#anyway i wanted to try forgiving him this time but at what cost

[fiannans]

RIP to Illario's freedom I guess, but I vastly prefer Lucanis' Crow's Tenacity armour to his Crow's Poise version. Sorry Illario.

[aphroditelovesu]

hey its my first time requesting...

maybe can I request yandere Daemon Targaryen with velaryon or hightower reader

❝ 🐉 — lady l: this is actually quite cute lol. A soft yandere, but Daemon is only soft to the Reader, the rest be burned alive, in his view. Anyway, I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! 💚🖤

❝tw: mention of death, obsessive behavior, family conflicts, fluff and soft!yandere basically.

❝🐉pairing: yandere!daemon targaryen x hightower!female!reader.

Daemon doesn't like the people in your family, the damn Hightower's. He hates them all, especially Otto, your father. He has always made this very clear, never trying to hide the disdain he feels for your family. Daemon just didn't expect to fall in love with a Hightower.

Daemon paid you no attention at first. He thought you were like your father and siblings and he wanted distance from you all. He even tried to fight the feelings that came over him when he saw you, but it soon became useless.

Daemon's constant presence, initially cold and distant, changed around you. His furtive glances became more frequent, his words, once sharp, began to soften. He could no longer ignore the truth that was right in front of his eyes: you were different. Different from Otto, different from your sibilings. And despite all the hatred he felt for the Hightowers, he found himself wanting to be in their presence more and more.

Every time he met you, he felt a growing internal conflict: the deep-rooted hatred towards your family and the irresistible attraction he felt for you. Daemon found himself wanting you, wanting you and not just in a sexual way. He wanted to have you.

Finally, Daemon had to accept that, against all expectations and against his own will, he had fallen in love with you, had become obsessed with you and he was going to have you no matter what. Daemon knew that Otto would never consent to you and him being together but Daemon doesn't give a fuck about your father.

Daemon began to plan. He was not a man who let something so trivial decide what he could or couldn't have. If Otto Hightower was an obstacle, then he would be removed. It didn't matter the cost. Daemon used his cunning and influence to create opportunities for furtive encounters. Every touch, every word whispered in the silence of the night only strengthened his resolve. You also couldn't help but be drawn to his intensity, the danger he represented, and the promise of a passion that burned hotter than anything you had ever known.

You were conflicted as well. Daemon Targaryen was a man you were warned to stay away from, your father and your sister, now the Queen, had told you to stay away from the King's troublesome brother. But you couldn't. Daemon was kind to you, he liked you and you knew you liked him. Maybe you even loved him but you knew your father and sister would never allow it.

The nights became secret meetings, increasingly daring and passionate. Daemon was determined to make sure his love for you wasn't discovered until he wanted it to be revealed, for now, it was fun to be with you in secret. He knew that when the moment came, he would need to be prepared to protect you and the future he envisioned with you. And he would protect you with everything in him.

Every furtive encounter, every whispered conversation in the darkness, every touch that set your body on fire, only increased your dilemma. On the one hand, there was your loyalty to your family, your need to live up to their expectations, and your fear of repercussions. On the other, there was Daemon, with his magnetic presence, his bold words and his protective manner, which made your heart race in a way you had never experienced before.

You tried to keep your distance, and obey your family's warnings, but you always ended up returning to Daemon. He was irresistible, and the way he looked at you, with a mixture of desire and tenderness, made you feel special, seen, and loved. Daemon understood you in a way no one else could, and that was both a blessing and a curse.

Daemon wouldn't let you get away. He didn't care, he wanted you and that's why he went to his brother and asked him for you. Daemon knew that Viserys would agree to the request, after all, he owed him that. Viserys, although distressed at the thought of causing conflict with Alicent and Otto, gave in to his brother's wishes and you were formally granted to you as his wife (after the latter's mysterious death). And you finally officially became his in every way that mattered.

When you finally married him, Daemon became more protective than ever and he displayed you in front of his family like a trophy. He loved you but he loved teasing Otto and Alicent even more. When the conflict between the Greens and the Blacks began, Daemon would keep you tied to him tightly.

After all, you're just another reminder of why he should get rid of all the Greens. Especially because, when you became pregnant in the middle of the conflict, Daemon could not allow any threat to you or the baby in your womb.

[cumbunnywitch]

I've seen at least one, but posts saying not to blame the people who didn't vote for Harris because whatever are fully in the wrong and they always will be.

You chose moral high grounding and purity culture over the possibility that our protests would work. You chose "she leaned too right in her campaign" over "Trump and the people who want to puppeteer him are going to get a lot of people killed." You chose the democrats being idiots over the republicans want a racist rapist.

You didn't choose? No, you had a choice. You used yours. If you chose not to vote because you wanted to use your non-vote as a voice to show the democrats that they have to win your vote, you're still going to get your face eaten by the leopards. They aren't going to hear you anyway.

Protests work on the left side of our shit-ass two party system because they at least pretend to care.

Here's just, off the top of my head, the things you decided were less important than telling the democratic party "No you have to be good enough":

Student Loan Forgiveness or Relief

Healthcare

Trans Rights

LGBTQIA Safety

Abortion rights

Palestine/Gaza

Ukraine

Industry Regulation(notice all those recalls on food lately?)

