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lazy4honey · 2 days ago

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Unseelie Fae

Should be sleeping, looked at fae fucker, remembered an old idea I never got to use, just started writing, tried to do something short, obviously didn’t succeed…

Contains: second person perspective, gender neutral, fae, long, slow, teasing, dub-con, tentacles, fingering, anal, big 🍆, lots of 💦, slight belly bulge, NSFW towards the end

Note: both men and women have a glans and erectile tissue 👍

There are two courts of faeries, opposed to each other like day and night. One is known as the Seelie Court, mischievous but well meaning, while the other is the Unseelie Court, full of cunning pranks and tricks.

But regardless of their differences, they all love to play tricks on humans.

As such, you go to bed one night and fall asleep unusually quickly and dream.

You stand in a blooming meadow. The cerulean sky above you is dotted with white cotton clouds and the sun beams down onto the earth in a blinding manner, a mixture of the flowers’ fragrance and the slightly burnt smell of ozone typical for hot summer days filling your nose as the hot breeze brushes over your skin.

You look around and find a lone tree growing in the meadow. It looks old, knotted branches adorned by emerald leaves reaching towards the sky almost like a withered hand. There is a strange aura to this tree, but you still walk over to stand in its cool shade.

Then something magical happens.

A pale glimmer lights up on one of the lower branches and drops, leaving a glittering string as fine as spider silk hanging straight down. You watch with curiosity and awe as the string lights up and splits open into a gateway.

The next moment, before you can see what lies beyond, a figure steps through the gateway.

As soon as you lay your eyes on them, they have stolen your breath away.

They are tall and thin, clad in flowing black robes that seem to meld into the shadows, as if made from them. Their long, straight black hair blends in with the robe, and it forms a stark contrast with their morbidly pale skin. With elegant brows, eyes resembling black pearls, and light pink lips, there is an unsettling beauty to them that transcends all perceptions of gender you had before.

They look at you and you see what you believe to be a smile flash through their mesmerizing eyes.

Entranced, you watch them life their arm and reach out to you. Their boney hand is just as pale as their face, and their black fingernails are long and pointed. For some reason, you think it resembles the tree.

With a turn of their wrist, a round, enticingly red apple appears in their hand. Just by looking at its eich color, you can already feel its mouthwatering taste in your mouth.

You don’t hesitate to grab the apple and take a bite out of it. It is crisp and juicy, just like you imagined, and the red of the peel bleeds into the white fruit flesh like blood stained snow.

The beautiful person in black smiles as they watch you eat their apple, and you happily smile back at them.

After eating the apple, they take your hand, their cold touch making you feel a strange anticipation as they lead you through the gateway. Time and space creak as they are twisted, and the next moment you stand on the meadow by night, the sleeping flower buds doused in silvern moonlight as the nearby hill breaks open and reveals the fae folk dancing to their bewitching music in a hall illuminated by firefly-like dots of light.

Enthralled, you step forward. You enter the hill and find yourself in the hall contained within you had just seen, surrounded by countless beings more beautiful than you could have ever imagined.

You wander around the hall, dancing with a man with glittering dragonfly wings fly wings one moment and a woman with colorful butterfly wings the next. Then you are pushed onward and pass by the buffet, grabbing some candy-like nuts and berries that crunch satisfyingly between your teeth before arriving at the band’s little stage. After energetically beating the drum for the goat-horned man playing the pan flute for a few songs, you are tired and let yourself be carried along by the stream of fae, finally coming to a black throne.

Seated on that throne is the beautiful being that gave you their apple, and their eyes seem to twinkle as they look at you and once again reach out their hand.

It is empty, waiting for you to take it.

You do.

They gently pull and you fall onto their lap without any resistance, adoringly gazing up at them as you lean against their chest. Your eyes meet and sparks fly, eliciting excited cheers from the crowd of fae folk.

The beautiful being brushes a hand through your hair, admiring your blushing face. Then they lean down and kiss your forehead, your eyes, your nose, your cheeks and jaw, and finally coming to your lips. They pause and look you deep in the eyes, seeking your consent before ever so gently kissing you.

Their lips are cold, just like their hands, but not unpleasantly so. There is the faint fragrance of apples.

They hold your face and gradually deepen the kiss, making you close your eyes in enjoyment and miss the flash of deep red in their eyes. Your lips opens on their own and allow their tongue to intrude on your mouth. When their cold tongue grazes yours, you flinch back in surprise only to quickly engage with them. The feeling of their slippery tongue against yours is divine.

You clutch at their robes and rub your thighs against each other as heat pools in your abdomen and makes you long for something more.

There seems to be a distant sigh, followed by a rustle, and then darkness envelops you. The boos of the crowd come from far away, but the coolness of that beautiful being is still closely attached to you, their arms wrapping around you to hold your waist.

You open your eyes and only see a vague outline of them, but you don’t mind. Raising your arms to cling to their neck, you engage them in another long, deep kiss, aiming to warm their coldness with your overflowing warmth.

They chuckle and press you tightly against themselves, kiss turning a little shallower as they rub your back, down your spine and to your ass, making you relax in comfort.

Then you feel something on your ankle. It is just as cold as the beautiful being’s hands, yet there is a strange slickness to it. You wiggle your foot. When the sensation doesn’t go away, you try to retreat from the kiss to take a look, but they don’t give you that chance as they deepen the kiss again and sneak a cold hand beneath your shirt to caress your waist.

The strange sensation remains on your ankle, and as you forget about it, it starts moving again. It slides up your calf like a living rope, crawling beneath your pants and wrapping itself around your soft flesh. Then it strokes your knee.

Your legs tighten and you want to kick it away, but then another cold, slick thing wraps around your other foot, tickling your sole. You squirm and whine into the beautiful being’s mouth, hoping they will notice your plight and rescue you. But they just hold your waist more tightly, sliding a hand up to your warm chest as their head moves down to kiss your neck.

Free of any obstruction, you moan. The cold hands and lips on your warm skin make you feel so tingly, their every caress adding to the hotness in your abdomen. You can’t resist rubbing your crotch against their thigh as you get excited.

At this moment, the slick tentacle-like things move again. They wrap around your legs, gently squeezing your thighs, their coldness making you tremble, and unexpectedly cooperate with the beautiful being to lift you up and sit you down on their lap with your legs spread. Then another tentacle attaches itself to the small of your back and trails its thin tip up your spine and down again.

With your hands not restrained, you twist to grab the annoying thing. The beautiful being beneath you suddenly releases a low moan. Unconsciously you tighten your grip, and they hum, the three cold, slick tentacles pulsing faintly.

Finally, you truly realize that the beautiful being is a fae.

A fae with tentacles.

An unknown kind of excitement takes hold of you and makes your heart beat like a drum. You swallow a mouthful of saliva and tug at the tentacle, pulling it before you.

The beautiful fae watches you in the darkness they created. Their hand tightens on your chest as you kiss the tip of the tentacle, their breath heating up when you take it into your hot, wet mouth. You gently suck on the tentacle and feel it pulse as they gasp, then gently bite it before removing it from your mouth and kissing along its length.

Meanwhile, the tentacles wrapped around your legs tighten and loosen together with the fae’s hands on your torso. They nuzzle their face against your neck and the tentacles around your legs start moving again, caressing your inner thighs and crawling forward, one making contact with your crotch. The tentacle presses a little and feels you tense. Then it slowly grinds against you, the cold, slick sensation seeping through your underpants as it fondles your arousal.

The fae feels your strong heartbeat and kisses your neck, their hand massaging your chest and making you accidentally bit the tentacle you are still holding a little harder when they pinch your nipple. They moan and the tentacle by your mouth is replaced with their lips as they plunder your mouth. The tentacle dripping with saliva strokes your shoulder and down into your shirt to your chest, the thin cold tip wrapping around your other nipple to pull and rub.

You pant at the many ministrations, aroused and wanting for more after being teased like this.

As if sensing your impatience, the tentacles on your legs start moving again. They both wriggle into your underpants, one reaching your front while the other curls around your ass cheek. The one in the front snakes along your crotch and to your eagerly throbbing genitalia. It carefully feels around and slowly pulls back your skin to reveal your glans and wet slit, rubbing against it at an agonizingly slow pace.

As you are kissed and caressed by hands and tentacles, you rock your hips against the fae for a little more friction. You want more, you hope for a deeper connection, one that steals your breath and echoes endlessly through your body.

The tentacle on your ass moves. It dives into the gap between your buttocks and kisses your small hole, making your butt clench around it. Its thin tip circles around the delicate, puckered skin and prods your hole again, even sinking a little inside.

You whine against the fae’s lips and they stroke your cheek. Then they reach down to your crotch, feeling the wetness at their fingertips, and rub your glans and slit along with the tentacle. Their hand is so cold and soft it makes you feel your pulse in your gut.

After rubbing for a while, sometimes stronger, sometimes lighter, coating their fingertips in your slowly dripping sticky liquids, they reach further and join the tentacle at your backside in prodding at your asshole. Thanks to your wetness, they are able to slide in a little more than the tentacle. Their sharp fingernail hurts a little but their other touches feel so good, and before you know it they are already one digit deep inside you.

They bite your lip as they patiently sink their entire index finger into your hole, then kiss down your jaw, neck, and chest. At your heart side, they bite your nipple, cold breath instantly making it harden, then lick. You clench around their fingertips with a moan and some more liquid drips from your slit onto the rubbing tentacle, making its movements smoother.

The fae gives your nipple a suck and pull their finger put, once again fingering your slit. You feel a little relieved yet empty, but before the feeling can settle in they return their fingers to your tight hole, carefully pressing two fingers inside your tight anus.

