#and i can do lots of silly voices for a long time without hurting my throat :]
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mars-ipan · 3 months ago
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y’know what shoutout to those of us trans folks with voices that don’t “pass” that we don’t wanna change. we’re sick as hell actually
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daenysx · 6 months ago
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this is like the summary of my morning- without the boys, sadly. i woke up really bad and writing this helped a lot, i hope you enjoy too! ♡
poly!marauders x fem!reader, mostly fluff - a little hurt/comfort maybe
an almost ruined morning
you wake up angry for no reason this morning.
maybe no reason isn't right; you're stressed because of your final week, mostly thanks to the high pressure you put on yourself and one of your closest friends cancelled your study date for today. you blink your eyes open with slight panic, irritation makes your stomach achy. there's also a headache that starts forming, a nice ribbon on top of your package of stress.
it must be raining out there, you hear the water drops hitting against the window. the boys are nowhere to be seen, they must've woken up earlier than you. you leave the empty bed with glossy eyes, almost tearing up for not waking up early enough to get some school work done. that wasn't what you planned last night.
"there she is." james sees you first. he opens his arms for you. "good morning, pretty girl."
"morning." you mumble, burying your face to his chest. he smells like aftershave and shower gel, slight coffee and a hint of cigarettes which you think he gets from kissing remus. he wraps his arms around you, holding you tight.
"are you okay?" he whispers to your ear. you're sure he gives a look behind you to remus, not understanding what happens.
"i was gonna wake up early to do my readings." you say against his chest.
he strokes your hair, feeling the uneasiness in your voice. "it's still early babe, you can start after breakfast, hmm?"
remus comes next to you, rubbing your back and giving you a kiss on your hair. "i thought you were gonna meet with shelby today for studying."
he came home late last night so he doesn't know you won't be seeing shelby. "she cancelled. said she has something came up." you murmur.
"yeah?" remus raises an eyebrow. "does that mean we get to spend time together?"
you nod into james's chest, discomfort creeps into your hands. shaky hands, pins and needles. you don't know why you're so nervous.
sirius comes into kitchen, hand in his hair to shape his wet curls up. he gives you a huge smile when he sees you. "good morning!" he says brightly. you immediately sense he's in the mood for a happy morning. you wish you could feel the same.
"morning, siri." you say, still leaning to james but your face is turned to the boys.
"what's wrong?" sirius asks. "what's with the pout, angel girl?"
"i don't know." you admit. "i woke up angry and sad, and i wanna study but i can't. i don't know."
you say the last part with a shaky voice and that makes boys frown. you bury yourself back to james's chest, embarrassed and silly, you don't feel like you can deal with this. you're being too extra and you just woke up.
"okay." james says. "it's fine, baby, it's normal. let's go lay on couch a bit, yeah?"
remus gives him an approving look. james leads you into living room, you lay down angrily. he takes the fluffiest blanket to cover your bodies. you can hear sirius drying his hair in the bathroom and remus starts the kettle for tea.
you are more than willing to stay against james, he's big and soft for you. with his muscular arms wrapped around you, you feel safe. hidden from everything, and it's nice. he kisses your forehead, his glasses are on the coffee table. he rubs your back with a huge hand. you breathe shakily, definitely unable to relax.
"sweetheart." he whispers. "we gotta relax a bit, okay?" he puts your head on his chest, right where his heart beats. "can you follow my breathing?"
you try to do as he says. your eyes are closed, your ear is pressed against your lover's heart. it's not so easy to do but you succeed after a long minute. "it's okay." he whispers, kissing your head. "relax, baby."
your head stops pounding after a while, that's good. you hear silent steps into the room, remus comes in with a steaming mug and a full plate. he puts them on the coffee table before coming to your side, his long fingers are gentle on your hair.
"feel any better?" he asks. you nod, looking at him from james's chest. he motions the table with his eyes. "do you want to have some breakfast? i got you your favorite."
"thank you." you say, eyes filled with tears suddenly. remus coos lovingly, he leans in to dry your tears. you can't handle them being so gentle with you, feeling like you ruined their morning. they still take care of you when you're being useless on the couch. "i'm sorry." you say.
"sorry for what?" sirius asks, joining you in the room. "you're too lovely to say sorry for anything, babe, please stop."
you cry for a few minutes, letting it out with gentle encouragements from boys. the stress of everything makes you lightheaded, you don't want to feel like this. you don't want to cry over academics anymore, you want to be a person who can adapt to quick changes when things don't go as planned. your tears wet james's shirt but he doesn't seem to care, his calm eyes following you. you get tired. you feel so tired.
you sit up, done with the crying. you rub your eyes, remus holds your both hands in his one hand as he uses the other one to dry your tears softly. he has a look of understanding on his face, you are grateful for the sentiment.
"can i have some tea?" you ask. sirius hands you the cup quickly, you take a few sips before looking at them. james wants to wipe the look of guilt off your face, he holds your hand.
"i'm sorry." you say. "i don't know what came over me."
"you have nothing to say sorry for." james says. "it's okay if you don't feel well, lovely."
"it's just-" you start. "i can't spend the time i think of doing things by actually doing them and- it stresses me out. like i'm always competing against time."
you take another sip from your tea. saying what upsets you out loud is a nice feeling, knowing they'll never judge you. they actually listen and understand, they will stay with you no matter what.
"you have 10 days until the finals, right?" remus asks.
you nod. "but i have to finish a paper before that."
"but still it means you have time." remus comes, sits on the empty spot on the couch. he cups your cheeks, his heart breaks at the sight of your tired eyes. "i think- we can spend today by resting and helping you get some sleep. you brain can't function properly if you don't take care of yourself, dove."
you nod. "okay."
"okay." he kisses your forehead. "good."
you finish your tea, and take a bite of the breakfast remus prepared for you. you don't feel like eating much but still force yourself to eat some of it. remus takes your empty cup to kitchen and james leaves to open the window in the bedroom now that the rain has stopped. fresh air will be nice.
"don't worry please." you say softly to sirius. he looks upset, nothing like his sparkly mood before. "i'm sorry i made you sad."
he can't resist it, takes you into his arms. you are more than happy to follow him, putting your head on the curve of his shoulder. he keeps you, smiles only a bit. "you have nothing to be sorry for. i just- i hate seeing you cry."
"i know."
"i wanna put a smile on your pretty face." he says, cupping your cheeks. "you're cute with the pout, but i'd prefer a smile."
you smile. a real smile, just what he deserves. you actually show him your teeth, he kisses you. "do you really think i'm cute?" you flirt, trying to get one more kiss from him. his kisses are healing.
"i think you're more than cute." he kisses your nose. "i can prove it."
"are you trying to make her faint, pads?" james asks, coming back to your side.
he might be right because sirius has always had this effect on you. you lose yourself when he kisses you, and it's good. it makes you forget your problems. he makes you feel brave, like you can achieve anything you want. he kisses you once more, your eyes are closed. james admires the sight.
"finally got a smile on her face, do you see that?" sirius says. "don't be jealous, prongs."
"i'm jealous." remus says, sitting on the other side of you. "i want a kiss."
he is teasing more than usual, to cheer you up. you give him a good kiss as he takes you to his lap. james sits on the empty spot you left, playing with sirius's hair. it's definitely how they flirt.
"maybe you should put a smile on my face too, huh?" james says to his boyfriend. "gorgeous."
sirius kisses him, his hand slipping into james's curls. they start talking after, a quiet chat about their games. everything goes back to normal now that you feel better. remus keeps you on his lap, though. you don't think he'll leave you for a while. he likes the reassurance of your wellness, he likes the quiet kisses you press on his neck when you wanna stop thinking. he likes how you play with his fingers.
remus brushes his lips to the side of your head. "better, lovely?"
you nod. it's not a lie, you feel better. sometimes it's good to cry about things, especially when you're treated like this by your boys. you just need some time to settle down, you think. remus's lap is the perfect place to think about things and then forget them, he rubs your back with occasional neck kisses and you fall asleep right there.
(ps; the pics are from pinterest, they don't belong to me)
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 8 months ago
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Can you please do a azrielxreader,where she is from winter court and they are mated and elain is jealous and tries to hurt reader and just azriel being protective with lots of fluff?I am begging you
Part II
Never again
Azriel never imagined finding her. It was never meant to happen in his books. Azriel was convinced that he wasn’t built for love. That he was destined to share his bed with females that came and went. They warned him for a night or two and then rushed back to their lovers or found their mates.
But then you had stormed into his life. You two met on frozen river in the winter court. Azriel had noticed you first. Twirling around the ice like a snowflake. The air seemed to seize at the power you radiated. Never had he seen such a mix of elegance and power. And then your gaze had met his and the world truly had stopped. In the blink of an eye, he knew. Felt it. Deep within him. That it was you. Had always been you.
But Azriel respected your wish to keep it slow. To get to know each other. To not jump head first, to cherish the little blossom of feelings that clicked into place without a word.
So he had dropped most of his priorities in Night court. Had only agreed to do the most necessary of things. Just so he could be making trips back and forth to winter. He was thrilled. For the first time in what felt like forever, Azriel woke with a slight smile on his face. What he failed to notice however was that Elain had grown frustrated with him. Her cunning gaze following Azriel.
And yes, the spymaster had been pinning after her for some time. Azriel had called it helping her adjust. What Elain thought he didn’t know. Never asked. Assuming that she two knew that this would never go anywhere far. But he was wrong. So wrong.
Azriel had brought you for your first-ever proper dinner in the night court. The house of wind had been buzzing from the early hours. Everyone was so happy for him. Happy for you two. But the cold eyes had met you across the room. Sending a shiver down your back, making you instantly hold onto Azriel tighter.
“It’s so good to finally see you”, Rhys had cut in, stepping closer and blocking the view of the girl. “We all had been so excited to meet you, Azriel just turned into a caveman and forgot all his manners”, a light chuckling sounded around at the high lord's words. Azriel let out an annoyed grunt, “You do not need to scare her away with your fussing”. More laughter echoed.
Your eyes darted to your lover. His shoulders weren’t tight there wasn’t a sight of worry. Meaning that you were imagining things. “It’s truly an honor to finally meet you all”, you smiled at the happy face in front of you. “Now would be a part where you say he told you so much about us but it’s Azriel, so…”, Cassian chirped, making you chuckle as Azriel launched forward to pull his brother in a headlock. “Welcome to the family”, Feyre linked your arms through hers, leading you closer to the table.
The night had been nothing but beautiful. Getting to know Azriel’s family was lovely. You leaned back, pressing a kiss to your lover's neck before muttering, “I’ll go to the restroom”, Azriel turned to you, “Want me to go with you?”, he was already pushing back his chair, “No, silly, I’ve got this. Stay with your family. I won’t be long”, you cupped his cheek. “I already miss you”, he sighed, before flashing you one of his killer's smiles.
You had been heading back when you noticed the door to the backside balcony. Your skin instantly itching to feel the cold of the night. There had always been something so special about it. The view of the Velaris only made it more beautiful. You were about to turn back when a hand wrapped around your throat, forcing you forward.
You let out a gasp, grabbing onto the railing for support. “He was mine first”, a voice sounded, one that you hadn’t heard tonight. “I had him, he was in my bed and he was happy”, she hissed, you had turned slightly to see the side of her hair flouting in the wind. The girl with the same cold eyes.
“He’s my mate”, you argued back, trying to push her back, only to feel a sharp end of a blade against your back. “He will be mine soon”, Elain mussed, pulling you closer to the edge, before shoving you forward. You let out a scream, nails digging into the metal. “You were never meant to be here”, she breathed, you could feel your fingers slipping slightly, the black void that looked straight at you made your stomach turn.