Cost of Living

Police Reform

Taxes

There's no such thing as a single-issue voter, not anymore. The right is diametrically opposed to making any of the above better for anyone, whether or not they voted for that shitstain, unless you're very rich, and very white, and a very straight man.

Honestly, if you voted for Jill Stein, at least you fucking voted. Her numbers won her absolutely nothing but at least you voted.

But no. "Don't vote for Harris because she's not good enough! She's running a campaign to secure moderate republicans!" Yea no fucking shit. That's what they've been doing for the last forever. Yea, it still sucks. But most moderate liberals who actually vote still struggle with that list up there. There's literally a democrat trans woman who just got voted in who wants to support Israel's genocidal campaign of murdering every Palestinian.

And you know what? If she sees that line, she might actually stop and think and move a little bit over to my perspective. Every conservative sees that line and immediately thinks "Yea kill the fuckin' brown people!" because they don't consider them fucking people.

If you didn't vote because you saw people saying Harris wasn't leftist enough, not liberal enough, she was a former prosecutor or the democrats haven't done enough for you in the last 4 years, you fell for the Russian psyop. You fell for the propaganda.

Does it suck that Harris wanted to court the swing states and their moderately conservative voting base over to vote for the first woman president? Yea, it's been a shitty idea for decades and they've been doing it for as long as I've been voting. Obama was the center-ist centerist ever, and he still got healthcare reform passed. He also drone striked a lot of people and gave banks billions of dollars when the financial sector faceplanted after trying to balance on a pin for the longest time.

I was gonna add a read-more or chop this up better but no. You get to read the whole thing. If you didn't vote, or you voted for trump, I want you gone. Unfollow me, block me, because you clearly either don't care enough to prevent our slide into authoritarianism and a fixed court for the next 60 years, or you actively hate me.

[cyberrose2001]

Can we pretty please have some angsty fluff?

Maybe Optimus Prime from TFP returning to Earth because he missed his s/o. (Let's pretend RID never existed. Please.) Maybe he left on a bad note and they told him that they'd never forgive him. And once he's back, she's completely ignoring him and she's trying her best to avoid him at all costs

You can choose what to do in the end. I want to see your mind wander :DD

Unforgiven Goodbyes

TFP Optimus x human! gn! reader

whoops

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injury/blood, mental struggles, just straight-up angst.

Word count: 2,475

You're pissed off. No, you're more than pissed off. A tangle of emotions that would take a lifetime to detangle in your mind. You are pissed off, heartbroken, angry, yet excruciatingly relieved to see him.

But you can't bring yourself to face him again. That beautiful, other-worldly sculpted face seems to torment you whenever you close your eyes. That moment when he looked back at you before he plunged himself into the Well of Allsparks, the look of apologetic heroicness. It burned into your brain and left a nasty scab that you can't help but pick at. But the scar has healed. You've disciplined yourself to stop scratching it, but watching him walk through the hangar doors ripped it open once again.

You've distracted yourself as much as you can. Doing pointless chores around the new base the bots have made themselves at home with, going for long walks outside by yourself, hiding around every corner when you hear that rumbling voice. You tried everything to keep the wound closed, to pretend that he's still dead, to justify all the mourning you've gone through all these years.

Another reason not to face him was how you reacted when he told you his plan. You were the first to know, and you've never felt your heart sink so fast. It was like he had struck a dagger to your stomach and kissed you as you were bleeding out. You had exploded with anger you couldn't control and stormed out before he could do anything about it. You screamed at him as he collapsed onto his knees that you would never forgive him, and so far, you've kept that promise. The next time you saw him was before he made his great sacrifice, and you had nothing else to say to him. You couldn't say anything else.

And you won't for a long time, not when you have headphones on to block out the world. You stand at the sink in the human kitchen. It's semi-exposed to the main base, with a half-wall shielding the stove and sink. You're not sure why it's exposed; it must be concerning the lack of rooms in this old military bunker. You don't care anyway. You only care about scrubbing the dishes beyond clean and slamming them onto the drying rack before you break the delicate ceramic plates from gripping them too hard.

While cleaning the dishes, you don't realise how much of a racket you're making with your music blasting and capture the attention of the one bot you were trying to avoid.

Optimus.

He looks at you curiously, a hint of longing in his optics. Optimus knows you're avoiding him, and it's so blatantly obvious that everyone notices, too, creating tension through the base you could cut with a sharp enough knife. He wants to talk to you. He needs to talk to you. And so far, this is the only opportunity he's stumbled upon that could make it possible. Though, he doesn't want to frighten you and scare you away. He needs to be gentle and cautious in his actions, but it's difficult when you can't hear or see him.

Optimus reaches out, his servo twitching at how gentle he's trying to be. He touches your shoulder with a single digit but retracts his servo quickly when you jump out of your skin and drop a plate on the floor, shattering the ceramic in all different directions.

