#⚔️ ﹐ writings.

[the-bar-sinister]

This is your signal to let yourself write the deranged, uncomfortable, disgusting fiction that you've been thinking about.

[draczrys]

Would you write something about Cregan Stark getting married to a reader of a house of your choice and thus sealing alliances and being fluffy?

WINTER ROSE. ❨ cregan stark x tyrell!reader ❩

since your birth, the third child and only daughter of highgarden’s lord, your fate had always been a marriage for political means. your elder brother would inherit the title, the other set for life as a knight of the seven kingdoms. you were a girl and your purpose was to marry well and secure a strong alliance for your family.

it didn’t take long to come to terms with what your life would look like. you would come of age and be sent away to the lord that would benefit you most. for your family, you would do it. but, every night, you would kneel by your pillow and pray that your husband would at least be kind —- it needn’t be true love, like the stories you often read. as long as he wasn’t cruel.

“cregan stark has been named the new lord of winterfell and is in need of a wife,” your father announced one morning, amidst the feasting hall. “i have sent a raven to offer your hand and he has accepted.”

your mother beamed, grasping your shoulders proudly. “my daughter, lady of winterfell.”

“we are in need of his banners and he needs our grain and cloths for the winter,” lord tyrell explains, shrugging as though it were simply a swap of goods and not the life of his daughter. “it is a fair exchange.”

by the next moon, you were departing the green and gold covered fields of highgarden and journeying north on the roseroad. the colder it became, the more you missed the sweet sun and elegant surroundings of your home. northerners were rough and unforgiving to outsiders, each one you met along the way adding to the dreaded image of your husband.

the first time you laid eyes on cregan stark was when you were taken along the path to the godswood. he was handsome, you couldn’t deny that. but his tall build, stoic features and steady gaze made you shiver —- even under the furs you’d been given. he had the look of a northerner, but did he have the heart of one too?

“by the old gods and the new, i name you man and wife,” the septon concluded the ceremony, unbinding the cloth wrapped around your hands. expectant eyes looked on, forcing a blush upon your face as you reached up and pressed a soft kiss to cregan’s cheek.

if you were to confess under the eyes of the godswood, you were afraid of cregan stark. his eyes were unwavering, lips fixed in a permanent frown. other than his vows of marriage, he hadn't said a word. neither of you were elated to be trapped into a marriage of convenience, but you knew you hadn't any choice in the matter. at the least, he could look like he was enduring it.

sat now at the top table in winterfell's great feast hall, your new husband at your side, the celebrations were growing louder the longer the wine was being poured. you sat quietly, barely sipping at your cup. only when the loud, booming voice of cregan's men rang out did you come back to the present.

"a toast, to the new lady of winterfell! may she be as beautiful under our lord as she is beside him."

the laughs that emulated from it made you grimace, so used to being treated as the perfect lady, protected from all things becoming to a man. you knew of sex, the people of the reach having always been open about their bodies and pleasures, but the northern aggression that came with it was foreign to you.

"to the bedding ceremony!"

the ladies at highgarden had warned you of the tradition that came at weddings, the entire party parading around the newlyweds as they stripped and consummated the bond. it was daunting enough to take your new husband to bed, but to be watched by tens of strangers? it had your heart suddenly hammering out of your chest, every muscle tensing in a cold shock.

"enough!" the commanding voice of the man by your side cut through the cheers, silencing the hall in an instant. it was the first time he had spoken since the ceremony, current volume making up for the silence. "there will be no bedding ceremony. anyone who protests will meet the sword at once."

whilst everyone else cowered under the threat, you felt yourself relax with a warm relief. cregan turns to meet your surprise, both his eyes and tongue turning soft as he speaks just to you now.

"you may retire, if you wish."

nodding gratefully, you follow the gentle hand of your lady-in-waiting out of the busy feast and along the strange halls of the cold castle. even your chambers are cold, the climate seeming to cling to the stone around the bed. the silk nightdresses you had brought with you do nothing to shield you from it, so once your lady departs you begin to forage through the chests for something to keep you warm. eventually finding a smaller set of furs amongst the others, you drape it around your shoulders and relish in the heat that comes with it.

"is everything to your liking?"

jumping in shock, you turn on your heels to find cregan stood at the doorway, just about filling the whole space. his eyes flicker down to the furs -- his furs, covering you and a small smirk pulls at the corner of his lips.

"i'm sorry," you stumble quickly. "it was cold and it was all i could find."

cregan's head shakes, dismissing your apologies. "it's alright. everything here is as much yours as it is mine, now."

you smile, head falling bashfully to glance at the floor. "i hadn't expected everything to be so... different here. it will take some time to adjust, i think."

nodding in understanding, cregan crosses the room to stand in front of you. you feel yourself shiver under his gaze, watching him study you amongst his territory. hesitantly, his hand slips from under his own furs to reach for your own. you let him, both of you treading new water as your learn each other's touch; the smoothness of your palms, the rough pads of his thumbs, the heat that encompassed your chilled knuckles. the sensation is wonderful, like two puzzle pieces slotting together.

