#I don't usually draw heavy dark things but I want to this year. So here you go: trauma!!!

[johnnyshrine]

★ 013 // “The Wrong Son”

[good-night-space-kid]

Just because you've mentioned it a couple times... Can we see the WWII era army field jacket it sounds really cool 🥺👉👈

Ask and ye shall receive! I'm super excited about it so lets go. I'm only 5'2 and pretty petite overall, so I never find things that fit me but I found it at an estate sale for $44 which is actually a steal because they usually sell for around $200 and I've been looking for a good windproof coat that I can comfortably wear layers under. Also the pockets are huge. I don't have any connection to the former owner, but I am going to leave the name tag on it as I fear it has been unevenly sun bleached and it completes the look anyways.

This specific jacket style is actually one that I have a bit of personal history with lol. I have a side blog so I don't post about it on here, but back in 2020 I was obsessed with Band of Brothers and it was also around the same time that I came to terms with being trans and started thinking about what I wanted to look like in the future, and it turns out the achievable answer to that question is Donnie Wahlberg as Carwood Lipton 😂 Honestly that could go for anybody in that show, but Lipton is 100% the most likely body type for me in 15 years given my family history. In BoB, they wear this jacket or ones very similar during a lot of the episodes because it was pretty standard issue. I've attached proof. Mine doesn't have any of the patches other than the name though, which I don't think their have.

If you're interested in specifics, what I have is an M1943/M-43 field jacked produced for the US Army in 1943. I attached a photo of the label below because I think it's fun that it includes all these little details. It's partially coming off, so I need to sew it back on. It was meant to be worn over a pile jacket or other insulated layer, so it's not super insulated.

It's apparent too dark in my room for photos even with all the lights on, but this is what the inside looks like. It's mostly canvas and has this draw string so you can tighten it on the waist. I have it tied off, but probably should tighten it tbh. I attached another photo to show how it looks tied where it is.

This is how it looks open (ignore that i have something heavy in the one pocket lol). It's missing a button on the opening, and there would normally be an extra button on each cuff to tighten the cuffs more, and I plan on ordering some new ones to replace those. The jacket is a little big on me as well, but as you can see in the above photos they are supposed to be layered under and fit pretty loose, even on the shoulders.

There a couple different ways you can button it to have the collar lie differently. I love in North Dakota and it's very cold and windy so I wear a hat and scarf everywhere so this is my most commonly used configuration

You can also wear the collar button further up. I didn't tuck the end of the collar in on the mid button, whoops. Fully button it comes up about to my chin (as it should) so it does offer decent wind protection even without a scarf.

Overall it's turned out to be pretty perfect! It fits really nice and is very comfortable to layer under and has big pockets, which is pretty much all of the criteria I wanted in a new (to me) coat. It doesn't have a hood, but I could find one if I wanted. It's surprisingly windproof, which you definitely need in North Dakota, so it's working great as a lightweight cold weather jacket!

[tomyo]

Sonic and The Black Knight

There is something depressingly stressful that I've managed to run through about half of my Sonic games while sort of making it through one of my HM games for this challenge I've set myself on. Maybe that's for the best considering any given Sonic game I could want usually doesn't cost more than $15 while most Harvest Moon games can hit the 40s (we're talking DS era ones). By their nature, they are two widely different gameplay styles but it really hits that the two Wii games I'm going through (Black Knight and Animal Parade) have a average play time difference of 3 1/2 hours to 60 hours.

Yes, a whole home console game is THAT short. I am not saying that isn't a common occurrence for Sonic games to be quick and finish able very fast but having gotten through over half the story in less than two hours, I'm surprised how light it is.

Sonic is summoned, he's given the lore through two stages, separates from Merlina to go to the black smith for another 4 levels, spends about 8 with Nimue alongside her secret second test, and by then it's revealed that he needs to collect all 3 swords from his opponents of Arthur's court (two of which you already got). I'm already down to the last ~3 of the story in which (spoilers for a 15 year old game) I fight Gawain, fight Arthur, and face Merlina who I guess just isn't here?¿? I think that's the most surprising given how prominent she felt. Really Caliburn is your guide character in this game and he really does trigger the Soul Eater comparison using Fool a little too frequently.

I'm still happy to have gotten the game for the sake of my little shipper heart. At the same time, I've been streaming Sonic Adventure daily for the sake of aesthetics and have had to struggle explaining my feelings on Amy's character and her relationship to Sonic. Yapping into the aether of my surprisingly active chat that I stand by Sonic and Amy are officially unofficial is HARD to do without hitting twenty other hot takes. Black Knight takes place at peak for the mini arc of their relationship; Sonic accepts a date with Amy in Unleashed and this games interrupts said date alongside the dubious canon of Dark Brotherhood and Amy's fake boyfriend arc. He even had bought food for the two of them in the opening cinematic only for all of that to be undone by Generations :').

Gameplay wise, I don't have much to say. It's one of the most waggle heavy games. My attempts to properly fight bosses was met with finding out aggressive waggle was the actual goal. The idea of the game play is fun but I'm less certain with the actual execution. But what I think best sells this game is the art; more beautiful and atmospheric cgs, a mixture of Gaelic knots in a frutegar style, cutscenes based on woodblocks, and gorgeous music for that dumb part of me still thinking it's special to say I'm Irish. The gallery is full of great bits to unlock especially since there are 3 fanart videos of submitted art. I feel a lot of things since this was around my entry point into the online fandom; shit I missed submitting stuff, of course the JP artists are higher quality drawings, and I think I recognize some of the USA art.

Sonic and the Black Knight is what I would call solid. It's compact but what's there is good. Because of this backlog adventure/sonic catch up challenge, I'm grateful for that. I only have so much time for games and short isn't always bad.

[my-favourite-zhent]

New Tricks

Well the votes are in and it seems to be overwhelmingly in the favour of chapter releases~

Current chapter is fairly tame but we will eventually hit that NC-17 rating. Fair warning this ending up to be much more plot heavy than I initially anticipated.

Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5

Status: Work In Progress Version: 1.01 Pairing: Rugan x AFAB!OC Rating: NC-17 (eventually, this chapter is fairly PG-13) Genre: Adventure/Romance Summary:

“Who the hells are you?” The elf turned to size up the duo. “Family from out of Baldur's Gate.” Rugan supplied. “Ah, Zarys' crew. She said you were halfway competent.” “Probably the closest thing to a compliment we’ll draw out of her.” Muttered Rugan.

Beware of an old man in a profession where men usually die young. 

Being the Southern Deliveries Manager for the Baldur's Gates Zhentarim is not an easy job. Between mentoring new recruits, juggling vicious coworkers and whip-cracking bosses, bandits are the least of Rugan's troubles. An encounter with a charming stranger on the job serves to only complicate his life all the more.

Table of Contents

Read Here on AO3 or below the cut~

New Tricks - Chapter One

The run between Elturel and Baldur's Gate was a common one. Rugan must have done it a thousand times before, though rarely with the full Gate crew. 

The reason for the entourage had become clearer upon collecting their package in Elturel. Zarys had brusquely informed the company that instead of returning to the Gate they'd now be turning north up the Trade Way. All the way north in fact, to the venerable Waterdeep.

Boareskyr Bridge was quiet this early in the morning. Their caravan had set out at dawn, when the bustle of its impromptu market would not start for another hour or two.

In the sky the Companion could still be seen hanging above distant Elturel, a second sun to light the way.

“No more protection from undead this far out.” Olly muttered somberly as he looked at the ever shrinking Companion.

“Ah take heart lad. Few skeletons ain't nothing to worry about. They don't even have the brains to outwit Brem; an easy task as ever there was.” Rugan gave one of his most charming smiles and Olly chuckled in response.

“S’ppose you're right.”

“Oy! Can hear you up here Rugan!” Brem shouted from the front of the caravan. This gave them both a laugh as they followed behind the wagon on horseback.

“Zarys,” Bellar began and Rugan felt in his gut that whatever came next would surely raise her ire. “last I checked we managed the Southern deliveries.”

“How astute of you Bellar.” Sarcasm dripped from Zarys’ clipped tones.

“So then why in the hells are we going to Waterdeep? Management realizes Waterdeep is north right?”

“It's a very special delivery, lady Urmbrusk herself. Even you should be able to understand that.”

Somewhere from the front of the caravan Rugan could hear Brem bark a laugh of his own. He could tell Bellar was straining not to bite something back.

It was no secret among the Zhents that the Urmbrusks were in their debt. Any work for the Urmbrusks was in reality a job tasked by upper management, perhaps even Zhentil Keep or Manshoon himself.

“Lad does have a point.” He chipped in before Bellar could. “Highly unusual request.”

“Northern team didn't have the men to spare,” Zarys continued, giving Rugan a pointed look. “besides they'll have a delivery to Baldur's Gate for our return trip. And weren't you the one that wanted a change of scenery, Rugan?”

“I was thinking more like Amn, follow along the coast. Some nice sea breeze.” Rugan lilted the last bit. “But I'll enjoy the sights here well enough.” 

What he didn't like was not having a northern guide when none of the other crew had even done the route before.

‘Haven't done this route myself in nigh on ten years.’ He thought to himself, but it would do no good to voice those thoughts when Olly was still spooked. He met Zarys' eyes from where she sat in the back of the wagon and could tell she had gleaned his thoughts on the matter.

“Northern team has given their assurances that we shouldn't have much trouble.” She answered his unspoken thoughts.

‘Sure not much trouble, and Roah Moonglow is a templar of Torm.’ Another thought unspoken.

“Ah well then, nothing to worry about eh lads? Now how's about a song to make the work go faster.” He clapped Olly oh the back who only shook his head but smiled all the same.

“What about Dark Dark Wood?” Suggested Bellar cheekily.

“You want to sing that on the road?” Asked Rugan, utterly exasperated. The whole point was to raise spirits.

“Might scare off any bandits!”

“Nah, were doing a proper song, Red Roof Girls-”

“No.” Zarys vetoed, tone dark.

“Not a lick of fun, the lot of you.” Rugan sighed and shook his head in exaggerated fashion. He noticed that aside from Zarys the members of the company were all working to hide grins. 

“Here, I know a better one then.”

Zarys had not heard Jonstan the Rover before, so Rugan had managed to get through a whole stanza before she forbade singing of any kind altogether. 

The trip had been quiet after that but there wasn't a frown to be found. Unless you counted Zarys, and even hers seemed feigned to Rugan's trained eye. The old Zhent counted this a roaring success.

‘Now let's just try and survive the journey.’

+++++

“Not much trouble.” Rugan muttered bitterly as he sat crouched behind the remnants of an overturned wagon. 

They had been on the road three ten-day since the bridge and had already encountered several ghouls, two groups of bandits and now this.

He turned to Bellar who was squatting beside him. “Does this look like not much trouble to you?”

“Looks like a bloody Harper ambush.” Bellar spat.

“Aye, it's got that feel to it. Bandits wouldn't be so careless with their fire around the cargo.”

Olly slid over from his hiding place behind a rock, basket of fire flasks in hand. “This should do it.”

“Good thinking lad.” With a grunt of effort Rugan hurled a bottle over the wagon and heard it crash on the other side. He grinned in satisfaction when a chorus of screams followed. Bellar followed suit to similar effect.

“And just where in the hells is our mage?” Barked Rugan. “Shouldn't he be slinging spells right about now?”

“Archers got Sal first when it broke out, it's like they knew who to look for.” Supplied Olly helpfully. 

“I bet I know who gave them that little tidbit.” Snorted Bellar, peeking through a small crack between the boards. “See that girl there? The one trying to stop her friend from bleeding out?”

“Aye,” Rugan was squinting but he could make her out. “looks a tad familiar.”

“That's because she's the one who was all over your cousin back at the inn in Elturel.” 

“By the nine hells Brem.” He cursed. “Alright we need to kill her and burn the body before she can give up his loose tongue or Zarys will have his hide.”

Bellar scoffed. “He's your cousin not mine.”

“As usual I have to do everything myself around here.” Rugan muttered, grabbing another bottle. 

A scream rang out before he could toss and he turned just in time to see Olly drop back into a crouch behind the wagon, bow in hand. “Killed her.” The boy preened.

Glancing back through the crack Rugan saw the blood spurting from the eye socket where Olly's arrow was buried.

“Good shot lad. I owe you a drink.”  Rugan cheered with a hearty clap on the back.

“I suppose what you meant to say was: as usual, Olly does all your heavy lifting.” Bellar chuckled.

“Oh aye.” Rugan waved him off before continuing. “The trio of archers behind that log are the last of the ranged I think. We can approach without getting hit if we rush them with what remains of the wagon bottom.”

“You've got to be joking.”

“We're three strapping lads, we can manage. Let’s see you do some of the lifting for once Bellar.” Rugan grunted as he slipped his hands under the lip of the planks. Olly and Bellar followed suit.

“On three.”

As Rugan had predicted they managed to heft the broken remnants of the wagon’s floor and charge their quarry. The thick wooden planks caught the few whizzing arrows and they dropped it with great effort as they reached the rock. The run had winded them but at close quarters the archers had no hope against Rugan and Bellar's sword work. The first two were cut down in mere moments. One tried to make a run for it and Olly loosed an arrow into his back.

The battle was swiftly over after that. The rest of the Zhents quickly mopping up any stragglers and Rugan casually dropping a fire flask on the corpse of the spy.

“Oops, butter fingers.” He lied when one of the other Zhents gave him a questioning look.

“How's it looking Zarys?” He approached as she was giving orders to a pair of grunts.

“No casualties, I heard you actually did some good work for once.” Her arms crossed as she surveyed the battlefield.

“Sal?”

“Arrow pierced his lung, was uncertain for a spell there but Brem was able to get him a potion in time. How's the cargo?”

“One wagon was smashed by their caster, lost four crates of spirits. Urmbrusk case is secure however.”

“Suppose we should be thankful, management would skin our hides if we lost it.” She snorted derisively.

“But it's probably what attracts all this attention.” Rugan supplied her unspoken thought. Despite Zarys' outward hostility, the pair had known each other a long time and understood each other better than most.

“Well we're almost there so no point whinging about it now.” She turned to bark orders to the rest of the team. “Get to packing what you can on the remaining wagons, I want to make Waterdeep by nightfall. Anyone falls behind gets left behind!”

Rugan made his way back to the other two, both hastily loading what goods they could.

Olly glanced up at his approach. “Looks like Bellar was right.” He opened his hand to reveal a small pin that resembled a harp across a crescent moon.

“Not surprised.” Rugan exhaled. “Damned Harpers are always interfering in our business.”

“And,” Added Bellar. “I'm always right.”

“Be a good lad and give that to Zarys, Olly.” Rugan gestured in her direction with a tilt of his head.

“Right!” The boy trotted off without a second thought.

Rugan couldn't have asked for a better recruit than Olly and honestly dreaded the lad’s eventual advancement. Wouldn't be able to find a replacement lackey half as good if he scoured the whole Sword coast.

“Good lad.” Bellar commented about the retreating figure.

“Aye.” Rugan agreed.

“Too good, you're gonna have to beat that selflessness out of him sooner or later. It won't do him any good if he doesn't think to serve his own self-interest first and foremost.”

Rugan snorted. “You'd think he'd learn that by now just watching me.”

“Well, problem is you're not particularly successful. So it's probably not sticking.”

Rugan stared at Bellar, devoid of humour. “Get to packing, you.”

Working on a longer Rugan fic that the scope of which has kind of gotten a way from me. Posted the first chapter to AO3 but now second-guessing myself. On one hand I'd like to start releasing chapters for feedback/criticism as it helps me stay motivated as well as fixing issues (even though I don't exactly write them sequentially) but on the other I find myself going back and adjusting earlier plot points and scenes if I find things aren't working out in the later sections which could be confusing to a returning reader.

[papimolina]

With the Stroke of a Brush

Maxim Horvath X F!Reader

Chapter 1, Complete stranger

Ch 2,

Rating: Mature

WC: 2508

Summary: Having worked as an artist for the past 3 years now, you'd never had a block like this before.