“Elain”, a sharp voice cut into her snarling. Her body seized. She must have turned back to see who had come. Then panicked. Shoving you firmly forward as if she was discarding the evidence. You shrieked, legs scraping against the rocks as your body shifted into the free fall. Eyes burning as your lungs emptied with a scream. Azriel. Your mind was full of him. The fear of him having to deal with this. A warm embrace found you next and for a second you were convinced that it was death claiming you, until a familiar scent of your mate filled your soul. Your hands wrap around his shoulder tightly. “I’ve got you”, Azriel muttered, “You’re safe now. No one with harm you”. And you trusted him.
The muffled noise from the balcony found you soon. The screaming. The arguing. “Get Madje”, Azriel cut through it all. “There’s no need”, you muttered under your breath. “Get Madja, she needs to look at YN's leg”, but this time it wasn’t him asking if was a demand, and from the sounds around someone had taken the demand seriously.
“You held me like that once”, that same desperate voice reached you making you flinch. Azriel’s arms only held onto you tighter. “I’m sorry Feyre but she’s going into the dungeons”, was all he had said. A quiet cry followed suit. Before the trashing and filthy remarks filled the air and then it all stopped within seconds. “I’m so sorry”, Azriel breathed, kissing the side of your head. But you didn’t have it in you to even talk about it. The rush of adrenaline that had ripped through you had drained your body fully. So you simply nodded, “Just stay with me”, “Not leaving you for even a second ever again”, he promised, stepping into the warm corridor.
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mystic-writings · 5 months ago
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out like a light | steve harrington
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PAIRING — steve harrington x fem!reader
SUMMARY — you and steve have been living a happy, simple life in hawkins. the return of an old friend flips everything on its head.
WARNINGS — angst, verbal arguments, cheating, steve and reader are married
WORD COUNT — 2,856
NOTES — loosely inspired by 'out like a light 2' by ricky montgomery
masterlist | navigation
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Steve Harrington was all yours. 
It started out as a silly promise, a quiet whisper between lips and sheets in the early days of your relationship. But it was a promise nonetheless, and Steve intended to keep it for as long as you would let him. 
You seemed to have one of those picture perfect relationships; one that everyone envied, even if the path that led you there was anything but. It took time to get to where you were, and a lot of pain. Effort. But it was worth the heartache, the uncertainty. Because you were happy. 
According to the social class guidelines of your high school career, you and Steve even being friends with each other was something nearly unthinkable. But neither of you could care too much about something as stupid as that — your relationship meant too much. You’d been through too much together. 
And, somehow, through the nights spent singing to Queen on the radio and driving along the long abandoned Hawkins roads, you fell in love with Steve Harrington. And he fell in love with you, too. 
Your relationship didn’t go without its trials and tribulations. You weren’t that lucky. 
The first big fight you could remember happened right after your high school graduation. There was no forgetting it; it was the first time you’d ever told him you loved him. 
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“Why are you being so ridiculous, Steve?!” You shouted, standing with a heaving chest in his parent’s living room. You’d been shouting at each other for an hour, now. Maybe longer. Steve’s parents weren’t home, so you didn’t mind being so loud. Then again, they never were. “You’re not even listening to me!” 
“I’m not being ridiculous, here! I’m just—” he huffed, carding his fingers through his hair. “You’re going off to college in two months and I’m staying here, I just don’t think it’ll work out.” 
You felt like your lungs were robbed of air. “Don’t say that.” You pleaded, eyes brimming with sudden tears. “You don’t get to decide that. It’s not fair.” 
“You deserve better.” Steve decided. “A lot better than me.” 
“And what makes you think that, Steve? What, because you didn’t get into any colleges?” Your voice was soaked in emotion, and you didn’t have the energy to try to hide it from him. You didn’t want to. “You can try again next year, you know. With Robin. Save your money and just try again.” 
Steve seemed to deflate at your words, but you weren’t done. 
Taking a hesitant step closer, you began to close the gap between you, words trembling on the tip of your tongue. “I love you, Steve Harrington. Nothing is going to change that. I’m all yours. No one else’s. I don’t want to be, baby.” 
“Don’t,” Steve nearly begged. His heart swelled at your words, almost unbearably so, a terrifying reminder of why he was doing this. “I don’t want to hold you back.” 
“From what?” You asked, voice a mere whisper. “What could you possibly hold me back from?”
Steve sighed, his head dropping. He could barely stand to look at you; at the pain he was causing you. Your red rimmed eyes searched for his, and his resolve almost crumbled. The sinister voice in the back of his head reminded him that this was for the best. The calming one told him to hear you out. 
“From a life away from here, from Hawkins.” Steve said, scrubbing his face with his hands. “I’m just— I’ll always be the reminder of this town. Of the things we’ve been through. And I know how much it all hurt you. I don’t want to do that to you.” 
“If there’s one thing you’re not, it’s that, Steve,” you told him, taking another step forward. “If anything, you’re my reminder that there’s still good in this place. You help me forget.” 
A strangled sob slipped from Steve’s lips, and you rushed forward, wrapping your arms around his neck. Steve’s head fell into the crook of your neck as one of your hands cupped the back of his head, your lips pressing gentle kisses to his hair. 
“I love you,” he whispered, grabbing your sweater by the fistful. 
You sighed, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “I love you, too.” 
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Being high school sweethearts and making it through college was a feat you didn’t think most people could achieve. But you and Steve had been so in love that somehow, someway, you did. The thought that you couldn’t never even crossed your mind. 
All of the friends you made through college all said the same thing — you were made for each other. Soulmates. The perfect couple. 
A perfect picture of love and happiness. 
Eventually, after that first fight, Steve had proved you right. He and Robin attended college together, graduating the year after you did. You never once doubted his ability to do what he wanted in life. 
You built a life for yourselves together. Steve began working for his dad, with a higher title than he could’ve ever gotten without a degree. You put your knowledge to use, working with the freshmen at Hawkins High. Even if Steve had wanted a life for you outside of the town, you didn’t mind staying. You’d go anywhere if it meant you were with Steve. 
He proposed Christmas after his college graduation. You got married two springs later, and moved into a brand-new, red brick house with four bedrooms — enough room to start a family. 
It was the simplest of lives, but you relished every single day of it. If it meant that there were no more monsters crawling out from the depths of hell to try and kill you, you would enjoy every single day. 
But it seemed that Steve didn’t want the life you did anymore. 
You should’ve seen the signs earlier. After being married for half a decade, and together for almost twice that time, you should’ve seen it when Steve first began pulling away from you. 
Nights spent late at the office, leaving you to eat dinner alone. Business trip after business trip, where Steve barely made the effort to call before bed. The declining amount of date nights, both out and in the comfort of your home. Steve’s lack of enthusiasm to hear about your day, or to just spend time with you in general. The way that every conversation began with snipping remarks that eventually turned into meaningless shouting matches. 
It should’ve been no surprise when you found the root of it all. 
Nancy Wheeler moving back to Hawkins was a surprise. Though, she was by no means Nancy Wheeler anymore. She’d been Nancy Byers for just under four years when she and Jonathan came back to their hometown. 
You were eager to catch up with her when she moved back to town. She and Jonathan had been living in Boston ever since they graduated college — her degree coming from Emerson, and his from Quincy, a community college from what you’d heard. With them, they brought a one-year old boy, with eyes like his mother’s and a quiet demeanor like his father. Benji Byers, short for Benjamin. 
The couple seemed content to move back for their son’s sake, to live out the rest of their life in the quiet town, now no longer plagued by the horrors you’d experienced in your teenage years. You were just glad you had someone familiar to talk to again; Robin stayed in Chicago after college, and only really visited for the holidays, wherein she’d crash in your spare bedroom for a month with her girlfriend, Jess. You loved the company.
You spent a lot of spare time with Nancy, Jonathan, and Benji. They’d moved back to town around the time of year where Steve was away more often than he was home, and you couldn’t get enough of Benji. 
“Why don’t you and Steve don’t have kids yet?” Nancy had asked one day as you sat in her living room, a cooing Benji in your lap. You knew she had meant well, but the stutter in your heart and the hesitation before your response told her everything she needed to know. 
“We’re just not ready yet.” You said with a tight lipped smile. “Steve’s just so busy right now, and I think we’re still enjoying ourselves for now.” 
You just hoped your face didn’t show it as you relived the countless arguments over having kids that seemed to happen between you and Steve. Shouts of ‘I’m not ready’, always to be countered with your rebuttals of how much of a lie Steve’s words were. There was nothing you were more ready for than having a child. 
But it seemed Steve had his eye on something else. 
The Byers family moved back to Hawkins, and in less than a year, your marriage was nothing but a pile of rubble and shattered glass. 
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The shuffling of feet and a clatter somewhere in the house roused you from your uncomfortable sleep. 
“Steve?” You mumbled from your place on the couch, voice raspy. 
An open book lay face down on your thigh, darkness drenching the space around you as your eyes adjusted. The last you remembered was flipping the page on your book, the clock reading quarter-past midnight, as you waited for Steve to get home safe. 
The shuffling stopped abruptly, and you stretched out your stiff limbs before closing the book and making your way to the kitchen, where light was spilling from the archway. Bleary-eyed, you glanced at the clock, almost unsurprised to find it reading twenty minutes to four. 
“Where were you?” You asked, finding Steve’s back to yours as he stood at the sink, hands gripping the counter. A bottle of whiskey and a half-full glass sat on the counter next to him. 
“Nowhere,” Steve said, knuckles turning white, head hanging low. “I, uh— I went to the bar with some of the guys, that’s all. Go to bed, I’ll be up in a minute.”
You sighed, shuffling into the room. “Steve,” you whispered. “Come with me. Please.”
Steve’s shoulders tensed beneath his crumpled button down, and it was now that you noticed the state he was in. Most of his outfit had been wrinkled, the sleeves haphazardly rolled halfway up his forearms. His hair was a mess, almost as though the gel he’d put in it that morning was never there in the first place. And the closer you looked, the easier you could see it. 
His hair was wet. 
You had known for a fact that it wasn’t going to rain tonight, mostly because you were planning to cook a barbeque dinner for yourself and Steve. 
The pieces seemed to click into place in an instant, and your blood ran cold. The thought of it made your stomach turn, your heart shattering in your chest, shards ripping and tearing at the skin of your soul. 
“Steve, where were you,” your tone was low, soaked in emotion. 
In an instant, Steve was turning to face you, anger twisting his face. “Jesus, I already told you! I was at the damn bar, Y/n!” 
You stepped back at Steve’s flailing limbs, horrified to find that the front of him looked no better than the back. 
The tie he’d put on that morning was no longer around his neck — in fact, it was missing altogether. The top five buttons on his shirt were undone, exposing the white tank top he wore underneath it. It also exposed the angry red marks that littered his chest and neck, forcing a strangled, quiet gasp from your throat like the last breath of air before you drowned beneath the weight of it all. 
“Who is she?” 
“What?” Steve hissed, following your eyes to his chest. His shoulders sagged, fingers fumbling to button his shirt, as if hiding the evidence of his infidelity would make you forget about it. “Y/n it’s not— don’t—” 
“Who is she?” You said, voice dripping with anger and pain. You could barely see your husband through the wall of tears building in your eyes, but you refused to take your eyes away from him. You would not break. 
Steve gnawed on his lip, heart racing. He knew he couldn’t lie to you, to his wife. 
“Nancy.” He spoke barely above a whisper, the name coming off his tongue like a bullet, aimed at your already shattered heart. 
The staggered breath that came from you made Steve’s chest fill with guilt. When he looked up, he found you staring at him, eyes tearful and cheeks stained with the ones that had already fallen. 
And yet, the response you gave was one he wasn’t expecting. 
“She’s a mother, Steve. How could you?” The more you thought about the entire situation, the more your sadness turned to rage. “She has a child! What did you think was going to happen, hmm?! You’d break up two marriages and ruin that poor boy’s life because— because, what, you got bored of me? That you’d raise someone else’s son because you couldn’t stand to think of having one with me?” 
As soon as the words slipped past your lips, it seemed the brief fire within you went with them. Your stomach turned at the thought, hands carding through your hair. “You… She has a son… Oh, God.” 
“Y/n—” Steve rushed forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. 