You scream then seethe, ripping your headphones off to face whoever dares to lay a finger on you, "Why the fuck would you-"

Frozen in your tracks, you stare at Optimus, the longest you've looked at him in a long time. Your heart snaps in two again, and the wound in your mind festers with flashbacks before you try to make a run for it. You don't get far, though, before you step on a piece of broken ceramic and cry out in pain.

"Ah!" You fall back on the ground, clutching your lower leg, "Fuck it-"

"Y/n, I am so sorr-"

"N-No!" You practically spit in his face. You let go of your leg and scramble backwards into a corner. With nowhere else to go, you turn to face him again and watch how his grip tightens on the railing before him. If looks could kill, Optimus would still be dead. Maybe you secretly hoped it was possible, "Get away from me."

"Please, you're hurt," Optimus looks down at your bare foot, now bleeding heavily onto the floor from a deep gash.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, not giving a damn that you're bleeding. You've been through worse, after all, "Oh, so now you care?"

Optimus tilts his helm, "What? I have always cared-"

"Oh really? You're really going to do this, Optimus?" You growl, grabbing the bench above you to pull yourself up, "You didn't seem to care about me when you sacrificed yourself! No, scratch that," You point a bloody finger at him, "When you fucking abandoned me!"

Optimus's shoulders sink, his grip on the railing relaxing as he feels like you've plunged a knife into him, "I did not-" He sighs heavily, like he cannot find the words, "Please... let us get you to Ratchet."

"I don't need his or- or your help," You hobble on one foot, hissing in pain as you make your way to anywhere else on the planet. The blood smears on the floor with every misguided step as you pass by him with a cold shoulder, "I've managed just fine on my own, Prime." You sneer at him.

Optimus watches you hop down the stairs, and he slumps his frame down on the railing. His vocaliser rumbles with regret and pain at how you're treating him. And it's not like he can blame you. Optimus would probably be stricken with the same grief if a lover of his decided to sacrifice themselves; he'd be absolutely distraught. And all that distraught just for them to return like it was a mere week-long vacation? Well, he wasn't sure what he'd do. He thought you would be overjoyed and run up to him with that beautiful smile on your lips, perhaps even beg for one of those joyrides he always loved taking you on through the desert. He thought you would've missed him, the bare minimum for someone who has lost a loved one.

Optimus sighs and lifts his helm from the railing before turning on his pedes to look for something else to distract him from you. He looks down before he takes a step and sees your trail of smeared blood on the concrete. His optic ridges furrow, a look of determination and apprehension as he steps to follow your crimson breadcrumbs out of the hangar doors.

Before he reaches the hangar doors, a soft touch plants itself on his shoulder, and he jolts slightly. Optimus turns his helm down to see a gloomy look on Ratchet's face, his servo squeezing his shoulder comfortingly.

"Let them go, Optimus," He speaks softly, "They need some space."

Space is the only thing he's given them so far.

-

"Stupid fucking dishes. Stupid me. Stupid him."

Your fingers tremble as you rip some of your shirt off to wrap around the gash in your foot. The minor hit of adrenaline quickly left you like a hit of nic as soon as you slumped down on the other side of the hangar outside. The dull throbbing turns into sharp pain as you tighten the fabric, causing a small whimper to leave your throat. You relax your head against the concrete wall behind you, wishing you could slam it against it instead. But anger slowly drains from your frame, and you bury your face into your dirty hands, and you sob—a heartbreaking sight to anyone that were to stumble upon you.

But you find that the tears weren't mourning from him, but for yourself.

How selfish are you? Are you so dense in the head that you're blindsighted to how much he loves you? How much Optimus missed you that even after facing the hereafter, he came back for you? How awful must the afterlife be for him to want to come back to you, of all people? These questions come flooding into your mind with every tear-jerking sob that wracks your body. But the one question at the forefront of your mind terrifies you, making you want to slump further into the self-deprecating aura you've swallowed yourself in.

Do you still love him?

You bite your lip hard. Do you still love him? That's a stupid question to ask yourself. Of course you still love him. You wouldn't be the person you are today if you never did.

Then why the fuck do you push him away?

You don't know. Maybe it was how you spoke to him before he took his own spark, being so ashamed of yourself that you could barely look at him. Or perhaps you've become too comfortable in your new adjustment to life without him, and for that to all come crumbling down so suddenly with no warning has shaken you to your core.

That's very selfish of you.

You know that. You've always known that.

Maybe you just weren't ready to let go.

A deep, trembling breath leaves your parted lips.

...

Yeah, you know.

-

Optimus stealthily follows the trail once again after Ratchet leaves. He just can't walk away after that encounter. And as much as it hurts him to see your reaction, he must ensure you're okay despite whatever you spit in his face. Optimus did not beg at the throne of Primus himself for another chance at nothing. He needs to make amends, no matter how much of a fight you put up at your wishes to be left alone.

Soft steps of his pedes lead him on a wild goose chase. It seemed as if you had stumbled around in circles for quite some time, the trail of blood looping around before overlapping itself to follow the edge of the hangar. Optimus become increasingly concerned about your welfare, worried you have lost too much blood. But he knows that you are tough if all these years on your own have anything to show for it.