You moan in pain and sink your hands into the fae’s hair, gripping it tightly.

They give your chest a little bite and another tentacle joins the three. It is a little slicker than the others and the tip drips with a cold slime that makes you shiver. This tentacle sprinkles its slime across your body, mixing it with some of your own sticky liquids at your slit, and then joins the fae’s fingers as they gently press inside you. You can feel this tentacle squirm in your rectum and it seems to be pumping its cold slime into you. It coats the fae’s fingers, resulting in a quiet squelching sound as they curl against your hot flesh.

The slime drips down their hand and your ass as they continue moving, wriggling every now and then and pumping in and out in alternating tempo.

Then they add a third finger.

You feel a little full.

The dripping tentacle continuously pumps its slime into you and the squelching sound becomes louder as the sticky substance accumulates in your rear. Gradually, the fingers and slime heat up and your asshole feels a little numb and pleasantly tingly. You take the three fingers very well, earning yourself more kisses and caresses from the fae.

That beautiful fae, fucking you with their long cold fingers and slimy tentacles, could there be anything more arousing?

When they suddenly pull out their fingers, you whine and tug at their hair.

The slime dripping out of your widened hole, pulled even wider open by the fae’s tight grip on your ass cheeks, flows down the tentacle still peaking inside you, slicking it up. Then it begins to move.

The tentacle is about as thick as the fae’s three fingers, but it reaches deeper inside you and lacks the dangerous fingernails. When it enters you a little deeper, you feel it squirm again as it pumps you with its sticky slime once more, making your hole flutter, and then it retreats.

Afterwards, the other tentacles that had been toying with your body also retreat.

You unhappily wriggle your hips and pout. That couldn’t have been it, right? They couldn’t just leave you hanging like that, right?

Of course they don’t.

Your shirt is gently peeled off by their fingers, one hand cold and one warm and slick with the tentacle’s slime and your liquids. Then they slip their hands into your waistband, tapping your hips and looking at you.

Although they don’t say anything, you understand the look in their pitch black eyes. You hold onto their shoulders and raise yourself up, letting them take off your pants and underwear.

They admiringly stroke your bare skin. Your legs and your arms, your chest aching from the fondling, your waist, hips and ass, and finally your crotch — their cool touch is everywhere.

Then they press you against their chest and squeeze your ass.

The next moment, a thick, slimy tentacle with a phallic tip pressed against your asshole. Your muscles tensed and the hole tightened against the unexpectedly cold thing. It poked a little, then slid forward to rub against your leaking slit, gently pressing and pulling for a while and making you moan before returning to your backside.

The fae captured your lips and in that second of distraction, the tentacle pushed inside your anus and stretched the folds out of the puckered hole with its girth. With the hot slime and the phallic tentacle covered in cold slick completely filling your rectum, you felt almost unbearably full, but it didn’t hurt. When the tentacle started moving and the friction started heating the slippery liquids, the wonderful tingling sensation came back full force and traveled from your rear to your front, making you drip onto the fae’s robes.

They let their hand slide back down to your dripping holes and lightly pressed and rubbed your glans before fingering your slit that had become sensitive from all that stimulation as the tentacle in your ass sped up its movements, thrusting deeper inside you and stretching you further than before each time.

You moaned into their mouth. In your quest for more pleasure you rocked your hips with their thrusts, pushing your soaking slit into their cool hand one moment to seek relieve for your swollen erectile tissue and shoving your ass backwards onto their phallic tentacle to feel it pound deep into you the next.

Your enthusiasm please the fae. It pleased them even more when your ass clenched around their phallic tentacle, and you could the thing pulse in your ass and speed up. You relaxed, and then abruptly clenched again around them, eliciting a melodious moan from them as the tentacle pulsed.

Constantly stimulating each other in this was, the two of you sped up. As your climax neared, your movements grew a little sloppy. Chasing that obscure feeling, you shoved the tentacle even deeper into your soft insides, and then the fae came with an ecstatic moan.

Their phallic tentacle didn’t stop pulsing as a searing hot liquid was shot into your guts. The feel of your gut being filled and even bulging from their cum made you moan loudly, and so you, too, reached your climax. Your ass clenched more tightly than ever around the tentacle and squeezed it as you came and trembled, making you clearly feel every pulse and every new shot of cum.

After an unknown amount of time, you came back to your senses. Leaning against the fae and hugging their thin waist, your ass still stuffed with their phallic tentacle and dripping with cum and slime, you felt your body still echoing with the euphoric release you just experienced.

The fae hugged you and pressed a tender kiss to your sweaty temple.

Surrounded by the faint scent of apples, you relaxed against them and sleepily closed your eyes. As you drifted off, you heard them, the vibrations of their cold, resonant voice clearly transmitted into your chest as they whispered.

“Finally.”

#fae smut #fae fucker #teratophillia #terato #monster romance #monster fucker #monster smut #monster kink #tentacle smut #tentacle kink #gender neutral reader #gender neutral nsft #gender neutral language #gender neutral post #fae x reader #fae x human #monster x reader #monster x human #monster x you

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gothicxreylover · 3 days ago

Note

Can you please make a Yandere male (include females if you want) hashira hcs with a kakushi s/o that repairs their uniforms or clean up after their missions or deliver their swords when it's repaired. Please 🙏

𝕳𝔞𝖘𝔥𝖎𝔯𝖆’𝖘 𝖜𝔦𝖙𝔥 𝔞 𝔎𝖆𝔨𝖚𝔰𝖍𝔦 𝔖/𝔒

╭──────༺♡༻──────╮

Warning this contains Unhealthily Dynamics, Gaslighting/Emotional manipulation, subtle threats of violence (implied), imbalance of power in relationships, silent threats/ Emotional intimidation, intense/over protective behaviors, jealousy and control, and possessive/ obsessive behavior

╰──────༺♡༻──────╯

Giyu Tomioka - Water Hashira

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Unsettling Attention: Giyu is quiet and reserved, but when it comes to his Kakushi S/O, he’s very protective. He doesn't speak much, but his actions show an unhealthy possessiveness. He silently watches over them while they clean or repair his uniform, not even blinking when they touch his clothes. It’s almost as if he’s silently marking them as “his.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Silent Affection: He will only show affection in small, subtle ways, like standing in the doorway as his S/O repairs his sword or uniform. He watches them like a hawk, and if anyone gets too close, he has a tendency to linger, making his presence intimidating.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Keeping Them Close: Giyu might be a man of few words, but he’s the type to give a barely audible “thank you” after every task his S/O performs. If they’re delivering a repaired sword to him, he might hold their hand for just a little too long, giving them a hard stare as though telling them, “Don’t go anywhere.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Obsessive Protection: If he sees anyone even glance at his S/O, he gets cold and distant, staring them down until they look away. Giyu sees his S/O as someone he must protect, but not from just demons—he needs to shield them from other people, too. No one else should touch them or get too close.

Kanao Tsuyuri - Flower Hashira

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Gentle Yet Possessive: Kanao’s emotions can be a bit more restrained due to her upbringing, but when it comes to her S/O, she’s fiercely protective. If her S/O is fixing her uniform or delivering a repaired sword, she watches them with intense focus, feeling strangely possessive of them. She won’t speak unless spoken to, but her gaze is sharp and unwavering.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Small Gifts: After her S/O repairs her uniform or delivers her sword, she might leave them little gifts—flowers, a handmade token, or even a small note with cryptic but affectionate messages. She finds ways to express her affection in subtle, almost secretive ways.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Worrying Over Them: Whenever her S/O goes out to clean up after one of her missions or deliver something, she gets a sense of worry. She doesn’t express it vocally, but you’ll see her pacing, her hands twitching as if she’s resisting the urge to check up on them. She’ll try to act normal, but it’s clear she’s watching from a distance, ensuring that nothing happens to them.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ��꒱ ‧₊˚ Gentle Restraint: If someone gets too close to her S/O, Kanao’s demeanor will change. She won’t directly confront the person, but a cold, calculating aura will surround her. The person will often feel her presence lingering, warning them that they are trespassing into dangerous territory.

Shinobu Kocho - Insect Hashira

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Deceptively Sweet: Shinobu’s yandere tendencies are masked behind a calm, sweet demeanor. She’ll smile as her S/O repairs her uniform or delivers her sword, but there’s a glint of something darker in her eyes. She finds it adorable when they tend to her belongings—almost as if they’re her personal servant.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ "Grateful" Gestures: Shinobu is too thankful for the little things her S/O does, to the point where it might seem unsettling. After they deliver her sword, she may press a kiss on their cheek or hand, almost as if marking them as “hers.” She enjoys their attention and becomes very clingy once they show any care for her work.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Isolation: She'll often send her S/O out on "errands" or ask them to "stay close" while she's in the middle of something, like tending to patients or preparing poisons. She wants them by her side at all times, ensuring they aren't distracted by anyone else. The idea of her S/O helping other Hashira or speaking to anyone outside of her circle drives Shinobu crazy with jealousy.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Subtle Threats: If someone is too forward or too friendly with her S/O, Shinobu's kindness turns chilling. She'll smile and laugh, but her words will carry a sharp edge, warning the person to back off. “I’d hate for you to accidentally hurt yourself,” she’ll say with a soft giggle, before turning her attention back to her S/O, watching them with unnerving adoration.