You pushed your husband’s arm away from you, taking several steps back. “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me, Steve. I can’t believe you.” 
Turning on your heel, you rushed out of the kitchen and up the stairs, Steve shouting your name as he followed after you. 
“Y/n, come on, let’s just talk about this,” 
You spun around in your bedroom doorway, chest heaving. “You want to talk about this?” You scoffed. “Why don’t we talk about the fact that every time I’ve brought up kids you said you didn’t want any yet! That you weren’t ready! Let’s talk about how I’ve spent the past four months— longer than that, even— trying to find a way to fix our marriage while you screwed your high school ex-girlfriend behind my back! About how you ruined two marriages because you couldn’t stand living a normal life!” 
“That’s not true!” Steve shouted back, following as you moved to grab a suitcase from the closet. “You know that isn’t true, Y/n!” 
“Yeah, right, it’s not true.” You admitted, stopping between where the suitcase sat open, empty on the bed, and where the dresser sat. “You wanted that life. The white, picket fence, Church on Sundays life. You just didn’t want it with me.” 
Steve stood in your bedroom — the room you shared, as husband and wife — dumbfounded and heartbroken at the sight of you. He had been the one to cause this hurt, and for what? To relive his teen years? To go back to the time that seemed to be the highlight of Steve’s life? 
His mind started back up again when he noticed the clothes you were packing into the suitcase. They were his. 
“What— Honey, what are you doing?” 
“Don’t call me that.” You snapped, shoving everything he owned into one of his suitcases. “And if you really want to know, I’m packing. Because if you really love Nancy that much, you can go sleep on her couch. I’m not sharing my bed or this house with a cheating asshole.” 
Steve’s chest deflated, struggling to catch another breath. “What?”
“You heard me. You made the choice to sleep with another woman. A married woman. Now deal with the consequences.” The zipping of the suitcase on the bed punctuated your words, and Steve watched, practically glued to the floor as you hauled it out of the room and into the hallway. 
It wasn’t until it thumped heavily down the stairs that Steve jumped, legs finally kicking back into gear. 
Your footsteps followed the tumbling suitcase. Steve watched from the top of the steps as you grabbed it, and he followed you as you moved to the front door, wrenching it open. 
“Y/n, Y/n, wait—” 
Steve was unable to stop you as you tossed it out onto the paved walkway, the suitcase skidding along the concrete as you turned to look back at him. 
“Get the hell out of my house.” 
Upon catching the look in your eye, the fury mixed with unimaginable despair, Steve knew there was nothing to be done to salvage your relationship. As he passed you by, Steve stopped at the threshold and whispered, “I’m sorry,” 
You didn’t acknowledge him as he walked out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him. 
And with the click of the lock latching, and the metal door cooling your skin as you pressed your forehead against it, you let the dam break. Sobs wracked your body, shaking your bones as you slid to the floor, curling up against the front door. 
Steve Harrington had once promised that he was all yours. But promises get broken, and people, more often than not, turn out to be liars.
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forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads
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dyaz-stories · 11 months ago
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you took the words right out of my mouth || Kim Yeong-Hu x Reader
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word count: 1k
warnings & tags: mostly sweet and fluffy, implied sex but nothing explicit, just harmless flirtation
A/N: For @neohumanmonster's Born in Blood prompt! I don't know if I'll post the other prompts right away because I don't want to burn myself out, so I hope you'll enjoy that one in the meantime!
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“You do realize that there are two doctors in here, right?” you ask as you enter the room, not bothering to greet the man sitting on the examination table.
Sergeant Kim Young Hu’s eyes follow you as you walk to the sink to wash your hands. Around his bicep, a makeshift bandage seeped with red. By the looks of it, it isn’t the worst state you’ve seen him in.
“I’m not letting that lunatic touch me,” he answers, his voice calm, as it usually is, and you roll your eyes.
You’d be lying if you said you were a fan of Dr. Lim. You already had your issues with the man when you both worked for the government, before this all started. Once the Outbreak had begun, it had taken you forty-eight hours as his assistant before you had requested to start working out in the field. You’re well-aware of his shortcomings.
Unfortunately, and it stings to admit it, he’s one of the most competent doctors you’ve ever met. He’d be more than able to take care of the Sergeant.
“You do realize I have other things to do, right?”
“And I am deeply sorry to have taken you away from your fifth grade biology lessons.”
…Okay, he has a point. Finally done with your thorough handwashing — it’s not nearly as sanitizing as you’d like it to be, but it’s not like there’s a lot more you can do —, you come to stand in front of him.
“Does it hurt a lot?” you ask as you start undoing the bandage. At least working with the military means that the men all know what they’re doing in terms of first-aid.
“Could be worse. I think I just need stitches.”
You’d trust him, if it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve heard him say that about injuries that could have been fatal, had you not been there. In this case, though, you’re relieved to see it does look mostly fine. Whatever attacked him slashed through him, deep enough to be concerning but without actually damaging the muscle or hitting an important artery.
“What happened here?”
“One of the guys tried to take something from a monster,” the Sergeant Kim replies flatly. “I intervened.”
“Oh, it’s good it didn’t turn out worse, then?”
“Not really,” he says with a shrug. “The monster wasn’t violent until disturbed. This could have easily been avoided.”
“Sounds like your boys need a stern talking-to.”
While talking, you go fetch what you need. At least you’ve got everything required for something like stitching someone up, which you can’t say about most other ailments.
“I’ll handle that,” the Sergeant answers from behind you, and you smile. He exudes this quiet strength that you cannot help but be impressed by. His men would follow him to the end of the world and back, if he asked, and you can see why.
“Alright, well, you know the drill,” you tell him, coming back in front of him. “Think you’ll be okay?”
It’s silly to ask, with how often you’ve had to patch him or his men up. You’re well aware of his resistance to pain. Nonetheless, your training requires you ask, even if it’s no surprise when he nods in answer.
“Just go for it.”
You make quick and easy work of the wound. You focus on being fast and efficient rather than on lessening the pain, which you know is for the best with him. It’s not long before you’re setting your tools back down, done with your work. There are a few seconds during which the Sergeant takes the time to relax his jaw, to breathe in a couple of times, and then he nods at you.
“All done?” he asks.
“You’ll need to come back here so I can check on it,” you say. “And try not to put any strain yourself with that arm for a couple days, alright?”
He nods, but you don’t put much faith in that. As a soldier, you’d think he’d be good at following orders and, to be fair, you’ve heard he did an outstanding job most of the time. Unfortunately, your recommendations seemed to fall into deaf ears more often than not.
“Is that all?”
“Sure,” you say, even if his nonchalance exhausts you. “Hope I don’t see you here again for a good while.”
This, at least, brings a smile to his lips, and you try your best to suppress your shiver. He gets up from the table, and stands up, just inches from you. He’s so close, his torso almost brushes against your chest.
“Is that so, Doc?”
Damn that man.
“You know, if you keep this up, I’ll end up thinking you’re landing yourself in here on purpose,” you say.
The smile turns more amused.
“I would never endanger myself on purpose,” he tells you with disarming honesty. “But I’d be lying if I said I minded this kind of flesh wounds all that much these days.”
And before you can tell him just what you think of that, of course, he leans in to capture your lips. It’s not the first time. It doesn’t look like it will be the last time. And you’re in one of the very few rooms in the stadium that can actually lock.
Fuck it, you decide, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. It doesn’t matter why the two of you play that game together, the people you shared a past with and that are long gone, the fact that this relationship was built on blood. What matters is that in his arms, for however long you get to have him, you forget that the world is doomed.
If him coming back for more over and over again is any indication, so does he.
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hope you liked this, it's a little sillier than what i've written for the fandom so far, so that was fun to play with. i don't know if i'll write for other soldiers because most of them... didn't leave me much of an impression as far as their personality goes, but i tried something for sergeant kim ^-^ please consider leaving a comment or reblogging if you're enjoying my writing, interactions are what keep me motivated to write for a fandom!
more writing for sweet home
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kurokens · 7 months ago
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In The Middle | Satosugu
anime/manga: jujutsu kaisen
character: gojo satoru & geto suguru
words: 798
pronouns: they/them
request: none
notes: probably an overused prompt but idc sue me, i needed to write one of my own. im a sucker for misunderstanding. i haven't written anything in such a long time, it's been a while im sorry, satosugu have been on my mind for a while, and i needed to write something with them because i love them so fucking much. it's gonna be a series, so hopefully i dont disappear after one part lol... later on it might be specific on some insecurities bc i need it and i thought well let's just share it with the world and other who might need it. sorry for any mistakes T-T
not proof read
song rec: SHE'S - In The Middle
genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slowburn, a little bit angsty, poly?
warnings: bad english not my first language, satosugu are in a loving relationship, misunderstanding, pinning, a lot of pinning on satosugu's end, reader is so oblivious (is that the right one?), insecure and self conscious reader
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You've always told yourself you weren't the type to live with anyone, you liked your quiet and your peace. Alone in your little bubble, without a soul to disturb it. And yet, here you were awoken by your roomates lover quarrel in the room next door, for the hundredth time this week.
"Don't you love me anymore? Am I not enough for you?" a whiny voice whisper-screamed "Satoru, my love, it was a dream, it was all in your head." an exhausted voice replied
"So what?? It doesn't mean anything? Are my feelings not valid?" Gojo huffed.
"How are you so dramatic so early in the morning? Let's go back to sleep come here.", Geto carefully lifted the blanket so his boyfriend could go back exactly where he belonged, asleep and quiet in his arms.
Such occurences weren't new to you, you could even say there were your daily life, that's why you laughed hearing the bickering couple, and turned around in your bed to try and fall back asleep while their muffled voices could still be heard in the background. This was without counting on what part of their conversation your brain decided to pick up on next. "I dont know for how much longer I can do this Sugu.." Satoru sighed. "Me neither love, but there is nothing much we can do about it.They live with us." His black haired lover replied. "I know, ugh I know, but it's getting so much harder everyday. Seeing them is becoming unbearable. I can't stand it anymore, we need to do something." He went on. "Shh, I know, I feel the same. But we can't just drop this on them all of the sudden and expect it to go well." The oldest reasoned.
Your heart shattered on the other side of the wall, now sitting against the headboard, an unstoppable flow of tears falling down your face. You were a bother? You thought the three of you were friends, shit, scratch that, best friends. And yet, yet, this was how they felt about you. Fuck fuck FUCK You needed to calm down, it's okay, you're okay. It must have been a nightmare, yeah that's right, a nightmare. Your brain loved playing tricks on you, waking you up in the middle of the night with the most vivid and realistic nightmares ever, enough to send you into full blown meltdown. Nothing to worry about, it was just a nightmare, nothing else. That's what you told yourself and yet when you woke up you couldnt shake this weird feeling in your stomach. You contemplated staying in your bed all day and avoid your roomates but that would be silly to ignore them for something that was potentially just a dream. So you shook the silly feelings away and got out of your bed, made your way to the kitchen to make some breakfast. Your two roommates were already there, being lovey dovey in each others lap and the weird feeling made its way back into your stomach. "Hi there." You greeted tiredly, only to be met with an echo of short hms, and not even a nod to accompany the cold greeting. The lack of acknowledgment not helping with your already overthinking mind, you decided to take a quick breakfast and just leave them be. It could just be a coincidence, nothing to worry about haha, right? Or so you thought, because you were back in your room mindlessly scrolling through tik tok when you once again hear the muffled voices of your roommates. Your brain screamed at you to put your headphones on and drown out their conversation, but you couldn't get yourself to do it, and you decided to listen to them, to at least finally be able to know whether or not you dreamed what happened last night. And maybe you shouldn't have, but what else could you do now but listen to the cruel words of the ones you once considered your best friends. "Suguru, we need to do it soon. I can't even handle looking at them in the eyes anymore, let alone utter a word to them. We can't keep going like this." Satoru complained. "I know 'Toru, I know, but you need to understand it's not as easy as you think it is." You heard the black haired man answer. And it was enough for you, you needed to get out of there. You obviously were no longer welcomed here, and the sooner you left, the better it would be, for both parties. So inbetween tears you picked up a bag and threw some spare clothes and anything that you could think of in your frenzy state before you ran out of there, determined to never come back, at least not for a while.