His pace replaces stealth for hastiness as he continues on the trail, rounding the next corner of the hanger. He stops in his tracks when he sees you, and his eyes soften with pure broken-heartness. His servos clenching in regret.

He carefully approaches your slumped frame and stands before you. He first notices your foot, half bandaged and leaking slightly. You weren't wrong after all. You could take care of yourself. He smiles softly to himself at this.

Optimus carefully kneels in front of you, still a fair distance away. All he wants to do is pick you up and tell you that everything is alright, that he's here and not ready to leave again anytime soon.

He keeps his servos to himself for now.

"Y/n," Optimus begins softly, "I know you are upset," This seems like an all too familiar conversation, "And you have every right to be."

No reaction from you so far, a few sobs and hiccups. His spark clenches.

"I did not get a chance to tell you how truly thankful I am for you," Optimus continues, fidgeting with a digit in his lap, "How I still reminisce on our long-forgotten time together, even whilst I was merged with the All Spark."

Optimus takes a chance. He shuffles closer to you and gently pries your hands from your face like you were a pretty piece of wrapping paper he wanted to keep. His optics drag over your sodden face, how your eyes begin to focus on his. It wasn't the fiery look of anger he had seen just earlier but one that looked of surrender; you had given up a fight he wished he could've helped you with.

Optimus moves one servo from your hands to gently caress your face, a gentle digit brushing over your cheeks, "My, just look at you," He cups your chin softly, tilting your head to look up at him, "You are still as beautiful as ever."

He watches as the tears well in your eyes again, a small glimmer in your eyes that's more familiar to him than the dull. You grip his servo and pull it into a hug, resting your forehead on his wrist, and you cry.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry...I-I'm stupid... I shouldn't have..." You sob, clutching onto him with every fibre of your being, "Oh god..."

Optimus's spark fizzles and cracks at your heart-breaking apology and the tears dripping onto his servo. He gives you a sombre look before carefully pulling you into his servos, picking you up to press you against his chassis to return his long-awaited affections.

"Shh," He hushes your cries, pressing a gentle kiss to your head as he rocks you softly like a slumbering sparkling, "It is alright; nothing you say could ever make me resent you."

You sniffle, burying your head into his chassis. His familiar scent of motor oil and fumes fills your senses and relaxes you deeper into him. You try to speak, to say anything other than hiccuping pathetically.

"I-" You stutter, ripping your face away from his chassis to stare up at him. A shaky hand reaches up to touch him, a tiny 'tink' as your fingernail grazes against his face plate. He's real, he's here, and he's not mad at you. And the best thing is, he forgives you.

And you forgive him.

"I missed you," You take a sharp breath, "I miss you so much."

Optimus' sombre frown turns into a small smile; a weight lifts off his frame at your admission. The worry he put himself through all seems to melt away as he presses a soft kiss to your lips, hoping to melt away your grief with the kiss along with his.

You gasp softly. Far too much time has passed since you've felt those gentle dermas meld into yours, and as much as the past you wanted to forget how his touches felt, you find yourself kissing him back with as much need and passion. A few fleeting moments pass before you're forced to part for a much-needed breath. It feels like life has returned to you, like after all this time without him you were holding your breath in fear of drowning.

Optimus closes his optics, softly pressing his forehead against yours, leaning into the warm touch of your hands that he oh so craved. He knows you still love him, he never once doubted that deep down inside you always did, even after he had regretfully abandoned you.

"I miss you too."

Finally. He felt good to say that.

[yantako]

Hello! Can i request yandere Malleus , Floyd and Kalim with an s/o who cant feel fear? (Its not that they are brave or anything its a real problem in their brain that they of course cannot fix)

Hi there! Thank you so much for the request!

I have definitely heard of this brain disorder before and honestly, it is really scary to think about it. Not sure if I'm doing it justice though, please forgive me if it doesn't sound like the condition! ><

Anyway, without further ado, let's begin!

Warning: Yandere and dubious elements.

Yandere with a S/O who can't feel fear

ft. Malleus, Floyd & Kalim

Malleus Draconia

• When you two first met, he was surprised that you smiled at him instead of being shocked or scared of him.

• However, because of such a reaction, he grows an interest in you for being so 'brave'.

• Everything would go well with his talks with you, getting to know you better and all, and slowly he started developing feelings for you.

• He'd always known you for being fearless about everything, even in the dangerous situations that you sometimes put yourself through from what he has heard from your stories.

• However, he started to feel curious about what your fearful face might look like and decided to play a small trick on you. Would maybe a giant dragon suffice in scaring you?

• When he saw your first reaction was lacking in fear, he'd try again with bigger and bigger moves. Malleus could feel his tiny smirk slowly distorting into a frown filled with worry and pain. It only became full-fledged anger at the point where it seems as if you didn't even care when the dragon was about to kill you [ of course, with you trapped with no room for escape ]. You didn't even seem remotely afraid as you tried to think of a way to combat this. However, when the situation is so bleak, you used your rational mind to think of the most painless way to go, and that is to tank the hardest hit in hopes of a one-shot KO.

