laws of nature.

But, she now realised that delight was a candied poison. An untouchability that need only be disproven once.

If she was to regrow the Knights from the blood-soaked ground up, then she would do it differently. She would ensure her past mistakes never cost anyone their lives again.

Unfortunately, her well-intentioned attempts were belied by a fizzing boredom that left her staring unblinking at a lesson plan. So far all she'd written was: Lesson One: Safety Precautions.

Well, she was never a solo flier. There were many instructors dotted around this academy. She would seek one out and ask their help.

Pacing the halls of Garreg Mach, she eventually lighted on a classroom which was buzzing with activity. Perfect. She lingered in the hallway, the echo of a shamefaced youth ejected from class for bad behaviour.

The class was dismissed, and she slipped into the room. Like a magicians trick, the disappearing students revealed their professor. A professor with a very recognisable collar bristling with eyes. A... Plegian? Her muscles tensed on instinct. Fear and Plegia were practically the same word in Phila's vocabulary. They had killed her. They had... Her Exalt...

But she knew that Plegia was not its King. Just as the previous Exalt had not been hers. She could be civil. Emmeryn would want her to be civil.

'Pardon, I had some questions about... lesson planning.'

After the revelation, her words felt leaden, completely unable to articulate the shock that had slammed into her like a blow to the shoulder.

Teaching is a fickle, inching trick of light. He can't say for sure that he knows how to capture it, but in his own strange way, he knew how to wield it. For light, you bring up a receptacle of light—a mirror canted at an angle to bend its intangible existence. But for teaching, you must conjure some kind of receptacle of learning—a candle, a rose, a fire-proof mannequin. Something a little silly, something a little meaningful. The kids here are different now, but in a sense that they felt like different faces with the same souls. He couldn't really put his finger on it, but at least they were willing to give his classes a shot. (And let's forget the broken windows lining his classroom for a moment, shall we?)

It's interesting actually. No teacher here wanted anything to do with him. He had an easier time with the clerics, priests, and the psychologists over another colleague in his ranks. (But he couldn't blame them; not when Henry was barely a professor at all, let alone a capable one.) Maybe he could give Rhea a ring. Hang that noose over her head, and have a cup o' tea or something. But hey! Would you look at that! A sorry soul inching through the door! He straightened up, shard of broken glass glittering in his hands.

"Ahaha~ Oh, I'm sure you don't mean that." But, he was already teeming with curiosity; could it be that she wasn't afraid of him? She looked a whole lotta fun—like maybe the Cherche-type of fun. Stern, polite, and scary as hell. "...Or maybe you do?" Thoughtfulness tinged the tail-end of his question, as he lingered on the possibility that someone might actually want something more out of him.

"Asssssssss you can see, my last glass— I mean, class— kinda had the misfortune of shattering all the windows to my place. I think Seteth's going to have a conniption!" His laughter rung like church bells, echoing through the now-empty hall. A couple of his crows sat idly by the windowsills, picking at spare shards. To be honest, he didn't really make it easy on any responsible human being to be around him. (Because it was sooooo much more fun keeping them on their toes.)

"But if you're so sure, let's smash our heads together, nya ha ha! I'm positive we can come up with a lesson plan that'll have 'em by the neck."

With a little PLINK, he flicked the glass into a pile he had collected against the wall of the room. "What do you teach?" Circling around the room, he had his arms wide with all the possibilities racing through his head. "If it's swordsmanship, I recommend summoning a hoard of Risen to let your kids at 'em. And if it's Lance, you can ask me to enchant a couple of piñatas to pop out from the ceiling. Oh! Oh, or—"

"Actually, do you want a paper to write these all down? I think I can go on all day."

He scooted up on his desk, legs hanging off loosely as he leafed through the drawers for some spare parchment. To be honest, if she didn't want 'em, he'd use these plans himself. "What's your name by the way? Mine's Henry."

"Aha! Here we are." He pilfered a spare writing board, an ink pen he had enchanted to fountain ink, and some old scrolls for her use. "At the end of the day, if it's not fun, what's the point?"

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hello!! I hope you’re doing amazing!!! I really like your megumi works, so id like to request a fic where him and the reader have a very under cover secret relationship and yuji,nobara and gojo try to figure out why fushiguros been acting so weird. I’d love to see it! And more megumi works 🙏🏽. It’s just a request it’s totally okay if you don’t want to!! Hope you have an amazing week!! 💗💗

Okay, I probably never laughed this much while writing a fic lmao, this right here is ridiculous y'all

Keeping your relationship with Megumi a secret until you can't anymore

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader; pure comedy friendship with Nobara and Yuji lol

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: Megumi Fushiguro’s secret relationship with you has been going smoothly—until his friends start noticing his odd behavior. Yuji and Nobara grow suspicious, launching a hilariously relentless mission to uncover what he’s hiding, while Gojo sits back, amused by the chaos. Will the two of you finally confess?

Warnings: y'all, I almost died writing this hilarious piece of work lmao, I never praise my own work but that bonus has me rolling, if you're looking for a bandage for your broken heart there it is, fluff fluff fluff

Please let me know what you think! If this does well, I might write some more about the chaotic trio lol

You never thought keeping a secret would be this much fun.

Your relationship with Megumi started quietly, just like most things with him. There was no grand confession, no dramatic kiss in the rain. It was slow, understated, like the way shadows stretch out under the setting sun. You had been drawn into his orbit naturally, like you’d been waiting for it to happen all along.

Still, it wasn’t exactly planned. One moment you were sitting next to each other in silence, and the next you were sitting a little too close. Your fingers brushed. His eyes lingered. The air between you became charged with unspoken things, and soon enough, stolen moments were the only thing keeping you sane. The decision to keep it quiet came easily: neither of you had any desire to deal with the chaos that would break out if anyone found out. And besides, it was kind of thrilling.

But now it’s starting to get tricky.

It’s a normal Wednesday when the subtle shift in the atmosphere begins. Megumi is acting just a little too normal - stiffer, as if he’s hyper-aware of everything. He’s not good at this, at pretending everything is fine when there’s something simmering underneath. And unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for his odd behavior to catch some unwanted attention.

“Hey, Megumi,” Yuji calls from across the room, his eyes squinting suspiciously.

“You’re acting weird. Are you okay?”

Megumi doesn’t even flinch, though his eyes are literally glued to the ground.

“I’m fine.”

That’s it. Flat, simple, closed. He’s good at short answers. It should be enough. It’s not.

Yuji leans over the back of the couch, brow furrowed in confusion.

“No, you’re definitely acting off. You haven’t been sarcastic all morning. And usually by now, you’ve threatened to hit me at least twice.”

Megumi sighs, fingers twitching in his lap, the only outward sign of his discomfort.

“I’m fine, Yuji. Maybe you’re just imagining things.”

Yuji is definitely not convinced. He glances at Nobara, who’s lounging nearby with her arms crossed, already suspicious. She had been eyeing Megumi the second he walked in, catching onto his strange energy faster than Yuji had.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed it too,” she adds, voice sharp.

“Something’s up. You’ve been... I don’t know, distracted?”

“Seriously, I’m—” Megumi starts, but Nobara cuts him off, grinning.

“You’re not hiding anything from us, are you, Fushiguro?�� Her eyes gleam with mischief, and you can tell she’s just playing around.

For now.

“Oh, I think I know it!”, Yuji suddenly announces with his arms stretched in the air.

“Do you really, idiot?”, Nobara remarks.

You almost lose your cool, cold sweat dripping down your neck while waiting for Yuji’s next words. He didn’t catch it, did he? Not when you’ve been carefully avoiding being too close to Megumi while they’re around since you first joined Jujutsu High. He simply can’t know it-

Megumi’s eyes flick to you, a barely noticeable glance paired with his reddened cheeks, but it’s enough. Too much. Your heart skips in your chest, and you quickly look away, hoping no one else caught it. But then-

“Oh.” Yuji’s eyes widen in realization, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, I get it now.”

Megumi’s spine visibly stiffens.

“No, you don’t.”

But it’s too late. Yuji has already decided he’s figured it out.

“You’ve got a crush on someone, don’t you?” Yuji practically shouts, leaning forward in his seat with excitement.

“That’s why you’ve been all weird lately!”

Nobara sits up, clearly intrigued by this new development. “Wait, what? Megumi has a crush?”

“I do not,” Megumi says, but he’s starting to lose his calm now.

You can tell by the way his hand runs through his hair a little too harshly, as if he’s trying to ground himself.

You bite back a smile. Megumi can be as composed as he wants, but when it comes to things like this, he’s terrible at hiding it.

“You’re totally lying,” Nobara declares, standing up and crossing the room to get a better look at him.

“Who is it? Do we know them?”

Megumi groans, pressing his fingers to his temples as if he’s already getting a headache. You’re trying hard not to laugh because if you do, they’ll turn their attention to you. You’ve been careful this whole time to stay out of the line of fire, just a silent observer to this chaos.

But you know it’s only a matter of time.

“I’m not lying,” Megumi grumbles, clearly regretting every decision that led him to this point. “There’s no one.”

It’s almost convincing. Almost.

Yuji leans back, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Nah, you’re definitely lying. You’re terrible at it. You get all tense, like right now.”

“I’m always tense,” Megumi shoots back.

“True,” Nobara agrees,

“but this is different. You’re acting sketchy.”

Megumi shoots her a flat look, but Nobara only smirks back. She’s having way too much fun with this.

“Is it the one we’ve met at that pizza place yesterday, the one with a big ass and those nice hair?”, Yuji shouts into the conversation.

“The girl from yesterday?”, you repeat before you can stop yourself, arms crossing in front of your tightening chest.

“You guys are gross.”

Megumi’s gaze meets yours, panic shimmering underneath the surface while he fumbles with his own hands.

“What? No! It’s not that one!”

“Oh, not that one, huh? Who is it, then?”

“Fine,” Megumi says, standing abruptly.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Before they can say another word, he stalks out of the room, leaving you alone with Yuji and Nobara. You let out a quiet breath of relief, grateful they didn’t notice you.

Yuji turns to Nobara, eyes wide.

“This is huge. Megumi’s got a crush.”

Nobara hums thoughtfully, rubbing her chin.

“He’s never shown any interest in anyone before. It must be serious.”

“I wonder who it is,” Yuji muses, glancing around the room as if expecting the answer to jump out at him.

Your pulse quickens. If you stay here any longer, you’re going to blow your cover.

“I’m gonna grab some water,” you announce quickly, standing up.

You manage to make it halfway to the kitchen before Nobara’s voice calls after you, filled with sudden realization.

“Wait a minute. You were with him all morning, weren’t you?”

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Weren’t you two on a mission yesterday?” Yuji adds, piecing it together far too quickly for your liking.

“And last weekend, too?”

Panic rises in your throat, but you manage to keep your expression neutral when you turn back to face them.

“We’ve just been on a few missions together. That’s all” you say, voice steady.

Nobara narrows her eyes, scrutinizing you.

“Uh-huh. And you didn’t notice him acting weird?”

“Not really. Maybe he’s just worn-out” you lie, doing your best to stay calm.

Yuji tilts his head, still unconvinced but willing to drop it for now.

“Yeah, maybe.”

But Nobara isn’t so easily swayed.

“You sure? Because you’re looking a little-”

“Nobara,” you interrupt,

“you’re overthinking it.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, with a final hum of suspicion, she shrugs and lets it go.

But just as you think you’re in the clear, a new voice cuts through the tension.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

Gojo saunters in, sunglasses perched lazily on his nose, a knowing smirk already playing on his lips. He must have been eavesdropping because he’s grinning like he’s just hit the jackpot.

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to figure out what’s up with Megumi,” he notes, voice dripping with amusement.

“That kid’s an enigma even to himself.”

Yuji perks up at the sight of Gojo, excited to rope someone else into their investigation.

“We think he’s got a crush.”

Gojo pauses, grin widening.

 “Oh, is that so?”

You stand frozen in place as Gojo’s eyes slowly slide over to you, lingering for a beat too long. He knows. You don’t know how he knows, but he knows. He’s always been good at reading between the lines, picking up on things that most people miss. Megumi that traitor, did he really leave you all alone with these two and now even Gojo?

His smirk deepens.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, leaning casually against the wall, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“I wonder who it could be.”

You’re going to kill Megumi. You’re both dead. This is it. The end of your secret.

But before Gojo can say anything else, Megumi walks back into the room, his expression darkening as he notices Gojo’s presence.

“What are you doing here?” Megumi asks, his voice flat.

“Oh, just catching up with the kids. They were telling me about your little crush” Gojo replies innocently.

Megumi’s eyes dart between you, Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo, clearly calculating his next move.

“There’s no crush,” he replies, exasperation creeping into his voice again.

“Yuji’s just being an idiot.”

“Hey!” Yuji protests, but Megumi ignores him.

Gojo chuckles, pushing off the wall with an exaggerated stretch.

“Well, I think I’ll let you all handle this. Good luck with the investigation.”

He winks in your direction before sauntering out of the room, leaving you tense and trying to avoid Megumi’s gaze.

Yuji and Nobara are still watching him, and you can tell they’re not going to let this go anytime soon.

“So,” Nobara says, crossing her arms. “Are you going to tell us who it is, or are we going to have to follow you around until we figure it out?”

Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly fed up. “There’s no one.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” Yuji mutters, shaking his head.

Megumi’s about to respond, but then his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, glances at the screen, and his expression softens for just a split second before he tucks it away again.

You know who it is. He knows you know.

You’re barely holding back your laughter at this point, trying to keep a straight face. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you have to look away before anyone else notices.

But Megumi, in his ever-stubborn way, is still trying to salvage this mess.

“I’m going for another walk,” he announces abruptly, clearly done with this interrogation.

“Uh-huh,” Nobara calls after him, grinning like a cat who just caught a mouse.

“Sure, go clear your head, lover boy.”

You can’t help but chuckle quietly as Megumi shoots you a helpless look before heading out the door.

As soon as he’s gone, Yuji leans over to Nobara, whispering loudly.

“Do you think he’s texting his crush?”

Nobara grins, leaning back in her chair.

“Definitely.”

You bite your lip, doing your best to keep your composure while peeking at your phone.

Sorry for the mess. Meet me later in my dorm?

This is going to get much harder to hide.

Later that night, when you and Megumi finally have a moment to yourselves at his dorm, he sighs heavily, dropping down onto the couch beside you. He looks exhausted, and not just from the missions. The day’s events have clearly taken their toll.

“This is getting ridiculous,” he mutters, rubbing his temples.

You smile softly, leaning into his side.

“It’s kind of your fault, you know.”

Megumi groans.

“I know.”

There’s a moment of silence as you both sit there, the weight of your secret relationship pressing down on you. But it’s not a bad weight. It’s more like a blanket, warm and comforting, something shared between the two of you. Something that’s just yours.

Still, you can’t help but tease him.

“You’re really bad at lying.”

Megumi turns his head to look at you, a small, exasperated smile pulling at his lips.

“Shut up.”

You laugh quietly, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the tension melt away as his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining. For now, it’s just the two of you, and that’s all that matters.

“Maybe we should tell them,” you suggest softly, half-joking.

Megumi’s body stiffens for a second, but then he relaxes, a soft hum escaping his throat.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, voice low.

“But not yet.”

You smile, content with the secrecy for now. It’s your little world, and as chaotic as it is, it’s yours to navigate together.

And for now, that’s enough.

Bonus:

The decision to finally tell them wasn’t exactly well-planned. In fact, it wasn’t planned at all.

It happened after another long day of training. Yuji had been particularly insufferable, constantly pestering Megumi about his “mystery crush,” while Nobara was fuming over how Megumi wouldn’t let her in on the secret.

You and Megumi exchanged looks all day, the unspoken question hanging between you both: Should we just tell them?

By the time the sun set and everyone was lounging in the common area, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Nobara was pacing the room, practically radiating with frustration, while Yuji sat on the edge of the couch, watching Megumi like a hawk.