Sanemi Shinazugawa - Wind Hashira

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Fury and Fear: Sanemi’s yandere tendencies are fueled by his intense anger and fear of losing those he cares about. If his S/O is cleaning up after his mission, repairing his torn uniform, or delivering a repaired sword, Sanemi will be constantly watching them with suspicion, almost as if he’s afraid someone will try to take them away from him.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Forceful Affection: He’s the type who will grab their wrist and pull them close after they’ve done something for him, practically forcing his affection onto them. There’s no subtlety in his displays of need for them; it’s all possessive, domineering gestures.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Unspoken Threats: If anyone else talks to or even looks at his S/O for too long, Sanemi will give them an icy glare. His words are harsh, but there’s a menacing undertone to them. “Stay away from them, you piece of shit. They’re mine,” he’ll mutter, and it’s clear that he will stop at nothing to keep his S/O close.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Extreme Protectiveness: After every mission, when his S/O tends to him, Sanemi becomes possessive to the point of paranoia. He'll try to keep them by his side at all times, and if they get too close to someone else (even in conversation), he’ll act out violently. He’ll hold their repaired sword with a vicious grip, ready to lash out at anyone who threatens his hold on them.

Mitsuri Kanroji - Love Hashira

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Affection Overload: Mitsuri is the embodiment of intense, overwhelming love. When her S/O repairs her torn uniform or delivers her sword after it’s been fixed, she showers them with excessive affection—hugs, kisses, and sweet words. She’s not afraid to show how much they mean to her, but the intensity can sometimes feel suffocating. She’ll follow them around with a huge smile, constantly telling them how much she loves them.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Clinginess: Mitsuri constantly wants to be near her S/O. She’ll hang around while they’re cleaning or repairing things, offering to help in any way she can—though her "help" often turns into her just watching them with a loving gaze. If they ever go off to do something for another Hashira, Mitsuri will insist on tagging along, afraid of losing them or someone else taking them away from her.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Jealousy: If anyone else seems to take interest in her S/O, even if it’s just friendly, Mitsuri’s mood shifts. She’ll become visibly upset, hanging onto her S/O even more tightly, almost as if she’s trying to "mark" them as her own. "You’re mine, right?" she’ll ask sweetly but with an edge, hoping they’ll reassure her.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Constant Praise: After any task they perform for her—whether it’s repairing her uniform, delivering a sword, or cleaning up after a mission—Mitsuri praises them constantly. “You’re the best! I love you so much! No one else could do what you do!” Her overwhelming compliments make it clear that, in her mind, her S/O is her perfect partner.

Obanai Iguro - Serpent Hashira

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Possessive and Silent: Obanai’s possessiveness is subtle but fierce. He doesn’t say much, but his eyes follow his S/O wherever they go, especially if they’re interacting with anything related to his mission—whether it’s repairing his uniform or delivering his sword. His snake, Kaburamaru, might also get in on the act, acting as a silent "guardian" over the S/O, watching them with a snake-like intensity.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Subtle Threats: Obanai doesn’t get angry easily, but his words are chilling. If he notices anyone else speaking to his S/O for too long, he might approach quietly, his voice cold and detached as he asks, "Is there a problem here?" His tone is polite but leaves no room for argument, and anyone who crosses him will feel his watchful gaze lingering long after the conversation ends.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Silent Affection: Obanai doesn’t express affection the same way others do. He’ll stand close to his S/O as they work on his uniform or sword, his presence almost suffocating in its quiet intensity. Sometimes, without warning, he’ll place his hand on theirs, gripping them gently but firmly. His actions are possessive, but in his own way, he’s showing his care.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Controlled Jealousy: If someone else does something for his S/O, like offering to clean up or fix their clothes, Obanai’s jealousy manifests in his unspoken silence. He’ll retreat, but his eyes will never leave the scene. It’s clear that Obanai believes his S/O should belong only to him, and he won’t tolerate anyone else intruding on his territory.

Tengen Uzui - Sound Hashira & His Wives (Suma, Makio, and Hinatsuru)

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Overwhelming Attention: Tengen, as well as his wives, are incredibly attached to their S/O. When they’re cleaning up after missions, repairing Tengen’s uniforms, or delivering his sword, they’re the center of attention—not just from Tengen, but from the wives too. Tengen’s larger-than-life personality often leads to him teasing his S/O affectionately, while his wives compete for their attention.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Excessive Praise and Rewards: Tengen will often express his appreciation in extravagant ways, showering his S/O with praise and lavish gifts. "You’re amazing, darling! Look at you, taking care of my uniform like it’s nothing!" His wives, too, will join in on the compliments, sometimes playfully competing to see who can be the most "charming" or affectionate with the S/O.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Jealousy and Over-Protection: Despite their "open" relationship, Tengen and his wives become intensely protective when it comes to their S/O. If another Hashira or even a demon slayer speaks too closely to them, Tengen will immediately step in, making a loud, almost theatrical declaration of possession. "That’s my partner! Hands off!" The wives will back him up, making sure no one can get too close to their S/O.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Group Obsession: While Tengen might be the loudest, each of his wives has a unique bond with the S/O. Suma is clingy and emotional, constantly seeking affection, while Makio is a bit more competitive and will try to steal attention. Hinatsuru, the most grounded, might be more subtle but will ensure that the S/O is always near her and that Tengen's boundaries are respected. Together, they form an obsessive but strangely harmonious dynamic around their S/O.

Gyomei Himejima - Stone Hashira

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Gentle but Intense Protection: Gyomei’s yandere tendencies come from a place of extreme, almost paternal love and protection. His S/O may repair his uniform, clean up after missions, or deliver his sword to him, but he sees these actions as signs of loyalty and devotion. He becomes deeply attached and protective of them, always needing to ensure they’re safe and sound. He’ll often find himself watching over them as they work, his imposing figure looming over them but his voice soft and caring.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Silent Obsession: Gyomei doesn’t express his feelings through words often, but his gaze never leaves his S/O. When they do something for him, he might softly murmur, “Thank you… Please, take care of yourself.” He’s almost obsessive in his care, constantly worried about their well-being and ensuring that they’re always at his side.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Extreme Loyalty: If anyone else interacts with his S/O in a way that even remotely feels too friendly, Gyomei will subtly insert himself into the conversation, standing nearby and giving a quiet but intense stare. He doesn't like confrontation but will use his sheer size and strength to ensure his S/O is never out of his sight for long.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ A Quiet Love: Gyomei’s affection is shown in his care. He might not be as outwardly intense as others, but he’ll go out of his way to ensure that his S/O’s work is appreciated, whether it’s helping them with tasks or ensuring they’re well-rested after a long day. His love is possessive in that it never allows them to feel free from his watchful gaze.

Muichiro Tokito - Mist Hashira

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Detached Yet Obsessive: Muichiro’s yandere tendencies are often buried beneath his distracted, aloof personality. While he might not openly express affection, he becomes uncomfortably possessive when it comes to his S/O. When they repair his uniform or clean up after his mission, he watches them with a cold, unfocused gaze, not saying much but always keeping an eye on them.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Silent Possession: Muichiro doesn't speak much, but his actions make it clear that his S/O belongs to him. If they ever leave the room to deliver something for another Hashira or work on someone else’s gear, he’ll get agitated, standing up and silently following them to make sure no one else interacts with them. He doesn’t understand why it bothers him, but it does.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Staring and Silent Obsession: Muichiro will often stare at his S/O without realizing it, his eyes unfocused, lost in thought. When they do something for him, he’ll become fixated on them for a while, silently watching, occasionally muttering something to himself that’s difficult to understand. His obsession is quiet but undeniable.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Protective without Words: If anyone approaches his S/O too closely, Muichiro’s behavior shifts. He won’t confront them directly but will stand between them and his S/O, his gaze suddenly more intense, as though silently telling them to back off. His protection is indirect but undeniably possessive.

Rengoku Kyojuro (Flame Hashira)

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Obsessive Attention to DetailRengoku is fiercely possessive when it comes to how you care for his things. Every time you fix a tear in his uniform or clean his blade, he watches you with a sharp, unwavering gaze, as if observing every movement you make. He always comments on how well you do it, almost too much, as if praising your devotion serves to remind both of you that you belong to him. "Only you can handle my uniform with such care, my beloved. You're the only one who truly understands my needs."

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Constant Reassurance, Mixed with Subtle Possessiveness.When you deliver his repaired sword, Rengoku will always give you a warm, affectionate hug and a kiss on the forehead. But even in these sweet moments, there's an underlying intensity in his gaze. He’ll pull you close, quietly saying, “I need you to always take care of me like this. No one else can.” He’ll often insist on being the only one who can touch his sword or handle his belongings, and any suggestion that others could assist is met with a cold, possessive tone.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Quiet Jealousy, Overprotectiveness. Rengoku doesn't express jealousy in loud outbursts, but when you interact with others in the Corps—whether it's other Kakushi or even higher-ranked members—he’ll subtly insert himself into the conversation. He’s quick to wrap his arm around you or kiss your temple, making it known that you're his. "No one knows how to take care of my things like you do, love. They could never match your level of care." He always ensures that no one gets too close to you, and if anyone offers help, he quickly steps in to handle things himself, though always in a calm, collected manner.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ Tangible Evidence of His Devotion.Rengoku’s love for you is intense, and he expresses it through both words and actions. He often gifts you small tokens—like a flame-shaped pendant or a piece of jewelry—reminders of your bond. But more than anything, he treasures your care for him. Every uniform you mend or sword you repair becomes a symbol of your loyalty, a silent pact between you two. If you ever suggest taking a break or focusing on something else, Rengoku will quickly remind you, “It’s because of your care that I’m strong. You are irreplaceable to me.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

I hope you like it!

