#Doesn't want bugs to fly into his mouth

[theknifeclown]

Dear God, I am in love with him

HElp

[dollfacefantasy]

second thoughts ♡

toji fushiguro x fem!reader

your ex keeps popping into your head during sex with toji, so he'll just have to make sure you can't think at all instead

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, size kink, dumbification, mentions of intrusive thoughts

tags: @gor3-hound @nexysworld

"Right here," he growls, "Look right here. Right in my fuckin' eyes."

His large hand held your head in place by your jaw. He gives it a sharp jerk, jostling your thoughts into place. Making sure you're completely focused on him. His lower half thrusts against you hard and fast, stretching you out with each rock of his hips.

"'m lookin'" you whine, your lips parting as little mewls fly out.

"Good. Good girl," he grunts.

The muscles in his abdomen flex as he keeps pounding into you. He wasn't taking it easy on you tonight. He was determine to make sure you couldn't think of anything but him.

The past couple of weeks things had been off between you two. Since you started dating, your relationship had always been very physical. You had sex once a day at minimum, and when he wasn't inside of you, he had a hand somewhere on your body. He may have struggled with true intimacy, but physicality came easy.

The problem he'd noticed recently was you didn't seem as into it as you usually were. You seemed kind of spaced out. You got pretty quiet when you were typically vocal.

His first reaction was insecurity. Was he not pleasing you? Were growing bored of him? The possibility of that unnerved him to his core, but he tried to convince himself those couldn't be true. You never denied him when he initiated, and you still loved to cuddle and hang off his arm whenever you could.

After another round of you looking distracted while he was balls deep, he finally just had to ask.

"Sorry..." you'd said, looking up at him sheepishly, "I just... I'm having trouble focusing."

Your tone almost made him feel guilty for asking, but your reasoning didn't answer all his questions. He knew you had trouble with concentration and intrusive thoughts sometimes. He just didn't think it would apply to this.

"Focusing?" he murmured, ducking down to plant some kisses on your cheek, "Am I not doing it right, baby? You know... I'm open to pointers."

"No... it's not that. It's just..." you continue. You hesitate as to whether or not you should actually tell him.

"C'mon, angel face," he said, nuzzling your jaw, "You know you can tell me. I want you to feel good too."

"You do make me feel good," you reassured, "It's just that I can't get my brain to be quiet. And when we're doing it, I keep thinking of my ex boyfriend, and it doesn't feel good. I don't like him at all, it's just like my mind wants to bug me."

Even though the idea of you thinking about another man during sex causes jealousy to flare within him, he reins in the instinctive anger he feels. By the pained look on your face, you clearly were just as displeased with it as he was. And while it hadn't happened in a while, he couldn't pretend like he'd never had his late wife dance through his thoughts in the heat of the moment.

So he didn't make you feel bad about it. He sighed and told you it was ok. You wanted to finish though and so he got you both to finish. He held you after like always and let you fall asleep against his side, but in his own mind, he planned for things would be different next time. There was no way he was gonna let some other guy keep you from enjoying yourself with him.

That's what led the both of you to now. He keeps your gaze locked with his own as fills you to the brim. Your eyes are glossy but with the haze of pleasure now rather than distraction, and he can't enough of it.

"That's right, babydoll. It's all me now, isn't it?" he coos lowly in your ear.

"Mhm," you whimper and nod, your head bobbing extra from his momentum.

"No room for anyone else," he grunts and digs his fingers into the plush of your cheeks.

Your lips puff out under the pressure, and he leans down to mash his mouth against your own. The kiss is wet and sloppy, your saliva and his mixing together while he nips at your bottom lip. He ruts into you faster, his breaths growing more ragged.

"Fuck.. Toji," you whimper arching your back and pressing your tits up against his chest.

"That's all you're gonna be able to say when I'm done with you, sweet thing," he says.

You whine and nod. That was what you wanted. Just him. If he was the only thing on your mind, you were happy. A big, dazed smile drifts to your features to match your fucked out eyes.

"That's a biiiiig smile, princess," he coos mockingly, "Who's making you smile like that?"

"You are," you whimper.

"Right. No one else can make you smile like that," he says.

You nod again and yelp when his cock rams into a sweet spot inside you. He chuckles at the sound and lifts his hands to rest above your head, caging your body below his.

"My baby. You're all mine. Mine to fuck dumb every. single. night," he pants.

"Don't want anyone else. Just you," you babble and drag your nails down his back.

"I know it," he says.

He then quickly reaches down, securing your hips with an iron grip and fucks into you as deep as possible. You see stars stars and let out a sound you can't control. You tighten around him like a vise, keeping him nice and deep where you need him.

"My Toji," you slur and bring your own hands back up to slide through his hair.

He moans quietly, and his eyes flutter shut. His hips sputter a bit as he feels his release creeping up on him.

"Gonna cum soon, dollface. Get you nice and full of me so even when I pull out, you know who that pussy belongs to," he mumbles.

You mewl in ecstasy, eager to feel him shoot deep inside you.

It doesn't take long for you to get your wish. His body lowers against yours, his flushed, sweaty skin sliding against your flesh. He pumps into you desperately with a groan as he drains himself between your tight, velvety walls.

He lets it all sink inside you before pulling out. His cock is still slick with your arousal. He leans back and pushes your thighs up, taking a look at your pussy stuffed full of his cum. Just how it should be.

Up top, you were still blissed out. He huffs out a laugh at your drooping eyes and contented expression.

"How you feeling, baby?" he asks and crawls back on top of you to give you some lazy smooches.

You hum and rub your nose against his cheek. Words were too hard right now in the best way.

He smirks and nips at your nose teasingly.

"Head all clear?" he whispers.

"Mhm," you say with satisfaction, opening your eyes wider and taking in the face of the man who had you now, mind and body.

[amara-scott]

Imagine Mattheo and Theodore fighting over you constantly.

P.1

Reader x Mattheo Riddle / Reader x Theodore Nott

"The picknick was a good idea, I have to admit." I say, dropping another grape into my mouth, a full mouth turned into a smile. I sneak another one out of the basket Theo is carrying.

I glance over at Theo and he nods, grinning. He winks. "I know, Carina. I always have the best ideas, you should know that by now." I roll my eyes in amusement at his cocky statement.

As if on cue, I see a brown mop of curls rounding the corner, making me sigh. Great. Just great.

"Hey, what a surprise." Mattheo says, not seeming too happy as his eyes land on Theodore beside me. Mattheo shuffles something inside his jacket, flashing white, which I only catch a glimpse of. But I can't even question what it was before these two begin staring each other down.

An undeniably painful pause is the only thing holding me back from just turning around to run away. It's scaring me to even move a muscle. If these two don't sort out whatever is bugging them, I won't hesitate and avoid them both. I really did try to help them befriend each other once more. Their inner rivalry didn't get unnoticed by the rest of our friend group either. What has gotten into them these past few weeks?

"(Y/N), let's get going." Theo's free hand wraps around my wrist, not even glancing at me once while talking. He turns and tries to pull me with him, but not before Mattheo steps up, pushing Theo.

I stumble with him, still being in the grasp of Theo's strong hand. He let go and I take a step back.

"Excuse me?!" I get out before straightening up, rearranging my cloak. My glare hits Mattheo, but he is fixed on the boy in front of him as they now nearly graze noses. If I didn't know these two, I'd say one of them would be a Gryffindor. That would make sense at least. This is worse than Draco and Harry.

"Where do you think you're taking her, huh?" He grits out, and I can't say a word, too stunned I am being dragged into this ongoing fight now.

"Stop it, both of you!" I yell, but neither of them are backing down, making it really hard not to just ask a Professor to break them off. I glance around, only a few students hushing past, not daring to spare a look.

"We are going somewhere that is none of your concern, Riddle."

"Yeah? I don't think so, Nott."

"Why don't you fuck off and shag one of your whores, mind your own damn business!"

I had never seen either of them so worked up, which certainly was scary to look at. I try once more, "boys, come on, this is ridiculous." I gulp as they still don't look at me. My heart starts racing, and I try to find a way out that won't result in broken noses or wands at each other throats. What is going on with these two?!

"Come on, (Y/N)." Theo says again, making me debate what I should do. Pick a side? I don't want to be the reason one is more mad or disappointed by what I do.

"No." I mumble, feeling my eyes sting as I blink. I gulp once more, Theo's eyes finding my form a few feet behind Mattheo. His face relaxes as he looks at me.

"See? She doesn't want you, Nott." I can only make out the corner of Mattheo's lips as they curl up into a grin. Which doesn't help my situation.

"I'm not picking a side here, Matt, you are both acting extremely childish over – over, who knows what!" I turn and storm off, ignoring Matt and Theo yelling my name.

These idiots took it too far now. I won't speak a word – won't spare them another glance. Ugh, boys!

___

"-and he pushed Theo! Like a little kid! What is going on with these two?" I sat across from Pansy, piercing my fork into my piece of chocolate cake over and over again until it went mushy and the appetite left me. I sigh, my fork dropping onto the table, and I bury my face into my hands.

"You know them. They will get over it. Theo probably stole Matt's last fudge fly. They're boys, just like you said." She mumbles and keeps chewing on her dessert, eyes scanning the next page of her Witch Weekly magazine.

"I hope you're right." I mutter under my breath.

"Hey you two-" Draco joins us at the table, sitting down next to Pansy, Enzo settles beside me, I send him a brief smile.

"What's pestering you, (Y/N)? Or should I ask – who's pestering you?" He snickers and earns a stare from Pansy, making him shut up.

"Wait – do you know something, Draco?" I ask him and squint my eyes at him. He obviously does, as he stutters for a word, shaking his head. His cheeks slightly pink.

"Enzo, what is going on? Where are the others?" I turn to him, he sighs but shakes his head, sending me a small and sorry smile.

"I promised not to tell anyone. Especially not you, love." I grow irritated with the lot and push myself up, sending another glare at Draco, he would be easier to break. I take out my wand, holding it by my side and start boring holes into his head. He tries to avoid my deathly stare. But then he makes the mistake of connecting his eyes with mine.

"If you won't tell me right now where they are, I will personally make sure to have you grow a second nose every day, for the rest of the year – you will smell things you wish you didn't –"

"– come on, (Y/N), we promised –"

"– In the library, in the far back corner on the second level –" Draco squeaks, making Enzo glare at him in shock.

"We promised, Draco!"

"I don't care, I know she'll do it. I don't want a nose on my bum one morning! She knows how to get into our dorm." Draco snarls and glares at the table as I hurry off. Pansy only smirking and eating her second dessert in peace.

"Go get them!" She calls out without looking up and I wave her off, pushing past a few people on my way. My heart is racing and I don't know if I want to even meet these idiots. I promised myself to ignore them. Well that didn't take long for me to break.

I round the corner and walk into the library. My racing thoughts made this quiet place unbearable as I heard every damn thought of mine. But just as I take the last couple steps on the stairwell, I am met with hushed shouting.

"– how about you're both idiots? I really am hungry and if you two make me miss dinner, you won't sleep another night –" I hear Blaise taunting. I glance between a few books on the shelf, making out three heads. There they are. Blaise sits by the window, I could see his face clear as day. Theo sat sideways, eyes turned to the table in between them both. Mattheo on the other hand stands, pacing back and forth. He stops, just as my breath.

"Theo simply has to admit that he went behind my back. He took away the only thing that really mattered –"

"The only thing that mattered? The only thing that mattered to you was to simply get laid! Like always – just pick a different girl!" Theo stands up too now, Mattheo stepping up to his figure.

Blaise suddenly steps between them, hands on either chest and looks back and forth. "Hey, boys, you truly think we haven't had these lines already tonight? You're both ridiculous."

So this is about a girl? Is this about –

"Well, (Y/N) would never pick someone like you."

Shit.

"Like me? You're one to talk, Nott – stealing her from me, right after I told you I liked her. I trusted you, you are supposed to be my fucking best mate!" Their hushed voices are not so hushed anymore and I glance down to Miss Pince's desk. She narrows her eyes, scanning the upper level.