You were sitting next to Megumi, trying not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. You hadn’t expected the pressure to mount like this. They’d been relentless for days now.

“Okay, I’m done!”

Nobara throws her hands in the air, eyes narrowing at Megumi.

“I can’t take it anymore! You have to tell us. Who is it?”

Yuji nods rapidly, his eyes wide and pleading.

“Please, man, just tell us! The suspense is killing me.”

Megumi lets out a long, exasperated sigh. He’s been handling this for a week now, and it’s clearly taken its toll. He shoots you a quick, sideways glance, silently asking for your input.

You shrug with a small smile, mouthing.

“Your call.”

With another sigh, Megumi straightens up and clears his throat.

“Fine,” he says, his voice firm.

“I’ll tell you.”

Both Nobara and Yuji freeze, their eyes going wide with excitement.

“Finally!” Nobara yells, nearly vibrating with impatience.

“Okay, okay. Who is it? Is it someone we know?” Yuji questions, leaning in closer.

Megumi looks at you again, and you give him a reassuring nod.

Then, with a small smirk tugging at his lips, Megumi casually slips his hand into yours, right there in front of them.

At first, there’s silence. Complete, deafening silence.

Yuji’s mouth falls open, eyes flicking between your joined hands and your faces, his brain clearly short-circuiting.

Nobara, on the other hand, just stares. Blinks. Then her hands slowly rise to cover her mouth, her eyes growing impossibly wide.

“Wait—” Yuji finally speaks, voice squeaking a little.

“YOU—YOU AND—”

Megumi sighs.

“Yeah. Me and (y/n). We’ve been dating for a while now.”

That’s when all hell breaks loose.

“WHAT?!” Yuji practically screams, jumping up from the couch and pointing at your intertwined hands like they’re some sort of mythical creature.

“NO WAY! This whole time? You guys were dating this whole time?!”

Nobara just starts shrieking incoherently. It’s a mix of disbelief and outrage, her voice a high-pitched wail as she dramatically collapses onto the couch like she’s been personally betrayed.

“YOU HID THIS FROM US?!” she yells, clutching a pillow like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

“HOW COULD YOU?! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!”

You burst out laughing, unable to keep it in any longer. Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting every choice that led to this moment.

Yuji is pacing now, running his hands through his hair, still trying to process everything.

“How did I not see it? I mean, I thought you had a crush, but I didn’t think it was… this!” he gestures wildly between the two of you, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Oh my God!” Nobara yells again, standing up suddenly.

“This is insane! You’ve been sneaking around this whole time? That’s it. I demand details! Right now. How long has this been going on?”

“Yeah!” Yuji chimes in, pointing accusingly at Megumi.

“How did you manage to keep this a secret from me of all people?”

You laugh again, raising your hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay, calm down! It’s been a few months. We just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“A few months?” Nobara shrieks, grabbing Yuji’s arm like she needs to hold onto something before she passes out.

“That’s practically a year in relationship time! How did you keep this from us? I’m so offended right now.”

“I knew you were acting weird!” Yuji exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

“All those times you disappeared, Megumi! I knew something was up!”

Megumi groans, running a hand through his hair.

“You guys are overreacting.”

“Overreacting? This is the most exciting thing that’s happened all year and you hid it from us! You’re for the streets, Fushiguro!” Nobara echoes, voice high-pitched with disbelief.

Yuji nods, agreeing way too quickly.

“Yeah, we need details. Dates, first kiss, how did it start, everything.”

Before you can answer, a familiar voice interrupts the chaos.

“Oh, you guys are just figuring this out now?”

You all turn to see Gojo leaning casually against the doorway, a smug grin plastered on his face, arms crossed like he’s been watching this unfold for a while.

“What?” Nobara screeches again.

“YOU KNEW?!”

Gojo shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Obviously. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out.”

Yuji’s jaw drops to the floor.

“You didn’t tell us?”

Gojo tilts his head, grinning.

“And ruin the fun of watching you two idiots freak out? Why would I do that?”

Nobara looks like she’s about to combust.

“So, you just let us suffer, while you were sitting there knowing the whole time?!”

Gojo shrugs again, completely unbothered.

“You’re welcome.”

Yuji groans, dramatically flopping onto the couch beside Nobara.

“I can’t believe this. I feel so betrayed.”

Nobara crosses her arms, huffing.

“Yeah, same. This is worse than the time Yuji ate my fries.”

“Hey, that was an accident!” Yuji protests.

Nobara glares at him.

“It was not an accident.”

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[averycutesalamander]

pls write yan!boothill OMG WHO SAID THAT

ohoho....!! i must confess that im quite picky when it comes to yandere content, bc i don't particularly like the extreme end of the spectrum. physical violence and straight noncon in particular don't click for me (absolutely no shade to people who like that tho, you do you!!) buuuuuuut ..... i mean, im the one writing?? so i can do whatever i want??? so alright here you go :) also check my reblog for.. a lot of rambling lmao

may i present to you: my interpretation of boothill in love, but he has a few too many screws loose. warning for relatively vague descriptions of violence and, uh... yandere stuff. you know how it goes.

In all honesty, Boothill is not a "love at first sight" type. His attraction to you is a gradual, budding thing, built over many repeated encounters. He's emotionally isolated himself, after all - built a wall thick enough to muffle the whispers of his past, smothering it in a slurry of rage and sorrow. It'll take time for him to let down his guard for long enough to even register the feelings you conjure in him - a flutter in his chest every time you smile at him, a spark of joy every time he makes you laugh, a strike of fondness every time he looks at your pretty face when you aren't paying attention.

And beneath it all, a low, simmering greed, a hunger, a yearning; the urge to bite and devour and never let go.

The pressure builds with time, as the two of you grow closer. He visits often, though not so often that it would catch the IPC's attention. You laugh and joke and tease, playfully flirting with him yet keeping a healthy, platonic distance. (He very pointedly and stubbornly ignores the way his heart soars when you look at him like that - like you want to pull him into your bed and let him take you apart, piece by ruinous piece. It's just harmless fun, after all.)

(Right?)

Despite the yawning fractures in the wall he's created, despite the increasing complexity of his feelings for about you, he still hasn't untangled whatever complicated web of feelings that's arisen around you, content to leave himself oblivious for the time being - until you make a joke about him marrying you and sweeping you away on some bizarre galactic adventure, and he damn-near bluescreens.

(He hates, hates, hates that the first thing he feels is something adjacent to the feeling a cat gets when it finally corners a particularly unruly mouse, akin to the thrill he gets whenever an enemy exposes a weakness. A sick, twisted kind of satisfaction.)

His mind churns as the wall cracks, wavers-

...and crumbles.

He panics. He makes a flimsy excuse about getting a notification through his neurochip, about needing to help out a fellow ranger - and he feels even better worse when you believe him unhesitatingly, sending him off with a sweet little "Be safe!" just as you always do.

It's only after he leaves the planet that he thinks about how much you've grown to trust him, about how damn gullible you are, about how often you give him the benefit of the doubt, about how kindly you've always treated him in spite of (or perhaps because of) his dozens of strange quirks. Everything unravels, threads spilling from his fraying mind and spilling between his fingers, and when the tattered fabric settles-

He simply can't deny it. He's in love with you.

It takes some time for him to piece himself back together - weeks of complete silence from him, your texts going unanswered. Every time he sees a fresh notification from you, his heart twists with guilt - but he's not ready to face the music. Not yet.

He comes crawling back to you, sooner or later. He knocks on your door with the most sheepish, guilt-ridden look on his face that you've ever seen, a rich bouquet laden with yellow roses and purple hyacinths tucked timidly in his arms. He lies about why he left - says it was all because of a mission that got more complicated than it should have, and it wasn't safe to reply to your messages - but when he tells you that he's sorry, he means it genuinely.

He's a bit disturbed by the sensation in his gut - that foul, wicked satisfaction when you accept his apology with barely a slap on the wrist, cheerily inviting him inside to catch up. You tuck the flowers neatly into a vase, chatting easily with him as you carefully arrange them.

"It's alright!" you say, waving dismissively at him when he murmurs another apology. "I know you're busy. I can't be your biggest priority, obviously. You've got more important things going on."

(You don't have a clue how wrong you are.)

He integrates back into your life like he never left. When he has the time, he sneaks his way back onto your planet, knocking on your door or searching for you in your usual spots. You get impossibly closer; your playful flirting goes from blatantly humorous to something foggier, something more ambiguous, teasing the line between platonic and something heavier. He matches you step by step, returning your advances with just a little extra spice, his eyes a bit darker and his smile a bit wider.

He tries to be patient - god, does he try - but there's an itch that's bloomed beneath his metal, impossible to scratch, impossible to sate, made worse by every little joke you make about kissing him or touching him or marrying him or letting him spirit you away. The pressure builds further and further, the tension winding tighter and tighter, the anticipation bubbling higher and higher.

(He will never, ever admit that he truly contemplates stealing you away, crowding you onto a ship and carting you off so he can always keep an eye on you, can always guarantee your safety. His paranoia has been building since he recognized his feelings for you; it's taken every ounce of restraint in his body to stop himself from giving into the urge, from crowding you, from suffocating you, from locking you away like a fragile songbird in a cage.)

(He's torn between his protectiveness and his understanding that you deserve freedom. You deserve independence and a life that isn't tied directly to him. He doesn't even know if you return his feelings. But...)

(But there's that nagging feeling in the back of his head, that pestering little voice that grows louder by the day. You'll be safer with me, it says, dark and tempting, bursting behind his teeth. I can make you happy. I can keep you safe. I can show you pieces of the universe that you've never seen before. I can love you like no one else ever could. I can hold you and cherish you and consume you and-)

(He takes that little voice and wraps his hands tight around its throat, frantically trying to suffocate the noise, terrified by its allure. But it's always there, lingering, lurking - because the call is coming from inside the house.)

Something gives, eventually.

When he inevitably breaks, his lips crashing heatedly and messily into yours, there are two paths ahead - but the difference is ultimately moot, because they collide not long after.

Perhaps you reciprocate. Perhaps you melt against his lips, your arms coiling around his shoulders and drawing him further into you. Perhaps you whimper when his hands trail downward, squeezing at your hips. Perhaps you pull away with a gasp, your pupils blown wide, your heart pounding when you see the look in his eye - dark and hot and desperate and hungry. Perhaps you accept his quiet declaration of affection with open arms, returning it in full, your eyes sparkling with joy.

Or perhaps you reject him. Perhaps you freeze like a startled deer before pushing him away, your face slack with shock. Perhaps you apologize, stumbling over your words, your heart thundering in your chest when you see the look in his eye - dark and cold and empty and hungry. Perhaps you gently tell him that you don't feel that way about him - that you only see him as a friend.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter.

...Because Boothill - careful, meticulous Boothill - has slipped up, and the IPC finds you.

After he leaves next, whether that be with a broken heart or a giddy one, a trio of IPC employees pluck you up from the street in broad daylight, shoving you into a dark transport ship for "questioning." And once they bring you to an IPC space station, they do indeed question you - though it feels more like an interrogation, considering that you've been tied ankle-and-wrist to a chair like you're a dangerous serial killer and not a regular civilian.

"Suspected colluding with the criminal known as Boothill," your "interviewer" tells you flatly, idly thumbing at the knife in their hand. "Camera footage, reports from neighbors, records from his Synesthesia Beacon... All clearly show that he has made repeated visits to your planet and your home. We're in the business of knowing why."

Perhaps you keep your mouth shut and refuse to divulge anything, no matter how close that knife gets to your bare skin. Perhaps you break when it begins to slice into your flesh, drawing blood from your body and tears from your eyes and stuttered words from your lips. Perhaps you grit your teeth and bear it, unwilling to betray the man you've grown so fond of.

Or perhaps you cave immediately. Perhaps you sell him down the river the first chance you get, frantic explanations spilling from your lips. Perhaps you tell them that you had no idea he had such a massive bounty on his head. Perhaps you panic when they find the information insufficient and draw the knife on you anyway, deaf to your begging and pleading as they wet your skin with blood.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter.

...Because a distant explosion rocks the entire space station, and the flashing lights from the silent alarms interrupt your interrogation.

You're left alone when the IPC agent flees, locking the door behind them with a heavy clunk. Minutes pass as you fumble desperately with your restraints, your body pulsing with pain; a cacophony of gunshots and screaming penetrates the thick walls, growing louder and louder, your heart pounding faster and faster.

There's a noise just outside the door - a horrifically wet noise, like raw flesh on tile. You freeze like a rabbit that's just heard the panting of a starving wolf, far too close for comfort.

Silence. Your head aches from the flashing red lights.

Suddenly, steel fingers wedge into the gap between the locked door and the wall, single-handedly tearing it open and breaking the hydraulic lock with inhuman ease. Metal crunches and squeals, piercing the quiet - and there he stands, right in the doorway, a silhouette of black and red.

Never in your life have you seen him this manic.

His white hair drips with scarlet and his teeth are bared; his eyes are alight with rage, a shock of bright crimson among the dark smears of blood and viscera that coat him head to toe. In the light of the alarms, he looks like the perfect picture of a killer from a horror movie; violence and slaughter, just waiting to be unleashed. When his gaze locks onto you, there is a long moment of utter stillness; instinctual terror floods your entire body in a cold flash, because there isn't so much as a glimmer of humanity in those eyes - only pure, boiling, ravenous, frantic anger.

For a heartbeat, you're convinced he's going to rip you apart with his teeth.

Then, as if he finally registers who you are, the madness evaporates, replaced by a nearly manic sort of relief. He rushes to your side, looking you over; you don't miss the flash in his eyes - seething, smoking fire - when he spots your injuries. In the same breath, he snuffs it out, focusing instead on breaking your binds with his bare hands.

You're already crying when he takes you up into his arms, cradling you close to his chest and unwittingly smearing IPC blood onto you. "It's alright, sweetheart," he murmurs, soft and reassuring, a beacon of comfort in a sea of terror. "I'm right here. I've got ya. No one's ever gonna take ya from me again, okay?"

(Maybe if you weren't in shock, you'd be startled by his words. As it stands, though, they're like music to your ears, like a warm blanket settled over your shoulders, like a tight hug from someone you trust with your life.)

He encourages you to press your face into his shoulder - mercifully free of blood - as he carries you through the carnage he's left in his wake, the jangle of his spurs and your muffled sobs echoing through the silent halls. Your entire body shivers at the noise of him stepping into some unidentifiable slurry of viscera, and he thumbs at your back in an effort to soothe you, speaking quietly into your ear about everything and nothing.

Time passes in a blur of tears. He takes you to the ship he, uh... commandeered to get here, ducking into the bathroom and settling you gently - so very gently - onto the floor. Or, rather, he tries to - because your fingers are frozen stiff in his jacket, your grip unrelenting.

"You just wait here for a sec, alright?" he whispers softly, the chill of his hand settling lightly against your wrist; the blood there still feels warm to your delirious mind. "Gotta get the autopilot started, okay? I'll be right back."

You're both surprised when you shake your head insistently, your eyes wet and pleading. In an instant, he softens, his heart aching in his chest.

"Alright, sweetpea," he breathes, carefully picking you up again. "I've got ya."

He keeps you cradled to his chest as he walks to the cockpit, holding you easily with one arm as he gets the ship moving. Reinforcements are on the way, no doubt - but you'll both be long gone by the time they get here.

(Maybe the IPC will get the message when they find the scene he's left behind - when they view the camera footage and see the rampage he went on. Decapitation and disembowelment is a new one, even for him...)

(...but he needed to make it clear that no one, no one, touches what's his and gets away with it.)

When the engine is purring beneath his feet and the rumble of FTL travel is humming in the walls, he brings you back to the washroom and settles you to the tile again, gently untangling your grip from his jacket. You're in shock, he's sure, so he's careful to continue talking to you as he wets a towel with warm water, murmuring soft reassurances as he wipes the blood from your skin, handling you like you're glass.