Soulmates, soul bonding, kissing, (a world where magic is normal)

"Why am I so bad!?..." you grumbled to yourself, as you grimaced at your drawing.

You had been sketching for hours now and it just wasn't coming together how you wanted.

For the past few weeks you'd been stuck on the same piece of artwork and it was beginning to get really frustrating. Having worked as an artist for the past 3 years now, you'd never had a block like this before.

Yawning, you look over at your clock. 12:25AM.

Time for bed I guess.

Having achieved practically nothing, you gather your now empty bottle of wine, and lock up your studio for the night. Dumping the bottle you go straight to your bedroom, realising how tired you are having finally given up your concentration. Discarding your clothes on the floor and slumping heavily on your bed, you drift off into your usual dreamless sleep.

Normally when you've left a piece of art unfinished overnight it looks better to you the next time you see it. Apparently not this time. Everything is wrong. Every line, every highlight...wrong. Luckily you still had 3 months before this piece was supposed to be for sale but it irritated you nonetheless that it should've been completed a week ago.

Maybe no wine today, see if that helps.

...

Shiny black shoes...stripped dark trousers. Lifting your head up further, slowly. The end of...a stick...a cane and...the bottom of a long grey jacket...further up a...dark suit jacket matching the trousers

...

*THUD*

"What!?" Jolting awake, you'd knocked your pencil tub off the table in your sleep, the pencils were scattered all around your feet. You let out a heavy breath that you didn't realise you'd been holding and rested your head in your hands.

What was that?

Your stomach deciced to announce itself at that moment. Distracting you from your strange dream, you leave your studio having added very little to your drawing again.

...

Silver headed cane with...blue stones...a silk brown tie adorned with a decorative brooch...up to a white shirt collar

...

The last thing you see is a glimpse of a dark beard before your eyes shoot open.

What the hell! ... Who is that!?

Your body seems to have reacted like you were having a nightmare. A layer of sweat on your skin making your bed sheets stick to your body, slighty out of breath and yet you didn't feel scared.

I don't know anyone who dresses in a suit...do I?...what time...? Oh god, I've been asleep for an hour! You thought angrily.

The second you let your eyelids fall again you are greeted be piercing chocolate brown eyes staring right back at you and your own eyes fly open.

Okay, this is a little scary now.

Feeling wide awake and slightly unnerved you decide to get up and go to your studio to start something new.

Without thinking you let the tip of your blue pencil flow along the paper, up and down, darkening here and there. You add some blue and black paint to really darken in places you thought needed it. Slowly piecing together the man in your dream. You really should try to just forget about your dream but you couldn't seem to get those eyes out of your mind. Maybe this was a way of getting it out and then the dreams would stop. It was a strange feeling, you felt almost pressured to draw this person.

Why? ... Why do I feel so obligated to paint him?

Standing back, you look at the rough edges of your sketch, eyeing up every pencil line.

And why do I like it?

Since you'd hated your work recently, this was a surprise to you that you felt proud of what you'd drawn so far. But your joy gave way to disappointment when you realised that you wouldn't be able to finish it because you hadn't seen his face. Slightly hesitantly, you close your eyes and are greeted by...nothing.

Nothing...wait.

Shoes slowly appear in your mind. You try to think about looking up his body like before but nothing happens. With your eyes still closed, you slowly lower yourself to the floor and lay down on your back. You focus on the shoes and relax your body, trying to simulate a sleepy state to bring your dream to life again. As your breathing begins to slow, your eyes drift up his suit painfully slowly. Oddly you begin to feel excited as you reach the bottom of his beard again, finally starting to see the part you'd been missing. Just as you reach his rosy lips you register a distant tapping but you ignore it, being so focused on seeing his face. But again...

*TAP TAP TAP*

Concentration lost put your minds eye at a stand still, now fixated on his lips and beard.

I'm hearing things now...there must be something wrong with me.

*TAP*

That sounds like...

*TAP TAP*

Fear grips you as you realise the tapping is now in the room with you, you aren't imagining it. You hear a final tap right next you, sending a vibration up your forearm. Keeping your eyelids firmly squeezed shut, you slowly crawl away from where you heard the last tap until you hit the wall. There's a slight tremble in your hands as you pull your knees up to your chest.

"I'm not going to hurt you" a smooth, deep voice calls out you. But his calm voice didn't ease your fear any.

What the hell is happening?! How did he get in?...It couldn't be magic could it...but magic or not, this is him...I must be going mad...there's no way a man in my dream could be real and in my house!

*TAP*

"Please could you open your eyes"

Your eyes flew open without a thought, almost like his words had control over you.

This was it. This was your dream. You sitting on the floor, him towering over you. Just like your dream you slowly lift your head as more of the familiar suit, jacket and cane is revealed to you. But this time, when your eyes reach his beard they keep travelling up to reveal your missing piece.

Rosy lips, a slight crook in his roman nose, big chocolate eyes, thick expressive eyebrows, dark groomed hair...

Ohh...he's...

"Much better. Its a pleasure to meet you, my dear"

He bows slightly and offers his hand down to you.

God, his hands are...massive!

You stare at the hand in front of you as your fear slowly dissipates for your confusion to take over. Clearing your dry throat you finally speak up.

"Um...w-who are you?"

"My name is Maxim Horvath" he replies sweetly.

"Eh...well, Mr Horvath. I d-don't know you, uh w-what are you doing in my home? How did you even get--"

"You know me, my dear" he states calmly, cutting you off.

Retracting his hand, he kneels down to your level, making direct eye contact with you.

You feel your heart starting to work double time under his intense gaze.

"I understand that I frightened you and for that I sincerely apologise" he waits so you nod in acceptance. "Now I wish to explain this all to you but I wanted to help you up from the floor first" a smirk plays at his lips. "I suspect it isn't terribly comfortable down there"

You can't help but let a small smile grace your face as you let one of your hands that was grasping at your knee lift up towards him.

Smiling he took a hold of your hand, his own engulfing yours and moved up bringing you with him. As your knees cracked, you craned your neck up.

Jesus, he's tall.

Now that you were both standing you could see he was at least a foot taller you, much wider than you all round in fact. Avoiding his intimidating gaze you make your way around him and sit down on the sofa. He follows and gestured with his hand to the seat beside you waiting for your invitation. You nod.

"So-" he starts, placing his cane across his lap. "I believe your first question was 'what are you doing in my home?' To answer simply, I'm here for you but not to harm you. I would never do anything to hurt you knowingly"

He would never hurt me...he doesn't even know me.

"You said you don't know me" he glances over at your drawing "I can't help but think that that is me you are sketching so beautifully, is it not?"

A blush blooms on your cheeks.

"Well...yes it is but I- I don't know you"

"But you have seen me before? Or at least my neck down" he smirks.

"Yes but--"

"You have dreamt about me and I you"

The confusion on your face caused him to frown, the previous light in his eyes dimming. And then you felt it...you felt your heart clench and your throat tighten. The way his face dropped made your chest sink, you decide you didn't like sadness on him. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out as he met your eyes watching your expression change.

"Do you feel anything? Do you--"

He stops when you raise your hand.

"Could I hold your hand...just for a second?"

Without hesitation, he offers his hand to you. And as you suspected, holding hands with him gives you that warm tingly feeling inside.

"You never told me your name" he says just above a whisper. Lifting your eyes from your joined hands to look at him, your breath nearly gets stuck in your throat when you see the tenderness in his eyes.

"Oh, it's Y/N...I'm sorry --"

"There no need to apologise. I understand this is a lot for you to take in"

He smiles warmly at you and startes rubbing his thumb around in circles on your hand.

Just for a second. You thought, smirking at your still joined hands.

"I do feel...connected to you somehow. This feels right but- I'm sorry but I really don't know you"

His other hand comes up to cup your cheek lightly, his thumb grazing your cheekbone.

"It's okay. You're right, we are strangers but our souls are One, that is why this feels normal"

"Like soulmates?"

"Yes, in a way. May I ask, how long have I been in your dreams?"

"The past 3 nights"

"Mm, well you have been blessing mine for the last 4 weeks" he admitted. "I assume you have had trouble with your art since that time? Since you've been in my dreams"

"Y-yes, but how did--"

"That is how it works. Souls are connected through their passion. In your case, Art. In mine, Magic. I have been struggling with spells that have always come to me naturally, that is until I started to search for you"

He searched for me...

"I see that your skill has returned now though. That really is very good so far but I do think I need a head" his head tilts side ways at you, looking from you to the drawing.

"Thank you" you giggle. "You know, I've never actually met anyone who could wield magic. Could you show me? If you don't mind"

"Of course, sweetheart"

Blushing profusely at the pet name, you watch as he lifts his hand between you both. As quick as you can blink his fingertips burst into a blue flame.

"I am also now back to my former self" he says wiggling his flamed fingers.

"Wow! That's amazing ... So, is blue your colour?"

"It is" The flames disappear as he points to your drawing.

"You used blue to draw me" You look back at your drawing.

I hardly ever touch blue, I always use black...the painting was the key, that was how he got here. How did I not notice...well not that I really care now.

You could feel yourself giving in to this feeling. The feeling of wanting to love him, be with him. The doubt in your mind was still there though because soulmate or not he was still a complete stranger. But you really wanted to let it happen anyway.

"So I did" you smile looking back at him.

A few minutes passed with you both just looking into each others eyes. You were searching for his sincerity, his dedication, his love for you. While he also was looking for your love for him, he wanted to see that you really wanted him. He knew he could be quite intimidating so he needed to feel that you were comfortable in his presence. Both of you found what you were looking for.

"Maxim" you whispered, placing a hand flat on his chest.

He couldn't help but let his eyes lids flutter at the sound of his name coming from your lips.

"Y/N" you felt the rumble through your palm as he practically groaned your name back to you.

"I-I'd like you to kiss me, Maxim"

As he leans closer into your space, you begin do feel almost dizzy. Dizzy from love and lust filling your veins. He's so close you can feel the warmth radiating off him. But he stops a breath away bringing one hand up to your cheek again and the other making itself at home on your thigh. He looks deep into your eyes waiting to see any hesitation from you. But when he finds none, he gives in, finally coming down to place his lips onto yours. It's the most tender kiss you've ever experienced. Just as your lips begin to dance, he pulls away for a second before coming down on you again with much more force. Wrapping your fingers in the hair at the back of his neck you pull him close to you, mirroring his passion. Feeling his tongue poke at your lips you excitedly let him in, your tongues beginning to battle with each other. You moan into his mouth in surprise when he lifts you to sit sideways in his lap. His big hands rub up and down your thighs as you both pull back, desperately needing to catch your breath. You feel his hand push lightly at the back of your head to bring your forehead against his. Breathing in the same air, you take his face in your hands and scratch at his beard making him almost purr at you.

"I do believe I've distracted you from your work" he mumbles, voice low and husky.

"That's alright, I forgive you" you giggle.

"Thank you, sweetheart"

"But you could make it up to me...by modelling for me, since I can finish it now"

"I suppose but..." he starts as you remove yourself from him.

"What do I do?"

Your surprised to see his cheeks tint with pink as your lips meet his forehead, placing a kiss between his eyebrows.

"Just sit there and look pretty"

[love-toxin]

cw: injuries, yandere tohma, gn! reader

"so...how long do I have to play along with this little game of yours?"

the question spills out of his mouth without warning, yet each word is methodical, careful, like he's practiced it a thousand times before. the teapot clutched in your hands nearly slips out and shatters over the table you've laid out for the two of you, but the warmth of the porcelain fortunately keeps you steady enough until you can set it down in the space between you two. Tohma was kind enough to bring you a gift after spending awhile away, tending to his duties--so it's only natural that you would take him out for some tea in exchange. it's courtesy. it's expected.

but his question certainly is not.

"I...I have no idea what you're talking about, Tohma."

"really?"

he's sat cross-legged for some time now, waiting as you ordered the tea and offering you some idle chit-chat befitting a pair that haven't seen the other in a while. Tohma has always been your friend even when you were young, but as is custom in a place like Inazuma, your relationship has evolved throughout the years. there are things you can't say anymore, things that would ruin your life if you were caught doing them...and now, you fear, the glint in Tohma's eyes may be an omen that he's about to commit one of those unholy acts.

"come on now, sweetheart, everybody can see the truth for what it is. there's no need to hide it any longer."

he's purposely tiptoeing around the question, waiting for the pieces to click in your mind. he need not say anything at all, however--the way he looks at you in this moment, and the purpose with which he stands from his place at the tea table is enough to set your jaw tight and your eyes to darken.

"you know that I was always meant to be your husband. to be there for you through thick and thin, to care for you when we're both old and gray-"

he takes a few quick steps around it to get to you, to kneel at your side and reach out his hands to pull yours into them, and it's all you can do not to flinch away and risk the image of impropriety. but you've endured this lecture before, and the only thing screaming inside your head is for you to resist--just resist, don't listen to a word he says, and bite your tongue of any insult until he finally gives up and gets the hint.

"Tohma, stop."

"-to treasure you like no one else will. I understand your point of view, I really do--we're still young, and the world outside of Inazuma seems so big and grand...but you have to realize that the time to settle down is coming for us."

he rubs his thumb over your hand and smiles in your direction, but you can't meet his eyes. and then it's slipping out of your grasp and raising up to your face, and you feel yourself stiffen all over as Tohma gently cups your cheek, his gaze lowering towards your mouth as if he has an idea of what he wants to do. but that would be grounds for you to shriek for a guard, and you're entirely certain that that's the only reason he bites his lip to stave off the desire.

"you were always meant to be mine. you believe in fate, and you've always put your trust in me...so why not let me help you?"

that last part comes as a whisper, the tearoom private but the walls still thin. one of the many secrets you've entrusted to Tohma over the years is your disagreement with Inazuma's strict laws, as well as the etiquette that comes with being a member of the higher class. you've always despised being noble, and Tohma has always understood you, at least you thought so....but ever since he's gotten this ludicrous idea in his head, you've known even less peace than usual.

"I've said it a dozen times, Tohma, and I won't say it again. I'm not marrying you."

you do your best to spit the words out with as much venom as you can muster, yet you still feel the twinge of anxiety at snapping at him so informally. it could spell the end for you quite easily, but when your eyes are drawn back to Tohma's expression, all you can see is bliss written all over his face.

"...even laced with contempt, my name sounds so sweet on your lips. you've so much wit, so much grace, and your beauty leaves me breathless...I know how little you think of me, but-"

fury shoots through every vein of your body, and you know it's the wrong move when you slap his hand away from your face, the smack like a thunderclap in the small space of the little tearoom.

"enough, Tohma! enough. do yourself a favour and stop speaking to me--in fact, I dearly hope you never say a word to me again."

each finger on his hand twitches, only to close in a tight fist and sink back down to his lap. you try to avoid his gaze in this moment, but even turning your head away you can still feel his eyes staring right into your soul.

"you know I can't make that promise. you know that I love you."

that word makes you stiffen, your grip lock on your noble dressings, your blood turn to ice in your veins. you've avoided that for so long but it follows you like a demon, and it's eyes glow a verdant green as Tohma's words melt into your skin and eat you alive from the inside out.

"this feeling of yours....it's not mutual, Tohma. just leave it, and leave me."

you say so, but you're the one that stands from the tea table in the end, and Tohma jumps to get to his feet to follow you. he trails on your heels as you step with purpose towards the door and slide it open, the cool chill of Inazuma city in the night prickling your exposed skin. the blond hurries to get in front of you, and the moment you spot a few other citizens on the path this late at night, you tilt your head down and pray to the gods that Tohma won't force you into impropriety.

"...I see. you won't budge on this, then...I will have to accept that. but may I at least escort you home? I can't in good faith allow you to wander alone in the dark. I still care for you."

he looks down on you with a softness to his features, and you hate how easily you buckle under any sort of pressure from him. you prided yourself on not giving in before, but when you're not alone it's not nearly as easy--you have to piece your words so carefully together, and by the time you think of an excuse it will already be too late for you to reject his offer. so with as subtle of a huff as you can manage, you speak softly under your breath that you suppose that's fine, and grit your teeth as you thank him for the offer. and Tohma is all too relieved to stand beside you as you walk down the hill and leave the prying ears of the city, the silence near unbearable between you as you meander through the path cut down the middle of the farmer's fields.