"whatever you need to help you enjoy your new life here, no matter the extent, it will be my honour to find it for you," cregan tells you, the kindness in his voice a pleasant welcome. "you are my wife now, it is my duty to make you comfortable."

feeling your cheeks warm, rounding with the first genuine smile in days. your heart swells and the feeling that this marriage might just be okay fills you, so much so that you find yourself reaching up to kiss cregan's cheek once more. unlike the bonding of the vows, this one is genuine and of your own volition, expressing the gratitude you could not find words for.

"i can sleep elsewhere for the night, if you would wish..." cregan continues, clearing his throat to distract from the small blush that creeps past his skin.

"no, stay," you tell him, squeezing his hand. "perhaps we could talk, learn more about each other."

the suggestion eases you both. cregan agrees, using your hand to guide you towards the bed, only leaving for a moment to fetch you more furs for the night. he potters around, changing for sleep, and the domestic scene lets you relax into the pillows.

it wasn't a marriage for love - yet. but perhaps it could be, with time.

[reschatzi]

─── ⌜ mona lisa. ⌟ ─── simon “ghost” riley x you. sub simon. dom male reader. blowjob. gun kink. loaded gun play. boot grinding. hint of blood kink. ( alternative for this. )

imagine simon on his knees, mask rolled up to his nose, as he took your hard cock down his throat. you stood, back against the wall, as your hold on your pistol just slightly trembled. it pointed at simon’s head, finger resting on the trigger guard. ready to curl if he disobeyed.

mind you, that you were in the middle of a mission. he begged so sweetly, you couldn’t resist. the enemies were outside, patrolling as they chattered nonsense with each other. the walls hiding the sight of simon gagging on your cock. his eyes looked up into yours, maintaining eye contact as he looked so dazed.

a silent plead to press it harder into him. you did, his helmet blocking his head. his crotch lowered to the vamp of your boot, rocking against it. he moaned around your cock, sending vibrations – like lighting a fire up your spine. his calloused hands were bare to you, free from the confines of his gloves as they were bloody. you held them up to his nose with your other hand, however, as the stench of an enemy’s blood marked as the reminder of his victory had him turned on.

it didn’t help that you had faux disappointment set on your face, taunting him, degrading him. “fuck, just like that, baby.” you groaned, hips bucking into his warm mouth, “i wish you could see how pathetic you look. god, price would be so fuckin’ pissed at you.” you teased, “but this is our dirty little secret, isn’t it?” you hummed, raising a brow in expectation at him. he bobbed his head in response. eyebrows furrowing as he struggled to please you, heavily breathing through his nose as the enemies grew near.

“mmph...” he moaned, muffled, as he grinds harder against your boot. he swallowed around your cock, tongue teasing at the underside. you dragged the gun down to his masked cheek until it reached his neck, and holy fuck, you weren’t disappointed. you could see a very faint outline of your cock in his throat and he looked so beautiful like this. eyes teary and mouth wide open just to accommodate with your size. the intensity of the situation only made his arousal grow, the taste of your pre-cum sending blood south. he was worthy to be a painting; your very own mona lisa.

they’d call him insane, for sure, and simon wouldn’t care – because they’re right. he’s insane, solely for you.

masterlist main @yarelia

[stjohnstarling]

PHILOSOPHICAL QUANDARY: Does your fencing duel still count as homoerotic when the combatants are a gay dandy vs. a butch lesbian?

[strawberriesforcait]

Padmé has top tier self control in ROTS I would have fucked this man every day of my LIFE there would be no "not here"

[heretodestroyou]

How to cast of hotd will act is they see reader fire bending , maybe like the castle was under attack and someone tried to attack one of the cast and reader had no chose but to spit out fire from her mouth

pairing(s); daemon targaryen, rhaenyra targaryen, aemond targaryen, alicent hightower x fem!firebender!reader

fandom; house of the dragon (HBO Max)

w/c; 412

trigger/content warnings; firebender!reader, canon-typical violence, both the targs and reader have fire immunity, canon divergence, there is no homophobia in westeros, the dragons never danced, unspecified battles

stella speaks! ahahaha finally writing again! i loved this request, tried to crank this out as quickly as possible

Daemon Targaryen's breath is stolen from his throat before the wave of heat dissapates. You'd never given any sign of any sort of power like this. Yes, you're a handmaiden-turned-consort, so the people of the court haven't exactly been kind to you, but now they have to be! Daemon's not about to usurp his brother, but trust he'll be extra bitter that he will never have the throne and Westeros will never have a firebending queen. Oh, and those not-so-nice-people in court? If you're ever before the king and someone mouthes off, Daemon's on it. He doesn't care who he just killed. The important thing is no one is smack-talking you.