Once you're clean, he messily towels himself off to get the worst of the mess off, then brings you to the captain's quarters, digging around in the closet to find something comfortable for you. Your shaking fingers cause you trouble, so he gently eases your ruined clothes off, his eyes respectfully averted as he helps you redress. He takes one look at the messy, used bedding and promptly decides to change the sheets. (Something within him stirs and snarls at the thought of you smelling like anyone else.)

Finally, when all is said and done, he eases you beneath the covers, brushing away the last remnants of your tears. His heart is torn between singing with joy and aching with pain when you reach up and take his hand in yours, your fingers wrapping tight around his.

"Gotta go wash up, honey," he murmurs, watching you closely as you sink into the protective huddle of the blankets, exhaustion painting your features. "That alright? I'll be fast."

(He tries very hard to ignore the flutter in his chest from the look in your eye - like you're genuinely considering whether or not you need to stay near him, like you aren't sure if you can bear the distance.)

(He also tries very hard to ignore the little pang of disappointment when you slowly nod, releasing his hand.)

He cleans himself up with record efficiency, resigning himself to wearing clothes that are a size or two too small until he can wash his usual outfit. The clothes are for your sake, really; it's not like he has any, uh... equipment to expose - not yet - but he's relatively sure that it would make you uncomfortable anyway.

By the time he steps lightly into the room again, you're asleep.

For a long, long moment, he's struck stupid by the sight of you, by the softness of your face in rest.

Fuck, you're beautiful. He knows it in his heart, feels it in his core, senses it in his chest - you're the prettiest little thing he's ever seen.

(And you're all his, now.)

His fists clench, and he swallows down the thought like bitter poison. (You deserve better than this - better than him. He's a broken man, he knows - a messy reconfiguration of a thousand corpses, glued together by hatred and grief. He could never love you the way you deserve. He could never-)

He's broken from his rapidly spiraling thoughts when you twitch, a tiny furrow appearing in your brow. A surge of emotion nearly bursts in his chest - the urge to comfort, to protect, to soothe - and he slowly circles to the other side of the bed, climbing into the empty space and settling beneath the blankets. Hesitantly, he wraps one arm lightly around your waist, drawing you against him with your back pressed tight to his chest.

His heart soars when he feels you instantly relax, the tension fleeing your body.

(It's fine. This is fine. He'll make everything better. No matter what he has to do, who he has to kill, he'll make everything better.)

A handful of days pass like that. When he stops by a market to get supplies for you, he gently tells you that it's best for you to stay in the ship for now; odds are that you actually have a bounty on your head as well, now.

(He's not wrong - but he also doesn't need to disable the button on the inside of the ship that opens the exit hatch. You don't need to know that; he doesn't need to acknowledge that.)

As time passes, he tries not to suffocate you, tries not to hover, wary of putting you under any more stress - but it's ultimately a useless task.

When you finally, tentatively ask him about going home, his brain goes numb, the world snapping into sharp focus. He turns his gaze to you, disturbingly absent of emotion.

"It ain't safe for ya there, now that those IPC dogs know to look for ya," he says, his voice far too even.

When tears begin to bud in your eyes, it finally sweeps up some sympathy in his chest, his entire face softening. He takes your shaking hands in his, tenderly grazing your knuckles with his thumbs.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he rasps, reaching up to wipe away your tears.

(He's barely sorry.)

"I don't like it either, but..."

(Yes, he does.)

"It's safest for ya to stick with me, alright?"

(Wishful thinking. He could find somewhere for you to stay - some quiet planet outside of the IPC's reach, where you could live without worry. He could send you credits regularly. He could make sure you were happy and secure, independent of him.)

(He could. He should.)

(He won't.)

[sinning-23]

please please please do different arcane/opla character's kinks???? (preferably some Jayce but yk-)

OMG I was just returning to arcane roots. Mind you I haven't seen the recent season (Im waiting for my mom and sister since we all watched dit together) UHH take these smutty lil kinky lil headcanona!

P.s For as much smut as i write I have the hardest time remembering the differences between kinks and fetishes BUT I think I got it down lol. Bare with me yall.

P.P.S. I'll make a part two with some more of these guys lol I started to draw a blank on a few and get burnt out but I want to provide QUALITY writing to y'all

Enjoy-

Silco

Yknow every time I come on this god forsaken app I find myself thirsting over dead midleages if not older men....

Ahem

Smoking and Begging I feel like would be two kinks of his. And like he already is a smoker so just translating that over to the bedroom....oof.

I feel like he's the type to smoke after or before, but like in a way that relaxes him even further? YK what I'm saying? Perhaps he'll even offer you some with a firm grip on your face while he blows smoke into your mouth, just before he kisses you.

I also think the begging gets him hot under the collar. Just the idea of his partner asking so desperately for release knowing he's in control of whether they're allowed to or not really does it for him. He's ruthless but sweet in the most deliciously contradicting way. Saying things like, " Begging is so unbecoming of you my dear," or "You can beg better than that, I thought you wanted to cum?"

Sevika

Sevika my belovedddddd <3 come home baby the kids miss you lmao. Sevika seems like the type to be down for a lot but also has her limits? One thing that really gets her going though is overstim/multiple orgasms. Please let her pull as many as she can from you its literally her favorite thing watching her partner come undone. She likes to see how messy you get and how your thighs tremble and shake, damn near tensing up from the strain.

She starts slow. Maybe two...then three more.....how bout we shoot for 4 to 5? SIx you say?! Alright, let's just say fuck it and go for 7.

"C'mon, you can give me one more. Thatssss it, let go."

Vander

This is a harworking, loving, family man okay. He doesn't have time for a lot...However, he definitely has time to just have you squeeze down on him with those hot, wet walls, simply existing. Ahhh yes the art of cockwarming in cwich he is an expert in. Hes a sneaky fucker too, taking time to just position you in front of him so he can slip his cock into you, just enjoying your warmth. No movement, just there, your back to his chest, pretending like nothing is happening behind the counter.

He especially enjoys the late nights, your bodies melted into one as you just sinkkkkk down on him, just adjusting to his length, fighting the urge to move as does he. Just that's part of the fun. Expect lots of soft gentled caresses as yout walls memorize him

Vi

Babygirls got a thing for hot chicks in uniform. Be in business attire, military, or otherwise, she loves it.

I mean, honestly, I was not hot about clean white button-downs tucked into fancy dress pants adorned by emblems of silver or gold. A nice neat hairstyle, no flyaways, very much office siren.

And please god don't let you have a snappy domineering attitude, telling her what to do, sexily taunting. Babygirl will be weak in the knees.

Jinx

I don’t think she’d have any kinks if I’m being honest. I see Jinx as a very experimental and fun but soft and vanilla lover. She enjoys being treated softly and gentle, especially in a moment of vulnerability like being intimate with a partner.

Viktor

I hate to be the one to say it but stalkings/knee highs and glasses… Yall HEAR ME OUTTT HEAR ME OUT! I know that sounds really bad but if you see the vision. I feel like Viktor is a lover of pretty things, patterns and decoration. The feeling of lace or tights under his fingertips, the thrill of being the one who gets to remove your glasses before you go down on him.

All is truly a treat in his pretty yellow eyes. Especially when it's his beloved and devoted partner. He takes his time with you treating you delicately as he pulls the fabric off your kneesocks away to reveal pretty legs he gets to you all the way up to the main prize. He likes taking his time unwrapping his gifts. His favorite part is discarding it all from your body. Or at the very least, making you do it.

"Strip." He hums, leaning forward as you shed layers of clothes with a smile.

Ekko

At first I was thinking that mmm Ekko doesn't have any really kinks. Maybe he’s more vanilla but then I got thinking…

Nah nah this guy..

He likes being bitten.

Oddly enough he wasn’t sure why when you had first done it on impulse, the two of you in one of your more intimate moments. You hand grazed his shoulder, only applying slight pressure before stopping yourself from going too hard but the sound it pulled form him. Gorgeous.

“D-Do it again. Please?” He asks, lifting a bit above your too see your glossed fucked our eyes.

“Bite you?” You reiterate, trying to read him and it’s nothing but pure lust and adoration.

“Baby, please.” He huffs, lulling his neck to the side, giving you access.

Please mark him up he really likes it.

[echantedtoon]

Lmao, so this one is going to be a crazy!

Reader who in fun tries to summon a demon with her friends and ends up proposing a marriage to the demon in joke. Nothing happens. But as soon as her friends left and she is left cleaning there, the demon actually appears and accepts her offer and refuses to leave. The demon is serious about the proposal and considers her his wife. She eventually gives and by time they do adjust and actually end up falling for each other??? (Btw, the demon is only visible to those he wishes to see him. So whenever reader goes to work he accompanies her.)

(you can choose any one between Kokushibo or Akaza to write for this. And I'm sorry if it's too much to ask or causes any issue-)

HERE YOU GO!!

(warning for demon summoning if that makes you uncomfortable. I just made up some stuff for this based off video games where that happened hope that's ok.)

"Let's summon a demon!"

A thunderstorm rolled across the sky that night. The sun was just setting over the horizon with the last few rays of daylight disappearing but it was hard to tell when the dark storm clouds took over the sky and claimed them as their own. Thunder shaking the lanes of the windows and lightning sounded off like an angry whip from whatever deity was angrily stomping around the clouded skies, lighting up the sky and city below for nothing but a brief second.

It would've been absolutely dark if you hadn't lit up a few candles inside the comfy room and placed them on the table to light up the room. The warm light comforting against the scary night sky that just appeared as the last few daylights were chased away. The candlelight was pretty but you might be asking yourself one question. Why are you using candles to light up the room when you can just turn on the light switch on the wall or use a flashlight like a normal person?

Well because it wasn't your idea. It was your friend's. 

If it were up to you, your bedroom light would've been on in an instant and you four wouldn't be sitting here in the dark. But as another thunder clap shook the sky outside, her face had scrunched up into a mischievous grin wide enough to let the other three ladies around her know that she had come up with a devious idea. It started when of your friends said that they were bored during the usual sleep over activities and so you suggested watching a scary movie instead! 

"How about The Death Book?"

"What's it about?"

"It's about this girl who finds this blank diary and everything she writes in it becomes true! It turns out the diary is possessed by a demon who becomes obsessed with her and grants her wishes with horrible twists!"

That's when your most devious friend gotten that look before hijacking the convo. "I have a better idea! Y/n, you have any candles?"

"Only scented candles. Why?"

"That'll work! Go get them all and we'll do something that's actually thrilling!"

You had no idea what she was talking about but decided to humor her and go get them and matches she asked for. You had a few scented candles collecting up space in your closet, most were Christmas gifts you were just planning on regifting that year anyways since you never really used them. But you were curious about what your friend was up too so you grabbed up all the bars, the different scents making your nose snort, and brought them out to everyone watching you take them out of your closet and plopping them down on your bed. Your friend then proceeded to grab a glass jar containing a 'holiday sugar cookie' scented white candle, lit it, and then got up to turn off the lights and ask you to close the curtains. 

Oh! She wanted to do the classic ghost story telling in the dark game! Nope. As soon as you turned around and you along with your other two friends looked at her, the statement left her mouth.

"Let's summon a demon!"

The three of you stared at her and her smile lit up by the scented candle, a nice scent of sugar cookies in the air. The only sounds being the thunder still rumbling outside. Eventually one of you broke the weird silence.

"You mean like...Use a ouija board? That's something everyone does at sleepovers-"

"No! I meant actually summon a demon!," she corrected excitedly clenching a fist!

"Uh..Have you lost your dam mind?"

"Oh come on! We all know that ghosts and stuff don't exist anyways!" She waved a hand dismissively. "We've tried using a ouija board since we were ten but nothing ever happened so why not try taking it up a notch!"

"Because it sounds like a waste of time." You deadpanned raising a brow. "Why go through all the effort to do something when we already KNOW that it's just stupid Hollywood stuff?"

"For the thrill of it!" You three looked at each other. Two of you having bored looks while the third looked worried. "Come on! Just this once! And if nothing happens I'll pay for two pizzas from that pizza place we all like!"

"...Throw in those chicken tenders and a couple sodas and you have a deal," your bored friend bluntly stated.

"DEAL!"

"I don't know.." Your friend that looked worried frowned. "This is how a bunch of horror stories start. What if something really happens?"

"PSH. It won't. If nothing happened when we used a ouija board then we got nothing to worry about!"

"And you just magically happen to know how to summon a demon how?"

"Not just a demon!" Her hand pointed up as she grinned. "A Yokai!"

"A yo-..What?"

"A Yokai! Or oni if you prefer to call it that instead! It's a Japanese spirit!"

"We know what that is! And you happen to know that how?"

"During my culture studies at school I was studying the local folklore and stumbled onto an old legend of the area! They say that a night monster used to roam the lands and strike down people every full moon until a shrine was put up for him. It's still there now! I visited it during a school trip!" She explained excitedly. "I did an interview with the caretaker for my extra credit report and it turns out his family's descendants of the shrine maidens that used to be there!"

"That's good and all but that still doesn't answer my question."

Your friend groaned loudly and slumped her shoulders with an eye roll. "He said the shrine maidens used to have a symbiotic relationship with the specific oni. They'd perform a ritual once a year on a new moon or full moon to summon him and leave him really good offerings. If he liked it enough he might grant you something in return!"

"And he told you how to summon this thing?"

"Yeah because he didn't believe in it. I don't either since ghosts and goblins only exist in books and movies. But what's the harm? If nothing happens I'm buying everyone food and we can have a good laugh if we do happen to summon something we might get a wish granted! Whaddya say?"

There was more silence from you three until your bored friend sighed and rolled her eyes from where she sat. "Fine I guess. Sounds like a win win situation. And I wouldn't mind getting an A on my next math exam."

You sighed. "Alright. Let's just get this over with."

"That's the spirit! But first thing's first!.. Does anyone know if it's a new or full moon tonight?"

Your nervous friend, who still looked nervous, had to pull out her phone and look it up online. The glow of the screen making her face light up in the dark as the thunder still rang out and the first few raindrops began hitting the roof of your home.

"Full moon b-b-but does it count if the storm is blocking out the sky?"

"He only told me it has to be a full of new moon, not that you had to see the moon. We're also gonna  need right white candles to represent the right moon phases, something red to draw the symbols in, and an offering from each of us that has some kind of connection to our wishes!" Her eyes lit up in excitement. "Let's try it out!"

If it got you free food and your rowdiest friend to be quiet, then you weren't going to complain. So you four got to work. A friend found an extra red lipstick when she dug out her bag and like you said before, you had a bunch of scented candles you weren't using....but that begs the question.

"Does scented candles even count?" You gazed down at two white scented candles with the scents labeled 'fresh morning snow' and 'shortbread blast'. 

"He just said that the candles had to be white, not that they couldn't be scented."

"Yeah. But there's another problem. I only have seven white candles. .." Your eyes looked around the mini candle collection. The others were different colors like the red one that smelt like cinnamon and the purplish-black one labeled 'midnight lilacs'. Eventually you found a glimmer of white in the limited darkness with only your phone to see, and pulled out a candle that was half white half brown labeled 'chocolate and vanilla delight'. "I got a brown and white one. Does that count?"

"We're gonna have to make due with it. Well just put the white half facing the center and maybe that'll help."

Well if that's all you had then you four really were going to have to make due with what you had on hand. One friend helped you cleared up space in your room at least a yard and a half clear, while your devious friend drew red lipstick marks onto your floor and the fourth began placing the candles in a circle around her lighting them up as she went until both stepped away and you four were left looking down at the circle of eight candles and three symbols in the center of them. Lightning clashed outside behind the curtains barely lighting up the room but you managed to make out three words written in Japanese kanji in red lipstick.

Upper. Moon. And One.

You didn't know what that meant but it was ominous in your eyes. The room smelt far too heavy with the pretty scents of sugar cookies, vanilla, daisies, and a few other scents. It was overwhelming and one of you snorted from it all.

