#and his expression was pretty neutral/blank

[dustinslovehandles]

I swear I mean this in the nicest way possible, but there is something about seeing Trent's eyes when he was standing at the barricade during Orange's match that remind me of cow. They are big and brown and politely waiting for you to do something.

...the something is violence in this case, but still.

[inkytoru]

any characters of your choice reacting to tongue and nipple piercings :p I look forward to your writings

♯┆ TEAM TONGUE PIERCING OR TEAM NIPPLE PIERCINGS .ᐣ.ᐟ ★

★ 𓂃 CHARACTERS: rafayel, sylus, zayne, xavier ★ 𓂃 A/N: 18+, mdni. FIRST REQUEST ON THIS BLOG FULFILLED LFG!! been itching to write for the lads boys so i'm hoping you like them fjshgglgjs thank you for the request! i defaulted to a gender neutral reader since you didn't specify. also, caleb isn't included because i just got introduced to him in the story, and i also apologize if characterization might be off; i am also relatively new to writing the lads boys and to the game ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ RAFAYEL

he’s batting for team nipple piercings! as an artist, he has a fine eye and aesthete’s appreciation for human anatomy, especially yours. he not only loves your mind and personality, but your body as well. no matter your size or whether you have cellulite or stretch marks, he will remind you time and time again that he still loves every inch and curve of yours regardless. he would love to watch the way the metal of your piercings would catch just right in the light as he pounds into you. if you have tits, he’s definitely grabbing at them and admiring the way your piercings accentuate them. planting kisses all around them, maybe even cooing to them just to fluster you. “you complement them so beautifully, don’t you?”

rafayel is staring so hard at your chest, you think he’s committing the shape of it to memory. there is a blank expression etched onto his features. “so uh… do you like them?” you ask cautiously, starting to raise your hands to self-consciously cover your now pierced chest. “don’t.” he stops you, grabbing your hands and pulling them away, gaze still glued to your pierced nipples. finally, after about what felt like an eternity, his eyes flicker up to meet yours halfway and he nods approvingly. “the human figure is already a marvel as it is, but this? you’ve somehow managed to make it a sight to behold.” . . . “rafayel…” “mm?” “stop talking to my nipple piercings as if they’re re— ahh!” at that precise moment, your cheeky boyfriend decides to ram right into your core, feigning obliviousness. “what was that, love? couldn’t quite hear you over how pretty your nipple piercings are.” “that doesn’t even make sense!”

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ SYLUS

this man is going right for the nips, baby. he already knew you were going to get them, as he does most things. it seemed like a very you thing to get—so naturally, he figured you would. absolutely goes feral over how they look on you, by the way. terribly down bad, even. he can’t resist licking his lips whenever he catches them protrude through your shirt, or when you’re riding him. definitely one of his favorite piercings on you, he thinks it suits you well. sylus would also playfully tug at them when you’ve been a bit too mouthy with him, and would even lick at them. he wouldn’t mind the metallic taste so much; blood was no different, anyway.

“oh? what’s this, kitten?” sylus asks, groomed brow arched as a smirk begins to curl upon his lips. “surprise!” you exclaim as you proudly show off your newly pierced nipples, beaming ever so cutely up at your boyfriend. “it was only a matter of time,” sylus’ deep chuckle spurns confusion onto your face. “what do you mean?” “i knew you were thinking of getting them.” a pout forms on your mien as you cross your arms across your chest. “no fair. it was supposed to be a surprise…” . . . your sweet, sweet moans were always a symphony sylus could never tire of hearing. they were all the more sweeter now that your nipples were no longer bare. he was immensely pleased that you would wear the jewelry he’d custom order and buy for you, and it would be a treat for him to get to watch them as you bounce up and down on his leaking cock. “so gorgeous, my beautiful baby,” his voice would drip with lascivious desire. looking at the little dual charms with his initials engraved upon them jerk around as you lose yourself on his lap would never fail to be one of his favorite pastimes.

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ ZAYNE

tongue piercing enjoyer, though was neutral about it at first. didn’t quite understand why you would undergo the process to have metal pierced through your tongue—but being the considerate doctor he was, he’d ensure that the healing process went smoothly for you. his tune would soon change once he sees the way you’d lewdly gaze up at him as you slobber all over his cock, pierced tongue on full display. merely thinking about it would even get him hard, so he was secretly grateful it was in a less conspicuous place than other piercings.

“babe, look!” you singsong as you run over to your lover’s desk as he was finishing up his paperwork before going on break. “yes, lo—” he’d start saying as he takes a moment to organize the papers, cutting himself off when his stare finally shifts to your face. you were lolling your tongue out with half-lidded eyes, even wiggling it a little for emphasis on the stud now perfectly nestled within the center of the muscle. zayne was speechless for a moment before a frown and furrow in his brows appear on his visage. he exhales as he sets the papers down, concern flashing in his eyes. you falter a bit. “what’s wrong?” “you know you can’t perform oral intercourse or do any kissing for at least three weeks, right?” a look of horror dawns on your face. “what?!” his lips twitch, fighting a smile as he watches you panic adorably. “standard aftercare procedure,” he says, voice warm. “but don’t worry… once you heal properly, i’ll make sure it’s worth the wait.” . . . the three weeks were definitely worth the wait, zayne thinks to himself while you had a mouthful of his cock underneath his desk. he groans, deft fingers carding themselves through your hair. he wasn’t expecting that the added cool sensation of the metal would heighten his arousal, and yet here he was, head thrown back against the back of his office chair with his eyes shut in bliss. “just like that…” perhaps the three week abstinence period you also instated just so the experience of the piercing during a blowjob had helped. either way, zayne would take a liking to your new look; it grew on him the more and more you’d swirl your tongue around the base of his cock.

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ XAVIER

wouldn’t have much of an outward reaction to your newest body modification, if his prolonged silence over your messages were to say anything. it disappointed you, but little did you know internally, xavier’s brain was actually steaming from how sexy he found you with it. he just wasn’t sure how to articulate this to you due to his awkwardness—but his sudden increase in requesting for blowjobs would tell you everything you needed to know. (his breath had also hitched in his throat when he initially saw it, but you wouldn’t have known.)

xavier looked at his phone, blinking a few times. you had sent him a rather risqué selfie with a wink and your tongue stuck out just enough for your new piercing to be caught on camera. you mistake his silence for disinterest, as he wouldn’t respond for fifteen long minutes later. first, he had to refrain his hardest from relieving his newfound problem in his trousers as he had an important UNICORNS meeting to attend in the next few minutes. but, the poor boy couldn’t wait till the meeting was over; he’d excuse himself for a restroom break where he’d lock himself in the nearest janitorial closet and hastily pull his pants down to fist his cock in his hand. images of you on your knees before him would flash through his mind. he made sure to send you a more than risqué selfie back without a single word. . . . thrilled your boyfriend eventually had assuaged your fears of him being turned off by your new tongue piercing, you were quick to greet him excitedly once he got home. xavier would curtly greet you back, before demanding you lay on your back so he could hurriedly slot himself in between your legs and piston relentlessly into you. he’d make sure you had your tongue hanging out too; with his phone in hand, he’d take a few photos to commemorate the day. to this day, they’re some of his favorite nudes of yours to date.

© INKYTORU — do not repost, translate, feed AI, or plagiarize any of my content. please refrain from sharing or recommending my work on other platforms outside of tumblr such as tiktok.

[revelboo]

All I can picture with the latest My Favorite Accident update is trying to introduce two cats to each other by smell through a closed door. KO is our housecat (or are we his human? 🤔) who is very protective of us and then BD bites our fingers when we try to let them get used to each other (it was going fine! We swear!) and suddenly KO is swatting the shit out of him because he’s the only one who can bite us excuse you

Pretty much the way his processor is responding to seeing you being manhandled by someone that’s not him.

My Favorite Accident Pt 14

Knockout x Reader x Breakdown

• Backpedaling as that spinning saw whines through the air inches from his chassis, grazing him to shower sparks and hurt, Breakdown stumbles and goes down. And he’s never seen Knockout like this, optics angry and smiling like that. Head tipping as he stands over him, he slowly extends his arm and Breakdown’s chin is forced up to avoid the blade. Knockout can’t possibly be this angry over him roughing up one, little human. Knockout knows him. And as awful as it is, his spike stirs. Responding to the dominance and anger with arousal. Frag. “You know I don’t like it when my favorite toys get taken away,” Knockout whispers, voice a low, angry purr. A seduction. “When they’re broken.”

• Head tilting at the sound of you limping away, his smile becomes brittle. You’re limping. “I wouldn’t have to steal your toys if you’d spend any time with me,” Breakdown counters, tone bitter, drawing his attention and the bigger mech’s yellow optics narrow in challenge. In anger. And it’s empowering to tower over him for once. Even as there’s a whisper of guilt at neglecting him, for making him feel like he wasn’t needed anymore. Had the big moron really thought he’d replace him with a human? “Or do you prefer squishies now?”

• Limping for the wall, you have no idea how you’re climbing up that slope without help when your entire body feels bruised. You don’t think anything is broken, but if they start genuinely fighting, you want to be far away. So over aliens and getting involved in their bullshit. Jealous maybe-boyfriends especially. You like hanging out with Knockout, taunting each other, but it’s hardly worth getting stomped for.

• “Please,” Knockout sneers, retracting the blade. “You can’t be serious.” But the medic’s head still turns to track your slow progress. Venting softly when you start clambering up the slope only to slide back down with a little squeak of noise and what he suspects is swearing. Lips quirking as you immediately make another attempt, he watches Knockout transform his weapon back to a hand, striding after you and leaving him sprawled on his back. It’s a slight, but better than feeling that blade. “What is it about you that just seems to make everyone want to murder you?” Knockout growls and you look up at him, expression relieved. Spark twisting uncomfortably at that, it’s strange to watch Knockout bend and pick you up by the back of your covering to set you back on your feet, a clawed servo lingering on your arm. On the way your skin is discolored and Knockout turns that deadly smile his way again.

• Using a servo to carefully lift your arm, there’s a flicker of anger at the bruises that Knockout can’t ignore. That Breakdown damaged you at all leaves him cold and furious, and your expression is guarded when you look up at him. “Must be my winning personality,” you say, trying to pull away and he hooks his servo around you. That neutral edge in your voice. Like you’re not surprised or angry that you got hurt. Like you expect it. What is he going to do with you? Stiffening slightly when Breakdown eases closer and you tense, eyes narrowing. Afraid of the bigger mech though it flits across your face so quickly before it’s gone and your expression blanks again. Pretending you don’t care. You’re both so exhausting. Venting softly as he studies you and Breakdown, both of you idiots matter to him and he’s not choosing between you. But you’re going to both make his life miserable if you can’t at least pretend to get along to humor him.

• Shivering despite the warmth of the evening, you know you’re not escaping unless Knockout decides to let you so you just glare at his big, dumb boyfriend while he scowls right back. And you’re aching and just want to lay down. Yelping when Knockout vents, seizes you and just thrusts you at his buddy, forcing him to cup his hands and take you in self defense. Clinging to Breakdown’s servos, your mouth falls open because Knockout is striding away from both of you. Abandoning you with his boyfriend, the jerk. “What am I supposed to do with this thing?” Breakdown growls, holding you out in his cupped hands away from his frame and curling his lip at you. It’s only the very real threat that he might drop you that’s keeping you from flipping him off again. “Knockout, come get your fragging human.” And he’s jogging after the medic with you in his hands, getting jarred.

Previous

Next

[sturnioz]

please write a fic where she finds them. please.

PANTY 'STEALING' THIEF.

you're rushing up the stairs, skipping two steps at a time as you bolt toward chris' bedroom. the summer heat clings to your skin, and all you can think about is changing into something more comfortable—something less suffocating—to join the girls, and some of the boys, in the backyard to relax.

you push open the door quickly and step inside, closing it with a soft click behind you for privacy. you drop your backpack onto the bed and immediately start rummaging through it, your fingers brushing past your things until you finally pull out the clothes you've been searching for; a pair of denim shorts and a pretty camisole with ruffled edges and a small ribbon tied at the front.

as you straighten up, your jeans now removed and denim shorts on, you grab the hem of your shirt, ready to pull it off and change, but something catches the corner of your eye. you spot a sliver of lace peeking out from the edge of chris' dresser drawer—barely noticeable, but impossible to miss with your curious eyes.

your brows knit together as you paus, still clutching the hem of your shirt as you step closer to the dress, your head tilted to the side as you try to figure out what it could possibly be.

but you're too curious and nosy to be left guessing, so you let go of your shirt to reach out and brush your fingers against the fabric, giving it a few gentle tugs before the lace slips free from the drawer's grip.

this... is yours?

you blink down at the lacy panties in your hands, your lips pursing in deep thought as you trace your thumb over the pattern. yes, you recognise this now. this is definitely yours. you remember kitty dragging you into that lingerie store and insisting that you buy it.

you don't remember leaving it here, though.

in fact, you thought you'd lost it entirely.

your gaze flits back to the drawer again, and with a new wave of genuine curiosity, you pull open the drawer fully. your face remains neutral for just a split second before your composure crumbles—your lips parting in surprise and eyes widening as you take in the sight, seeing more lacy lingerie tucked messily inside.

most of it is from chris, pieces that he had bought for you to wear for him during sex, others are bought from the cash in your own purse. and just like the pair in your hand, you figured you'd lost them somewhere in your own home.

but no, they've been here all along... hidden away?

you're too busy sifting through your lingerie to not hear the bedroom door creak open behind you. it's only when the loud thud of something heavy hitting the desk breaks the silence that your head snaps up in alarm—like you've been caught doing something you shouldn't be doing.

chris is standing there beside his desk, his blank stare meeting your wide-eyed one, and for a moment, neither of you says a word. he's shirtless, his chest damp and glistening with a faint sheen of sweat. a cap sits backwards snugly over his messy hair, and his baggy shorts hang low on his hips, revealing just enough to make your eyes stay focused on his upper body.

"the fuck you doin'?" he drawls finally, his tone flat and uninterested as he dips his hand into his pocket, fishing out his lighter and keys, tossing them careless onto his desk beside his phone. "why're you goin' through my shit?"

"your..." you trail off, tone uncertain as you blink at him. slowly, you lift the lace between your fingers, pointing at it as if to prove your point. "but this is mine?"

"yeah," he says simply, shrugging his shoulders. "what about it?"

"but why—this is—" you stammer, struggling with your words as you have a difficult time forming a coherent sentence. you take a deep breath, your eyebrow raising as you pry. "are you stealing my underwear?"

chris lets out a scoff, scratching the corner of his lips as his eyes lock onto yours, his expression unreadable. "stea—a'ight, bun."

"this is stealing!" you gape, still shocked by your recent discovery by finding amusement in the absurdity of it all. "you... you panty stealing thief!"

"panty stealin' thie—" chris cuts himself off, dragging a hand down his face as if you're exhausting him out already. he pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a huff, clearly irritated by your choice of words. "you're bein' dramatic. you realise that, yeah?... panty stealin' thief— have you even noticed your shit gone?"

"well... no, but—"

"'kay," he interrupts, folding his arms across his chest. "'n have you even cared or bothered to fuckin' ask where it's gone?"

"...no."

he gives you a pointed look, one brow raised, as if to say 'case closed'. in his mind, he's just made a fool proof argument, but to you, it's ridiculous. you're a little dumbfounded by his logic, and a light giggle slips from your lips.

this situation is so silly that you can't help but laugh, "that's still stealing, chris."

"yeah? well i bought most of 'em," he replies with a lazy shrug, "m'just takin' my shit back."

you watch as he moves around his desk, pulling open those drawers to grab a few pre-made joints to take outside, and you purse your lips, genuine curiosity hitting you once again as you decide to probe further.

"why do you even have these anyway?" you ask, glancing down at the lacy fabric in your hand before looking back up at him. "what do you even do with them?"

chris raises a brow at your question, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he runs his tongue across his teeth, not even bothering to look at you fully as he answers, "y'know what i do with 'em, bun. use your big girl brain."

you use exactly that, sifting through your mind before your breath hitches, eyes widening as his words sink in. heat rushes up your check and burns your face, and you clutch the lace tighter in your hands as if it'll somehow protect you from the embarrassment you're currently feeling.

before you can find the courage to say anything, he's already pushing himself off the desk, re-pocketing his phone and lighter along with the joints as he glances at you.

"hurry up 'n get dressed," he says, tone shifting to something impatient. "kitty 'n bee wont stop fuckin' askin' where you're at downstairs."

divider credits. @issysh3ll

© STURNIOZ

[cece693]

SLASHERS MASTERLIST!

Michael Myers

Male Reader

My Pretty Boy Summary: M/n was a killer who used his good looks as bait to draw his victims in. Yet, you know who wasn't so keen on the idea? His boyfriend, Michael Myers. Sorry Summary: You knew Michael would never intentionally hurt you, but accidents do happen. And how can you stay mad at your boyfriend after he tries to make it up to you? Childhood Friends Summary: You couldn't remember your childhood, so with a plan to return to your old home in Haddonfield for clues, you never expected yourself to be tied to the boogeyman himself, Michael Myers.