If Rhaenyra Targaryen wasn't whipped before, she surely is now. She's fascinated by your firebending, even in the midst of some fight. Harwin Strong already has her thrown over his shoulder and is herding her to safety, but she's still scrambling to be near you. All she really wants is to watch you with those huge heart eyes. Afterwards, she'll insist you tell her show off everything you possibly can. Feasts are being thrown just for you and your new talent, and she calls you her "byka zaldrīzes" (little dragon) in private.

Aemond Targaryen's first honest thought is how to usurp Aegon. Listen, he loves Helaena (Aegon less so), but he just knows everything in Westeros would be right if he could be king and you could be queen. You two could conquer realms, lay waste to armies, even travel across the narrow sea! His mind is bursting with possibilities, and he's gotten together teams of historians to document everything they know about firebending and anything else you can tell them. His new favorite thing to do now is examine your hands, still confused at how there's not a single mark on them from all the firebending.

Whatever you were to Alicent Hightower before you breathed out a wall of fire and saved her life doesn't matter anymore. Now, you're her only Queensguard, made a white cloak, your name is written down as the firebreather, misogyny be damned. Anyone who even breathes a word that you're not suitable to protect the queen consort has their tongue pulled out with hot pincers. Otto tried to bring it upt to Viserys once, but Alicent threatened to have him banished from King's Landing and he's never spoken a word since. He's kind of afraid, since Alicent loves you more than she feras Otto now.

[so-many-ocs]

people always ask me what motivates me to write but i can’t give them the real answer which is that my characters enter my dreams and berate me for abandoning them if i take too long of a break from their stories

[glitchgh0sty]

Don’t mind me,, just writing a thing for the first time in forever [Transformers x dnd mayhem] ⚔️🐉🤖

Transformers Cursed Knights au, chp 1 [under cut <33]

Jazz always loved the night. Under the dim light of a bio lit city. The constant sway of metal, wood and magic pulsing through the air finally ebbing as the bright twisted sun hides its face. Jazz always loved the dark, how its comforting grasp could hide the details of his face. He had just finished the longest shift ever near the tips of the city's necropolis and had positively smiled his own face stiff from under that spotlight’s harsh gaze.

Clenching and unclenching his hands, as they were sore and calloused from countless days of playing the lute, people shouted in his mind and at his face, “Play another Rico! Nono, not that one,, bard play something else. Can you sing any louder? Why must you pick these disgraceful tunes? Play the Primes ballad, play the primes ballad, play the primes ballad!” Request, after request running through his mind on repeat

They always ask for the Ballad of the Primes.

It’s not even a cool story really, Jazz didn’t understand why the court marshals would keep begging him to sing it.

‘Once upon a sunny day, toil in the heat as you may,, under the crown of a filthy king, who controlled the world with an iron fist, near free thought or lovely bliss,, how dare ye Pax, how dare ye still,, loose your monsters on us all, you beg us to plead and fall,, under their talons, breath and teeth,, you and your court of beasts shall fall, make room for the primes, make room for us all,, your heart is made of metal and your mind is made of flame,, so you how dare you betray what you have sewn,, your 13 beasts of burden flatten hills far and wide, all around our country from far side to side, so fall down fall down fall down to the pit from hence you came, we banish you and your unlawful crew to death on this day,,

Doodoodoo yada yada yada,, keep the monsters out, keep us safe and sound oh court of high. Something like that.’

Court. Safe.

Pft- Filthy rich little buggers.

He had been playing for the noblemen that night on the necropolis. People who were in good with the court, so his coin bag agreed to his sacrifice as he swayed down the street. Rico was a name he had supplied to nearly every employer he had as a way to save his face, determined to keep his theatrical and personal life as separate as possible.

Not that it often worked though. As people would call him out down at the market, on strolls across the energon fields, down at the metal smither’s and around every local energy deposit, all swarming and swooning for his voice.

He was borderline sick of it. But hey, that’s just business, his coin bag replied.

He hadn’t had time to change into his commoner clothes before rushing out of the venue so he messed with the cloth of his extravagant collar uncomfortably. It was worth it though, to get out of there so that the light of his spot on the stage might not unmask his disdain for this whole charade.

Whatever

He opened up his side vents a bit to grasp the cool air of the night and ex vented as he entered the field that marked his home. He would have chosen a place a little closer to his buddy Blaster, but the town of Nevercon was only insufferable nowadays. He looked around the comforting dark and decided to scope out a long way home today. I mean what the heck, if he had only the night to breathe, then he might as well wander, without the prying eyes of the town reaching for his voice.