"Dam. It smells like someone spilt the entire isle of Fabreath from Wallace-Market in here." She waved a hand before pinching her nose and turning to her. "So what now?"

"Now we put down an offering related to what we want to wish for? Like if you wanted to wish for a million dollars you put down like some rare collector coins or something! Just look around and see what you got!"

While the others looked through their bags, you mindlessly searched around the room for something meaningless you could just throw meaninglessly into the circle. Your eyes gazed over at your jewelry box...and you shrugged. Why not? You had a pair of thick hooped silver earrings your uncle gave you for your birthday last year. They were even real silver, just cheap copper ones painted to look silver. You never wore them anyways so they'd be perfect for this. You opened up the lid narrowing your eyes into a squint. Despite the light of your phone, it was hard to see in the dark. Your hand moved things around inside the box. Old necklaces and things jingling until you saw them. Ah! There they were! Right next to your great grandparents' wedding rings. Now THOSE were actually worth a lot. Real gold and studded with real diamonds. You inherited them box along with their old jewelry box but that didn't matter right now. You wanted the useless tacky earrings next to them. Even now most of the shiny silver paint had peeled off revealing the cheap copper hoops underneath.

"C'mon Y/n! Hurry up! I want that pizza as soon as possible!"

You looked around mindlessly just reaching in and grabbing two round things into your hand. "Coming!"

"What did you grab?" Her brow rose as you just rolled your eyes. 

"Just some old jewelry. What about you?"

She held up an ink stone. Probably got it from her school bag. "I was gonna use it for an art project but since I want an A for my exam and I have to write on the test, it was a good enough match."

"Sounds like a good start."

Your other two friends pulled out a book on rare poetry and a small bag of store bought mochi candy. ...Strange offering but you guessed it was the only thing that they could find. Your friend instructed you all placed the offerings on the strange words in Japanese and stepped back without a second thought to look at them....And you four stood there in your pajamas with nothing but the candles to light up the darkness and the rain still pounding at your rooftop.

Silence other than the storm rang out and you four looked around the room exchanging looks sometimes.

".....Is that it?"

"I told you it was a waste of time! Let's just get some food now. I'm starving!"

"Wait! I forgot about the last important step!" She held up her hands as your mutual grumpy and hungry friend turned to go flip on the light switch. "I need to chant the incantation and then we have to say what we want!"

Her arms folded. "Well get on with it! I'm hungry and this is really not fun!"

"Alright, alright! Let me try to remember what the guy told me!"

She stood there staring at the mess of lit candles and lipstick smeared kanji scrunching her brows in deep thought. You and your grumpy friend exchanged mirrored deadpanned looks before she cleared her throat and held her arms out.

"Full moon on the rise. New moon hides from eyes. Abyss of darkness conquering the skies! We summon, summon him from the ground. To our circle lit and round. Oh one who walks the path of Moon, we come once more to ask you soon! Come from slumber, to seek out what we offer! Great one of Moon bound light, we ask for you to once more walk the night!"

Her voice shouted out loud enough that you were sure you'd be getting a complaint from the neighbors tomorrow morning. As she finished her chant, a lightning bolt struck out temporarily lighting up the sky outside as the rain poured out...As you all waited looking around more.

"Would you look at that? Nothing happened again. NOW can we get food?"

"Wait! We didn't say what we wanted yet!," she protested to her, "The wish is a part of the ritual so let's complete it ok?!" Your friend groaned but she quickly excitedly exclaimed. "I wish my mom would finally give me the secrets to famous udon recipe so I can start selling it myself!"

"Um..." You nervous friend cautiously and worriedly looked around the dark room. "C-Can I m-meet my favorite author please? O-Only if that's ok! I'm fine if nothing happens really!"

"Oh what the hell. I want an A on my next exam."

...All three looked at you expectantly. "What?"

"Say something, Y/n." 

"Like what?"

"I don't know. What did you put down?"

You shrugged. "Some cheap jewelry I don't want honestly."

"OOOH. Wish for something good then! Oh! Oh! I see you always sitting by yourself! Ask him to get you a boyfriend?," you friend teased making you laugh.

"Really? We summon a Yokai just for me to ask him for a boyfriend? If he was real, he'd probably think I was crazy."

"Well it doesn't have to be a boyfriend. You can ask for a sign of who you're meant to be with." That devious smile returned again. "Y'know that caretaker guy told me a lot of maidens would pay the shrine maidens to do rituals and summon the onis as offered brides in exchange for good fortune for their villages. Why don't you ask him to put a ring on it? You'd be the first person to be get a real life monster boyfriend. All the monster lovers on the Internet would be so jealous."

"Plus you're beautiful," your grumpy friend added also with a teasing grin. "You made home coming and prom queen in highschool!"

You laughed again. "Looks aren't everything." You could barely contain the giggles. You then rolled your eyes sarcastically. "But sure." Your hands clasped together and pressed against your chest as you spoke. "Oh great Oni please hear my pleas for your heart!" Even your nervous friend giggled along now as you dramatically fell to your knees. "Bind our blood in ceremony and let me share your name." A hand outstretched to no one as you fake acted out processing your love to an invisible imaginary person. "Under the stars of the heavens, I solemly swear, that this hand will always be kind and never cruel. That my voice will only speak truth. That this life is now forever yours." The outstretched hand pretended to take the imaginary person's hand. "Now as yours is mine."

A loud snort went off as one of your friends fell back on your bed where she sat giggling out the cheesy lines you were making up on the fly.

"Bind our souls to infinity and I will promise you love and devotion through sickness and health and beyond the realms of death." You continued to speak remembering some lines from a rom com chick flick you saw last night. "I will love you in all your forms now and forever. Through several lifetimes and back." Your voice was low and smooth now speaking it like you meant it with pride. "From now to infinity. Unyielding. Untainted. Undeniable. With this voice I promise you my love and heart. With this offering, I ask you to be mine!" You then bowed your forehead to the floor as everyone continued to giggle loudly. 

You all continued to laugh and laugh and laugh as you finally broke into laughs again too and sat back up- 

And then all the candles went out at the same time.

Pitch black immediately enveloped the room and at once all laughs ceased. Nothing but silence rang out other than the rain and thunder and occasional strike of lightning. You four stayed silent as you all say there in the dark before your friend became grumpy again.

"Ok. Haha. Very funny, Y/n. Now we can't see shit!"

"That..w-wasnt me," you stuttered out staring at the floor in front of you silently and wide eyed.

"Sure it wasn't. You're literally kneeling in front of them!"

"I don't have the ability to blow out right giant candles at once! Besides some of them were out of my reached! I'd have to crawl over! It wasn't me!" 

"Well it's not me! I'm standing up!"

"It wasn't me!" "I'm sitting all the way over here on the bed."

Silence fell Once Again as you all sat there 

"....It must've just been a draft! There's no such thing as ghosts and demons! Get the light! I'm tired of this game now!"

Someone was heard stumbling and shuffling around in the dark before you heard hands patting along the wall and then a serious of clicks as someone tried turning on the lights. "It won't turn on!"

"No one panic!" Someone finally turned on the flashlight on their phone and lit up the room. "The storm just cut out the power supply. Let's just get some food and call it a night!"

"Wait! The offerings!"

The light shines towards the middle of the circle. One bag of mochi candy, an ink stone, and a book still laid there. Where was your earrings? You pushed the book aside and froze as you realized that it wasn't a cheap pair of earrings that greeted you..but one beautiful gold ring. 

"My great grandmother's ring!" You quickly snatched it up safely into your hands in horror. "I-I must've grabbed them by mistake!" Wait. You remembered feeling two hoops in your hands. "My great grandfather's ring!" Quickly you pushed aside everything else and was horrified to discover that it was gone. "IT'S MISSING!!"

"Calm down. It must've rolled away or someone accidentally kicked it in the dark. It's still around here."

"Yeah. And so is everything else. I CALLED IT! I TOLD you it wasn't gonna work! Now order the food!"

"B-But my ring!"

"It's too dark to look with the power out. Let's just wait until it's day time and then we'll look around. Ok?"

"I-...*sigh* Alright."

"GREAT! Now let's eat. And don't forget the chicken and drinks!"

Little did all of you know that the curtains were moved back on their own. Six eyes staring at your beautiful face and a glittering gold band wrapped around his ring finger.

[lorryicious]

do you perhaps have any more Loretta/Bill content I’m VERY curious about their dynamic now 👁️👁️

I HAVE. SO MUCH. CONTENT. Loretta has been an oc I have had for YEARS so I absolutely have SO much stuff on her! Shes definitely my favorite oc alongside Jack, my other gravity falls oc. The short of it is they are forced to work together out of inconvenience by the Axolotl.. The most recent development has been the change in Lorettas ability revolving her sight because I thought it would be so cool if Loretta had the same/similar kind of mutation to Bill. It didn't change much to her character, just another reason why they ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time (time police events. I seriously need to write fanfic of the whole story LMAO)

Their dynamic is SO FUN. They bicker ALL the time and usually are yapping about something. They live together, so I think they argue over the smallest things. When they first ended up needing to work together, Bill was not thrilled AT ALL. He was VERY closed off. Loretta, not knowing this creature at all, just decided to let him do his own thing. It's only after an event where Loretta protects Bill when he's at his weakest that Bill realizes Loretta is harmless and that it wouldn't hurt to try to get some enjoyment out of her company. That turns into an actual friendship, which turns into Bill finding out Loretta is like him. Through this, they open up and become closer because of their similar identities. They just ended up on different paths because of their own mutations AUGH. Bill wanted more, when in comparison Loretta was content with what her world was already like.

Loretta is a demon hunter. She takes bounties from individuals around town to get rid of weirdness. She naturally has a knack for attracting it, so the job is perfect for her. Bill helps her with her bounties; in exchange, Loretta lets Bill drain her energy so he can regain his physical form. I have a whole animatic on my tiktok that shows how the possession works-

They are silly. They fight over what to watch on the tv, they karaoke and drink together, it takes AGES for Bill to actually open up to Loretta, Whenever they decide to share the bed (even though Bill doesn't sleep) he kicks off Lorreta off of it anyway just to frustrate her, they do makeup together, They drive up to one of the hills in gravity falls via Loretta's motorcycle and watch the sunset together. Love them. I have SO many thoughts on their dynamic, but they are there for each other, and despite all their issues, they love each other. They NEVER say it to each other because Bill is deathly scared of that word.

They are an oc x canon ship so they are together as partners TECHNICALLY. Still, I also think they are so messed up via the canon story that an ACTUAL domestic relationship dynamic just doesn't work for the two. Plus, Bill needs help understanding labels and Loretta doesn't need them. Plus there's the Jack situation...Which is a WHOLE OTHER RANT. JACK. AUGH. The love triangle (literally) goes insane. In my happy au they are a polycule asf.

Literally ask ANY questions about them, I might even draw something up if its a fun scenario you guys send,,, I LOVE THAT PEOPLE ARE INTERESTED IN THE OCS BECAUSE !!!! I HAVE SO MUCH CONTENT FOR THEM.

Some of this is older art but it still works <33 and I STILL LOVE IT

This one I did recently-

Great side effect for being able to see outside your plane of reality AND being intertwined to a demon, you get to relive HIS trauma TOO!! (imagine how horrifying that was when Loretta told Bill the dreams shes been having) (double note: Bill played it off like they were random when he was FREAKING OUT ON THE INSIDE)

[thecreelhouse]

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love 💛

hi mari!! I’m so sorry I’m answering this so late 😭 it’s hard narrowing it down and changes tbh, but here’s some faves lol.

accident prone - (steve x fem OC!frankie) honestly, this has been my fave series I’ve written so far, exploring a HC about Steve’s trauma, as well as writing an unapologetic, disabled OC— After surviving the hell on earth that is Hawkins, Indiana, years of traumatic injuries and PTSD have left a permanent impact on Steve and his health. He’s sought out professional help time and time again, yet 5 years after leaving home, he’s still in constant pain, feeling isolated and misunderstood— until someone as sick as him comes along, renewing his hope on the future.

sudden desire - (steve x reader) You’re convinced sex is meaningless when every partner you’ve been with can never make you finish. Your best friend, Steve Harrington, is up to the challenge of changing that.

just a lover - (steve x reader) yet another best friends to lovers fic lmao. self indulgent, but also for any other babes who deal with vulvar pain/painful sex issues 🫂❤️‍🩹

part time soulmate, full time problem and the sequel, tramps like us - (gator tillman x f!reader) - this one was my first series after a hiatus for a few years, so the pacing is a bit wonky, and it bloomed from shameless smut to exploring gator’s character, trauma, and potential for growth. the sequel wasn’t planned either, and ik a lot of gator girlies weren’t thrilled with how i wrote him so far in this, but it’s been fun for me to write, so…. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

handle with care - (steve x reader) - meet cute/ugly AU inspired by the time i broke my tooth on someone’s forehead while stagediving LMAO

[fatuifucker]

ah ok! then can my trans scara request be in the catboy au pls? maybe for one of the camshows proposed by mr. zhongli :3 👉👈

soft dom trans! camboy! catboy! scaramouche x sub trans! fem-sex reader (he/him and masculine pronouns used for reader, no mention of breasts but mention of pussy)

WARNINGS = smut, penetration (reader + scara receiving), toys (vibrator + double-ended dildo + nipple clamps + buttplug + leash), livestreaming, role reversal, praise, pet play, use of "master" + "kitty" as pet names, use of word "cunt"

W/C = 1.2k

A/N = uhhhh i forgot how to write dom scara tbh LMAO also been wanting to write about double dildos for a while, don't really see a lot of content fot it hehe shoutout to @child-of-plut0 for watching my stream as i wrote this

TAGS = @midnxght-sweet-time, @barbatosfavouritenun, @ember-is-clueless, @huboi, @nejibot, @yumixxn, @edenialucas, @voidkinnie

Senses deprived. Blinded by black silk over your eyes. Body exposed. Cold all over, yet so hot, hot, hot down there. It’s inflaming, engulfing. You should be ashamed but you’re not. In fact, you’re ecstatic. Other than the buzzing of the vibrator stuffed inside you, the only sound that fills the silent space is the familiar, silvery voice of one of your catboys.

“Today’s a special occasion, so I wanted to try something fun,” you hear a chuckle, followed by a click. “Hehe, yes, these all look interesting, don’t they?”

You tune out most of the conversation, every word he speaks to the audience a bleary fog to the oversaturating exhilaration that floods your body and brain. Left gasping for air, your moans serve as music for the viewers; hundreds of them all watching you writhe, tied to the bed as you await for Scaramouche’s touch.

“Let’s see…the double-ended dildo? Hehehe, an excellent choice.”

There’s shuffling, and you heave when the pleasure comes to a halt. More shuffling, followed by the warmth of hands, and the constricting binds around your wrists are finally lifted. Another warm touch — this time, his lips — presses against your temple as Scaramouche sits you up, the bells on your collar and nipples jingling with the movement

“Can you still go on? Or do you need a rest?” he whispers in your ear. Despite the abrasive tone, there’s a hint of concern under it — one you have come to associate with the headstrong catboy you know and love. 

You nod. “Yes, I’m—”

He tugs on the leash attached to your collar, cutting you off. His breath tickles your ear, the low, domineering timbre making you quiver. “Need I remind you of my order? How are you supposed to refer to me?”

“Y-yes, Master,” you gulp.

A role reversal. That was what you consented to. To be filmed for one of his camshows, and to be his pet.

His catboy.

Even if you are blindfolded, you can practically see the evident smirk on his face. “Good boy.”

Your chest palpitates at the pet name. The chat must have said something humorous, for you feel Scara’s chest rumble as he laughs. Carefully, he slips the vibrator out of your hole, while you stifle back a whine at the emptiness. He hushes you, digits tracing your labia as it picks up some of your essence. It appears he’s lathering something with your fluids. You don’t get to ponder over it for long before he makes his next demand.