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here u gooo!! sorry i've been away for a while, i've been finding it hard to write and staying focused, but i missed it so much, especially for these two. i'll try not to take too long to write AT LEAST a second part, but would love to do more than this bc i want it to be extremely slown burn and a little bit angsty krkrkr
part 2 is here!!
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 13 days ago
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give yourself a reason | m. murdock
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a/n: hi guys. this is much different than what I promised you last time I posted and it's a lot different than what i usually post but i've been struggling so intensely with my depression and anxiety and genuinely the only thing that's gotten through it is "you can't kill yourself yet, you haven't seen daredevil born again" so i guess this is a fic about that lmao warnings: massive trigger warning for depression and suicidal thoughts, like just. pretty much the entire fic is the reader wanting to die and having bad mental health. besides maybe some cursing (but i cant recall) that's pretty much it. word count: 2.1k summary: the devil of hell's kitchen talks you off a ledge (literally) pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader now playing: call your mom - noah kahan "medicate, meditate, save your soul for jesus/throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason/don't wanna drive another mile without knowin' you're breathin'"
You are the light in a dark room for so many people.
You are the glue of your friend group—Constantly planning hangouts, constantly responding to text messages, you’re always there for people.
You visit the bodega at the corner every morning for a large coffee and to pet the bodega cat.
You bring donuts in to work every Friday, for no reason other to bring joy to people’s lives.
You have every reason to live.
You…
Are standing on the ledge of your building, wondering if you’d pass out before you hit the ground.
You’ve dealt with depression for years. It’s been an uphill battle since you were eleven, maybe even earlier. And it goes through phases—Sometimes, you just coexist with it. It lives in the corner of your brain, where a lamp or a soulmate should be. You know it’s with you, but sometimes it just sits on your shoulder, observing.
Other times, it shackles you. It weighs you down, pulling you down under the crashing waves, and every time you pull yourself up to breath, it drags you down faster, more relentlessly.
It’s an intense unfortune that you could blame on any number of things, and you have tried.
But things have been bad recently.
And it’s not that your life is particularly hard right now—There’s no looming deadlines, your relationships are all fine, you thought you were happy, really, but one day you woke up.. unable to come up with a reason.
For as long as you can remember, you’ve found a reason. For a long time you thought, no, I couldn’t do that to my mom. Then, you said if you could just make it to college, everything would be easier. And then, you figured if you could make it to New York City, you’d be able to cope with things.
And it worked for a while, but—
“Hey,” A voice says from behind you, “hey, just—take a step back.” The voice says, and you tilt your head back, trying to look at who has interrupted you in this vulnerable moment.
“Go away,” You demand, your voice harsh as you realize you are not dealing with just any old witness- The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen stands behind you.
You know all about him. He popped up a year or two before you moved to the city, and you’ve always kind of daydreamed about him saving you—You’ve seen pictures and videos of him, glimpses of him.. But they’re just fleeting moments of a silly crush.
“You know I can’t do that,” He says, his voice getting closer. “I won’t do that.”
Then you feel tears in your eyes. Nothing can be easy, can it?
“Please,” You beg, “I’m not hurting anyone, I just.. want it to stop.”
“You are hurting someone. You’re about to hurt yourself and I won’t let that happen.” But he knows you won’t step away. And he doesn’t want to tackle you off the ledge.
“Please,” You say again, a shaky hand wiping your cheek, your heartbeat thumping out of your chest. You don’t want to die. You just don’t want to be in pain anymore.
“Let’s just sit,” he offers, his voice much closer to you now. “You don’t have to get off the ledge, just sit.” He requests.
“Look, devil man, I really don’t want you to give me some speech about how life is worth living, okay? Just—”
“We don’t have to talk about why you’re up here,” he says, “We can just sit.” From the corner of your eye, you see him sitting next to where you stand, his legs dangling over the edge.
He offers you a hand to help you sit down.
You take it.
And you’re not even sure why, because you don’t want to talk to this man, no matter how you admire what he does to other people. You sit next to him, and you feel yourself getting pulled down again, unable to breathe. Static fills your brain, repeating horrible things, telling you that everything for everyone would be easier if you just—
“Have you ever considered that Dr. Pepper could be a woman?”
“What?” You blink, now looking at him. What a ridiculous thing to say to a person who was about to kill themselves?
“Well, have you?”
“Uh.. No.” You answer, your face still twisted in confusion. “No, I’ve never considered that.”
“I always hear about people talking about this hypothetical doctor behind the soda, and they always refer to them as a man. Kind of messed up,” He shrugs.
“I don’t understand,” You respond honestly.
“I told you we didn’t have to talk about why you were up here, but I never said anything about not talking at all.”
You suppose he has a point.
“Okay.” You answer, feeling awkward now.
“Have you lived in the City long?” He wonders aloud.
“No,” You find yourself echoing the same story you’ve told a thousand times. “No, I moved here about a year ago.”
“Do you like it?”
Your stomach churns.
“Yeah.” You’re having a hard time being more descriptive than that.
“Have you been to see any good shows?” he asks, “Oh, have you seen Wicked?”
You’re confused again. You glance back at him. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is asking you if you’ve seen a Broadway musical about The Wicked Witch of the West. Much like the question about Dr. Pepper, you’re just extremely caught off guard, because it seems so out of character.
“Not in years.” You answer, “I saw it with my mom when I was younger.”
“Well you should see it again.” He said, “It’s really good, even better than you remember.” He promises.
“Why are you talking about this?” You answer, and he sighs.
“The confusion is on purpose,” He confesses, “I heard somewhere that if you can just distract someone having an episode, it might pull them out of it.”
You do feel.. better.. You suppose. You’ve been pulled above water, able to breathe, because in your confusion, there was no room for any static or bad thoughts to get in. Maybe better is a strong word, but there’s an absence of all of the intense thoughts that distracted you.
“Oh.. Thank you.” Is all you find yourself saying.
“I’m gonna go back on my promise,” he starts, “I need to ask you why you feel like this is your only option.”
Your shoulders fall a bit, remembering everything.
“You’re a liar.”
“Just try.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Have you ever tried it?”
“Tried what?”
“Verbalizing it, saying it all out loud?”
Well, now you feel silly. Very silly. You know a therapist might help, but you’ve been busy. And—
“You have your own problems,” You start, “I can’t ask you to take on my problems, too.”
“I asked you to talk about it,” he responds, “Besides, we don’t even know each other. You’re not burdening me, I promise.” And you’re inclined to believe him.
So, you take a deep breath and search for your words.
“I just can’t find a reason.” You start. “I’ve always been able to find a reason before, a reason to keep going, to push ahead, but..” You blink. “I just can’t find it. I’ve gone through all my usuals.”
“What about your mom?” he asks, recalling your earlier comment about him.
“She was the reason for a long time.” You confess, “But she has my stepdad now. Everyone’s taken care of. My friends, my siblings, my mom.. The only one who’s alone is me.”
The Devil doesn’t say it, but his heart aches for you.
“People would miss you,” he recalls his own depression, “They’d grieve you as intensely as they love you.” He reminds, and you know that.
“They’d find a way to move on.” You reason, “They’d have to figure it out.”
“How long have you been dealing with these feelings?”
“As long as I can remember.” You respond, “I thought if I could survive my childhood, it would stop. Moving here, that was supposed to be the end, but..” You frown. “After the honeymoon phase, I’m just back in that hole.”
“There’s ways to get you out of that hole,” He promises.
“How?” You demand, tears filling your eyes, “Tell me a reason I should keep going that I haven’t heard, that I haven’t thought, that actually gets through to me,” You ask.
He pauses. It’s a tall order.
“You know there’s no magical cure.” He starts, “But you find the little things. You can’t find any big reason to live? Fine. Find the small reasons,” He reasons, “The way sun feels on your skin, your favorite team winning a game, a homecooked meal.”
“Give me a big reason.” You request.
“I can hear heartbeats,” he says, and when you scoff, he shakes his head, “No, seriously. So, here’s your big reason: Don’t make me listen to your heart stop beating.”
It’s a low blow. A hit to your core, right to the part of you that feels guilty you even have these feelings.
“Let me walk you home.” He says after a moment.
“I live in this building,” You say, and for a moment, you almost think that the Devil tenses, like he hadn’t realized that.
“Then let me walk you to your apartment. It’s cold out here, c’mon.” He offers.
“How do you know I won’t just do it tomorrow? Or after you leave?”
“I trust you,” And somehow you don’t believe him. But he swings his legs around and stands on the solid ground of the roof. He offers his hand to you again. “Let’s go inside.”
You take his hand and let him guide you off the ledge, and it only takes a few steps for you to start crying—truly sobbing at the idea of what you were about to do. The Devil is right; tonight won’t be the night.
And as soon as he listens to you start sobbing, his arms are around you like he’s known you your entire life. He’s warm, safe. His hand gently rubs your back, his pointer finger running up and down your spine. The Devil gives wonderful hugs, it reminds you of hot soup on a winter day, the first hot day of spring after a long winter, and a memory from before depression reared it’s ugly head at you, of being three, maybe four years old on Christmas Eve, wrapped in blankets, safe and loved, with a full stomach of food.
You don’t know him, but you know right then and there that you’ll be grateful to him forever.
“It’s okay,” he says softly, his voice like a lullaby, “You’re okay. I’ve got you, sweetheart.” You can tell he means the words, that they aren’t obligatory, but genuine. He’ll look after you. He lets you cry into his shoulder for a long time, reminding you to breath.
When there’s no tears left to cry, The Devil gently pulls away, his hand now on your cheek as he wipes away the tears that run down your face.
And there’s only one thing left to say,
“Let me take you home.” He says gently. And you nod, words escaping you. You walk with him down to your apartment, letting him tuck you into bed after drinking some water. As you wait for sleep to find you, he gently brushes hair from your face as he asks, “Promise me you’ll call someone tomorrow. A therapist, a help line, your mom. Promise me you’ll find the help you need. Promise me you’ll find a reason.”
Studying his features, since, you don’t know when you’ll see him again, you nod.
“I promise.”
He leans forward and kisses your forehead. It’s foreign. Welcomed. Paternal.
“Good. Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Don’t be a stranger,” You request, and you see the corners of his lips twitch up.
“I’ll tell you what,” He starts, “I’ll come visit you tomorrow night, too. Okay?”
“Okay.”
The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen saves people—but not everyone needs to be saved in the same way.
He waits for you to fall asleep before he leaves, breaking the lock on the door up to the roof so you can’t get up there, not until they fix it. Then, he makes his way to the window on the other side of your floor, to the apartment down the hall from yours.
He crawls into the window and pulls off his cowl, before showering, and then crawling into bed. He hopes you’ll find a reason, but he knows he’ll show up again if you can’t. That’s just the type of person he is.
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kodamaghost00 · 8 months ago
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30 Lucifer Headcanons
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[Disclaimer!!]
This post will contain: NSFW,Sfw, Fluff, Smut
It's also Genderless for the girls,gays and theys!You're a new resident at the Hotel in this scenario.
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Let’s begin!
Calls his partner “Angel” or “Love”. But will come up with outrageous names to annoy you too.
Makes his loved ones custom ducks. And he gets really nervous showing you the finished product.
“So uhhh… I made this one for you.” He said quite nervously as he gave you your duck. “Oh it’s lovely Lucifer… thank you so much.”.
He looked at you flabbergasted “Wait really?! You like it…?”. You just chuckled “Of course I do!”
You were there for him when Lilith left him. He was so down but you cheered him up.
When Lucifer and Alastor had their little sing session he was so happy that you sided with him and not that red deer guy.
He thinks it’s adorable that you get along with Charlie. He loves the way you care about her, and believe in her dreams.