His voice, his voice, his voice..

He was tired of it all, too tired to sing for himself really anymore so he wandered to the border of the woods in silence, letting the noises of the energon stalks swaying in the field and the sound of his own feet on the damp mulch fill the void instead.

He made his way around the woods, enjoying the calm of the night. Passing the trees one by one, over streams and around logs. The berries of the wood and the spirits of the night glowed dimly in the eve so that he knew where to put his feet but not much more.

Thirty minutes, an hour? had passed in the dim of the night before he began to grow weary of his steps. Maybe he should turn around? He had never really come this far before? He dismissed that thought almost as soon as he’d had it. As the further he wandered away from the town, the lighter the weight on his chest had become. He felt like he could finally breathe. But he was growing tired. Maybe he could spend the night out in the woods, like he used to before the court had closed the borders.

He used to wander the world, bringing his tales from land to land, song in his heart, lute in his hand, and not a coin in his bag. But those days were long gone and his expensive regalia itched at his joints uncomfortably as he contemplated sitting down. His outfits were tailored for him by the people who asked for his services, so he would probably never hear the end of it from his employers if they found so much as a speck of dirt on it.

Deciding to quit testing his luck in the dark for the night, Jazz turned to start making his way back to the shabby little house on the hill, but was soon caught dead in his tracks. He listened for the sounds of the world, and his muscles tightened as he could no longer hear anything, any response from said world at all. No whistling wind through the trees, no twinkle of spark lights, no spark lights at all?? It was like the forest was holding it’s breath, lying in wait for something. Or someone.

When did everything get so quiet?

The stories he told came rushing back to his mind suddenly, though he had been singing them all day long. ‘Loose your monsters on us all,’

There’s no way that’s right, his mind whispered with a start as his hands started to sweat. Jazz had been told tales of these woods by worried passerbys, Red Alert for the most part, but nobody had really believed him. Monsters were a thing of legend, and everyone had told Jazz that Red Alert had a screw loose. These were just stories people make up for nothing but entertainment. Jazz would know. But he couldn’t fight the countless memories, quips, tales he had seen countless people whisper about them all the same from tavern to tavern, town to town.

Listening for a moment more, Jazz made up his mind. He was going to run back home like a blitz of thunder and hope to the dead Primus that nothing would catch him. But just before he started off, he heard it. A thump, soft but audible. Or was it more of a bump? No, that would imply that something is here right? But he couldn’t see anything. Ooh he was in it now. Rubbing his sweaty hands on his vest as quietly as he could, Jazz resolved to pick the closest tree he could get his hands on, duck behind it, and prey whatever’s here has absolutely horrible nighttime eyesight. He couldn’t risk trying to run away from a creature of the night, especially in these stiff garments.

Feeling his way around, he cursed as the chains and beads around his sheathed flute let off a light jingle. Stifling that noise with one hand he felt around with the other.

Come on people. Trees?? I’m in the MIDDLE of a FOREST. This shouldn’t be that hard…

Jazz really couldn’t see a thing.

Feeling around and grasping at nothing but air for a while his hand finally slammed into something!

A tree! a smooth. cold tree. Wait. Smooth!?

Jazz gasped in silent disbelief and kept his hand as still as he could muster, though it felt like his spark was trying to claw out of his throat.

Maybe, whatever is here, doesn’t know I am here? I mean who am I kidding, maybe it’s a rock? Yeah, a very cold, smooth, shifting, cool rock. Wait no, that doesn’t work.

Jazz tilted his head up to try to understand the sounds around him, silently hoping the forest would give him a hint as to what his hand might be pressed against.

The ‘rock’ expanded a little, just enough to really test Jazz’s resolve before a low rumble shook the ground beneath his show boots.

Rocks don’t make noise. They shouldn’t make noise? Rocks don’t thump, rocks don’t beat,

Jazz shifted his fingers in desperation, surely hoping he had misread his predicament. As a slow but steady pulse ran up his fingers and down his spine.

Yep no, I read that right the first time, rocks don’t thump, rocks don’t rumble, rocks don’t beat. Holy Primus..

Rocks don’t breathe…

————————————————————————

Thank you @paradoxtheconfused for convincing me to write something after not having picked up the pen for literal years TuT <333

Some context ✨:

[axellis]

the hollyberry kingdom can have week long parties for a number of occasions-- sometimes it matters, sometimes it doesn't. right now, all that dark cacao is concerned for is finding the fastest exit so he can rip the chokehold of a cravat off. but something (someone?) is making him hesitate...

[gmanmedias]

day 7: make a board based off of your favorite toy or plushie

❄️ ❄️ ❄️

💜 💜 💜

❄️ ❄️ ❄️

@bloomics

[the-bar-sinister]

Whumpee, limp, beaten, and half conscious bound up on the hard floor. Whumper kneeling down in front of them and grabbing whumpee's chin, pulling their face up to look at them without resistance as whumpee's head lolls and their eyes fail to fully focus.