"seems there's no one around. not a surprise for this time of the night."

it's not a terribly long walk back to your family's estate, but Tohma still evidently feels the need to speak up as you reach the end of the gently sloping hill. Konda village lies within sight in the distance, and you feel the tension weigh heavy on your heart as you count the steps closer and closer to safety. relative safety that is.

you're so focused on paying him as little attention as possible that you don't even take notice to his hand drawing closer to yours and his eyes wandering up and down your figure, practically salivating as the flames in his chest burn hotter and hotter, until the moment he can't take any more and he grabs you by the shoulders to stop you and force you to look him straight in the eyes.

"now, you're going to listen very closely. I'm going to give you a little gift, because I love you so very much. you get a minute's head start."

the shock catches you off guard to the point that you bite your own tongue, fear and panic shooting through you like icicles that make you freeze in place. Tohma's expression is so intense he nearly appears feral, pearly teeth glimmering in the light from the moon as he grins down at you like a predator examining their prey.

"here's the deal, sweetheart--if you can run all the way past Konda village, you win. but if I catch you, I win, and you must uphold your promise and marry me in a month's time. and if you win, you'll get your wish--I'll never speak a word to you again."

terror grips you even harder than Tohma is, and at his proposal you whip your head towards the village in the distance and then back to him. if he's seriously not making some kind of sick joke, then there's absolutely no way you would ever make it. you're not a fighter, you don't even know how to hold a sword much less have a vision, and you've seen the kinds of things Tohma is capable of....he'll catch you before you make it anywhere close.

"Tohma-"

his gaze lingers on you for a moment, before he turns you in the direction of the village and pushes you forward, only hard enough for you to stumble a bit. you want to question him, to try and talk him down from such an insane idea, but once you hear him start counting down aloud your feet move on their own and you take off in a pitiful run down towards your target. the night air whips by your face as you try to sprint as best you can, yet your robes that give away your nobility get caught on your sandals and trip you up enough that it makes your heart jump into your throat. your heart pounds in a cage that feels too tight, the air heavy and raw in your lungs the longer you fumble your way forwards in the night. even your tears feel cold as they stream down your face, and if speaking wouldn't expend your precious energy then you would surely be wailing for Tohma to stop, please, he's scaring you. especially once you hear his footsteps take off, and it feels as though his warm breath is right on the back of your neck.

but even so, you look up within moments to find yourself in the middle of the quiet little village, the lanterns dim and only the glow of the moon casting light on the humble little buildings. the panic ceases but resurges just as quickly when you remember that you're not safe yet, that the entrance to the village is still a few hundred metres away--and you can hear Tohma panting now, at a distance close enough that he'll make a grab for you long before you'll ever get there. but there's something you know that he probably doesn't remember, and it might just be your saving grace as you duck into the shadows and skirt around the mayor's house just as he skids into the path of the village. you fear in the pit of your stomach that getting the top off the well that you used to play near as children would make a great deal of noise, but you hurry forward and find it open--and just as you swing a leg over to climb inside and pray that Tohma doesn't think to look for you here, your foot slips on the stone that's still damp from the rain and your world is overturned as you fall through the air. it's not far enough that you can scream or grab for purchase on something, but when you land you hear the sickening crack of something breaking and pain that shoots through your leg so quick that it almost makes you black out.

but something worse is yet to come, and it's Tohma's voice calling out your name, before you look up to the sky and your heart just sinks as you watch his face pop into view over the side of the well.

"oh, archons--baby, are you all right?! did you hurt yourself?"

he hops over the edge quite easily and falls steady on his feat, not even having broken a sweat from chasing you as he hurries to your side and props you up in the crook of his arm. and despite still feeling that twinge of discomfort and panic from him touching you, the agony sets in so deeply that you cling to him without realizing as tears pour down your face and you struggle to breathe.

"let me see...yeah, that's definitely broken. c'mere, I'll help you up.."

just brushing the pads of his fingers over the rapidly-swelling skin of your calf makes you flinch and cry out with pain, and it's obvious by the deep bruising how bad you've hurt it--you wouldn't be able to climb out of here if you tried. but Tohma finds so little trouble in heaving you up into his arms that it's laughable....it would be funny how sincerely you thought you could get away in the first place, if you weren't experiencing the consequences now. and only now is it starting to sink in that you lost, even though he isn't rubbing it in your face. yet.

"poor thing--that was scary, wasn't it? aren't you glad I was here?"

despite how despairing you look, he rubs his cheek against yours as he holds you tight. you realize now how much he's always wanted to do this, and how he's dragging this all out while he has the chance to do it without anyone watching....it's such a rare opportunity, but you don't feel nearly as lucky as he does.

"I'll always be here, sweetie....in sickness and in health, right?"

he murmurs into the shell of your ear, before pressing a kiss to it right afterwards as he reaches out to get a foothold so he can lift you out of here. all you can think about now is how your chance of escaping him has slipped away....and now, your status is a death sentence in the hands of the man who saved your life, and will ask for nothing in return but your gentle hand in marriage. how romantic.

[thoughtfulfangirling]

I pulled up this old thang hoping maybe I'd write something new for it but realized I must not have posted my most recent addition. I wish I could count this toward my word count, but alas I cannot. I must have written this more than five years ago now lmao. Well enjoy it now if you desire.

"You! Come over here!" Mina pressed the back of her hand to her brow, drawing away the sweat collecting there as she stepped out of the line of prisoners she had been with to find out why the guards had called for her, walking at a slow, measured pace given the manacles and chain meant to restrict her movement. They couldn't be singling her out because of one of her bored pranks; she hadn't played one yet today. "You're wanted."

As Mina reached the men, they grabbed an arm each, and double checked the heavy manacles on her wrists. They were newer guards, leaving her manacles in front. This would be fun.

You'd think a woman would learn, but although her tricks had gotten her into this mess, dug her deeper into the poor graces of those in charge, and most likely would end in the hangman's noose, she simply couldn't bear the empty boredom that accompanied compliance.

As they began escorting her toward the holding cells, the dark man on her right asked, "You're a foreigner. How did you end up in this prison?"

"I heard she solicited a rich lady for sexual favors, and when she went to pay her, the prissy bitch got so offended she had her thrown into the stalks." The other guard escorting her commented, this one pushing her right shoulder.

"I thought Tarek said it had something or other to do with cheating some rich merchants out three weeks of wages." The left guard remarked, confused.

"That's bollocks" Right Guard said, rolling his eyes. "That's the story where she had an entire extra deck of cards hiding in her sleeve and won a horse in the process. Something about the horse being his wife's favorite steed and the woman herself revealing the ruse. But it's not illegal to cheat in a bar bet."

"But if the woman was rich enough, does it matter?"

Right Guard gave a shrug that conceded to the point but was still unconvinced.

"It's neither of those." Mina said, one half of her mouth pulled back in the smirk she couldn't quite hide. This was all too easy. "Apparently owning peacocks is a fad right now for rich women. Have you heard of this? They've been importing them by the dozens!"

Right and Left exchanged a glance. "Peacocks? Those big fancy blue birds with the tails?" Their pace had slowed, drawn in. Mina bit her cheek for a moment to keep from grinning wider.

"Yep. Those are the ones."

"You imported peacocks illegally?"

"Oh no. Nothing like that. I happened across a female turkey — long story, don't ask. They're another large bird, and without the" she lifted one hand to waggle her fingers under her chin, evoking the image of a hanging wattle, causing the chains of her manacles to clatter "male turkeys have, they have a similar silhouette."

They continued to walk slowly, her capturers enthralled but bearing looks of confusion. "Is this another blue bird?"

"Oh not at all! Shades of brown usually. They're native to America. You know I'm American right?"

"You don't look American..." Left muttered.

"They don't have the tail either. So you see, I had a problem, but I needed the cash. So a buddy and I painted the bitch blue. We also got some Widowbird feathers too — you know, those black birds with the long tails? Painted those blue too. Fashioned a nice arching skirt for the thing and glued it to her backside."

"Wait, didn't I hear that the peacocks those fancy rich people have are male? Like the lady birds aren't interesting?"

Minako pointed at the man, chain snapping at the motion, her eyebrows lifting all in a gesture of confirmation. "Yep. You know what I'm talking about! Good. Well, from afar, it was a work of art. Totally had the woman convinced we had a peacock for sale. Said our rich aunt passed away and it was the only thing she left me. We got a great price for that bird. As we had hoped, she had her servants stow the bird in her wagon and off they went. Unfortunately my buddy sold me out when the woman discovered him drinking his share away not a mile from where we conned her. Idiot. So here I am."

They were to the locked gate to the holding cells now, stopped in front.

"That's utterly absurd!" Right Guard declared, but Mina could see in his eyes that he wondered if it might be true.

Mina flashed him a dazzling smile as the guard waiting on the other side of the bars unlocked the gate and let them in.

"Don' listen to a word this cur say." The veteran guard behind the gate said. "She in for star'ing a bar fight after bein caught stealin'an artifact from a fuckin Kaioh."

Mina skipped up the step to get inside and leaned up, planting a kiss on the old man's stubbly cheek. He was the one guard she liked because he snuck in cigarettes for her and shared war stories. He was a good sort stuck in a bad job.

"Naw now that story! You got it wrong love. She stole it from me." She said, now swiveling to face her guards who were right where she'd left them.

"Righ'" The older man said, rolling his eyes. "Yer totally innocent."

"As an angel."

So this happened

(I’m very very bad at finishing stories so I can’t promise there will be a lot more of this. And this is only the second real fic that I’ve written in ten years so it’s rough and this is a first draft; I haven’t even gone over it for mistakes. But fuck you @thoughtfulfangirling for making me want to do it at all. Based on a conversation Furi and @moonwhing has in Docholligay’s discord.)

Minako Aino was a clever woman. This was not always apparent to those around her, especially as she tended play up her flightier, perkier side, but it was something that people who spent a decent amount of time with her tended to notice. Mina Aino was a clever woman. In the amount of time it took most people to mouth “what the fuck” whenever something happened unexpectedly, Mina had already formulated two or three different ways of dealing with it. Mina was a clever woman.

Which is why she was so incredibly pissed to be in the situation she currently found herself, ducking behind a ruin that was once a pillar, while listening to bullets ricochet off it’s rocky surface.

Mina was generally very good at convincing people to do what she wanted. She had perfected the balance between charming and logical on a person-by-person basis. So she never should have found herself in this situation to begin with. But sometimes even her wiles and her attempts to instill in people some common sense came to naught and now she was fighting for her life in the fucking desert in the ruins of a city that she didn’t give a fuck about because her goddamn pathetic excuse for a captain had decided that his lust for gold outweighed anything else worth considering, including the lives of both himself and his regiment. 

“If we make it out of this alive, I’m going to pull his balls out through his throat,” she muttered, only Beni overhearing her if the way he blanched was any indication. And then that goddamn asshole bastard of a motherfucker of a captain got himself shot.

[seriouslysnape]

Hi, love! Could I request something with Snape and a female reader? They dating but lately, Snape is busy with work and the reader doesn't want to disturb him or tell him she needs attention because she's quite shy and doesn't want to be a burden. But when she finally gathered the courage to tell him, he's quite surprised she missed his affection so much. Smut or just fluff whatever you feel like writing will be nice! Don't feel pressure to write it if you don't like that idea. Thank you and have a great day! (PS: I miss Alan Rickman so much T^T such an amazing actor! Ps2: Because of you I started to be a Lupin girl like whaaat he so sweet, I love how you are writing him!) 🖤💚

This is SO sweet. Like SO SWEET. And also, I was the same way! I didn’t start REALLY liking Lupin until I started reading Lupin stuff!

__

Time for You

Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral sex.

Word Count: 1,891

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

__

Communication is always a crucial step in maintaining a healthy, successful relationship. You knew that making your needs, wants, concerns, etc. verbally known was very important.

You were bored. Plain and simple, you were completely stricken with absolutely nothing to do while Severus remained holed away in his office. You would think that a school instructor would take the summers off, but Severus had a plan to change his usual class curriculum, so he had been working around the clock to create a brand new Potions class.

He had been staying busy for the first few weeks of summer, working several hours a day in his home office. Severus was always very in the zone when he worked. He tuned mostly everything out, only taking a break when he couldn’t stay awake or needed to eat or use the restroom. It was a monotonous cycle that had made your home life boring, and had taken a toll on your summer vacation.

He didn’t realize that he had been rather distant, and that he hadn’t shown you much attention at all. It didn’t help that you were too timid to actually speak up and say anything to him. You had always had a hard time expressing your wants and needs to Severus. You never wanted to come off too clingy or too pushy. You hated to ever interrupt him while he worked, so for the most part, you had stayed quiet. You didn’t want to get on his nerves or upset him.

Although, you could probably count the times he’s actually been upset with you on one hand.

You were growing more and more needy for him with each passing day. You missed his touch, his voice, and his hands on you. You just wanted him to pay attention to you, just for a little while.

You paced outside of his office, trying to encourage yourself to go talk to him. He was your boyfriend after all, and effective communication was important. Severus always expressed to you how he wanted you to tell him if you needed something. He wanted you to be happy and content, but if there was something that was making you unhappy, you had to be the one to tell him.

You took a deep breath, building up the courage to go talk to him. If nothing else, maybe you could steal a quick make out session.

You slowly pushed the door open to reveal Severus scribbling away on some parchment at his desk. He had stacks of lesson plans for the upcoming school year and a list of new materials that students would need. He had been going hard at this for a while. You just wished he’d take a break. You peeked your head in.

“Severus?” You called out to him.

His head didn’t turn to you. His body language gave no indication that he had heard you at all. You fully entered the room, closing the door gently behind you. You approached him from behind, gingerly resting your hands on his shoulders. His entire frame relaxed at the feel of such a soothing touch. He sighed lightly.

“Hello, darling.” He greeted, pausing his writing for a moment.

You rubbed his shoulders, drawing soft groans from him.

“How’s it going in here?” You asked.

“Quite well actually. I’m happy with the progress I’ve made.” He replied.

You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, his black hair was soft on your lips. Your hands moved from his shoulders so you could run your fingers through his charcoal colored locks. You massaged at his scalp as he continued to work, talking to him sweetly.

“It’s a beautiful day outside. It’s warm and the sky is clear.” You pointed out to him.

His eyes shifted from his desk to the window. He hadn’t even taken a moment to look at the perfect summer weather. It had been an unusually pretty summer, and you hated that Severus was spending it cooped up in his dark office. The two of you should be having a picnic under your favorite oak tree, or even feeding ducks by the lake. He was missing out on such a flawless summer. That only prompted you further to get him away from his loads of work and actually enjoy his time off.

“Oh, it sure is,” He announced; “You should get out of the house for a bit. Take a walk through the park, yes?” He suggested.

You took a breath.

“I want you to come with me, love.” You requested, pulling his hair carefully behind his ears.

A sigh resonated from his chest. He’d love nothing more than to break away from his desk that he had shackled himself to and soak up the outside freshness with you, but he had convinced himself that he simply had too much to do.

“I need to work. I’ll never be ready by September if I fail to keep working.” He said, still writing with his favorite quill that you had given him as a birthday gift.

He didn’t seem to notice that you were hinting at something. Over the years, he had learned how to gauge your behaviors and your moods to notice when you wanted something, but he still encouraged you to tell him yourself. Now though, he was so occupied that he didn’t notice at all. You felt a twinge of annoyance that he wasn’t taking you more seriously, which is what caused you to blurt out rather sternly.

“Severus, please.” You begged.

Your breath caught in your throat the moment the words left your mouth and Severus’ quill stopped scratching. You had surely gotten his attention, because you were never one to snarl at him like that. He set his quill down completely, turning in his chair to look back at you. You were stunned still, surprised at yourself for having such an involuntary reaction.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” You apologized, giving in to the urge to leave him to keep working.