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dervampireprince · 1 day ago

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thank you everyone who's found me after watching arcane season 2 and my almost 3 years of making viktor audios!

my current audios:

25 sfw

9 public nsfw (6 x listener, 3

#jayvik)

10 patreon nsfw (6 x listener {3 machine herald, 1 vampire}, 1 jayvik)

mostly trans viktor

a mix of mostly gender neutral listener, but also female listener, male listener (including trans man listener and t4t viktor x listener), nonbinary listener

my public sfw audios are on youtube and soundgasm, public nsfw are on soundgasm, and the rest are patreon exclusive. all the links are in my pinned post.

[18+ only, minors dni]

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mr-celestial-writings · 2 days ago

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Homemade Cocoa

Day 20: Hot Chocolate

Pairing: Damian Wayne + GN! Reader

Summary: Damian had invited you over after school. What kind of host and friend would he be if he didn't give you hot coco to warm up from the cold? Pennyworth makes the best!

DC MASTERLIST

CELESTIAL'S 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

================================================

"I am Home! And I brought a Guest!" Damian called as you two entered the manor. Alfred appeared next to you both.

"Welcome home, Master Damian, Master [Name]. Let me take you coats." Alfred said, taking your coats as you take them off.

"Thank you, Pennyworth. [Last Name] and I will be in my room. Would you mind bringing us some cocoa?" Damian asked.

Alfred gave an affirmative nod, "Of course, Master Damian. It will help you two warm up."

With that, Damian began leading you through the Labrinth he called home. He was talking your ear off about one thing or another. You could hardly believe that this was the same Damian who threatened you when you first met.

You two eventually reached Damian's room.

"Pennyworth will be here with the cocoa soon. It's homemade. I can assure you, it will warm you up in no time." Damian stated, you sat down on one of the chairs in the room.

"Oohh, that sounds yummy." You said.

Damian gave a stern nod, "Pennyworth's Cocoa is unmatched. Then again, that could be said about his cooking in general."

You laughed softly, and it wasn't long before Alfred appeared with a tray. On the tray, there were two cups of hot cocoa, and a bowl of marshmallows.

"Your Hot Cocoa." Alfred said, setting the tray on Damian's nightstand.

"Thank You, Alfred." Damian said. You don't think you've ever seen him so... kind.

"Thank you, Mister Pennyworth!" You said. Alfred smiled and nodded, before leaving.

Damian handed your cup, "You can put in marshmallows if you want."

You hummed, looking at the steaming brown liquid. It smelled so good!

You took a careful sip, as to not accidently burn yourself.

Your eyes lit up. It was so chocolaty! So Creamy! The flavor was so enhanced! Better than the packaged stuff you usually had.

"Amazing!" You grinned.

Damian nodded in agreement, "I told you so."

================================================

a/n: I love hot coco. I drink it pretty much any time of the year. I'm always cold and the apartment is often kept frigid.

#fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #x gender neutral reader #dc comics #dc universe #batfam #dc x reader #dc x gender neutral reader #dc x gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x gn reader #damian wayne x gender neutral reader

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majeoeje · 2 days ago

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Nightly Routine

Arlecchino x reader

You were my worst pain in the world

Synopsis: For as long as you could remember you only had one purpose. And that is to fulfill your bloodlust. So you never thought to crave salvation, let alone in connection. Especially from the 4th fatui harbinger who was far from compassionate. Yet from the way she pours you her attention, how could you not be left wanting for more?

“Have you ever loved?”. You asked, the feeling the soft motion of her brush running through your hair stopped as you felt her stern gaze placed upon you. Though you continue to keep your arms locked around your knees, patiently waiting for her answer. Anticipating something fulfilling to past the time.

You hunged your gaze to the small window in front of you, the moon light that invited itself in had always been enchanting to you. Like a forbidden call of freedom from the outside. You bask yourself in the light as if you were tasting freedom in itself. But her touch was just as strong as the call of night. It almost felt like a tethering constraint that tugs on your heatstrings. Is this what they call attachment?

“Why is it that you ask?”. Her voice was calm like the night, one that always soothe your ache in loneliness.

Her brushstrokes continued to glide across your tangled hair. Battlefield had always left many knots up your hair, but no matter how unimportant it may seem, The Knave always made sure every single one of it were undone every night.

“I had to kill again today”. You said, it lacked remorse and empathy . You were already too far gone to possess any of that fleeting emotions. “2 people, lovers i believe”.

Arlecchino listened intently, but it was rather an irregular topic of yours. Because you never even gave a second thought to the people that you killed.

“I just didn’t know death could look so… Peaceful with the one you loved in your arms” you contemplated. Arlecchino was done with your hair, she heard a small thank you coming out of your mouth. Though she didn’t speak, noticing you were sorting out your thoughts.

“Have you ever felt such love?” You asked, awe unmistakably laced through your voice.

A chilling pause overcame the air for a moment. Though you weren’t that emotionally adapt to notice it. Funny how she could easily slice your neck with her scythe at every given second, though every given time e she always chooses not to.

“Once”. She stated. She had loved someone, as much as she was capable of loving anyone. Which was never enough.

“Really?!” You quickly turned to face her, she would never admit it but your childlike wonder had always allured her to you. It felt like a thin thread was pulling her towards you every time she saw that glow of wonder in your eyes. It was nostalgic, almost reminiscent of someone.

Arlecchino could feel the bed shift as you got closer to her, in a proximity that would let anyone to believe that you didn’t know the meaning of personal space.

“How did it feel like? Did it hurt?” She knew everything was foreign to you despite you being older than her. It made her realize just how sheltered you had been

In this proximity, she noticed the way the light that peaked through your window illuminated you. In her eyes, you shine in a different way, it was as if she could see through you. So fragile and delicate. She also noticed the many detailed precised scars that couldn’t had came from battle. One on your forehead more prominent than the rest. In a way and the other, she was seeing you in a different light.

“It was the worst pain in the world” she said. Dead serious.

Seeing you gasp as your face contort in horror light a small fire in her. To her defense it is not everyday anyone gets to see this coldblooded war machine being afraid of such exaggerations. Amusement may be an overstatement. But clearly there was something about you that always manages to make her come back knocking on your door.

“It was merely a jest”. she says, as she plastered a smile she would put on to please diplomats. She pulled aside the strands of hair that were out of place to the back of your ear “i apologize for making you afraid”.

“I see… so that was fear”. You simply deducted. You wondered if your expression had mirrored those who you killed. “It was rather unpleasant”.

You noted the way the knave softly spoken to you in that initial moment, you’ll make sure to utilize this new knowledge.

“It is unpleasant, yes.” Said The Knave who had never felt true fear.

“Do you think it could be possible for me to love, Knave?” You continued your line of questions.

Despite being an open book, the knave could never figure out the nature of your mind. In truth she doesn’t know. That’s what makes your company so enthralling.

“Hmm, i don’t see why such thing would be impossible”. She carressed your face, her sharp nails slightly scratching at your skin. You can’t help but melt into her tender touch.

Her confirmation alone brought a sense of relief in you. You didn’t know why before both of her hands started to move to hold you. Her hands were cold. So cold that one wouldn’t think she was alive. Yet her cold hands could set your skin on fire everywhere it touches you. The black skin on her hand resembled that of the finest silk gloves in teyvat, her long dark red nails serving her more elegance. Her touch by itself had left a permanent imprint on your mind you didn’t think you could live without it.

“I think i love you” you declared it so casually like it was just another mundane thing. It mirrored the way you would mindlessly talk about your everyday activities.

It was rather strange. In all her life she had never heard those words being spoken to her. So is it really wrong for her to not take this lightly?

It took her a second to process your words. But before she could speak the door to your chamber slammed open with a loud thud.

Arlecchino internally rolled her eyes when she realized who was at the door.

“Isn’t it a bit late for your time of visit, Knave?” Despite his brash movements, The doctor spoke with a calm manner. He was right, it was past midnight. She felt like she got caught, in a way.

Could it be that she was so focused on you that she forgot to counter in the time? And was she really that immersed in your company that she didn’t sense The Doctor’s steps as he was coming?

“It seems that time passed me by rather quickly” She said as she poised herself to be more presentable, letting go of you. You understood it wasn’t a good time to be upset with your creator here.

“I hope you don’t mind me taking them away. We have important matters to attend to.”

Dottore extended his arm, calling you to aid him by his side. It was probably going to be another unsightly experiment to your body. You mourned the fact that you had to bid your departure with The Knave in such way. Though you were happy about this fruitful meeting. The thought about this day would bring a small haven of relief in your mind as The Doctor finds new ways to toy with your already rotting flesh and bones.

Though what objections can you give to your own creator?

“This late at night, doctor?” Arlecchino protest. You were about to stand up before you felt her stop you in your action.

“This simply cannot wait. You see..” as Dottore continues to explain the extent of his research, your mind wonders elsewhere. It had became a habit of yours to disassociate with his ramblings, truly you didn’t care for his cause. Because no matter how unimportant or important it was, there was one thing for sure. It would be painful.

Though when your mind had wandered away it was easily brought back with a single snap of her voice.

“I won’t let you”.

Arlecchino had always carried herself with an apathetic demeanor. Some would say she was cold and heartless, but you could only see every part of her as graceful. She was the most beautiful thing you had layed your eyes on. Though you never thought she would have yet another side to her. One more ragged and impulsive. Yet you couldn’t help but think it was just as mezmerizing.

“Your overstepping here, Knave”.

As Dottore went closer, you could feel Arlecchino’s protective embrace around you.

“I don’t care. They’re done having to deal with your unsightly experiments.”

You never thought the X in her eyes could shine in this glow, as her black irises stared Dottore down in such an ominous way. You couldn’t stop yourself from examining the way her blackened hand that was so used to caressing you clenched in a way you hadn’t seen before. It made you wonder if anger had ever looked so beautiful on someone.