Besides his “calm” personality he gets quite protective over time. When he notices you get hurt by something/someone he is immediately there you care for you.
He makes unhinged comments and jokes without even noticing that they’re out of place sometimes.
Ever since angel called him a “Short king” the term has stuck with him. He casually calls himself that as well.
He tries to learn more slang from the other residents and tries them out on you… “You serve *snaps fingers*… the outfit slaps ngl.” You just laughed your ass off due to his stiff voice and lack of feeling.
He enjoys basin and cooking a lot. He prefers to have you as a helper.
He’s a ambivert who’s pretty good at masking. Not many people notice when he’s exhausted.
Definitely a hopeless romantic. He WILL take you on a date with roses and jazz in the background. And if everything goes well he maybe even take you to his place?
He likes to get dominated but he also loves to dominate. Whatever you’re up to actually, he’ll just go along with it.
Groans overall but whimpers and whines when he’s close.
When you ride on top of him he digs his fingers into your sides and it gets firmer and stronger as he finishes.
He is definitely very weak in the way that he can’t hold in for long. You do one right move and he’s cumming fast.
He also enjoys bondage very much. He’d fuck you while you hand from the roof with a gag in your mouth. In combo with a blindfold? Seeing you drool? He finishes faster than you can say “Bow chika bow bow.”
GREAT IN AFTERCARE!!! He will spoil you with sweet words and cuddles. “You did so great love… thank you.”
He bathed with his rubber duck. His favorite is probably an apple themed one.
He also wears a little make-up. Like going out without a little eyeliner? Nuh uh.
He made his cane himself. The apple on top is exchangeable with a Rubber duck, skull and a snake. He’s making new ones as well.
He is already autistic coded with a special interest in ducks. But imagine he invented them. Like imagine he said ”Hey God… I have this little idea, do you think you can make it work?”
He gets nervous if you two make eye contact for too long. He’d laugh it off though saying it’s no big deal for him.
So so done with life sometimes he just drinks 3 black coffees in the span of 3 hours.
He easily gets distracted by literally anything and everything. Also procrastinates a lot.
He loves hugs from the back. And hugs in general make him feel so loved by you.
His love languages are Physical Touch and Acts of Service. You making him breakfast and cuddles afterwards? He’s straight up in love.
“You made this all for me love…? Wow that’s so amazing thank you so so much…” he gets stressed easily so seeing how much you care for him makes him tear up.
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MASTERLIST
Thank you all so much for reading my silly headcanons [And also 20 followers]! I wanted to say “Loves Eskimo kisses” but I remembered he doesn’t rlly have a nose (πーπ). But yeah anyways… if you have requests don’t be shy and ask! I’d be happy to work on requests! Have a great day/night!
- Your Ghost ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ
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frenchonionsoop · 8 months ago
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How did Oda leave such a strong impression on Dazai?
OOHH ok i have a lot of thoughts on this topic so bear with me, this is gonna be a long one My interpretation is the first thing Dazai latched onto about Oda was his honesty.
Oda is a very straightforward person, he rarely ever if at all has an ulterior motive and it totally blindsides Dazai. He can't manipulate Oda because he'll take what he says too literally, he can't predict him - not because Oda is good at hiding his thoughts, he just naturally has the most unreadable resting poker face imaginable - and no matter what he does nothing seems to phase Oda (keyword "seems", it often does he just doesn't show it) , and it intrigues Dazai.
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As seen with Chuuya we know Dazai gets hooked on people who surprise and/or impress him, so I can absolutely understand how he saw the enigma that is Oda and said "you're my friend now we're having soft tacos later <3".
I could go on for hours about the various times Oda has bamboozled Dazai and how each effected him profoundly in so many different ways, but that's a discussion for another time. I don't think just these factors would realistically warrant Dazai's drastic change in world outlook and spur on his sudden redemption arc, so what did?
I believe it was his complete lack of judgement. Despite Dazai's constant suicide attempts and harsh view of the world not once did Oda outwardly judge him for it, which is in some ways a blessing and in some ways a curse. Oda never viewed himself as qualified enough to call Dazai out, which in hindsight might've done harm as there were times were Dazai needed someone to call him out, but unbeknownst to Oda that lack of judgement gave Dazai room to breathe.
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He saw right past the silly facade and the darker side to Dazai, he saw a "sobbing child abandoned in the darkness of a world far emptier than the one we're seeing", and he saw a friend.
And this is exactly why Oda's last words hit Dazai so hard. Odasaku, who never speaks up for himself, Odasaku, who's so genuine he'd believe a murderer if they simply said "I didn't do it", Odasaku, who is now telling Dazai life might just be little better if he decides to help rather than hurt.
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Bleeding out on the floor of a mansion, in a desperate attempt to make up for all the times he didn't confront Dazai Oda has to find some way to get through to him and fast. His harsh words to Dazai on how he'll never find that happiness he so desperately craves are so jarring they snap him out of his panic, suddenly he's blindsided all over again, and that vulnerable state gives Oda's next words the chance to reach deeper - "be on the side that saves people."
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In order to truly get through to him, Oda needed to level with Dazai, the only way to do that in such little time was to repeat back to him his own internal mantra of "never filling that hole that is his loneliness". It's clear his words are false, especially the line "nothing beyond your own expectations will happen" as Dazai's entire speech to Fyodor in the prison is about his belief in the unpredictable nature of human beings.
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But regardless, that slap in the face of hearing his own self-destructive thoughts voiced aloud after going his entire life without ever considering anybody else could understand them heightened Dazai's faith in Oda's promise of a life that's "a bit more wonderful."
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What makes me adore Oda and Dazai's friendship so much is how grounded and natural it feels. Oda isn't some perfect saviour who always knows exactly what to say, far from it, he was a 23 year old PM grunt with 5 kids and a love for spicy curry, but that's all he needed to be.
Sorry this is so ramble-y and long winded if you couldn't tell already Oda's my favourite character so I have a lot to say about him 😭 Thank you so much for the ask!!!
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theyhavetakenovermylife · 9 months ago
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I saw the lack of rottmnt in here and decided "hey, why not give it a shot?"
Neon Leon in blue having a sweet relationship with Big Mama's techy daughter
Big Mama’s Daughter (Fluff)
Rise!Leonardo x reader
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A/N: A short one, but I thought it was pretty cute. But I do indeed lack ROTTMNT stuff, so if people have some ideas, BRING THEM! HELP YA GIRL OUT😂💚
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Warnings: Nein💙
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“Take a look at this, babe”, Leo mumbled with an amused smile, pulling you closer against his plastron, letting you have a clear look at the screen of his phone. You snuggled closer to his chest, feeling his arm wrap around your waist, letting your own phone rest beside you on the bed.
You watched the video play out on his phone, depicting two men practicing martial arts, only for one of them to fall flat on their butt with a funny sound and an overly funny pose. You laughed out loud, trying to get a better view as the video played over again, Leo smiling at your reaction.
These small moments between you and your boyfriend, meant a lot to you. It had taken a long time before the two of you were able to hang out at each others’ places, without your parents throwing a fit. Well, neither you or Leo had thought it would be easy, especially not with your mother and Leo’s father having been in a relationship, and Leo’s other father generally having a hard time with Big Mama. But now they had finally calmed down, not letting their pasts get in the way for you and Leo. That did not mean that they now were the best of friends, but they were getting along well enough now.
However, that did not mean that you and Leo stopped your quote on quote “sneaking around”. You would still do what you did back then, with Leo teleporting back and forth between yours and his place, spending the night at your place or bringing you to the lair, all while you manipulated the signal from Leo’s tracker, making it look like he was still in the lair. Donatello’s face when you and Leo finally told him that you had with ease manipulated or blocked several of his tracking systems, was still a large talking point between you and your boyfriend, still making you laugh to this day.
“You are a little silly, Lee”, you giggled, letting your full weight rest against his plastron, making him fall back on your bed with a smile, letting his phone fall forgotten by his side, his full attention drawn to you and your beautiful face.
“Me? Silly? Neeeeveeer”, he chuckled, before wrapping his other arm around, tangling your legs together, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m such a mature, smart, sweet, good looking, humble-”.
“Humble?”, you giggled. “That is probably one of the least humble things you’ve ever said, and that says a lot”.
Leo let out a gasp in overexaggerated shock, throwing his arm dramatically above his head. “How can you say such a thing?”, he playfully exclaimed, making you smile and giggle at his antics. “My own girlfriend! Oh, (Y/N), you’ve hurt me!”, he continued, trying to hide his smile, laying a hand above his heart.
“Aww, Leon!”, you laughed, playing along with the act, finding it just as amusing as he did. “It was not my intention to hurt you. What can I do to make it better? Tell me, babe!”
Leo’s arms quickly around you once again, making you laugh when he started making kissy faces at you. “You know very well what you can do to make it better”, he teased. “Gimme a kiss!”
You giggled, taking a hold of his face, holding him still so you could peck his lips, making Leo smile like he was drunk, resting his forehead against yours.
“Much better”, he sighed, rubbing his beak against your nose. “But I could use another one”.
“Needy”, you teased, before placing your lips back on his for a sweet tender kiss, that made Leo hum in delight, a happy churr vibrating from his chest. But that was soon interrupted by a sudden beep from your tech watch, followed by the voice of your mother.
“(Y/n)”, she said, making you and Leo jump, finding Big Mama looking at you and Leo through the screen on your watch.
“H- hey mama”, you smiled, you and Leo’s cheeks growing hot. “Y- you didn’t hear or see anything, did you?”
Your mother sighed, rolling her eyes, hiding a small smile. You had not mentioned to her that Leo was coming over that day, nor had you told her when he arrived, but it did not surprise her that he was in your room. In truth, she was just happy that you were happy and treated well, even if it was by the mutant that had tricked her several times in the past.
“You and Leo can come out of your room now. Dinner is ready”, she said, before turning off her communication, leaving you and Leo slightly embarrassed. However, that was soon forgotten when all three of you sat together during dinner, enjoying each others’ company. Big Mama could never be mad at you for spending time with the man you loved, nor could she be mad at Leo when he made you so happy.
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corpupine · 7 months ago
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I've been doing a lot of thinking...and I feel like I need to scream this out somehow even though I'm sure it's been talked about before (and I'm putting it under a readmore because it gets long).
No matter what, in any playthrough you do and any timeline you create.
UNDERTALE is a game about guilt.
You have Toriel, so guiltridden she couldn't protect her own children that she devotes herself to never letting another child leave again. And then they do!! over and over again, that guilt compounds until it's the center of her life and every choice she makes!!
And obviously Asgore, so guiltridden that he couldn't protect his own children from humans that he spends the rest of his days trying to get out and get revenge on them--as if that will stop the voices in his head saying, if you had been out there with them you could have stopped it, you could have stopped those humans from killing your children, and maybe he could have!! Or maybe not!! He'll never know and it eats him from the inside out!
Alphys, oh my sweet summer child this fandom does not deserve you!! Alphys, so guiltridden from her own perceived failures as a scientist that she began to try anything, anything to make the King happy, and it seemed to be working at first, and then it was so everlastingly worse, how can you cause something worse than death?? without even trying??
And it shows up in little ways, silly ways, too! Ways you wouldn't even think about as guilt! Undyne! She feels guilty that she won't let Papyrus join the Royal Guard so she gives him cooking lessons instead! Papyrus feels guilty that he's not in love with you after one date so he'll "keep being your cool friend and act like this never happened!"
SANS MY BOI don't even get me started. His guilt isn't as physically obvious but he made a promise to toriel, he promised her he would keep the human safe, and in timelines where you save everyone he follows you pretty much all throughout the Underground (even if he doesn't do anything to help smh) because he'd feel guilty not doing it, and in timelines where you kill everyone he feels guilty for not stopping you, AND in those SAME timelines he feels guilty for stopping you because it means he's breaking his promise to Toriel to keep you safe I!!! This boy can fit so much cosmic guilt in him!!!!