“Spread your legs. Put one of them up like this.” He helps you into his desired position, on the account that your sense of sight is severely restricted. There’s the shifting of sheets, and then something wet touches the outer lining of your pussy. “Move with me.”

You share twin whimpers as Scara pushes the dildo inside you, at the same time the other side enters him. He lets out a shaky moan as he starts grinding, with you following suit. Your hole clenches around the rubbery dildo, tensing up when you slide against the ribbed edges. It’s intimate, sharing a cock with your mated one. To watch your catboys doing this live is thrilling. To experience it yourself is an entirely different thing.

“That’s it, just like that,” he rasps. “Faster…faster!”

Your thighs burn but fuck do you care when it feels so damn good. Faster, faster, faster. You need to please Scara. You need to please your Master. You need to be a good catboy for him. He seems to have noticed your renewed enthusiasm for he reaches out and strokes you behind your fake cat ears.

“Good boy, good boy,” he purrs. “My good little catboy.”

Synchronised in this hypnotic rhythm, your hips move in tandem; chasing, chasing, chasing after this riveting gratification. You’re lost in this blind lust, lost in a void of darkness, but he guides you by taking your hand in his, providing you with stability and keeping you grounded. In truth, he’s doing his duty as your supposed master. He’s firm and controlling, but not in a bad way. Maybe he gets it from your example, which gives you a bit of relief.

“Mm…hm? You want us to change positions?” Scara mumbles lazily, stopping his movements. “Ugh, fine, how’s this?”

Scara lets go of you. He adjusts his body, manoeuvring you with him so that you’re laid on your back, with him above you. From inference, you guess your ass is positioned in front of the camera. Perhaps to give the audience a view of the cat tail plug lodged in your asshole. Hot air brushes against your neck and then— he plunges into the other end of the dildo in a single motion, his pussy slapping against yours in a wet smack. Scara furiously pounds himself against the dildo, slamming against your dewy cunt with every turn until you’re left speechless, nothing but moans spilling out of your weary lips. His teeth clings onto every expanse of skin you offer to him, leaving marks on your neck, collarbone, chest; everywhere. For once, he seems to have forgotten about the camera, the viewers, the livestream. His focus is on you, on your pleasure, for your attention to be on him, him and only him.

“Mmm you’re doing so good kitty…so, so good for me,” he growls, sandpaper tongue swiping up the sweat stuck to your neck. “Such a good boy…”

The bells on your nipple clamps jingle as he sucks on the buds. He doesn’t care that the audience can’t see, you would have to lecture him on it later, he just wants to make you feel good. To see your reactions, to know that you want him.

Every slam, every collision of his pussy against yours makes you throb, walls clinching onto the rubbery dick as if sucking on it to keep your sanity. The brief friction of his clit against yours makes your cunt pulse, and you swear you have forgotten how to breathe when all the blood rushes to your head and the rapid thumping of your heart reverberates through your skull.

“Fuck, fuck— I’m close too, argh, shit shit shit shit!”

“Oh god, Master, Master! I’m so close, I’m close, I wanna cum I wanna cum I wanna cum—” you cry.

Scara mewls as the both of you reach your peak, sharp nails digging into your shoulders as his body twitches, hole contracting and expanding around the cock. His thighs tremble as he nearly collapses on you, barely holding himself up with his arms. You immediately notice, wrapping your arms around his back to support him. He shows his appreciation by licking your face, purring as you pet his soft ears. If you weren’t blindfolded, you would have seen the comments cooing at his tail, swishing back and forth in contentment. He suddenly recalls that he is streaming, and gets off you to look through the comments, slightly wincing at the sensitivity.

“You wish you could see our faces? Too bad, bleeeeh!” Scara sneers, and you know with absolute certainty that he’s sticking out his tongue in mockery.

“Mochi, behave,” you scold him, finding satisfaction in the squeal he makes when you tug on his tail.

“Hey! You can’t do that to your master!”

“Really? Weren’t you the one who said that cat hybrids have a right to discipline their masters when they…what’s the word you used? ‘Are being a little brat’ was it?” you tease.

“Bratty?! I’m bratty?! You—”

[exorcqism]

im obsessed with suguru being protective over reader, especially when reader is a "you only live once" person. what would happen if reader's going to a project x typa party with gojo/shoko and them, begs suguru to go ("there will be weed" "fine ill go"), and reader ends up in a fight? what would sugu do?

I understand if you dont wanna write this lol, its just a scenario im curious about. thank you !!

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

„𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓”

𝐂𝐖;; mature content. afab!reader, stoner!geto, teen!geto, possible fighting, underage drinking, non-curse/sorcerer AU, no uses of y/n. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓;; it’s the weekend and you were invited to a college party by gojo and shoko. you love going out to parties and you’ll take a risk every chance you get. a little bit of fun doesn’t hurt. but geto on the other hand….he doesn’t wanna go along and he doesn’t want you going either.

. ݁ ࣪ ، ⌗ masterlist

⌗ ˖⃗ AO3

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; currently unknown. dividers are by @cafekitsune

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 1.12K

dark mode recommended

do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; IM SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO DO THIS (they probably forgot LMAO) but i’m on it now. i’m recovering from my writers block!! i won’t make this too long. it might be a bit short (sorry 😞) hope ya enjoyyyy. reblog to support meeee and if you want more :D.

another note: rushing to write this before my psych class 😵‍💫

“no, no, absolutely not,” geto calls your name. “the last time you went to a party, you came back here drunk as hell. and guess what? i had to take care of you…not that that’s the issue. the issue is, there’s a bunch of people there that don’t care about your safety.”

you just groan loudly. geto was always like this. always analyzing the little things and the possible consequences and final outcome of the decision.

“geto, please?” you tried to plead with him. “it’ll be the last time i ask this month. i won’t ask for anything else.”

geto’s small pupils looked at you and hummed, “and who’s going? who’s gonna be there that compels you to ask me to go?”

“oh, gojo and shoko were going and i kinda already said yes…”

you notice your boyfriend’s face contort from a slightly worried expression to an shocked and irritated one. his eyebrows knitted together before he’d loudly sigh.

“you already said- i can’t believe im about to ask this…is there weed?” he queries. your excitement shot through the roof. your begging clearly got through to the ink haired male.

it was a party. a college party at that. what was an event like that without drinking and a bunch of people smoking. and probably a little fighting.

after you get confirmation from geto that you could go to the party and that he’d be attending alongside you, you quickly make your way to your room and put on something nice to wear, while geto stays in something as simple as a t-shirt and some jeans.

the wind blows gently as you two stand outside of the gate where the party was being held beyond it. you could see the flashing lights, loud music, and most importantly, the large crowds of students.

“we’re students,” you hear geto say to the security guard standing beside the gate. you both would show your ids before being let in with no trouble.

your eyes were wide with excitement as you got closer and closer to the party you’ve been dying to get to. you could feel the anticipation rising up in your chest, making you shiver a bit. geto, on the other hand, didn’t seem too thrilled. he just wanted to make sure you were safe. though, he could admit that having time outside of the house was good for him.

from a distance, you see two people heading in your direction. a male with snow white hair was trotting over to you, while a girl with short brown hair followed, simply walking.

gojo throws his arm around geto, “suguru!” he beamed at the male, “i didn’t expect you to be joining us. did she convince you?”

your boyfriend glances at you before reluctantly replying, “yes, she did. she also begged me to come…and i almost said no.”

“well i think-” shoko calls your name, “did a good job of getting you out of that apartment of yours. you don’t need to always be cramped up in that place like a hermit crab anyway.” you see gojo nodding quickly in agreement.

geto just rolls his eyes, “i’m still sober so i have time to turn around and leave if i want to.” he says. gojo waves his hand.

“oh, you don’t mean that.” he smiles, moving his circular framed glasses down to the bridge of his nose, revealing his sharp blue eyes. “let’s dance until we can’t anymore.”

with that, you see gojo dragging geto off towards the crowd of students. you and shoko exchange looks before giggling to each other and following the boys.

the party is so live you could barely stand it. each time someone tried to speak to you, you were screaming “what?” a few times because of how loud the music was.

you stuck beside each of your friends while you all enjoyed yourselves. sitting comfortably together while passing a blunt around and gojo taking shots of hennessy and laughing drunkenly as everyone else was dancing to the music.

“he’s always the first to clock out mentally,” shoko commented before taking a sip of her drink also. gojo whips his head around to her direction, his hair flying up a bit.

“i didn’t clock out.” gojo slurred, wiping the remaining liquid from his lips. “i don’t even have a job to do that.”

“he’s brain dead.” geto took a drag of his blunt.

“stop saying that. it’s mean,” gojo whined.

after a moment, taking sips and drags from the items in your hand, you whisper to geto, informing him that you were gonna go to the bathroom.

“do i need to go with you? you know, just in case?”

you almost said no because you knew how overprotective geto could be over you. he just never wanted to see you get hurt and he was definitely scared of something bad happening to you.

you finally say yes and make your way to the bathroom. when you enter, you immediately pinch your nose at the potent smell.

“it smells like shit in here.” you complain, finding a stall to go into, hoping they aren’t clogged with waste or a bunch of tissues.

you take care of your business and clean your hands. on the way out, a girl, obviously drunk bumped into you, mumbling a “watch out” as she stumbled into the stall. you were about to say something but you saw geto shaking his head.

“not worth it,” he said, grabbing your hand and leading you back to your friends. your furrowed eyebrows unknit themselves and a sigh escapes you.

when you get back to your friends, you could see gojo trying to grab another drink and shoko holding him tightly by the waist so he didn’t grab another cup.

“sit your ass down, damn it. you don’t need anything else.” the girl fussed. “don’t you think you’ve had enough for tonight?”

“six cups isn’t enough.” gojo screamed.

“you’re acting like an alcoholic. sit down.”

“you aren’t allowed to go to another party after this.” you laughed as you sat down in your chair. gojo paused and looked over in your direction.

“why notttt?” the male frowned.

“she’s right. you’re acting stupider than usual,” geto chimed in. “we should go home soon…we don’t need to stay here too long.”

“boringgggg,” gojo said loudly. “i don’t wanna go home.”

“you’re a pain in my ass. i should’ve stayed home.” suguru crossed her arms and slouched down into the chair before reaching to spark another blunt.

“you always say that,” gojo giggled. “hey, we should get food when we leave. the food here sucks and i hate the off brand soda. it’s so gross.”

“damn, do you ever stop complaining?” shoko hissed.

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

final note: I FORGOT THE FIGHTING ASPECT HELP

© EXORSIIAN | © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[fanfictionstuff]

Gingerbread Houses

Amaimon x Reader

I promise I'm working on the Rin and Mephisto fics.

SFW but NSFW is implied a couple times.

This is going to be 1/? I wanted to write something cute with Amaimon and Reader for Christmas. So, I have a couple ideas, and if you want to suggest something, feel free.

I don't know if you've seen Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964), but it is mentioned. If you haven't seen it, a quick Google search of the name and add the year you can see the animation style.

I can't wait for Sunday! He was so cute last week; I just wanted to hug him. This is the wallpaper for my computer and phone lmao

Sitting in class, you can hardly contain your excitement as you eagerly await your boyfriend's arrival. Just last night, the realization hit you like a bolt of lightning: Christmas is just a week away! After a quick moment of panic about finding the perfect gift for Amaimon, you remembered one crucial thing—he’s never truly experienced a modern Christmas here in Assiah.

The door swings open, and in strides the demon king himself. Your excitement bubbles over as you leap to your feet, rushing towards him with outstretched arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, your heart racing with joy. "Do you know what next week is?” you exclaim, a wide grin spreading across your face, unable to contain your thrill any longer.

“Winter break?”

“No, well, yes, next week is Christmas!”

Amaimon nods as he places his hands on your hips. Christmas decorations have been popping up all over town for the past few weeks, making them hard to overlook. Mephisto also mentioned that Amaimon needed to find a gift for you earlier this morning.

“So, do you have plans?” You question him.

“My plans always revolve around you," he replies flatly. Ever since Mephisto granted Amaimon a taste of freedom, you’ve somehow woven a spell that ensnares the demon king. But oddly enough, he doesn't seem bothered by it at all.

You nod enthusiastically, a smile spreading across your face. “I was thinking we could make gingerbread men and houses tonight?” As the words spill out, you reach into your pocket with your right hand, your left arm comfortably wrapping around Amaimon. “Look,” you eagerly turn your phone toward Amaimon, showcasing a vibrant Google image search filled with enchanting gingerbread houses is displayed. “I found a recipe that’s perfect for making gingerbread houses!"

Amaimon stares silently at the screen, absorbing the assortment of miniature, edible homes before him. A slight crease forms on his forehead, revealing that he's lost in thought, perhaps even a bit perplexed. He reaches into his pocket with his free hand, pulls out a piece of candy, and pops it into his mouth. His sharp gaze shifts from the phone back to you before he ultimately decides to speak. 

"Why? It seems pointless," he asks, tilting his head curiously to the side. His tone is not mocking or dismissive; instead, it conveys genuine curiosity. 

You respond with an amused glance before quickly explaining, "It's a tradition for some people during Christmas to create and decorate gingerbread houses. They're fun to build, and you get to eat them afterward." You gesture toward the images on your phone again, smiling at the thought of making one with Amaimon. 

He hums in response, seeming content with your explanation yet still looking a bit baffled. "I saw that in a shop; we could just buy one," he drawls lazily, searching for loopholes in this tradition you've drawn him into. 

"Yes, but making it ourselves is part of the fun," you counter, firmly tightening your hold on him. Now that the idea of making gingerbread houses together is on the table, you can't imagine spending the weekend any other way. Seeing your unwavering resolve, he simply shrugs and presses his lips to yours. “Okay.”

As soon as school lets out, you nearly drag Amaimon off the school grounds, your excitement bubbling over, making it difficult to contain yourself. Realizing that you don’t have most of the ingredients you need, you lead Amaimon to a grocery store not far from your apartment. His curiosity, combined with a hint of skepticism, causes you to chuckle every now and then.

Although Amaimon may not fully understand your excitement, he can’t help but enjoy observing your enthusiasm. He often wonders how humans find joy in such ordinary activities.

As you begin shopping for the ingredients, Amaimon wanders around the store, casually holding the basket. He occasionally adds snacks that catch his eye, mostly sweets and junk food. It seems he is more interested in the edible aspect of the project than in the building process itself. 

After gathering all the necessary ingredients—flour, baking powder, ginger, cinnamon, molasses, brown sugar, butter, and eggs—you lead Amaimon to the checkout counter. As you wait in line, he curiously examines the vibrant Christmas decorations near the register and, without much thought, adds a box of candy canes to the basket. 

"Are we going to use these also?" He asks, sounding perhaps just a smidgen interested. 

"Well," you say, glancing at the candy canes before redirecting your gaze back to Amaimon with a slight smile. "They’re often used to decorate gingerbread houses. We could insert them like little poles or something similar." 

Amaimon raises an eyebrow, contemplating this new information briefly before dismissing it with a casual shrug. He doesn't understand why people invest so much effort into such a fleeting celebration, but if it makes you happy, he supposes he could tolerate this strange human tradition. 

As you finish paying for the groceries and step outside, Amaimon casually slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. His fingers idly play with your hair as he considers what you’ve persuaded him to join in on. He pops a lollipop into his mouth, then grabs the bag of groceries. You raise an eyebrow at him, but seeing him enjoy the candy makes you smile. “Amaimon?” 

“Yes?” 

“I love you.” 

Amaimon hums softly in response, his lips curling into a subtle smirk as his burgundy nails playfully tug at your hair. 

"Me too," he mumbles, the words muffled by the stick of candy he's lazily rolling in his mouth. There's an unmistakable ease in his voice as he speaks. No blushing, no stuttering, no overly dramatic declarations—just a simple, nonchalant confession that feels entirely natural coming from him, as though he were merely sharing an everyday fact rather than unveiling an emotion that poets have written sonnets about.