Gender Neutral Reader

Captive Summary: You were a witness to one of Michael's killings, however, instead of killing you, he'd taken you as a prisoner. How odd... Silent Pursuit REQUEST: Michael Myers chases you after he attacks your home and then BOOM smut (be warned, no smut but lead up to it)

Hannibal Lecter

Male Reader

Velvet Ring , Velvet Ring Pt. 2 and Velvet Ring Pt. 3 Summary: Before Hannibal Lecter became the Chesapeake Ripper, he was a mute boy sent to an orphanage. There he meets you—a boy who slowly wins his affection. However, nothing good ever lasts. Give Me Attention REQUEST: Hannibal smitten with male surgeon who doesn't want to be his friend. Me, Jealous? Summary: Hannibal's husband doesn't react to jealousy, but his little cannibal certainly does. You Can't Outrun Fate Summary: When M/N feels that Hannibal is losing interest in him, favoring being in Will Graham's presence, he flees. It takes a year or more but Hannibal returns, and won't let M/N leave again. Always, Forever Summary: M/N wanted this nightmare to end—he regretted ever meeting Hannibal Lecter, accepting his friendship, and more painfully, allowing the doctor into the darkest dwellings of his mind. Where M/N and Hannibal face each other during the Mizumono episode. Pretend Summary: You faked being attracted to Alana to gain insight into the FBI, never knowing that it would set off your boyfriend's possessiveness. Nothing Can Bring Me Back Summary: Hannibal was indeed a person suit, but also a safety net to a man who'd lost everything: his child, his lover...his heart. Hannibal/The Hunt crossover. My Mirror REQUEST: Reader has NPD and doesn't form a connection with anyone till he meets Hannibal. A bit self-indulgent, but Hannibal is fascinated by the prospect of being 'special' to a narcissist. Bound By Appetite Summary: Hannibal was with your sister Alana, and you were trying things out with Will. However, the cannibal isn't willing to lose you to such a pig.

Gender Neutral Reader

No Feelings Allowed Summary: Hannibal seeks to destroy his feelings because love was something the little boy from 1945 knew all too well, not the monster that had replaced him. Devotion in the Ashes Summary: Hannibal is devoted to the person who truly sees him—the one who's been there since Misha and even before that tragedy took place. Birds Of A Feather REQUEST: reader is off-putting constantly? always has a blank expression and is just really morbid to the point of weirding out other people. And if possible, could reader have an obsession with rats? Platonic. Handcuffs Summary: You made Hannibal Lecter fall in love with you, however, that doesn't mean that your cannibal suddenly turns into a normal person. You can't declaw a predator, nor do you want to. Secretary Summary: Hannibal told Crawford that his secretary was 'pre-dispositioned by romantic whims' and traveled to the United Kingdom. However, it's rarely as simple as that. Protect Summary: You didn't care if people were against your relationship with Hannibal, calling you all names under the sun for managing to 'bewitch' one of Baltimore's highest socialites, but Hannibal was a different story. mano mažylė and mano mažylė Pt. 2 Summary: How would things turn out if Hannibal raised a child on his own? Not that good. Platonic. Are We Real? REQUEST: reader who is aware of Hannibal's facade but not of his true nature. Perhaps reader feels insecure in their relationship as they have a hard time telling whether or not the facade he has for the people is also kept up between them? Quite The Pair REQUEST: More Hannibal please

Various

Gender Neutral Reader

Slashers With A Serial Killer Lover REQUEST: slashers' reaction when discovering that their lover is a serial killer

Jason Voorhees

Male Reader

Oh No, He's Hot! Summary: What m/n believed would be a rather simple job has him encountering a masked murderer named Jason. But, oh no, why does m/n feel weirdly attracted to the dominant man? Social Recluse Summary: Even if you accepted Jason and his 'hobby', he understood you didn't like interacting with people. Staying hidden in your cabin, luck isn't on your side when a camp counselor stumbles inside.

Norman Bates

Male Reader

Well Mannered Son and Well Mannered Son Pt. 2 Summary: The rain didn't stop, causing you to pull over and seek shelter at Bates Motel. The attendant was cute but raised a hell of a lot of red flags. But who said you were the most sane to begin with?

Ethan Landry

Male Reader

He's Not The Killer REQUEST: Ethan is being accused by Chad of being Ghostface. His boyfriend doesn't like people disrespecting him. You Belong To Me REQUEST: Ethan is obsessed with you. So when you manage to discover he's the masked killer, Ethan sees no other choice than to kidnap you. My Boy REQUEST: Friends think Ethan's stuck in a toxic relationship, unaware that the boy actually encourages it.

Brahms Heelshire

Gender Neutral Reader

Clean And Tidy Summary: The Heelshire's never posted that nanny ad. After all, you were perfect for the job. Not only were you Brahms's nanny, but you were also the caretaker of the house when the Heelshire's were away. Touch Starved Summary: You are all too comfortable and willing to give physical affirmations to Brahms.

Stu Macher and Billy Loomis

Male Reader

Looks Can Be Deceiving and Looks Can Be Deceiving Pt. 2 REQUEST: Ok, but like imagine both Billy and Stu with a big tiddy goth! male! reader as their roommate. Reader looks intimidating but is actually really nice. Why? and Why? Pt. 2 Summary: M/n Prescott was a straight-A student, popular, good-looking, and kind. So why was he holding a gun and aiming it towards his sister? What was his motive? Can't Handle It? Summary: M/N didn't know what the big deal was. Why Billy and Stu were angry at him for making out with some girl when they were doing the same with Sidney and Tatum.

Will Graham

Male Reader

I Hate You Summary: Perhaps Hannibal Lecter was right. The darkness inside him was meant to be released, so why does it hurt when that acceptance isn't displayed by M/N, the person who he'd come to care for? Monster In The Making Summary: The Lecter siblings were obsessed with Will Graham but for entirely different reasons. While Hannibal wanted to deconstruct the puzzle that was the detective, M/N wanted Will to be his. What Can I Say? I'm A Man and What Can I Say? I'm A Man Pt. 2 Summary: You're an ass man and Will Graham definitely carries a dump truck :) As You Are Summary: Will can't help but notice how graceful and stylish his partner is. Can't help but want to improve his looks.

Joe Goldberg

Male Reader

Hello Summary: A new customer has entered the bookstore and, unsurprisingly, caught the attention of Joe Goldberg. After his disappointment with Beck, can M/N be his one true love? Obsessed Summary: It was supposed to be a one-night stand—fun with a cute guy you found in the club, but this was Joe we're talking about. Once he'd tasted you, he couldn't get enough.

Hannigram

Male Reader

Bite Me, Darling REQUEST: Hannigram fic with male reader who has a biting habit—this includes objects and biting Will/Hannibal. Top Priority, Top Priority Pt. 2 Summary: Will Graham intrigued you, however, you can't leave your duties as Hannibal's bodyguard. How to place a man over the person who gave you a second chance at life and made you feel at ease? Are You Sure It's Just A Childhood Friend? and Are You Sure It's Just A Childhood Friend? Pt. 2 Summary: You were happy to be reunited with a childhood friend. But Hannibal and Will saw it differently—they saw it as it was. A man who wanted to steal you away from them. Too bad you were too trusting and defended this friend till things go awry. On The Tip Of Your Tongue and On The Tip Of Your Tongue Pt. 2 REQUEST: Reader is always really quiet and generally avoids people so everyone thinks he’s shy, but one conversation with him shows that he is NOT shy—he’s just on the verge of murdering someone constantly. My Vampire Summary: You encounter two mortals on the verge of death and, despite your nature, you tend to them. Of Blood and Moonlight REQUEST: Hannigram x Vampire reader. Will and Hannibal falling for a dhampir (half-vampire) with mid-back long, luscious platinum-blonde hair, gorgeous golden eyes and a handsome face.

Gender Neutral Reader

My Morning vs. Your Night REQUEST: Reader who operates on a backwards schedule? Like eating breakfast at 9pm and dinner at 7am. And anytime they’re seen during the daytime, they just look exhausted. You Kill, I Collect REQUEST: hannigram with a reader who’s really into collecting candles, but ONLY the weird ones. Like they definitely have a few pot-roast or bacon candles lying around. Just the cursed candles that you would never expect to see.

[mini-ism]

#— HOLIDAY LIGHTS.

pairings: lighter x afab!gn!reader [MDNI]

words: 3,300

synopsis: he hated the way those cheery holiday lights made him feel so small the night you rejected him. yet, he still answers every time you call. that shred of hope will never die, especially not as it gets cold.

warnings: p in v, biting, kissing/making out, creampie, oral sex/cunnilingus, friends with benefits type relationship (can be read as reader and lighter get together after the fic), lethal amounts of pining, rejection, grinding/dry humping, nipple sucking/licking, unprotected intercourse, afab reader (gender neutral, no pronouns/feminine terms). 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

notes: crossposted to AO3. merry pissmas losers. ily!!

it was a force of habit, always a call away.

ever since his boxing days, he was a call away.

“hello?” his husky voice could be heard on your end. it was getting cold out, the season lonelier when alone.

“lighter!” you spoke happily, almost relieved he’d answered. when didn’t he answer your call? even when he was busy at the time, he managed to return the call, managed to ask you “what’s up?”

in a heartbeat, you could hear his smile through his words and tone, he filled in the blank. “you want me to come over? you know, it’s the holiday season, can’t leave you feeling lonely.”

you laughed, an involuntary, fond, and soft noise. “yeah, could you do that? it’s been a while since i’ve seen you. …maybe you could be my gift?”

he chuckled on the other end, letting a bit of a snort through, “you bet. i’ll be there soon.”

you could only manage to tidy your bedroom before he was knocking at your door, the knocks gentle but persistent. you opened the door for him, standing in his usual attire. he waved hi, making haste to immediately settle in like it was his home too. “you missed me already?”

lighter’s words carried a teasing lilt to them, “well of course i did.” you answered him honestly, perhaps even a bit shyly. he smirked, the expression not entirely smug, carrying a layer of humility.

“well, i missed you too,” he turned to you after hanging his jacket on the back of the nearest chair, outstretching his arms, “come here.”

you obliged, scoffing at his endearment, letting his arms wrap tightly around you. his hug was secure, full of warmth and strength, a level of love underneath the surface of it all. you and him were quite familiar, your bond deep and connection deeper. he had met you when he was still fighting in the ember arena, misery behind his swollen eyes and bruises littering his battered body. yet, you never took him for what he seemed to be — a ruthless man with nothing but his life to put on the line.

hadn’t it been around this time he first kissed you? when he gave you his breathless confession? he tore off his boxing gloves, nose trickling with blood as his diaphragm stuttered with each breath. lighter had taken a particularly ugly punch to the gut, every last bit of oxygen in his lungs getting beat out of him. it still hurt to breathe, and that punch was sure to leave a hideous bruise on his … washboard abs.

as the champagne-golden and multicolored christmas lights illuminated the streets above and around the city, he huffed out an honest admission. a declaration of deep love, a sparkle igniting behind his dark and tired eyes.

you could only tell him that now wasn’t right. that, as much as you loved him back, he needed to get out of here most, that there was still so much interpersonal work to be done for yourselves. his ego was terribly hurt, the beating he took insurmountable to the pain of a slight rejection. but still, you called.

the attraction was palpable, undeniable, tangible. his name was spoken on your lips like a prayer, reverent and begging for his mercy. you begged him like he wholly owned you. the ache in his ego was replaced with a strange swell of pride, the look in your gaze unmistakable as he approached you. you stared at him with those pretty, twinkling eyes, that look beckoning him for his mercy and cruelty, to treat you as his for another night.

lighter would always oblige you. sure, that pain that shattered his fragile ego mended, and yeah, the way you practically worshipped him inflated it further. he was convinced that not even time could rip you away from him, that as he became a different man with new goals and a better set of priorities, you remained in his life. he turned down everyone, a silent part of his heart naively hoping that eventually you’d throw yourself onto him like a damsel in distress. you’d profess your equally passionate love for him, and that you were ready to be his only. he’d always pick up your call.

lighter loosened his grip slightly, bringing you back to reality as a small bit of chill crept in, “it’s always nice to see you.”

you smiled, the affection in his voice oozing with sincerity. you could feel him beginning to shuffle towards your room, holding you tight as you began to backpedal. he released an arm around you to gingerly shut the door behind him, the limb stretching somewhat awkwardly as he smothered you in himself. you couldn’t complain, the man smelled incredible and he was warm as a radiator.

his hands were immediately on you again, moving upwards to cup your face. he couldn’t stop himself from smooshing your cheeks together, stifling a laugh. lighter dove in to peck your lips, mimicking them with a puckered look of his own, the sight was thoroughly amusing.

he couldn’t stop himself after one kiss, the kisses becoming progressively less silly. his hands lessened the puckered tension of your lips and cheeks. he gently caressed your face with his thumbs as his lips deepened the kiss. his lips grazed yours, every second of contact drove him further into a frenzied need. your lips on his always felt so right, so soft and gentle. the way you tasted left him craving something that was so uniquely you, that couldn’t be emulated or sought anywhere else. his tongue was granted entrance, mingling with yours in a familiar way.

lighter softly groaned, the sound coming from deep within his chest. he never got tired of feeling your tongue on his. whatever taste your lips had, your tongue was better, it was stronger. his kiss was heated and passionate, seeking that comfort that you brought his soul, your presence a healing balm. he could bask in it for as long as he lives, until his existence is a fading shred fighting the winds of time. his hands came to your waist, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss to lift your shirt over your head. lighter’s breathing was ragged, eyes carrying the recognizable spark of need behind the darkly tinted lenses.

you stood in front of him, chest bare, your nipples hardening. he could never get tired of those tits, eyes immediately flicking down to look at them. his face was dusted with a soft pink color, peeling off his right glove to get a bare feel. his calloused fingers immediately came up to pinch the nipple softly, rolling it under his thumb and on the side of his index finger. the pressure was enough to make you wince in a delightful pain, drawing your lip between your teeth. his bare hand palmed the swell of your chest, groping as much boob as he could in his large hand. the sensation of your soft skin against his rough palm got him harder than he wanted to admit, you still had that effect on him after years. “…fuuuuck.”

lighter’s curse came out as more of a hiss, a quiet admission of arousal. he quickly pulled off his other glove, letting it carelessly land on your floor next to your shirt. his hands immediately roving back onto your chest, squeezing and kneading as much as he could.

your eyes were lidded, vision growing hazy and careless. you could feel him lift you up, hoisting you high enough to latch his mouth onto one of your tits. his arms were strong and tight around your body, carefully bringing you over to your bed. his mouth was unfocused and lazy, tongue lapping at the bud to stiffen it every time he felt it soften. lighter guided you down onto your sheets, laying himself above you.

lighter’s lips immediately lavished attention onto the other nipple, taking it between his teeth and sucking it with a pop. you could feel his cock hardening in his pants as he laid on you, hips rocking every few seconds. “you have no idea how much i love doing this…” he muttered between breaths.

lighter trailed kisses from your sternum to your clavicle and up your neck. you could feel his breath tickle your ear and his lips drag along your pulse point. his hands travelled down your abdomen, to your lower waist, trailing his tongue down your carotid slowly. lighter savored the whimper you let out for him. “that’s right, baby, let me hear you.”

lighter pressed a sloppy kiss to the junction of your collarbone and neck, tongue licking along the light bite marks he left on your skin to tease you. his fingers pressed into your sides harder, grinding his hips and cock against the flesh of your thigh beneath him.

his fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, pulling them off with your underwear. lighter parted your thighs with a particularly large and muscular thigh of his own. you carded your fingers through his hair with a sigh, giving him a gentle look. lighter returned it with a smile, letting his lips kiss their way down your body. he replaced his thigh with his face, nuzzling the inside of your thigh as he laid prone on your bed. he pressed his erection into the sheets, grunting as the friction provided him with growing arousal disguised as relief. lighter nipped the inside of your thigh playfully, giving the quivering skin a kiss as a mock apology.

as he dove in, tongue first, he held eye contact with you. he allowed you to remove the sunglasses covering his eyes, the sight of you bearable to the rest of the world. his tongue flicked at your clit, sucking and kissing the sensitive slit between your legs. your fingers worked in his hair, his arms snaking around your thighs to press you closer to his mouth. he shut his eyes, rolling his hips against the soft sheets beneath him.

you had always been more than bearable in his heart, in his eyes. you were probably the only person rooting for him in an arena full of people cheering on his downfall. it had all become too much, the sights, the sounds, the smells. the sunglasses became his weird coping mechanism, serving more than their original purpose. he could only handle parting with them when he was with you, you were the only person that didn’t look at him harshly. you didn’t tell him to fight for you, you’d be the only person to clean his wounds and wash all the dreaded blood out of his hair.

that kiss he gave you during his confession was the only gift he could give you during the season. he was still flat broke, struggling to keep it together. he wasn’t living his life, he was watching it through those pretty green eyes of his. you were the only one to cut through the zombie-like haze of his mundane life. he had nothing material to provide you with, though his soul screamed at him to fight more matches, scrape up enough money doing odd jobs. yet, the way you looked at him had him feeling like all you wanted was him. although you kissed him back that night, he still couldn’t shake the looming doubt clouding his judgement. those holiday lights were hurting his eyes.

it had him filled with a strange sense of jealousy, envy. they were bright and admired, even through all the years of wear and harsh weather. people loved those lights, they would go out just to see them. they would seek them out, they were the substance of holiday nostalgia, something to decorate with and gawk at. he felt small and incomparable to the barrage of festive lights and cheer that night. it was stupid, he knew, but it was real.

a sharp tug on his hair pulled him out of his thoughts. you were breathing heavily, body shaking with pleasure as he mindlessly ate you out. his tongue was coated with a thick sheen of your cum, pussy quivering as you trembled. he didn’t need to use his fingers to get you to come this time, you must have really missed him. he gave your cunt another thorough lick, a long stripe to collect as much cum as he could on his tongue. it left you in agonizing pleasure, the sensation causing you to buck your hips and sob.

he loved the way you tasted. your skin, your lips, your tongue, even your pussy. he could eat it for days, he would if you’d let him. “can’t get enough.” he swallowed down the rest of your cum on his taste buds, the tangy taste lingering.

he had neglected his own body, too. he could feel the sticky pre-cum pooling in his boxers, cock twitching. his dick was begging him for attention, to at least grind on something, to let him bury himself inside you without a thought. his eyes were glassy, his stare magnetic and alluring. lighter’s hair was tousled and messy, his green eyes shining with arousal. it had you wishing he didn’t hide those pretty eyes away from the world, remembering that you’re lucky he still has them, even after all those black eyes and that horrible injury he sustained years ago.

he rose, settling himself differently between your thighs. your body was trembling, but your eyes conveyed full trust in him. you watched as he lifted off his own skin-tight undershirt, the scars along his body speckling his skin. the texture was different from his much softer skin, each with its own unique story. had he listened to you, maybe he wouldn’t have half of them. you still diligently kissed each one when you could, caressing his chest lovingly. his scars were never something he was ashamed of, just a reminder of reality, a reminder that the world isn't what it seems. you say they make him look sexy, so that isn’t half bad either.

the dog-tags around his neck jingled as he unbuckled his belt, throwing it aside with the rest of the clothes on the floor. he couldn’t be reminded to care, palming the prominent bulge in his pants instead. his face was red with lust, sweat dripping from his chest and beading around his hairline, soaking into his soft locks. lighter deftly unzipped his fly, reaching down into his boxers with a sultry drag of his fingers. he traced them down his lower abs, lower, lower…

you could see the outline of his hand stroking his cock through the fabric of his boxers, eventually freeing his dick from its confines. his size never failed to take your breath away, lighter still had to break you in each time. years of fucking, yet you could never get fully used to his cock. he stroked it a few times with a heavy sigh, a noise he reserved for his time with you. “nobody one could get me hard like you,” he mused, “i don’t think i can get hard thinking about anyone that isn’t you at this point. you have no idea what you’ve done to me.”

fuck, if that didn’t turn you on… you moaned, squirming and writhing in arousal, just from his honest thoughts. “lighter, take me. i don’t want anyone else’s dick, just yours.” your voice was strained, laden with burning hot need. you could feel the coil in your gut tighten with every one of his grunts. his voice was so sexy and deep, so smooth and soothing, soft when he wanted it to be.