Asriel! FLOWEY!! Do you ever wonder if he feels guilty about being the one to wake up again? The one to survive, when Chara had to die twice?? He sits at their grave and he will do anything, anything to drown out those thoughts so he befriends and kills and torments and it's all the same and it's all useless!!
And their guilt compounds each others'! Toriel makes Sans make that promise because of her own guilt, which increases his! Asgore's guilt is what pushes Alphys so far past the limits of ethical science, because he increases hers!
And all of this, all of this, ALL OF THIS pales in comparison to you!!!
You!! The player! You return to the Underground after maybe accidentally killing Toriel or a few others because you didn't know, you never wanted to hurt them!! You listen to Flowey and you come back and you save them all!
You! The player!!! You cry at the ending and you'd feel guilty, so guilty about letting them all go, wouldn't you? So you ignore Flowey's pleas to let it alone, and you come back again, you say hello to your dear friends but this time it isn't the same, this time you kill them all because you want to see everything this game has to offer, might as well get your money's worth, the fights are cool, right?? And then you get hit with the most unsatisfying atomic bomb of an ending and the only thing left is your own reflection staring back at you from the black screen of your computer as the horror dawns, what have you done???
YOU!!! The player! You go back again even though there is no Flowey left to tell you to, and you save them all again because I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, nobody deserves what I did to all of you, and it's all good, nobody remembers, and then you get to the end. The game knows what you did!!! It never forgot, and it'll make certain you never forget either!! Guilt!! Guilt, guilt!!! It's baked into the code of this game!!
Anyways tl;dr, maybe it actually did make sense to give this game to the pope
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vodika-vibes · 6 months ago
Note
Hi vod'ika! Congrats on the 650!!
For the event, could I request a Jesse fic 😍 set in the same Mermaid/soulmate au as your Tup fic.
Maybe Jesse helping his Cya're get used to her tail? Or whatever you want, just my first brush 😋
Thank you!
Don't Worry, I Have You
Summary: It’s done, after one long year, the binding is done, and you’re a mermaid. Just one problem. You don’t know how to swim.
Pairing: ARC Trooper Jesse x F!Reader
Word Count: 980
Prompt: Mermaid AU
Warnings: None
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @the-bad-batch-baroness @kimiheartblade
A/N: I wanted this to be longer, but my brain decided that it was done wording. I hope you enjoy it! I can't wait until I can sit at my computer again. One more week.
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The magic washes over you, cool and soothing, like a hand pressed against your forehead when you’re sick. It feels like a homecoming, like this is how you have always meant to be. 
You worried about so many things about today. That you would make a mistake, that you would ruin the binding, that the magic would reject you. You worried about what your tail would look like, worried that Jesse would no longer want you when you were mer (a ridiculous worry, but anxiety is a bitch), worried that the transformation would hurt, worry that you would panic the first time you tried to breathe underwater—
But now that you’re here and the transformation is over, all of those fears have vanished. 
You blink over at Jesse, who’s watching you with a look of such adoration on his handsome face that you lift your hands to cover your face. Or, that’s your plan, until you catch sight of your tail.
It’s shorter than Jesse’s, though your fins are longer and a lot more flowy. Your scales are a darker shade of blue than Jesse’s own, and you have a lot fewer white scales than him, your colors appearing to be more dark blue and gray, rather than the vibrant blue and white of Jesse. 
If you had to explain it in a word, Jesse’s tail looks more streamlined while you look more decorative.
You open your mouth to ask something, only to realize that you’re sinking. “Uh…?” It’s at that very moment that you realize that you have no idea how to move your tail. You try to move your tail, your face scrunching up in thought, but all you manage to do is flip yourself upside down.
Above you, Jesse laughs, warm and bright, sounding genuinely amused. Though you’re relieved when you feel his hands on your hips as he repositions you so that you’re upright again.
He keeps one hand on your hip while the other one moves to cup your face.
You close your eyes and rub your cheek against his rough hand, “How do I look?” You ask without opening your eyes.
“Perfect, just like I knew you would.” Jesse replies, and you open your eyes to see that he’s staring at your face. There’s a look of such adoration on his face that you can’t help but smile at him.
“My tail is darker than yours.”
“Safety thing. Women have darker scales to keep them safe from predators.” Jesse explains, “Babies are darker too.” He adds.
That makes sense, you decide after a moment of thought. It’s how it works with birds, at least.
“How are you feeling?” Jesse asks, his voice gentle. “I know you were pretty anxious for the last couple of days.”
You wrap your arms around him comfortably and consider his question, “Now that the binding is done,” You finally say, “A lot of my anxiety has faded. Some of my anxieties were a bit silly, thinking back.”
“Not silly. I couldn’t prepare you for everything, so they made sense.” Jesse corrects as he leans in and bumps his forehead against yours, “Have all of your concerns faded, then?”
You nod, and then smile at him, “There’s just one more concern.”
“Oh?”
Your smile turns sheepish, “I can’t seem to figure out how to swim.”
He grins, “I had noticed that.” Jesse pulls away from you and presses a quick kiss against your lips. “I’ll help you.”
“I won’t get in the way of you swimming?” You ask nervously.
“Never.” He pulls away and holds out his hands to you, and you immediately take them.
Jesse pulls you through the water, out of the chamber where the transformation happens, and into deeper water. Your hands tighten nervously around his hands, and he squeezes your hands reassuringly.
“It’s okay, cyare.” He says soothingly, “Don’t worry, I have you.”
Your anxiety fades almost instantaneously. Jesse would never let anything hurt you, you know this with the same confidence that you know that the sun will rise in the morning.
“There we go,” Jesse murmurs as he moves closer to you, “Just relax.” He releases one of your hands and presses it soothingly against your hip, “You’re doing great, cyare. Can you feel the water against your fins?”
“Mmhmm,”
“Excellent job,” Jesse praises, “Can you try and move your side fin for me sweetheart?”
“I…how?”
He hums thoughtfully, and then presses a quick kiss against your lips, before he swims several feet away. You almost panic when you start sinking, but then, it’s like something snaps into place, and you’re able to find your tail. 
“Excellent job,” Jesse says with a grin as you keep yourself on level with him, “Now. Come over to me and get a kiss.”
You huff good naturedly as you turn your head to look at him. For a moment you don’t move, but then, slowly, you manage to turn and swim the short distance between you and Jesse.
He grins at you and sweeps you into his arms as you stop in front of him, his lips falling heavily against yours. “Stars, I love you.” he breathes against your lips, “Look at you, picking up swimming so quickly.” He peppers feather light kisses all over your face for long enough that you dissolve into giggles.
You reach up and cup his face, “I love you too. So much.” Your smile widens, “And now you’re all mine.”
“Was always all yours,” Jesse corrects, “Now we’re just part of the same world.” He kisses you one more time, and then pulls away, “Now that you have the basics down, let’s go home. I want to show you our grotto. I’ve been perfecting it for months.”
You swim over to him and take his hand, “Show me the way?”
His gaze is bright as his eyes lock with yours, “Always.”
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dulcewrites · 2 years ago
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Fire & Desire
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader (mentioned) , Aegon ii Targaryen x reader (wc: 2.2k)
Summary: Many sacrifices have been made to get Aegon on the throne. Including ones made by you
A/N: this had been sitting in my drafts for sooo long. I thought I’d revise it a bit, give me a bit of a break from fool me once. Hope y’all like it 🫶🏽🫶🏽. Sorry if there is lots of typos this was sort of posted on a whim
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When Aegon becomes King, it is up to us to guild him in the right direction. To have the ear of your husband is ever important…. That may mean giving things up in return.
The words had been ringing in your head all night. Along with the image of Alicent’s uncomfortable grimace. Your instinct was the ask her what she meant by that; play silly and confused. Easily moldable and docile, the way most people like.
But you know your good mother too well for that. She knows all. You should have seen this moment coming.
The next thing you wanted to do was apologize. Tell her that you do not know how you got yourself in this predicament. But Aegon has never been one to apologize for his indiscretions, so why should you. All you can give her a curt nod.
You know she advices you without any malice. The bolstering hate you sometimes saw in Queen Alicent, the kind you see in all her children in different dosages, had cooled to a melancholy resentment over the years. She’s grown older, a bit wiser. Or maybe she is just tired.
The type of debilitating exhaustion that only women would get. Women forced to do the bidding of those around them.
It was never going to be simple. It is never easy with this family. An heir that is never around, a dead King that was never suited from the job, and a circle of scheming noblemen. Recipe for chaos and destruction.
Alicent does not have the hope to be disappointed anymore. Everything is for survival now. So much has been given up for this, and now comes your time to pay the price. Just like Alicent has.
If she knows, you can assume that means Aegon does too. He is more observant than anyone would give him for.
There are days he looks at you, and you think he can tell what you have been up to. He can look right through you and see what his brother did to you that morning, or late the night before.
Does he wonder where you run off to, the way you did with him at the beginning of your marriage. When there was a blinding and painful need to make it work. If he does know, you are surprised he has not said anything to do… or to Aemond. Aegon’s emotions flow hot and wild. Being on the opposite end of it is a sight. But then he levels off, normally numbs whatever he feels with wine or whores. He is simple in a complicated way.
If he has any inkling about what you have been doing, he has not made it known. You don’t know if that is a relief or if it hurts. None of that Targaryen madness dealt out for his wife.
Your thoughts are broken when he stalks in. Freshly washed, slight bruises on his face, and wrapped in despair.
He does now acknowledge for presence, just climbs into bed after blowing out the few candles on his side of the room. The two of you lay in silence before you feel like you will crawl out of your skin if you do not say anything.
“I will stop seeing him… in that way,” you say into the darkness, voice stronger than you thought it would be. “If that pleases you.”
You turn from your back to your side to face him; you are greeted with a eyeful of silvery hair that seems to glow in the dark. His back facing you, rigid and uncomfortable.
“Aegon, did yo-“
“I heard you the first time,” he sighs, interrupting you.
There is more silence. You continue to stare at his back, till he slowly turns to face you. Even in the dark you can see the frown on his face. The moonlight illuminating him It is like speaking with his mother all over again. Does Alicent look at Aegon and get frightened? To give birth to someone who looks so much like you but disappoints you so deeply must be haunting. A terrible mirror to have.
“I am surprised you are even admitting it,” he mutters.
You decide not to tell him that the admission comes at the behest of his mother. There is no need to add to the list of things that splitter that relationship.
“We are going to need each other, now more than never. I am willing to admit… wrongdoing and repent for it. But we both have to do that for it to work.”
Your tongue feels heavy calling whatever Aemond, and you have wrongdoing. The proper term for it does not come because you don’t know what you two are. Lovers, confidants, prisoners. It’s all the same.
The frown deep softens a bit.
“Aenar is mine.”
It comes out like statement, but you suppose it is meant to be a question. Aenar is all Aegon is best and worst ways. Sweet cherubic features and a rambunctious spirit. They even pout in the same way when they do not get what they want. They are so alike that it stupidly makes you wonder at what age he will let you down. The way his father has before him.
“He is yours,” you whisper. “A tiny terror.”
Aegon lets out a short fit of playful laughter. The affection Aegon has towards the kids is something you were constantly taken aback by. When he was around, and in his right mind, he is electric with them. It made you a bit jealous. You pushed your body to the max, and Aenar follows him like he is a god. A Targaryen God.
“But Valaena…” he trials off bitterly.
You do not answer immediately. While Aemond barely even looked at you by the time you became pregnant with Aenar, things were different by the time you had your little girl. Your relationship with Aemond sweet and syrupy. The glow of intimacy neither of you had experienced before.
“No, she is yours.”
It is easier to say that, her features still soft and indiscernible. You think she is his. You hope for his sake she is. Aegon becomes extra warm around her. Baby talk and soft looks of love.
Perhaps you hope he is for her sake as well. If Aemond thinks Valaena is his daughter, he makes no effort to show it. At first, you thought it was him being smart. Knowing that taking too much of a liking would be suspicious. Then you quickly learned he just has no interest in that part of you. Sometimes you fear he sees that extension of you, your kids, as obstacles instead.