• When you were about to be hit, Malleus immediately stopped the illusion and merely hugged you tightly. He had just wanted to see another side of you but ended up making himself feel like a disaster for putting you through that. He even had some thoughts if you would just give up your life so easily, why didn't you call him to help you?

• You felt pleasantly surprised that he was suddenly in front of you. Happy to see him, you gave him a smile, but also a knowing look when you realised what was going on just from his expression. It's about time you tell him about it.

• When he hears about your condition, his heart sunk.

• From then on, he has you kept by him the entire time. He had a mindset that if you can't feel fear, you won't know your dangers. It only made him more fearful for you.

• He becomes a lot more possessive over you and warier of the people around you, going so far as to cast spells on you without your knowledge.

• He becomes way more protective each time you get injured, on the basis that you cant feel fear even if you explained to him multiple times that you do know your dangers.

• He would do anything to keep you protected at all costs.

Floyd Leech

• Shrimpy! Aren't you scared of me?

• You just witness him punching a bloody student in a secluded area in school. Of course, you did stare for a while and wanted to leave as you presumed this to be troublesome and dangerous for you if you remained.

• However, this tall eel immediately noticed you and dropped the student he was holding. His eyes glinted as if he saw a brand-new toy being served up to him.

• He peered down at you threateningly after cornering you at a wall. However, even as he did that, you didn't show as big of a reaction as he wanted to see. Weren't you supposed to be squirming under him like a worm? Hey, why are you looking away when he's glaring at you!

• At first he thought it was very boring that you gave him such a lukewarm reaction, but when he figured that you were trying to find a way to escape calmly, his curiosity peaked again. He understood that normal people would be in a state of panic and give him their fullest attention in case he would hit them, however, he didn't feel any sense of fear from you but rather, a very cold way of ignoring him.

• With his interests piqued, he decided to let you go after attempting to scare you with his threats. He found it amazing that you showed no signs of fear in such a situation and decided to make his next days fun in school by harassing you.

• He continuously placed you in dangerous situations, even to the point of near-death situations, to simply observe and find entertainment. Well, that is until you actually got a near-death experience which scared the fuck outta him.

• Looking at your pale and weak figure lying in the infirmary, he thought about how much danger he had put you through. Regrets came washing over him. Initially, he thought it was fun and entertaining to watch your fearless gait. But now, he could hear alarms ringing in his head whenever he thinks you are in danger. In some magical and mysterious manner, somehow, he became smitten for you.

• Ever since then after you recovered, Floyd seemed to have a flipped his treatment of you. He would protect you fiercely from even the smallest threats, growling and even resorting to violence even at small teasings people do to you.

• He finally felt as if he had something he needed to do, something motivating him. He had to protect you even if he had to resort to violence and intimidation. He finally got a spark in his heart and he would do his all to protect this spark. Finally, something he could not get bored of. If you aren't scared by his actions, that means you allowed him to do so, right?

• Shrimpy ignited something in him, so you better accept it, okay?

Kalim Al Asim

• Hm? He doesn't understand it. What do you mean you can't feel fear?

• Even after explaining it to him, he still does not understand it.

• That is, until you were kidnapped because of him. When he found you all battered up but yet lighting up when you see him. He had questioned you all the essentials. Why didn't you scream? Why didn't you call for help? Why do you still look so... okay about this situation?

• You chuckled as you joke. "At least I wasn't killed or hit so badly."

• Kalim stared at you for awhile before getting reminded of what you had told him before.

• Ever since then, he decided to take your safety into his own hands, having bodyguards around you and even giving you your own aide so that you could be protected. He just wanted to keep you safe, so please allow this of him, alright?

• Privacy? Is that more important than your safety, darling?

[blackbirdi]

One-Sided pt. II

If you haven't read the first part already, the link to part 1 is here

I'm so sorry this took so long, guys, I was struggling with ideas. Anyways, enjoy :)

Brief Description: Sirius begins to notice how suddenly you're around him a lot less than usual. What could he have done to make you want to avoid him at all costs? And why does your avoidance hurt him this much?

Point of View: 3rd Person

Word Count: 2181

Character: Sirius Black x Reader

House: Gryffindor

Year: Sixth Year

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since Sirius has talked to Y/n last, and it's driving him up the wall. The only other time where he doesn't talk to her for that long is during the summer, but at least they owl back and forth non-stop, and now suddenly he hasn't heard her sweet voice in two damn weeks.

And it's not as though he hasn't tried to talk to her. Hell, he's been going out of his way to run into her just to ask what was up with her, but every time she sees him, she runs away. And now she's changed the time of her daily activities (going to the library to read/study, walk in the courtyard, visit Hagrid, etc.) – not that he knew the times she was going by heart before she changed them – so now he can't even run into her then.

Two weeks. Two damn weeks. And he's not going any longer without her.

It was Saturday and the Marauders were all hanging out in their dormitory, and Sirius was itching to find Y/n and beg ask her to forgive him for whatever he must have done to have her ignore him like this.

"Remus," Sirius calls, breaking the silence.

"Hm?" Remus hums, not even bothering to look up from the book he was reading, which only caused Sirius to grow more frustrated.