You went to walk away, feeling as though you had totally crossed a line. This was always the sort of thing you tried to avoid; getting upset and possibly causing an argument. You weren’t the best when it came to confrontation, so you tried your best to maneuver around it. Before you could make any real progress to leave the room, a hand caught your wrist.

“Wait. Don’t go,” He pleaded, standing from his desk; “What’s the matter, [Y/N]?”

He knew now that you were trying to tell him something, but he wanted to see if he could get you to tell him without him having to figure it out himself. He saw the way your eyes shifted to your feet. He didn’t want you to shut down on him when he knew you wanted something.

“Please, tell me.” He added, bringing your head back so you’d look at him.

You bit your lip hesitantly. You didn’t want to seem like you were nagging him or overly pushy. But that didn’t make the fact that you were craving for his affection any less true.

“I miss you.” You finally confessed.

Severus’ expression softened even more than it was already. He could hear the desperation and longing in your voice. You were feeling neglected, and he felt guilty for not making you feel appreciated. He did appreciate you in all aspects. He adored you and he loved you. It wasn’t fair that you were feeling this way.

He was rather astonished that you had missed him enough to speak up in such a way. That’s how he knew that you were really missing him.

“Oh, my dear. Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” He questioned, caressing your smooth cheek,

You gave a simple shrug.

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You explained.

“You never bother me. I always want you to feel comfortable talking to me.” He invigorated.

You nodded into his hand, an internal cheer of victory playing in your head when he lowered his head to kiss you. His lips caught yours in a sensual way, making up for all the lost kisses from the last several weeks. You were stealing kisses from him left and right, making his heart flutter with desire. Before you knew it, you were greedily making out and he had swept you away through the house to your bedroom.

You fell onto your back onto the mattress as he continued to kiss you deeply and roughly. The noises flowing from your chest were nothing less than eager and craving. You reached for his belt, the clinking noise of it releasing was enough to get you totally excited. He pushed your hand away, a ravishing chuckle rumbling from his chest as he briefly stopped kissing you.

“This is all about you, darling.” He growled.

His lips detached from your skin, his body shimmying downwards, his face just inches away from your heated sex. He draped your legs over his shoulders as his tongue wasted no time licking a heavy stripe and your hearty whimper filled the room. He sucked and kissed as one of your hands was steady on his head to prohibit him from going too far, while the other was pressed against the headboard behind your. It felt like electricity was crackling all through your body as he mercilessly pleasured your.

“Oh, fuck...you’ve got quite the mouth, Professor.” You tried to laugh, but it came out as another moan.

Obviously this wasn't the first time you had ever been in this situation with him. But it still surprised you every time.

His chuckle vibrated against you, his voice muffled slightly;

“You better believe it.”

He knew your body backwards and forwards, which is why he put his arm over your waist to keep you from squirming too much. He smirked as he felt your muscles contract against his hold. It was a damn hot sight to see. His face buried between your legs, his tongue and lips working wonders on the woman he adored so much. Normally, he’d hold off on letting you cum. He’d slow his movements to tantalize you and make you beg. But you deserved what you wanted after these weeks.

“Severus, please...” You said feeling your legs begin to shake as his movements didn’t slow.

“I’ve got you, baby.” He spoke.

Your head fell back onto the pillow as a flash of white covered your vision. Your legs tightened on his shoulders as you crashed over your high. He continued to suck your and work you through it. He licked and swallowed your cum and lapped up your release. His name fell from your lips once more as you felt yourself settling back to normal. He grinned once your breathing attempted to slow, he returned to your side. You supposed that you owed him now, but that’d come later. He kissed you less harshly than before, you could taste yourself on his tongue.

“I love you.” You breathed out, sucking on his neck.

“I love you too.” He returned.

He hummed as you left a few hickeys on his neck. His lips finding yours soon after. He was making it a goal to stay as close to you as possible for the rest of the summer.

Potions class could definitely wait.

[newmih]

Bad memories

Words: 1934

Characters: Theo Raeken x reader, mention of Peter, Malia, Cora, Derek (the Hales in general)

Warning: this is sad I guess so if you are not comfortable with death don't read

Summary: Theo has been living with Y/N Hale for a few weeks. Taking advantage of the young woman's absence he decides to visit. He finds a box that catches his attention.

A/N: I wrote this when I wasn't really in a good mood. I guess it's sad? But I've been wanting to write something like this for a while. I can't decide if I'm satisfied with the ending but it took me so long to finish this picture that I don't want to touch it. /English is not my first language. Sorry for any mistake I made./ /Picture is not mine./

Masterlist

Bonne lecture

Even a cup of strong coffee had not succeeded in waking up Theo completely. He had spent a night agitated by nightmares that he fortunately forgot when he woke up. However, he could not hide his dark circles for long from Y/N who would inevitably worry about them. He knew he didn't deserve her kindness and attention after all he had done but he couldn't help but enjoy every moment he spent with her. "I don't judge people by their worst mistakes but by the best they've done." He'd never met anyone with those kinds of thoughts. Usually people just judged you on your appearance and a minority made up their minds after knowing you a little. But few people bothered to know everything about you, all your choices and possibilities.

The chimera was dragging her feet in the hallway that led to her room. Right across the hall from the Hale's. Her door was ajar and he fought the urge to go in and take a look. She had given him her trust with her eyes closed, he had no right to betray her. Bored and with nothing else to do but reread the same book for the third time he decided to explore the big house.

[...]

A gym, a large library and a few rooms later he arrived at the staircase that led to the attic. Y/N hadn't said anything about this room so he assumed he was allowed to go there. The wooden staircase creaked with every step he took, so he was very discreet. He pushed open the heavy wooden door which also creaked and finally entered the room. The sunlight seemed to be struggling to penetrate the small windows. The few rays illuminated dust particles flying in the air. The place seemed abandoned. He felt as if no one had been there for an eternity. Thanks to his supernatural vision he easily found the switch. The light sizzled a bit but eventually came on. Dozens of boxes were waiting for someone to open them. Old furniture was gathering dust, some under tarps, others in the open air. A few frames adorned the walls with old wallpaper. Theo approached one of them. Above one could see a very old black and white photograph. Bright spots took the place of the eyes of most of the people present, werewolves.

Thinking he wouldn't find anything interesting to see here he turned around and headed back toward the door when he came up against a cardboard box he hadn't seen. He bent down to push it out of the way with his hands for fear that someone would break what was inside when a sentence written in black marker caught his eye. "Bad memories. Do not open."

He hesitated for a long time, fighting against his curiosity. Then finally he took one last look around, hesitating, and sat down beside the box. It had not been closed, as if its owner thought he (she) would still need it. The first thing he took out were some photo albums that looked a few years old. The pages smelled old and were yellowed. Since they were on top, a layer of dust covered them. He blew on them and started coughing right after, shaking his hand in front of his face.

The pages were covered with photos, some in black and white and some in color. Years and years of heritage, of generations were frozen on its pages. Occasionally, Theo would find a portrait, or a drawing. He knew that the Hales were a powerful and ancient family, but he never realized that they had been around for so long. Finally he opened the last album in the box. It didn't look as old as the others, but the cover was battered as if someone had thrown it away and stepped on it. He ran his fingers over the title, neatly written in blue pen, "The Hales, by Talia Hale. He smiled at the lack of originality, then realized. He wasn't just holding any book. He was holding the place where the latest photos of all the Hale members were probably kept. He wondered if he had the right to open it, he felt that touching it was already disrespectful but he couldn't help it. He had already talked to Derek and even Cora but both rarely mentioned what had happened. When Peter did, it was in jest, although everyone could recognize the bitterness in his voice and the sadness in his eyes. Malia had no memory of it and maybe she had never heard of it in her youth, so it was probably for the best. As for Y/N, she pretended that nothing had happened, she was completely unaware of the episode. Sometimes the chimera had the impression that she had erased the memory forever. He understood her, who would want to remember such a thing, who would want to remember the death of most of her family, who would want to remember that?

He didn't even realize that he was already turning the pages, too lost in his thoughts. Most of the pictures showed a happy and fulfilled family. You could see the babies growing up, the children becoming teenagers and the parents getting older little by little. He got about halfway through when he came across some scribbled pictures. He could still see very clearly what was underneath the black erasures but the damage was done. He turned the last few pages briskly to find that the same thing had happened to the last paper. He sat staring at the last page. A newspaper article had been pasted on it. The ink in the text had faded over time but the gist was still there and the photo was a clue; the fire that had destroyed an entire family.

"I did that when I found out I was going to have to go back to Beacons Hills."

The man gasped and looked up. Y/N was standing in the doorway, leaning against it. Who knows how long she had been there. He looked at her wide-eyed, ashamed to have been caught in the act. He was so focused that he hadn't even heard her come in, nor had he heard when she had called him or when she had gone up the stairs. He lowered his head and was about to apologize when she spoke again and walked towards him.

"I was so angry at Derek. I didn't understand why we had to do it. Laura was already there and she was strong enough to handle it without our help right? But he knew, he knew something was wrong, that something had gone wrong. I guess it was a hunch. Anyway, it wasn't enough and this town took my big sister away from me too. As if there hadn't been enough death, as if this damn forest hadn't seen enough bloodshed."

At this stage of her monologue she had reached the level of Theo who was looking at her, mouth closed, eyes wide open. He considered her his best friend and besides he didn't care if she didn't, he could call her a friend and that was all that mattered. But she had never confided in him in this way. She stooped and sat down next to him, taking the album from his hands. She turned a few pages and gently caressed the pictures, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

"These are the only things that survived the fire. And I still can't figure out if that's a blessing or not. Because every time I look at these pictures I can't help but imagine what life would have been like if nothing had happened, what their life would have been like. I feel like it should have been me instead."

Theo took her hand but said nothing. He wanted to comfort her but he didn't know how to make her feel better. So he just gently stroked her hand, looking at her gently. She shifted slightly to retrieve something from the box but did not let go of his hand. He could not help smiling but took back very vitreous before she saw it, it was not the moment.

Y/N held in her hand a chain with a stone on the end and a leather jacket.

"This is Boyd and Erica's stuff. I don't know if I'm allowed to say we were friends. I feel like they never really held me in their hearts but... It was still hard. I found Erica's body, she had been dead for days and I saw my brother being forced to kill his own beta. All he ever wanted was a pack, a family. He wasn't planning on hurting anyone. It's not fair Theo, it's not fair."

She held back a sob and put the objects on the floor. The chimera didn't know why she had decided to confide in him like this, but he was going to do everything he could to make her feel understood. The first time he had told her his thoughts, he was so worried that she wouldn't listen to him or care about what he had to say. But Y/N Hale wasn't like that, he knew that now. She was gentle, despite all that life had thrown at her. She cared for others and didn't judge them by what they had done. Now it was his turn to help her.

"You know, I think Allison was the real first friend I ever had. She never judged me, even when she found out who I was, even when Gerard made her think my brother was the reason her mother died. I'm sure I would have understood if she had hated me then. I know what it's like to lose your parents. She paused for a moment to catch her breath before resuming. I also know what it's like to lose your best friends. But I can't complain. Lydia was in love with Aiden. She had lost the man she loved and her best friend. I had no right to complain, right?" Theo didn't even notice that she had asked him the question as she looked him straight in the eye. All he could notice were the tears streaming down her beautiful face. He wished he could wipe them away but he didn't dare move his hand.

With no answer from her friend, Y/N turned her face away and stared into the void. She was probably recalling old memories but the man couldn't tell if they were good or bad. She was still crying but she had a nostalgic smile on her face.

"And then there was Brett. But I guess I should have expected it. That family is cursed. The life expectancy of our companions seems to be shortened when we finally meet them." A laugh left her mouth, but it certainly wasn't joyful. She was done talking. She wouldn't open her mouth for a long time. All the H/C wanted right now was to stay in Theo's arms, in comfortable silence. Maybe he would agree. Either way, she didn't have much left to lose so she leaned in and pressed herself against her friend's chest. He tensed for a moment before finally taking her in his arms to comfort her. She cried for what seemed like hours. It was the first time in a while that this had happened to her. She had gotten used to bottling up her emotions. Y/N finally fell asleep in the chimera's warm embrace. She was finally resting. The world owed her that much.

[bentnotbroken1fanfiction]

It's officially whumptober, so here's another entry.

It's a loud bang and sudden pressure that awake Billy from an apparently uncomfortable sleep.  He cracks open his eyes to find himself in an unfamiliar and dark room. 

Where the hell is he?  

The noise turns out to be a large metal door slamming shut and the pressure was apparently another person being tossed onto him. 

"What the fuck?" He tries to sit up but he finds that he can't move his arms. They've been bound behind him. And to make matters worse, he feels like he got hit with a mack truck. 

Twice .

Fucking great. 

The other body finally rolls to the side and he is surprised when he can clearly see that he knows this guy. 

It's Steve Harrington. 

Harrington lets out a slew of curses as he too, tries and struggles to sit up."-last fucking time I do Henderson a favor. If it's not getting a flat tire and stranded, it's something else, I swear to god-" The tirade stops when he finally manages to get upright and notices Billy staring. " Hargrove ? What the hell are you doing here?" 

"I could ask you the same question." 

He sort of shrugs."Some shady dude got the drop on me when I was picking up something for one of the kids." he sighs dramatically. "What about you?" 

Billy thinks about it, thinks about where he was before waking up in this room, but he's drawing a blank. The last thing he remembers is drinking a shot of whisky at the Long Branch. His dad is pals with the owner so he gets away with sneaking a drink every once in a while.

But after that…nothing. 

"I don't remember. I drank something and then…I don't know."  He definitely can't remember anything that would make him fucking ache like this, that's for damn sure.

"Well I'm going to take a stab in the dark and say we are in Hawkins Lab."

His interest is piqued at the statement. "I thought they got kicked out and the place was condemned?" 

"Yeeeeah, evil people don't really give a fuck about legalities. If they have money they'll do whatever the hell they want." 

Billy huffs out a tired laugh and attempts to get in a more comfortable position, which he unfortunately finds that he can't . "You do have a point." He knows money talks. 

After a moment of nothing but silence and awkward grunting from him still trying to sit the fuck up, he decides to ask the other boy. Because every time he breathes now he feels like his body is on fire and Harrington looks fine.  "Hey, do you feel OK? Like physically. You're not in any pain?"

Harrington meets his eyes and they look concerned. "No, I'm fine. Are you in pain?" 

"Yeah, but...I was fine..." 

"You must have been drugged. These guys...they're sick. I can't really say for certain what kind of shit they're up to this time, but if it's the same group as before…" he trails off.

Yeah, Billy doesn't like the sound of that. "What did they do before ?" 

His voice is quiet when he replies "Human experimentation." 

All the pain and memory loss make a lot more sense now, but he feels queasy with the thought of someone touching him...experimenting on him while he was unconscious. "You think they've already done something to me..." 

"Yeah. They probably have." 

Fuck. "We're going to die aren't we?"

"No. I didn't go through two years of bullshit just to get kidnapped and murdered. We are getting out of here." 

"And how do you propose we do that?"

He looks thoughtful for a moment. "OK, here's what we're gonna do. I'm going to scoot my back to yours. I can't move my arms, but I can still move my hands. If I can get you free, we can get the fuck out of here. I don't know the layout but I have a general idea of where the exit is. I wasn't knocked out when they brought me in."  

"Fuck it. I'm willing to try anything if it means getting the hell out of here." Billy agrees, even though he doesn't have much faith in the plan, but surprisingly Harrington manages to get the ropes around his wrists untied. 

Hands free, he returns the favor and Harrington quickly stands and makes a break for the door. It's just as loud opening as it was closing, and Billy cringes, waiting for someone to come storming in.

But no one ever does. 

So, they both stick their heads out and glance down the hallway. There isn't a soul in sight.

Either their captors are overly confident in their abilities to contain their prisoners, or they are really dropping the ball here. 

  Whichever it is, it doesn't matter. What matters is that they have a chance to get out of this place unscathed. Or in his case, relatively unscathed. 