“i thought you’d never ask,” lighter teased, collecting your wetness at the head of his cock, pushing in slightly with just the tip. you let out a whine, the sound throaty. you looked to him, who was already looking down at you with a loving smile. he pulled back out, the tip of his cock barely slid inside you. lighter’s hand came up to stabilize your leg at the hamstrings, the other aiding his cock inside with practiced ease. he winced in deep pleasure as your pussy graciously accepted his length, you were much wetter than usual too.

he couldn’t help but throw his head back after your cunt took the fattest part of his cock, burying himself to the base, his shaft coated in your wetness. “fuck, you want all of this?”

you gasped as he rocked his hips further into yours, the head of his cock hitting your cervix. you grit your teeth, jaw held tight as he pulled out slowly, dragging his hips out, before slamming back in. he took note of the lewd expression you made, jaw loosening as he fucked back into you, each thrust faster than the last, the pause in between shortening. you looked so hot like that, taking his dick just as you should. it’s got him realizing his love for you has grown even more over the years. it felt less like a trauma bond, blossoming into a deep and profound appreciation, an attraction that his brain can’t handle processing without short-circuiting a little bit. lighter’s expression mirrored yours, his face flushed, hair sticking to his face as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth and held it.

he had gradually increased his pace, the sound of skin against skin gradually getting louder. your bed started to rock against the wall, his hands grabbing the undersides of your thighs tightly. he didn’t dare to look away from you, from your eyes. your pussy was already an eyeful, getting all wet and tight like that, but fuck, the faces you made as you got close made him even harder. hard enough to dick you down into your mattress.

lighter hadn’t silenced you at all, matching your moans with fervor. his hips slammed against yours, groaning and huffing louder. his muscles were wound with the same tightness and tension as yours, your pussy getting unbearably tight with every shaky exhale. “come on, that’s it, lemme hear you. let me feel you come on me, i want you to cum on my dick. can you do that? fuck, fuck…”

his brows furrowed in concentration, his rhythmically rocking into you with a brutal force. the bed frame was squeaking and moving underneath you both, masked by the shared sounds of pleasure and sex. the intense pressure in your gut was rearing its head, coming to a climax, little babbles falling from your lips. “lighter, gonna— i’ll, fuck, ohh… fuck, fuck, lighter! lighter!”

your hips frantically pushed against his, beckoning him deeper, harder. with a particularly loud mewl, your back arched off the bed, wailing in pleasure as your climax washed over every tense muscle in your body. lighter didn’t stop, the pace maintained and ruthless as he chased his own orgasm. “yeah? yeah, just like that, you feel too fuckin’ good. think i’m gonna cum too.” a faint jingle could be heard in the heat of passion, the silver colored dog-tags dangling off his neck with each thrust. “take care of this pussy every time you want me, oh, fuck—”

his final words were strained with pleasure, his own body twitching as his balls drew up tight. he rutted his hips a few times in and out, fucking his cum into you with uncharacteristically deep and desperate moans. his hands shook, palms clammy and body quivering with the after effects of sex.

lighter leaned down to give you a tentative kiss, one akin to the first gift he ever gave you. it was slow, explorative, devoted. he leaned into your neck, nibbling on your ear affectionately, “how is that for a gift?”

“…good enough for me to reconsider our relationship.”

[excusemyobsessions]

Inspiration

Sylus x You/Reader

Genre:  One shot, scenario, gender neutral reader (this has violent descriptions but also fluff) Scenario: You come to Sylus with a request; to watch him torture someone for reference, because your artistic preference is horror. Word count: 1890 words

Warnings: gore, descriptions of torture, reader and Sylus are unbothered as it happens, violent use of evol (binding, gagging, choking, breaking bones), use of pet names (sweetie/kitten), teeth-rotting fluff throughout

(Also posted on AO3)

"Are you comfortable, sweetie?"

Sylus' thumb traced languid circles against your collarbone, his hand a comfortable weight upon your shoulder.

You were curled up on his preferred armchair, by his request. The front row seat, he had called it.

You nodded up at him, humming your appreciation.

Standing tall behind the armchair, he smiled down at you, giving your shoulder a tender little squeeze. He looked relaxed, the first few buttons of his tailored shirt hanging open, his jacket tossed over the arm of the chair you were sitting on.

"Hmm, good," he nodded. "Now, tell me what you want."

You tugged your sketchbook a bit higher, using your knees as support for it and tapped your pencil against the blank page. You'd scribbled a single word on the very top and center; inspiration.

You'd come to Sylus looking for just that; inspiration.

You'd found yourself utterly tied, out of ideas. Words wouldn't come easily, the blank pages kept staring at you. You needed visual stimulation, something to light up the fire, to get your creative juices running again. The lack of creativity in your veins was driving you insane, much like a gym addict without their fix.

Your eyes lifted from the sketchbook when you heard a muffled whimper coming from the center of the room. 

The man staring back at you looked positively terrified. His pupils were blown out, taking up most of the blue in his eyes, nails dug into the wooden armrests of the chair he was tied to. Sylus behind you had silenced him with his evol, tendrils of black and red mist wrapped around his head, securing his lips tightly shut. Yet he still stirred, whimpering like a dog.

"That expression on him is pretty good, actually," you responded, tapping the pencil against your lower lip.

Sylus hummed and shifted behind you, lifting a knee to rest his thigh on the headrest of the armchair, in a half sitting position. 

"I'm sure he can make even better expressions for you, sweetie," he said slowly, deliberately low, his voice acquiring this monotone touch to it, reserved only to the lowly scum of this world.

He clearly wasn't talking to you, per se.

The man was visibly shaking, breathing erratic, as if he could cough up a lung at any moment.

“Would you like to hear him scream, sweetie?” Sylus purred dangerously.

“Can you do that?” you chirped.

The tendrils of his evol shifted, wrapped around the man's neck and squeezed, just a little. You could see the squeeze, the way the skin was pushed in, the muscles reacting.

Two tendrils crawled down his shoulders, one on each side, creeped their way down like two snakes, circling the arms all the way down to his wrists. From the wrist, five lines extended and hooked around each finger. They forced the hand open.

“Hope you don’t mind but I’d like to take this slow,” Sylus told you.

He stood up and leaned down, bending his back to set his elbows on the head rest. He rested his chin on his intertwined fingers.

You could see the way the man's thumb started bending backwards awkwardly, how he started stirring instantly.

“Those filthy fingers, I’d like to break them… one… by… one,” Sylus growled through his teeth, in a low tone.

The black and red mist continued shifting, prying open the mouth, keeping it opened, wrapping itself around the man’s tongue. The before whimpers became screams, enhanced by the prying of the mouth.

Crack.

“One,” Sylus counted.

Crack.

“Two.”

As Sylus kept counting by your ear, you started scribbling down furiously, trying to capture what you could see to the best of your abilities. Words, little doodles, whatever came to mind.

From the center of the room came gurgled screams, as the man choked on his saliva and tears. The fingers on his right hand were swollen and bruised and limp, and they fell awkwardly after Sylus’ evol crawled back, clearly detached from their knuckles.

He panted and whimpered and choked miserably.

“Can you squeeze just a little more?” you requested and Sylus smirked down at you.

The black and red mist swirled, tightened around the man's neck and he yelped, and gasped for air.

You giggled.

“He's like a squeaky toy,” you noted, amused.

Sylus’ large hand came down on your head, tenderly ruffled your hair and then smoothed it out.

“P-please… please, s-sir…”

The man's voice was very tiny, up a few octaves, a stark contrast to the deep, smug tone he'd used earlier when he firmly believed he had the upper hand.

The antimatter gun he'd brought along was twisted and shattered on the expensive carpet by his feet. And he was desperate. Talking around the force of Sylus’ evol, pleading, begging, voice raw from the strain.

“I-I swear I can be useful… sir, please!”

Sylus shut him up by squeezing his throat tighter. The man choked, gasping, a thick flow of tears flowing down his cheeks.

“Pathetic,” Sylus hissed, clicking his tongue.

A little snicker escaped you and you reached back to tenderly caress Sylus’ cheek.

Sylus moved his chin off his hands and leaned right into your touch. As he nuzzled into the palm of your hand, there was another crack. The man arched off the chair, his other thumb now detached from its knuckle.

“Six,” Sylus counted.

He pressed his lips to the palm of your hand, traced your love line with tiny little kisses.

Crack.

“Seven.”

You didn’t know where to look. Yes, you wanted to watch the way Sylus bent this man’s fingers until they cracked but your partner himself was so distracting. Especially how he kissed each pad of your palm, and nuzzled right into your fingers, letting them trace over his brow and temple. He rubbed the tip of his nose right between your thumb and index finger and then latched onto the skin with his teeth, making you yelp. There was a mischievous glow in his eyes when they met yours.

“Oops, I lost count,” Sylus purred cheekily, and you giggled.

You both looked back at the center of the room when the man collapsed loudly onto the chair, hauling it back a few inches. He sank down into the seat, sweat and tears trickling down his face. The fingers on his other hand were now broken and bruised.

Sylus stood up again, this time to circle the armchair and sit down on the arm rest. He rested his elbows on his knees, crouching over his thighs.

“Are you satisfied, kitten?” he questioned, watching your features tenderly.

You looked down at your sketchbook, scribbled down a few more things and when you were done, you closed it and slipped the pencil into the binding spiral.

“I am,” you nodded.

Then, you cranked your neck and pursed your lips at your partner. Every single time you did so, he leaned down to kiss you. This time was no exception.

When Sylus smiled and leaned down to kiss you, you leaned up and stole one, two, three sweet little kisses from his lips.

“Thank you,” you told him.

He chuckled lowly, and pressed one last kiss to your forehead.

There was a symphony of whimpers and hiccups in the background as you shared such a tender moment. For a moment, you wondered what was going through that man’s head as he watched his hangmen flirt and kiss on his deathbed. You might as well slow dance over his body next.

That made you pull out your sketchbook again.

“Any last words?” Sylus asked, his knee bouncing once, twice.

By the tone of his voice, he was quickly growing bored of this. Getting impatient even.

The man clearly tried to speak but his words got stuck in his throat as it was squeezed impossibly tight by that restless black and red mist. He choked instead, lips mouthing words desperately.

“It doesn’t really matter,” Sylus murmured.

You watched how those misty tendrils engulfed the man's body, forming a cocoon of eerie darkness around him. Soon, you could only hear the desperate screams, the gasping for air, the cracking of bones, the ripping of muscles and tendons. But none of that mattered.

What mattered was the man beside you, how his nostrils flared when he inhaled deeply through his nose, head tilted backwards, muscles tensed. 

And then, the screaming stopped. 

With his eyes closed, Sylus jolted in a way you'd only seen him do when you were intimate, a long groan rumbling from his throat. And then his muscles relaxed, body slumping just a little.

When he opened his eyes to look at you, his right eye glowed an eerie crimson which slowly dimmed until it settled into its mellow tones. And he smiled at you, a satiated little smile.

You wanted to jump on him right there and then.

“Should we go have lunch?” he inquired, one hand reaching out to deliberately tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Dinner,” you corrected.

“Same thing, kitten,” he responded with a low chuckle.

In the center of the room, all that was left was an empty chair.

As you sat across from each other on the table, dinner plates in front of you, you watched Sylus as he enjoyed his wine. Your head was always full of thoughts, full of questions.

“Does it bother you?” you chirped up, setting down your glass after a sip.

“What?” Sylus asked, popping then a bite of steak into his mouth.

You hesitated for a few heartbeats, using your fork to push a baby carrot around on your plate. Trying to think of how to put it into words.

“That I’m like this, that I write such gruesome things and that I come to you for inspiration,” you explained.

Sylus set down his cutlery, and reached for the napkin, dabbing at the corners of his mouth. He watched you with those observant carmine eyes of his, always so analytical. You always felt like he could see right through you, into the depths of your soul.

“Does it bother you what I do?” he asked.

He set down his napkin and waited patiently for your answer. The curve of his shoulders seemed relaxed but there was just this hint of expectation in his eyes. You’d learned to read it, to notice it down the line.

“No, because I know you do what you do for a reason,” you answered.

Sylus’ lips twitched and he reached for your hand, making you put down the fork so he could slip his fingers in between yours.

“It doesn’t bother me what you do or what you ask of me,” he assured you.

He lowered himself over the table, pressing sweet little kisses to the knots of your fingers and when he was done, he stayed right there, with his lips resting over your skin.

“I like the way your mind works. And I love your endless creativity,” he confessed.

The way he looked at you had your heart skipping a beat.

You reached out with your free hand, to caress his cheek. His eyelids fluttered and he leaned into your touch.

“Thank you,” you told him.

He exhaled a smile and turned his head to press a kiss to the palm of your hand.

“Thank you, for being you,” he responded.

[livelaughlovesubs]

~ 08.10 - Fyodor ~

Dom!abilityUser!reader x sub!Fyodor - reader is gender neutral

Warning: wrong use of ability, aphrodisiac, handjob, teasing, marking, biting, little manhandling, mind break, sub space (?), cum eating, finger sucking, dacryphilia, use of pet names like baby - darling, kinda manipulation (on both sides), hints of hierophilia

~ Word count: 5k ~

Nini!rant: did I repeat myself a lot during this fic? I hope not…

Kinktober list 2024

Your vision blurred. The smoke burned your eyes and lungs, and a rough and painful ache spread from your chest to your throat. It didn’t help that your consciousness was fading in and out, or that you felt like blanking out every time you closed your eyes. You coughed, repeatedly, enough for blood to drip down the corners of your lips. Its metallic taste was one of the very things still keeping you sane. Then you dropped to your knees, fingers clawing at the filthy floor, nails filled with dirt as everything around you got rendered to ashes.

The heat made you sweat, and even though you could feel a chilly sensation run down your spine, flickering lights and the crunch of wood burning filled your awareness. With the last bit of strength you had, you looked up, arms reaching out to your mentor. They were the one who raised you, and the one who were shrieking and burning on the ground.

“Ughh- guhh…!!” You tried to talk, to call out to them, yet your voice was hoarse. Only groans of pain alongside incoherent grumbles left your lips as a dark figure approached you. The person kneeled on one knee, using their hand to cover your dry eyes as they whispered, “This is the punishment for their crimes, their sins.” Before long, your vision turned black.

An infinite amount of time passed as you slumbered comfortably. It felt way more comforting than the harsh reality you've been exposed to. When you eventually woke up, you were still alive and breathing, there was also no pain anymore. The smoke subsided, the fire ceased and all the burning buildings disappeared, or were you simply somewhere else? How long has it been since you were knocked out? You sat up from where you were and tried to look around, that’s when you noticed the soft cushion beneath you. Someone brought you here, someone saved you-

“You are awake.” A pretty voice emerged from somewhere. You had a surprised expression on your face, though it almost immediately turned into an alert one the moment you saw whom the voice belonged to. “You- you are..! Urghh!” As soon as you raised your voice a little, you began coughing again, the pain also returned as if it was only playing a prank on you. “I’d advise you to not overuse your voice.” The male said, closing the distance between you two, and taking a seat opposite of you.

There was a large window behind him, where warm rays of sunlight gently illuminated the room. Some of the orange light shone upon his silky black hair, causing it to have a colorful glow. The sky was a mix of red and pink decorated with some elements of orange and yellow, all these shades faded and intertwined, creating a scenery worthy of the title 'perfect'. Based on that alone, it must be dawn right now. In your memory, it was in the middle of the night when that horrific accident happened. It means you’ve been knocked out for at least a day.

Now wasn’t the time to admire nature's beauty, you had more important things at hand, for example, the person in front of you. He has been reticent since he sat down, piercing through your skull with his violet eyes. It felt like he was trying to read your mind, this pressure was suffocating. “Fyodor Dostoyevsky.” You mumbled weakly, each word you uttered itched and hurt. This man was the one who burned your home, he’s the one who put your mentor to sleep. But why?