[draczrys]

please i need modern!lucerys headcanons 🙏🙏 if you don't do modern aus ghost!luke i think would be fun

harry gilby my fav luke fancast <333

SWEET BOY. ❨ modern!lucerys velaryon headcanons ❩

his love language is quality time

"i'm home!" luke's voice rang out through the small london apartment, pulling you from your book to find him bundling three bags through the front door.

"i thought you were spending the day with your mum and jace?" you asked, brows knitted, setting down the ear-marked novel to turn on the couch.

luke shrugged and abandoned the tesco bags at the door, an arm on either side of your head whilst he ducks to peck your lips. "but you're going away tomorrow for a few days, so i wanted to spend the day with you instead."

your lips pull into a small smile, reaching up to find his cold lips again. luke chuckles against them, nudging at your nose. "pick a movie, i'll go put the snacks in a bowl."

he’s a cat person

a month into living together, luke arrived home with a bashful grin and a suspicious lump under his coat. after bracing you, he produced the most adorable little black kitten from his pocket. between the animal's big eyes and luke's pout, how could you say no?

arrax quickly became part of the family, growing into a beautiful sleek cat, always following luke around the apartment. he was smitten with the animal, constantly sneaking him treats and lifting him into bed when you weren't looking.

"he's going to get hair all over the fresh sheets, luke," you warned him, slipping into pyjamas. but it was too late, arrax was snuggled up beside his neck, the duvet pulled over them both. your two boys were impossible to say no to.

he’s an expert date planner

`'close your eyes." you didn't need to, considering luke had both hands covering your face and stopping you from seeing anything at all. you could feel him grinning with excitement, guiding your unsteady feet along the path.

a small gasp escaped you as your vision returned. the gardens of his mother's estate, dragonstone manor, had been transformed by candles and fairy lights. in the grass was a blanket and cushions, accompanied by a basket overflowing with food and a bottle of champagne. the stars up above shone down on the scene, a soft song playing nearby.

"oh, luke..." you murmured in wonder, turning back to him with wide eyes. "this is beautiful. what's the occasion?"

he shook his head, taking your hand. "no occasion. just wanted to have a nice night."

"we could have done that at home on the sofa," you giggled, following his lead over to the blanket.

"shush, you deserve the best. quick or the ice cream will melt."

he can cook really well

the smell hits you at the top of the stairs, before you even unlock the front door. the entire apartment swells with the homely scent of rosemary and garlic, luke's quiet humming leading you into the kitchen.

"what-cha doin'?" you sing softly, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

"making dinner," he matches your tone, smiling. turning in your hold, he carefully balances a wooden spoon towards your lips, the other hand acting as a safety net underneath. "try."

your lips part, letting him slip the spoon onto your tongue. the flavours burst in your mouth, unable to stop the soft moan that leaves you.

"holy shit," you murmur, peering over his shoulder to the pan. "it tastes like heaven."

luke smiles proudly -- no, cockily, his talents assured once again. rolling your eyes playfully, you pinch his side and roll up your sleeves, quickly delegated to vegetable chopping.

clingy bf!!

you've been awake for at least an hour now, basking in the weekend rest and the warm arms of your boyfriend. he's still fast asleep, snoring on your shoulder. you were perfectly comfortable, but the urge to pee had come on in the last five or so minutes.

as quietly and gently as you can, you slip slowly out of luke's grip and towards the edge of the mattress. you're almost there, having not disturbed him, but then he stirs. his grip on your waist tightens and quickly pulls you back into his side, never opening an eye.

"luke, i gotta pee," you whisper through a smile, but you don't dare fight his grasp.

"no," he groans, hugging you tighter and burying his morning curls in the crook of your neck. "stay. you're warm."

you giggle, head turning to press a quick kiss to his temple. "m'gonna pee all over you if you don't let me go. i'll be two minutes, max."

"fine." he groans again, reluctantly lets his hold on you loosen, letting you slip out from the duvet and onto the cold ground. "but be quick, i'm counting."