Living and breathing embodiments of the duty you put first.
“You would really stop,” Aegon rips you from his thoughts. “Tell Aemond that it is done?”
His voice lifts intrigued. A different conversation you had with Alicent floats in your mind.
Their want for different things keeps them from expressing their love, but it is there.
“Will you stop fathering flea bottom bastards?”
Aegon scoffs at your question, but nonetheless shuffles closer to you. He smells like lemon and roses.
“This is going to be so bad,” his voice wobbles a bit.
You want to agree, because it will; it is going to be blood spilling amounts of terrible. Instead of expressing that you lean forward too.
It is how the two of you fall asleep. Foreheads pressed together, noses brushing, and slow breathes mangled together.
Is that what having your husband’s ear is like?
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You know you are staring, unabashedly and grotesquely.
The only saving grace being that you are not the only one. Everyone in the dragon pit has their gaze on Aegon. Small folk watch on in confusion or admiration. Everyone on the stage hold more somber or stoic faces. Everyone accept Otto that is, who looks as pleased as you have ever seen him.
Alicent’s face is serenely flat. Helaena cannot look at her brother for too long, looking away at times. You do not dare turn to see Aemond’s reaction. Especially not after avoiding him all morning. There was a sinking feeling you got when your lady in waiting told he was outside of the door. Cowardly, you told her to tell him you were occupied. You did not know what to say to him yet.
Now all you can do if stare, and fiddle with the crisp fabric of your mute pink and gardenia dress.
It is terribly quiet in the pit. It only makes the affair even more uneasy.
There is something so devastatingly beautiful about his tear-stained face. You enjoy Aegon like this. Needy, helpless, and metaphorically flat on his back with shock and despair.
When he finally rises, Conqueror’s crown on his head, his eyes darts to everyone on stage. When his large, watery eyes finally get to you, you try to give him an encouraging smile. You are sure it reads more painful than reassuring or comforting. You bow your head expectedly.
King Aegon, Second of His Name. Gods helps you all.
The tides change once he turns to face the crowd. When the cheers start, there goes your meek Aegon. He lifts Blackfyre with a vigor you have never seen from your husband. There is a satisfaction that radiates off him. It’s stunning and terrifying to watch.
Despite everything, your eyes tear themselves away long enough to briefly glance at Aemond. If Aegon’s feeling burn fast and dissipate to light fizzles of hate, then Aemond’s resentment simmers for years, and flares when the flames are fanned.
His eyes never leave his brother’s back. Everyone enraptured by Aegon’s attitude change for different reasons.
The cheers reach their peak, and foolishly you think maybe things will be alright.
Then everything goes black.
This is going to be so bad
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It is only in the comfort of his own chambers, where Aemond feels like he can finally let out the breath he has been holding in for days.
His stomach has been in knots for days, waves nausea fluttering in certain moments. It reminds him of after he first lost his eye. He would get such painful headaches that it made sick. 
Now it is not his lack of an eye ailing him, it is you.
He should have known something was wrong when you would not allow him to see you. The necklace was missing too. The sterling silver locket with a sparkling sapphire in the middle of it. You had not taken it off since he gifted it to you… till today.
Aemond knows what it means.
You could barely meet his eye, as if you think your rejection would break him. He would rather gouge his other eye out than give Aegon the satisfaction of that.
The only time you seemed aware of his presence is when you squeezed his arm when they were all face to face with Meleys. The squeeze was surprisingly strong. Though it was not a scared squeeze, it was almost reassuring. You were ready to die. You had told him one night; whispered it in the dark. You knew it would be coming, and sooner than you wanted.
“Of course, we are going to die young,” you smile with little mirth. “Think of family we are in.” 
You had only expressed sadness for your children. That you hope when that time comes someone kind will take care of them and prayed, they would remember you as a gentle mother.
What a way it would’ve been to die at the fire of dragon. You, him, his siblings, and his mother… one big happy family.
Aemond decides not to tell you that sometimes he goes in Valaena’s room and just looks. He waits for the paternal instincts to kick in. One day he expects to look and see flashes of himself. As of now all he sees is your eyes. He supposes that is the next best thing. He already must see his brother, and mini version of him that hides behind your skirts.
He has no desire to take care a child right now, and he is not even sure she is his. But to be bound to you another way would be so lovely. So many parts of him are now yours, and vice versa. What is one more?
Aemond is not mad. He finds the whole idea of a mad Targaryen a bit macabre, even for his taste.
But he sees visions of Aegon sitting the throne with you at his side as queen and thinks it would be ok to see King’s Landing up in flames. Even better if he is the one to light the fire.
He saw the way your demeanor instantly shifted. Tending to hurt small folk, telling guards where to go and what to do. There was not a lick of fear in your eyes when someone addressed you as the queen. In fact, Aemond was sure he saw a flicker of glee run through your eyes. He cannot fault the self-serving side of you. He wishes to devour it the way he wishes to devour every other part of you.
You would have never agreed to marry Aegon if this outcome was not a possibility. Giving up a chance to have your name in the history books as Queen and your son as future heir is not an opportunity you would give up. Certainly not for him. Aemond knows Rhaenyra is coming. If not his half-sister, then his uncle will be plotting and planning. So, he will do what he always does. Sit and wait. One eye firmly on his clever girl.
When the spark is finally set, he hopes you two will burn together.
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pupyuj · 1 year ago
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wait why was the soft yujin ask actually so cute i neeeeeed to hear about soft dom ive always taking care of their gf in bed
this is a bit long cuz i included aftercare along w the sex so 😚😚 i went through several breakdowns writing this i love my girls.. my scrunklies.. my sillies...
gaeul is a service top IDCCCC 😤😩 maybe it's the unnie in her that just makes her want to prioritize your pleasure over her own,, esp if she gets way too busy to be with you :(( going from weeks to sometimes months without her bcs her schedule gets so packed, she feels so guilty about it as if it was her fault 😔 even when you reassure her that neither of you can do anything about it bcs she loves her job and you support her no matter what! and bcs of your never-ending support for her, she repays you by fucking you nice and well,,, she's kissing you everywhere, whispering how much she loves you, hits all of the spots that she knows feel good, and makes you come a lot but not too much so that you're not overstimulated and exhausted 🥺
aftercare consists of romcom movies, lots of forehead kisses, and cuddles! gaeul is small, yes but she insists on being the big spoon cuz it makes her feel like she's keeping you safe n protected, and that's really all she wants! 🥺
yujin knows alllll about love and care ofc! sure, most of the time, she's energetic and literally fucks you like she won't get to do it ever again but other times, she can be super gentle 🥺🥺 the pup showers you with praises while she's fingering you, says things like: "my baby's so pretty" and "doing so well for me, good girl" like she just wants to make you feel appreciated and special 😩 sometimes she fears that you think she's only with you for the sex, bcs the two of you do fuck a lot and it's very intense too but she wants you to know that she's with you bcs she loves you, so yeah she talks a lot during these times 😭 but her voice, her praises, and her kisses keep you from getting lost in pleasure bcs even when she's all soft and sentimental she still fucks you so good like holy shit this girl just knows you so well 🫠🫠
aftercare is yujinnie wrapping all of her limbs around you and keeping you close 😭😭 but ofc she's careful not to like, crush you or suffocate you sjdbfjosf she's threading your hair with her fingers, patting your back softly as a means to lull you to sleep.. she makes jokes too?? 😭 like maybe the two of you have gone silent but not asleep so she'll just say something funny and you'll burst out laughing,,, yujin loves your smile sm, she wants you to be happy foreverrrr 🥲
rei is always soft with you, she's a love maker dammit 😔 takes care of you like you're made of glass but that doesn't mean she's vanilla or anything . she knows how to fuck you, she just doesn't like to overwhelm you with it!! she's always asking if you're doing okay, if anything hurts, if you want her to stop or keep going . and tbh she's giving service top too, she's always aiming to make you feel good cuz ur her baby!! like, she also asks if you want her to go faster if it was what you wanted 🥺 and she warns you if she decides to fuck you harder.. saying it like: "it's going to hurt a little bit, baby... is that okay?" i cannot stress this enough SHE SO FUCKING CARESSS 😭😭😭😭 if you're feeling particularly needy on a certain day, you will literally have to assure rei several times that you won't complain if she just fucks you out of your mind bcs you want it, but she's so afraid of breaking you :((( but when you do give her the go... she can have you seeing the stars 😵‍💫
aftercare is reibear cuddling you from behind while holding hands 🥺 and she kisses your shoulder a lot, as well as the hand that's holding hers ☺️☺️ trust that the aftercare will last until the next morning sjfbfkf like rei's giving you breakfast in bed, combing your messy hair, and offering to help you in the bathroom SHE'S JUST.. SHE'S VERY GIRLFRIEND OKAY 🥹💔
wonyoung is very sub top to me, shes baby 🥺🥺 like she can fuck! she can fuck real good, but she's so in love with you that she just... she folds no matter what 😩 holding both of your hands while she's fucking you with a strap, leaning down and kissing you, and she talks a lot too!! always asking for permission and like, approval ... "does it feel good, unnie?", "am i doing good, unnie?", "are you gonna come yet, unnie? yes?", "can i go faster, please? i want to hear you" omggg kfkjnfdjdsjdfj 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 baby definitely comes with you because seeing you fall apart and hearing the noises she brought out of you is really enough for her 🫠 but she keeps going . she continues on fucking you bcs she so wants to satisfy you, and in a way, she's satisfying herself too bcs if you're feeling great, she'll feel amazing 😩🫣
aftercare is just,, being held close to wony's heart 🥺 she has you laying on top of her, your head resting on her chest, falling asleep to her heartbeat and the random shapes she traces on your back with her fingers... says 'i love you' even when you're sleeping, kissing the top of your head, and getting lost in her head thinking about how much she really appreciates and loves you like my girl is LOVESICKKKK GET UP!!! 😩
unpopular opinion but liz is just as eager as a certain puppy when fucking you i will not be told otherwise!! she just loves feeling your warm cunt around her fingers and even better on her tongue!!! but lizzy understands that sometimes you get tired and just want to go about things slower... and she gets soooo emotional???? like she's fucking you and suddenly, she has a whole speech about how beautiful you are to her and it's just :((( SHE LOVES YOU OKAY . SHE WANTS YOU TO FEEL PRETTY BCS UR HER PRETTY GIRL!! <///3 liz loves to spoil you with compliments, she really does 😔 she tells you that every single part of you is so ethereal to her :( from your eyes, to your nose, your lips, every little scar, and even the parts of you that you think aren't worth acknowledging or complimenting but they are to liz bcs you're genuinely so perfect in her eyes 🥲🥲💓
aftercare is lizzy humming a lullaby to help you fall asleep 😩😩 she likes staring at you too, but ofc not in a creepy edward cullen way but in an oh-my-god-she's-so-down-bad way she needs help getting up too‼️‼️
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thesupremeuziplushy · 1 year ago
Note
Could you do doll with a worker drone reader that voice often glitches like spamtons voice
Doll x WD!Reader with a glitchy voice
I like this one a lot! But I won't actually add stutter or glitchy effects into the text to make it a bit easier to read for dyslexic people. Also, I will use google translate for the Russian sentences and they will 100% not be correct!
Doll doesn't talk a whole lot, that one is for sure.
She prefers listening to other people talking and a weird habit of hers is to pay attention to how their voices sound like
Do they have accents? In what pitch do they talk? What feeling do their voices give, something calming, something exciting?
She appreciates the unique voices the most. People speaking in different languages or accents, dynamic voices that adapt easily to the mood, etc.
And then there's your voice, the most special of them all
You survived an unfortunate incident against the murder drones but not without scratches.
You'd often stutter, getting stuck on words that were once easy to say.
Your voice also had a gritty and glitchy texture which sounded far from pleasant.