Many strong emotions filled you from the inside, about to make you explode. Though you couldn’t, now wasn’t the time. “Why… did you let me live?” You asked him, hoping to get to know what your value is in his eyes and the reason behind his actions. Was he planning on using you as a war trophy? “What did master do to you?!” Due to your lack of voice, you were whispering, yet the way you stressed your words showed your intentions, you were in despair, and pure confusion.

Instead of answering anything, he poured you and himself some tea, then gestured for you to drink. “It's a simple black tea with lemon and sugar, to soothe your throat," he explained as he reached for his cup, but you bested him to it. Out of concern and wariness, you took his cup instead of yours, not caring about politeness in the face of death. Fyodor didn't stop you, he pulled his hand back to let you have full access to his cup, then grabbed yours and took a sip.

Despite the absurdity of the situation, you were thankful for the beverage, its effects showed in less than a minute. Afterward, he got up to go over to you, he leaned forward to cup your cheeks, and his gesture was painfully gentle. It tugged at your heart, it stung and you felt tears prickling in the corners of your eyes, the loss of someone dear was still a fresh wound.

For some unknown reason, you couldn’t move, too overwhelmed to act, too speechless to push him away. The burning sensation returned, a small part of you wished you could go down with your instructor. “As for your question, it's because I only punish the sinners.” He showed you a look of pity, full of what seemed to be genuine empathy, brows furrowed as he cooed, “Your mentor, he… he has been torturing the innocent souls of this world, there was no other way.” The way he talked was peculiar, strangely foreign yet elegant.

When the news of your teacher being a cold-hearted murderer echoed through your mind, you felt your world crumbling for a moment. They would never do that- right? After all, if they were that ruthless, they wouldn’t have taken you in. You didn’t know where to look at. What if he was lying? Was your faith in your guardian so poorly that you’d believe false information this quickly? Yet you weren’t able to shake off that ominous feeling, that familiar sense of betrayal and doubt.

"I'm sure it came across as quite the shock, but I ask you to believe me." The male said, pulling out a stack of paper from under the desk, and slamming it onto the tea table. "Feel free to look through it, take as much time as you need. And, my condolences." A hint of bitterness laced his tone. Your heart was wavering now, torn between whether or not you should believe him. The way he acted seemed to be real, though it could also be that he was a fantastic actor. In the end, you decided to reach out to the proof he provided you, holding one of the papers as you scanned over it.

It was a detailed report doting down the various crimes your mentor apparently committed, you even realized some of the events, but in a different setting. "Is... is this for real..? Haha- I can't believe it, and, if that's so, I didn't find out all this time?" Your thoughts hung from your lips and showed on your expression, a part of your world was crumbling down on you.

A sense of guilt and dizzy disgust engulfed you, shaking you from the core, and making you question all the memories made with him and your very existence. Could you still call yourself innocent after aiding such a horrible person with such a nativity? Even though you were still lost in your own little space, he raised your chin up, to stare down at you. Your noses were almost touching with how close he was. And with how the light drew across his features, paired with the romantic nature of the atmosphere, you couldn’t stop an impulsive thought from occurring.

The short-lived idea of him being a saint, a divine sent to expose the truth and bring salvation— he has saved you, twice now. You blinked a few times, wondering how you could think of something like that, it was crazy. Your brain must be struggling to process all this information, which led to you having some insane ideas, that must be the case, surely.

The closeness was making you feel dizzy again, eyes staring right into his dark pupils. He was smiling at you, kindly so, though his eyes had nothing but emptiness behind them. Even someone great like him isn't perfect in the art of acting, the eyes are said to be windows to the soul after all. “Y/n.” Fyodor mumbled his voice tender as it wrapped around your heart like a seductive spell, making you feel grossed out by your body's perception of him.

“Focus on me.” The male reminded you, the corners of his lips going up a little. You resumed staring at him, feeling the mood change involuntarily. It’d be a lie to say he wasn’t pretty, and he appeared even more beautiful when he calmly suggested, “Y/n, why don’t you join the decay of angels. By doing so, you can pay for the sins of the deceased, and he'll eventually be able to rest in peace.” He wasn’t asking you, he was making a deal.

You didn't know why but something about him made you feel drawn to him, it made you want to peruse him. Whatever it was that caused you to feel this way, you didn’t want it, it was annoying how it kept clouding your judgment. The thought of joining the enemy group so soon without mourning for the departed didn’t seem correct.

But you couldn’t decline either.

All you could do was stay in your seat, a drop of sweat dripping down the sides of your face as you subconsciously admired him. This bubbling sensation spread to every fever of your being, and in the end, you nodded meekly. The smile on his face widened, and then he asked you, “Y/n, please tell me how your ability works.” Once again, he didn’t seek your opinion, only stating what you had to do. But he was also aware you were an ability user, which might tied into the reasons why he saved you.

With a little hesitation, you reached your hand out to stroke his hair, his didn’t pull back or flinch, as if he was used to it, and nudged into your warm palm. Without missing a beat, you whispered in the still rough voice, “It’s poisonous gas.” As soon as he heard that, he noticed a sweet smell coming from the direction of your hand and he shuddered. Eyes widened while the sickening grin didn’t leave his face, as if he was proud of your small victory against him.

Before he could open his mouth, you added, “It’s not a life-threatening one, don’t worry.” He didn’t look angry, only amused as he let go of you, lingering for a moment longer than necessary before pulling back, sneering almost confidently, “A sly one, aren’t you?” You gave him a bright smile in return, "and you're confident much."

After his touch departed from you, he could feel his body heating up, a strange rush of need engulfing him, eating away at him from the inside. He blamed it on the poison, and he wasn’t wrong. His mind searched for the kind of poison this might be, trying to match the symptoms before he got interrupted by you, or more specifically your hand which had been placed on his head, without him noticing, he must have been careless. You scratched his scalp as gently as he has been treating you. It didn’t look like you were caressing a person but rather a cat, crawling at his skin.

For some reason, his heartbeat went higher and his blood rushed to his head, a meek whine slipping past his rosy lips, “Hmm...” He was in disbelief at his own voice, baffled by how foreign it was. Hell, he didn't recognize himself, this was like a completely different person. “What did you do-” Fyodor's gaze shot up to you, he sensed something ominous.

Consequentially the hand on his head moved down and clasped over his mouth while your other one wrapped around his waist. Then you pulled him closer, getting up in the process and pressing him into the soft cushions. The warmth of your body heat still lingered on his skin, it felt strangely comforting. A heavy blush crept onto his features as he furrowed his brows, both of his hands now crawling at your wrist, trying to peel you off him.

Though he didn’t need to do that, since you were willing to let go by yourself. Alternatively, you were holding his slim waist with both hands now, fingers sinking into his flesh loving yet roughly. “Uh-hmm..!” This time, he placed his hands over yours, trying to signal you to stop. Whenever you pressed down on his hips, a tingly feeling would course through him and he’d shudder helplessly. Poor boy didn’t take it that well, head hanging forward while he gritted his teeth. His pitch-black hair framed his face, sliding past his shoulders and tickling you by brushing over your skin.

“Let go, y/n..” he voiced out those shaky words, letting his facade crumble. You got even closer, nose now in the crook of his neck as you took a deep breath. Then you whispered into his ears, “Thank you for saving me and telling me the— truth…” The last word became so quiet he was barely able to register it. After that, you stuck the tip of your tongue out to lick his earlobe, at the same time you drew circles on his hips with your thumbs.

“Hnngh.. w-what are you..?!” Fyodor winced again. Because you were basically pressing your upper body against his, he couldn’t help but lock his hands around your neck, holding onto you tightly as he pressed his chin against your shoulder. His eyes were half-lidded as more lewd sounds escaped him. At the same time, this weird emotion coursing through him kept making him feel all buzzy inside. Confusion was a word much too vague to explain the state he was in.

On the other hand, you thought the way he held onto you was cute, it was like a little kitten that didn’t want you to leave. “...So please let me repay you.” You uttered, finishing your sentence from before after a long break, then answered his questions, “You are currently under the effects of an aphrodisiac, I thought it might help me service you better.” That’s why he’s feeling this way, so hot and bothered. It was because of your ability.

“M-make it go away then…!” He groaned, glaring at you. You weren’t expecting him to engage in such unsightly acts now, were you? “I am doing that right now. Don’t worry, you’ll feel so good.” A somewhat sinister smile spread on your lips, and then you bit his ear. “UhmM..! No- what?" Fyodor shuddered, head spinning a little from all these foreign sensations. "Are there other ways?” This is bad, it was so pleasurable that it was maddening. His body has become so sensitive all due to the poison, that he was reacting to your every touch, every light brush of your skin against his.

“Begrudgingly, no. Since there’s no other way, try to enjoy it.” You explained, one hand moving to his collar and unbuttoning his shirt while your eager tongue trailed down from his ear to his neck, leaving behind a wet path. “Haaah… you- ughh!” He eventually gave in, squeezing his eyes shut as his body quivered. Now both hands were working on his clothes, but you did it slowly, teasingly slow. At the same time, you licked over his skin, occasionally sucking on a specific area. It didn’t take long until you found a spot he especially liked.

You knew by how he squirmed around, arms losing strength as they limped and fell back next to his body, a dark reddened spot forming where your lips last touched him. It was too much, this drug was making him go insane, he couldn’t think of anything but giving himself to you. “Please..” he begged unbeknownst to himself, feeling you prying his shirt open. Then your knee pressed against his tightly shut legs, trying to separate them and force your way between.

After you did, you grabbed his waist and adjusted his position a little. He didn’t show any resistance, only whimpering in silence as he let you manhandle him. Tears prickled in the corners of his eyes from raw lust, the need for your touch made him so frustrated that he became impatient. “Hurry up.. take responsibility for the mess you made,” Fyodor demanded while wearing a needy expression, you didn't know he was such a touch-starved man. “If that’s what you want.” You smirked devilishly as you took a bite out of him, or rather, you left your teeth marks on his pale skin.

The marks were deep, sinking down on him, like a form of testimony for this shared intimacy. Many hickeys were placed around the bite marks, decorating his sickly-looking body with colors. “Cute,” you commented on his appearance, then moved your lips past his chest down to his belly button. Fyodor didn’t react to that silly compliment, thinking it must have been a slip of the tongue. He let out a shaky breath when he felt you rubbing your cheek against his smooth and soft skin. That single gasp soon turned into a series of huffed moans due to you teasing his nipples.

You used both hands to skilfully circle around the nuds, sometimes flicking them with the tip of your fingers, or nudging them lovingly. Small gestures like this were enough to make him turn his head to the side, cursing out this annoying poison. The more you played with him, the stronger his reactions became. When you got to rubbing his cute and hardened nipples, his thighs squeezed around your waist, subconsciously trying to hide something very inappropriate. But you noticed anyway. He got hard by having his chest played with, enough for him to leak through his pants.

“Fyodor, I didn’t know your nipples were this sensitive.” You gasped excitedly, acting more dramatic than needed. A small yet noticeable wet patch was on his pants, the sticky fluid seeping through the fabric. “It’s because, hah.. of the aphrodisiac.” The male argued, gazing up at you all hostile. “Mhm, sure sure.” Instead of letting it get to you, you continued what you were doing. Humming to yourself before questioning him, “Well, do you want me to touch you?” His eyes basically lit up at that question, drool on the verge of dripping down the corners of his mouth.

“Mhm…” his tone was meek as if he was deliberately hiding his excitement. Putting his pride aside for now, he nodded almost too eager for his liking, and proceeded to avoid your gaze again. Since you got his approval, you decided to take it a step slower, leaning back to take your time to admire him. To worship him. That’s when you noticed how slim he was. Maybe it was due to his hands that were buried in his sleeves, or his shirt that was slipping down his arms, no matter the reason, he looked so petite right now. He was not intimidating or scary at all, not like the demon he was rumored to be.

You’ve already noticed his rather weakly looking physique, but to think it was this apparent. He didn’t really have any toned muscles, nor did he have any colors on his face. To be honest he seemed fragile, like a porcelain doll. When you put your hands on his hips again, gently holding him up and making him arch his back, the only thought running through your head was how easily you could snap him in two, causing you to be even more gentle with him, way more than before. All to take care of this man who was like a saint sent from above.

“D-don’t tease.” Fyodor groaned, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. His arms were still holding your back, clinging to you. Seeing him so needy and defiled made you impatient as well, and you rubbed his bulge through his clothes. The dark patch grew in size, and some of the liquid stuck to your hand. “I-I said don’t tease.” He repeated his words, this time putting more emphasis on his tone, toes curling while he tried to close his legs, of course to no avail. “I doubt this is only the work of the aphrodisiac.” You commented, then pulled his pants down alongside his underwear, revealing his throbbing cock.

It was twitching around in an angry shade of red, leaking pre with no end in sight. “You look like you enjoy it so much, it's so lewd.” You commented, smiling satisfied. The boy glared at you, he didn’t seem to appreciate your commentary, sneering, "Don't let that imagination of yours run wild. It's all the work of your ability." Then he locked his legs around your waist before scoffing, “Just get on with it.” He held you close to him, so close you could hear his weak but fast heartbeats. It had a weird sense of calmness to it.

Ignoring the fact his voice trembled with every word, he was simply too adorable to take him seriously. “Of course, if you allow me the honor of corrupting you?” You asked sarcastically, and your snarky question was met with a fierce glare from him. “I’m not getting corrupted, I’m thriving out the pest inside my body. And may I remind you just whose fault it is?”

Following closely were the muffled laughs from you, hoping to not embarrass him. “Yes yes~ it’s all my fault, so I’m taking responsibility.” Then you wrapped your hand around his shaft, pumping his dick up and down. “HnggGhh! Ah- ahh.. wait, that’s so s-sudden..?!” He moaned loudly, unable to restrain his voice. Your other hand caressed his body, still placed on his waist and holding him up.

“Was I wrong when I speculated you wanted this to be over quickly?” You pressed your forehead against him, slowing down to rub his sensitive gland. More and more precum collected at the tip, dripping down his member, making lewd squelch sounds whenever you moved your fingers. “Haaah…” he squeezed his eyes shut, clawing at your back to balance out the growingly overwhelming sensations. Moaning into your ear, encouraging you with the sweetest melody known to mankind. “Huh? Yes.. you, you weren’t wrong. So hurry… please.”

Right now, you must be grinning so stupidly, totally captivated by him. You quickened your pace, hands gliding across his skin. It was very easy since he had been dripping so much, and you couldn’t stop yourself from making a comment about it, “You are so wet down there, Fyodor. Are you that excited?” He pinched your back, embarrassed by your words, “Don’t- nggGhh… make my body sound so perverted ♡.” Afterward, he continued to try and bite back his moans, but he failed miserably.

“Ah- hmmm..!! It’s too intense, y/n.” Pretty tears rolled down his cheeks as he mumbled as quietly as possible, his voice all breathy and broken. When you noticed these fresh tears climbing down his face, you leaned close to him and licked them away. His tears were salty, like any other human, and they were still warm when they reached your tongue. He sobbed meekly in response to your questionable course of action, his cries stiffening a little.

Why was he crying? Was it due to the embarrassment he felt, or the troubling feelings bubbling inside him? Or because he was too overwhelmed by his own emotions, by this growing heat that was on the verge of exploding? Nonetheless, he blamed it on the aphrodisiac, to shelter himself from the truth, to deny reality once more.

“It’s alright, it’s normal to feel this way.” You whispered against his smooth skin, only moving your lips minimally. With the hand that used to be on his waist, you wiped the tears from the other cheek, watching the water dry after a while, commenting with an adoring voice, “So beautiful.” He was stunned by how tender you were with him, it made his skin crawl and his heart tighten. It was noticeable by the way his blush seemed to intensify. His dick twitched against your hand, uncontrollably so, desperate for more friction and attention. “A-a bit more— I, hic, a little bit…” Fyodor said, unsure what he meant with little, but he knew he was close.

Your hand was all slippery with his juices, and you made sure that he knew every single detail. “Look at that, my hand’s all sticky and dirty now, thanks to you.” To demonstrate what you meant, you raised your hand and held it in front of him, waiting until he opened his eyes to have a look. “Ah..” he winced a little at the loss of pleasure, then buried himself into the nook of your neck, choking out a muffled sentence, “I-I don’t want to see that.. just- make this heat stop… it h-hurts ♡.”

When he did that, you felt your own heart skip a beat, and you cooed at him, “Aah.. right, yes, my bad. You are just too cute.” He held his breath, and only exhaled when he felt your finger wrap around his weeping cock. You kissed his hair, wrapping one arm around his head and playing with the hair on the other side, stroking and caressing it. “So very cute.”

Fyodor seemed to have a rather hard time registering the fact these compliments were meant for him, and not just for the heat of the moment. He stayed quiet, except for the occasional whine that’d escape him when you drag your hand up and down his twitching dick. Then you raised the speed of your hands again, now trying to bring him over the edge. His nails dug into your flesh when he noticed a knot forming in his stomach, toes curling while he gritted his teeth. Your touch was simply heavenly, there was no better way for him to describe it.

"Arghh, y/n..? D-don't stop, don't you dare- i- nghh!!" The male threatened though he wasn't able to finish his sentence without his moans interrupting him. "Hmm~? Why can't I stop?" You teased him, despite knowing the reason very well. Your hand pumped him fast and steadily, slowly down only to take extra care of his tip. He inhaled sharply, opening his mouth to speak but ending up biting your shoulder with a messy expression. "Mfmmhh..! HnnGh~"

A shiver ran down your spine, you could barely stop yourself from grinning as you asked again, "Is something the matter, Fyodor?" If only he wasn't so messed up right now, he'd be seething with anger. Because right now, no matter what expression he pulled, he looked like a ravished and whithering animal. Wet and dried tears continued spilling from his swollen eyes, his entire upper body was covered in marks like a cherry blossom, and his skin glistened with sweat and a heavy blush.