[reschatzi]

─── ⌜ got a gun. ⌟ ─── simon “ghost” riley x you. sub simon. dom male reader. mean? reader. cockwarming. gun kink. loaded gun play. unserious threat.

imagine simon straddling your lap, his thighs trembling as he fought his urges to move on your cock. his unsubtle movements of grinding against you only left him whining for release, while you were inspecting your gun.

his eyebrows furrowed in frustration, his knees sore from remaining in that position for so, so long. he couldn’t take it anymore — so he lifted his hips up, and slammed himself back down on your cock. a high-pitched moan left him as you stifled a surprised groan. he took it as permission, stupidly, and began bouncing on your cock. he wrapped his arms around your neck, burying his face into your shoulder in shame.

his walls clenched around you, just begging for you to fuck him already. he let out a whine and that’s when he felt it — your gun. it was pressed against his thigh, causing him to tense. he whimpered as he felt the muzzle dig into his soft skin, and he swore he almost came. you leaned in, whispering so that only he could hear your words, “cum and you’re dead.”

unfortunately for you, he took it as a challenge. the head of his cock leaked more pre-cum, as he continued to ride you like he wasn’t going to see the light of day. his nerves were set alight as he held the knowledge that the gun’s safety was switched off and that it was loaded.

his cock throbbed as he neared his release. “please— i can’t, nnnghnh, ‘m gonna cuuum.” he cried out, unable to stop himself. he tensed once more as you pulled the trigger, not at him, but at an unused box. he came as the shot went off, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

masterlist main @yarelia

[bokutosbabe]

Oh please, can I request the first time s/o rubs her nose against tecchou’s nose?

You don’t have an idea how I love tecchou’s fluff, like, everyone agrees he’s the most affectionate guy😭how I love my baby

AAHFSHSHSVSV I LOVE TECCHOU SM THIS IS SO CUTE. i had a pretty bad mental health week recently so i’m sorry for not finishing this earlier!!

nose to nose–

tecchou suehiro x gn! reader

a/n – this ask was too cute and i actually sobbed bc i love tecchou more than words can describe 🫶🏼

content – tecchou fluff, fem! reader, really just cute relationship type stuff, tecchou calls reader ‘sweetheart’ and ‘ my love ’ ,added backstory for absolutely no reason,i think that’s it! lmk if i missed anything!

synopsis – cute lil nose bumps with tecchou :)

when tecchou had first met you, he didn’t understand why his stomach felt so queasy. was it the soy sauce he’d put in his coffee? no. it couldn’t be that– he’d drank it many times before, so what was different about today?

you–a new addition to the hunting dogs– you were the only new thing about today. his daily rituals of working out during meetings, going on his own little adventures after getting a mission done a little too quickly; all of that would now be thrown off balance because you were here.

this feeling in his stomach would go away sooner or later

or– that’s what he’d thought.

even then; two months after you’d arrived into their little group of strangely strong super freaks, the weird queasiness never subsided within tecchous stomach.

the way you smiled at jouno made his stomach churn in a way that could only be described as anger, but why would he get upset over two of his coworkers just chatting? he wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, so he went to the one member of the hunting dogs who hadn’t been so wrapped up in their space; tachihara.

tecchou went up to the fake ginger and asked him simply about why his stomach burned every time you were around him, yet it also burned with anger when you talked to anyone that wasn’t him.

“i dunno man, sounds like you like her to me-”the other male shrugged. which led to tecchou realizing that he did, in fact, like you.

and that’s what led to now, three months after tecchou had so bravely walked up to you the same day he’d found out that he actually liked you and asked you for “the honor of being his girlfriend” and who were you to tell the (arguably) cutest hunting dog no?

the two of you were sat on your couch, watching another stupid movie that tecchou had picked out. he refused to watch any high tense hostage or action movies; insisting that he “hated people getting tortured for no reason”

you’d been staring at your boyfriend for the past two minutes, trying to telepathically tell him that you absolutely did not want to watch this movie anymore, but he obviously couldn’t get your wavelengths.

the male kept shoving his face full of his buttered popcorn mixed with mustard– something that had his breath smelling disgusting and you avoiding every kiss he’d tried giving you.

“ ‘hiroooo ” you whined out towards your boyfriend, which made him finally turn his attention towards you, popcorn crumbs and mustard stained over his mouth and somehow even on his nose. you could never understand how your boyfriend got so messy while eating; it was a true mystery.

“ yes, my love? ” he’d chirped out, titling his hair so his fluffy hair that you could play with for hours upon hours. “can we change it? this is so boring!”you sighed, leaning closer to him, trying to take the remote that was placed on his lap.

“but i like this–”the males words stopped short when you got closer to him. try as he might, tecchou suehiro was the type of man to basically malfunction whenever you got closer to him. his hands found their way to your waist, moving the remote off his lap, causing you to let out a groan. you were so close and of course your puppy of a boyfriend couldn’t realize what you were doing!

the male moved you onto his lap with a ease, looking up at you as you stared down at him,“ you’re so pretty, y/n.”he leaned up, going to kiss you. and even though you loved your boyfriend, you weren’t going to kiss his popcorn and mustard filled mouth.

you slightly turned, shaking your head before putting your forehead on his, rubbing your nose against his. and let me tell you, tecchou was gobsmacked.

he looked up at you with a small frown, still staying close to you,“my love, do you not want to kiss me?” he asked as you let out a laugh. “you’re breath stinks, ‘hiro. ”

tecchou was never the type to complain, so he’d take the smallest of nose rubs from you, even if it confused him for the first six seconds it had happened.