He keeps stumbling after Harrington, like he's not used to his limbs, but it's not bad enough that he's lagging behind. It just hurts…. a lot.

And it's weird...He can usually ignore pain. He's played basketball with broken ribs and waited for broken limbs to mend without medication before, but he is quickly realizing that whatever they did to him... It's different, and he doesn't know how much longer he can keep up the pace. 

Thankfully, Steve hadn't been full of shit and led them out a side exit…

...just in time for sirens to blare throughout the whole damn building. 

"Looks like they finally noticed."  He says, trying to hide the sudden fear in his voice. 

"It's fine. There's the woods. We're almost there" Harrington points forward and Billy follows his finger. 

It's freedom, and the only thing standing between it and them is a barbed wire fence. 

It's probably ten feet tall but Harrington scales it like a pro. He's dropping onto the other side in no time flat. 

Billy would usually be right there with him, he's a pretty fit guy, but he stumbles again when he reaches the fence and puts his boots in the holes. His right leg is fine and he gets halfway up, but the moment he puts his weight on the other he falters. The only reason he's not on his ass is because of all the push ups and lifting he does. His upper body strength is nothing to scoff at.

Harrington notices his struggle and climbs up, reaching out to take his hand and pull him over the top.

But the pain is excruciating and after a few tries, he knows he can't get up and over the fence.

His leg is fractured or something. It has to be. Maybe the running just aggravated it. Or...whatever they fucking did is starting to overcome him.

His chest feels tight and his jaw is sore from gritting his teeth through the pain. 

It only takes a moment more for the severity of the situation to set in. 

He's not going to make it.

He stares up at the wounds on the other boy's face and arms from the wire cutting into him. The longer he tries to help Billy, the more injured he'll become….

So, there's really only one option here, but Steve hasn't realized it yet. There isn't a way for them both to escape this. The creeps that took them have already noticed their absence. He can still hear the sound of alarms and now barking dogs behind them. 

"Harrington," his voice shakes despite the bravado he's trying to project. "You have to let go, man."

There's confusion and then anger in those brown eyes as he glares at him. "I'm not leaving you here." He tries again to unsuccessfully pull Billy up, panting out, "You're an asshole, but I don't want you to fuckin die."  

The barks suddenly move closer, making them both shudder. "Look, there isn't another way, and you have a chance to get out of this freak fest. My leg is fucked. Something is wrong with me and I'm slowing you down. So let me go ."

There are so many emotions that cross his face before he finally relents."Fuck you, Hargrove," he hisses, and lets Billy's hand fall from his grasp. 

Something like relief fills his chest as he slumps down to the ground, but the other boy isn't moving. He has to hiss out, "Go!" 

"Fuck. I'm going …but when I find help, I'm coming back for you." 

Billy forces a smile and gives him a wave. "See you later then, pretty boy." 

He watches his back retreat into the darkness and shivers as heavy footsteps stop behind him.

"The control subject escaped," someone says into a radio before roughly grabbing him. He doesnt put up a fight as he's dragged back towards the lab, but he does throw up when the pain becomes too much. "I have subject A." The man speaks again. "But it doesn't look good." 

And Billy sighs sadly, because he had already known the outcome. The only thing Steve will be coming back for, is his body.

[keigosbirdie]

I love your way of writing and despite language barriers (German potato) I can read your texts well and fluently! ♡ you can tell that you put a lot of work into it and I don't have to start with your drawings they are awesome !! ♡♡ my first fail question was answered nicely by you ♡ I wanted to ask if you can give my day a good start with a few lovely words from Hawks in your style so that I can go to work motivated ♡

Thank you so much !! Ahh! Im so happy you could read my story despite the language barrior! I try to write bluntly, so to speak- to the point, you know? Im glad my style of writing works for you!! A few words from hawks? Well, since you sent me such a sweet message I wrote something for you! Its short and I wrote it on my breaks at work so i hope its okay ;u;

---

Morning Coffee

The morning was cold. Flecks of snow fell lazily from the blackened sky above you, so you pulled your scarf up over your nose to keep warm. You were alone at the train station, just like every morning before. The world was engulfed in darkness beyond the reach of the buzzing lights above you. Used to, the dark of early morning felt ominous and frightening. Especially walking in it alone to the station, but it became a comfort when it became familiar. The rest of the world was excluded from your early morning train rides to work. It was the only time of day that truly belonged to you. When you thought of it that way, the blackness all around you felt more like a protective blanket from the world beyond it than something to be feared.

But it was still lonely.

You clasped your coffee cup tightly in your palms as you waited for the train. Well, it wasn't your coffee cup. Your favorite thermos was forgotten on the counter in the rush of the morning. Your only alternative was a paper cup filled with whatever elixir the gas station peddled you that morning. It helped warm you against the chill of winter, but it did little for your soul.

You clasped your coffee a little tighter and glanced up at the world above it's brim. It was so early in the morning in your rural town that you were the soul occupant of the train station. There was no casual chatter of strangers or the shuffling of other people living their lives separate from yours. There was only you and the faint buzz of the lights above you.

The loneliness was an excuse for your mind to wander to thoughts of those close to you. Close, but not close enough. Friends you only saw during friday outings. Your mother, who lived a few hours away. Your husband, who moved in with you just a week prior, but it hardly felt like it. He had little time for domestic bliss in the midst of his own busy troubles. It was fine, you were incredibly busy yourself, and just having him there more often was a comfort.

The memory of the night before warmed your core up better than your cup. He came home a little early, and you stayed up way past bed time to build a pillow fort, per your request. The rest of the night you laid together in the makeshift hovel. His familiar voice filled the tiny space with gentle, nostalgic words that set sparklers off in your chest.

He was still in bed when you awoke for work, which made leaving even more difficult. It took several minutes of mental preparation to climb out from beneath his warm plumage, and he chirped and rolled in his sleep at the loss of your warmth. You decided not to wake him, —sleep was a rare luxury for the overworked hero— so you left with a worldless kiss and a note on the fridge. It made standing alone at the station all the more bitter, though, knowing he was at home keeping the sheets warm.

Your chest quaked gently under the weight of your loneliness, but only for a moment before you straightened your back out to stand a little taller. It would be fine. You'd be home again after your shift, and you'd see him again when he eventually made it home after his.

You reached into your coat pocket and fingered the top of an aluminum can. It was also coffee, but his coffee. The too sweet, triple shot canned stuff he sipped on to get through the day. You'd buy one for him when you stopped by a gas station. And sometimes for yourself, simply because the shiny yellow can on your desk gifted you with thoughts of him through the day.

"It's quiet out here," a voice resonated from behind you. Right behind you.

"F-Fuck!" You jolted. The paper coffee cup that'd been comforting you was crushed in your startled fist. What little was left of the hot liquid gushed out and burned the knuckle of your thumb.

The redness on your hand was pale in comparison to the flush of your cheeks, however, when you realized who'd landed behind you. Hawks. The man you'd abandoned in bed. He was dressed for patrol in his hero get up. He lifted that yellow visor of his atop his head, the same one that sat on your bedside table at night. He looked down at you apologetically. His wings folded tight against his back as if to make himself appear smaller; less threatening.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you-"

"Oh, no, you're fine-" you blurted as you straightened yourself out and rubbed the ache of your hand against your thigh. "You just startled me, Jesus, why don't your wings make any sound when you come swooping in? At least give a gal a warning."

He offered the smallest smile.

"I wanted to catch you before I took off," he said, though his expression was still a bit solemn as he eyed the hand you'd burned. "You left your thermos on the counter."

He reached into his thick jacket and pulled the thing from his pocket. You blinked, and you suddenly didn't feel cold anymore. With a long, contented hum you dropped the crumpled paper cup into the can behind you, and then he placed your thermos into the cradle your hands made. The metal was hot. He must have made you a fresh cup.

The gesture shook you just a little. He'd been in your life since you were children—he grew up to be your husband, for God's sake—but you never stood beside him in a public place. He was too protective, and the thought of you being outed as his spouse brought on his anxieties. Yes, the eagle eyes of strangers always made him nervous when it came to you, but there wasn't another soul in sight that morning.

"You'd risk being seen with me just to bring me my coffee?" You pondered as you popped off the cap and breathed in the familiar, healing aroma of your favorite brew.

"And to get my goodbye, since you ran off without one. I was worried," he added. His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't lose his playful grin when he tacked, "You butthole," onto the end of his sentence.

You snorted at his childish insult. It was so like him to peck at you gently. "You never get any sleep- I was trying to be nice! And you know when I leave for work, Birdbrain. I even left you a note on the fridge."

"Ah, I didn't see it," he said. His gloved hand scratched at the back of his head as he tried to hide his small tinge of embarrassment. He came to bring you coffee, yes, but he also came just to double extra check that you were safely on your way to work and not a corpse in a ditch somewhere. "Sorry."

He worried. A lot. It was one of those things he was trying to work on, but it didn't bother you as much as he thought it did. He lived a treacherous life. The secrecy around your relationship and the anxiety he harbored for your safety always made sense to you.

A small cloud expelled from your lips as you let out the smallest laugh. "Don't be. I'm glad you came. Waiting out here is the crummiest part of the day, usually. Company is nice, especially if its yours."

His face softened. His lips quirked up into the faintest of grins, and his narrow eyes crinkled gently at their dark corners. It was the same smile that made your heart flutter when you were a little girl. His face was rounder and a bit more pudgy, then. His eyes were dowey, his voice was high, and he'd yet to be ripped apart and put back together into someone else. That little boy faded more and more as years and hardships passed, but you still saw him every time Hawks wore his smile.

"It is pretty cold," he said, and a wing unfurled from behind him. It draped around you like a heavy coat, battling away the chill in the air. Your smile grew a little wider as you stepped into him.

You fingered the edge of the can in your pocket before pulling it free from the confines of your coat.

"Here. We can have a little coffee before my train gets here," you offered.

His head tilted at the offering, as if startled by it. But then he took it graciously from your hands. You huddled close together under the canopy of his wings to keep warm as you nursed the edges of your drinks. Soon your train would come, and he would fly off into the darkness that became so familiar to you. You'd be on the tram alone once again, but the warmth of your thermos would keep you good company the rest of the way to the commission.

"Thank you," you managed to say. You were huddled so close together you could feel the fur trim of his coat brush against your cheeks. Warm puffs of your intermingling breaths chased the cold away from your cheeks and the loneliness from your once tight chest.

"For the coffee?" He asked before taking a noisy sip from his own elixir. "I knew you'd be lost without it."

"For everything."

[mxvladdy]

THE WAY YOU FILLED YOUR FIRST REQUEST SHOOK ME?!?!?!? YOU BLESSED US!? Would you mind also imagining how Mammon, Luci and Belphie would feel with a MC who's guarded with themselves and their feelings to avoid hurt, so they try to keep these brothers at a friendly arm's length as they don't believe the brothers don't really care about them? It would make me so happy, thank you so much!

EEEEK! Sorry for the wait. It took forever and a day to get enough time to seat uninterrupted and then try to edit ;.;

I hope you like it! Apologies if I didn’t get the prompt just right!

Mammon

He didn’t hide his disdain for his human protection duty when you first met. The fact that you kept him at an arm's length was a devil’s blessing. Good! He is a busy demon after all, he doesn’t have time for some human. At first.

Then he caught the feels and it’s all downhill for him at his ‘cool devil’ act. Not that you ever NOTICED.

He tries to flirt with you. Before you, he thought he was good at it too.

He’s never had someone so civil with his advances. You smile and laugh politely at whatever complement he throws at you. You might even give him a few back in a teasing, but clearly friendly manner.

You stress it heavily whenever he comes on too heavy with his advances. You stamp down whatever feelings he evokes and try to keep your line clean and precise in the shifting sand of your relationship.

He takes you out one evening after school, determined to get an actual answer from you over some made up snack he lied about. You don’t think anything of it, happy for an excuse to hang out. You walk and talk, not taking notice of his steadily reddening face as he keeps making swipes at your hand each time it brushes his.

You make an off-handed (get it) remark about the closeness and offer to walk behind this was bothering him.

He is miffed and throws out all semblance of “coolness”. Just flat out confess. Face flaming hot from embarrassment and sweaty palms now shoved into his jacket.

It was a blink and you’d miss it kind of moment. Mammon’s cheeks start to heat gradually. A staunch look of panic growing behind his eyes.

The words just slip off his tongue. His lips forming a sentence you were dreading. You didn’t quite catch it all; his declaration lost in the wind of the open market. You try to catch his gaze, to make him repeat himself clearly, for what purpose you didn’t know. You don't particularly want to hear it again, yet it would give you time to compose some kind of response.

He refuses to look at you. No matter which way you bob and weave beneath him, he dances around you. His face always looking in the opposite direction of yours. His gaze permanently pointing at his feet. The uneven cobblestone beneath his scuffed boots was suddenly very interesting it seemed. "I'm sorry? I didn't catch that." You ask once more, grabbing on to the crook of his elbow.

He buries himself deeper into the flipped collar of his coat and whispers it again. "I-I like ya, ok? Like like like ya know?" He stumbles over his thoughts.

Now how in the hells were you supposed to dodge this? It had been easier to evade his blatant affections when even he wasn't admitting to them. "No, you don't." You step away with a dry chuckle. "Don't be silly." You back away shaking your head in denial. You were sure Mammon could feel your heart rate picking up. You need some space, more space than the street could give you. Somewhere away from your tall, sweet, white-haired problem.

"Oi!" He makes a grab for you as you turn to flee. He spins you around leaning down to meet with you face to face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We are friends Mammon," You try to wiggle out of his strong, yet gentle grip. "You're just mixing up the feelings." Bullshit. With him touching you, your joint pack acted like an amplifier. You very much felt what he thought of you. The yearning from his newfound mental clarity mixes with the panic of your rejection. It makes a bittersweet taste bloom in your mouth, so hopefully yet reserved.

He was not so lucky. Your feelings felt like ash on his tongue, a sour tang of fear and self-doubt building on his sense. You were afraid of the inevitable, or what you presumed to be the inevitable.

  You were supposed to be friends then disappear forever once the school year was up. Him, down here, and you back to being just another nameless soul in the human realm. No need to get the storyline all tangled. "Hey-hey," Mammon speaks in a rush. "It ain't like that, really." He coos shuffling you closer till you are wrapped tightly in his soft leather jacket. He pours more of himself into the pack, opening himself up in ways he never thought capable of from his demonic form.

"I'm stupid." You speak into his chest. The warm reassurance of his unspoken pledge soothing you. It lessens the tight feeling of uncertainty that you had grown accustomed to.

"Ah- now, ain't that supposed to be my job?" The taste in his mouth dissipates slightly as you let out an indignant huff. He flinches as you poke his side hard between his rib cage.

"Told you to stop talking down on yourself Mammon."

The demon hums noncommittally keeping you close. He rocks you both from side to side, oblivious to the throngs of other pedestrians forced to walk around you two. "Guess I forgot. Maybe you could remind me? O-on a date?"

He smiles down at the little sliver of your face and eyes peeking up from the darkness of his jacket. He could damn near feel the smile trying to break from your forced scowl. "Just one?"

"Heh- don't bet on it."

Lucifer

Welcome to the ultimate game of pleasantry chicken. The two of you know this dance by heart, but your footwork isn't synching up.

Lucifer is trying to keep this whole debacle as professional as possible. You are an esteemed guest and pact holder for all of his brothers and himself. This should be business as usual. He totally has his emotions and growing frustration at your lack of interest in him in check.

Yup. He's fine. He's great; glad you two have such an unspoken understanding of your standing in his company and in the house. The same book, same chapter, same bloody page.

You are a good friend. Just. A. Very. Good. Friend.

He breaks first. Not that he will admit it. But the weekly coffee breaks become a bi-daily thing as he tries to court you. He draws these evenings out now. Have you finished your schoolwork? No, allow me to tutor you. Perhaps you would like to listen to this new vinyl with me tonight? It is a complete demon rendition of Wagner's Die Meistersinger. A classic, you’ll love it.