“What fascinating reaction.. did you forget one small detail that you had no authority here?” He simply stated. His sharp teeths peeking through his menacing smile.

“I don’t. But i won’t hesitate to make the House of Hearth your enemy if you dare lay a finger on them.”

Dottore was taken aback with this. It had just occurred to him that she was dead serious.

“You wanna try me?” She states. Bold and unafraid.

The room fell to a silence as you awaited for The Doctor’s answer. It felt like the longest 5 seconds of your life.

“Haha! Now we wouldn’t want that would we?”he laughs. More amused than offended, knowing damn well what was going on.

“I could only wonder why you were being so persistant! But i shall leave you to it then”

As Dottore waltz away you could hear his laughter echoing through the hallway.

“Do not hesitate to tell me if he ever does anything to make you suffer” she states as she walked away.

Some parts of herself were ashamed to her children that she put everything down the line to protect you. It was uncalled for and brash. It was rather out or character for her to do such uncalculated things.

But before she could walk past your door you stopped her.

She turned to face you, surprised that you caught her off guard.

“Thank you” you said.

It was foreign to you. You and her both knew that it was your first time saying such words. Because up until now, you had no reason to say it.

“Anytime” she said.

Were you imagining things? Or maybe The Doctor had sliced the wrong nerve on your brain during your last experiment. Because what you were seeing must not be real.

You could see a faint upturn curve on her lips. And after a second, it was gone.

No, that can’t be it. You shrugged it off, going back to sleep.

(A/N:yo my head was reeling when i write this but im working on a req rn i think it’s so sweet i can’t sleep until i get to the base of it😟)

#arlecchino #gender neutral reader #genshin impact #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino x female reader #arlecchino x male reader #the knave #the doctor #dottore #il dottore #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers #genshin snezhnaya #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin impact fatui #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines

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leighsartworks216 · 1 day ago

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All-Nighter

Zayne x gn!Reader

Somewhat related to Protocore Syndrome and Antiseptic and Latex, but only very vaguely

Warnings: pre-relationship, college au, cuddling, literal sleeping together, food, sharing food

Word Count: 1,123

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You frown at your laptop's bright screen, scanning over the words of the academic paper. You only look away to glance down into the cup of noodles. You gather a bite on your chopsticks, eat it, and drop the sticks into the cup to set it beside you. Hands now free, you open up another tab and begin typing the info you need.

The cup is picked up. Zayne takes up the chopsticks and looks away from his own work to dig through the cup. He pushes aside the carrot bits and picks out his own bite.

This has become commonplace, especially as the semester goes on and the work gets harder. All-nighters were spent on your dorm's couch, side by side on the bed, on the floor, or at the table. You'd gather a bunch of snacks, quick meals and drinks, and hunker in for the foreseeable future.

You're mid-sentence when an alarm goes off on Zayne's phone. With a pavlovian response, you stop typing and close your laptop. Tonight, you sit on your couch, feet up on the coffee table. The back comes up to your neck, allowing you the perfect opportunity to tilt your head back and stretch your arms overhead.

Zayne stops the alarm and closes his laptop. "Fifteen minutes." He takes another bite.

You sigh. After working for a solid hour, it does not feel like enough time to rest. What you both really need is one night where you get 6-8 hours of sleep, each. However, with finals just on the horizon, that feels like a dream that won't be coming true anytime soon.

You hold out a hand. He drops the chopsticks back into the cup and passes it over. You don't comment on his picky eating. Besides, the vegetables in this are sub par; you don't really want to be eating them either.

There's not much left. You finish it off and set the empty cup on the table. Zayne massages the tension in his hands. "How much do you have left?" he asks.

You rub at your eyes. They're raw with exhaustion, your vision beginning to blur despite how much you try to focus. "Too much," you mutter. "What about you?"

He hums, holding his laptop as he stretches his long legs out under the coffee table. "Too much," he parrots, though he doesn't say it with the same overwhelm as you. He's always been better at all-nighters, working with the utmost efficiency to get it all done. He's top of the class for a reason. Not to mention he’s already grades ahead of you, despite you both having started freshman year together. How you became friends in the first place was mere chance.

In one of your lecture classes, you both sat next to each other. You both stayed respectfully on your sides of the table, didn't speak to each other, diligently took your notes and did your work.

Then, weeks in, you'd overslept and were running late. The embarrassment of slinking in mid-lecture was bad, but when you realized you forgot your stuff for the class, you wanted to be swallowed up by the floor.

Zayne had watched you frantically rummage through your bag. He watched you stop, bow your head as though you were trying to pull yourself together, and quietly set it down under the table. He watched as you sat up and watched the lecture, leg bouncing and hands fiddling together.

You probably were about to cry when he slid over a small candy, wrapped in shiny paper. When you looked over, he was looking ahead. But, you took the candy. It was a small gesture, but the underplayed kindness of it made you feel loads better. When class ended and you thanked him, he offered to send you his notes from the class. You eagerly agreed and offered to make it up to him by buying him lunch.

You've been friends ever since.

You set your laptop aside and draw your legs onto the couch, trying to get comfortable. "'M gonna take a nap," you mumble through a yawn.

You have no idea if Zayne said anything in response. As soon as you were even remotely comfortable, you were asleep. After not sleeping well for the last few days (if not the last few weeks), your body just gave out.

Zayne checks the time on his watch. He can stand to stay awake for a while longer. He gets up, doing his best not to disturb you, and uses the rest of the break time to tidy up the snack wrappers, drink a glass of water, and grab a spare blanket to drape over you. He almost feels bad, knowing that in about 2 minutes, he would need to wake you up again, just so you can get back to your work. While he was ahead of you now, you'd told him about this class before. It's a neurology-specific class, one you'd been excited to register for, before you heard anything about the absurd workload.

He double checks your schedule. The next time you have this class is a couple days from now, and your class tomorrow isn't until the afternoon.

He sits back down, settling his laptop back in his lap, and turns off the alarm set to go off soon. He waits for the last few seconds. Then, he gets to work.

It's maybe 30 minutes later when you shift to get more comfortable and end up leaning against his shoulder. He pauses his typing for a moment, watching you. You look quite peaceful like this. Though, the dark bags under your eyes contradict that peace, describing it instead as utterly necessary with a secondary threat of what might happen if you don't get enough rest right now.

Maybe it's seeing you asleep that makes him yawn. Maybe it's the warmth and weight of you leaning into him that makes him acutely aware of his own exhaustion. Maybe it's just the late (or very early) hour.

Whatever it may be, Zayne's body refuses to keep looking at this screen and working.

He sighs quietly as he closes his laptop and sets it aside, his glasses with them. Fully relenting to the situation, Zayne closes his eyes and slowly falls asleep.

Come morning, your roommate wakes to find you both asleep on the couch. You have your head on Zayne's shoulder, and he has his head resting on yours. Your hands have somehow sought each other out, holding each other in his lap, which has some of the blanket strewn across it. She snaps several pictures, snickering to herself as she gets ready for her classes, already thinking up ways to tease you when you wake up.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko

#fanfic #fanfiction #zayne #zayne x reader #love and deepspace zayne #lads zayne #lnds zayne #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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noodle-is-unstable · 1 day ago

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Hi!!!! I hope your doing good 😚

I see that requests for the group chats are open so I decided to be brave and request something! If you don't want to do this don't even worry about it!

I was wondering if you could do a thing where they find your Sketchbook and its filled completely with drawings of the both of them, together and separate. (Established relationship if that's cool)

Thank you!!!

Proud of you for being brave 💖

The JJK Group Chat finds your sketchbook (Established Throuple)

Ft ~ Gojo x Reader x Geto, Toji x Reader x Shiu, Sukuna x Reader x Uraume, Nanami x Reader x Ino, Choso x Reader x Mahito

Synopsis ~ The JJK Group Chat finds your sketchbook

Content Warning ~ 18+, Crack as HELL, Suggestive, Language, no real Angst, a lil Fluff. I'm autistic IDK

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holorform2009 · 1 day ago

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Ya know what?

Sonic brainrot got the best of me

*Shoots you and grabs you, then yeets you into a blue portal*

This place feels familiar, isn't it..?

Have you seen this place before?