“ if i go brush my teeth, can i kiss you?” he asked softly

you never did end up getting that remote.

the ending kinda sucked, i’m sorry! but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated, thank you!!

[lovediives]

I Wish I Hated You.

ೃ⁀➷✎ warnings: none! (afaik) ೃ⁀➷✎ pairing: kokushibo x sumiko (oc x canon) ೃ⁀➷✎ word count: 1,733 ೃ⁀➷✎ summary: sumiko asks stupid questions and then gets surprised when she doesn't get answered. ೃ⁀➷✎ a/n: this is barely read. i went insane, giggling to myself about half the scenes. there's something wrong with them. i hope they never get better. i hope you guys enjoy my first. (oh my god its been a year and this is only my first completed writing) of my little messy freaks...! this is very dialogue heavy LMFAO. reblogs appreciated!! ೃ⁀➷✎ divider credit: @/k1ssyoursister

this song goes well with this fic. give it a listen for a better reading experience!

Sumiko was not a woman of patience or virtue; she, alone, was someone who everyone could agree was a frigid bitch. So, when she found herself in the cold, rotating walls of the Infinity Castle, she had the ever-changing expression of a cardboard cutout. Her skirt fluttered in the wind, harsh air hitting against her bare legs as she grit her teeth. Her eyes narrowed on a spot for her to safely land, and, to put it short, she knew she wasn’t getting out of this unscathed. Slowly, rapidly, she wasn’t sure, but eventually she hit the ground, her feet failing to keep herself balanced as she tumbled and tripped until her face made a hard, flat surface. Her hands laid flat against it, pressing and feeling up the area to make up for what her eyes were unable to see in the darkness. Another sense of coldness wrapped around her body, pulling her closer against the freezing plane as she grumbled. Why wasn’t she able to move her head? No matter how much she pushed back, her body stayed stuck in place, almost like…

“I see you have made yourself comfortable, my dear.” A baritone voice cut through the air like a striking blade, and Sumiko’s eyes peaked up and were met face to face with her… issue. Six stupid eyes, one stupid, horrible man whose hands seemed to be keeping her trapped against his body. “Do not worry. I have no issue with holding you for now. Although, you have grown more forward than previously.” Sumiko tilted her head, or at least as much as she could in her current position, and looked down at her hands. Those same hands that were now placed on his chest that she was just earlier groping. A squeal escaped from the ruffled woman as she shot her hands down from his chest to her sides.

“You…!” Sumiko’s voice hissed out like steam from a boiling teapot. “Shut up! You know damn well the reason why my hands were there, Kokushibo!”

The demon’s hands moved over to her long, brown curls of hair, twirling them in his fingers. “Yes,” he stated matter-of-factly, “I am no fool. I’m just a husband joking around with his wife now that she’s returned.” Sumiko scoffed at his response, rolled her eyes, and pressed against his chest to push him enough to get his filthy hands off of her.

“This wife of yours. Is she with us right now? Surely, that dunce of a woman would know how to keep you in check.”

Kokushibo nodded his head, pressing his knees onto the ground to sit as Sumiko stared at him. She crossed her arms as she started to tap her foot impatiently at him. Does this man think of her as a fool? Did he seriously think this was going to work? But, as the clock of time continued to tick down in this endless loop of confusion, it wasn’t long until Sumiko found herself kneeling across from him. “You’re the worst, you know? You knew that I would be stuck sitting with you if I wanted to know what’s going on.”

He continued his journey of silence, leaving the woman adjusting in her position. Her eyes locked onto his (or two sets of them) as she bit onto her bottom lip. “Michi,” she started off delicately, a sigh leaving her lips as she looked down at the ground. If she wanted to get anything out of this man, she was going to have to play by his rules.

“Yes, ‘Miko?”

“Can you please tell me what’s going on?” Silence again. Sumiko had to hold back a rumble in her throat that wanted to explode into a slew of curses and insults. No, she was an adult, an adult who knew better than to play with the second strongest demon in the world. “Please? For your ‘Miko?”

A cold hand moved up against her face. Sumiko watched his hand move up from her jaw, to her cheek… only to… Tap her on the nose. “Do not attempt to manipulate me, Sumiko. I’ve been alive longer than you’ve been reincarnated.” Her fist slammed hard onto the floor as she narrowed her eyes.

“Then tell me what’s going on, Kokushibo! Stop messing with me!”

“You are not stupid, Sumiko. I do not need to explain what you already know. Use that quick wit of yours for a task other than insults, and it will all make sense soon.”