Now moving down to his lower body, which looked like something straight out of a sinful magazine, he was so wet and sticky that he felt ashamed. To be this aroused from nothing but a simple handjob as well, it was a huge hit to his ego. Fyodor took a few moments to collect himself, and once he did, he mumbled almost inaudibly, "It feels too good.. m' gonna cum.." That was the moment you absolutely lost it, you were so infatuated with him it was worse than hypnotise.

Quickening your pace once more, you chuckled happily, "It's alright baby, cum for me, spurt it alll over my hand ♡♥︎" the sudden rise in intensity and pleasure caught him off guard, so badly that he scratched your back, screaming in ecstasy, "aaHhHGgg! W-wait, s-stop~!! It's- it's too muucHhhh! ♡♡ cumming, cumiiinnnng, pull away, it's dirty~ ♥︎♡" The boy looked like he was going crazy from all this bliss, head thrown back while his pupils turned heart-shaped.

He was mewling, drooling, and shaking from his core, brain way too mushy to think, to see if what he was babbling even made sense. Never would you have thought you could turn such a composed and fine man into this dumb little thing, addicted to the sin of the flesh. You kept moving your hand to help him come down from his high, lips pressed against the shell of his ear, "Shhh, it's alright darling, it's okay. It doesn't hurt, right? So it's okay, defile my hand like how I defiled you."

A few minutes passed in silence. You gave him enough time to get used to the feeling and cope with the reality. In the meantime, your hand departed from him, your fingers were all slick with his body fluid, and a pool of thick semen collected on your palm. While you were wondering what to do with it, his breathing was ragged and heavy, looks like he was still not used to all of this. You reached for some tissues from the table, wanting to clear up this mess if not for him to suddenly grab your wrist, bringing your finger to his lips and sucking on them feverishly.

He lapped up all the fluids clinging to you, all while gazing at you with the same eyes as before. Heart-shaped and pleasure-ridden, addicted, and out of his mind. Despite him still having your fingers in his mouth, he cried out, "he heet if stell here, i-if dihmmd woo.." (the heat is still there, it didn't work) before taking your fingers out, gulping down the fluids, and pleading sweetly, "p-please purge me more...♡♥︎♡" This was unexpected, you didn't expect him to react in this way. But you weren't going to complain, you didn't mind taking it a step further. Just...

How were you going to explain that you never used your ability on him?

Tags: @showtime-ss @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant 2.0:

An aphrodisiac sounds like something really fun, right? Though sadly there is no such thing in real life. According to science, all these foods and pills that claim to raise sexual desire and lust have no real correlation with boosting arousal. Because after all, sexual desire is created due to a series of brain chemistry and sometimes hormones. And that is something so complex it can’t be mimicked with chemicals or food.

Chocolate? The sugar raises euphoria and others, but not lust. Oysters? Apparently it raises testosterone levels, though that’s not arousal neither. Cinnamon and exotic spices? Now that’s a stretch. Sometimes the things suggested by people aren’t even healthy to consume! Like the Spanish fly, which helps with getting an erection. But that’s actually just blisters in the urethra, the tube in the penis…. Cuz the fly comes from blister beetles… yea

Though I’m not saying it can’t work, because sexual desire is created by the brain, right? So if you believe eating a banana helps then you can trick your brain, and it ends up actually helping. Or the rumour with the spices, most of the time it’s about the smell, and if you smell something nice that you like, that calms you, you’re more likely to become turned on then agitated or sad.

I wish aphrodisiacs were real though 😔

[velaris-fic-repository]

What the Tides Bring in (Part 2)

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight

An uncooperative prisoner was not the most shocking thing Azriel encountered in his line of work. He had several favorite ways of handling that problem.

An uncooperative, flirty female prisoner who’d washed up exhausted and bleeding on the shores of Velaris who did not seem to be unsettled by him in the slightest?

That gave him a bit of pause.

You two had been in that dark room for an hour or two, another round of unproductive back and forth having passed between you. He knew you were enjoying this. Your eyes held little sparkles of mischief in them even in the low light of the room.

“Are you finished yet?” He asked you.

“Do you ever lighten up?” you quipped back, stifling a smile.

It was clear you weren’t afraid of him, you hadn’t warmed up to him in any way, but something in you had shifted just slightly. The confrontational attitude he had found you with had not so much dissipated as it had changed tactics. Gone from outright threats and gnashing teeth to teasing. Pushing his buttons to see what reaction you could get. To say he was frustrated was an understatement. None of his usual interrogation strategies were getting him anywhere. Short of hurting you, he was running out of options. He didn’t harm the females he brought in as a principle, and truth be told, he hadn’t had that many to begin with. For most prisoners of any kind, his reputation did most of the work for him.

He leveled an unimpressed look your way and to his dismay, your smile broke free of the hold you had on it.

“Do you ever smile?” you asked, humor evident in your voice, “Or laugh? Or do anything but present that grim mask of death you’ve got going on with your face?”

Azriel’s jaw twitched as he fought once again to keep his expression neutral. A thought occurred to him.

“Do you even know where you are?” he asked as if coming to some kind of understanding.

“You’re a pretty good indication that the answer is somewhere in The Night Court. But other than that, no,” you said in a deadpan nature that made clear your honesty. “Lot of question marks on your side of Prythian’s map.”

“You didn’t seek out this location?”

Now it was your turn to look irritated. “Shipwreck victims usually don’t intend to wreck, let alone choose where they do it, so I’d say no.”

The few shadows of his that had circled around you on the floor looked up at him, mirroring your blank look of sarcasm. ‘Dumbass,’ they seemed to say.

Despite this, a few tidbits of information clicked into place in his mind. “Shipwreck? How many more of you are there?”

He expected another vitriol soaked sarcastic comment. Something like, ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

What he hadn’t expected was for you to freeze. Your breath hitching as your eyes went from looking at him to looking somewhere beside his head, quickly glazing over as you shivered involuntarily. The shadows around you shook, peering at you in what could be considered alarm before slowly slinking back to their master.

Scared, one said in his ear.

Sad, another murmured, carrying with it some of that same emotion.

Guilty, the last one whispered after a moment, a shocked hush in the wispy voice.

A female, washed up alone on the shore without an inkling of where she was, cut up, bleeding and exhausted, storm clouds whirling out at sea. Frozen at the mention of her potential crewmates.

Sad, the shadows repeated, guilty.

Right.

You weren’t a threat to Velaris or its citizenry, at least not yet, not like this. He couldn’t let you go, not yet, not until he was sure, but…

He cleared his throat and watched as you pulled yourself almost painfully out of wherever it was you had disappeared to in your mind.

“I’ll, um, be back with food later.”

“Thanks I guess,” you said, attempting to reuse your sarcastic demeanor from earlier, but Azriel could see it didn’t quite reach your eyes this time.

Some quiet part of him wilted at the realization, but he said nothing, tossing the small keys to your restraints across the room.

You looked at the keys, then up at him, head tilted to the side and brows furrowed. He turned and exited the room. He turned the lock on the door loudly though. He heard your scoff from outside and found himself chuckling at it as he wandered off to find you some food.

He returned with a plate along with a blanket and pillow.

“Oo, sleepover!” you said sarcastically.

“Just eat this,” he said, handing you the plate.

You continued like this for a little while, him bringing you food and once a pair of dry clothes that you changed into after he’d left - but not without a suggestive comment or two from you before - and you continuing to conversationally dance around each other.

It was a little difficult for you to reconcile the stories you’d heard about this major player in the terrifying myth that was The Night Court and this cautious and thoughtful male in front of you. You realizing he was your mate was not making that reconciliation any easier either. You weren’t there yet, far from it for sure, but in these fleeting little moments of care, you could see yourself falling in love with him somewhere down the line.

You understood the need for performance, showing the world something dark and sharp to achieve your ends. Maybe The Night Court wasn’t all choking shadows and star kissed death like you’d been led to believe.

Slowly, you warmed up to each other in bits and pieces, sharing tiny aspects of each other to fill the time you spent eating.

After a while, you’d told him what had brought you into the area. If he’d wanted the information for nefarious purposes, he would have tortured you for it already. The info wasn’t worth that much all things considered.

You were a pirate, yes. You stole things, true. But most pirates didn’t redistribute the things they’d taken to less fortunate Fae. Most pirates didn’t risk their lives so other people could have better ones than they’d had before. Most pirates did it for the profit and thrill of villainy. You did it for adventure’s sake and to help where you could.

The soft smile you’d received from him at the revelation swirled something in your chest, but you still hadn’t felt anything from his side.

Not that that was something you were even concerned about in the first place. Ahem.

“Okay, so maybe I took a few things for myself that I liked, okay? You know the truth now, I’m not a perfect angel. Are you happy now?” you said with a laugh when he questioned the totality of your altruism.

The chuckle that rumbled from him stirred those feelings around inside you again.

Damnit.

As much as he despised the teasing he’d received for the formal request he’d made to Rhys concerning you, he’d been quietly excited about it. It was a reaction he’d had a bit of trouble reconciling, unsure how exactly his perception of you had changed so quickly over the course of a week.

But, he supposed, maybe it wasn’t so odd. He, and many members of his family, had been where you were. Haunted, battered, bruised and in need of a friend. That’s what he’d be to you, if you’d have him, he found himself thinking. A friend to help you through your own patch of darkness into the starlight.

As much as you liked to push and prod at him. That had never gone away.

Considering his family, you’d fit right in.

Huh.

Azriel opened the door around his usual evening time, but instead of holding a plate and walking in, he simply leaned in the doorframe, watching to see what you’d do with a smirk on his face.

“What?”

“Ready to see where you landed?”

A/N: Hey gang! Me again! Having fun out here with this! I hope you all are enjoying reading as much as I am writing! As always, let me know what you think and if you wanna be tagged just give a shout! <3

Taglist: @rcarbo1 @shylahstarzz

[tbatthis]

ranking classic doctor who title sequences by awkwardness of the mugshot

i was so haunted by the ominous floating tom baker head from the latter seasons of his era that i started kinda obsessing over this. i will now evaluate each and every mugshot in these openings, for my own amusement, and to exorcise the demon.

william hartnell did not have a mugshot in his openings because the photograph did not yet exist in britain at the time. as such we will start with patrick troughton

quite an ominous starter, i feel. vaguely disdainful expression, as though judging the viewer for watching a show about a gay little imp. haunting, and makes me uncomfortable to view for too long. a solid start for Awkward Mugshots in the series

next, we have my goat, the babygirl himself, mr 9.5 cuntquake, jon pertwee.

this one goes for an entirely opposite approach from patrick troughton's look of quiet disappointment. jon pertwee stares straight ahead, unflinching, a smile on his face, and yet... there is a discomfort in his features. as though he's standing next to a man who has, unprompted, begun to complain about how greggs has made sausage rolls "woke." doesn't make me, personally, uncomfortable, but you can sense a troubled soul beneath that smile. but we aren't done with jon just yet.....

this one really tickles me. jon pertwee's expression is pretty unremarkable and neutral, although his fit is, of course, a thing of beauty. i'm more just kinda obsessed with it zooming out into this full body jpg of him where, because it was 1974 or whatever, his legs are just this amorphous blog extending from his big stupid cloak. it creates a unique, extremely funny take on Awkward Shot of the Doctor, and for that i have to applaud it.

its tom baker now. you know this guy, maybe.

tom baker's doctor is very much Supposed to have a kind of unnerving quality to him, and his wide eyed completely blank stare here does quite perfectly capture his ominous fey beast aura. very much not a soothing expression to ease you into the program, but one that definitely sets the tone for how much of a weird freak tom baker doctor is. as such, kind of can't call this an awkward shot.

NOW THIS FUCKING ONE HOWEVER

this is the one that got me thinking about this shit. i do not know what they were going for with this one. tom baker's disembodied, floating head, expression both confused and upset, as if he too is being accosted by the woke greggs guy who was hassling pertwee six years ago. then it just flies directly at the camera, making the sheer befuddled emotion on his face all the clearer and all the more troubling. quite possibly the most awkward of them all.

but, i dare say, we have a contender.... peter davidson, who may or may not be popular youtuber hbomberguy.

this one really fucks me up. his eyes, as unflinchingly trained on the viewer as jon pertwee's. but they're so Wide this time. peter davidson is Alert. he is Looking, At You. and he is smiling. he's so happy to see you. then, as with confused tom baker head, he flies straight at the viewer. frankly, this is much more sinister. get away from me, peter. i don't like that. i genuinely don't know if this or tom baker is the worse one.

colin baker introduces an intriguing new tech wherein they use Two Whole Mugshots in one opening

so first, i like how colin baker gets absolutely coated in the rainbow effects. he does dress like a gay clown, so i think it's suitable. second, i think it's extremely funny that colin baker's doctor was infamous for being like, the most abrasive and unpleasant doctor (i can attest to this with how the first fucking thing he says in revelation of the daleks is to just call his companion a fat bitch who eats too much with almost zero prompting) but they give him these two jovial little smiles. like honestly i think colin baker probably has one of the more natural-looking mugshots and it's so funny that the dude whose doctor was famously A Huge Asshole pulled that off. he's smiling :) he's my friend the doctor who bodyshames me :)

last but not least. my other goat. the silliest old man around. mr mansplain manipulate malewife himself. sylvester mccoy.

sorry colin baker this is my winner for Least Awkward. sylvester mccoy could kinda do it all. they picked a shot of him trying to look all stern, only to hit em with a silly little wink and jolly little smile that do not feel ominous, but instead the playful gestures of a mischievous old man who is maybe constantly plotting the horrific death of his enemies. perfect encapsulation of the seventh doctor's character. in a beautiful perfect world we have like five more seasons of sylvester mccoy.

so yeah final rankings from most to least awkward

KING OF AWKWARD: peter davidson

GRAND VIZIER OF AWKWARD: tom baker 2

VAGUELY UNCOMFORTABLE: jon pertwee 1 and patrick troughton

OMINOUS, BUT FITTING: tom baker 1

JUST KINDA FUNNY: jon pertwee 2

PLEASANT AND INVITING: colin baker

MORE PLEASANT AND MORE INVITING DESPITE SINISTER ANTICS: sylvester mccoy

no i dont know why i fucking wrote this

[amourane]

smitten

pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

genre: fluff

w/c: 0.7k

summary: jeonghan is completely smitten for you and he refuses to admit it.

warnings: noneee

a/n: aaa i hope you guys like this <3 i wasn't gonna post two fics in a row but i whipped this one up in about half an hour so i hope you guys enjoy it! not sure if i should make it a mini series, lmk!

Jeonghan found it hard to breathe with you around. He found it hard to focus, to concentrate. He had always been one to keep his cool, to stay calm and collected but ever since he met you all logical thinking had been thrown out of the window. He wasn’t a type of guy that would get nervous and he certainly wasn’t the type of guy that would get distracted. Jeonghan prided himself in being the stoic and very attractive star student at Seoul National University. 

So why did he find himself completely befuddled in front of you?

You who were so beautiful, so pretty, so gorgeous yet so annoying. He had never met another girl who would claw at his bones more than you. Your tinkling laugh and bright shiny eyes. It all made him go positively crazy and he couldn’t do anything to help that. You had this magnetic pull that would drag Jeonghan along despite his protests. 

His friends had all teased him for it. They had seen the way his cheeks would flush whenever you stared at him or the way he would look at you with the most lovesick eyes. Nevertheless, he continued to deny his affections. 

It didn’t matter anyway. You were too dense to notice how everyone seemed to snicker whenever you went up to Jeonghan or the way everyone would peer over their textbooks whenever you asked to partner up with the infamous student. You, who’s smile was so bright, failed to see how everyone could tell how smitten Yoon Jeonghan was for you even if he denied it. 

“Hannie!” Your voice echoed through the hallway and Jeonghan winced at the loud sound. His expression remained neutral as you came bounding up towards him with the most adorable grin on your face. “Guess who just got full marks on her test? Me!”

The test paper you shoved in his face made Jeonghan go cross eyes as he struggled to decipher your scrawled answers and the red pen the professor had marked with. The biggest thing that caught his eyes was the 100 in the top right hand corner. 

“That’s good Y/n.”

“Is that all you have to say?” You pouted as you removed the test paper from his face. “I worked so hard for that Hannie, I pulled all nighters and everything! I didn’t even ask you for any help, isn’t that impressive?”

“Yeah.” Jeonghan felt the cage of butterflies fly open in his stomach and he gulped. “That’s amazing Y/n but you really shouldn’t stay up revising, it actually decreases the chance of taking information in. You can enter sleep deprivation and it has a really high chance of simply going blank in exams and that’s not good at all you know.”

Your smile remained on your face as Jeonghan continued to rattle off the side effects of lack of sleep. You stepped closer towards him, only inches away. Jeonghan’s breath hitched as he stared at your pretty face. His eyes flickered to your lips and then your eyes. The eyes he could stare into forever and not get bored with. 

“Then you help me revise. I could use help from that brain of yours. I actually did go blank in my exam but it wasn’t because of sleep deprivation.”

Jeonghan knew better than to ask what but he couldn’t help the curiosity that was gnawing at his mind like a beast begging to be set free. He stared at you, your bright expression rendering him speechless as he tried to come up with words to say.

“What was it then?” He croaked out, voice trembling at the close proximity. “Why did you get distracted?”

You giggled leaning in closer so that your lips were brushing his ear. “You.”

Jeonghan froze, his whole body stood still like ice and you continued to giggle and he saw the way your smile seemed to grow bigger. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched you step back, the test paper still clutched in your hands. He felt his cheeks burst into flames as his jaw hung open in shock at your words. 

“See you later Hannie! I’ll pop over so we can exchange notes.” 