Blaise is struggling to hold Mattheo back now, Theo's lips curling into a smirk. I lean closer, my eyes still wide. How do they both like – me? Is this a stupid prank?

WHACK!

I was obviously leaning onto the shelf a bit too much as a book fell to the ground. Their heads turn to me and I could now clearly see all of them through the opening. I give them a weak smile and wave. "Hey –"

"(Y/N)?" Theo asks, stepping forward, around the shelf. I meet him half way, Mattheo’s eyes as hard as stone. My mouth feels dry while I try to think of what to say. I shrug and try to smile. My eyes land on Blaise who seems relieved, sighing as he walks up to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder, glancing between Theo and Matt.

“Maybe you’re the best to talk to them right now.” He pats my shoulder and turns to leave, I turn my head, wanting to tell him to stay, my heart racing. Blaise stops, glancing back at me. “Good luck.” He smirks and skips down the staircase. I really don’t want to turn back around so I take my time, gulping as I focus on both their shoe pairs instead of any eyes. Theo steps up slowly. “Carina, what did you hear?” My eyes shoot up at his question and Matt huffs, falling back into a cushioned arm chair.

“Obviously she heard it all. Otherwise she would be smacking our heads by now.” He mumbles at the end, his head held high as he’s glaring down at his knees, his hands squeezing the soft armrests. His sharp jaw clenching every now and then.

“I- I really-“ I take a deep breath shaking my head. “- don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Theo sends me a small encouraging smile. Matt’s head rolls back as he groans out.

“Oh please, stop that stupid emphasizing scheme!” Matt stands back up and joins us, glaring at Theo in disgust. Theo just rolls his eyes, turning to him.

“Just because you’re cold-hearted and only care about yourself doesn’t mean everyone has to-“

“-oh I only care about myself? You’re one to talk, fucking backstabber-“

“-Me? You are-“

“Hey!” I yell out, them both turning to me as they are once again almost choking each other. I ignore a few shushes thrown our way. Mattheo’s eyes soften as I look directly at him. His lips part and in his eyes I see that he’s struggling to hold back from saying what’s on his mind. “Matt-“ I get out, holding back my own emotional rollercoaster.

“I- I can’t-“ He stammers, rushing past me and running down the stairs, leaving. I walk up to the railing, my hands closing around the cold wood while I am looking after him.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” My head snaps around, Theo’s sad eyes glossy. He looks down, stepping closer and stops a foot from me. His eyes wandering back up, like he’s taking one last good look at me. Taking me in.

“It’s always been him.” He continues.

———

For part two choose your ending:

Mattheo

Theodore

Third ending?... (coming soon)

[running-with-kn1ves]

(if you still write plssss I just love your stories) What about a yandere omega male obsessed with the gentle alpha female reader from another clan...and alpha female reader was different..she's not demanding,always patient, gentle and respectful...and sometimes loves cool quiet places ....and he's even more obsessed that it's his mate...but the problem is...she doesn't want a mate cause it's terrifies her cause she doesn't want to be a horrible person cause she's an alpha female cause she might get misunderstood....so ....the yandere omega is very very manipulative and very knows how to guilt trip her to making her mind and take her to bed s3x.....

A/N: For some reason this spoke to me. Very little proof read so I apologize if the smut doesn't make much sense or I get common a/b/o knowledge wrong lmao.

CW: Drink spiking, alcohol, yandere omega, AFAB alpha reader, smut, sex from behind, physical violence.

Synopsis: An omega keeps harassing you, begging you to be his mate. It isn't until one night when you're off your game, does he "win you over."

"C'mon, won't you humor me a little bit," the omega's eyes widened in hopeful desperation, a small smile quirking up from the tip of his mouth. "Just one, please?"

"Will you bug off already? I already said no, I've got my own. Go find someone else to pester."

"But you're nearly finished, hm?" He taps on your glass, looking up at you from against the table. He just barely met your height, but from the way he crouched on the barstool, running a ring around your cup with his finger, he embraced his place from below.

"I promise, just a drink and I'll let you be."

Your migraine grows; whether it be in the office, from your windows, or here at your only safe space-- the bar outside your apartment, he's antagonizing you wherever you go. Just a drink, he pleads. Just some coffee or a short dinner-- anything to get you to agree to be "his." His alpha, the bearer of his children “who'll be well taken care of,” he promises.

You've grown tired and irritated, your usually calm and civil demeanor relenting after a couple drinks. But still, your instinct to be kind to those weaker than you, to protect the fly currently stopping you from enjoying your solitude, kicks in.

"Fine," you give up. "Just one. Then please, will you stop trying to convince me? I'm not looking for a mate, and the more you bug me the less willing I am to accept your offer."

To you, the offer was pretty much off the table. But he was so persistent, influencing the idea to cross your mind more than once.

He lit up, grabbing the bartenders attention with a snap and tap on the bar. Despite the harmless, awkward body language he gave off, he wasn’t as “puppy-like” as most omegas appeared. Sure, there was that cuteness he tried to use to appeal to you, but it wasn’t as helpless as he tried to play it to be. He was using his charms as best as he could, licking his lips and using the new line of pheromone-reacting cologne you had heard so much about from your coworkers. Sometimes, you smelled your fellow alphas using it, trying their best to attract a mate, as if they didn’t already have an overpopulation of omegas flocking to their side. 

“I’m Lane, by the way.” the flirty omega said, a new cocktail in his hand as he swirled its straw. It was awfully thick for some tequila and fruit juice, the color almost turing an off-white and red. 

“I know.” You sighed, wondering how he could’ve thought you forgot his name after so many advances. Maybe it was just another attempt at riling up your inner instincts to find an mate, to repeat his name in your mind. 

“And I know you, of course,” He slyly moves forward, pushing the drink closer to you. “You’ve been avoiding me lately, lovely. Why so? Have you found a different omega to share your time with?” 

You hated how he spoke so plainly, how you were an alpha, how he was an omega, how everyone else-- no matter their standing-- was a threat or an outsider. 

You take a sip of the drink to appease him, wordlessly hit with a taste you could smell from a mile away. 

You tried not to spit it out, to be polite, to avoid the anger bubbling in your liquor-swishing stomach. 

“No. I’ve been busy, working. You know, trying to make a living, to support myself. What is it that you’ve been doing besides harassing me?” 

You didn’t know what exactly it was-- with the amount of inventions created these days to induce heat, to heighten pheromones, to attract a mate-- you knew it was something extracted with his fragrance, the essence of his identity as an omega-- to bring out the inhumane, animalistic need inside of you to protect and keep him for yourself-- to choose him, like he had done you. Just as he wanted. 

You could avoid the constant, offputting stench he covered himself in to make your inner nature hungry-- but this, the drug, or the... Part of him, that you didn’t want to think about, that was inside of you now-- was enough to drive you mad. 

His cheeks were a bit red behind their tan tint, resting on his knuckles as he looke up at you, so enraptured in your presence. He liked hearing you talk even if it was at his expense. 

You wanted to choke him, shove him against the pool table in anger for spiking your drink with something so crude. Yet, you could do nothing but keep your mouth shut, suffocating on his smell, on the feeling between your thighs and the need to find an omega, quickly. 

But alphas didn't go home with omegas without there being strings attached-- one night stands with your own kind was fine enough, but it wasn’t as satisfying as you know it could be. 

You put your head in your hands, pushing away the drink. One sip was enough to take you to hell. You should’ve been meaner to him, less tolerant. 

“You know, I don’t know why you’re so hesitant to find a mate. With your mother pressuring you, your coworkers almost entirely paired up-- you think it’d be about time.”  Lane’s hand slides to your shoulder, rubbing it in a gentle back and forth. 

“How do you know about that?” You groan from behind your arms, hardly phased by how much he knows about your life. Well, after three months of harassing you, he was unlikely to stay at just a distance. 

“I hear around! They’re worried about you, you know. Wondering if you’ll keep suppressing yourself during rutting season, how you’ll handle this, season… its only weeks away; are you going to keep using blockers?”

“It’s none of your business,” You sigh through your teeth, grinding them together between words. “I don’t.. I can’t handle having an omega in my life. You don’t understand what it’s like-- to be me. I’ll hurt them, I can’t be around anyone.”

You put a palm over your eyes, breathing through your mouth. Maybe you can last it out, if you could just get out of here. 

Lane jumps at the sound of that-- he’s heard your fears, seen them written on your face and through your bedroom window. He’s practiced a million times in situations like this to convince you-- that you aren’t as scary as you think you are, that even if you were, he would handle it all. He would take care of you like no other mate. It was what he was made for. 

“My love, oh-- you don’t even understand. Even if you were too, well-- rough, I’d never leave your side. I’m not afraid of you-- i’m not like the other omegas that’ve tried to capture your attention. With their weak, doe eyes, you’d massacre them-- I know it. But me, I can handle all of you, I promise.”

Lane sounded so earnest, a hopeless romantic’s authenticity dripping from his voice. He didn’t care if he had to play into your fear-- it was unlikely he’d ever be able to completely alter your esteem anyway. Atleast now, he could make you believe that he could hold all of you. 

You looked to the corner of your eye, watching how confidently he believed in his words. You weren’t quite sure if he was right, if anyone was stable enough to take how needy and protective you’d be as their alpha. You’d seen those who nearly break their mate, yet stay with them in an attempt to cure their loneliness. You couldn’t handle being like that. 

Lane took your hand away from your face, bringing it up to his. 

“You call for me… I know it, just as my body and soul long for you.. Won’t you do whats right, won’t you let two soulmates be together?” 

He lets his tongue peak between his plump lips, licking at the salty ridges of your palm, closing his eyes in bliss. 

He’s never managed to get this close to you before, your guarded nature always so skittish, so alert and defensive.

“Lane,” You huff, stumbling out of the barstool. You didn’t have the capacity to argue with him, to throw his pheromone-ridden drink in his face. If you didn’t get home now, you’d be long gone. It would be a rough night, but you couldn’t let your instincts get the best of you, not when they could make you hurt someone. 

“I’m..leaving. Don’t follow me--you’ll regret it, please.” 

You grab your jacket and bag, thinking twice about slamming back the rest of your bourbon. But it was better to be as clear-headed as you could; you’ve never been hit this hard with such a need before, except when you had your first rut as a late teen.

This though-- this was targeted at a specific individual. The omega who wanted you, who played with your impulses by injecting his own into the mix. You had to get away, lest you succumb.

Your eyes were hazy and dark as you pushed through the chiming door, out into the wet street of musty asphalt. 

Two blocks, thats all you had to cross. Then, you’d be free to writhe in bed and do your best to suppress the reaction inside of you. 

“Wait!” You heard Lane stumble behind you, only making you walk faster. “You can’t leave yet, let’s just talk!”

He struggled to keep up with you, stamina and legs far shorter than your own. Outside of the bar, in the streetlights and misty fog he was taller, almost… ominous. You would be more on edge if he wasn’t just a pathetic omega searching for your attention. 

You felt better in the cool air, away from his smell filling up the bar, but now he came back to haunt you, stuffing up your nose and throat with such a sweet, suffocating musk. 

You bent over, almost ready to gag at how hard you were trying to swallow your drool. 

“Are you okay?” He hugs your side, a hand on your back for comfort.  

Resting your palms on your knees you watch as he comes forward to bend down, pulling hair away from your eyes. He was warm, warmer than you, covered in whiffs of that pheromone cologne, letting it blind you in waves as you try to not breathe. But it was growing inside of you, you couldn’t get away with both his hands coming down to wrap around your wrists. That bigger, hungrier part of you didn’t even want to; It was grander than your insecurity, growing larger than your rational humanity. 

If you had the strength to hold back anymore, you could launch him 10 feet away from you. But you didn’t want to. You had to, to get away, to spare him from what he didn’t know-- but you wouldn’t. 

You watch the breath come from Lane’s mouth, letting his glasses get covered in a foggy film. He was so stereotypical, so obviously desperate to be taken care of and needy for a big bad alpha to keep him safe, to raise her pups. 

You moved in, just an inch, just to inhale that scent from his tongue. It was enough for Lane-- enough to make his smile break wide. He couldn’t hide it; it was hard to keep his ecstasy at bay when you were wrapped around his finger. So much work, so many efforts to capture you, and it was finally coming to fruition. 