He closes his eyes before he snaps at Remus, taking a deep breath to calm himself. The only thing that does is cause his eyes to well up with tears. 

Godric, what was up with him? Was Y/n really causing him to get this upset?

When he speaks next, his voice breaks, which causes all the other Marauders to lift their heads and look at Sirius with concern.

"Why won't Y/n talk to me?"

The other three Marauders share a few glances at one another before looking back at Sirius. The pity in their eyes as they look at him causes Sirius to grow frustrated once again.

His eyes, which were previously filled with tears, harden as he wipes them away. His lips pull back into a thin line as he glares down at his own hands.

"She keeps avoiding me! I haven't said anything to her in weeks!" he cries angrily. "And even when I do say something to her, she just ignores me and runs off! Did I do something to make her mad at me?"

"I'm sure you didn't do anything, Padfoot," James tries to comfort him. "Maybe Y/n just needs space for a while."

"Space from what?" Sirius snaps. "What did I do that would've wanted her to space herself from me? And only me! I haven't seen her ignoring you three, or anyone else for that matter! What did I do!?"

“Pads –” Remus starts, but is quickly interrupted.

“Why do you care so much anyway?” James asks. “It’s just Y/n.”

Sirius, Remus, and Peter all shoot James a glare, all three of them knowing that was not the right thing to ask.

“Yeah, Y/n, my friend,” Sirius sneers. “I care because Y/n is one of my closest friends and now suddenly she’s ignoring me! Do you have any idea how much that hurts? Because it does, a lot.”

“We know, Padfoot,” Peter replies, trying to make his voice sound comforting, although to Sirius it sounded more like pity. “I think James was trying to ask why you’re so … no quiet over dramatic about it … but more upset than you normally would be about something like this.”

“Yeah,” James agrees. “That’s exactly what I was trying to ask, thank you, Pete.”

Sirius glares at the both of them, his teeth gritting together as he tries to hold back from snapping at the two of them.

Why was he upset? Really? One of his best friends just straight up ditched him! Of course he was fucking upset!

“How do you twats not understand that I am upset my friend has fucking abandoned me!” Sirius snarls, his voice wavering as he tries to control his anger.

The others share another, worried glance, which drives Sirius even more insane.

Of course, Remus, James, and Peter quickly caught on that Y/n was avoiding Sirius, and were even quicker to catch on why. It wasn’t that hard to see that Y/n had finally had enough of her silly little crush on Sirius and was trying to stomp it out by avoiding him. And of course, Moony, Prongs, and Wormtail knew that avoiding Sirius at all costs wasn’t going to get rid of Y/n’s feelings for Sirius. And of course, Lupin, Potter, and Pettigrew knew that Sirius’s own feelings towards Y/n were developing beyond friendship.

“I can talk to her if you want me to,” Remus offers.

The usual stormy grey of Sirius’s eyes had darkened considerably in anger, his eyes narrowing at Remus in a glare.

“You’ve done quite a lot of talking to her,” he hisses. “A lot more than I have in Merlin knows how long. Do you know how frustrating that is, Remus? To see that Y/n, who suddenly hates me, is still all buddy-buddy with the three of you? Do you know how shitty it makes me feel when I see her talking to you and then she immediately runs away whenever she sees me? Do you?”

“No,” Remus replies, his voice squeaky at the anger in Sirius’s tone.

"That's what I thought," Sirius snarls, standing up from his bed abruptly.

With quick strides Sirius finds himself at the dormitory door, the door opened an inch before Peter asks curiously, "Where are you going?"

"To fucking find her!" Sirius snaps, turning around and facing his friends. "I can't keep going like this, without her. I - I need her, okay? I need her because ... because I love her. I love her. Holy shit, I love Y/n. I'll be back guys, but I need to find Y/n, even if that means searching every nook and cranny of this godforsaken castle."

He's out the door in another split second, the door slamming closed behind him.

Silence settles over the other three as they share glances, confused evident on each of their faces.

"Well," Remus finally mutters, breaking the silence. "He handled that a lot better than Y/n did when she realized she was in love with Sirius."

–––––––––––

To Sirius's surprise it didn't take him that long to find her. She was sitting in the courtyard, leaning against the truck of a tree with a book on her lap.

Sirius was careful to approach her quietly, not wanting her to spot him and jump up and run away (like she had been doing for two weeks straight).

When Y/n finally looked up from her book, the first thing she saw was Sirius looming in front of her. Her eyes widened as they made eye contact, scrambling to pick up her book and getting to her feet.

"Y/n, wait," Sirius snaps, grabbing onto her wrist with a vice-like grip before she could run away. "Please, don't run again, please."

Y/n sighs, trying to tug her wrist out of Sirius’s grip before she turns and faces him for the first time since the Quidditch game. Her struggling ceases as she sees the pain behind Sirius’s eyes, the pain that she would’ve caused every single time she ignored him or ran away.