You take it all in stride. Thanking him innocently enough and going along with it. You buffer every little turn of phrase and slightly off-color hint of what he wanted from you with grace. So tactfully done he begins to doubt himself. You couldn’t be misconstruing his intentions right? He hasn’t doubted himself like this in a long time.

Diavolo catches on quickly to the kicked puppy look Lucifer tots around in your presence. He’ll tease, but try to help. He’s a decent wingman truth be told. “How has Lucifer been treating you? I haven’t seen him this happy in ages. He is a great friend to have, yes?” Kinda backfires when you agree that he is indeed a good friend. Oops.

He’ll crack one night over a glass (or bottle) of something strong he pulled from his study. You had slipped into his room unannounced asking for a quiet place to read before bed.  The interruption to his musings leads to him running his mouth and pile driving his pride into the ground.

He can’t say no to you anymore. He really should. You were hell bent on keeping him at an arm's length, so he should too. Lucifer watches you like a hawk from behind his desk. His ungloved fingers swirling the dregs of his drink. The cognac inside of it looking up at him, his scowl reflecting in the rich red liquor. Don’t judge me. He scoffs at himself, was he that far gone that he was arguing with his glassware? Should have switched to the bottle hours ago.

“Luci?” You say again waving a hand in his face. “You forget to sleep again this week?” Your smile was warm, a little twinkle in your eye drawing a heat to his collar that had nothing to do with the spirits. You sit on the edge of his desk in your sleepwear. The baggy shirt and sweats reeked of his brothers.

“No.” He lies pushing his desk chair away. “Did you need something?”

You shrug hopping off the desk. “Not really. Wasn’t feeling movie night. You ok if I hang out here? It’s nice and quiet.” You slink off to the couch in front of the fire before he could answer.

“You could not do this in your room?” Lucifer snips. He tosses back the rest of his drink and rises to his feet. He grimaces at the burn spreading across his throat. “I’m sure it is quiet in there too.” He catches your eyes looking over the back of the lounge. While everything lower than the bridge of your nose was blocked by the black velvet he could feel the frown growing on your face.

“Well, yes. But I still want some friendly company. Just not rowdy company, I thought you wouldn’t mind...”  

Devils. There was that word again. "You assume to know me?" He cannot hide the venom lacing his words. The liquor had dulled his senses enough that he could not hide his rancor.

“I’m-” You leave the chair coming around it to give him your full attention. This wasn’t like him. Not anymore at least. But you were used to the odd mood swings that plagued your companions. "I don’t assume anything about you Luci. But if you want to talk-"

“I don’t want to have some idle friendly chit chat.” He could feel the tantrum coming. “Have I not proven myself capable of-” His jaw snaps shut with an audible click that echoes across the spacious chamber.

“Of?”

A noticeable blush grows on his pale cheeks. “More.” He sighs deeply, he feels light-headed at the admission. Whether it was from the drinks or from going against his nature and swallowing his pride he couldn’t tell. “Am I not enough to be more than a friend to you?”

That takes you by surprise. You had speculated that he harbored feelings for you. Diavolo all but cementing the idea in your mind. But, this was Lucifer. It felt like just yesterday you were at each other's throats, before he recognized you as something other than a threat to his family. You wanted to respect that little bit of trust he had given you. “It’s not like I never thought about it.”

“But?” He perks up slightly hearing the unspoken word in your inflection. He could see your apprehension yet there was a shimmer of something else underneath. Something he could work with.

“I was- I am scared.”

“Finally, a reasonable response from being around demons.” Lucifer snorts.

“Hey! You know that’s not what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. Explain it to me.” He invades your space waiting to see what you would do. Run or stay. He would have his answer either way. You don’t move, instead, you wrap your arms around yourself. Guarding yourself yet standing firm. One of the many reasons why he admired you.

“I feel like we just became friends. I didn’t think you felt the same and I didn’t want to mess this all up.” You confess. “I just thought it would be easier this way.”

Lucifer absorbs your words quietly, nodding at the logic behind them. “Messes are not something I generally like true, but," He reaches for you, careful of your defensive stature to lead you back to the couch. “If you are willing to iron out the bumps with me I’d like to see what we can make of it.”

If it meant he could have you he would take as much time as you needed.

Belphegor

It takes him the longest to notice that you were trying to keep him at arm's length emotionally. It was hard for him to see at first since you still readily accepted his invitations to snuggle and hang out.

He thought he was very blatant with his desire for you and your affections. The head pats and evening is the planetarium or his attic.

The fact that he had apologized for that little murder mishap. He thought that was a big bright neon sign. Yet you always seemed to try to invite someone else along to chill or leave quickly after an hour or so. As much as he loved his twin and tolerated his other brothers he was trying to get you ALONE.

He starts trying to see you outside the house now too. Lunch in the cafeteria? Pffft. You are going to eat and nap with him in the courtyard. After School activities? Could you help him with some council stuff instead?

Yes, he will go out of his way to do work if you are involved.

You are still too closed off though. You act around him like you do around any of the other brothers and it drives him crazy. You are just so friendly and cordial with everyone. How come he is the only one that becomes a flushing mess now?

He becomes your second shadow, almost as bad as Mammon. You start to get an inkling of his intentions when he starts wanting to sleep in your bedroom at night instead of his or the attic. You let him but offer up the couch or split the bed with a pillow.

He snoops when he gets desperate. Did you like someone else? Was that why you were constantly acting like his advances were just him being overly friendly? He doesn’t find anything, you act like this around everyone else too.

He gives up. Stops interacting with you entirely. He is 99% sure he can sleep through the next century without being bothered. Maybe he’ll get over you by then.

“Belphie? You up here?” The demon in question opens a bleary eye to his locked door. He should stay quiet, leave you hanging. Give himself some vindictive pleasure in snubbing you.

“Hai~” He rises from his nest of blankets and pillows. “Hold on.” Unlocking the door he opens it ajar. You smile around the large stack of books and binders in your arms. “What is that?” Please don’t say homework.

“Work you’ve missed sulking up here.” You confirm his worst fear. “Satan and I thought we would spot you a bit though.” Belphegor watches you struggle for a second to pull a folded piece of paper out from the middle of the stack. “We got most of the answers done for you. Now you just have to fill the worksheets in with your handwriting.” You wave the paper expectantly.

Hearing his brother’s name makes him sour immediately. How long had you been hanging out with him now? “Thanks, leave them at the door then.” He goes to shut the door and return to his dreamless slumber but it’s blocked by your foot.

“Ouch.” You wince hopping back on one foot.

“Idiot! Are you hurt?” He wrenches the door open crouching down to take a look at your sock-covered foot.

“Nothing I can’t walk off. Though my arms are getting sore- weak human muscles an’ all.” You hint wiggling the stack in your arms. He takes the work this time, still eyeing your foot. “Relax, I’ve stubbed my toe with more force than that before.” You whisk by him, using his brief moment of distraction to slip by.

“Did I invite you in?” Belphegor eyes you with a frown. He kicks his door close and dumps the pile of papers on his already over-encumbered desk. Hmm. How many days had he missed?

You ignore him plopping down on the still warm sheets. “Nope!” You pop the ‘p’ with a grin. “But that has never stopped you from sneaking into my room. So fair trade all around.” You pat at the bed, clearing inviting him to join you. “Come on. I’ll help you finish that work then we can chill.”

Oh, now you want to hang out. He felt a rush of bitterness wash over him.  “Don’t you have something better to do?” If this keeps up he’ll need another nap, alone preferably. “Doesn’t Asmo need a shopping buddy or something?”

“What’s gotten you all worked up?” You frown, hurt by his accusatory tone.

Belphie shoots you a wounded look. "We never hang out anymore." He sulks. "Alone, I mean. I'm tired of you always inviting Beel or someone else with us."

He glances over to you idly thumbing at one of the books on his desk. It's frustrating. This game of touch and go he accidentally got himself into. Ugh- why did this have to be so hard. "I want to spend more time with you. Just us, so why are you always avoiding that?" 

"I.” You look down at your feet dangling off the side of his mattress. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I just felt like- like things were going off the rails between us.” You weren't oblivious to his advances.

He cocks his head in confusion. "Mmm? What are you afraid of?" You read a flicker in his eyes, a haunting memory of cruel fingers around your neck darken his gaze. "Ah-"

"No! No that's not it!" You panic waving your hands up. Of course, he would immediately go to that. "I'm just worried. I know you like me, and-just what if things don't work out? What if you realize what a mistake this could be?"

Your admission gives him pause. So you knew this whole time? Not surprising; he wouldn't fall for someone stupid. "So, are you admitting to liking me back?" He feels giddy when you nod, covering your heating face with your hands. " Well then, what’s the problem? It’s not a mistake if we both are making it.” He grins slyly. “How can it not work out if the feelings are mutual.”

“But what if you are mistaken?” He wraps you up into his arms, flopping you both over onto his messy bed. He takes one of your hands and places it on the top of his head all while burying his nose in your neck.

“Please,” He yawns, feeling his body grow heavy. “I don’t waste my energy on ‘mistakes’.”

[sunflowershouto]

crisis - shouto todoroki x fem!reader

a/n: enjoy! my requests are open, so if you liked this fic, please feel free to drop me an ask -leo

warnings: marital issues, mentions of parental neglect and abuse (in relation to todoroki's backstory), mild angst

because i write from a third person point of view, i recommend using the interactivefics extension! it replaces y/n, l/n, etc, with whatever you insert into the extension, and helps to make fics super immersive! it's a chrome extension, and you can find it in the chrome store.

[the song that inspired this fic is Crisis by Annie Eve]

𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒈 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚. . . 𝑰'𝒎 𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖. . . 𝑰'𝒎 𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖. . .

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐒

Y/N's keys chimed together softly as she dug them out of her coat pocket, her gloved hands struggling for a moment to take hold of the cool metal. Her face still stung from the cold of the snow outside, and she hurried to unlock the door to the apartment, stepping inside and letting her shoulders slump as soon as the door was shut behind her.

The place was silent, but a glance towards the kitchen, where a light shone dimly through the doorway, told her that Shouto was home.

Without announcing her presence, she slid her coat off, then removed her boots and placed them on the shoe rack, where they stood alone. The coat hanger in the entryway was the same way—her coat was the only one there, looking lonely as it hung in solitude from the rack.

"I'm hom—I'm here," Y/N called tentatively, catching herself before she could say the word 'home.' She lingered awkwardly by the front door, as though afraid to enter. "I'll get started on dinner soon."

There was a long silence as she crossed the hall into the living room, which was pristinely clean, but looked more like a picture from a catalogue than anywhere actually inhabited. The sofa cushions were uncreased, the table spotless and uncluttered. She stared at the room blankly, and realized that she felt like a stranger.

"I've already eaten."

There was no surprise, only a dull sting as she let out a soft sigh, pressing her eyes shut. "Alright. That's fine."

It had been a month of this already, and Y/N knew that most husbands, most couples, would have already worked a way around something like this—at the very least, they would have found a way to sweep it under the rug for a few more months, pretend that it didn't exist. But Shouto wasn't most husbands, and they were not most couples.

When Shouto wanted to hold onto something, he could take it to his grave; how else could he have gone for years without using an entire half of his quirk? She had always loved his stubbornness, admired him for his tenacity, but now when she looked at him, all she could see was a wall that she didn't know how to scale.

It was her fault, this whole argument. She had been the one to bring up the idea of having kids, she had been the one to press him on it, to try to have the conversation before he was ready.

They had been happy. If she had just left well enough alone. . .

Another long sigh drew itself from her chest, and she turned towards the kitchen, footsteps soft against polished hardwood. "Sho. . . Can we at least talk? Please?"

He was sitting at the kitchen table, staring down at an untouched mug of tea that Y/N could only assume had already gone cold. His dual-toned gaze flickered up towards hers for just an instant, and for a moment she thought she saw a spark of progress. Then the ice took over again, and he cast his gaze back down, his mouth bent into an uncomfortable grimace.

Y/N wasn't used to not knowing what to say to him; part of the reason that they had worked so well as a couple was their ability to practice utter candor with one another. This feeling of words being stuck on her tongue. . . It was foreign to her, daunting. Temptation to indulge in her anger sparked in her chest; it would be so easy to snap at him, to remind him with vicious fervor how badly he was hurting her, but those sparks died down as she took another look at his face. She knew that he was hurting too, that he was just as lost for words as she was. "Shou," she tried again, leaning against the doorway, her voice gentle. "We can't do this forever."

His grimace settled deeper into his features, and she saw his shoulders tense, his hands tightening around the ceramic mug. "What can we do?" he finally asked, brow creasing.

"We can talk about this. I know what you're scared of, Shou." Y/N crossed the kitchen to be at his side, her hand coming carefully up to the side of his face, fingertips skimming the red, rough skin over his scar. "You won't be like him. You won't be like your fath—"

"Don't."

Her breath caught in her throat at the feeling of his grip around her wrist, pulling her hand away from his face. His eyes were burning with something that rested in the valley between grief and rage.

His grip tightened again before he let her go, his chair wailing as he shoved it away from the table, his gait hurried as he rushed away from her.

Y/N could only watch as he left the kitchen and disappeared up the stairs like a ghost, drifting farther and farther away. Her eyes stung and a lump burned in her throat, and she fell into the seat that he had been occupying just a moment ago, burying her face in her arms.

She sat in silence under the dim kitchen light until her joints began to ache and her eyelids felt heavy. Eventually, she pulled herself up and padded slowly up the stairs, careful not to walk too loudly. The door to the bedroom felt heavier than usual, and the sight of Shouto lying with his back to her brought her pause. She didn't know if he was awake, if he knew that she was there or not, and part of her didn't care. He didn't move as she retrieved her pillow from her side of the bed and left the room, heading back down the stairs and finding a restless sleep on their barely-used sofa.

The events of that night had alienated her even further, and if there had been a wedge between them before, it now felt like a chasm.

Weeks passed with little change, and though they shared a space, Y/N could hardly say that it felt like they lived together. After the first few nights, Shouto had told her that she could have their bedroom—he would sleep on the couch.

Part of her was angry with him for it; even when he was being infuriating, he still found a way to remind her why she loved him. One kind gesture, however, wasn't enough to make up for almost two months of dysfunction. Y/N realized that she couldn't take this. Not for much longer, at any rate. She got home from work one cold evening, and found him as she usually did, sitting at his desk, handling paperwork for the agency.

"Shouto." Her voice was even, steady because she'd rehearsed this conversation in all its permutations before she'd even made it to their front door. She needed to be ready, or else she knew that she would break.

His hand tightened around his pen, and he froze for a moment, before setting it down and turning in his chair, not quite meeting her eyes. "Yes?"

"Look. . . I love you, but I can't do this. I can't stay here if you're going to act like I don't exist. If avoiding one conversation is worth our marriage, then fine. I'll accept that, but I won't stay. Do you understand?"

His eyes snapped to hers, widening ever so slightly. In that moment, he looked more attentive, more alert than he had in months. "Y/N. . ." His eyes fell shut and he leaned forward against the desk, raking his hands through his hair and drawing in a shaking breath. "I just- I need time. Don't go."

"I've given you time, Shouto," she shot back quickly, raising her voice slightly. "I need you to give me answers."

He fell silent again, staring down at the desk, his hands still tangled in his hair as he realized that he was stuck within an ultimatum.

She was deafened by his silence, and she looked to the side, jaw tightening before she began to step away and out of the room. "I'm going, Shouto." "Y/N—" "Don't."

As soon as she had packed her things, she left the apartment without sparing him another glance.

A week passed, and Y/N quickly realized how accustomed she had grown to living with Shouto; even when they had been sleeping in different rooms for weeks, it felt odd to live somewhere where he wasn't. She found it difficult to sleep in her friend's apartment, and even more difficult to eat with the growing uncertainty that was gnawing a pit in her stomach.

She knew that forgetting her notebook was a weak excuse to go back to the apartment, but she didn't have a better one, and part of her was too prideful to admit that she had simply missed him, that she was starting to feel like it was better to struggle with him than to try to move on without him. At the very least, she wanted to see him again, and maybe there was a little part of her that was hoping that he wanted to see her too.