You waved him goodbye before skipping away as if you hadn’t just caused the poor guy to melt in his shoes. Jeonghan gripped his textbooks tightly and he tried to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth. The beating of his heart could be heard in his ears and he tried desperately to calm himself down.

You were the only one capable of making Yoon Jeonghan grow completely flustered and he hated it.

[k1ng-ej]

I’m back 🧍🏻‍♀️ I’m sorry for spamming reqs 😔 but could I pretty please request Bo, Michael and Thomas with a fem or gender neutral s/o that has a really bad nightmare and wakes up to the slasher not in bed (yk… doing slasher tingz) so they freak out until the slasher comes back?? I hope this makes sense 🧍🏻‍♀️ heavily inspired by me having bad dreams this weekend, please and thank you (feel free to ignore)

Slashers comforting you after a nightmare

Note: thank you for the requests, my most loyal costumer. i kind of stared at a blank doc for a few hours before i finally was able to write this lol, anyway, i hope you enjoy!!

Michael

Your body jolted awake, your eyes wide as you took in the shadows of the ceiling above. Another nightmare had gripped you in a panic in the dead of night, a tormenting pattern that had persisted for the past week. With trembling fingers, you reached out to the space beside you, yearning for the comforting presence of your boyfriend, as you often did in times of distress.

A wave of dread washed over you as you realized he was gone. You shot up in bed, yanking the covers aside as if hoping he would suddenly appear. The last thing you needed was for Michael to be missing. Your mind was clouded by the remnants of deep sleep, leaving you unsettled and disoriented.

You climbed out of bed and descended the stairs, moving through the darkened house with surprising familiarity. Perhaps Michael was in the living room, unable to sleep and watching television, but a quick search revealed he was nowhere to be found. Panic gripped you, and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. Where could he be? You peeked into the kitchen, casting a glance at the oven clock. It read 2:36 AM.

You approached your back door and cautiously opened it, peering out at the woods that framed your home. Straining your eyes, you searched for that hauntingly familiar white mask, which brought you an unexpected sense of comfort. But he was nowhere to be found. With a resigned sigh, you closed the door and settled onto the couch, curling your knees to your chest. Despite your efforts to relax, your heart raced uncontrollably as you fixed your gaze on the back door, anxiously waiting for Michael's return. A troubling thought flickered through your mind: had he abandoned you, or worse, had he finally been caught by the police?

You lost track of time, perhaps succumbing to sleep, when a hand gently shook you awake. Pain throbbed in your neck and back as you slowly lifted your gaze, only to find Michael's white mask, now marked with fresh blood splatters. A wave of relief washed over you. In the air, you detected a faint metallic scent.

"Where were you?" You asked quietly, the memories of your nightmare coming back and causing tears to brim your eyes.

Michael tilted his head, unable to make out your face in the dim light. He pondered why you were sleeping in such an awkward position, particularly in the living room. With a flick of his wrist, he raised his knife, gesturing toward it.

You let out a quiet 'Oh', sniffling before stretching your limbs and standing up. "I was scared and worried… I had a bad dream and when I woke up and you weren't here, I didn't know what to think, I thought maybe you had gotten caught."

You longed to gaze into Michael's eyes at this moment, as glimpses of his face were rare. His eyes held the key to understanding his expressions and emotions, yet all you could see were empty voids.

You heard the knife clatter onto the table beside the couch—Michael had placed it down. Moments later, you felt his other hand rest firmly on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze, a gesture he often used to comfort you. A long sigh escaped your lips. In his presence, a sense of calm washed over you, which felt strange given his past. Despite knowing what he was capable of, you never felt fear around him. You were patient and showed him a kindness that no one else dared to offer. In return, he spared your life, and from that fragile foundation, a romantic connection began to flourish between you two.

Michael's hand glided down your arm, igniting goosebumps along the way, until he found your hand and held it delicately. You noticed something slick on his palm—likely blood—but chose to brush it aside. With a soft squeeze, you embraced his warmth as he began to lead you back upstairs and toward your room.

Bo

Waking in the dead of night from a jarring nightmare left you shaken, your heart racing and beads of sweat trickling down your forehead. As you turned to share your distress with Bo, you realized he was not in bed. A wave of panic washed over you, but you quickly reassured yourself that he was likely just downstairs tending to something.

The stairs groaned under your steps as you strained to see through the darkness. You moved from room to room, desperately looking for Bo, but he was nowhere to be found. A wave of panic began to wash over you. Grabbing a jacket, you stepped through the front door and ventured out into the dimly lit streets of Ambrose, determined to find your beloved.

The biting cold of tonight prompted you to wrap your arms tightly around yourself for warmth. While nightmares were a rarity for you, when they did strike, you would rouse Bo, sharing your fears with him. In response, he would envelop you in a comforting embrace, ensuring you felt secure until you drifted back to sleep. Bo never abandoned you in the dead of night, so his absence triggered a wave of panic. Assuming he was at the gas station, you set off in that direction without hesitation.

To your surprise, the door was securely locked. After knocking and waiting for a few minutes, you finally spotted Bo approaching to unlock it. Confusion was evident on his face as he laid eyes on you.

"Somethin' the matter Doll?" His arm was quick to wrap around your waist and guide you inside. The last thing he expected was for you to wake up in the middle of the night while he was taking care of 'business'.

"Just another nightmare. I woke up and you weren't there." You responded with a slight shake in your voice, turning toward him.

"Oh, darlin'." He looked at you with sympathy before pulling you against him, one arm rubbing circles on your back and the other cradling your head. The warmth of his body and firm embrace was enough to make you relax against him, your mind being put at ease.

Thomas

You had spent the night nestled in Thomas's embrace, but upon waking from a restless dream, you discovered yourself alone in his bed. A frown creased your brow as you turned your gaze to the window, where a soft light filtered through the curtains, hinting that it was still the early hours of the morning.

You cocooned yourself in the blanket and stepped out of the bedroom, making your way downstairs in search of your lover. You entertained the thought that he might have risen early to prepare breakfast, but the kitchen was empty.

You found Luda Mae in the living room, and you decided you'd ask her where Thomas was.

"He should be downstairs, sweetheart," she replied with a warm smile. Luda Mae had a way of making everyone feel cared for; she always ensured you were well-fed and comfortable. She truly felt like a second mother to you.

YYou smiled back before beginning your descent to the basement. Pausing at the top of the stairs, you hesitated, contemplating whether to call out to him or brave the darkened stairs. The basement was rarely a destination for you; whenever you did venture down, you typically kept your eyes tightly shut. The thought of confronting whatever lay below was daunting, and the last thing you wanted was to encounter something utterly terrifying.

You slowly descended the stairs, keeping your gaze at your feet until you reached the bottom step. "Thomas?"

A sudden clatter broke the silence, followed by the sound of shuffling. Thomas’ legs appeared in your line of sight, and his hands gently gripped your upper arms. Summoning your strength, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, determined to avoid looking past him at whatever lay on his table.

You swallowed. "I had a bad dream."

He soothingly rubbed his hands along your arms before guiding you back upstairs. Thomas was uncertain about how to offer comfort; having experienced his share of nightmares, he’d never had anyone to turn to for solace. He hadn’t anticipated your appearance downstairs and felt relieved you hadn’t witnessed what he was doing. With his arm still around you, he led you into his room and gently urged you to lie down on the bed, a silent invitation to rest. You weren't entirely sure what to expect; you figured he might simply give you a hug and leave it at that. A hug would have been enough. Instead, Thomas settled beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to his chest. You felt his soft kiss on the top of your head. Was he encouraging you to drift back to sleep?

You didn't have much time to think about it, Thomas a human heater, which put you to sleep quite easily and making you forget about the dream you had.

[omelettewise]

can you do the housewardens with a m!mc who collects a bunch of stuff? like cool rocks or gadgets (and he gives them to people he cares about a lot or has a big crush on)

A familiar books seems to shine, begging for your attention .. would you like to join in ..?

omggg hii... i totally havent vanished from tumblr.. its been like, a year and nearly a week !! so im back !! this was an interesting request and a bit w self insert(? since i do then to collect rock of gadgets and give them to friends/ family !! anon didnt specified much so im going to do little headcanons & scenarios !

some of them might be longer that others !! because i am under huge stress and writers block !!3kfjger gejrg send help (i wrote this at 3am)

(reader is gender neutral, and implied to be yuu !!) (no proof reading so maybe spelling mistakes !!)

-- Even if you two started with the wrong foot, as you did with almost half of the school...

-- Time went on and after the event's of chapter 2, both of you went into a more friendly territory, and not long after was when he started to notice the way you seem to collect diferent types of rocks, somehow you found a ruby and gave it to him like nothing ?!

-- Now even if he looks at you with a blank expression, the moment he gets to his dorm, carefully looking around his hands go to a drawer and he takes out a box, that kept every single rock and gadget you given to him safe and sound, perfectly clean too!.

" Oh, another one? .. and of amazing quality too, as long as you are not stealing them from anyone nor are you breaking any rules to get these, i am more than willing to take all of them. "

-- He smiled at you, your hands came into contact with his own as you handed him another of the pretty rocks you find, he can't help but think that only someone as gorgeous as you could find this type of good quality gadgets.

-- Oh?, and from where did you found such a good quality brooch, you aren't stealing from other people are you Herbivore? he chuckles as you looked at him annoyed that he would think of you as a thief. both of you know he doesn't mean it, and even if you were actually stealing them he would turn a blind eye

-- He does the same thing Riddle does, he saves them in a box away from any public eye, including Ruggie's. Every morning he checks them and makes sure every one is there, as he goes back to sleep.

-- He enjoys the feeling of your presence, nose twitching at the faint smell of that perfume he left on Ramshackles' door on your birthday, so he knew that a new rock or gadget was gonna be soon layed on his chest.

Leona's ears twitched as your footsteps became louder, one of his eyes opening slowly as he watched you carefully placed a shiny small rock on his chest, when you left his hand went to his chest grabbing carefully the rock with a caring yet tight grip in a case someone wanted to act funny and steal it from him.

-- Azul and you also didn't start with the right foot !!, but since you seem to have a fascination for the beach you guys started to bond quite a lot.

-- It was one of this days that the sea decided to give you quite the beautiful stone to gift to your beloved crush, a beautiful lilac that reminded you of the octopus that stole your heart without knowing.

-- You cleaned it really well, looked at the sea one last time as you decided to run as fast as your legs can let you, nearly bumping into Azul himself, who seemed startled as you placed the beautiful stone on his gloved hands.

Azul ajusted his glasses that slided a bit from his nose because of the jump you cause him since you appeared out of nowhere screaming at him when you saw him from the corner of your eyes. He cleaned some inexistent dust as he looked at you nerveous, his hand your hand. He felt the small rock placed on his palm, as you told him how much i reminded you of him because of the lilac color feeling the need of giving it to him.

-- You must be really naive if you think you can give him anything and not expect anything in return, Jamil is starting to get gray hairs because of you two. Kalim needs to stop throwing so much money, especially with how greedy NRC students can be.

-- The first time you gifted him an cheese shaped erased he felt to happy and also unable of using it because it's a gift from you !!.

-- And at the next day, there was a silver necklace for you, or if you are one of the gold people!, a beautiful gold ring was in quite the expensive box, behind it .. more boxes, with clothes and food.

" Ah, Hello !, did you liked the gift i left at your porch this morning?, i felt like its the least i could do for you. How do you feel about some ride on the carpet in the night?, or you can go and have dinner with us in Scarabia!, im sure Jamil won't mind. "

-- A rainbow diamond ? .. Dear potato from where you got this ?.

-- The Dwarfs' Mines .. !? Potato that so dangerous ! How and when did you go there ?!

-- A rainbow diamond is what you found the first day as a janitor, in that cave after the chandelier accident, you couldn't help yourself from grabbing it besides the magestone that Deuce grabbed. And until now, you have kept that diamond safe.

-- When you met Vil, your first thought was the rainbow diamond no one but him seemed fit for the gem in your eyes, every thing about him reminded you of the diamond, and so when the VDC camp started, late at night when it was just you two, you carefully gave the blond the perfect and beautiful rainbow diamond.

" How.. Potato, do you know how rare and expensive this is..? " Vil looked at you in a disbelief he masked immideatly, his gloved hands carefully traced over the beautiful gem, he hid how flustered he felt when you explained him that out of everyone in NRC, you only saw him fit to have such a rare and expensive gem but you didnt know it was that rare, he cleared his throat as he sent you off to sleep, considering how late it was. As he walked towards his dorm in Ramshackle he made sure to hide it very well as a small pink adorned his cheeks.

-- Since Idia barely comes out of his room, you mostly go find Ortho, giving him rocks and flowers. Some for him and Of course, Idia.

-- As you cleaned around Ramshackle, something fell on your head .. some weird blue heart shaped rock? weirdly specific, as you caressed the rock your thought drifted to the blue-fire haired man, such an awkward man that you couldn't help but find him endearing, and his little brother has always been there for you.

-- You placed the cleaning kit back into that small room, fixing yourself a little bit as you decided to give the rock to your crush face to face, you walked towards the mirrow hall then you stood infront of the mirror that lead to Ignihyde.

-- As you looked around, Ortho who looked beyond happy to see you there, taking your hand he lead you into his and Idia's room.

Idia jumped from his chair as Ortho open the door with a loud bang, as he was about to sigh and scold him, the familiar picture of his crush appeared, he jumped even higher as he tried to escape. He closed his eyes as he felt his hands touch something cold, his slim finger wrapped around your warm hands. His hair started to turn pink the moment you left the dorm, he could feel the smoke leaving his head, feeling like an overheated console. when he open his hands, he nearly fainted at the small heart shaped rock with a flower, putting the rock into his pocket, playing with inbetween his fingers, Idia looked the monitor screen with a blank stare with tainted cheeks.

-- Oh?, trying to court him now or are you not, dear child of man?.

-- When you first gave him a random rock you found outside of Ramshackle, he looked perplexed. Not only you were not afraid of him, but you were also actively trying to court him?. Oh dear, you two just met a few minutes ago, but he wont mind.

-- Infact he love it, and as dragons have their fascination for special types of treasure, of course as Riddle. Malleus has a special box where he saves all of the rocks and gadgets you had given to him.

" Child of man, are you aware of what this means .. ? " Malleus looked at you, many stones in his hands. Different sizes and colors as he looked at you crouched a few miles infront of him, colleting more rocks and gadgets to give him. If Malleus had his dragon tail out, it would be wagging like crazy, dilated pupils as he stared at the back of your head, with pure adoration as he extended his hands for the new pile of rocks that you are placing.

AND ITS NOW OFFICIALLY 6 AM AS I FINISH WRITING THIS !! I CANT TO THIS ANYMORE, im going to vanish for a year again because oh lord !!, i hope you guys enjoyed it (i cant put more tags?!?!?!)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I know that Yuu is gender neutral in the game for many reasons so it makes me wonder if Yuu was a girl in Conan would that change the dialogues and the way the characters interact with her?

Like not a major change to the main story or turning the game into otome but some small ones like in some characters interaction with Leona when stepping on his tail he won't want to beat us (because of the respect woman thing lol) in book one or Deuce being shy in the beginning of their friendship.

Hmm... For the most part, I honestly don't really think so? Cater still calls Yuu cute, Azul is still pretty polite, etc. Rook still waxes poetic and creepily recites your sizes, etc. regardless of gender. At best, maybe some of those traits would be exaggerated a little more or expanded on to suit the scenario?? Like maybe Ace would initially tease fem!Yuu about being at an all-boys school or something, isn't she bothered by it? But I really doubt that anyone would be tripping over themselves to protect or befriend fem!Yuu or anything, especially when most at NRC are primarily concerned with their own interests. Most of the characters aren't noted to treat women particularly differently than other genders. We also don't get to see the NRC students interacting with girls around their age either, so it's hard to discern how they'd be with them. I think even the "Deuce being shy in the beginning of the friendship" headcanon comes from a perspective colored by writings in fandom; Deuce in canon doesn't really seem to demonstrate major issues interacting with girls, at least not that I can recall. At best, he expresses surprise when Grim mistakes Epel for a girl and fails to romance the Ghost Bride (he freezes up and his mind blanks; it’s difficult to say this is how he’d act around most women or if he just acts this way due to the demands of the situation). Deuce does mention in Ace’s Suitor Suit vignettes that he mainly interacts with his mom, as most girls—and guys—would run away from him due to how intimidating he was. He says he gets nervous about hurting girls’ feelings, though this is in reference to faking a proposal and not romance or interactions in general. I think if we eliminated romantic interest altogether--because, to be clear, one girl in a cast of mainly guys is NOT always meant to be romantic or a harem--most of the cast would be their usual selves, if not maybe a little more polite due to how they’ve been socialized to see women as the “fairer” sex. For example, Riddle, Epel, and Jade underestimate Sally, though this isn’t clear if it’s gender-based or because they sympathize with her poor home life. They may also be instances of the guys not really knowing how to deal with girls? For example, Trey fails to help Sally up after she has fallen (which Sebek chastises him for); Trey later admits that he doesn't know many women beyond his mother and sister who is 4 years younger than him. Because of this, he says it may be that he was subconsciously nervous to interact with her.

The exception to this, many would point out, is Leona, who comes from a country in which women are respected. The strange thing is, whenever this point is mentioned, I always see people speaking about it in relation to Leona and Leona only, even though Ruggie and Rook also come from the Sunset Savanna (so technically those latter two would also theoretically be respectful to women). Now, there's a lot of discussion in the fandom about just how far Leona's "feminism" (a term used by fandom, never said in official materials) stretches. The most extreme of takes paint Leona as a misandrist who actively hates on or mistreats men while upholding women as superiors. And that... Well, I don't agree with this interpretation whatsoever. Yes, Leona no doubt respects women and is more likely to listen to them if they ask him to do something (for example, attending a party for a female painting in Cater's School Uniform vignette or taking a picture of himself in his robes for his sister-in-law in his own Ceremonial Robes vignettes). However, he won't just keel over and do whatever is asked of him simply because it is coming from a woman (think back to Ghost Marriage; he was still pretty pissed off when Eliza slapped him), and nor is he shown to disparage his own gender.