Kokushibo should be killed. That thought ran through her head a thousand times as she imagined the hundreds of ways she could torture and end his life. As condescending and worthless as he was, he wasn’t wrong either… Sumiko scooted off of her knees and sat firmly on her behind as she leaned back. “Yeah, yeah, special blood that…” Sumiko paused. She looked around the empty castle like a child looking around for monsters in the closet and under the bed. “...That man wants. But, there’s got to be more. I know I didn’t agree to just that! Didn’t he tell you anything else?”

“No.”

Sumiko should have kept her sword. Why did she have to be an idiot and leave it back with the corp? It would be a delight to see this man’s head on the ground.

“No? What do you mean no?”

“Sumiko. There is nothing left for you to know. You have blood that Lord Muzan wants, and you willingly agreed to be here. What else is it that you need to know? Your deal is between you and Lord Muzan, not between us.”

Sumiko moved childishly, crawling over to him as she pressed her finger accusingly against his chest. “Then why are you here? The first person I see in this castle just so happened to be you?”

Kokushibo shook his head, moving his hand to rest on the small part of her back. “You truly do not understand the power you have, do you?”

She gasped when she felt his hands wrap around her waist and pull her closer. “What the hell are you doing!?” She shrieked as she found herself plopped onto his lap. Sumiko gulped, now noting how dry her lips were as she wet them. “Kokushibo?”

“Don’t… Call me that anymore.” He said in a hushed voice as he closed his eyes and pressed his head against the nape of her neck. “My… My name is Michi right now.”

Oh… Ohhh… Sumiko let out a weak laugh as she realized the insanity of her situation. Here she was, accusing this upper moon of withholding information from her as if he was the one pulling the strings. A man who had spent months pestering her, claiming that she was his wife. The same man that plagued her dreams with memories that felt so wrong yet so right. Stories and promises she should have never known, but they were forever linked to her soul. Their souls. Right. She nearly forgot why he would be the first one to show up and be there to catch her. “Michi,” Sumiko started, gripping onto the back of his hair tightly. “You’re such a self-centered man.” And yet, as her words spilled out, the strength of her resentment was mixed with a hint of playfulness she never thought she was capable of.

“I missed you.”

Sumiko’s breath hitched at his words. Her eyes shook as she forced a smile to play on her lips. “That talk we had last month…” Sumiko takes a second to recollect herself. Still remembering the loud clash of their swords and how easy it was for him to take her down in just less than a minute. She was so close to death, and yet, he never struck his sword. Sumiko could remember how his eyes lowered, and he offered her his hand. Would things be different if she… “How long? How long have you been waiting for a chance to say that?”

“Centuries. I’ve spent so long without you.” He admitted as he pulled her closer to press a kiss on the corner of her jaw. Sumiko winced at the touch but relaxed and pressed her hands against his shoulders to steady herself. “Gone… gone from my arms for hundreds of years, but you’re back, you’re mine again.”

Sumiko grumbled again under her breath. “Like you hadn’t left your family to become a demon in the first place.” She angrily hissed out. Her voice sounded not of her own, but that anger, that fire burned within her like a memory was crawling out to be released. “Do you think I’ll just let you back in because you waited?” Another kiss to her jaw. And then another, and another. All of them moving up from her jaw to the corner of her lips with dried, freezing lips that made her skin burn at the contact.

“If you didn’t want me, then you wouldn’t have agreed to Lord Muzan’s deal.” He spoke between kisses, teasing her lips with a promise of reunion as he covered over them but went back to her cheek. “The corps were willing to stay by your side. You had allies, friends, family, and yet you threw it all away.” He wasn’t wrong… flashes of her fellow hashira played through her mind, and yet, the one person who kept showing up was Michi. Her Michikatsu. The same man who loved her over 400 years ago…

“You have a lot of confidence for a man this desperate for a woman. Don’t you have any shame?”

“I am just a husband holding his wife in his arms.” This again? Sumiko thought she was going to throw a fit. “If you wish for me to let go, then push me away like you did before, and I will let you be.”

“If I wanted to push you away, I would have done so by now, you foolish man.” The hashira took a few deep breaths as she tried to lean his kisses to her lips. She groaned when he purposely missed her lips. “Michikatsu…”

“Li Fānghuá?” That name sounded bitterly sweet from his lips. He didn’t deserve to know her name, and yet here he was, speaking it like the two of them had never been enemies in battle. Sumiko leaned closer, brushing her lips against his, and she closed her eyes.

“I missed you too.”

[so-many-ocs]

hey

my book came out two weeks (and one day) ago. isn't that neat?

THE MIDLAND THRONE is a queer gothic-ish fantasy-ish novel about the worst people you know fucking around in a building together and eventually resorting to murder. how cool does that sound? you can get it here.