“Please, Y/n/n,” he begs in a whisper, pulling her closer to him. “Please, don’t leave me again. I miss you so much. And I am so, so sorry if I did something to hurt you, or did something that made you want to avoid me. I never meant to, I don’t think I have done anything, but if I did just say the word and I will hold myself responsible for it and I will do anything I can to get back in your good graces because I miss you. So, so much. I hate that I haven’t seen you in two weeks, I hate that I haven’t talked to you in two weeks, I hate that I haven’t heard your voice in two weeks, and I hate that you’ve been avoiding me. I’m not blaming you because obviously it must have been something I did, but please Y/n, please, please, please stop avoiding me. I miss you.”

A wave of guilt washes over Y/n as she listens to Sirius, watching tears well in his eyes as it gets increasingly harder for him to talk without choking on his words. However, she can't help the little flutter her heart gives at his words.

Sirius takes a breath, trying to collect himself as he finally says everything he was feeling.

"And-and I hate how much it hurts that you've been doing this. I shouldn't care, I really shouldn't, but I do. I care so goddamn much, Y/n. It's been two weeks, two fucking weeks! I shouldn't be this effected, but I am. I've missed you more in two weeks more than I've missed anything else in my life, more than I miss the Marauders during the holidays, more than I miss Hogwarts during the summer, more than I miss the heat of the summer during the winter, more than I miss the sun in a rainstorm. I missed you, Y/n, and it's only been two weeks. So please, please, please, please, tell me what I did wrong so I can right it and we can go back to how we were before whatever I did."

A pause, a heartbeat before Sirius adds in a trembling voice, "Please."

Y/n takes a shaky breath, trying to stop the heat from rising in her cheeks and giving her away.

"Sirius," she says slowly.

"Please," he interrupts her, his voice breaking. "Please, Y/n. I don't know what I did, but whatever it must have been, I am so sorry. Please, please, please forgive me."

"Sirius," Y/n repeats, "you didn't do anything. I just... I realized something and I shut myself away from you. If anything, I should be saying sorry to you. I never meant to hurt you like this."

Sirius stares at her, confusion bubbling up within him as he listens to her explain.

"I-I don't understand," he admits in a quiet voice. Her stares up at her helplessly. "Why would you avoid me like you have if I didn't do anything? You haven't avoided the others, just me."

Y/n sighs, her heart thudding in her chest as she looks away from Sirius and finally admits in a small voice, "I'm in love with you."

The world stops, for the both of them.

Y/n can't breathe, why would she admit that!? Everything, everything, has been ruined. She ruined their friendship! Why would she do that!?

Sirius can't breathe, did she mean it!? Everything, everything, is going to change, for the better. She felt the same! But why did she avoid him if she loved him?

After what felt like hours of silence, Sirius responds, "I love you, too."

Sirius's heart pounds against his ribcage. Even though she said it first, it's still so hard to admit it.

Y/n's heart pounds against her ribcage. There is no way in hell that he actually feels the same.

"I – w-what?” she stutters, mouth dry.

“I love you too,” Sirius repeats, dropping her wrist. His hands come up to cup her jaw, holding her face in his hands as he smiles down at her. “I-I was thinking about how much I missed you, everything about you – not just your presence – and I guess that led me to realize that I would never feel this way about someone I thought of as my friend. Y/n/n, I realized that I’m in love with you.”

Y/n mirrors Sirius’s smile, relief flooding through her body as her cheeks flush with pink.

“I-I’m glad,” she whispers. “I was scared that you didn’t feel the same; that’s why I started avoiding you. I thought that if I was around you less my feelings would go away, which obviously didn’t work. But I was scared to say something in case I made things awkward between us.”

Sirius chuckles, pressing his forehead against hers, asking in a soft voice, “How could I not be in love with you? You, Y/n L/n, are the most kind, thoughtful, caring, smart, funny, beautiful woman in the whole world; I don’t know how I didn’t realize my feelings for you sooner. I love you.”

“I love you too, Sirius,” Y/n murmurs back. She closes her eyes, relishing in the feeling of Sirius being this close to her.

A comfortable silence fell over the two as they soak in each other’s presence, two hearts beating as one.

Two minutes. It has been two minutes since Sirius has admitted his feelings for Y/n, and it’s making him feel like he’s on top of the world.

Taglist: @littleshadow17 (who asked for a part 2 a month ago. I hope it was up to your standards lol). And @rosieandthethorns (who didn't asked to be tagged but I figured I should let you know so you can stop foaming at the mouth and writhing on the floor lmao)

[oldfashioned-lovergirl]

❃ FLUFFCEMBER 2024 ❃

day 09: fire and ice — kimi räikkönen x reader

note: au where your friend kimi wins the championship in mclaren and you’re in ferrari. sorry i’m being late, i’m doing exams

fluffcember masterlist | main masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“What the hell were you thinking?” Kimi’s accent was heavy when he shouted those words in your face. He took off his helmet. His pale hair was messy and his expression severe.

“Me? What the hell were you thinking?” You took off your gloves and threw them away in anger. “You crashed onto me!”

“You pushed me off the track, what was I supposed to do?”

You looked away, eyes about to fill with tears. “I thought we were friends.” You mumbled, then turned around and walked fast to your garage. How could he do that?