Rather than putting women on a pedestal, I think it would be more accurate to say that Leona doesn't underestimate women or think lesser of them because of their gender. (If you're interested my detailed breakdown of "feminist" Leona, check out this analysis.) For example, while his classmates worry for Sally's wellbeing in Lost in the Book with Nightmare Before Christmas, Leona lauds Sally's cunning and ability to save herself. We also get a pretty good look of this in the Episode of Savanaclaw manga, which features a female Yuu. (And before anyone says, "Yuuka could be hiding the fact she's a girl!", take a look at these panels. She is clearly not making an effort to hide her chest and given her nonchalant personality + ability to physically defend herself, Yuuka has no in-universe reason to be hiding her gender. The other students probably don’t bring up that she’s a girl because she’s already been around at NRC for roughly a month at this point and have likely acclimated to her presence. Besides, people don’t normally bring up “well, that’s a girl” out of the blue in everyday conversations.)

Riddle seems to treat Yuuka the same as the gender-neutral Yuu in the game; he still adjusts her tie for her without any flourishes, flinching, etc.

If you read the Episode of Savanaclaw altogether, pretty much all of the characters treat Yuuka like another fellow student and not "oh, this is a woman and a woman has to be treated differently".

Leona stops Savanaclaw mobs from beating up Yuuka and co., but this isn't significant because he does the same for gender-neutral Yuu in the game. It's not "I stopped the guys from hurting a woman" behavior. And get this: Leona still challenges Yuuka and co. to a magift/spelldrive game and he STILL kicks their asses and expects them to get up for more. He doesn't give even Yuuka special treatment or leniency because she is a woman. He wants her to play him again, the same as the other students (who are all guys). It is Jack who has to intervene and stop his dorm leader from bullying Yuuka and co.—but again, this isn’t a change from the game, as Jack always steps in anyway.

Yuuka recognizes Leona as "the garden caretaker" from back when she accidentally stepped on his tail. Unfortunately, we don't get to see if Leona attempted to attack her from this instance. It could be that the manga excluded it because he didn't try or it could be that he did (if the magift/spelldrive demands were of any indication) and the manga just didn't have time to show it in full. Buuut we should also note that Leona makes exceptions to his own... "moral code" when it is convenient for him. For example, he tells his students to not pick on outsiders but then still wails on us through sport. When Yuu steps on his tail in the garden, he says, "Well, can't say it'd be much fun to hurt someone so helpless," but then adds, "Still gonna do it, though."

My point is, this is the closest we'll get to "how would the boys treat a fem!Yuu", and that's what I'll leave you with.

[diamonddaze01]

nice try, love

pairing: boo seungkwan x reader | wc: 5.6K genre: college au, fluff, humor, suggestive warnings: language a/n: did i write this at work? the world may never know. happy birthday, boo seungkwan, light of my life, king of all good things // big thanks to @gotta-winwin for beta-ing for me serena i adore u

summary: Okay FINE, maybe planning a surprise birthday party isn’t your strong suit, but at least it’s the thought that counts… right?

You're pretty sure Vernon has never planned a surprise party in his entire life.

He's sprawled out on the couch in your shared college apartment, one leg dangling off the side as if gravity has just given up on him. The faint glow of his phone illuminates his face, his thumb lazily scrolling while the soft hum of the fridge fills the otherwise quiet room. You're seated on the floor by the coffee table, absently flipping through your notes for a class you’re definitely not studying for.

“What are you doing for Seungkwan’s birthday?” Vernon asks suddenly, his voice breaking the calm monotony. He doesn’t even look up, just tosses the question out like it’s a passing thought.

You freeze, the corner of your textbook pinched between your fingers. “Uh…” Your mind blanks. “I don’t know. Haven’t really thought about it yet.”

Vernon finally turns his head, his sleepy eyes peering at you like he’s just stumbled upon the most obvious solution to life’s greatest mystery. “You should throw him a surprise party.”

“A surprise party?” you repeat, tilting your head.

He nods. “Yeah. Cake, decorations, people yelling, ‘Surprise!’ The whole thing. He’d like that, wouldn’t he?”

You mull it over, and almost immediately, the idea sparks something warm in your chest. It’s so him. Seungkwan thrives on celebration—on being surrounded by people he loves, laughing and basking in the moment. But he’s always the one making those moments happen for everyone else.

“He really would,” you murmur, more to yourself than to Vernon. Then, louder, with growing determination: “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do it!”

“Cool,” Vernon says, his tone still maddeningly indifferent.

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re helping.”

He blinks, finally looking up from his phone. “Oh. Yeah. Sure.”

You groan, already regretting enlisting him. “Okay, first question: What kind of cake should we get?”

“Vanilla,” Vernon answers immediately, like he’s just solved world hunger.

You stare at him, unimpressed. “Vanilla. For Seungkwan.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Cake’s cake.”

“Cake is not just cake!” you snap, tossing a pillow at him. He barely flinches, letting it bounce off his chest. “He deserves something amazing, not... vanilla.”

“Alright, chocolate, then,” Vernon offers, leaning his head back against the couch.

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “This is going to be a disaster.”

“It’ll be fine,” he says. “You’re stressing too much. Just... keep it simple.”

“Simple isn’t Seungkwan,” you mutter, already typing notes into your phone. “Streamers, balloons, cake, music... what else?”

Vernon hums noncommittally, but you can’t focus on his lack of enthusiasm because the sound of a key turning in the front door sends your heart into overdrive.

“Hey, I’m home!” Seungkwan calls, his cheerful voice cutting through the relative quiet of the apartment like a bell.

Your head snaps up so fast that your phone nearly catapults out of your hand. Panic flares in your chest as you lock eyes with Vernon, who has the nerve to just sit there, unbothered, like you’re not seconds away from blowing the entire operation.

“Nothing!” Vernon blurts out, his voice loud enough to startle a bird into flight—if there were birds in your apartment, which you almost wish there were, just to distract Seungkwan.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you hiss, your whisper sharp enough to cut glass.

Vernon shrugs, his expression as neutral as ever. “What? It’s fine.”

“It is not fine!” you snap, frantically shoving your phone under a pillow as footsteps draw closer.

Seungkwan rounds the corner, a reusable grocery bag in one hand, his keys jangling in the other. His brows knit together the moment he sees the two of you sitting there like deer caught in headlights.

“What’s going on?” he asks, his tone laced with suspicion.

There’s a beat of silence, long enough for your heart to climb into your throat, before Vernon, bless his completely oblivious soul, decides to take the reins.

“Uh, politics,” he says, delivering the word with all the confidence of a first-grader who just learned it in social studies.

“Politics?” Seungkwan repeats, his face immediately twisting into incredulity. His gaze flicks between you and Vernon like he’s waiting for someone to explain why that makes absolutely no sense. “You two don’t talk about politics.”

“Well,” Vernon says, stretching the word out as if buying himself time, “we do now.”

You slap a hand over your face, half-expecting Seungkwan to see right through the lie. And judging by the way his eyes narrow, he’s definitely suspicious.

“...You okay?” Seungkwan asks, his question directed at you now, his voice softer but no less probing.

“Fine!” you chirp, your voice rising an octave too high. “Totally fine! Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

Seungkwan stares at you, unblinking, like he’s watching an amateur magician botch their first trick. His head tilts slightly, his gaze sharp and calculating. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he starts to piece something together.

Your heart thunders in your chest as you scramble for a distraction, but Seungkwan only clicks his tongue and turns toward the kitchen. “Alright…” he says slowly, his tone dripping with doubt. “I’m gonna start dinner.”

You exhale sharply as he disappears around the corner, but your relief is short-lived.

“I should probably head out,” Vernon mutters, already rising from the couch and grabbing his jacket.

“Don’t you dare leave me!” you whisper-yell, clutching at his arm.

He gives you a pitying look, gently prying your fingers off him. “Good luck with your, uh, thing,” he says vaguely, before booking it toward the door like the apartment’s on fire.

You groan, slumping against the couch as the door clicks shut behind him, leaving you alone with Seungkwan’s lingering suspicion and an overwhelming sense of impending doom.

By the time you’ve retreated to the bathroom to brush your teeth, hoping to quietly end the night, you can already hear Seungkwan’s footsteps padding down the hall. They’re not hurried—he knows exactly where you’re going and, more importantly, that he’s going to follow you.

You grip your toothbrush a little tighter, squeezing toothpaste onto the bristles with the precision of someone who definitely isn’t harboring a secret. The mirror reflects your determined expression, and you silently pep-talk yourself: Act casual. Act normal.

The door creaks open behind you.

“I know you’re hiding something,” he says, his voice low and sing-songy, like he’s just stumbled upon buried treasure.

“Nope,” you reply, your voice muffled by the toothbrush already working overtime in your mouth. “Noffing.”

He steps closer, and suddenly his arms are around your waist, his chin settling on your shoulder. His lips brush against the nape of your neck, soft and warm, and you almost drop your toothbrush.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, his voice dipping into that dangerously teasing tone that makes your knees feel like jelly.

You laugh, the toothpaste threatening to foam out of your mouth. “Ish a shpurrise!”

He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. He’s pouting—full lips pushed out and eyebrows furrowed in a way that’s completely unfair. “I don’t like surprises,” he whines, dragging out the words like a child denied candy before dinner.

“You’ll like this one,” you manage after spitting out the toothpaste, flashing him a grin.

“I don’t trust that.” He narrows his eyes but doesn’t let go, his chin dropping back onto your shoulder as he watches you rinse your mouth. “You’ve been acting weird all night.”

“Me? Weird?” You feign offense, spinning in his hold to face him. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” His voice is skeptical, his hands tightening their hold as if he’s daring you to deny it again.

“Yes,” you say firmly, ducking under his arms and making a break for the bedroom.

“Yah!” He’s right behind you, groaning dramatically as he follows you down the hall. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?” you tease, tossing him a mischievous smile over your shoulder.

“Annoying!” He flings the word at you, though his tone is far too affectionate to take seriously.

By the time you reach the bed, he’s already poking and prodding at you like a nosy kid trying to open a Christmas present early. His fingers find your sides, digging in just enough to make you squirm, and before you can stop him, he tackles you onto the mattress.

“Seungkwan!” you yelp, laughter spilling out as his hands mercilessly tickle your sides.

“Tell me what you’re hiding!” he demands, his voice dramatically over the top. “I won’t stop until you do!”

“Never!” you manage between gasps, kicking your legs in a futile attempt to escape his grip.

“Fine,” he huffs at last, sitting back on his knees as you lie sprawled out, desperately catching your breath. His chest heaves slightly, his hair adorably mussed from the effort. “Don’t tell me. I’ll figure it out myself.”

“You can try,” you retort, your grin returning as you reach up and pinch his side.

He yelps, the sound high-pitched and far more dramatic than necessary, before flopping down beside you with a groan.

“Please,” he scoffs, his voice muffled by the pillow as he turns his head to look at you. “You’re about as hard to read as a picture book.”

You roll your eyes, your fondness for him making your heart ache in the best way. “Good night, Boo Seungkwan,” you say good-naturedly, leaning over to flip off the light before pressing your body against his warmth.

A second ticks by. Then another.

“I’m gonna find out,” he whispers, his voice filled with playful determination.

“SLEEP, Seungkwan,” you reply, burying your face against his chest with an exasperated groan.

If thoughts could kill, Vernon would be buried 10 times over by now.

You glare at him from across the tiny coffee shop table, the faint scent of espresso and baked goods doing little to calm your nerves. Your phone screen lights up with a notification that makes your stomach drop.

bonon: what time are we settin up for seungkwan [Message unsent.]

Your eyes snap up to meet Vernon’s wide-eyed stare. His phone is still in his hand, held like he’s trying to will it into a time machine.

“Did you just—?” you hiss, leaning forward, heart pounding.

“I fixed it!” Vernon whispers, his tone frantic but somehow still too casual for the current crisis.

“You didn’t fix anything!” you whisper-yell, glancing nervously around the café. Though Seungkwan isn’t here yet, his arrival is imminent, and your panic is building by the second.

“I unsent it,” Vernon insists, his expression somehow both sheepish and proud.

“You think that makes it better?” you groan, burying your face in your hands. “He gets notifications, Vernon. He saw it.”

“Maybe he didn’t?” Vernon suggests weakly, though his tone betrays his lack of faith in that hope.

Your phone buzzes again.

kwannie baby: what are we setting up for

“Oh my god,” you mutter, shoving your phone face-down on the table. “You just ruined everything.”

“Did I, though?” Vernon asks, tilting his head as he shrugs nonchalantly.

“Yes!” you snap. “You absolutely did!”

Vernon leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Okay, so... Plan B?”

“Plan B?” you echo incredulously, gesturing wildly. “We don’t have a Plan B!”

“We should probably make one, then,” Vernon replies, utterly unbothered as he picks up his cup of iced coffee and takes a sip.

Before you can throttle him, the bell above the door jingles. Your head swivels toward the sound, and there he is: Seungkwan, freshly showered from his post-class gym session and looking devastatingly good in his hoodie and jeans.

Your heart skips when he spots you, his face lighting up in a way that always makes you weak in the knees. He strides over with purpose, and before you can even say hello, he leans down to press a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, love,” he murmurs, his voice warm and familiar, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. Then his eyes flick to Vernon, narrowing slightly. “What’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” you blurt out. Vernon, to your absolute horror, looks at Seungkwan and says, “Oh, just planning your—”

You kick him hard under the table before he can finish. He chokes on his words, doubling over as he clutches his shin.

“Planning your... downfall,” you finish smoothly, shooting Vernon a pointed look. “It’s, uh, a surprise. For later. Just trust me.”

Seungkwan raises a skeptical eyebrow, clearly not buying it, but to your relief, he doesn’t push.

Seungkwan’s eyes narrow further, darting between the two of you with the precision of someone who’s used to sniffing out secrets. “Uh-huh.”

“Why do you look so suspicious?” you ask, forcing a laugh. “We’re literally just hanging out.”

“Because Vernon looks like he just committed a crime,” Seungkwan points out, sliding into the seat beside you. “And you sound like you’re covering for him.”

You elbow Vernon under the table, and he jolts, his iced coffee nearly tipping over. “Ow!”

“See?” you say, gesturing to Vernon. “He’s clumsy, not criminal.”

“Right,” Seungkwan drawls, though his skepticism is written all over his face.

Your phone buzzes again, and you flinch.

“You’re acting weird,” Seungkwan says, watching you closely. His gaze is soft but knowing, like he’s already halfway to figuring it all out.

Vernon coughs, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Uh, I should head out. Got... uh, stuff. Important stuff.”

“Yeah, okay,” Seungkwan says, not even sparing him a glance as Vernon escapes, leaving you to fend for yourself.

As the door jingles shut, Seungkwan turns his full attention to you, his expression a perfect mix of curiosity and mild exasperation. “So,” he says, leaning closer, “what time are you setting up for whatever you’re not telling me about?”

“It’s nothing!” you protest, though you’re certain your nervous laugh is giving you away.

He hums, unconvinced, but doesn’t push. Instead, he leans back in his chair, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll figure it out myself.”

“Good luck,” you mutter, grabbing your coffee and taking a long sip.

Seungkwan grins, his eyes glinting with determination. “Oh, I don’t need luck. I’ve got you.”

“I have class,” you grumble, pushing your chair back with a little more force than necessary as you stand up. You reach for your bag, not wanting to be around for his inevitable victory lap when he figures it out.

You’ve made it almost all the way to the exit when Seungkwan calls out behind you, loud enough for the whole coffee shop to hear:

“Baby, you’re the worst liar I’ve ever met!”

Your cheeks burn, but you don’t look back. You step out into the crisp air with a huff, trying to ignore the little voice in your head that knows Seungkwan’s right.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. What is he doing here?

You freeze in the middle of the party supply aisle, your hand instinctively reaching for the closest balloon like it’s some kind of lifeline. It’s way too late to duck down behind the shelves now. You’re too obvious, too exposed. The very last thing you needed was for Seungkwan to walk in and find you face-to-face in the party aisle, surrounded by garish streamers and enough confetti to make a hundred surprise parties.

Seungkwan appears at the end of the aisle, holding a basket with a couple of random items in it. His eyes catch yours almost immediately, and you see the shift in his expression from casual curiosity to that all-knowing smirk.

“You’re... here?” he asks, slowly taking in the sight of you standing next to a pile of “Happy Birthday” balloons, clutching one like your life depends on it.

You swallow hard, trying to think of any excuse that could remotely make sense, but your brain is a desert. A blank, empty desert where words go to die.

“Oh, uh…” You clear your throat, your voice coming out higher than usual. “I—well, I’m just... uh…” You gesture vaguely to the colorful chaos around you. “I’m... I’m really into, uh... party supplies? You know, just... really into birthday decorations? For me. My own... birthday.”

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. “Your birthday’s not until, like, three months from now.”

“I... I’m planning ahead!” you blurt out. The words are out before you can stop them, and you immediately want to crawl under a rock. “Yeah, I just... I like being prepared. You know, for... my birthday. So I came to buy—uh, extra decorations. For the future.”

He stares at you, silent for a long, drawn-out second. Then he starts walking toward you, his grin widening with every step.

“You’re buying this much stuff for your birthday... three months ahead of time?”

“Yep,” you say brightly, nodding like a lunatic. “It’s, uh, a big deal. I like to be organized. Very organized.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Seungkwan says, leaning on the shelf next to you, his expression equal parts amused and skeptical.