#Congratulations you have turned into a cat. A cute one at that #Sonic the hedgehog #Sega #Sonic the hedgehog x reader #Sonic #Platonic #art is mine #artist on tumblr #reader insert #gn reader #gender neutral reader #Child reader #Not yandere... Yet

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the-voice-beckons-below · 16 hours ago

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the end of the (red) line

bucky barnes x steve rogers x gn! reader

synopsis: red string au, in which a thread, invisible to others, tangles you and your soulmate together. you’ve been waiting a long time to meet the person at the other end, the problem is, they keep damaging the thread, leaving you unable to track them down.

warnings: angst (it’s a fic involving bucky, it’s to be expected), fluff, reader is down bad, mentions of death, self loathing, reader is technically an orphan (blame new york not me), big muscly super soldiers !! reader is confident!

word count : 2,928

this whole red string business had cost you many nights of sleep. all your friends had been lucky, bumping into their supposed soulmate in a store or cafe, or getting a new job and seeing a prominent string dangling from their coworker’s fingers.

see, it isn’t visible at all times, which is arguably less and equally more frustrating. there’s only certain times you can follow it, or tug on it if you’re impatient. there’s a possibility you walk past your fately betrothed and you’ll miss them, because the universe decides you’re not ready.

it’s been five years since it first showed up, looped around your fingers snuggly. it happened after a nightmare, which were all too common. witnessing the attack on new york first hand had been devastating, bodies upon bodies. screams and cries and families torn apart, including your own.

it was just you now, scattered in the vast expanse of the world like a drop in the ocean. friends were distractions, only so much could tackle the constant ebbing and aching deep within your chest. tucked away so far that it was normal, like it had always been there.

it was at a bar when the familiar red showed up, and in frustration, you yanked hard. standing up from the booth with your friends and determinedly walking to try once more. the bond was fickle, or maybe, it was just yours specifically. seemingly disappearing each time some ground was made, like someone had purposely cut it.

you learnt to be fast, coiling the thread and pacing swiftly. weaving through crowded streets on a winter’s eve, eyes narrowed and scrutinising. your lips dried at the cold air, and a small voice reminded you that the jacket you’d been wearing was still slumped in the bar’s booth. was it worth it? getting cold and also getting a dead end?

the trail never seemed to end, with each tug and pull, there was no resistance. leaving a yarn-like pile puddled at your feet. it could’ve been the frustration or exasperation that triggered the next moment, gripping onto the thin crimson and jerking it with every ounce of might you had.

it wasn’t noticeable at first, but steadily a burning littered your palms. for the very first time, you’d gotten rope burn from wrenching the thread.

there was also a man who was distinctively dishevelled, like he’d been displaced.

he was littered in crimson.

not only was it looped around him, it also continued from him. which was just too much to comprehend at the given moment, was it possible to be attached to multiple people?

the man whipped his head up, almost like he’d been shocked, and belatedly met eyes with you. locking with a shudder, his gaze was almost frantic.

at the same time, you both spoke, your voice edging on angry and confused. while the stranger’s seemed unbelievably stunned.

“you!”

in all years of imagining your future partner, you’d never expected them to be so…unfairly attractive. adorned with dull blonde locks, a sharp jaw and icy blue eyes that held a depth you hadn’t prepared for. he was tall, and built, gods he could crush you.

it almost cooled the anger in your veins.

“why did you keep cutting me off?” you snapped, fists clenching from anxiety this time. had they seen you before and decided you weren’t enough? could you be enough? why wait all this time? why sever the connection over and over?

“what?” he breathed, the air in his lungs fled. the blonde’s train of thought was completely dismantled, a flicker of hurt and confusion flooded his face. “that - that wasn’t you?”

steve still remembers when it appeared. just after his major transformation from frail to superhuman. the sight caused him to stutter, whole body feeling just as weak as he was before. immediately he’d gone to find peggy, hoping it was her, she was breathtaking. first woman to see him as someone, and who looked at him with a hint of softness that he melted for each time.

and he still remembers the way his heart had plummeted upon finding out his newly acquired string was not attached to peggy. it shattered a part of him, he’d never felt like this with anyone before, and yet peggy wasn’t the one. her bold lipstick would not litter his cheeks or lips, her soft yet strong hands would not rest in his own.

it was confusing.

but what was truly heartbreaking was finding out who it was attached to.

after rescuing bucky from hydra and finally having his best friend back, steve thought maybe it would be okay not to know the person on the other side of the string. him and buck would be alright if they had each other, his fondest and happiest of memories included barnes.

on that train, time stopped. bucky dangling from a scrap of metal, steel eyes terrified and begging for steve to haul him back up.

he couldn’t reach him. he tried, god he tried.

the worst part of it all had been seeing glimmering thread falling into the snow with his best friend. he’d found and lost his soulmate - best friend, at the exact same time. it was a good thing to have crashed that jet into the ice, he was content with it. knowing if there was an afterlife, buck would be there with open arms.

but that’s just not how it went.

instead he woke up from a presumably deadly sleep.

all he had ever known was gone, apart from peggy, who after a little while, was gone too.

thread was still attached to him, he felt it, it was heavy, dragging him down in what felt like every step. the weight was there, but he didn’t see it.

not until a masked assassin stood in his path, mask strewn across concrete. his beautiful bucky was alive, and almost unrecognisable with the torment that surrounded him.

he cried that night.

eventually, after he fought through what felt like hell, he’d pulled bucky back from the torturous programming he’d been under. they’d come to realise that their thread, ignited since the 40’s had changed, it went in another direction.

“multiple soulmates huh?” buck realised, if steve was observant enough, he would’ve seen the defeat in his former best friend’s (now lover’s) language.

“i don’t think it will be a bad thing, it’s, exciting.”

bucky’s bit his lip, “maybe.”

it had taken years to let steve in again. he was on edge all of the time, was real panicky too. spent so much time locked in his room, and went between eating so much his stomach hurt and not having an appetite at all. it felt undeserving to have what he wanted, to have a soulmate, to be potentially happy after what he’d done.

the lives he’d taken.

the guilt had crushed him, and the self hatred never dulled. he didn’t deserve steve, he was too good. too sweet, too soft. too, steve.

when it became clear that someone else was out there, linked to steve and him, he panicked. it had been hard enough coming to terms that steve didn’t hate him, didn’t blame him. no one else could get close, what if he hurt them? what if they took steve?

what if this string thing didn’t work out all the time? everything was fine with steve. he felt safer than ever, with a calm so alien to him.

it wasn’t purposeful, but whenever the other string popped up, every time he went to touch it, it frayed. like the bond didn’t want him.

time after time it dissolved after bucky touched it, no matter how gentle or rough, it vanished. it was humiliating. after a while he just swiped at it whenever it did reappear, wanting it gone. it was just there to insult him. of course it would fray when he touched it, it was naive of him to think that a killer, someone drenched in the blood of others, could be wanted.

steve would disagree of course.

steve loved him with every fibre of his being, so fiercely it was near startling. it was more than he deserved. every embrace was simultaneously his oxygen and his undoing.

captain america was righteous, strong. believed in bucky and nursed him back to ‘health’ as much as he could. rogers was more than a tight suit and a impenetrable shield. he was everything.

he knew that steve was searching for their other, other half. knew that he was excited to meet them, wanted to show bucky that it would be a good thing. steve hadn’t accounted for one thing, bucky’s fear.

bucky was internally petrified of losing his everything.

he swiped at the string over and over, and the guilt was way lesser than the fear.

the name you’d gotten was steve, you’d quickly texted your friends not to worry.

followed string, please hold onto that jacket, it’s my favourite. i’ll be sad if you lose it :(

he had ordered two coffees, “this may take a while.” the man wrung his hands nervously, it was mildly comforting to know you weren’t the only one with a pounding heart and a sweaty brow.

“you’re different than i thought you’d be.” it had come out in a splutter, scrounging for a conversation, it would be embarrassing to confess you just wanted to hear him talk more.

the raise in his brow only made your heart thud faster, eyes becoming half amused and half apprehensive. “how so? i’m sorry if uh, don’t cut it.”

you had practically interrupted him, “no - you’re just, i mean for one you’re captain america. makes sense why i couldn’t find you, you’ve probably been all over the place.” after years of pondering about your soulmate, finally coming face to face with one of them was exhilarating and overwhelming. and you couldn’t stop talking, spilling too many words. it was a wonder that he kept up. “and secondly, you cut it, how you look is borderline unfair to the general public.”

you had caught him off guard, and his laugh, it came from his chest. deep, rich and warm. “fighting takes you all over. i’m glad - that i cut it. been worrying that you were making it disappear, that you didn’t want to see me - us.”

mid sip, you halted. he drank his own coffee with a small smile. “you uh, know the other one?”

his lips quirked up more, a fondness shining in his pupils, “you could say that.” steve cleared his throat, thumbing the handle of the coffee cup, “i’ve known him my whole life,” he hesitated, “his name is bucky.”

everyone who’d paid attention to the news was aware who this ‘bucky’ was. captain america’s best friend who was taken in by hydra and brainwashed so severely he’d lost himself along the way, who was used as a weapon for a long, long time.

steve was prepared for a bad reaction, people weren’t always understanding when it came to buck. more often than not, they’d call him a killer or become uncomfortable. it made him incredibly protective, and he struggled to stay present in a conversation after judging bucky so poorly.

“you don’t need to be on edge you know.” you spoke, spotting the super soldier’s tense posture. “i know who he is,” you started carefully, sweeping across the expanse of steve’s face, “and anyone with a brain knows what happened to him, is not his fault.”

steve inhaled with a shaky, but relieved breath. “thank yo-“

“you don’t need to,” you cut in, “i’ve been waiting for years, for you, for you both technically.” a blush quickly swarmed your cheeks, and you broke the eye contact between the two of you. the rest of the sentence was silent, but steve would’ve decoded it as: i don’t give up so easily.

being connected by fate to one extremely attractive man was already hard to grasp. but two of them? it was almost sending you to an early grave. it was easy to see just from a small interaction that steve was sweet, protective, handsome and you were bound to him.

“he’s a tough nut to crack.” a part of you laughed at the innuendo, but outwardly, just managed to keep it in. “he’s probably worried, said i’d be back by 5, always make sure im never late.”

“trying to escape already?” you teased, before asking for his number. he fumbled around with his phone, shaking his head at your question. it was slightly endearing how steve’s fingers shook as he pulled up his contact details. despite the pair of you trying to appear confident, you were equally as nervous and giddy.

as soon as you finished inputting the information, the door to the cafe dinged, and in walked the reincarnation of sin itself. brown messy hair and the most hypnotising steel irises. red thread wrapped around the metal of his arm beautifully. you sucked in a breath, not out of fear of who bucky was, but the dawning realisation you were linked with perhaps the prettiest men on earth.

his face was hard set, pulled taut and serious. clinically, and methodically, he swept over the cafe until he found his target. the tension from the man visibly eased, enough so that he didn’t even clock the person sitting across from steve. who, if he had noticed, was staring at him unashamedly.