“Come on, I’ll take you home. Your apartment’s this way, right?”

Of course it was this way, was there any need to pretend anymore? But he couldn’t help it, he was so used to acting undercover for you, to get you off your guard. 

You’re too sickly, going green as he lets you wrap an arm around his shoulder, hardly able to move your jellified legs forward. You wanted to pounce so badly, to mark him in that alleyway--  but maybe, he’d do you a kindness, and leave you to your own devices in your apartment, keep himself away like you told him he should. 

“You’ve… got to go--” You hiccup back a gag, feeling that sweet burning turn into a twisted ache, the desire that was once sort of pleasurable, now a great pain. 

“I can’t do that, I won’t leave my alpha all alone on the street. You won’t even be able to make it home if it wasn’t for me. That stuff will render you paralized, you know.”

“The, drink..?”  You push back another wave of nausea, stopping for a second to collect your senses. But there was nothing left to collect, you were all over the place, and you wouldn’t be better until the thirst was quenched. 

He grinned a tad, having waited for you to bring it up. Lane was sure you’d realize it was tampered with as soon as he pushed it toward you. But really, he expected you to push back more, to be smarter and slide it away. But you were too polite, almost gullible in a sense. 

Lane avoided the question, lifting your chin with the hand that wasn't keeping you standing. 

“Ah look, home sweet home.”

The lamp in your apartment window dully illuminated its open blinds. You could see directly into your bedroom, sloppily made bedsheets and clothes strewn across the floor. How many times had a stranger seen you hunched over your computer, or changing after a shower?

You swallowed back the salivation on your tongue, desperately trying to ignore the hot hand Intertwining itself into yours. You didn't have to be psychic to know Lane must've peaked through this window a dozen times from the way he eyed it so familiarly. 

His awareness of where your apartment sat, down to the floor and door number, was nauseating.

You stumbled with labored breaths, turning instinctively to the elevator, down the end of the hall. Lane turned with you, practically leading the way with skips of anticipation. 

You were bombarded with “how are you doing's?” And “just a little longer, my sickly mate” as Lane tortured you with pet names and brushes of his knuckles against your forehead. You were sweating now, heaving as your clothes felt too tight and your skin too sweltering. 

He had forced you to choke on his scent, to make your belly sting and throb unbearably, with each soft, caring, omega-like touch, always making sure his neck or wrists were in tasting view. 

The door to your apartment swung open, despite your head too foggy and pounding for you to search for your keys. Lane held a pair of something jingling in his hand, and you wondered If it was your messy keyring, or his. 

“There we go…” he cooed, shushing your panting as you stumbled against the couch.  “It's late, don't want to upset your neighbors, baby.”

“I'm home..” you gasp to yourself, trying to shuffle to the back bedroom, thanking the heavens that Lane’s scent was drifting farther away. That five minute walk home was hell, a hell you didn't realize you were in until you were out. 

The light peeking from the outer hall diminished, apartment door clicking shut and deadbolt sliding in with a lock. 

Now, only Lane and your breathing filled the air, the AC unit quietly humming-- yet doing nothing to cool the prickling burn of your skin. Your body was wracked with waves of fire now, only calming when Lane was near. You thought the burning was worse when he stood close to you, but with the omega’s body heat begin to drift away, your knees began to buckle. 

A hand in the dark from out of nowhere pulled you to the back of your apartment, across the kitchen and past the bathroom, into your dimlit bedroom. Even without his hand, you could’ve followed Lane’s overpowering smell covering every surface of your home. 

“You don’t look so hot; come lie down, okay?” 

Just lying down, taking a breather, it sounded so harmless. But what kind of person drugs you with pheromone enhancers, only to bring you home and let you “lie down?”

You feel for your bed with numb fingers, your bedsheets adorned in yellow light from your second-hand lamp. Lane picks up your foot as you sink into the bedsheets, untangling your shoelaces and slipping the sneaker off. He does the same to the other, placing your legs onto the end of the bed. 

Your head was a disaster, a mix of spinning sights of your room and drifting thoughts. 

“Ugh.. make it stop--” You covered your mouth, preventing from gagging any harder. Maybe throwing up would be a good thing, you could get this bitter-sweet flavor out of your mouth, and the cause of your suffering to release you. 

“I can make it stop, my mate.. you know what we need to do,”

“No--” You choke back your drinks from tonight “Anything but that-- I already told you…” Lane pushes a sweat stricken piece of hair from your forehead. “M’not looking for a mate..” 

Your legs curl up instinctively as your stomach begins to tighten, beneath your jeans beginning to cramp painfully. 

“Mayhaps not… but, you need one, no? To end this? To take care of you right now?” Lane can’t help but watch you, rubbing your hip as you bury your head into a warm pillow. His whispers make the hairs on your neck go cold, standing straight. “Just tell me yes, and all this can go away. You’ll feel okay. Better, even.” 

You go quiet. How long can you endure this? You won’t be able to go into work tomorrow, and your weekend plans are likely ruined. This isn’t just some overnight, rut-mimicking elixir… you can feel it, it’s altering your ability to think and speak. The last time you avoided using suppressors alone, you were bedridden for a week. This is different; this is attacking your instincts, erasing what control you had over yourself left. You could already sense the frustration and anger rising. 

What if it didn’t go away after tonight? Could you... Stop yourself from attacking someone? From grabbing that omega two floors down, so vulnerable and alone in their one-bedroom, rickety apartment? The landlord won’t come for another week…

Lane, as if his gut didn’t already speak to him to obey an alpha, wouldn’t go against your desires despite how close he was to tying you to him forever. You were his mate, and he wouldn’t let your relationship start off so sourly. He watched your eyes go dark, heavy breathing grow animalistic as something inside you was no longer holding you back. He wanted your permission, needed it, craved it.

“Just nod your head… I’ll do the rest. I’ll make it end, and you won’t have to come to this empty house alone anymore. We’ll start our family--”

You nod your head, cutting off his meaningless rant. Its short at first, a mix between yes and no, before you furiously grip the mattress, drawing blood from your lip.

“Just do it,” You bite, trying not to focus on whatever he was spewing on about. You were stuck underwater, getting farther beyond reason the longer you stared at his forearms. His rolled sleeves exposed naked skin, the heat of his other hand and its back pressed to your cheek.“Before I rip you to pieces.”

Lane was swift to your backside, fingers grooving to get stuck at your hips. You didn't have the ability to see his gleaming eyes through your hazy ones. But an alpha didn't need to rely on their sight to sense prey in the dark. 

He was enthralled, hot breath against your muggy neck. He became quick to completely press up against you on his side, mimicking the direction of your body as the lump in his pants were ground further between your legs from behind. His crotch was forced against yours, bringing a pained bliss. But it wasn't enough to quell the burning inside of you. 

“Yes…yes,” he huffed, disbelief in his voice to accompany shaking fingers. 

It took him a solid three tries before Lane managed to pull your pant zipper down to its base, tugging your jeans to the floor unceremoniously. It wasn't sexy, but the lust perspiring in the room made your salivation drip to the pillow beneath your head. 

“Be patient love, please. I promise, you'll feel so good--”

You felt him slowly slide your undergarments, too slow. The growl you released was one you had never heard come from your mouth before-- or anyone, for that matter. Even other alphas during their ruts, pissed at every little inconvenience and willing to bark at you on the sidewalks, were far more composed. 

“Just take it off!”

You ripped the underwear in rage, exasperating through your teeth as you pushed your hips back against his crotch. Tugging Lane’s strained boxers to his ankles, his precum glossed and dribbled to your sheets.

He didn't need your biting words to tell him how eager you were to get this over with, to rid yourself of the panic in your chest and the fire in your loins. 

You were dripping, moreso than you had in years. The slick squelshed between your thighs-- a perfect habitat for Lane’s needy, pink-tipped cock. He slid between your legs like he was made to be there, precum and slick mixing as he lazily rubbed himself in, and out, getting closer to your pulsing cunt. 

You gripped behind you, claws and fangs bared in frustration. But Lane was smart, grabbing you by the hips and wetly burying himself inside. 

He hid himself in the back of your neck, your scent bringing a small comfort as he dealt with the wrathful beast taking over your body. 

Your hips moved in circles, air permeated with hot breath, sweat, and agonizing pheromones. You were sure your alpha neighbors could smell it through the walls, their senses far heightened and eagerly searching for their own omega; but this was the scent of one who was being claimed, one who was claiming you and holding you taut against him. 

Lane did his best to satisfy you, to cater to your anger and sexual frustration as your hand found his on your hip, interlinking your fingers with his own to dig your nails into his skin. You were drawing blood, an unecessary mix to the flurry of smells creating your crazed demeanor. 

“Hurting.. Me,” He gasped, engorged cock stuttering inside of you. 

You let go, only out of the desire to get that reeking blood away. You didn’t care how hurt he would become, if his body was crushed under your power and lust. Lane brought this upon himself, no matter how many times you warned, begging him to stay away and leave you be. Now, there was very little sympathy to be had. 

The pain, the burning touch of your skin, did nothing to dissuade him. 

“Faster..” You huffed, annoyance lathering your voice. “ Don’t make me take over and-- break you,” 

You cringed at the sound of your voice, trying to turn away to smush your face into a damp pillow. Sight was not getting easier, and the cock barreling in even thrusts-- pushing your arousal to the edge-- was not making you any more satisfied.

“Don’t look away, then;” Lane panted, moving the hand supporting your hip, to hold up your thigh. You were exposed to the room, legs spread as you laid on your side and Lane pumped into you from behind. You saw his fingers digging into the fat of your thigh, thicker and stronger than you expected. “Wanna see you… wanna kiss, my mate.”

He had easier, deeper access now that he raised your leg, spreading your cheeks and hole wider, letting him fill and feel you at an ecstatic angle. You could hear him moving in and out, feel the sweat dripping down your ankle, the thickness of his pre-cum in trickles. It was a different sensation compared to the thin, stickiness of your arousal. 

You turned to glare at him, biting down on your lip to prevent from marking him. 

But Lane kissed you anyway with the same wet, feverish, tongued attempt that he had always prayed for. It was no easy feat to stop him from sucking on your tongue, from jutting himself over and over inside of you, with wilted moans growing in volume at your taste.

Your orgasm was on the rise, Lane’s own having just passed as he came with ropes, coating the base of your cervix. And yet, he didn’t stop-- desperate to watch you come, to force you to be bonded with him. 

You ripped from his begging mouth, twisting as far behind you as you could to bite at his cheek, using him as your personal chew toy. Lane leaned against you, accepting it with a blissed-out gape. He could take this pain, could handle coming down from his ecstasy to service you. He would steal your kindness, your rage, your sadism-- and it would be his, and his alone to feel. 

Being inside of you was heaven enough, he could take being dragged into hell with you too. Even when you finished-- when he went limp and your mixed arousal began to dry, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to pull out of you. He wanted to stay inside your warmth, to be intertwined and conjoined with you for as long as possible. You had marked him, had sealed your fate as soon as he thrusted himself in to the hilt.

You’d have to pry him away before he let you go tonight. And you’d never, be able to keep him farther than an arms distance, forever. 

[ebonyslasher]

Hello! Hru? I love ur blog soo muchh♡ may I request human! Reader (from Kagome's world) who's really strong? Like the reader surprised the Inuyasha men (inuyasha, naraku and sesshomaru:> if you're not comfortable with these you can always change!) When a demon tried to attack her & the men tried to save reader but stop when they see her beating the demon up with bare hands or with a weapon she found brutally💀😭 And they just stood there dumbfounded like how tf🧍‍♂️? And when they ask how is she so strong, reader just shrugs and goes like "martial arts?"

Thank you and feel free to use any pronounces! I just wanna read sumn for once that doesn't have weak reader pls I'm so tired 💀💀

Hey anon! Sorry this is so late. I do agree with you on the last part. I'm tired of the weak reader all the time too. People gotta switch it up you know?