It was late on a Friday night when Y/N drove back to their apartment, hoping that maybe he'd be asleep, and that she could sneak past him and he'd never have to know that she was thinking about coming back to him.

She tried to muffle the sound of her keys, but they rang loudly as she unlocked the door, trying to remain silent as she slipped back into the apartment. In her absence it had hardly changed; the furniture still looked unused, the kitchen was still perfectly clean. Shouto had never been the type to let his internal turmoil leak out into his surroundings, and Y/N didn't suppose that he was spending much time outside of his office.

She slipped off her shoes, then crept up the stairs without turning on the lights, navigating the dark apartment by memory as she made her way to the bedroom. The door was shut and the light was out, and a feeling of relief washed over her as she realized that he must have been asleep. Slowly, she pushed the door open, and stepped into their room.

Even in the dark, the room was achingly familiar; the colors that she and Shouto had picked out together stood out vaguely in the darkness, and it was all she could do not to succumb to the lump in her throat. She pressed forward, moving towards her nightstand and trying to ignore Shouto, who seemed restless as he slept alone.

When she realized that he was whimpering, she stopped dead in her tracks, her gut twisting. Nightmares were rare for him, but Y/N had always been the one who was there to pull him out of them; now he had no one, and guilt burned at her chest at the idea of leaving him there like that, forsaking him to the demons in his head.

Against her better judgment, she reached forward and flipped the switch on her nightstand lamp, washing the room in a dull, warm glow. In the light, she could see the sheen of sweat on his face, the way his muscles tensed and his face twisted in discomfort. Her heart ached, and she stepped toward him, her own heart pounding in her chest as she did.

This was a bad idea.

He wouldn't want to see her.

She should turn around and let him think that she had never been there.

God, if it wasn't hard to remember why she'd left him at all.

"Shouto," Y/N whispered, moving to his side of the bed and placing her hand lightly on his shoulder. "Shou, wake up. Please, wake up."

The way he started awake made her heart ache—his eyes were wild, ringed with dark circles, his face drained of all color. He searched the room frantically until his eyes fell on her, and his face softened immediately, his hand coming up to her face as though against his will. "Y/N. . ."

She gave him a bittersweet smile, compassion glimmering in her gaze. "You're okay, love. I'm here now." Tears welled up in her eyes as she took him in, took in how exhausted he looked, took in how much he was revealing as he stared at her.

He looked dazed by his swell of emotion, and he didn't hesitate to pull her into his arms, burying his face in the crook of her neck as the tension went out of his shoulders, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps. "I'm sorry, Y/N," Shouto whispered, his arms tightening around her. "All of this. . . All of this was because I was scared. I didn't think I could give you what you wanted, and you payed the price. And- And my mother-"

"It's okay, Shou," Y/N murmured, running a gentle hand through his hair. "You don't have to explain."

"No, Y/N. Listen. Please." He drew in another breath before he continued. "After you asked me about having kids, my father came to mind. I didn't—don't—ever want to be like him. But my mother. . . I would go to see her, Y/N, after we had that talk. And when I looked at her, and thought about what my father did. . . All I could see when I looked at her was you. You don't—you don't understand how badly that scared me, Y/N. And I felt, stupidly, that if I said anything about it, that it would make it real. I was too scared to take that risk." His voice was trembling now, vulnerable in a way you'd never heard from him. "Do you understand? I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"God, Shou," Y/N choked out, tears spilling freely down the sides of her face as she clung to him. "You should have told me. I could have- I could have helped you."

"I know, love," he murmured, and Y/N remembered for the first time in months how good it felt to hear him call her 'love.' "I'm still just. . . Learning."

"I'm sorry too. Walking out on you like that, I. . ."

"No, Y/N." He pulled back to stare at her intently, meeting her eyes directly. "You did what you had to do. You were right. You gave me every chance to talk, and I didn't take it. That's on me. I won't let you blame yourself for my mistakes—that's what he would have done."

She knew better than to argue with him, so she merely nodded before burying her face in his shoulder again, relishing in the feeling of having his arms back around her, of finally having broken through the walls that had been built between them.

Shouto was lying on his back with her draped over his chest, dancing on the verge of sleep when her voice broke the silence.

"For what it's worth. . . You would make an amazing father."

He didn't reply, but Y/N could feel his hold on her tighten, could hear his breath catching in her throat—and if she really listened closely, she could hear quiet sniffles as she drifted off to sleep, happy again in her husband's arms.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 (𝐻𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑔×𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟) 𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐾𝑖𝑚 𝐻𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑔 (𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧)/ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑆𝑚𝑢𝑡

♡♡ 𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑚, 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓𝑦 𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 @seacottons ♡♡

♡･ﾟ:*｡.:*･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:*｡.:*･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:*｡.:*･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:*｡.:*･ﾟ♡

Hongjoong tapped his pencil on the notepad impatiently, sighing for the 7th time in the minute that passed. He looked at the clock, signaling that it was almost 10:30.

Maybe I shouldn't have asked her to come. It's already late.

He had a tendency to forget that unlike him, most individuals don't like to stay up at odd hours of the night, especially not to work. But he always worked better and got inspired more during the nights. Something about the dark blue sky, crystal glittering stars and even the bustling sounds of the city awakened his senses, enticing him to start writing lyrics down, or play a few melodies on his piano. Of course, sometimes he had the usual composer's block, struggling to come up with the right music or words. Or he ended up feeling lonely and in need of comfort.

That's where Y/N came in. He'd always call her up and asked her if she wouldn't mind keeping him company, a pout always on his lips, almost like a child expecting to be refused. But she'd always be there for him, and he truly appreciated it. And tonight, he was particularly antsy about seeing her. He was getting anxious as more and more time passed and she was nowhere to be seen. Not even a text saying where she was exactly at the moment.

He was about to pick up his phone again to check up on her, when the rattling of the doorknob let him know someone was outside. He had obviously locked the door, never liking to be disturbed by anyone, so he wasn't surprised to hear the person on the other side knock. He got up and opened the door.

"Hi! I'm here!"

A dripping Y/N scurried inside the studio room, getting as close as she could to the heater that was next to the couch. Hongjoong stared in shock as a tiny wet trail was left on the carpet.

"Baby, did you walk here?" He asked, his voice full of concern.

"Well yeah....." She fidgeted with the sleeves of her sweater. "I didn't know it was going to rain and the weather didn't seem too cold, but then tiny sprinkles turned to a heavy downpour.....

But I'm here now!" She said that last part more enthusiastically, trying to ease his mind a little.

But now he felt even more bad than before. She could easily have gotten sick and it would have been his fault.

"You could have just taken a cab back home love."

Y/N pouted at him.

"I know...but I wanted to see you."

His heart melted at her words. She said the same words he had been thinking all night long. Taking small steps, he threw his hoodie over his head and held it out to her.

"Here. You'll catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes. Take them off and put this on. I'll go see if I can find some towels somewhere."

Y/N nodded and took it. She began unzipping her sweater as Hongjoong went out the door to check the supply closet at the end of the hallway. By pure luck, there was a wide array of freshly cleaned towels on the top rack. He grabbed 3 and placed them underneath his arm before closing the door and making his way back to the studio room.

"I found some towels for-"

He stopped abruptly when he saw Y/N standing there, completely naked. His eyes trailed down her body, some parts still dewy from the rain.

"What? You said to take my clothes of." She reminded him, snapping him out of his trance.

He cleared his throat.

"Well yeah.... I just assumed you'd keep your underwear on."

Y/N chuckled.

"But then your hoodie would get wet, then what would we do Einstein?"

Hongjoong smiled shyly. "I guess you have a point there."

Y/N was about to take a towel from him, but he pulled his arm away before she could reach for it.

"Allow me love."

He began patting her shoulders with the towel, getting some of the wet drops off them. Then he bunched some of her hair in the towel, squeezing any excess water out.

"Let me know if I accidentally pull too hard."

Y/N knew that wouldn't happen. He was always so careful and gentle when it came to these things. Once he was done with that, he discarded that towel and replaced it with another one.

"Jesus, did you get sucked inside a hurricane?" He teased her.

"You're so mean. I wouldn't even be in this condition if you didn't ask me to come." She retaliated.

"I know. I know love."

His hands began traveling down her torso, rubbing softly at her skin. He kept his gaze away when he swiped the towel across her breasts, making Y/N snort.

"Hongjoong, you've seen me naked at least 7 times. Stop acting so innocent."

He blushed at her words and hesitated to continue his task of drying her.

"Here, let me finish."

She took the towel away from him and finished the task he couldn't. She took the hoodie he had given her and threw it over her head, the length of it barely covering up to her mid-thighs, but it would have to do.

"You can turn around now, you drama queen." She rolled her eyes at his acting.

He turned his head and his heart fluttered as it usually did whenever she'd wear any of his clothing. It was kind of a reminder that she was his and his only, a sort of sense of ownership over her, as outrageous as it sounded. But Hongjoong would be the first to admit that he was indeed possessive over Y/N. She was just so beautiful and precious to him, he couldn't help but think that way at times.

He leaned and just pulled her into an embrace, holding her as if he hadn't seen her in years. Y/N reciprocated the action by wrapping her arms around his waist, getting the hint that he wanted to stay in that position for a while. He began caressing the back of her head, her hair still humid, but he didn't care. His other hand ran up and down her back, occasionally drawing random shapes into it.

Before he knew it, he was placing kisses on the side of her face, eventually kissing her forehead and resting his lips there. Y/N smiled fondly at that. Forehead kisses were Hongjoong's way of telling her he adored and cherished her profusely. He mentioned it to her one day when he had done that more often than any other times. Ever since then, she loved it when he did it, now knowing there was a meaning behind his actions.

Pulling back, he cupped her cheeks and squished them gently. Puckering his lips, he moved her face side to side, cooing softly at her.

"Who could not fall in love with such a cute face like this?"

She cringed at his words, but Hongjoong knew better. She did have a love-hate relationship with him babying her.

"You're such a dork." She let out a tiny yawn after she said those words.

Hongjoong pouted. "Oh love. I'm sorry for making you come out so late."

She shook her head.

"It's fine. Did you want something in particular?"

Hongjoong hummed softly, thinking about it. He wanted to hold her, that was for sure. But he also knew he wanted to try something, if she was up for it. Smirking, he brushed some hair off her face.

"Well.... I still have a few verses left to finish. What do you say if we try a little..... cockwarming?"

Y/N's ears perked up at the idea.

"Cockwarming?"

"Yes think about it love. Me nestled inside you, while you take a nap on my lap until I finish the song?" He looked to her with hopeful eyes.

She eyed him suspiciously.

"And what about when you're done?"

Hongjoong wiggled his eyebrows.

"Well, if you're not too tired, we could try something else."

Y/N giggled.

"Are you sure you'll be able to control yourself?"

Hongjoong smiled before picking her up and wrapping her legs around his waist.

"Only one way to find out love."

He set her down on his desk and began unzipping his pants. Taking his cock out, he stroked himself a few times before sitting down on his chair. Turning his attention back to Y/N, he pulled her off the desk, placing her on top of his thighs. He licked his fingers before slipping them in between her folds, wanting to make sure she was wet enough so it wouldn't hurt her in any way. He slowly slid them in and out of her, occasionally scissoring them, stretching her out. He glimpsed over at Y/N, who was biting her lip as she tried not to let out any noises.

"You worry about me, but I think it's you who won't be able to resist." He chuckled.

Y/N rolled her eyes. "We'll see."

Satisfied with his job, Hongjoong lifted her up and maintained eye contact as he slowly sank her down onto his length. They both moaned at the warm feeling, it had been so long since they were like this. Y/N let her legs dangle and she rested her face on his shoulder. Hongjoong wrapped his arms around her.

"Take a rest. I'll be done soon enough"

Y/N mumbled something incoherently, already dozing off thanks to Hongjoong's warmth and his scent that she loved inhaling. Muttering a small 'cute', he went back to work.

The words were now flowing even smoother than before. He always did say he worked a lot better if Y/N was around. The others would always think he was just being delusional, but he disagreed. Her presence just makes him more calm, serene and helps him focus. He'd often joke about her being his muse, but even she would often roll her eyes at his statement.

He didn't know how much time had passed, all he could hear was the sound of his pencil scribbling on the paper and Y/N's faint breathing on his neck. Once in a while, he'd give her thigh a gentle squeeze or kiss her arm that was wrapped around his other shoulder, where her head wasn't. He had completely forgotten he was even inside her.

He was only reminded of it when he looked at the time that was marking that it was almost midnight. He debated whether to wake her up and take her home, or rearrange the couch so it could become a bed. Eden was the one who suggested keeping a sofa that could turn into a bed, and even kept a couple pillows and blankets in the studio since Hongjoong practically lived there at times.

But then again, she looked so comfortable and peaceful, and it wouldn't be the first time he slept in the chair. Turning off the light, he began closing his eyes, wanting to drift off to sleep as well.

But then Y/N shifted in her sleep, causing Hongjoong to jolt up and hold her hips, thinking she was going to fall. She groaned softly and shifted even more, causing his cock to twitch.

Oh my God.

He thought he was doing so well, and he could cool himself down, but the feeling was too good. Without thinking about it, he began to gently roll his hips up against hers, ever so slightly so as to not wake her up. At least that was the plan.

He smiled mischievously though when he heard her moan against his ear. He could feel her growing wetter, making it easier for him to slip in and out of her.

"Fuck." He whispered to himself.

He was getting even more turned on by the fact he was practically fucking his girlfriend while she was asleep. He shouldn't get aroused by that fact, but he was. And to know that even in her sleep she was moaning boosted his ego.

Y/N fluttered her eyes open, whimpering slightly at being woken up with an intense need. She lifted her face and was met with Hongjoong's face, his eyes full of lust and desire as he continued rolling his hips against hers.

"I'm sorry baby. It was just too tempting."

He apologized, but she knew he wasn't the least bit sorry. And she wasn't mad either way. It was definitely one of the best ways to wake up. She placed her hands on his shoulders, to steady herself as she began grinding down on him, not wanting him to have his fun only. Hongjoong hissed at the change of pace, loving the way she looked: in his hoodie, on top of him and desperate to get some release.

Hongjoong's hands went to her waist, pressing her closer to him as he kissed her passionately, his tongue slipping inside hers. His hands wandered inside the hoodie, cupping her breasts and playing with her nipples, causing her to shudder and tighten around his cock.

Hongjoong pulled back, gasping for air.

"Fuck baby. If- if you keep doing that, I w-won't be able to last much longer." He told her, trying to hold back as much as he could.

Y/N chuckled and challenged him.

"Then make me cum."

Oh. Those 4 words always set Hongjoong off. One of his hands went down between her legs, his thumb playing around with her clit. His lips attached themselves to her neck as he sucked and nibbled on all her sensitive places, having memorized all of them. All of that, plus the way his strokes got even deeper and faster had Y/N whimpering and panting above him. Hongjoong pulled back only to tease her:

"What? You asked me to make you cum and that's what you're going to get love."

His free hand wrapped around her neck, squeezing it enough to make her dizzy, but not harshly. He growled in her ear:

"Now do it baby. Cum all over my cock. I want to feel you come undone before I fill up your pretty little pussy with my cum."

She threw her head back as she clenched around him, his words being the final straw for her to break and release all over him with a soft cry of his name. She hid her face on his neck, gripping him tightly as he helped her ride out her orgasm. Her walls clenching and squeezing him tightly had him coming undone seconds after her. She felt his hot cum coat her walls, his voice muttering curses as his movements stilled, trying to catch his breath.

After a minute, Hongjoong looked back at her.

"Baby? You good?"

She nodded. "Tired."

"I know love. Hold on."

Getting up, still inside her, he walked over to the couch and set her down. He began to miss her warmth as soon as he pulled out of her. Grabbing one of the previously acquired towels, he wiped her inner thighs where some of his cum had dripped out.

Y/N was pretty much half asleep by now. So Hongjoong tried to move her as little as possible as he adjusted the couch to turn it into a bed. Grabbing one of the blankets from under his desk, he covered Y/N with it and layed down next to her, pulling her against his chest.