“it’s 6, you’re never late.” bucky narrowed his stare pointedly, quickly checking to see if steve was perhaps held back by an injury. when he found nothing, he almost looked offended.

steve’s lids fluttered at the timbre of his partners voice greeting him, “mhm.” amusement quickly overcame his expression, “well, i was busy.”

“busy with what?” bucky almost growled, frowning at the pleased glint present in steve’s pupils, and how his partner seemed smug. he was happy about not coming home? he’d been waiting at home like a damn dog, until noticing the string and following it to steve like he was on a mission. steve shifted to look at you, and couldn’t help the smile that burst from him. oh you were perfect. not afraid or judgmental of bucky at all, you instead looked all but ready to devour the ex assassin.

at steve’s silence, and sudden interest looking at something else, bucky cranked his head to the side. all words dying on his tongue the second he caught onto you, the string cocooning you and your ecstatic half crinkled eyes. “oh.”

“oh.” steve echoed with a poorly hidden smirk, anxiety tugging at his chest, waiting to see how bucky would react. it all depended on this moment.

it was basically a staring contest with the amount of eye contact between the two of you. it was like bucky was searching for something within you, trying to dig into your core and assess you. “this is an acceptable reason for being late.” and with that, he turned away.

steve sighed exasperated, “i’m sorry for him, that, that was rude buck.” back in the 40’s bucky was an unrivalled gentleman, polite to women and men alike. he was guarded, too much so. steve had desperately wanted to forge a connection with their third partner, and didn’t expect bucky to seem almost against it.

“don’t apologise for me.” he withheld a small scowl, flicking back and forth between steve and you. it didnt deter you, rationally maybe it should have, but you waited 5 years. you’d be damned if you gave up on the first hurdle. steve had said he was a ‘tough nut to crack’, so cracked he would be.

“it’s alright,” you waved steve’s concern off, “it’s good to meet you, years of waiting was worth it.” you raised your hand expectantly, bucky hesitated, until stubbornly wrapping his metal fingers around your flesh ones. the lack of alarm or fright from touching the metal limb had him faltering.

you truly weren’t affected by him or the history and baggage he carried.

with a confidence you weren’t sure you had, you leant closer, heart hammering at a speed that felt dangerous. slowly, and tentatively, you placed a tender kiss upon the back of the silver hand. bucky’s reaction was a sucked in breath and a sharp twitch in the prosthetic limb. it was almost as if he’d felt the sensation coursing through him. “i am sorry for keeping your partner, do forgive me.”

“i’ll think about it.” his stoic facade was ruined by the smallest lopsided lift of his lips. all three of you had trouble slowing your pulses, all frantic and strangled by adrenaline. “here again, tomorrow at 2.” he all but demanded, pulling away and walking towards steve.

“bucky! you can’t just - buck!” the blonde groaned, jumping at bucky interlinking their hands and dragging him away. before he was completely swept, steve fumbled through his wallet and laid money on the table for the coffees, “i hope tomorrow at 2 is convenient.”

“i’ll think about it.” you replied, slyly laughing at steve before he disappeared through the glass cafe door.

there was no doubt about it, they would cram into every space hidden within your head, without any resistance. one interaction with them both, and you were a goner.

you leant into your hands, muffling the borderline painful grin painted on your face. after a moment, you turned on your phone, sending the fastest text.

you are never going to believe this, i’m coming back for my jacket, and for drinks.

your index hovered over the new contact in your phone, and before you could think it through, you typed away.

you both cut it ps. do you or bucky want flowers or chocolates?

a/n: so i started this fic today, and it was meant to be a very short one, more of a drabble than anything. i’ve become more attached than initially expected, and it became a longer fic. divider credits are me just in case anyone was about to ask about them, i might post them!! i think i need some more to do a batch though.

i don’t normally see more confident readers/a mix of flustered and confident, and i’m not sure how well received it will be because of that. i hope there’s people that can appreciate a cheeky hand kiss and a little bit of flustered steve and bucky. reader would spoil them both, gifts and open affection, would be so supportive and protective, steve and bucky would end up so possessive of them in return.

i hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it !! merry early christmas <33

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onekeii · 22 hours ago

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We can eat the snow

Day 3: Kissing in the snow | Accelerated heartbeat Genshin Impact: Xiao x GN!Reader Warnings/Genre: light angst, fluff, reader has self-esteem issues, not proof read Word count: 942 AN: i haven't played genshin in like 2 years but i love xiao

Read on AO3

Your mysterious Yaksha companion never gave you a break. Danger was always around the corner with him, and you started to think your body couldn’t produce adrenaline anymore. Or maybe you were just high on it all the time. Today was no different.

“Xiao!” You call out after running down the inn’s many stairs. He’s not standing too far, back facing you as he stares at the fresh snow thinly veiling the ground. “What is it this time?” You say exasperatedly. It’s not that you don’t care, but running after him like this all the time, finding him contemplative after defeating the threat before you could even lift your own sword, was exhausting. Why do you stick around? Why does he bother to keep you around?

He doesn’t respond. It’s unlike him. Xiao’s usually too on edge to let anything slip past him, or maybe he was ignoring you unintentionally. You curse under your breath as you take careful steps towards him, your foot slips on a particularly wet and icy patch but you dig your sword into the ground, you find your balance again. Always a fight to get closer to him, huh? You laugh to yourself.

Finally, you reach him in one piece, and ask again, more nonchalantly this time, “Whatcha doing?” Yeah, you’re totally chill right now, you think. Except you’re only chill in the sense that it’s cold, and you forgot to put on an extra layer when you ran out to find Xiao. You grimace - at the cold and at your stupidity.

When he turns around, his eyes aren’t dark and brooding like always. They’re wide and shining and a brighter gold than you’ve ever seen before. He’s holding a clump of snow in his gloved hand, close to his face, his cheeks puffed out as innocently as a squirrel. Xiao swallows - what, you don’t know - and finally responds, “Eating.”

Your eyes search over him once more; he’s holding nothing but the snow. When you peer over his shoulder, you can see where he’s dug it straight out of the ground. Your vision tilts, “The snow?!” you exclaim.

“...Yeah?” He takes another bite. Xiao has mused about eating snow before, but you could never take the childish fantasies of an immortal so seriously. Forgetting how slippery the ground was beneath you, your quick step forward (in a valiant and sick attempt to knock the snow out of Xiao’s hand) did not land. Instead, your heel just kept slipping forward, then it was arcing in the air, and your limbs were too numb with cold to move quick enough. You slipped. In your shock, grief, stress, you slipped . You shut your eyes and braced for impact.

Woosh , a warm arm wrapped around the back of your waist, pulling you away from your terrible fate written in the ice. Of course Xiao is the one who caught you. Opening your eyes, a breath hitches in your throat at how close his face is to yours, you can feel his breath against your chin, and it’s… It’s cold from the goddamn snow.

“You’re so strange,” you scoff. You’re very much safe from falling now, but Xiao doesn’t let you go or help you to your feet. He just stares at you longer, his gold eyes wide and unfazed still. When you start nervously looking beyond him, he finally says, “Your heart is beating so fast. Are you that cold?”

Indeed, it’s pulsing violently in your chest right now, desperately pumping blood to your freezing skin. It’s thumping so loud you can feel it behind your eyes and in your stomach, setting your blood on fire, urging you to do something stupid. Doesn’t he realise how his grip around your waist burns? That you might want to feel even more of him against your icy skin?

He’s still holding onto the dwindling pile of snow in his free hand, swallowing yet another mouthful. This side of him was absurd, ‘normal’ was not the right word - normal people did not eat snow - but it was so… mundane? Wide eyes and puffed cheeks and a disturbing curiosity suited him surprisingly well. It was cute. How could Xiao be cute?

Fuck it, you think, I can always leave tomorrow. You hook one arm around the back of his neck and close the gap, catching his lips in yours.

But he pulls away instantly. Ouch, he could have at least been shocked for a moment. You breathe a sigh, thinking up your dramatic escape. At least that weight was off your chest now. Xiao doesn’t let go of you, though, and you’re reduced to staring at him awkwardly once again. His brows are creased but he’s not angry with you, maybe confused? You’d rather he was angry, then it would be easier to walk away.

Then your back falls into the snowy ground, clothes already soaked through, “Thanks,” you snark and try to sit up, but Xiao’s eyes are in front of yours once more. His cold, gloved hand (it’s no longer holding the snow!) pushes you down by the shoulder, traces down the side of your arm and intertwines with your own hand. Xiao’s knees are planted either side of your leg and he’s hovering over you completely, blocking any light or sky from your view. There’s only him.

And there’s only his lips on yours. Again. For longer, much longer, this time. He moves slowly, with uncertainty, unlike his usual grace in battle. You cup his cheek and welcome this surprise, just like he welcomes your tongue when you ask. Xiao’s mouth is still frozen from the cold, but you’ll soon change that.

@12daysofchristmas

If you enjoyed, please consider helping out by dropping a reblog or follow ☆

#12daysofchristmas #xiao x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin xiao #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #self insert #reader insert #gn reader #gender neutral reader

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auroracalisto · 1 day ago

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day #21: winter proposal

benedict bridgerton x gn!reader, 1k words a/n: listening to christmas music as i write this. hope it shows. or not. idk. <3 also??? does anyone know the terry's oranges you can only get around christmas? i love them. i make a tradition out of buying one every single year. THAT BEING SAID YOU LIKE ORANGES IN THIS FIC. it's self-indulgent. i'd say i'm sorry but i'm not. if you want a pt 2 let me know cuz i could totally do it tw: not entirely historically accurate (yes it's bridgerton) BUT i have a reason. i started writing this and only researched halfway through what the cost of a chocolate would be during the 1810s and little history lesson for you but europe didn't have access to chocolate until it was brought over from central america IN the 1810s, and then it spread all over. it wouldn't have a substaintial processor until like... the 1850s. so um. we're going to pretend for this fics sake that i didn't totally muck it up and chocolate processors were everywhere during this time. thanks spooky pookies

The season of the 'ton has come and gone, leading the socialites to a rather dreary winter. Balls were still held, dinners still attended, but the chill of the air haunted every hall and home.