Strong ass Human!Reader in the Feudal Era with Inuyasha, Sesshomaru, and Naraku:

Inuyasha:

Reveling in the heroism of saving a nearby village, the group started their journey elsewhere. Trekking through the forest, your rag-tag group ran into a boisterous pig yokai. Who, unfortunately, became smitten with your looks.

"I will have you as my bride. And we can make all the hanyou I want!"

Ew. The initial response was to ignore the pig. There've been many demons who would bother the group. And, after the fight you all came from, you just wanted to make camp. Inuyasha grumbled a quick, "Piss off," as the group passes by.

But, it seemed that the Pig was serious about his stupid claim. He bares his teeth and shoots forward at you, grabbing your legs. World tipping over, your head thumps against a patch of lush grass. How lucky. However, you felt a strong pull on your leg, dragging your body away from your friends.

Hell fuck no! In the midst of the dragging, your bag was in the perfect position to grab easily. With how quickly things happened, Inuyasha jumpstarts to save you. You grab the bulky hammer in your bag, hiding it from view.

The pig yokai guffaws and throws you over his shoulder. "When I see someone worthy of being a bride, it's my right to claim-OOUGH"

One hit to the dome scratched some skin off and left his brain to rattle. "WHAT THE-." The next swing made contact with his cheek, sending sanguine liquid onto the ground. The pig stood there shocked, with blood leaking from his mouth.

He gets angry and charges at you, again. This time, he wouldn't get you. Grounding yourself, you kick him back, which sends him flying back a few feet. Taking charge, you jump and start to gruesomely work on his head with the hammer.

"What da HELL!!! Y/N!!!" Inuyasha yells. He's totally flabbergasted. His eyes and mouth are so wide, it's comical. There's the desire to step in and protect you, but it's so impressed how strong and ferocious those swings were. Inuyasha didn't want to interrupt. It was kind of hot.

Although, Inuyasha is a little peeved that you didn't let him know how strong you were. The way you sent him back with that kick was unexpected. He starts cheering you on.

"Way to go Y/N!" He's standing there smiling with his hands on his hips. Once the beast was knocked out (or dead, who cares). You turn back to head to the group.

"Y/n that was so cool! When the hell did you get so strong?"

"Uhhhh....fighting with my cousins growing up?" You shrugged. "I just want to go lay down, can we hurry up and make camp somewhere?"

Now, he's wondering what type of humans your cousins are.

2. Sesshomaru

This is one of the worst fears you had. Spiders. In your time, you could easily avoid an encounter with one of these wretched creatures. Modern houses and bug repellents helped tremendously. Not going out into nature and definitely NOT living in Australia did too. Since you've traveled back to the feudal era and were forced to interact with nature, your luck has been tested. And it just ran out today.

A fucking spider demon appeared. It was grotesque, smelly, and an abomination. And it was big too. It wanted to attempt to best Lord Sesshomaru in battle. Sesshomaru, of course, refuses. So, the dumb thing tries to shoot webs at you. Thankfully you dodged.

The hate for spiders took over your body. The fear you had compounded on top of that, making you scarier than the demon. It tries to stick its hairy and pointy leg through you, but you were quicker. With desperate and angered bare hands, you tore off its leg.

The spider yokai shouts in pain. Taking advantage of it's pause, you quickly tear off each limb. One by one.

Sesshomaru, in all his glory, stands there and says nothing. Does nothing. It really doesn't look like he's reacting but he is. The Demon Lord is extremely surprised that he's tense. His eyes are wide. Only thing that's slack is his hands.

The dagger in your side pouch begs to be utilized. It's appeased by you yanking it out and stabbing the yokai in one of it's many eyes. The screams, the power, and the needed imagery of you decimating this spider was iconic.

To Sesshomaru, it was obvious you were untrained. The ferocity of your actions cover it well. He's impressed and takes mental note to start training you. Maybe, have you be a little more graceful with your movements.

"This one had no indication of the strength you hold." Sesshomaru states.

".......I just really fucking hate spiders." you sardonically reply.

"...Hn. Noted. This one concurs with your sentiment."

Silently, he is pleased with this discovery. A small smile graces his face after you turn away

3. Naraku

Narakus' lower demons were soooo annoying. Their existence was one that irritated you. Irritating when they sucked dick to Naraku and when they tried to be condescending towards you. Just because you were human. The audacity sent you over the edge.

The edge it sent you over was one close by. One of those things became unruly in your presence. Acting as it was better than you, the ugliness of it all. The decision to put it back in its place was swift and malicious. An example to others who felt the same.

Precise, your hand shoots out to grab the lowly yokai. Chucking it, the demon bashes against a nearby rock. It's body twitches on the ground, confused on what just occurred. Slowly, you walk over. With no urgency or care. It felt like you were Michael Myers in that moment. Once you made it over, you stare before stomping it. One more. And again. Again. Again. AGAIN. AGAIN. Until there was a crater in the dirt it crumpled in.

Naraku, some distance away, observed the scene with shocked eyes, his mouth slightly open. "This human...!"

He is pissed that you hid this information from him. And how did he miss this? He frequently spied on you, sent his wasps when he couldn't make a puppet! But now that he knows....you can be of use for him. You're a bit too....alluring to be considered a lackey, but he needed to have control over you somehow. A sly grin graces his face upon observing the aftermath. The squished gruel of guts and blood staining the ground and your shoes.

He approaches, with a questioning stare. "Y/n...pray tell, how did you aquire this power?"

"Oh, my parents had me do martial arts since I was a kid. Plus, I was angry."

All Naraku can think is how nice it was of your parents to prepare you for him and his deeds.

[the-music-maniac]

I just saw a take on zosan that was awful enough I had to block the person. They labelled their post "hot takes" and it annoyed me enough that I felt like hating on it from afar in a vague way would be less destructive than writing an entire essay in this person's comments section.

If you like treating Sanji like a babygirl - just say so. Nothing wrong with that. Don't act like uke-ifying him is accurate to his canon characterization though. If you don't like Zoro as a character, just SAY THAT. Don't act like your shitty understanding of him as a character should be common sense. Their premise was that zosan would work best as a non sexual relationship - sure I'm fine with that. Sounds like an interesting premise. Why tho?

The reasons were stupid.

1. Apparently bc Zoro is too much of a neanderthal and BC he doesn't shower frequently Sanji would never touch him blah blah (Sanji smokes ten million cigarettes a day, I assure you he doesn't smell good) y'all should stop treating him like a babygirl bc bleh Zoro stinky and likes drinking and where did that whole he's Nami's gay best friend thing come from, he isn't that, he doesn't deserve it. Okay??? First of all - last I checked babygirl didn't require certain qualifications - so fuck off? I've concluded that Zoro is the only babygirl and you can foam at the mouth all you want, I'm not changing my mind. Second of all, did you forget that NAMI can drink people under the table too?? Zoro does canonically have a very friendship/sibling-like dynamic with Nami. They argue and fight, but they care about each other. If there is anyone who would make sense as a headcanon of one of Nami's close friends? Zoro would be a candidate. Usopp I would argue would be a better option, but Zoro also makes sense. Third of all, Sanji spends all day cooking (often cooking SEAFOOD) in a three piece suit and then smoking like a chimney. He may shower more frequently than Zoro but I assure you he doesn't smell like a rose garden either. You also can't be a cook if you shy away from a little elbow grease and sweat. Getting dirty for your craft is something he understands. He also has atrocious fashion sense when it comes to clothes that are not suits and he's a lil crazy in the same way all the strawhats are but he hides it well. Sanji is a ridiculous man and I like him that way. Stop it.

2. Sanji isn't some fainting flower, and it annoys me that this person was trying to paint him that way as if it's a forgone conclusion. Their argument was that he screams at bugs, and they were using it as an argument on why Sanji is apparently a babygirl who could never top anyone (why in the world does sex position even play a factor here??). They also pinpointed that Sanji wears suits and swoons at women as a reason why he's likely not gonna top anyone and is gonna remain a virgin. Admittedly I stopped reading at that point bc I made the executive decision to block the person for my own peace of mind, so I perhaps misunderstood (I barely understood the argument in the first place) but I still don't see how any of these factors have anything to do with sex position, or a sexual relationship not working with zosan. I'm all for asexual zosan. But y'all need to stop treating Sanji like some frail twink. That man is badass. He has a strong enough kick to kill a man, his leg catches on fire, he can fucking fly, he gives as good as he gets when it comes to his interactions with Zoro, he survived years and years of abuse from his family and came out a kindhearted person with principles. He is strong af. Again. STOP. IT.

3. None of those reasons for why they wouldn't have sex make sense to me because they operate under an assumption that Sanji would find Zoro gross so obvi they wouldn't have sex. The person fundamentally misunderstood that most people who like zosan aren't there bc they want smut, they're there because Zoro and Sanji are equal and opposites and they understand each other in a very fundamental way from the moment they met. Yes, their relationship is antagonistic, but in the way that Brogy and Dorry are set up in that one episode. If you understand that, then you get that when it comes to rivals, when it comes to their competition and their interactions with each other, Sanji wouldn't give a shit about avoiding getting his hands dirty. That is not the type of person he is. Zoro is his one exception in that sense. He has etiquette and acts like a refined gentleman, and then Zoro issues a challenge and Sanji is there, IMMEDIATELY ready and willing to throw down. He swoons over women, Zoro says anything and IMMEDIATELY Sanji's attention is all on Zoro. I have to wonder if this person even fucking watched the show before deciding to pass a bunch of unfounded judgements.

Alright, rant done.

[baenyth]

We need more Danganronpa characters as evil groups, but not the Ultimate Despair or its remnants. Too abstract. Too bland. Fuck despair. Fuck Junko. I'm either killing her off or she doesn't exist. Danganronpa villain groups completely distanced from the Ultimate Despair:

Makoto Naegi is the charismatic head of a dictatorship. Perhaps he believes this is what's best for the world. Or he just wants a throne to sit on. This is an alternative timeline, maybe he's evil here. Either way, he managed to rope in his 14 other classmates into joining him in his empire. Byakuya uses the Togami Corporation to clench Makoto's rule and fund projects wherever he can. He's also a consultant, alongside Yasuhiro Hagakure. Kyoko Kirigiri is the head of the espionage department, with Chihiro as the second-in-command and head of data management. Kiyotaka manages the police force, acting as judge, jury, and executioner. Mondo, Sakura, Aoi, and Mukuro all work in Makoto's army. Sayaka, Leon, Hifumi, and Toko work in the entertainment (or in other words, propaganda,) division. Genocider is allowed to kill any pretty boys the espionage department lets her. Celestia rules over her own chunk of land as gothic lolita queen and is arguably the loosest link, but ultimately still abides by Makoto's laws.

The Danganronpa V3 cast has been corrupted into animalistic monsters, think Steven Universe. Gonta's body has been converted into a flying hive for all manner of bugs, all sorts of flyers coming from his eyesockets and mouth carrying centipedes, spiders, and other flightless bugs so they all can feed and bring food back to the husk that was once a gentleman. Kirumi now resembles a marble statue with a blindfold over her eyes and a clock on her backside, where her four arms and four legs move in orderly, yet seemingly random fashions. If you come across her, you have to play a game of following her increasingly complex commands, often akin to a game of Simon Says, or risk searing throbbing pain. Kiibo is one of the more threatening ones. With his body inorganic and unable to be distorted like the others, his mind was merely warped into malware that can possess anything with a computer inside it. This includes cell phones, calculators, thermostats, cars with built-in GPSes and cameras, etc. His body, the source of the malware, is still unknown. A two-faced gorgon obsessed with creating rudimentary-yet-effective deathtraps. A gorgeous and colorful false angel. A blob of goo that somehow knows how to use various machinery. Perhaps the three survivors are akin to the Crystal Gems here, survivors in a different sense here, the ones fighting their former friends for the sake of everyone else.

Ruruka Ando as the queen of what is essentially candyland, with Sonosuke Izayoi as her knight in sweet, delicious, and surprisingly durable armor. All citizens in her expanding country are given free sweets to devour, and those who don't are punished for their insolence.