“No, I—uh...” You falter, feeling your face heat up. “I—look, I just like... I really like this section, okay? Do you not... do you not see how many different kinds of candles there are? And look, there’s a whole section just for cupcake toppers!”

“Cupcake toppers,” Seungkwan repeats slowly, narrowing his eyes at the pile of rainbow-colored decorations.

“Yeah, you know!” You start picking up random things off the shelf to emphasize your desperation. “Like these! These would be great for a... you know... a hypothetical cupcake situation, if I were to ever... bake cupcakes, for my birthday.”

Seungkwan looks like he’s about to say something, then stops, shaking his head. He sighs dramatically, clearly both amused and slightly exasperated. “I’m not buying it, you know.”

Your heart thuds painfully in your chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do,” he says, his tone suddenly much softer. There’s a quiet amusement in his eyes, but it’s laced with that knowing glint—the same one you’ve been trying to avoid all afternoon.

“I’m not doing anything,” you mutter, trying to look innocent.

Seungkwan’s eyes sparkle with mischief as he steps closer, his body practically crowding you against the shelves, trapping you in a bubble of warm, teasing energy. You have nowhere to go. Your pulse quickens, and you feel the heat rise in your cheeks.

“So, tell me, love,” Seungkwan murmurs, lowering his voice just enough for only you to hear. “What exactly are you hiding in this aisle of confetti and latex?”

He’s so close now that his breath ghosts over your skin, sending a shiver up your spine. His smirk is pure trouble.

You can feel your heart thudding in your chest, and you try to steady your breathing. “I’m not hiding anything,” you manage to force out, voice tight and slightly strangled.

Seungkwan tilts his head, his smirk widening. “You’re making it awfully hard to believe that.” His eyes flick to the basket you’ve been clutching as a shield. “What’s in there? More... party supplies for your upcoming birthday?”

“I—” You open your mouth, but no words come out. The lie is falling apart, and you can feel it. You’re seconds away from completely cracking.

Seungkwan watches you, amusement dancing in his gaze. “I’ll give you a chance,” he says, drawing out the words with purpose. “Tell me the truth.”

“I—” You open your mouth, but no words come out. The lie is falling apart, and you can feel it. You’re seconds away from completely cracking.

Instead of pressing further, Seungkwan just shrugs, his smile softening with a quiet, knowing satisfaction. He grabs the basket from your hands with ease, his eyes never leaving yours as he tucks it under his arm.

“Wanna go home and watch the newest episode of Queer Eye?” he asks casually, as if he didn’t just catch you red-handed.

You blink, completely thrown off by his sudden shift in demeanor. “Wait, that’s it? You’re just going to let it go?”

He shrugs again, already walking away with your basket in hand, that smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Eh. I’ll get you in a bit. But now I want to watch Jonathan Van Ness’s hair tutorials. So, we’re going home.”

You stand there for a moment, still trying to process the fact that he just let you off the hook so easily.

“Fine,” you huff, following him, but a grin sneaks onto your face. “But I swear to God, if you make me watch that episode again...”

“Oh, you’ll love it,” Seungkwan says over his shoulder, winking at you. “Let’s get this over with so we can eat snacks and judge everyone’s outfits.”

As Seungkwan checks out with your basket, you pull out your phone and quickly text Vernon:

y/n: fucked up. u need to get the balloons and the decoration

Seconds later, Vernon responds: 

bonon: slay now we’re even

You roll your eyes, quickly putting your phone away before Seungkwan can lean over and see.

The soft hum of the TV fades into the background as Seungkwan casually stretches out on the couch, pulling your feet into his lap and beginning to massage them with a practiced ease. You sigh in contentment, throwing your legs across his lap, grateful for the warmth and relaxation.

For a few moments, there’s nothing but the gentle kneading of his hands and the soothing chatter of the Queer Eye episode playing in front of you. It's easy, comfortable. So comfortable, in fact, that you almost forget that you’re trying to keep a pretty huge secret from Seungkwan.

You glance over at him, watching his concentrated expression as he works his thumbs into your arches.

“Mm,” he murmurs, eyes flicking up to meet yours, “You’re really so busy these days.”

You stiffen for a second before relaxing again, pretending not to hear him. You shift slightly, trying to play it off.

“Busy? No, I’m not busy. Just… work stuff, you know.” You wave a hand dismissively, keeping your voice light and unbothered.

Seungkwan doesn't buy it. His fingers tighten around your ankle for a brief second before he continues massaging, the gesture far too casual for how sharp his eyes are.

“I don’t know,” he says, voice low and casual, almost like he's just making an observation. "You’ve been awfully ‘busy’ lately. You’re hardly ever around anymore. No late-night study sessions. No random make-outs. Kinda weird, huh?"

Your stomach drops a little. Seungkwan’s always been perceptive, and it's impossible to hide anything from him when he starts paying attention.

You clear your throat and try your best to stay nonchalant. “Nothing weird about it. Just… start of the semester, I guess. You know how it is.” You try to shrug, but it only makes it worse—like you’re overcompensating.

Seungkwan doesn’t stop massaging your feet, but his gaze never leaves your face. He tilts his head slightly, as if deep in thought, then slowly, his hands shift. Instead of being gentle, he yanks you by the ankle, pulling your entire body forward with a playful yank that has you flopping onto your back on the couch, flat against the cushions.

Before you can protest, he hovers over you, his grin only widening as he watches you squirm.

"I hope you know you're not fooling me," he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, but there’s an underlying note of seriousness in it. The kind of seriousness that comes when he knows something’s up but is enjoying the game.

His lips are warm against your cheek as he presses lazy kisses all over your face, his breath soft and steady, almost like he’s savoring the little moments of closeness. Your heart stammers in your chest.

You squirm a little, trying to escape his grasp. "I thought you wanted to watch Jonathan Van Ness," you protest weakly, but the words come out a little too breathy.

He doesn’t listen. Instead, he smiles, pressing another kiss against your forehead, then your nose. The warmth of his lips lingers long enough that you almost forget where you were, and by the time he finally slots his mouth against yours, the protests die in your throat, replaced with a sigh of contentment.

"Mm," Seungkwan murmurs, pulling back for a breath before his lips find yours again. "But you're so much more interesting."

His words settle in your chest, and for a moment, you forget about the party, forget about everything else. It’s just Seungkwan, and you, and the quiet between the kisses.

Still, you know the game isn’t over. You can feel it in the way he looks at you—like he knows you're hiding something. But for now, you let him have his victory. Just a little longer.

"No, Vernon, it has to be CENTERED!"

You’re on your knees, positioning the large banner across the living room wall, your hands gripping the edges as you try to align it just right. But no matter how much you adjust, something always feels off—too far left, too far right, too high, too low. You’re hyper-aware of every detail.

Vernon stands next to you, arms crossed and watching you with an amused expression as you mutter to yourself under your breath, too caught up in the task to notice his casual shrug.

"You’re overthinking it," he says, voice unbothered. "It’s fine."

You shoot him a look that says everything. "It’s not fine! This is Seungkwan’s birthday, Vernon, it has to be perfect."

"Okay, okay," he says, waving his hand dismissively. "Perfect. Whatever you say. But—" He glances over at the stack of balloons in the corner, then at the unlit candles on the table. "He’s definitely going to be surprised, alright?"

You’re still unconvinced. You pause, stepping back to assess the banner once more. Something about it feels off. Your anxiety crawls up your spine, and you chew at your lower lip, looking between the decorations and the front door.

"Sure," you say, but the doubt lingers in your voice. "But I still feel like he's going to know."

Vernon raises an eyebrow. "You think he knows? You’ve been dodging him all week. No way."

You huff, glancing toward the window where Seungkwan’s car will likely pull up soon. "You don’t know him like I do. He’s perceptive, and I think he’s catching on. He’s been way too quiet lately. And he's definitely noticed how much more ‘busy’ I’ve been."

Vernon smirks. "Ah. So that’s what this is about. You’re worried he’s figured it out and you don’t want to ruin the surprise."

"Exactly." You pause and shoot a quick glance at the door, just to make sure you're not imagining things. "What if he walks in and just... knows?"

Before Vernon can respond, a knock echoes from the door. You freeze for a second, panic seizing your chest. Vernon, unbothered, starts to whistle, completely unaware of your spiraling thoughts.

"He's here," you whisper, looking at the clock nervously. "He's early!"

"No problem," Vernon says, effortlessly grabbing a handful of balloons and making his way to the door. "We’ve got it covered."

You follow him, heart racing as you hold your breath, hoping the setup looks flawless before Seungkwan walks in. You quickly scramble to tie off the last balloon as Vernon opens the door, allowing Seungkwan to step inside.

Seungkwan looks completely caught off guard when he enters, his eyes immediately widening at the sight of the full party setup. Balloons are hanging from the ceiling, candles flicker, and a crowd of people stand in the kitchen.

Your heart skips a beat, but he doesn't say anything for a moment. Instead, Seungkwan just blinks at the scene, his jaw slightly dropped. He slowly raises his hand to his chest in mock surprise.

"Wow," he gasps dramatically. "What... is all this?"

You roll your eyes, but he presses on, voice rising in exaggerated shock. "No way... This is for me?!" His face twists into an over-the-top expression of surprise. "I’m so touched!"

You laugh, feeling a little bit of relief wash over you. But as you glance at Vernon, he’s smiling smugly, clearly pleased that Seungkwan’s playing along.

"No, seriously," Seungkwan continues, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I had no idea. You really got me. I’m blown away."

You can’t help it. You burst into laughter, your hand covering your mouth as you try to suppress it. "Okay, stop," you say through giggles. "You’re so obvious."

But Seungkwan just grins, his expression too satisfied to hide. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was completely surprised." He winks at you before stepping further into the living room, his dramatic act now dissolving into a delighted smile.

"You’re impossible," you mutter, still laughing.

Vernon snickers from the corner. "Told you. He’s definitely surprised."

You shake your head, but your heart swells with fondness. Despite all your worries, it feels good to see Seungkwan so happy, so genuinely caught up in the moment. You finally give in, nodding at Vernon.

"Yeah, alright. I’ll give you that."

After the toast, when the last clink of glasses fades and the room is filled with chatter and laughter, Seungkwan leans toward you, his usual mischievous grin never quite leaving his face. He beckons you with a subtle tilt of his head, eyes glinting as he steps toward you, his fingers brushing against yours as he pulls you away from the crowd.

He doesn’t say a word as he guides you toward the hallway and into your shared bedroom. The door clicks softly behind you, and as soon as you’re inside, he closes the distance between you with a playful, teasing grin.

"So," he begins, his voice low but laced with humor, "how long are we going to pretend I didn't know?"

You blink at him, surprised. Your stomach drops slightly, the weight of the confession catching you off guard. You open your mouth, but the words get tangled in your throat. Before you can come up with an excuse, Seungkwan raises a hand, stopping you.

"I know," he says, the words laced with affection but also a certain smugness. "I knew pretty early on."

Your eyes widen. You can’t hide the guilt in your expression, but Seungkwan just chuckles, his voice rich with amusement.

"How did you figure it out?" you ask, feigning innocence as you lean back against the doorframe, trying to appear nonchalant.

Seungkwan crosses his arms, leaning back as he starts recounting the clues. "Well, let’s start with the unsent text, hmm?" He raises an eyebrow. "I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Vernon isn’t exactly great at keeping his phone locked down. It was right there on his screen, loud and clear—Seungkwan's birthday surprise."

You groan, covering your face with your hands. "He really didn’t."

"Oh, he did," Seungkwan says, leaning in closer now, his grin widening as he watches you squirm. "And then there was that whole... party aisle incident? Really? You thought I wouldn’t figure it out when I walked in and saw you clutching a balloon like it was the holy grail?"

You wince, looking away. "Okay, so maybe I wasn't subtle. But you didn't have to call me out like that."

Seungkwan laughs softly, a fondness in his gaze that takes you by surprise. "Look, I wasn’t going to say anything. You and Vernon were having way too much fun with it, and honestly? It was sweet. It made me feel special." He steps closer to you, his expression softening. "You two planning this disaster was honestly the best part of my birthday."

You blink up at him, feeling warmth spread through your chest. "You’re not mad?"

He shakes his head, reaching out to take your hand, gently tugging you closer. "Mad? Nah. I mean, I’ve got to admit, it was a little obvious. But the fact that you both went through all this effort? It made me feel like I was worth it." His voice softens, sincerity threading through every word. "Thank you. For doing all of this for me."

The words settle between you, heavier than you expect, and you can’t help but smile. Seungkwan’s teasing grin has melted into something more genuine, and as you step forward, he pulls you into a hug. His arms wrap around you tightly, and for a brief moment, you just stand there, feeling his warmth surround you.

But then, true to form, Seungkwan tilts his head back and gives you a playful push. "Alright, enough with the mushy stuff. I’m still waiting for my gift." His grin is back in full force, but this time, there’s something more than mischief in his eyes.

You laugh, trying to backpedal, but before you can say anything else, Seungkwan’s hands are at the back of your neck, pulling you into a slow, languid kiss. His lips press against yours with a warmth that contrasts with the teasing nature of his words. The kiss is deep and slow, each movement a silent reminder of how much he truly cares. You respond instinctively, leaning into him as his hands slide down to rest on your waist.

When the kiss finally breaks, Seungkwan pulls away just enough to look at you, his forehead resting gently against yours. "Seriously," he murmurs, his voice low and affectionate, "thank you for making today so special. I really appreciate it."

You smile, brushing your thumb over his cheek. "Of course. You deserve it."

Seungkwan presses another kiss to your forehead, his grin never fading. "Okay, okay. But really, are we cutting the cake soon or what? I swear, if I don’t get cake soon, I might just die from suspense."

[thee-apple-of-my-eye]

The Hashira with a reader that has a sweet tooth !!! Part 1 !!!

Characters: Gender Neutral reader, Rengoku, Muichiro, Mitsuri, Obanai !!!

Summary: Headcanons for how the hashira would be with a s/o that loves sweets!

Warnings: None, this should be pretty fluffy. Please note that I don’t really know how to write but I’m doing my best ( ・∇・)

Mitsuri Kanroji !!!

I had to start with her because COME ON.

She loves you so much.

She would 1000% have eating contests with you!!

Even if you can’t beat her, she still has so much fun just eating treats with you.

If you like dango?

Just let her propose at this point.

You’re her soulmate, there’s nothing else to it !!! Sorry Obanai…

If you CAN beat her in an eating contest?!

💍

Every time she goes out, she brings you with her! You two share lunch and eat together.. it’s a match made in heaven!

All you can eat dessert restaurants are the best date spots for you two.

If you’re a demon slayer, after a successful mission, she would bring you to these places to celebrate!

10/10 perfect significant other if you like sweets <3

Muichiro Tokito !!!

MY BABYYYY

I love him so much

This can be read as platonic or romantic, but I’m writing it as platonic 🤷‍♀️

Anyways, at first he didn’t understand your sweet tooth.

Why do you care so much??? It’s not like the taste lasts.

Honestly, he forget what sugar even tasted like.

But.. he did put in some effort to remember. He wrote the names of your favorite treats down in a notebook, so he didn’t forget.

When he went into the villages to shop for his necessities, he sometimes remembered to get you something.

On the rare occasion that he came back with sugar for you, he would hand it to you with a blank expression.

He would also silently observe your expressions as he watched you eat. This led to you two eating together quite often.

The stars in your eyes both confused and amused him.. eventually he had some sweets himself to see if he had the same reaction.

This led to him also having a sweet tooth, though it was far more subtle than yours.

8/10!!! Would slowly become accustomed to your, in his opinion, weird obsession with candies.

Kyojuro Rengoku !!!

This mf savors every bite and you BETTER do the same.

He would definitely eat with you! He lowkey eats everything, he doesn’t care too much.

If you’d like to share your food he would 100% be on board.

If you’re not shouting about how much you love the food YOU’RE NOT HIS S/O !!!

Anyways—he would love to take you out and get sweets together.

Fancy restaurant dinner dates are a must with him!!!

He’s a proper man, he’s GOING to take you out somewhere nice!

ALSO—if you bake??? Oh he’s eating all of the food you give him.

He would think picnic dates and hand-feeding you would be cute!!!

ALSOOO if you bake for Senjuro?! He falls in love all over again.

Senjuro adores you after that because HE loves sweets!!!

10/10 be food lovers together <3 !!!

Obanai Iguro !!!

We know how this goes guys

It’s just the same way he is with Mitsuri in canon

Anyways let’s say for the sake of writing that you replace Mitsuri in that sense (I’m sorry I love you Mitsuri)

He doesn’t eat a ton, so he would definitely refuse food from you.

However, he keeps you company while you eat!

If you’re a messy eater, he wipes your face with a napkin. (Albeit shyly)

He also doesn’t let you touch Kaburamaru if your hands are messy! He’s not risking his dear companion eating something off your fingers and getting sick.

He, unlike Tokito, doesn’t need a notebook to remind himself of your favorite treats. He remembers without even trying.

He watches you eat so much, he knows most, if not all, of your favorite foods.

I’m not sure if he’s canonically good at cooking, but it would be cute if he was.

He tries to bake your favorites, and depending on how complicated they are, he may or may not succeed.

If he fails, he won’t tell you. He’ll just sulk all day. :(

Anyways, baking with you is his favorite pastime.

9/10 HE DOESN’T EAT WITH YOU !!! But he’s still a solid choice.

And we’re done!!!

I hope you enjoyed this group of headcanons! If you want me to do a part two with the other four Hashira, let me know! If we reach 50 notes I’ll do it <3

ILYSM!!! Ty for reading! Have a lovely day/night, drink water, etc!!!

🍎

Side note - Do you ever look at a word so much that it begins to look wrong 🥲 I thought I misspelled ‘Treat’ at least 6 times while writing this.