As soon as you stepped into the apartment, Amaimon set the bag of groceries down on the kitchen counter with a satisfied thud. You stepped into the kitchen, excitement bubbling up as you skillfully gathered the bowls needed for the task ahead. “This recipe says the dough needs to chill,” you explain with a grin. “Since tomorrow is Saturday, we can make the dough tonight, and then tomorrow, we can bake and assemble the houses. You’re spending the night, right?”

With these words, you cast a sideways glance at Amaimon, eyebrow raised in anticipation of his response. Amaimon made a show of considering your question before answering. “Yeah, but I wasn’t planning on us getting much sleep.” He gives you a knowing look. 

With a playful smack on his arm, you chuckle at his less than innocent implications. "You should learn to control yourself, demon king," you tease. 

"It’s difficult when my queen is present," Amaimon replies with evident amusement, popping another candy into his mouth. He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist as he attentively reviews the recipe on your phone. As he glances through its contents, a contemplative expression crosses his face, as if he’s genuinely contemplating the instructions. 

You gently pull away from his hold to gather the ingredients. You direct Amaimon throughout the process though he rather quickly gets the gist of it. 

“Here, you mix the dry ingredients while I prepare the wet ones.” You slide the dry ingredients to the end of the bar, gently guiding your touchy demon king towards the ingredients. 

With his eyes still fixed on the recipe, Amaimon casually reaches for the bowl of dry ingredients and starts to stir. In line with your earlier instruction, he maintains a careful watch over his work, breaking from his usual carefree approach to most activities. Watching this unfold causes your heart to swell—you're certain this is a moment you'll cherish for years to come. 

You carefully measure out your wet ingredients, ensuring you have just enough for a large batch of cookies. However, as you go to set the jar of molasses down on the counter, your grip falters, and it slips from your hands, shattering on impact. Molasses and shards of glass scatter across the kitchen floor. You glance at your hands, then at the broken glass, and finally at Amaimon. You want to avoid cutting yourself on the sharp fragments, but the sticky mess makes it difficult to see clearly. 

Without missing a beat or uttering a word, Amaimon kneels down on one knee, carefully picking up the shards of glass. He’s fast, unfazed by the potential danger of the shards cutting into his skin. 

“Did it break into a lot of tiny pieces?” It’s nearly impossible for you to tell from your position. 

Amaimon shakes his head as he stands with a handful of broken glass, “No, it’s fine now.”

You nod and quickly dampen a cloth before bending down to try to clean up the molasses. It’s not easy; it’s thick and sticky. Clean-up takes a lot longer than you would’ve liked. “Well, this will make for a fun story to share with our future kids about our first Christmas together, spending half an hour cleaning up molasses," you joke.

“Tell our future kids how clumsy you are?” Amaimon questions, a memory of you dropping another item a few days ago crosses his mind. You claim you’re not clumsy but just a month with you has hinted otherwise. 

“It has only happened twice before; the second time was because you were making me laugh.” You had been holding something fragile when Amaimon discovered that you were ticklish and found your reaction interesting. 

Amaimon raises an eyebrow and pointedly glances at your knees, aware of the bruise on your left knee, but you didn’t see the ice when you were walking up the steps. “Whatever, just mix everything now. Let’s get it done and wrapped up. We can roll it out tomorrow morning.” With the demon king and his annoying sleep schedule, sleeping in on weekends is no longer an option for you. He wakes you up in the mornings when he starts to get bored. You’ve established a rule that he has to wait until sunrise. 

Once the cookie dough is put away, you try to think about what to do next. “Next year, I’ll have to get a Christmas tree.” You sigh, feeling a bit disappointed in yourself for not considering getting one this year. “Let’s watch Christmas movies.” 

Amaimon winces at the high-pitched sound coming from the TV. You’re watching the 1964 classic, "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," and, for some reason, when Rudolph's nose lights up, a jarring noise disrupts the scene. He turns to you with an unimpressed expression, clearly not a fan. The movie not only seems strange to him, but the animation is awful. “You like this?” 

Do you like it? Who knows—it’s a classic, and not watching it just seems strange. However, considering how Amaimon is looking at you, you feel he won’t agree with the other older movies. “It’s nostalgic..." 

The demon king shows no interest, but fortunately for him, he knows how to draw your focus to him and him alone. That’s how you find yourself pressed against the sofa, his warm lips on yours.

As always, his kisses are full of a boldness that sends warmth curling down to your toes. And, as always, you reciprocate with just as much fervor.

Amaimon pulls away first, just enough for you to catch your breath. His golden eyes shine intensely in the dim light of the room, still holding that same playful spark. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear—words woven with tender adoration and veiled promises. The sensation of his voice dancing across your skin sends shivers down your spine, leaving you yearning for more.

"Let's call it a night," Amaimon purrs, yet there’s an invitation in those simple words that implies sleep isn’t his intention at all.

“______, wake up.” You groan as Amaimon softly nibbles on your ear, coaxing you to rise. His arms encircle your waist, and his tail lightly caresses your thigh. “What time is it?” 

“Does it really matter?” he whispers, planting gentle kisses over the bite marks he left the night before. “We’re supposed to bake the cookies today.” 

“Amaimon, what time is it.”

“Just after six.”

You groan in annoyance at being awoken so early. "Couldn’t you wait at least another hour before waking me up?” Feeling Amaimon shake his head in disagreement, he replies, "I’ve been watching you sleep for hours now." You can’t help but comment, "You know that’s a bit creepy, right?”

He shrugs. “I took some pictures, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I had to remove the blankets, but that’s okay, right?”

You jump up at that, holding the blanket to your chest, and glare down at him. “I’m naked.”

“I know.”

“Amaimon, did you really take photos.”

“No, but you’re awake now.”

Amaimon reaches out to tug the blanket away from you. You let out a startled yelp, yanking it back protectively. “You can be such an asshole sometimes.” However, your indignant tone only seems to amuse him further.

Your scowl deepens as you glare at the demon king lounging lazily across the bed, a mischievous grin stretching across his face. The urge to punch him is overwhelming, but you know better than to provoke Amaimon. Engaging him would be a battle you’re destined to lose before it even begins.

With a defeated sigh, you slump back on the bed, pulling the blankets snugly up to your chin. "Fine," you mumble, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You grumble under your breath as you roll out of bed and reach for a nearby robe. It's far too early for this level of mischief from Amaimon, but fortunately for him, you’re also easily tempted by sweet treats. “You’re lucky I love you.” From the corner of your eye, you can see Amaimon nodding in agreement,

“Let’s get started then; grab the baking sheets, and I’ll get the cookie cutters and dough.” Once everything is set up, you stare at the dough; you know how to make gingerbread men and women. That’s what the cookie cutters are for. But what about the houses? Do you simply cook a sheet pan of cookie dough and then cut it out? Or should you cut out the houses first and then bake them? After contemplating for a moment, you decide to do both. 

The process is quick and seamless, and you can't help but feel impressed by how swiftly everything gets done. However, as you place the cookies on the rack to cool, something catches your attention. “What are you doing?!" You notice that Amaimon, who was supposed to be placing the cookies meant for the house on the rack, has instead managed to make half of them disappear. "Eating cookies," he replies casually.

“How are we supposed to make gingerbread houses when you are eating the cookies that build the houses?”

“Oh.” 

You narrow your eyes and walk toward the cabinets holding the ingredients to make more cookie dough. “While these cool, you can prepare another batch of dough.” As soon as all the necessary ingredients are laid out in front of him, you hand him the phone with the recipe.

As he concentrates on his task, you seize his phone from the counter and unlock it, checking to ensure that the idiot didn’t take a photo of you. Your eyebrows lift in surprise as you discover his gallery filled with pictures of you luckily, you’re fully clothed in all of them. “Did you seriously have to use this photo of me as your wallpaper?” 

“I like it.” 

It’s a photo of you, eyes wide and looking embarrassed. He had whispered something to you just before taking the picture. 

“It’s the face you make before we-“ 

“Focus on the cookie dough!” You snap, cutting him off. “Wait, are you seriously eating the cookie dough now? Amaimon, why don’t you eat some candy?” 

Instead of answering, Amaimon retrieves the wrap to cover the cookie dough and places it in the fridge. “Amaimon, why aren’t you eating the candy we bought?” You question, stepping closer to the demon king.

“It’s gone.” 

“…all of it?” 

“Yes.” 

“Some of that was for the gingerbread men and houses!” 

“Sorry.” 

[andypantsx3]

do you have any tips or advice for being more confident about your writing / avoiding the comparison trap on here? /gen

Hello my love!! Oh my gosh, I have a zillion and one thoughts on this subject. Please excuse how disorganized this is but I am so happy to word vom at you lmao.

I think to start with, it depends on what you're comparing: whether it's the work itself or the metrics surrounding it! I will start with the work itself, and move on to talking about metrics if that's cool.

Your Story

In terms of the quality of your work, there are a couple key things to remember!! Firstly, think it's easy to feel like so many tropes and story lines have already been done, why would anyone want to read mine? But you can circumvent this quite intentionally in your writing by thinking about what new thing you can bring to that trope or story line. And make no mistake, there is always something new, whether it's a plot twist, a unique motivator, a different character's perspective, etc.

For example, I've read and loved several merman Shouto fics, and I also wanted to write a merman Shouto fic. In the development of something in the water, I sat down and thought about what things I'd read about merman Shouto before, and how could I add to that, outside of rehashing what I'd already read. I discovered I wanted to expand on mating rituals, spend some time on the cultural differences a human and merman would inevitably have, and linger in the feeling of a tropical island because at the time of the fic's conception it was like, the dead of my winter LOL. And I do think that something in the water has turned out pretty distinct for that effort; as far as I am aware no one has written merman Shouto being wheeled into a tropical bungalow in a wheelbarrow to watch The Little Mermaid lol.

So you can always bring something new to the table! And it will make your work feel standout to you, as well, as you will be very aware of all the things you did that were unique!! You will not feel like you're just rehashing something that has already been done, you will feel like you're adding!

Also in terms of quality, I think it's helpful to look at fic writing like a growth opportunity rather than a permanent, established skill set. The "quality" of your style is not fixed, it something you actively develop by reading, digging into other people's styles, seeing how they make their writing work, and trying out some of those elements for yourself. Maybe someone has a really rich descriptive style that you find beautiful, maybe someone writes dark psychological fics that thrill you; if you spend time looking at the words they are using and how they use them, you can replicate those techniques in your own writing. You can quite literally make your own writing look more like the writing you admire by reverse engineering authors' techniques.

Conversely, writing as a growth opportunity mean you do not have to be perfect. The process of writing is the process of figuring out what works, mechanically. It's not a reflection on you at all. You don't have to write anything "good," you can publish something you had fun with, see what people react positively to in it, and turn around and take those elements forward in your next story, while abandoning the things people maybe did not love or had questions on. And rinse and repeat over and over until you do end up with something you'd term "quality."

To me at least, that thought is a huge relief. Because I can just have fun, let people say what they say, and do something different in my next story if needs must. It's like any skill set, I think. It takes time to hone but no one would call, like, Van Gogh untalented because he once started with rough and heavy pencil sketches, right?

It's the knowledge that I'm building up my future self's skill set that gives me confidence to publish, even if I'm not quite where I want to be currently! And I really hope this helps you the way it does me; the knowledge that you can do anything, write like anyone, but that it's all part of an overarching process to learn to enjoy writing like you!

Which brings me to:

The Metrics

I am just going to say flat out that you should try to ignore metrics as best you can. In my experience, metrics are absolutely no indicator of a work's quality. Some of the work I am proudest of is what anyone would consider a "flop" by note count, whereas I think some of my most trite & banal works would be considered by some metric quite "popular." And I think that way about some of my favorite fics too, one of my absolute fave fics of all time only recently broke 100 kudos on ao3 after being up for years!!

I especially think this is true on tumblr, where a work's packaging and digestibility seem to be the key elements in gaining notes (ao3 does not allow the same level of customization). Fics with elaborate headers, cute & small fonts (I am guilty of loving these), and eye-catching graphics all naturally draw attention more easily in the sea of other fics, so it makes sense why more people would tend to look at those, and subsequently like or reblog them. I also think bullet-pointed headcanons or single/short paragraph works tend to skyrocket in notes here because they're quick and easy; and that makes sense too, right? If it's easier to read of course it's likelier to be read more!

But those things mean absolutely nothing about the quality of the work within. And you can take reassurance from the fact that you too can replicate those elements if note count is what you are truly after here! You can make a video header with any of the premades on Canva! You can try different font arrangements or cool graphics. You can even write a paragraph and tag it with a bunch of different characters for maximum exposure. There is no reason to get jealous, I think, if you can do it too!!

I also think you have to be conscious of different factors at play with authors. Some authors have been around since the inception of the fandom you're in, and naturally will have had more visibility for longer than you, but that also says nothing about the quality of their work. I've been around in the BNHA fandom for four years, and by a mixture of luck and timing ended up getting to publish a lot of my work during the pandemic when more people than ever were getting into BNHA. But does that make me better than some of the newer authors joining the fandom just now? HELL no lol, if anything maybe I could be getting complacent!

And this goes for the size of fandoms and the popularity of certain characters as well!! A Shouto fic is not going to do as well as a Bakugou fic because Bakugou has like, three times the stans. A Shinsou fic is not going to do as well as a Shouto fic because Shouto has like, five times the stans lol. And a Kaiju no. 8 fic is not going to do as well as a JJK fic because the fandom size (and therefore potential audience pool) has a significant discrepancy! Don't gauge your fic's success against someone else's in a different fandom or for a different character (or honestly even at a different point in the source material's storyline because sometimes a character has a moment where they are most popular but that drops off - think BNHA Hawks in 2020/2021 vs now lol).

There is a huge variety of external factors at play that determine your exposure and audience, but absolutely none of those can ever say anything about the quality of your work. So I hope you can try to distance yourself from the need to compare your metrics to anyone else's, because quite frankly they do not mean shit.

TLDR, think the best way to overcome the comparison trap is to write a story you love and feel is unique, something you are proud of. Because no one is ever going to tell a story quite how you would, and therefore no one can ever be compared. & I hope this was helpful and addressed whatever specific area of concern you have!! But let me know if not and I'm happy to discuss more!!

[justcallmenikki7]

BTS Reaction To: The Purge Night

Mafia!Au-Purge!Au-Split!Au

Summary: experiencing the purge with your mafia boyfriend can go many different ways.

Warnings: killing/murder (obviously, it’s the purge lmao), language, stealing/robbery, slight angst, fluff (haha), suggestive comments, badass y/n, torturing, crack, nonconsensual touching from stranger, split!jungkook, character slapping reader, angst, taehyung being taehyung.

W.C.: 3.9k

Notes: hiiiii! I’m back. My life has been so chaotic and busy ever since I got my second job back in March, and so I haven’t had much time to myself to even do anything. Thankfully, I learned on how to take time for myself now and balancing everything out. Anyways! I apologize if I’m rusty with my writing, it’s been a while. And idk how to feel about taehyungs part.

Kim Seokjin:

Ever since Korea has followed along with the United States by having the annual Purge two years ago, you decided with your boyfriend to go and experience it. Now, of course, you are prepared. Having a boyfriend who is the leader of the Korean Mafia, it’s no secret that he is prepared in many ways when it comes to…illegal things.

At first, he was against the idea of you going out on purge night, but once he realized that this was an internal thrill and want for you, he decided to go along with it. Whenever you heard of the purge happening in America, there was this thrill and excitement for one night a year for legal crime, you were wanting it to happen in Korea, and once you heard the news of Korea writing a bill and finalizing it, you wanted to purge. Now, it is a sick want, but some people need to release their anger and do shit that they would not do on a normal day when there are laws in place, but having that ability to do it with no repercussions, what could go wrong?

You were finally able to release the anger and hurt that a few people caused you and you wanted pay back. Could you just have Jin kidnapped and you could enjoy your sick pleasure by torturing them? Of course, but it is different when you can do everything start to finish.