Finally, the cast of Super Danganronpa 2 are a team of mercenaries. Evil goons for hire, as that's what they've been typecast as at this point. Maybe life has just been really harsh on them and NezumiVA was right. Or maybe this is similar to canon, where they got puppeted into evil and were eventually freed, only to annihilate their reputation by continuing to pose as villains, effectively pigeonholing themselves into evil from society's eyes. As for what they could do: Kazuichi could build a robotic army or just machines for the lower mooks to ride on. Sonia, Fuyuhiko, and Twogami could all rule conquered provinces in the empire. Nekomaru could command minions while Akane and Peko act as elite troops. Ibuki could too, considering the lethality of her music, or she could act in espionage alongside Mahiru and Hiyoko, considering her hearing skills. Gundham could add various animals to the armada. Teruteru can produce food for the army. Mikan is literally a medic. Izuru Kamakura lives on, and is the Ultimate Ultimate. Possibly even more, considering the timeline. Nagito Komaeda is the equivalent of one of those really small cylinders of play-doh that are wider than they are tall. I can't imagine Chiaki being in the group, however. Either way, I can imagine this quirky miniboss squad having various unique interactions with our heroes, whoever they may be. I'd imagine Nekomaru would befriend the heroes in an odd way, being supportive of their strength and a fair fighter despite being on the villain's side, while Teruteru would repulse our heroes for being a sexual harasser, for example.

Also @goshdangronpa I want you to look at this, girlie. Read it all. Soak it up.

[liveontelevision]

Little Lucifer x Reader blurb that's been sitting in my drafts for like 2 weeks my bad yall

♡♡♡

"You know, it's a little embarrassing, I actually had a crush on you when I first came to the hotel." You try to laugh it off, giggling between the lines of a ludicrous thought.

A crush?

On the King of Hell?

I mean, come on.

Oh, but he had to bite his tongue. Hard. He needed to play it off just like you were. By the time he had processed the information, your back was facing him, already engaged in some other conversation with Angel Dust.

You treated it like just a passing thought, a little qwip to make your friends laugh. But that's not what really bugged Lucifer. No, it was the past tense of it all. What could've turned your feelings rotten? Were you so sure that nothing could happen? That it wasn't even a possibility? Why did those feelings vanish?

What did I do wrong?

"You're gonna catch a fly, your majesty!" An accent accompanies the phrase that finally snaps him out of his fog. Angel Dust sends you and the bartender into a little fit of snickers.

He was in fact sitting mouth open, eyes wide. He was hoping he could play it off by simply not mentioning it allowed, but his body betrayed him. He let his thoughts run over the arrogance he should've been feeling- as the sin of pride- so he goes with that.

"Of course, you had a crush on me! I'm The King of Hell, I'm sure all that power can be quite alluring. And my smile, obviously." His daring smirk he holds slowly fades when he hears a scoff passing your lips.

"Yeah, obviously." You roll your eyes at his words, leaning against the counter. Your nonchalant demeanor seems to make Lucifer shrink. "But, no, really.. it was, uh... your sense of humor, and how flustered you'd get around Alastor- you'd get so red in the face," you're still laughing through your words, not noticing the shine in Lucifer's eyes just from the sound of it.

"And just.. you care so much, you know? About Charlie and the hotel, even those little ducks.. You put your heart into everything, and it shows." Lucifer swears the room had disapated around the two of you. With a flushed face, mostly due to the drinks - you'd never be so bold while sober - you're smiling at him so sweetly, he could get lost in just the way your lips curl. How your eyes squint and how your cheeks puff just a little when you fully grin.

A snort snaps both of you out of it.

"So, you like how he's a dad, huh? Is that it? Got a thing for dilfs-" You immediately push Angel from his stool as he starts yapping about some modern lingo Lucifer doesn't quite understand.

"What's that now?" Lucifer cocks his head to the side, watching you scramble and wrestle your hand over Angel's mouth.

"Nothing!" You blurt out quickly.

Moving on!

"B-But yeah, it's not a big deal, It was just a little crush. Besides, you're like a 10,000 year old angel, a king. Plus, I saw your ring-" Damn it. He finds himself placing his right hand overtop his left. "-and that kind of helped me get over it faster.. no harm, no foul!" You finish quickly.

"Well, we're not exactly together anymore." He said those words so fast that it brings everyone's attention to him. The thought of some newfound gossip drew Angel in, but the idea that Lucifer might be correcting you? That he's trying to argue the reasoning you gave as to why you can't like him? You feel your breath start to shallow.

"No shit! Got some marital problems with queenie? Give us the deets, your highness!" Angel is leaning on the back of his hands, eagerly awaiting the beans that Lucifer was apparently meant to spill. He looks around the lobby before sighing and tapping his finger absentmindedly. His claw against the metal wedding band makes a quiet tick-tick-ticking.

"O-Oh jeez.. uh..." before he can fret any further, the sensation of a warm palm overtop his fidgeting hands brings him a sense of dread and relief.

"You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to." You speak softly, aiming to sooth and also give a little privacy from the nosy guest behind you. And while he appreciates your sincerity, he needs you to understand.

"No no, I brought it up in the first place. But, uh.. you know, we've been together since Eden and 10,000 years is a long time. So.. we just drifted apart.. and sometimes..." Lucifer's eyes drop with his hesitant words. You weren't sure if he was reminiscing of fond times or regretting them with the face he was making. But then, his eyes come up to meet yours.

"Sometimes, people change."

[simp999]

Medic x Reader - The Red Means I Love You

Wc: 2.7k

Themes: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort(reader was feeling down beforehand)

A/N: I really haven't been writing huh,, sorry about that, guys!! I've been real busy with work n' other stuff- but I promise I still love seeing your ideas! I can't promise I'll get to them, but I still enjoy seeing them :3

Taglist: @electro-omen @skeleton-stomper-xoxo @moopy-milk @pillow-14 @emotionallyunwellmedic

Masterlist

Optional Playlist!!:

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Not again.

It's always that damned static that manages to hum itself back into your ears; almost romantically. The idea sounds so beautifully comforting; lovingly pulling you away from reality, holding you in a close embrace.

It sounds so much nicer in thought than in practice.

But as much as you can't help but zone in and out, every sound around you feels so loud yet hushed at the same time. The buzzing of the lights, the crickets outside, at one point you think you may have heard someone walk past your room to go to the kitchen, but it was just one sound among many.

You sat alone in your bed, staring blankly ahead. You couldn't make out what you were staring at, nor did you care. - It was all just a blurry mess.

But you needed a distraction. You knew that if you were to be left alone it would only get worse.

And suddenly, you were standing in front of Medic's lab. You didn't remember the slow journey there. Maybe you've walked the path so many times that you went on autopilot? That doesn't matter right now.

You can hear footsteps from inside, and a soft, muffled voice. You can't quite make out the words, but with his tone, you can assume that he's talking with his birds.

You reach out for the door handle, hesitating. Did you really need to go bug him? You'll get over it, you're sure.

What exactly is it that your body needed? You shuffled through a short list of things. You ate earlier, drank water, you got an... okay amount of sleep. Well, more than usual- which is a start.

You just needed to be in someone's presence, you think.

But not just anyone, you're sure that someone like Scout would be too energetic, and Soldier would be too loud.

You always end up right back here, don't you? Maybe it's because you feel comfortable around him? You couldn't be too sure.

You lightly shake your head, your vision continuing to stay just a bit more blurry than usual. With the blurred shapes that you know spell "laboratory" in front of you, you finally crack the door open a smidge. Then some more.

Medic was standing in front of his doves, holding his bloody finger up to Archimedes. You're assuming he'd just given him a piece of meat or maybe he was petting him. In the middle of the action, Medic tilts his head your way, opening his mouth for a greeting-but deciding against it when he does a quick once-over of your tired form. Though, a gentle smile does make its way on his face.

You slowly hobble over to an empty counter, ignoring the chair stacked with a lab coat and papers, hopping up on said countertop. You stare ahead at the body on Medic's operating table. You haphazardly analysed it. It sat lifeless, it seems it'd been that way for a while now. Well, at least you knew you and him were truly alone.

You leaned back, letting your arms hold you up. Medic silently went back to his spot beside the corpse, picking up a scalpel with a soft smile. He began to hum. You'd be lying if you said you didn't find it comforting. The buzzing of the lights surely didn't leave, but they felt less overbearing. It was also late, and Medic rarely had all of the lights on at this time, only keeping the one main one he needed for seeing the corpse with.

He could tell something was up, but he didn't want to pry- though it was nagging at him. Perhaps Archimedes could tell, or maybe it was pure luck- or maybe Archimedes saw you as someone to care for too. Soon enough he was carefully flying towards you, gently landing on your shoulder and rubbing his head up against your cheek. It became tough to hold back a small smile, and you relaxed your shoulders. You gently brought up a knuckle to very carefully pet him with. Along with whispering little nothings- most of which Medic couldn't make out, only sometimes hearing his own name.

He couldn't help but admire the sight before him. It's a good thing that the corpse in front of him was indeed just that- a corpse- or else dropping the scalpel in it probably wouldn't have been too good.

"..Hey,"

He snaps back to reality, his face warming up just a bit at how you caught him dazed- one could even say with a somewhat lovestruck expression. You weren't about to point that out though, were you?

"Why'd you stop humming?"

He.. he was humming? No- well, yes he does tend to do that a lot while working to busy himself, but you noticed? His eyes widened a bit. It's not exactly a conscious thing he does- and it doesn't help that now that he's put on the spot he can't quite come up with anything to hum.

So, he carefully sets down whatever tool he was holding and quietly makes his way over to the music player. You recognized the first song as "Bust Your Kneecaps". You giggled at how fitting it seemed to suit him. The song was so calming but morbid at the same time. He carefully adjusts the volume and begins to sway his hips as he once again as he works on the corpse in front of him. The music player sounds a bit staticky, but the music was still enjoyable.

And now it was your turn to admire him.

He sure was skilled at what he did. Even with music playing and him obviously focused on the sounds surrounding him, he nonchalantly makes such precise and careful incisions. The soft smile on his face, and the way his hair was a bit messier than usual- a given after a long day of battles. You caught the way he'd absentmindedly twirl the scalpel between his fingers before deciding where to place his next incision. The blood coating his gloves glistened,- hey, that's odd, he very rarely wore his gloves while working. May he knew you'd-? No, no, you doubted it.

You noticed the way he had a small pep in his step whenever he had to walk around- it seems his boots may be newly polished, too. His voice when he hummed or softly sang any lyrics was always so comforting too. So much so that you'd absentmindedly join in on the humming at times if you knew the song.

Which is what happened. You only noticed that your soft hums could be heard as well when you caught the way his smile grew and he glanced over at you with hope in his eyes. It was always reassuring to him when you'd slowly warm back up in the subtlest of ways. Of course he knew when you weren't doing too well, and he was always glad to help you out. Honoured, even. It made his heart warm knowing that he was your go-to person to feel comfortable and safe again, even if it just meant being in the same room as him.

It means you willingly trust him. Yes of course, people trust him with their wounds in life or death situations- but they have no choice. Yet you come to him for the most mundane of things.

He must admit, he might be catching feelings.

And there wasn't any major event that caused him to realise this- no. Actually, it was something quite small that you'd done many times before.

This must've been roughly a month ago now; he was sat at his desk, his pencil going back and forth over some paperwork at ungodly hours of the morning. Everyone at the base should have been asleep, but he should have known better as mercenaries. None of you were normal- but you all still needed rest.

Which is why he was surprised when he heard soft footsteps slowly approach him. He recognized them, of course- had he not, he would have been reaching for his bonesaw.

Your presence alone relaxed him. But then he remembered how late it was, and was about the question you on why you might be up at this hour- damn hypocrite.

But before he could, there was a small plate with snacks being placed beside his paperwork, and a hand giving his closest shoulder a small, absentminded massage.

Then, you stood behind him, slowly snaked your arms around his shoulders and slowly leaned against him- almost all of your weight. You rested your chin on top of his head and you hadn't said a word.

This meant two things: one, that you had finally accepted that you simply couldn't tell him to get to bed because it would never work, to which you had adapted. Second, you were up at this ungodly time, and the first thing on your mind was taking care of him.