He stared at her sleeping figure for a while, admiring her features and smiling to himself. His finger traced her lips slowly before he pecked them with tenderness.

"I love you Y/N."

He wasn't expecting her to answer, but she surprised him when she unconsciously nestled herself closer to him and mumbled 'I love you' back to him, causing him to giggle at her cuteness.

She truly was such a precious being.

♡･ﾟ:*｡.:*･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:*｡.:*･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:*｡.:*･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:*｡.:*･ﾟ♡

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Heyyyy! SO as a local comteologist- okay sorry lmao 😂 I was wondering! Could you maybe write about an mc that is very affectionate? Because I am like that and I would give my ALL and just everything for someone I love. So, maybe the guys are pretending to be asleep and they hear mc admitting her undying love for them? I don't want to burden you! So, I think Will, Jean, Leo and Napoleon would be fine :D

I love you! And please take care of your self cuz corona is a hondje- sorry lmao

Have all of my uwus my lovely, I relate HIGHKEY I’m ungodly affectionate irl~

You take care of yourself too! Tyty 💖💖💖 nothing to apologize for I love a good clowning, esp if Theo gets clowned in the process 😂😂

And never apologize for using my esteemed title I will die on this Comte-thirsting hill (☆｀• ω •´)ｂ

I hope these attempts bring you joy! 

William Shookspeare:

Our v creative playwright boy was just vibin’. He had a long day at the (obnoxious thespian voice) theater and while he loves the art with all of his being, the man is t i r e d. MC was late to bed and while he prefers to wait for her to join him no he is not horny perish the thought he just started dozing off from the exhaustion. He’s not sure when the lights go out, but he feels an immeasurable warmth around him. Faintly, he can make out a voice murmured at his ear, a gentle hand running through his hair. (I s2g if this bih says “Puck?” I’m gonna smack him for MC)

“Had a long day, hm?” He’s only just coming to, and can’t muster the energy to reply or open his eyes. “I’m sure this next performance will be the best one yet! You surprise me every day, Will...”

“Try not to work yourself too hard, sweetheart. Your work may one day be the world’s greatest marvel.”

He wasn’t sure what it was about the words that made his lips tremble. Was it the praise that always seemed to flow forth at a moment’s notice, the real kind he was so unaccustomed to? Or was it that unshakeable calm; her faith in him unmoved by any fear or doubt--the kind that made him wonder briefly if she was dull all those years ago. Now he was just thankful it was still here, no matter how undeserving he may be.

“But you will always be my entire world, my greatest marvel. I love you too much to let the world have you.”

Jeanne D’Arc (REEEEEE MY GOODEST BOY OTL):

It was early one morning, frost blossoming in fractals along the transparent surface of the bedside window. An inevitable, biting chill lingers in the room while the sun is fighting to climb past the horizon, its time so limited in these winter months. She watches as the light casts a gentle gray over the bare walls--something she promised to remedy soon--so reminiscent of how he appeared to her at first. Pure and bright, but still fighting off a darkness she knew so little about.

The thought made her draw him to her protectively, careful not to wake him up as she tucked him close to her heart. He was so warm, even despite the frigid weather. A product of his time as a soldier? She was never sure, but she was always touched by how often he used that warmth in service to her. 

She remembered earlier the other day, when she returned home from some grocery shopping with Sebas. Concern was overflowing from his stoic face--it was there if you knew where to look for it; his eyes a little more narrow, the line of his mouth closer to a frown. All at once his hands were reaching for hers, relieving her of whatever she allowed him to carry while walking into the kitchen alongside her. When Sebas stepped out again he took her hands in his, pressing them along his face. She had cried out, knowing her hands were freezing--it had to be painful to warm them in such a way. But he only smiled that beautiful smile to quell her distress, the one that always took her breath away, and insisted he could do no less.

“The same goes for me too, though, Jeanne.” she looked at the fierce mark on his face, so unworthy of someone so gentle. She resisted every urge to soothe her fingers across it, loathe to wake him up. She didn’t notice the fingers that twitched at her hip, his signs of stirring subtle. “Whenever you need me, whenever you can’t think of a good reason to walk out of this room. All you need to do is find me, okay? I love you so, so much.”

Leonardo Da Binchi (no i will not apologize. he deserves to be clowned, glorious moron):

Once again her lover was gloriously strewn across the library floor, arms crossed and fast asleep. An exasperated smile found her face at the sight. Perhaps it would have been a surprise at first, but nowadays she would just roll her eyes and walk past. Sometimes, if she was feeling forlorn or a little reckless, she would climb into his lap just as he was. He seemed to enjoy being woken up that way though, so of course she couldn’t give him the satisfaction every time; a woman likes to change things up. And sometimes she was too busy to spare the time.

Even so, the slowly dimming shadows under his eyes were a relief to see. While the celebration of his birthday could only be a blessing, she knew what a double-edged blade it could be. It invoked so many wounds that hadn’t yet healed. While she wished he would share that burden with her--however heavy it may be--she slapped her own cheeks lightly at the impatient thought. Give him time...

“I know you think you have to carry everything alone. And in some ways, it’s something I admire so much about you--the way you always seem to know just how to move forward. Like nothing can shake you.”

She leaned down close to him, bracing herself against the bookshelf as she pressed a kiss gently against his temple. “But know that whenever you find yourself wavering, or even if you just need a place to rest, I’m right here. I’ll always be right here. I love you so much more than you think, Leonardo...”

She stopped herself before she could finish the thought, knowing it wasn’t what he wanted to hear: “more than my own life.”

Napoleon Bonaparte (oh my little lion man...):

They were spending a nice afternoon in the courtyard, as a lovey-dovey couple do, and they went under the veranda to find some relief from the midday sun. Surprising literally no one, our sweet emperor started to doze after some yummy tea time snackies--drifting asleep against MC’s shoulder. She adjusted a bit to change the angle of the lean, making sure he wasn’t putting too much pressure on his neck. Little puffs of air made her bangs flutter as he breathed low and even, and she smiled.

He’d had a guard jobs back to back recently, which meant precious little time to spend with him. Restless and quieter than usual, she had suggested a little stroll together around the courtyard; admiring the flowers and telling him about the books she’d been reading to fill the silence of those lonely nights. It wasn’t long before he started to smile more, snickering when she gave ludicrous summaries of the characters and plot. 

Early that morning she had taken the time to make perfect tea time sweets, fully anticipating--and hoping--it would encourage him to rest. So often he would be worried about her missing out on things or trying to plan more elaborate dates, but if she were honest she didn’t care much for extravagance or constant excitement. These tender moments where he could trust her (and the mansion’s perimeter) enough to fall fast asleep, no nightmares in sight, was enough to fill her heart with so much joy.

“I know you can’t help but want to do everything you can for the people around you; protecting and serving others is your life. I never want to be a reason you feel you need to stop doing that.” She murmured in the silence, playing with the buttons on his coat with a faint smile. “But even so, remember you always have a home to return to. More than that, no matter how powerful or skilled; you’re also one man. A man I love more than anything else in this world, a man I always want by my side--if he’ll have me, that is.”

She took the hand that was entwined with her own, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his palm as his lashes trembled. “I love you, Leon. Whether I see you every moment of every day, or only in stolen moments between assignments. That will never change. There will be times where you belong to the whole world, but this” she placed a hand gently over his heart “will always belong to me. Let it lead you home to me, sweetheart.”

And because I can’t help myself, I added Comte, Mozart and Vincent:

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (he’s the melody I can’t get out of my head DON’T LOOK AT ME):

Despite all of his promises to quit his bad habits, she opened the door later that evening to find him fast asleep against the covered keys of the piano. His shock of white hair was nestled comfortably against his arms, piled together as a makeshift pillow. The sight made her think of those long, long nights in college; thinking you’d close your eyes for a minute--only to be adrift in seconds. 

Smiling wryly, she reached into a nearby closet to retrieve a blanket before draping it gently across his shoulders. Torn between waking him up and guiding him to bed or leaving him be, she decided on the latter. She got the feeling that waking him up would only mean “a few more minor edits” to the composition he was working on, leaving sleep an afterthought. While she knew he often couldn’t help himself, she didn’t want him neglecting his health all the same. 

She’d be back with some hot chocolate in a few hours, just how he liked it.

As she was about to slip back out of the room, the hand at his elbow clumsily grasped for hers resting on the covered keys. Heat bloomed across her face, ears burning as he clung to her warmth. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” She sat down on the piano bench carefully, trying not to jostle him awake. “Your music will never stop being the most beautiful and soulful sound I’ve ever heard. But even a mind as impressive as yours needs plenty of rest--even more so, I’d wager. You work yourself too hard sometimes, Wolfie.” She leaned until her shoulder brushed his, “But I’ll always be here to make sure you don’t overdo it too much. Sweet dreams my only love.”

Vincent van Gogh (he’s babie your honor):

MC was on her laundry rounds, Vincent’s aprons now thoroughly washed and folded for his use once again. She knocked on the door murmuring a greeting--though fully anticipated he might not respond. While he was usually so sweet and attentive, it was almost like he became an entirely different person when painting. Utterly serious, intensely focused; any attempts at speaking to him would require many tries before he came back to himself with a beaming smile. 

She sighed dreamily, easily picturing it. His eyes would always be stunning, a cerulean to rival the calm waters of the Mediterranean Sea. But in the midst of his greatest passion? They burned bright enough to make her forget the rest of the world existed.

Trying not to embarrass herself on unsteady feet, she opened the door cautiously to find his easel abandoned. Shocked, she scanned the rest of the room until she found him strewn across the couch; a blanket haphazard in its provision of cover. With a gentle smile she stored away the fresh aprons in the dresser before she approached him, kneeling close to the couch so that she could tuck him in properly.

He let out a pleased little huff before shifting slightly in his sleep, body angled in her direction. There was a faint smile on his lips, evidence of what was likely a pleasant dream or peaceful rest. She traced the outline of his ear cuff with insatiable fingers, eyes glistening a little when he nuzzled into the faint touch--trapping her between his cheek and his arm. 

“You’re more precious to me than anything else in this world, Vince,” the murmur was barely audible, he didn’t stir. “I can’t imagine my life without you, and if I’m honest--no part of me really wants to imagine it. This warmth is the greatest gift I’ve ever known; thank you for choosing to share it with me. I love you so much, sweetheart.”

Le Comte de Saint Germain (SAN GERUMAN HAKKSHAKKU):

Every day is a long ass day when you have 10+ children (yes, Leonardo, you are in that child count I hope you’re happy >:| ). For all his half-hearted complaints about the exhaustion and noisiness though, he loves his bubs, and wouldn’t have things any other way.

Even so, it doesn’t stop the delighted giggling that shakes her shoulders when she finds him fast asleep in his favorite armchair. His tie is undone and askew, head lolling to the side--any attempt at his usual poise long forgotten. While she most often found him to be charming and delightful, she loved it even more when he felt comfortable sharing these parts of himself too. 

She set aside the tea she would always have prepared at this hour and reached for the coat he had draped across the opposite chair, settling it carefully over his form. Resisting every urge to join him--Sebas would need her help preparing dinner--she carded a hand through his hair, tucking it behind his ear so it wouldn’t tickle him while he was asleep.

He was so lovely like this, face unmarred by the weight of several lifetimes that found him when he was awake. No matter how early she rose when they were together, she rarely ever got the privilege of seeing him a little drowsy, lost to rest as he was now. She brushed light kisses to his eyelids, smiling when he half-sighed her name.

“Tuckered yourself out did you? You big worrywart.” She resisted the urge to find his hand and entwine it with hers. “I promise to watch over them, so rest easy, my dearest love.” She played with the collar, tucking him in further. “I know everyone here is precious to you. But remember that you’re the most important person in my life too,” she leaned her forehead gently against his. “While I love to see everyone get along, I love to see you happy and well-rested even more. You’ll always be the only one for me, [insert Comte’s real name].” 

Bonus continuation because I still can’t help myself apparently, somebody please take my laptop away from me:

Arms like steel bands enclosed her in his embrace, a sleepy exhale washing over her ear as she shivered a little at the sudden warmth.

“Mm, ma cherie, surely you didn’t think you’d get away with that kind of teasing...”

“But I wasn’t teasing you! I was completely serious.”

Laughter shook his chest and hers too, making her melt at the undisguised affection in the hands that settled her close to his heart.

“Then you must be punished for such foul play. To think you would ruthlessly attack me while asleep, bien-aime.”

“And how might I atone for this egregious indiscretion?”

She could feel him smile against her shoulder, the rascal. “Stay here a little while longer with me.” As if he had any intention of letting her go. Not that she minded, honestly.

“Threaten me with a good time.” she mumbled, stroking a hand soothingly along his back as they closed their eyes for a while.

A few more minutes couldn’t do any harm, could it?

[mochaasaturn]

☾︎ Fierce Deity Link ☽︎

°•☆•°☾︎•°☽︎°•☆°•

My headcanons are not canon btw !!

His love language: honestly I can see him being is gift giving and acts of service, he doesn't like to be touched but when he's comfortable with his s/o he'll definitely be clingy but not annoying he knows his limits, he can also get real emotional when he gets hugged or cuddled because he had to be strong for most of his life without even thinking of being with someone, he's definitely love deprived pls and I mean pls get this man some affection he deserves it

His taste in music: hmm...I think he would love rock or even heavy metal, it makes him feel even more powerful and upbeat :]]

His fav animals?: I think he'll like owls, big cats aka tigers, leopards, panthers, and lions. He would also like bunnies because they're fluffy :D

His fav foods! : he would LOVE and I mean LOVE spicy noodles anything thats spicy he could and def would handle, he would also like to eat different countries foods, he probably wouldn't like things that r way too sweet or too salty but he LOVES spicy and sour, salt and sweets are rare for him to enjoy maybe like occasionally

His fav colors would be: maroon, turquoise blue, forest green, light sliver, and neon yellow

Any allergies?: he would have tree allergies like possibly cherry tree pollen or the smell to it he would sneeze alot to the point he's all stuffy LOL

Does he make stuff?: OH ABSOLUTELY he's impressively good at crochet, for a swordsguy he has his alone time with crocheting here and there and he doesn't even have to look or focus on it, its basically his talent, he gave young link a crochet bunny hat and sword its impressively good too.

what is his style?: I don't really see him being goth or anything like that tbh maybe he would be dark academia with alot of piercings

What piercings does he have?: he has a septum, LOTS of piercings on both of his ears, he has a nose bridge and a bridge (ERL), he has snake bites :]]

What mental illness does he (maybe have): i would think he could suffer from MMD major depression disorder, thats why he's just slient most of the time he could also suffer from social anxiety since he doesn't get to socialize alot with the others only with young link.

What is his type of s/o: good question, I honestly think he would be into the strong/bold type of women/man/they he loves a woman or man or they to take care of themselves! Of course he'll still protect you and stuff but he HATES when his s/o is clingy, he doesn't mind it in romantic moments though but saving the world is important to him while he's at work.

What is his sexuality?: I headcanon him to be asexual! Look i get it he may pull people but he would politely decline if they go THAT far with him, he loves romance but has no attraction to sex, making out is probably how far he'll go but it ends there, if you force him to even try or ask he'll straight up leave and probably hide for years.

Does he make the first move or do I have to?: well...he is VERY quiet and it can be unnerving for awhile too, he stays quiet mostly because of anxiety he doesn't want to say the wrong thing or get himself embarrassed so you'll probably have to make the first move or at least try he usually gives you gestures like thumbs up! OR you can write on notes and possibly show him how to draw he would love that.

How romantic is he?: he is 50/50 basically let's say you massage his shoulders or back and of course in return he'll give you massages too, if you gave him a present he'll immediately go craft something for you! So he's pretty romantic :)

(I know they're hylians but like what type tho?? Talkin about ethnic!) What would his ethnicity be?: definitely French or Irish but I can't really see him being Irish only French HELP

Thats all the headcanons I got for now if you guys want to ask me questions I would gladly answer! This was fun to make hoped you guys will love it!