The other workers try not to exclude you. They always try to involve you in their activities because they know it's not your fault your voice is like that.
And yet, they often can't listen to it for long, always cutting conversations short.
It hurt. A lot. People began to talk to you less and less until literally, nobody talked to you. Only a select amount of people felt enough pity for you to try.
Doll wasn't aware of any of that. She always thought you never talked because you were, like her, a listener. And thus, she never approached you for a conversation.
You walked around with a huge of paper stacked on top of each other, covering your vision. Cursing at yourself, you regret offering help to the teacher to carry all the worksheets into the faculty room. But then again, he's the only one that hasn't treated you any differently from the rest. No judgment but also no pity.
Doll's gaze was set on her friend Lizzy as she waved goodbye, not noticing you approach her. You bump into each other, sheets falling everywhere on the ground as you flail around, trying to gather each and every one of them.
"I'm sorry, I didn't pay attention..." You say quickly, avoiding Doll's gaze. She stared in awe, mouth hanging open before snapping back to reality, helping you.
"Все нормально. Я не был осторожен." (Everything is fine. I wasn't careful) Now it was your turn to open your mouth in awe. You never heard any worker drone speak any language other than English. Sure, some came with silly accents but they all stuck to the same language.
"You speak Russian?" You ask, perking up. She looks up at you, handing you the last worksheets, and smiles, nodding her head.
"Ваш голос в уникальном" (Your voice is unique). Your smile falters a little, thinking she's about to say something negative or pitiful afterward. But nothing came. Just her gentle smile and a curious glint in her eyes. "Меня зовут Кукла. Как тебя зовут?" (My name is Doll. What is your name?)
"O-Oh?" She's asking you a question? "My name is..."
Doll somehow always managed to find something to talk about around you. And to your surprise, she never interrupted you nor tried to find an excuse to leave. Quiet the opposite actually, she refused to leave you alone.
While creepy to some to you it felt euphoric. You rambled on and on about your favorite topics, hobbies, and interests and Doll would sometimes share some of her own.
You'd get to know each other a lot in a short period of time. Even though Doll doesn't talk as much you could always tell she was listening intensely to what you said.
It didn't take long for you to start dating. Being this obsessed with each other surely wasn't a normal friendship!
Doll recalls how her mother Yeva described love.
It's like an addicting feeling. Something you always want more of and yet feel empty without. It hypnotizes you and you feel like you can see all the colors brighter and happier than they are even if it blinds you. It's the wind that blows the clouds away and the lullaby's to calm you to sleep.
And in Doll's case, she can't get enough of your voice.
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suckerforcate · 10 months ago
Text
Left Behind
Pairing: Moiraine Sedai/Reader
Word Count: 2020
Warning: implied sexual activity
Summary: Moiraine left for the Dragon Reborn without saying goodbye or an explanation. Three years later she's back in the Tower.
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A/n: I know it's been a long time since I've posted, but a lot happened. In Uni and my personal life, so I didn't have too much time. I'm sorry. I hope you like it. Request: @lovequinnin (I hope its kind of like you wanted it <3)
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You rounded a corner in the Tower and suddenly stood right in front of Lan. For a dreadful second you just stared at him before slowly walking backwards around the corner and fleeing.
If Lan was here, Moiraine wasn't far.
Everything inside of you screamed to go to her. To ask how she'd been, hug her, kiss her. But she had hurt you once, and you didn't want her to do it again. Even after three years, it still hurt. Every day. Every moment. You wouldn't be able to live through that a second time. It would break you, completely and irrevocably. So you just kept your distance.
Which was harder than it sounded. The Tower was big, but not that big. And being a part of the brown Ajah, sitting in the library all day definitely didn't help, when Moiraine needed something from the Library every day.
The first day it was inconvenient, but it wasn't unusual. Everyone needed to go to the library sometimes. The encounter was awkward but bearable. She left as fast as she had come. You barely looked at her, politely but coldly giving her the book she needed. Politely but coldly asking if she needed anything else. And politely but coldly saying goodbye, turning around and going back to work.
The second day it was simply annoying. You dreaded seeing her more often just because she needed a book. You didn't really look up, but just the way she walked, her voice, her presence was enough to make your heart ache.
The fifth day you started to get suspicious. She had come every day for the past five days and everyday it seemed as if she needed a different book. All on topics, that weren't related in any way. It was unusual for Moiraine, she was organised, structured. It didn't fit her way of working.
On the morning of the seventh day you decided to talk to her about it. It was absolutely silly. This game made you go crazy. It was like she wanted to see you hurt. But on this day, for the first time in a week, she didn't come.
Not in the morning, not in the afternoon and not in the evening. It was already dark outside when you left the library, you had stretched your work, secretly hoping she would still come. But she hadn't, and that nearly hurt more than seeing her.
You strolled through the tower absent-mindedly, thinking about Moiraine. You were fighting with yourself. Your heart longed to see her, your brain screamed at you to stay away. To protect yourself, protect your heart.
Apparently the wheel decided to make that decision for you.
As you strolled down the corridor, on your way back to your room, you bumped into someone. You looked up and started an apology, that immediately got stuck in your throat as you saw the face of the person you had run into. It was Moiraine. Of course it was, who else would it be?
You stuttered out a few words, more like sounds, before taking a step back, as you suddenly realised how close you were. You pulled yourself together and straightened up a bit. You dared to look at her, but avoided her eyes. You knew that her eyes would always break you.
"Moiraine." You simply said, voice steady even though you felt your hands tremble slightly.
You saw the corners of her lips rise slightly, her eyes searching for yours.
"(Y/n)." She said softly. You could hear a hint of hope in her voice, a hint of...longing?
"Can I help you?" Your voice was icier than you had intended, but you couldn't pull back anymore. Her smile faded and her shoulders sank just a little bit. Gently she sighed.
"Please, can we talk?" She asked you, voice steady as always. Like it didn’t mean anything to her, at all. You stared at her, speechless. Her voice was steady, so steady she had nearly fooled you. But, just nearly. You sensed how desperate, how helpless she was. Even though she had no right to be. She had no right to be hurt, when she had been the one who had hurt you.
Your mouth opened and closed, your eyes widened a little. You couldn't find the words. So you grabed her arm and pulled her a few metres down the corridor, opened the door of your room and pulled her inside. Thinking about it now, she had probably went to your room earlier, hadn't found you and had just been leaving when you had bumped into her.
"You want to talk? Ok, let's talk." You said, voice filled with rage. Rage that you desperately hoped would hide your pain, would shove your tears down. It was a thin line between rage and hurt.
"(Y/n)..." She started but you harshly cut her off.
"No, you have no right to talk right now. Even coming to the library every single day is just outrageous. You just left. Three years ago, you left. You were just gone one day and never said a word. No letter, no message, no explanation." The words burst out of you, they'd been hidden inside of you for so long. All the hurt, the confusion and the anger just spilled out of you.
You could see the surprise on Moiraine's face, she steped back a little and tried to say something, but you just rambled on. Giving her no room for answers and explanations.
"You left me behind, like all those times together meant nothing to you. Like I meant nothing to you." You abruptly stopped talking as you saw Moiraine's eyes getting wet, her cheeks redden slightly, and her whole body slightly collapsed in on itself.
You wanted to go on, wanted to shout at her, wanted to make her feel everything she had made you feel. But your stupid heart betrayed you, it still beat for her. No words left your mouth. You simply stood there, like you were petrified. After a second you moved again, took a few steps back and sank into a chair.
You rest your head on your hands and looked down, trying hard to keep the tears down. In vain. Just a few slipped out and rolled down your cheeks, but you didn't let Moiraine see them.
You heard her getting closer, slowly, carefully. She stopped, and sighed. As she started to talk, her voice was soft like honey and strong. But it was wavering a bit, just a tiny bit. But you noticed. You'd always notice.
"I'm sorry. I had to leave, it was for your own safety. I couldn't say anything, the Amyrlin Seat forbid me to-..." you cut her off again, though not nearly as harshly as before.
"Since when do you listen to the Amyrlin Seat?" It sounded bitter, but teary.
"Since it meant protecting you." She said. It's raw, full of emotion. Different to what she usually sounds like, and it made you look up. As if to check, if it's still Moiraine who's talking. But it was.
You sighed, the exhaustion of the day and the tears stronger than your rage. For the first time in three years you thought, that maybe she really hadn't meant to hurt you. That maybe she never stopped loving you.
Your voice is quiet, thin as you speak. It's wavering and doesn't sound like your voice. Even to you, it's foreign. You looked down again, not having enough strength to look at her while talking.
"I didn't need your protection. I needed your love. When you left, you took a part of me with you. A part of me I never got back." Your eyes were glued to the floor and a tear falls to the ground. You felt her before you saw her.
She had kneeled down in front of you and gently grabbed your chin between her fingers to lift your head. You tried to turn away, to not lock eyes with her, but her grip was strong. It held you in place, it forced you to look at her.
You saw hurt, pain, regret but most importantly love. Love, like you hadn't seen in three years. Her hand wandered to your cheek and cupped it, softly stroking your skin, wiping a few tears away.
"(Y/n)" she quietly breathed your name. Her name on your lips had always sounded like a promise. Until she broke that promise.
"I'm so sorry for the way I hurt you. It's never what I wanted. Lan had said I shouldn't...but I couldn't risk it. Couldn't risk your safety." The words sounded sincere, like the truth. It sounded, which almost hurt the most, a lot like something Moiraine would do. She had always estimated the value of love far too low. Even if it was her own love, maybe especially when it was her own love.
"Don't you think that should have been my decision?" You asked sadly, smiling bitterly, nearly accusing. She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, there was determination in them, strength.
"I knew that you would have wanted to come with us. But that wasn't possibly, I couldn't have forgiven myself if... If you'd been hurt." You tilted your head to the side a little, like a curious puppy. Didn't she know? That you would have died for her. You blinked a few times, trying to find fitting words.
"I would have," you replied softly, "I love you."
The tense surprised you both. Of course, you knew that you still loved her, you just hadn't meant to admit that. But she looked at you like she had expected you to hate her. To never feel anything good for her again. Didn't she know? That you'd always love her.
No one dared to say anything, as if it would break the spell. As if it would catapult you back to reality, like this was a dream. You felt her hand still on your cheek, warm and tingling. She doesn't acknowledge it, but she doesn't move it away either.
"Still?" She asked with a thin voice, not much louder than a whisper. Didn't she know?
"Of course. Nothing you could do would ever make me stop loving you."  You saw a tear slowly roll down her cheek. She sucked it up and looked away, fighting against the tears. She slightly shook her head in denial.
"I do. I'll always love you, Moiraine." You gently directed her face back to look at you and dry her tear. Your thumb softly stroked over her lips and slightly parted them. Moiraine's eyes closed and she breathed in shakily.
Slowly, carefully you leaned forward and captured her lips in a kiss. It's a soft kiss, short and careful. It's a question. And Moiraine answerd.
She pressed against your lips, more desperately than you, it nearly felt guilty. Like she wanted to apologise, make up for lost time. Show you, that she cared. That she loved and longed.
You're a little startled by her kiss, but soon you pulled her closer, held her and forgave her. You started taking of her clothes, stood up and draged her to the bed. It was messy, hastily and chaotic. But it was all you needed. Her. By your side.
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"I'll come with you." You breathed out quietly against her hair. You were intertwined, under the sheets, arm in arm.
"No, you don't even know where I'm going or what I'm doing." She protested, her voice almost sounded desperate. Desperate to protect you, to keep you safe.
"You won't leave me here again. I'm coming with you." Your voice is steady, calm. You knew you would win the argument, you usually did.
"It's dangerous."
"I don't care. If you'd asked, I would have come with you three years ago." The blunt truth hung in the air. She hadn't left you a choice back then, she had decided for you. You wouldn't let her do that again, and she knew it.
"I'm sorry. We lost so much time together." She whispered softly, and you pulled her closer into your embrace. You placed a soft kiss on her head.
"We'll make up for it."
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