The thought of asking you why you were up at this hour left his mind, instead opting to let you watch whatever he was working on. Well, as much as you could with your eyes half-lidded, sometimes closing on you.

Every so often, he'd grab a piece of the snack you had brought him. One time, he brought a piece to your lips, and you lazily ate it with a hum. From that point on, he'd eat a piece, then offer you one. Then, because he was so entranced in his work, he had forgotten about the snack. Until you gently brought a piece in front of his mouth, still wanting to take care of him.

"...You don't have to do this, you know."

You gently shook your head, leaning a bit more on him and giving him a gentle squeeze, which was enough of an answer.

And yes, he did notice the way you'd begin to lose your balance due to how tired you were. He himself would lean just enough to keep you upright when he could tell you were beginning to doze off.

That was the first night you managed to get him to go to sleep early- and that was without a single word spoken by you.

That was the night he learned he may have feelings for you. He felt a growing urge to care for you; in subtle and non-subtle ways. Of course- the mercs could tell that he'd slowly become more of a pocket Medic, that much was obvious. But he'd also watch out for you in ways he knew how to. He'd make sure to give you a proper dose of anaesthesia, always be gentle when he did anything involving you, clean his lab and equipment thoroughly before even thinking about using any on you. He never thought too much of it, either.

You began living in his presence more often too, and he appreciated it so very much- he'd never brought it up, but he did care. There were a few times where you'd swing by and he'd offered you a snack; or if you were cold, he'd offer you his labcoat.

Then he realised that he became happy when you were happy.

He never thought of himself as an empath- far from it, really. But suddenly when your mood was down, he'd find himself alone in his lab, doing what he always does. It felt like he was on autopilot, and he felt dull. But when your mood was better and you were more excitable- or even simply happier overall, he'd hum more often, and he wouldn't notice the smile that seemed to constantly spread across his lips, nor the pep in his step.

Which brings us to the present moment. You two humming along to the song. It slowly drowned out, and a new song came on, You recognized it as: "The Red Means I Love you."

Medic's lips curled up a bit, and you gently kicked your feet, his seemingly happy mood becoming contagious. You were still somewhat zoned out, now accidentally staring off into space, which just so happened to be his boots this time. And suddenly, they were right in front of you, along with an open hand blocking the view- hey, when did he remove his glove? It just have been just now, as it wasn't bloody.

You looked up to him and recognized the expectant gaze he sent your way. That warm smile on his face was what convinced you to take his hand, and he carefully guided you around with small steps.

He hummed as he gently placed a hand on the small of your back, and held your hand in his as if it were made of glass.

Once you two began moving a little quicker, he began to sing. He started out in a very quiet tone as to not startle you;

"'Cause my insides are red,

And yours are too.

And the red on my face

Is matching you~"

The two of you continued to sway along to the music, slowly becoming more comfortable, but keeping the volume low. The two of you were tired but content. Then, the reoccurring line in the song came up, and the two of you sang it together in hushed voices;

"The red means I love you~"

You couldn't help the small smile that slowly played on your lips, his was contagious. He offered you a wide grin when he noticed you looking up at him, but it quickly went back to a small, calm, and reassuring one once your eyes were elsewhere. One could even say lovestruck. Paired with a gaze that was admiring every part of you, simply glad to be right there, right now, with you. He'd take lives to be able to do this at any given time- there was nothing more perfect to him than this.

You looked so perfect to him in this very moment. Even the dishevelled hair, darkened eye bags, and slumped shoulders were to be admired. Any imperfections of your skin he found absolutely stunning- they made you unique. But with his background, he's pretty sure that telling you you had fascinating skin wouldn't come off the way he'd hoped- so he'd keep that to himself.

He longed to gently card his fingers through your messy hair, run his finger from your hair to behind your ear, along your jaw and finally tilt your chin up and admire your eyes with the warmest, most loving smile he's ever worn. To pull you a bit closer with the hand that was still resting against the small of your back, with barely any force to be noticeable.

And then he'd lean down, analyse your face for whatever emotions you may be feeling and go from there.

Now, he wasn't a shy man.

So that's what he did.

And that's where the two of you now stand.

After analysing your emotions, checking for any sort of discomfort- he tilted your chin up just enough for you and him to meet halfway.

It was a small kiss- short, sweet and loving. It could even be considered a small peck. There was nothing more to be added, enough was said- even if the only words spoken aloud tonight were mostly just lyrics.

You stood a little stunned, but that was only because you weren't quite ready to fully comprehend what had just happened.

Medic on the other hand was already pulling you into a gentle hug that had the both of you calmly swaying back and forth as he played with your hair. He gave you a small kiss on the crown of your head as you finally relaxed into him, and allowed your hands to rest on his back. Barely audible, he muttered;

"I love you, liebchen."

A gentle squeeze was offered that reassured him that you felt the same way, and you could feel his smile widen before opting to rest his chin on your head, and gently rest his hand on the back of your neck, caressing the base of it with his thumb as the two of you continued to sway together.

He looked forward to more nights like this. Nothing extravagant, just you and him, comfortable in eachother's loving presence.

.

.

.

Nov.10.23

[sky-kiss]

Okay I had a thought and you can do with it whatever you want... but Raphael speaking infernal is so underrated. Even in game when he casts spells during battle, he doesn't really verbally say anything which is a shame (but is kinda cool if certain beings are powerful enough to cast nonverbally. Either that or my game is hella bugged). When you had that moment in your latest chapter of him speaking infernal to transform that made me 😳Like the way it'd described of being this harsh language and Raphael speaking it just snapped some part of my brain and I'd imagine it'd do something for Joi/Tav too. Like would Raphael still somehow make it sound beautiful (to quote Mamzelle, "a voice that could make the foulest blasphemy seem the sweetest hymn" or it would he still sound harsh but it's still hot because it's flying out of THAT mouth?

__________

A/N: There’s an actor I used to adore who was German, but often spoke a lot of french. So his German would come out with that gentle French lilt. Gonna channel that.

__________

He comes to her in the evening, this devil she loves, and the scent of cherries, sulfur, and musk hangs about him like a shroud. Raphael prowls about her suite like some great cat, his dark head held high. In the hells, his hellfire eyes will light with their inner fire. On the prime material, he’s softer. Warm brown, a touch of honey, almost sweet enough to make her forget. 

“You’re late,” she says. 

He hums lowly. The natural theatricality of the noise does not rob it of its power; Tav shivers. The devil sees; he knows. He always knows. “Ah, but there is such beauty in anticipation, wouldn’t you agree? Desire honed to a knife’s point.” A turn of his right hand, long-fingered and elegant. “Before one tips over the edge.” 

It’s a fine enough point in principle, but less appealing in reality. Their time is short, limited to stolen moments when their schedules align. She has a city to rebuild. He has the lower planes to conquer. 

Her devil smiles, patronizing. “If you feel neglected, mouse, I have already proposed a solution. You’ve only to accept the offered hand.” 

“Join you in Hell?” He nods, eyes wide and lovely. It strikes her that he has cultivated every aspect of this human skin: the smile is so wide, so open, and so nakedly suffused with guile that it wraps back around to innocence. 

Raphael steps close. The scent again: cherries, sweet and delicate. Her devil, wearing sweetness and silk to hide his uglier underbelly. He brushes the fringe of her hair back from her cheek, touch lingering. “Deny me all you like, pet. It shall make the eventual fall all the sweeter.”

Anticipation. Tav shivers. 

Some nights, they fuck in front of the fireplace or on the chaise. Never in the bed. It’s her stipulation. Raphael crinkles his nose at the coarse language and indelicacy of the location. She deserves better, he says. The phrase always comes with an accompanying hand gesture, as if he's framing her for a portrait. Something pretty he can lock away from the world, point at when he wants to feel superior. Admire his wealth, this wild adventurer he’s collared. 

Most nights, they work. Tav shuffles through requisition orders. Raphael amends his contracts. She watches him work, more often than not, gaze flicking across the elegant script. It burns, and there’s an undeniable elegance to the infernal ruins. Tav reaches out to race a line, mouthing the words. She’s out of practice. Infernal is not a pretty language; it fits particularly poorly in her untrained tongue. Raphael rests his chin in his palm, amused by her attempt. 

“Allow me.” 

The devil repeats the phrase. It may as well be a different language. The words drip off his tongue, the harshness erased in favor of a lilting cadence. Tav chews the inside of her cheek, brow furrowed. “Is that…is it a regional dialect? Something distinct to Cania?” 

“In all likelihood, you’ve only heard the lower dialects. The least baatezu are harsh and guttural. The higher speech has a grace to it, provided one is willing to learn. It is a melody, dark and heady as any wine.” Raphael places his hand, palm up, on the table. “Allow me.” Tav sets her hand in his. “Close your eyes, pet.” 

She does. 

Raphael traces lines across her palm, humming to himself. “There are four tongues, sweetling. Lower, lowest, high, highest. For the sake of your sanity, we shall avoid the dialect of the archdevils. But the language of the courts might please you.” 

“And is there a reason my eyes must remain closed?” 

He chuckles, thumb pressing against the veins of her wrist. There is an awful note of potential in the touch; he could break the fragile bones with half a thought. “Feeling, Tav. Like the steps of the dance, it should fill you, move you.” 

She shivers as his fingers ghost up her forearm, featherlight nerve strokes. Raphael repeats the lines of infernal, his fingers drifting up on the mouth melodic stretches, dipping down when the words adopt a guttural edge. It is never grating, never clipped; some of that is exclusively him, years of experience and language marrying in a distinctive vocal pattern. Tav chews her lower lip. She’s too aware of his heat, pinpricks of warmth dancing across her skin as he plays his game.

It is beautiful and dark, and she feels the words on her skin. Raphael traces the runes. Her mind struggles to translate the higher dialect, flowing until it isn’t, succinct until double-meaning creeps into the terminology. Tav feels drunk in the darkness. 

“And now,” his voice is closer, spoken against the shell of his ear. The devil gathers her into his lap. He smiles into the curve of her throat. “The student demonstrates what she’s learned. Come, pet, impress me.” 

He traces the runes on her thighs. Over the skin of her belly. Between her breasts. And if she loses the thread, if her voice gives way, her devil stops. He’ll suck a bruise into her throat, press teeth until they threaten to breast skin, tease, tease, tease…

Anticipation, she thinks, that earlier word flitting across her awareness. 

And her devil is ever patient.

[zippidi-dooda]

Tired, but don't really want to sleep so here's some Bakugou my brain's come up with

While feeling entitled to it, younger Bakugou seems to get a kick out of pushing others around, always itching for a fight, grinning devilishly as the thoughts of the outcome fills his mind.

And he doesn't care who or what is on the receiving end of his insults or dangerous explosions.

Which is why most do one of two things: avoid him or suck up to him.

But what if he was met by someone else who loves the adrenaline high, who's excited to see what it'll take for someone else to bark back at them, to prove their worth?

He would not take it well.

He'd sneer at first when you'd retort those same "harmless" quips back at him with a smile on your face.

You didn't know who you were dealing with, that was all. But he'd be damned if he didn't make sure you knew him well after parting ways.

He wouldn't necessarily beat you up, no, he likes to scare people first. So he'd joke about what a pathetic waste of space you were, hands bursting and popping with light, letting the smoke flood the air, and tell you to get lost before you left with more than a broken confidence.

He thought that'd be the end of it.

As he turned to leave, already beginning to forget the encounter, he did not expect to hear you guffawing behind him, on the verge of tears, slamming a fist on the desk, and wheezing as if this was the funniest thing you had seen all day.

He'd snap at you, demanding to know what was so funny. And when you explained it was him and his whole egotistical deluded regime he was always showing off, he wasted no time snatching you up by the collar and slamming you into the wall.

He slew out insult after insult, slamming his fist beside your head, detonating a larger explosion that singed your hair, asking who you thought you were to go around acting all brave.

And he just about lost it when you laughed once more, egging him on to do more than just run his mouth without following through with his threatening demeanor.