“Babe, I think they’re dead…” you heard your boyfriend say in a monotone over the noise of your knife stabbing into the lady who embarrassed you when you were in sixth grade in front of the student body. She caused you anxiety and humiliation at a young age.

“Are you sure? Her body moved just a second ago.” You questioned cutely, already knowing she’s leaving the mortal realm. You’re just enjoying the thought of her never living again.

“Yes… she died five minutes ago, shortly after her husband.” Jin stated with a smirk on his face from watching you huff and fix your ponytail after giving the woman one last jab at her chest. Pushing off the wall, he walked over to you and cradled your face in his hands, loving how your cheeks crinkle your eyes because of how you have big cheeks that fit your face so well. “You do realize you spent about close to two hours of torturing and killing her that you have ten hours left? We must drive an hour to the next ‘victim’ of yours. And that depends if the roads are blocked off from Purgers.”

“With your driving, well make it there in twenty-five minutes. Plus, the boys already made sure that they’re not blocked.” You commented, grinning at Jin’s face turning red from realizing that you’re right.

“Okay, let’s get going, smart ass.” He ordered, slapping your ass before he grabs your hand and helping you step over the murder scene that just took place in the house.

Min Yoongi:

When the first purge happened in Korea, you and your boyfriend Min Yoongi obviously joined in on the fun. Now, on the second year, that is happening once again.

You were currently getting dressed into your purge outfit. You are wearing jean shorts with fishnets, combat boots, a crop top, a black leather jacket, your hair straightened, and face paint that is skeleton designed. Yes, you know that there is no reason to get dressed up for this night, but there’s no point in going out in sweats and a hoodie while you rob Walmart, the mall, and Hobby Lobby. You want to play the part.

You convinced your boyfriend to dress up with you this year since he did not last year, and it took lots of bribing and promising things, but you got what you wanted in the end like you always do.

“Babe, you ready? In about ten minutes the sirens will go off and along with announcement.” Your boyfriend told you as he walked into the bedroom, mouth dropping at your outfit, and just you in general. He’s now thinking about you guys staying in because he can feel himself getting excited at what he wanted to do with you – to you. “Maybe we should stay in tonight babe.”

Turning around, you glared at him. “Do you not realize that Hobby Lobby has cute house décor that we need for this place?”

“But I can just buy them for you baby,” your boyfriend pouted, along with making a fair point.

“But we can save that money with just stealing, legally! Plus, what’s the fun in that? We can take whatever we want without having to spend a single dime. And there’s build a bear at the mall, and I want all the stuff animals. We are not staying home just so you can rip my outfit apart. We can do that after the purge.” You countered back, determined to get free things, and possibly fighting someone who gets in your way.

It's been a stressful week with idiots at your job, and you’re looking for a reason to punch somebody.

Grumbling, your boyfriend threw his hands up in defeat, not wanting to challenge you while your mind is set. He’s learned when you threw a water bottle at him in the nono region when he tried to persuade you from not spending $50 on a large stuffed llama at Walmart because you already had plenty of stuffed animal llamas at home.

“Yes ma’am, can we at least break into the Oliva Garden on seventh street and take their breadsticks on the way home? I’ve been craving them lately.” He asked, putting his necklace on that you got him on your guy’s sixth month anniversary and his rings.

“I was about to ask the same thing,” you said, spraying your favorite perfume on. Right as you sat it down on your vanity, the sirens went off. Grabbing your gun that was specially made for you, you put in the gun holster that went with the outfit and your bag that had an emergency kit for just in case, along with one extra gun, you walked up and kissed your boyfriend.

“Ready baby?” he asked, taking your hand in his.

“Let’s roll! Hobby Lobby, here we come!”

Jung Hoseok:

It was a good idea at first, but now you’re questioning your train of thought from earlier, along with listening to your boyfriend. But sometimes men don’t know what they’re talking about. But then also is a long-time thief and is a mafia boss, so he does know what he’s talking about half of the time.

You just hate being wrong.

You thought that breaking into a bank that looked untouched from any other Purger’s was skeptical, but you decided to go ahead and do it anyways. But now, you realized that you should’ve listened to your conscious and boyfriend.

“This is your fault.” Your boyfriend commented, handcuffed to the wall.

“How is it my fault? You should’ve said something,” you snapped back, knowing that he did, but you won’t admit that he’s right.

“Stop being stubborn and just say, ‘babe, you were right, I’m a dumbass.’” He sassed, giving you a look that you hate. If only your hands weren’t handcuffed you would have smacked him, because it is the look of ‘you’re a dumbass,’ and know you were a dumbass, but you had a good idea that seemed like one to you, but it wasn’t.

You live and you learn.

“If you don’t wipe that look off of your face, I’ll do it for you after the boys get here and rescue us.”

“What are you going to do? Hit me?” He spoke in a childish tone, but you ignored and acted like you didn’t hear him.

Yes, you two are acting like children while being held at gun point, not caring that you are getting judgmental looks from your captors. What is even funnier, they don’t realize that they have the king and queen of the Korean mafia handcuffed to a pole. So, they are in a big surprise when the gang gets here.

“Will you two shut the fuck up? You sound like my kids right now.” A guy snapped, massaging his temples as if he has a headache.

“No, he called me a dumbass,” you argued back, “and I am not a dumbass.”

“You kind of are, babe.” Hoseok commented in a nonchalant tone. And after he said that gun fire began, a sign that his gang was here.

It was a quick process to say the least since the men who cuffed you both and had guns pointing at you for fifteen minutes were amateurs. After both of you getting uncuffed and you getting lectured by Jungkook and Taehyung on how you don’t know how to rob a place, you hit Hoseok in the arm.

“That’s for calling me dumbass,” you sneered, an angry look on your face.

“Noona, you kind of are…” the maknae’s said at the same time, quickly looking away once they felt your glare.

Kim Namjoon:

You don’t know what it is with your boyfriend, but he is like a child on Christmas morning when it comes to robbing places. He is in his own little world, piling up video games for the Maknae line for their Christmas presents, all of the sprite that he was able to get into the cart for Hoseok, all the colorful lights that Yoongi has talked about getting for his music room that he has at the house as his getaway area whenever he has the chance with his busy schedule of tracking people down, and then Jin kitchen décor for the kitchen at the base. You guys probably need to make a pit stop at HomeGoods for more of the decor because Walmart doesn’t have good selections, but it is the thought that matters.

“Babe! I found a book that I want to read!” Joon yelled out, reading the summary on the back of the book.

“What’s it called?” You asked, walking up to him and leaning your head against his arm, looking down at it.

“It’s called ‘The Cellar’ and it’s by this writer named Natasha Peterson. I’ve never heard of her, but this book sounds awesome.” He commented, placing it gently into the cart, “I’m getting it. I saw that it is a series, so we need to stop by Barnes and Nobel to get the rest of the series.” He mentally added that onto his list.

The peacefulness that was surrounding you both as you guys wondered around Walmart ended as soon as loud laughter sounded throughout the store and a gunshot. Namjoon instantly went into mafia mode, which is what you call it, and grabbed you and threw himself over you as he moved you both behind the shelf of towels and shielded you from any harm. His gun was pulled, and he was already texting the boys, who were also out and about on purge night, that there was a problem. You can’t trust anyone in general, but on Purge night, it’s a different ball game.

You could hear the group being rowdy, knocking everything over that was in their sight, making vulgar comments, and being disgusting in general. It sounded like they were getting closer, and that was making you nervous because of the fucking cart that was in the middle of the aisle.

“Joon, the cart.” You whispered, nervous as hell.

Namjoon muttered ‘fuck’ under his voice and was about to get up and grab the cart, when all the sudden WAP by Cardi B began blaring throughout the store.

Fucking Taehyung.

This obviously grabbed the groups attention because you heard them become alarmed, and slightly confused, on why WAP was blaring over the speakers. You heard someone yell, and then the sound of running on the other side of the aisle. You exhaled, relaxing when you heard the music turn off and Taehyung’s voice.

“I’m such a smart individual you guys.”

Park Jimin:

You and your boyfriend Jimin decided to stay in for the night. You both are not ones to partake in the new holiday because Jimin already deals with it daily. Whereas with you, you are not a fan of murder, despite being married to a mafia boss.

The house was on lock down, security cameras live on the second T.V. in the living room, the other T.V. playing your favorite show, the both of you cuddled up on the couch, and your favorite alcohol beverages next to both of you. It was peaceful, something that you both love when it comes to being with one another. It can be quiet, and no words spoken while you two are together and it isn’t boring or awkward, just peaceful.

That was until the camera for the backyard went black and Jimin got up quickly, and the look of anger and calculation was on his face. The peacefulness gone and the thought of murder was settling in the air.  Becoming nervous, you jumped up and stood right behind your boyfriend, hands holding to both of his arms, and you pushing yourself up against him, trying to become one with him.

“Baby, grab the gun that’s in the cushion that you were sitting on. You remember how to use it, right?” Your husband asked, checking to make sure you remember. It’s been a long time since you’ve had to use a gun because there was never a need too, until tonight.

“Yeah, I remember,” you answered while you grabbed it, hating the cold feeling to it.

“Good, stay next to me at all times, I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” He replied, grabbing his gun from the side table, cocking it, and began to walk towards the kitchen where the bulletproof glass was that gave you both the ability to look outside. Peeking through it, your heart dropped at what you saw.

One of your security men hanging from the tree that was by your back porch. The churning of your stomach, heart pounding in your chest, and the want to wish you were dreaming was taking over your mind. And what was worse, the lights going out in the house. No power, no ability to see, and the fear of losing your husband became too much.

“Oh Jimin, I’m back. Let’s have some fun, shall we? There is only eleven hours left, and that gives us time to catch up. It’s been a long time, my friend.” A voice you never heard before sounded through the house, and it held everything but kindness.

Clutching Jimin’s arms, you felt tears brimming your eyes.

“Text the boys and tell them to hurry and tell them that Jacob isn’t dead. Tell them to come prepared,” he demanded quietly. “And if we don’t make it, just know we will meet again. I love you Y/N.” Jimin promised, bringing you in and holding you tightly.

Never in the ten years of knowing Jimin have you heard him sound scared before. But you did forget that there are still somethings you don’t know about him, and this is one of them.

Kim Taehyung:

There have always been snakes in every group, whether that being in gangs, friendships, relationships, or even in workplaces. There has been suspicion of a couple of snakes in the gang that your boyfriend runs, and you didn’t think that they would have the balls to do it on the night of the purge, of all days. You could do it on a Sunday, but they thought it would be best to do it on the night of a murder holiday.

You were sitting comfortably on the couch in your boyfriend’s office, watching Tik Tok and talking with your boyfriend as he does paperwork. Everything was peaceful until the moment that his six best friends ran into the office, closing the door and having pissed off looks on their faces.

“What the hell is going on?” Taehyung asked, standing up with a calculated look on his face.

“It’s Max and Jaiden. They’re the snitches and they’re gathering a few others to take us out tonight. Our security teams. The ones who are here now in this building.” Namjoon responds.

“Are you fucking serious? And are they stupid?” Taehyung questions, hands turning into fists as he thinks on what to do. It took a few moments for him to figure out on what he wants to do, before he looks up, “let’s go get rid of them all, but let’s save the two fuckers for last. We need to know what they all had done.”

The six men nod their heads before they left the room. Taehyung was the last to leave because he needed to gather a few things, along with kissing you goodbye. “Lock the door on my way out, you know it’s me when I do the three knocks.” He told you, helping you off the couch and led you to the door. As he walked out, you closed it and locked it, before making your way back to the couch to get comfortable.

Fifteen minutes later, the three knocks sounded. You realized it wasn’t a long process, but you brushed it off as you got to the door and opened it. Only to be greeted with Jaiden. Your heart fell to your stomach, and you quickly stood back.

“Hey, Y/N. Didn’t think I know the knock trick, huh?” He smirked, gun drawn and pointing at you.

“You know you have a death wish if you try something,” you pointed out, “you should really think about whatever you’re planning on doing.”

You didn’t even see him raise his hand until you felt it on your cheek. “Shut the fuck up. Do you not realize how fucking irritating it is to be bossed around and not be appreciated? For everything you do for this fucking gang, huh? You sacrifice your life daily for a guy who doesn’t even know how to fight. What kind of fucking leader is that, huh? And then see him take the girl you have loved for years and claim her as his own?” He questioned, stepping towards you.

You’re focusing on two things right now. The pain in your cheek and his reference towards you. He’s been in love with you? And he thinks that Taehyung has taken you from him? This guy is fucking delusional.

“Oh, so this is what it’s about? You could’ve done this tomorrow, or yesterday, or even last month. But, on purge night? That is hilarious.” You heard your boyfriend, relief flooding through your body. A groan of pain and the sound of electricity sounded through the air, and you know it was the taser that Jungkook bought for shits and giggles. Looking up, hand on your cheek from the hit, you said Jaiden on the ground, Taehyung standing above him. “You’re going to wish that you never once laid a hand on MY girl and for going behind my back to Ateez and giving them information.” Taehyung growled out, looking at you with a look that shook you to your bones.

Jeon Jungkook:

Occasionally, your boyfriends alter appears. Sometimes, it scares you because of how violent he can get, along with barely interacting with him. JK, for the first time in over a year, that you know of because that was the last time you had interacted with him for a few minutes, is out tonight.

You don’t know how to approach him, you don’t know how to do anything because of how you barely know him. You know that he is your boyfriend, and you do love him, but he scares you. You know that he wouldn’t do anything to you at all – he even told you that himself last year, but you know that you do not want to see him in action.

The gang had to leave the base because of Purgers who hate the gang, despite them never hurting an innocent citizen and only trying to protect them, raided the base and only a few got out. So now, you guys are now in the city, trying to get to across town on foot to the safety house that’s in the country. Everyone’s running, JK and his six brothers who are prepared for anything, and several other men who are a part of the gang are keeping the extra eye out for any danger.

You’re not an athletic person, running is not in your vocabulary, and so you are getting winded quickly. You thought you would be an athletic person when it comes to possibly dying, having all the adrenaline in you, but there isn’t any and so you’re slowly falling behind. Not being able to speak up because of having no breath in you since it’s long gone from the running you’ve done, you stop for a second and put your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath and stretch for a few seconds.

Of course, you’re that person that stopped and now you’re getting yanked from the back. Screaming, which catches everyone’s attention, you began to kick the person who has a hold of you.

“Y/N!” Your boyfriend screamed, running towards you, only stop when other people came out of their hiding places and having guns drawn and ready to shoot. The look on your boyfriend’s face sent fear down your spine because it’s a look of pure bloodlust, the want to kill and torture the man who has you. “Let her fucking go, now.” He demanded, voice thick and deep.

“And why’s that? You don’t want to share this piece of meat with anyone else? Listen, pal, I can do whatever I want tonight and that is her.” The guy cockily said, the feeling of his hand sneaking down you, causing you to squirm and move his hand away. “Good luck on trying to stop me, but I have more men than you. There’s no way you’re going to—” He stopped in his sentence from your elbow jabbing into his stomach and then your foot making contact his dick. You learn thing or two from dating your boyfriend. “You fucking bitch!”

A warzone happened, and you somehow dodged his fist as it flew at you, but you ran towards your boyfriend, jumping into his arms, only to meet the ground with your back and he threw himself on top of you to protect you from any danger. The guns stop firing, and you heard the guy who grabbed you groaning. Hoseok managed to shoot him in the leg, but everyone else in his group are now dead, along with a wounded Jimin and Seokjin, and a dead member who meant everything to everyone.

“Nice job, baby,” JK praised, standing you both up, only to pull you against him, both your chests pressed together and his hands gripping your waist. This caused a blush to ran come across your cheeks and your chest, the look in his eyes hooded, but you know it is still JK, and this got you even more excited and nervous.

“Well, Jungkook taught me a thing or two… and so, I just acted.” You stuttered, trying to keep eye contact, but it being difficult from how intense JK is staring at you.