Unless they were imported or dried, fruits and certain vegetables were hard to come by. The markets were compact with the exception of said dried goods and chocolates from the heart of European society.

One good in particular was one that continued to catch a certain Bridgerton's eye—the little chocolates meticulously crafted to look as if they were made from an orange and even had a hint of orange taste. He didn't truly know how they did it, but he cared little—what he cared about was that he knew you had mentioned liking them some time ago.

He managed to get his hands on a few just the other day.

Despite it being after the proper season, he found himself seeking out your comfort and conversation at any moment he had been given—his mother found it endearing and supported his wants. After all, perhaps there was something to be said in developing a friendship before a marriage. She, herself, had married her best friend once upon a time. She'd like to see that in her children, if they could manage (her sons especially—she knew it would be harder for her daughters to do the same).

So, to get you to the Bridgerton manor without causing some kind of scandal, Benedict convinced his mother and brother, Anthony, to host a dinner for his family and yours.

Your parents agreed in typical fashion, and you were at the Bridgerton's in a matter of days. Dressed warmly, dressed as if you had something to show off for (you did, but you wouldn't confess to that), you entered the front door where Anthony, Benedict, and their mother greeted you and your family. The rest of Violet's children were just behind them, but they smiled mildly as they usually did.

Benedict greeted you with a kiss to your knuckles and a smile on his handsome face.

"It is a pleasure to see you again," he softly said, your name leaving his lips soon after.

"To you as well," you answered, unable to hide your smile.

Violet shared a knowing look with your parents. It was almost as if everyone was just waiting for what they knew would happen. The way the two of you looked at each other was almost frustrating—how could the two of you not just marry when you both clearly adored each other?

Dinner went well. Honey glazed ham, tarts with dried apples and strawberries, breads baked with selective flours and grains. You truly couldn't complain about the spread before you.

At some point or another, Benedict had dragged you to the drawing room, hand in hand.

"I've something to give you," he said, smiling back at you. "I saw it and I knew I had to buy them. I couldn't pass them up."

Your eyes widened a bit. "What? You didn't have to get me a thing, Benedict," you said. "I need for nothing."

"Perhaps," Benedict said, grinning all the while. He let go of your hand and with long strides, he was across the drawing room to where he had kept the box of chocolates for you. He then brought them back, holding the box to you.

You watch him warily for only a moment before you opened the box. Your heart nearly lurched in your throat as you looked up at him.

"These—Benedict, these must have cost you a fortune!"

"Rubbish," he said, watching you with happy eyes. "It truly wasn't much. I would buy even more if I hadn't bought the rest of what they had."

"You did not!" you exclaimed, holding the box tightly. "Oh, Benedict, this is—you are so kind. How can I ever repay you?" you asked, smiling all the while.

He chuckled softly. "Your friendship is enough repayment for me, dear Y/n," he said.

You sat the box down and reached forward, taking his hands in yours. "There must be something I could do for you," you said, eyes sparkling with mirth, and a little something that Benedict could only recognize as adoration. He knew that look well.

He watched you, lips parting as the words died on his lips. "Well, you..."

"Yes?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "It is foolish. I couldn't..."

"Benedict," you softly said. "We are already causing scandal enough just by being here in your drawing room with no chaperone. Truly, whatever you have to say, I want to hear."

He blinked slowly. You were right. Here you were, alone together, with no one to watch over you. To see what was happening. To see if you were doing wrong.

He licked his lips, peering down at you as he found his words.

"I could buy these for you, every winter season, you know," he said, a smile forming on his lips once more. He smiled quite a bit around you. He couldn't help it.

He loved you.

"Oh?" you asked, tilting your head at his words.

"All I'd need from you for repayment is your hand in marriage."

You paused—did you hear him right?

"Perhaps I should have a ring, or ask you during the marriage season, but truly, Y/n, I—"

"—I feel like the chocolates are close enough to a ring," you interrupted him.

He snorted softly. "I beg your pardon?"

"You bought them, for me. You saw them and thought of me. I do believe that warrants a proper proposal, does it not?"

There it was—one of the many reasons he loved and adored you.

He leaned forward and would have kissed you had it not been for the knock at the drawing room door.

In walked Violet, and Benedict quickly looked over, wide eyed.

"I wondered where the two of you were," Violet said, suspiciously watching the two of you. "Well? Did I give you enough time to find an answer, Benedict, or will you marry them due to scandal?"

His eyes widened. Had his mother planned this? He paid no mind, smiling her way.

"I do believe we should plan for a wedding, mother," he said. "And perhaps a proper ring, yes?"

"Yes," you said, your own smile mirroring his. "It would be good to start."

Violet returned the smile. "Good," she said. "Now, come back and join the party. Your father, dear Y/n, has just made a fool of himself with an apple tart."

#christmas #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #violet bridgerton #reader insert #x reader #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #reader #fanfic #bridgerton x reader #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fic

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slay00ryu · 2 days ago

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KC cast with a reader who makes songs about them or their murder

A singer and their song.

A short list of Headcanons for each love interest.

Ronin

Playing: Judas by Lady Gaga

Ronin was fascinated by the sound of your songs, he found himself listening to them on repeat. He could admire the feelings you were pouring into the lyrics and every sound.

When he discovered that you were writing a song inspired by him he was even more captivated by the music. "Is this how I sound to you, darling?" He would ask when you were presenting the music itself.

His songs were loud, fast, aggressive in a way. They were pure chaos, but that chaos was controlled just like Ronin. He was a chaotic serial killer, yet he kept control over his life.

The songs you were basing him off were mostly metal or rock songs, the bands you picked out were Slipknot, Black Sabbath, Korn. You used some emo bands too, you couldn't forget about Lady Gaga, Judas, Monster and Disease were just screaming Ronin for you.

Ronin was a regular guest at your concerts, he was usually in the first rows or on the backstage, watching you with admiration as you put on a show worthy of being a devil's worship.

"Come on darling, play me a song." Is a regularly used phrase by Ronin, mostly to get on your nerves, sometimes because he actually yearns to hear your song.

Angel

Fruits by Paris Paloma

Angel was in awe of your music, even before she discovered that song about her. She loved the melodies, lyrics and the emotions that she could feel in every sound.

When you played her that piece inspired by her, Angel felt like she was falling for you all over again. The sound was so beautiful, yet there was some darkness laced under the sweetness, she could feel her soul being wrapped by every new note.

The melodies you wrote for Angel were sweet, just like how she presented herself in front of people, as a sweet model with an adorable smile, but under all that sweetness there was poison and your music reflected that. You mixed her sweetness with the murderous nature, creating sounds that left people wondering what was true and what was false.

The songs that inspired you were mostly Paris Paloma's songs like Labour (because of it's meaning), Penelope Scott's music, you mixed it all with pop artists like Sabrina Carpenter or Chappell Roan, making the mirage of the songs being just pop music.

Angel not only goes to every single concert (if time lets her of course) she also talks about your music on her channel, recommending her fans to see your music live too.

Whenever you spend time together, you will play Angel a song, it's a form of quality time for the two of you, she is relaxing and you can be her background noise.

Misaki

Playing: Heavy Metal Lover by Lady Gaga

Misaki is your biggest fan, they're blasting your music daily, bragging about how talented her partner is to the server. They're proud of you for the music you create.

When they discovered the music about themselves, they were squealing like a little kid, jumping all around their house like a kid and giggling.

Their sound was fast, just like they are. It was mostly songs that felt exciting, they gave of that childlike happiness that most people lost. The sound you wrote for them was showing their escapism perfectly, they were escaping from their problems by acting like a teenager, and it reflected in your music.

The artists you were mostly inspired by when it came to the sound without the music meaning's were Chappell Roan, some Lady Gaga's songs, even Olivia Rodrigo.

Misaki was ready to save money just to go to your concerts, they loved the energy hearing your music live gave them, and seeing you on that stage? That was also something Misaki would never complain about. her partner's hot and she's not ashamed to admit it.

They plead you during every call to play them a song, and you give in. Who wouldn't want to make their partner happy? Especially when they're just so excited like Misaki is.

Playing: Strangers in The Night by Frank Sinatra

V has a strong admiration for your music, he is proud to a be witness to your artistic soul's creations. He appreciates the time and effort you put into music greatly.

When you played him one of the newest pieces you wrote about him, V was flustered. He would never expect anything like this, but his admiration for your art was much deeper now, after all he was a part of it now.

V's sound was serious, but soft around the edges, just like your vigilante. It was a mix of classical music and jazz, two things you knew that V enjoyed the most.

The artists that inspired your pieces about V when it came to classical music were Beethoven and Tchaikovsky, fr the jazz ones it was mostly Frank Sinatra.

V would be at your every concert and if he couldn't be at one he would find the video recordings of your shows just to watch them.

V doesn't ask you to play him anything, but he does appreciate it when you do, finding the sound truly peaceful.

#killer chat #killer chat ronin #misaki killer chat #angel killer chat #v killer chat #asks #fluff #gender neutral reader #headcanons

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