His scowl grew deeper, his eyes dilating into pinpricks, and would have blasted you to kingdom come if Deku hadn't walked in just then annoying him even further with his dumb, whiny "KACCHAN!?" spewing whatever crap he had about being kind and shit.

From then on, you had begun to actively seek him out. And you went back and forth between goading each other, bumping shoulders in the hallways, throwing objects like papers or pens at each other consistently, sticking your feet out to trip the other when they passed by, flicking, pinching, tugging, shoving, and insulting each other day after day until school was over.

Katsuki had never wanted to wring your neck so badly and you were fearful yet enthralled at the idea of seeing the walking time bomb finally explode.

But the opportunity never came, much the the school's pleasure and safety.

Though because Katsuki never got the chance to let his rage out on you, poor Midoriya suffered even more of the brunt of his pent up anger.

You and Deku irritated the hell out of him.

And he couldn't wait until he got into UA, away from the both of you.

At least, that was what was supposed to happen, but both of you just had to ruin his life, didn't you?

Coming with him all the way to his dream school where he'd really start his journey to become the number one hero. You both were going to regret it heavily.

He had expectedyou to keep bugging him. You did, but not like you had originally.

You had stopped running into him, taunting him, and acknowledging him altogether. He didn't know why, but he did not like it at all.

You thought that since you were running in the big leagues now you were too good for him? That he wasn't worth even a glance or curt word from your mouth? Did you really think that he was so boring all of a sudden because of a simple change in setting?

That wasn't gonna fly with him.

And so, a new bout of one sided pushing and shoving began. He was always looming around you like nuclear storm, ready to unleash his rain of torment on you.

And hero training?

Being his partner was horrible and being his enemy was so much worse.

It got to the point where the teachers had to pull you aside for a chat.

You didn't want to end up in trouble or get kicked out of the school, so you took it upon yourself to wrangle him up for a chat.

You hadn't spoken a word to him then, simply grabbing his wrist and dragging him with you to a secluded little hall where most would never pass by.

And he grinned.

Finally you were coming back to your senses and the fight he had been itching to get over and done since middle school would Finally begin, quirks and all.

You stopped, releasing him. You turned to look at him with a steady face. Then ...

You apologized.

You apologized for your behavior back then, for pushing his buttons when there was no reason to, and for not clearing everything up sooner.

Needless to say, he was not prepared for that. He wasn't expecting it.

He stood still, looking at you through wide, confused, ruby eyes, wondering if he had heard you wrong.

Then you held your hand out to him, a small somewhat embarrassed smile on your face, and suggested a truce, "friends?"

Nothing was making sense anymore.

He scowled, smaking your hand away and barked out his refusal. He insulted you once more, backing up with each venomous word that dripped from his lips until he had to turn a corner and eventually out of sigh from you.

His world was slowly being broken down in front of him, bit by bit ever since arriving at UA. It was frustrating and complicated. He didn't need to add you to his troubles.

So, until he figured out a better way to deal with his emotions, he did what he does best and ignored the main issue, deciding to just take it out through training.

But that didn't stop the loud beating in his ribcage, heart pumping mad like a fighter in a match, or the burning red blush rushing to his cheeks. His stomach felt strange all of a sudden, as if an illness he had never felt before had just settled in.

You made him feel physically sick.

Should've just kept your mouth shut.

You were doing more than just irritating the hell out of him now.

And he'd make sure you'd regret ever starting what you had.

[morsking]

oberon is such a liar and a stubborn mule of a bug he does not realize nor allows himself to realize the truth in front of him that though chaldea should've been his sworn enemy he is gazing up at their departure from the abyss much like caster gazed upon the star she did not wish to betray. at the very end he yells from the abyss he'll wish them the very best because if he's a liar and nothing he says has meaning then he might as well just say whatever at this point knowing it doesn't matter... except that it does.

at the very end he's honest with himself about one thing: he's at peace. all hatred, all malice, all reason to lie and resent and kill has vanished. what comes out of his mouth in this moment is the truth. the truth that though he did hate all of life he still yearned to find love, and he wanted those he loved to live. his actions were all unrighteous and repugnant. everything he did was to lead every other idiot who'd believe him and his promises that they could come out on top by stepping over everyone else to their well-deserved deaths witnessing everything they hoped for crumbling into the pit oberon himself was.

but also, everything he did, he did because someone was wronged. because someone innocent was trampled. because someone who should've been real was buried and forgotten under a mountain of lies. isn't that awful? isn't that unfair? everyone who could save them had already tossed them aside. so he had to step up. even if he never asked to be born, even if his first breaths tore at his entire body, even if he was sick to his stomach from the moment he opened his eyes, he was still going to do it. he was still going to put an end to the suffering of the land, he was going to fulfill the sacred and abominable purpose given to him. he accomplished this with flying colors. truly, no one could've done a better job at it than him. nobody could ever have put the amount of thought and effort into destroying britain he did.

"oberon" accomplished what "vortigern" was born to do. but "vortigern" did not accomplish what "oberon" chose to do. his subjects were all dead. his friendships were all forsaken. and above all, he could never offer any respite to titania. the closest "vortigern" could do as "oberon" was be there every step of the way for another reject, whether it was the despised foreigner artoria, or the solitary fujimaru. though they were meant to be his mortal enemies, he too did not wish to deny them the destinies they fought tooth and nail to hold on to even if they had to tie their own guts to them to stay fastened to them. even if he was to kill them at the very end, he could not help but admire their resilience, their hard work, and even the repugnant selfish selflessness they used to shield themselves from their overwhelming pain. he wanted them to succeed beyond what their success enabled for his plans. though titania did not exist as a fairy named titania born to love oberon either in the lostworld or in proper human history, she did exist in the bonds he forged with his people, with blanca, with artoria, and with fujimaru. perhaps he could not turn the lie of titania's existence into the truth by killing the scriptwriter and their audience. but the idea of titania was still proven true in the form of the love and admiration even he in all his wretchedness wished to express.

the void exists to be filled. and for a brief moment, it was caressed by the kindest of lights.

[derww]

DAY 26: POWER

CW: Still crackfic

There is something wrong with Ashes bow now. This is, atleast, what he thinks after his arrow, shot by him as a joke, pierces through Pangi's shoulder.

– Oh, fuck! – Pangi is expectedly surprised. – What the fuck, man.

– Sorry, sorry, sorry, – Ash repeats again and again, and he's just saying words, but he actually has no idea how this had happened. – I didn't want to get you; look, its just a mistake; just take the arrow out and eat some gapples, – hes not coming closer, but he gestures artistically with his hands, making more noise about it, – i don't know, man, im sorry, okay-

– Accidentally hit someone with a bow, aiming in the right direction... – Pangi remarks skeptically, casually pulling out an arrow and stopping the flowing blood. – of course, man. Whatever you say. Whatever.

And, like- it's not like Ash was a pacifist or he had anything against hitting Pangi; no, hed gladly do it again just for the fun of it, but fucking arrow wasn't supposed to fly even close. He shot it to hit the no-spawnkills bell, but at the moment when he was not paying attention, the arrow somehow turned out to be two meters to the right, securing him an accurate hit. 

And it was freaking him out- like, new abilities always were good, but he'd prefer to KNOW ABOUT THEM AND HOW THEY WORK, thank you very much. He didn't like having a pig in a poke. This is, after all, an animal abuse.

He easily forgets about it. After all, he was a bug itself; some temporary anomaly of that kind was possible, even tho improbable. He still hated to have no idea what was happening, but it does not matter if you are convinced that the strangeness will go away, like, soon. He has better things to do, tho. Like sleeping and watching cartoons. His life literally depended on both of them. What could he say?

The next time it's yet another accident and it's Mapicc and he catches the arrow before it hits him.  

– And why the fuck would you do that, – Mapicc plainly asks, and Ash steps away.

– It is an accident! – he swears even tho his words are worth nothing again, – man, I'm really sorry, okay! Lets just go both of us our paths and-

In the end, he has to run. Like, he's cool and all, but he can't mess with Empire, okay? not without a plan, atleast. He has no time to create a plan for now. He has to look into all this bullshit that's been happening.

He drags Squiddo away with him, and they build a very messy training ground with a bunch of different targets. Squiddo tries first – she hits the biggest target, on the verge of the middle circle, which she actively rejoices at, and then crushingly misses everyone else. She whines that this game is too weird. Ash doesn't understand what game she's talking about, but it's his turn.

He's aiming, shooting – at the bull's eye! The next target is slightly smaller – a clear hit! A hit! A hit! A hit! 

When the turn comes to the last target, the smallest, almost the size of the yellow circle on the first, Ash rolls his eyes and shoots into the air. And then he and Squiddo watch, stunned, as the arrow makes a detour and incredibly hits the target  – not in the center, of course, but still in the red zone.

They look at each other in silence. Squiddo opens her mouth.

– Maybe it's because of that one versus-

They never talk about it ever again.

– Shut the fuck up.

[amaramizuki666]

Identity crisis part.2

Danny wasnt having a very good day, week, month, who knows time in the infinity realms has always been iffy. You see danny was recently crowned king of the realms, king of the dead, the balance between life and death, protected of the dead, holder of space, poor kid has a lot on his shoulders.

And now his council including frostbite, amber, and clockwork are suggesting him to marry. So danny can split the responsibility of being king.

Danny is flying to the far frozen when he hears it the call of being summoned. A faint wisper, the wish of those who summoned the ghost king, danny always had a choice weither to go, whether to listen to the whims of the mortals.

But before danny chose to be summoned or not, always depended on what he heard the wisper said. Danny stopped and floated in the green void of the realms. He closed his eyes and listened.

'𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒊𝒆, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒆𝒕, 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆'

Danny heard the wisper and emiditly let the summon take hold of him pulling him to the one summoning him. Danny opened his eyes to see he was surrounded by a thick ectoplasm like substance. It had the consistency of Elmer's glue and it burned Danny's skin.

Danny looked around himself with ergency trying to spot his summoner. He looked down and saw a kid around his age sinking to the bottom of this pit of green.

His hair was black danny thinks his eyes are blue but cant see them properly they are barely open. The boy looks lucid. But then again he does appear to be bleeding out and sinking in a bit of Lazarus goop sooo.

Danny floats down to the boy and speaks

"𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕞𝕖, 𝕀 𝕒𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕕, ℙ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕠𝕞. 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥".

The boys eyes fluttered. He tried to open his mouth only bubbles escaped but thankfully danny could hear him or more accurately his desire.

"𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆'

Danny could feel it in his core, the need to save the need to 卩尺ㄖㄒ乇匚ㄒ. But danny cant just do that no he is the king.

"𝕀 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝, 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕠𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕤𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕪𝕠𝕦" danny spoke.

The boys eyes finally drifted to him, holding Danny's gaze. '𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆' the boys heart sang.

Danny thought for a moment. This really was the perfect opportunity.

"𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕨𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕝, 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕝 𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖, 𝕕𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕡𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥" danny asks his voice soft yet powerful. The boy accepted.

Danny pulled the boy in ty I his arms. A green aroura not dissimilar to his crown glowed around them as the contract finalized.

This boy was now his. Danny reversed the summoning and brought both of them back to the realms.

Danny looked at the boy in his arms, he was becoming paler. Danny quickly set off for the far frozen. He had to see frost bite regardless. St least now he wont bug him about finding a partner.

_____________

Part 1

Part 3

[diamondchili]

despite not being very far into ooo i've seen ankh's full greeed form, and tbh i kinda hate it,, so i redesigned him!! feat. some doodles of him not clinically posed and symmetrical :p

character design is a true passion of mine, so i infodumped broke down my process below the cut!! do note i'm not approaching this as someone who would have to consider fight choreo and stunts and whatnot. just a disclaimer lol

id in alt text as always! <3

The thing i immediately hated was how human-like his face looked?? or at least his mouth. yuck. while i get wanting to set Ankh apart from the other greeeds, there's a difference between uniqueness and breaking the rules of design you've put in place for a set of characters. Uva, for instance, has a very bug-like face, whereas Mezool has almost no face thanks to the orca's mouth framing it. That means there's two major ways for a greeed's face to look, and i think where they went wrong was trying to do something entirely different for ankh.

i kindof get what they were going for by making the bird face frame Ankh's *real* face, but imo they added too much detail to both. if youre making the big face's mouth frame the actual face, don't give the actual face a mouth lol, it crowds the design too much and looks confusing. Plus, he's a suit character, he doesn't exactly need a mouth to talk from!! So for this redesign, i made both faces much more simple and gave the primary face a sortof stand-in mouth.