“Well, I can teach you a thing or two later. But now baby, I have to do something that I don’t want you to watch, or if you want to, I can teach you a few other things. But I don’t want to scare you away. So, now be a good girl and look the other way, you won’t like what you’ll see.” He ordered, eyes now deadly and not the ones that made an appearance for a few moments that comforted you.

[svltzmans]

paint the town red - h.m.

a/n: this was a request and i had so much fun writing it!! i also got to write some supernatural elements which is the best lmao. writing these hope fics makes me want to rewatch legacies so bad 😭 but anyway i hope you guys like this

warnings: smut (18+), vampire biting, mention of blood, semi-public sex

hope wakes up in the middle of the night absolutely ravenous.

beside her, her girlfriend breathes lightly in her sleep. hope smiles to herself before gently getting up, determined not to disturb her.

making her way to the kitchen, she grabs a blood bag from the fridge. she knows it's nowhere near as good as the real thing, but she settles nonetheless.

her eyes glow bright green when she punctures the bag with her teeth, finding immediate relief in her midnight snack.

"hope?"

y/n had woken up shortly after hope had gotten out of bed, feeling the emptiness beside her. she didn't have to look for long before finding her exactly where she thought she'd be.

"what are you doing up?" hope questions, still in the middle of her bag.

y/n approaches hope from behind, wrapping her arms around her waist and pulling her into a hug.

"i felt you leave. missed you," she says sleepily, resting her head on hope's shoulder.

hope embraces the contact, leaning gently into y/n.

"didn't want to wake you," hope responds, kissing y/n's forehead.

in the midst of their conversation, y/n notices that hope's eyes are still aglow, and that the points of her teeth are still visible just beyond her lips.

y/n's attraction to her girlfriend is apparent based on the way her cheeks become as red as hope's blood bag.

she's sure hope doesn't notice, despite their close proximity.

"can we go back to bed now?" y/n asks, her exhaustion catching up to her.

"c'mere," hope coos, picking y/n up bridal style to bring her back to bed.

ever since hope turned into a fully activated tribrid, these "midnight snack" excursions had become a common thing for her. sometimes she just couldn't go back to sleep until she fed, and she had to give into her compulsions.

y/n didn't always wake up with her, but hope had caught her watching from the doorway on more than one occasion.

at first, hope thought that y/n was just interested in her tribrid status, but it slowly became clear that it was much more than that.

even though she's sure she has it figured out, hope doesn't want to assume anything. she knows she has to figure out a plan to confirm her suspicions.

it doesn't take hope long to figure out what she wants to do.

during one of hope and y/n's weekly movie nights, hope decides to put her plan into action.

"y/n, i'm hungry," hope playfully whines, immediately getting her girlfriend's attention.

"wanna order something? or we could go cook together," y/n offers a solution, still halfway paying attention to the television.

"i have a better idea," hope whispers, leaning in closer to y/n.

"what's that?" y/n acts clueless, even though she knows where this is headed, and she couldn't be more thrilled about it.

hope gently picks up y/n's wrist, lightly kissing it before looking up at her.

"may i?"

y/n swears she's dreaming. she's had many dreams like this, usually ending in hope pushing her down on the kitchen counter.

"please," y/n finally responds, giving hope her most intense heart eyes.

grabbing hold of y/n's other hand, hope exposes her fangs and gives y/n the most gentle bite she possibly can.

y/n gasps at the initial sting, but before she knows it she's letting out soft moans. hope is absolutely dizzying, and it's not from the loss of blood.

when hope pulls away, y/n's heart is pounding in her ears.

"it seems like you enjoyed that just as much as i did, hm?" hope teases, healing the small wound that developed on y/n's wrist.

y/n feels frozen in time, and hope is the only thing she can think about. as hope tries to keep watching the movie the two had started, y/n is entirely distracted.

long after the pair had fallen asleep, hope wakes up again, the same urge to feed pushing her up and to the kitchen.

she walks delicately out of the room to avoid waking y/n, even though she knows it's no use. y/n always knows when she leaves, and hope finds it adorable.

and like clockwork, she appears in the doorway, sleepiness apparent in her eyes. hope's eyes glow brighter at the sight of her girlfriend.

hope stops mid-bloodbag to greet her. "hi beautiful," she beams, her teeth still excessively sharp.

"hi," y/n replies, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"someone's sleepy, huh?"

"come back to bed."

"i'm hungry."

memories of hours ago come back to y/n, and she feels a knot forming in her stomach.

"what, i didn't hold you over?" she teases, hoping to get a reaction out of hope.

something in hope snaps at that, and she picks y/n up, sitting her down on the counter.

"hope, what are you d-"

before y/n can finish, hope's lips are on hers and they're making out in the kitchen of the salvatore school.

"hope, jesus, someone could see us."

"don't care. wanna taste you. not talking about your wrist this time," hope replies between kisses.

"but the bed is so much more comfortable for you to-"

"need you right now," hope slurs, and that's enough for y/n to oblige.

within seconds, hope has y/n naked from the waist down, legs spread on the kitchen counter.

"i can't believe you," y/n giggles, honestly quite nervous about their current position.

"the quieter you are, the less likely we are to get caught," hope replies, her voice sultry as she kisses y/n's inner thighs.

the second hope's mouth makes contact with y/n, it's game over.

the noises she can't help but make are obscene. hope is incredible at going down on y/n, and she's reminded of that tenfold every time.

hope briefly pulls away. "you're so gorgeous. what did i say about being quiet, though?"

y/n mumbles an apology but whines in protest. "please just keep going."

hope doesn't oppose, but she moves her tongue agonizingly slowly.

"hope... more, please," y/n pleads, not caring about keeping her composure any longer.

"i like when you beg," hope mutters against her, finally picking up the pace once again.

y/n is painfully close, and she knows it. she desperately tries to keep her orgasm at bay, wanting to prolong this moment as much as possible.

"god, hope, so good," she encourages, her hand resting in hope's hair.

it's at that moment that hope looks directly up at y/n, her glowing tribrid eyes piercing into hers.

the look hope gives her sends her over the edge, biting her lip to withhold as much noise as possible.

as y/n's breathing slows and her heart rate returns to normal, hope stands up, helping her get down and back onto her feet.

hope gently puts y/n's pajamas back on for her, and pushes her hair behind her ear.

"you okay?" she asks, resting her hand on y/n's cheek.

"much better than okay. but sleepy. can we go back to bed now?"

"anything for you. did such a great job for me."

hope takes y/n's hand as they head back upstairs, settling back into bed.

"oh, and hope?"

"yeah?"

"are you still hungry?"

a/n: its the middle of the night and i'm awake for some reason and was DETERMINED to finish this

[idyllic-affections]

general friendship headcanons (liyue).

summary. what is it like being friends with some of liyue's citizens?

trigger & content warnings. no applicable warnings.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. baizhu & reader, beidou & reader, qiqi & reader, xiao & reader, zhongli & reader. 0.7k words. no pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. second part of the series!!!! i'm doing inazuma later because i don't know inazuma characters as well as i know liyue + mondstadt characters... basically i'm procrastinating LMAO i do write for ningguang and childe but i skipped out on them because (1) im burnt out but also want to post something (2) bc im not completely confident in my ability to write them yet rip

baizhu is the kind of friend who's always on top of your health—mental, physical, or otherwise. he'll always remind you to take breaks if you've been working on something for a long time. he'll remind you to eat if you're the kind of person who forgets to. he'll remind you to take any meds if you have them, and if you run out? don't worry, he'll refill your prescription for you (only after very thoroughly assesing you to make sure the medications you take are right for your body's needs, of course). he's honestly quite doting! very attentive to your needs overall. i also like to think he's keen on listening to you talk about your interests or hobbies. he listens and remembers.

beidou is the fun friend who'll take you on all her fun adventures, and if you can't accompany her for any reason, she's happy to relay her tales to you! she's got storytelling skills comparable to only the most famous, admired bards and poets from all across teyvat, even if she herself isn't really aware of it. she's the kind of friend who can take you on all kinds of fun adventures—whether those adventures be out on the wild sea or on sturdy land, she's your lady if you're looking for a bit of a thrill. she'll definitely keep you very safe, too. she's strong enough to protect both herself and you, so don't worry about running into trouble (which is definitely a bit inevitable if you accompany her around). she'll take care of it!

qiqi is the kind of friend who's like your clingy little sister. see, once she actually manages to remember your face and name, she will virtually never forget it. she has a little page dedicated to you and everything about you in her journal. qiqi never wants to forget you, so she does her best to remember! she'll follow you around like a lost duckling, cling to your sleeve, or lay her head comfortably on your shoulder if you're both willing and able to carry her. she also reminds you to take care of yourself... she has, without a doubt, picked up this habit from baizhu, but it's nonetheless very touching. she'll make little handmade gifts for you, maybe she'll pick flowers and give them to you. everything she does for you is soft and endearing. qiqi is very much like an attached baby sister, indeed.

xiao is the kind of friend who's always there for you... at least, physically, anyway. he doesn't have the words to comfort you very well and he can be a bit standoffish and quiet, but he will be there if you need him. getting close to xiao is no easy task, so if you manage to, he'll definitely hold you very dear to his heart and would never forgive himself if he were to let something happen to you. he'll always be there to fend off any danger that threatens your safety; all you have to do is call out for him. he'll be there. he swears it. he's the one you can sit in calm, safe silence with. there's no pressure to fill the quiet with small talk. xiao is someone who could simply enjoy your presence without needing all the conversation to go with it (but i totally think he'd listen if you talked).

zhongli is the kind of friend who's so willing and delighted to share his knowledge with you. if you want him to talk, he can, and can do so for as long as you're willing to listen, even if that is for hours. he could even talk you to sleep if you so desired (who wouldn't fall asleep listening to the soothing tones of his voice, really?). he's the one you could take with you to museums or libraries or ancient ruins if you're into that kind of thing—if he happens to recognize something while you're out and exploring some ruins, he'll offer to tell you about them! he's so poor at hiding the fact that he was morax, so honestly... yeah, he might never tell you directly, but surely you could figure it out on your own? regardless of if he tells you, if he doesn't... i doubt it would change anything.

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Twas I who sent in the request for the rankings and information of the yanderes as fathers! I loved it so much, and don’t worry you didn’t mess anything up! It was way too good. You seriously put so much effort into everything you write, it’s all too beautiful! You’re going to have to do a Part 2 Continuation of the rankings again once you accumulate a new descent sized group of yanderes (so a new 16?…)

I’m also thrilled to hear that you love writing scenarios and have been waiting for a request like this. I agree, scenarios are such a fun and easy way to add more background to characters for audiences. Really helps you connect and enter the characters’ psyche.

So this is a bit of a follow-up request I suppose, but now I’m kind of wondering how the yanderes would react if their child (let’s say their son specifically) shows yandere traits, or otherwise a very similar personality to their father? I’m also imagining now how it’d be so funny if the yandere sons went to their mother and hogged all her attention for x time period just to spite and mess with their father…Cause they know they’re untouchable as long as they’re with their mommy and are crying to her.

Lastly, I’m not sure if you’ve read this person’s ABCs of their OCs, as you’ve mentioned you’ve read others, but I find this person’s ABCs to be the best ever! @wordsbymae is the person. I think a mixture of SFW and NSFW would be great for you. I know you don’t do blatant lengthy smut, and I want to make sure you’re always comfortable with what you write and don’t feel pressured to do what others want of you. So the NSFW sprinkles of the ABCs would be like what you currently write, implied. Again, write in your comfort zone only! Besides, seeing some cute fluff never hurts anyone.

Yandere! Men and their Yandere children

LMAO OKAY THIS ONE IS TOO CUTE TO NOT IMMEDIATELY WRITE UP!

Also, thank you for suggesting the user for the ABCs! I'll look into it. For now, i'll be closing the requests to answer the questions once more!

Thank you for being patient with me owo

YAN! ARTIST

Arlen will be somehow happy that his child is of the same disposition as him. Alongside the kid, he'll probably teach the kid to paint you. Although, the kid hogging your attention will be something of an irritant to him.

YAN! DRAGON

Yeah, sorry. Vincent will probably be upset and do some kind of corporal punishment on the kid for hogging your love. He is a dragon after all. A yandere at that too. But, if the kid is only a yandere but not to you, he will be a proud father really.

YAN! THEATER ACTOR

YAN! BUTLER

Zero will be intrigued, more or less. The child he reared produced with you is also a yandere? Did the experiments Zero performed on himself in order to conceive a child somehow affected the kid's personality to match his? Well, in the end, Zero would be like a devil's whisper on the ear of the kid. Telling them that they should do everything for their darling. Although, if the kid is a yandere for you, Zero has no qualms about finding a way to remove the yandere trait, one way or another.

YAN! SUGAR DADDY

Rowan will be proud, like really proud. His kid is also the same as his? Yes please. That's a godsent. If the kid is yandere for you? Feisty squirt, hogging all their mommy's attention. But the mommy always comes back to Rowan's arms. Hello probably rile the kid up for fun.

YAN! JOCK

Damon doesn't really have feelings for family. So when he saw his child is a yandere, he's just "meh". This is one of the rare times Damon won't put up a facade since the child will probably see through him. He actively fights for your attention too, but also making sure not to hurt the kid.

If this was earlier years of the kid's living life, then him not hurting the kid will probably due to you. But later, he will not hurt the kid due to the child being his kid.

YAN! ASSASSIN

YAN! EX-BOYFRIEND

Lee's the same with Damon. He doesn't feel that much for family other than you, so he's more or less annoyed when he realized his child is the same as him and the child's special interest (for now) is you. Probably will actively put the kid in playdates to awoken the child's special romantic interest.

YAN! COWBOY

Knoxx will probably be really proud also. Although, with the kid's special interest being you, he will be annoyed as fuck. He will not be actively finding a person to partner the kid up with, but he will probably pray everyday that the kid will find a special romantic interest.

YAN! EMO

Ashton is sensitive and is self aware as time goes by, so he's probably the only one amongst the yanderes that will be sad that his child is one. Being so obsessed with one person is not that much fun, he says. And with the kid being yandere for you, he'll see this as an opportunity to try and ween the kid off of the mindset before it's too late and the kid finds a special romantic interest.

YAN! WEREWOLF

Lyall will not see it at first because werewolves are naturally territorial. The kid is being possessive over you? Just clingy. The kid bit him because he approached you? Again, clingy and territorial. It will be too late to diagnose that the kid is actually a yandere when the kid is already grown up, and has probably killed a person.

YAN! EX-HUSBAND

Iñigo will have mixed feelings. Does this mean that being a yandere runs in the genes? How is that possible? And then, he will also be annoyed at the kids when they hog your affection and actively fight him. He sees them as nuisances. Also will put them in playdates to find their special interests.

YAN! HOSPITAL CHAIRPERSON

Xavier, the paranoid man he is, will be nervous of the prospect of the kid being a yandere also. What kind of yandere the kid will be? Does this mean he has to give the kid a separate house whenever the kid decides to kidnap? Does he need to help clean the kid up whenever the kid decided to kill? But in the end, he's supportive of the prospect. Although, with the kid being yandere with you, he's not really pleased with it.

YAN! VILLAIN

Eros will see this as a win win situation. Such a kid, doing everything for their special interest. Isn't that amazing? So he'll tolerate the kid's actions, even if it meant having to share you for a bit until the kid finds a special romantic interest for themselves.

YAN! POLITICIAN

Maximus will be a bit apprehensive, especially the earlier years. He needs to watch over the kid's actions in public for his family's reputation. He doesn't mind the kid being a yandere, as long as the kid will watch over their actions. He'll probably also help the kid (once they're grown up) to clean up crimes they did.

YAN! MAFIA BOSS

Hades will be really confused, more or less. He wanted the child to be after you, not him. And the kid is also "clingy" with you? It's not really ideal to him. So with a frown, he'll probably also be partial to the kid being a yandere. At worst, toleration, at best, a passive supporter.