Next thing was the hair. why, why, WHY on EARTH does the hair on Ankh's full form not match the hair he gives the people he possesses?!?!?!? that was the first visual hint we get as to Ankh's full appearance when he changes Shingo's physical attributes upon possessing him, and when he possesses Eiji it does the same swoopy thing. so. i made my design have hair that does that. this is basic shit yall come on 😭

Then i saw the dinky lil drab half-cape they gave him and i said oh no. oh honey. this is a BIRD. you've Gotta give him more drama than that. i kept the black to break up the ocean of red in the design (and i'll admit it is still a little red-heavy up top), but since he is a bird-based character with a triad color scheme, i made the back of it have that gradient. the tatoba/traffic-light/analogous color pattern is repeated all over the suit in Ankh's canon design, and i did want to stick to that so he's still recognizable as the same character.

Speaking of sticking to canon, i actually think the chest piece and waist armor is the only thing i didn't majorly change. i simplified the color placement, but tbh that can be chocked up to the quick-and-dirty art style i did for this, i was mostly just feeling the design out. But i did include the gradients down the chest, again to break up the red. not sure if i like it if i'm 100% honest-- it doesn't quite line up the way i want. The only other thing i added here were the bird claw pauldrons, mostly to make him match Uva bc i LOVE Uva's weird bug leg pauldrons, and I love when design elements are repeated across different characters in unique ways. not sure if you can really see them under his fluffy feather cape, but oh well

I kept the thigh pieces fairly simple, omitting the green from the gradient as it's present on the loincloth-like piece just between them. For the kneepads, i repeated the flying bird motif on the iconic forearm armor, because it's such a fun element and is the first thing we see of Ankh, so i knew repeating it somewhere on the design was essential, even if it didnt match exactly. i see they did this on the canon design, but the shape was just too different to solidify it. it weirdly looks like a face? and again this isn't practical suit design-- i'm sure having kneepads in this shape would Not Work from a stunts standpoint.

Lastly, i don't have much to say about the shoepieces honestly? Aside from the fact that in Ankh's canon greeed form his bird claws more resemble owl feet. which. i guess isn't incorrect? they're still bird themed. just looks odd with the tropical bird everything else. So i just made them a bit daintier lol. kinda wish i'd kept the green painted nails tho, thats cute.

ANYWAYS if you read this far, thank you!! i love getting to analyze character design-- what works, what doesn't, all that!! so this was a lot of fun. whether you agree or disagree with my decisions, i hope you enjoyed seeing my art and reading my ramblings!! <3

[n0vaisnthere]

Blizzard winds + hat = crash out

Wanderer/Scaramouche x Reader

Summary —☆ You had an errand to run in Mondstadt, and dragged your favorite flier with you!

Contains —★ vulgar words, playful teasing

.・。.・゜✭・WRITTEN BY: vxxxvnii (email me for more direct contact!: vxnaly@gmail.com) 

A/N: wrote the DHIL one on the same day. Celestia helped me. (vulgarity used because I strongly believe that Wanderer would still have a potty mouth) this took 3 days [total] because I was procrastinating

What happened to all of those sunny warm days?! You could take a walk and you'd be fine, save for a few bug bites every once and a while and sneezing from pollen, but it was tolerable! Not this.. What..WINTER BLIZZARD. Winter really does come quickly. The temperature changes are too abrupt, and the weather just goes batshit crazy. At least that's how (Reader) feels.

Wanderer? He doesn't feel anything. Only the snow crunching and pivoting beneath his feet, but he ultimately feels nothing but annoyance at (Reader)’s complaining.

“It’s so cold!!!” (Reader) would whine, clutching onto their cloak that is wrapped around their shoulders. The two had just left Mondstadt for a quick visit.

Why was Wanderer with them? Because (Reader) kept bothering him to fly them there so they wouldn't have to walk. And he only agreed because he had no choice, or else they wouldn't shut up.

“Well whose fault is that?” Wanderer grumped as he held onto the front of his hat with one hand, but was also holding (Reader)’s. Only because he doesn't want to find them if they get lost. Only because of that. “Certainly not mine. This was your dumb idea to go out into a fucking blizzard that we could see from miles away.” He spat. “Your reasons being: ‘Well a blizzard shouldn't be this bad this early in the season!! Only a few snowflakes here and there’..” He mocks their voices, feet walking across the snow as he dragged them to keep up. “But no! A blizzard is more than ‘a few snowflakes’ dumbass.”

Throughout all of those personal attacks, (Reader) could only scoff as they braced all of the cold air brutally assaulting their face. “HEY! That was me being optimistic!!” They scowled, their grp on Wanderer’s hand tightening as they trek through some more snow.

The path that they were on was barely visible. The snow fluttering all around them was like a blinding swarm of ice cubes. It hits your face and you get a free exfoliation.

“Yeah? Well optimism only gets you so far.” Wanderer snarks as he also tightens his grip on the edge of his hat. The tassels fly around in the ice cold wind like two pig-tails.

(Reader) sneezes, to which Wanderer cringes and turns back. His face was disgusted at first, but shifted when he remembered (Reader) is just being sensitive to the cold. However, (Reader) just gives him a look and sticks out their tongue.

“Keep giving me that look and something will happen. I already told you that I was being optimistic and I’m sorry-!” (Reader) frowned, stumbling over a heap of snow that was kicked up by accident.

Wanderer scoffs at the supposed threat, and was about to say something until a huge gust of wind blew their way. It was enough to make even him struggle to anchor himself. (Reader) of course obviously was about to blow away, but was barely saved when Wanderer had tightened his grip on their smaller hand.

“Shit--!” Wanderer grunted as the aftermath of the wind lifted the back of his hat and made it blow far away. All that was visible was a blur of blue, teal, and two flying tassels disappearing into the wind.

The two stop walking on the path, as Wanderer stands there literally winded and stunned. Then makes a deep and heavy sigh. “..Hahh…. There goes my fucking hat.” He rumbled.

(Reader) shivered and unconsciously moved their body to go up against Wanderer’s for some kind of comfort and shield from the wind. They looked at Wanderer and snorted. “Ha! I told you something would happen, you mean ass!” They laughed. Then sneezed again, making Wanderer recoil in disgust once more.

With a short gruff, Wanderer tugged (Reader) along the white-covered path and snow-capped mountains. Following the direction where his hat flew, his pace was hurried yet careful. He didn't want to say it out loud, but he really did care for (Reader)’s safety. Or at least the bare minimum. Silence descends on the two again. Nothing but the icy winds were blowing throughout any openings in their clothes. (Reader) shivers, Wanderer is still and calm.

It was only until a couple dozen meters that Wanderer spotted a blue mound in the snow. “Oh fucking finally--” He exasperates in mild relief, then practically yanked (Reader) to walk faster.

(Reader)’s feet were really cold. And with this constant running more snow was being kicked up onto their clothes and shoes. “Slow down! I’m tired of walking so fast!” They scowled, but were promptly ignored.

As the two approached the little blue blur, Wanderer plopped down and dug his hands in the snow to push and brush the snow away. (Reader) just stands there, pulling and tugging their coat to stay on their body. They saw the mysterious snow mound and were just staring at it. Something was off, but they couldn't put their finger on it. Was it the weird glow from the snow bank? A weird little snowflake effect around it? Well, the mound was kind of too round to be a hat shape but whatever.

Wanderer continued to dig in the now, he had a smug smirk on his face as snow flew all around him. “Hah! Beat this shit (Reader)! Bad luck didn't last very long!!” He cackled and laughed, reaching the source of the blue blur that was once covered in snow. “Hah…C'mere you fucker..” He sneered as he grasped the blue ball, pulling it out from the snow.

His smirk was there for the next 5 seconds until he frowned. In his hands was a blue thing sure, but it was squishy and round and really cold. Definitely not shaped like a hat. It had a face. A cute face at that. And it stared at Wanderer blankly.

And he stared at it back blankly. Then went back to his classic disgusted expression as he realized his false hope for finding his dear hat was only to dig up a stupid little Cryo slime.

A little staring contest happens. Until Wanderer gets tired of looking at his failure, throwing the slime up with a sudden gush of Anemo, sending the poor Cryo blob into the air and out of sight. The cold air also acts a little… Escalator? The ones in airports to move faster? Or maybe as a little current in the air, and really all you could see was a blob of something going up and away..

With a heavy sigh, Wanderer gets up and turns around to face (Reader), a look of unhappiness clear and visible. (Reader) on the other hand watched the interaction, suddenly not feeling cold and stood there amidst the snow. And laughed loudly at him, but to his dismay.

“Shut the hell up.” Wanderer snapped as snowflakes fell on his hair. Looks like dandruff honestly.

(Reader) obviously didn't want to. “HAHAA!! What an idiot! I knew something was off. IT shouldn't have been that easy..” They hummed and eased up on their joy when Wanderer made that little ball of Anemo in the palm of his hand. “...Yea okay.” (Reader) deadpans.

Wanderer kept his unamused look and turned back around, holding his hand out behind him for (Reader) to take. “..C'mon… Let's just hurry up, get my hat and get the fuck outta here.” He grumbled, then resumed the hike as he feels (Reader)’s cold hand meet in his.

And so the journey of finding Wanderer’s hat continues. You are probably wondering as I break the 4th wall, ‘Why can't Wanderer just fly?’ Well, it's probably because the damn snow hinders visibility, and Wanderer has some unsaid consideration for (Reader). A cute detail, but he probably would fly in a blizzard with (Reader) if there's snow everywhere, cautious of their health and noting the conditions. Adorable.

The journey continued yes, but progress was nada. And that is showing as Wanderer starts tweaking out, his eye twitching and pace increasing in urgency and the whole shebang. (Reader) was just witnessing the spectacle, isn't sure whether or not to laugh or feel worried about Wanderer’s sanity. So instead they just tugged at him lightly as they started plowing through the snow.

“Hey! Calm down already!” (Reader) urged as they began to trip over their feet from having to make small leaps over piles of snow. “...You’ll find it soon. So just relax..” They mumbled, now being somewhat serious.

Wanderer being Wanderer, he just gruffed and shook his head. “This is all your fault- If you didn't make us pass through Dragonspine instead of walking AROUND it, then we would be in this shitty predicament!” He barked at (Reader) roughly.

After he says that, a little roll of snow blocked their path, but blinded with well, snow flying, Wanderer tripped and fell on his face. So Wanderer faceplants into the snowbank, (Reader) following suit by also tripping and landing on their knees. They get up first and dust off the cold shivers. Wanderer however, remained in the snow, and (Reader) had to poke their foot into his side for him to just sigh heavily.

“..Quit that.” Wanderer says, voice muffled in the snow as he moves his hands to cover himself in the snow.

Rolling their eyes, (Reader) is about to say something, but stops as a fluttering object in the sky floats down and lands squarely on Wanderer’s head. They blinked and snickered. “..Found your hat..”

To that, Wanderer seems to stop his burial and physically pauses. And he just makes another long groan into the snow as all of his previous attempts and long walks on finding his dear lost hat were in vain.

That stupid hat of his.

The sole cause of Wanderer freaking the fuck out. Ridiculous.

After 2 minutes of life re-evaluation, Wanderer creaked his joints back up, taking (Reader)’s hand without saying anything else and head tipped downwards. It was a silent walk out of Dragonspine, and at this point (Reader) had frostbite in multiple places. It hurt, but at least (Reader) had some kind of enjoyment out of this long journey.

But one thing was for sure, once they were out and warmed up out of the winter climate, Wanderer scooped (Reader) up in his arm and flew the heck out of Mondstadt. Of course he held onto them tightly. Ironic how he was freaking out about his aht, but it literally disappears once he’s in flight.

But whatever.

From now on, he probably won't agree to go do errands with you anymore.