When the season was over and Kimi wins the championship, you decided to spend your Holidays by yourself. Your family invited you over but you insisted that it wasn’t needed, you had plans. It wasn’t true, you just thought it was better for you to stay at your house. You sighed, looking out the window. It was snowing and you’re alone, once again. Alone, with a championship lost and a friendship too. Sometimes loneliness seeks loneliness.

You made some tea and sat in front of the tv, your favourite show on, when you suddenly heard the doorbell ring. What? Who could ever be? The postman?

You got up and went to the door. The least person you expected to find was right behind it: a pair of icy eyes stared into yours. Kimi was in his Mclaren jacket, hands in his pockets. “Can I… can I come in?”

You really weren’t in the mood for fighting, but you let him in anyway because, in the end, what did you have to lose? Not an exciting Christmastime for sure.

Kimi took his jacket off and hung it. He walked around the apartment, nervous. “I’m sorry for the unexpected visit.”

You shook your head. “You needed something?” You couldn’t hide you were quite taken aback by his suddenly appearance. You weren’t at all prepared and didn’t know what to say.

“No. Well,” he turned to face you. “I actually wanted to apologize. For what I said the last time we talked. I didn’t want to spend Christmas with regrets.”

That was a very very unusual behaviour from Kimi.

“Okay, apologies accepted.” You crossed your arms, serious expression on your face. “Something else you want to get off your chest?”

He sighed and brought his hands to his face. “I don’t want our friendship to end like this.” You could feel how hard he was trying by the tone of his voice, how much it was costing him, to admit he was in the wrong. “Please.”

How could you not forgive him? His puppy eyes, the color of the ice, were enough to make you forget about everything that went bad between you two. “I too don’t want it to end.”

Kimi smiled, and it was the best thing you had seen in a while. He hugged you. He was warm and tender as he wrapped his arms around you. You missed that warmth.

“You doing anything on Christmas?” Kimi asked, as he draw back to look at you.

“No, actually.”

“Perfect, I have plans.”

[ivfrankenstein]

DEATH CHERISHES YOU | nuada silverlance x fem!reader;

the bloodstains on the stairs that had brought him here could be compared to breadcrumbs. step by step he was moving away from the original destination, consciously choosing to approach a new one. this one may not have been such an urgent matter for the prince, but another opportunity might not present itself for a long time to come.

farther on, the traces went away from the stairs and into the depths of the hall, from where a familiar dripping sound reached his ears. even at a distance it was effortless for nuada to hear all the breaths in and out of the person in there, so anyway, by the time his presence was noticed and all sounds suddenly stopped, it was definitely too late.

“you are easy to find, even when you're hiding.” he spoke first and purposely omitted the greeting, “shouldn't someone be watching you?”

“do they have to?” the voice from the darkness answered him with a question, “all my caretakers are busy at the moment. why don't you come visit me later?”

he stepped unobstructed around one of the columns on his right side and could now see the one talking to him from the back. it would be a pretty vulnerable position for another even without a bleeding wound on her arm. but he had more than once been able to see that she was not much bothered by this dangerous proximity. y/n was judged to be reckless and at times just a less skilled member of the team, which, nuada could tell, was hardly the truth.

“with seven nannies the child still loses an eye. are you familiar with that saying?”

“i am.”

it was very polite of her to answer him first, and only then to immediately clamp the end of the cloth with her teeth to tear it in two. the injury was deep enough that blood trickled from her hand to the floor, but y/n handled it with a dexterity that a less skilled member of the team could only envy.

“it's all a total waste of your blood.” he remarked, watching the small puddle below where she was sitting. there was all sorts of junk scattered everywhere. and the smell… it alone could suffocate a human victim.

“that troll has eaten over a dozen teenagers, in case you're wondering.” she forced herself to turn around and look at the expression on his face only to see nothing but a slightly raised eyebrow.

“one more ogre, one less.” he also gave her a nonchalant shrug, “there's not enough of you to catch them all anyway.”

“i’m not surprised you're more than okay with that information.” she said to his face before turning away again, continued to bandaging her arm and willfully badly playing the part where she wasn't dying to know what he was up to, “it just proves that an ogre as the only reason would hardly have caught your attention. so in that case, what brought the prince here?”

“the same as you.” it didn't cost him anything to tell her the truth, knowing there was probably nothing she could do about it, “it took me a lot of time and resources to find anything about this place myself.” except that what she wanted to get from him was different from what he'd come to share, “you did a great job, honestly. but it's for sure not the one that impresses me the most.”

it lasted less than a couple seconds, the way she stopped moving altogether, as if one single hint from him had paralyzed her to the bone. it was clear that the slightest interest shown in her ability would be met with the utmost wariness, which proved she was many things, but certainly not reckless.

“do me a favour, given my situation, and instead tell me if i should start worrying or not? it'll take me a while to remember where i left the gun.”

“oh, a gun, how uncivilised,” he said in a bored tone, “you have more delicate weapons with you. but i doubt you'll resort to any of them.”

“and why is that?” she asked, trying to stay focused, “i kept you from dying once because it was fair to your people. but for the second time, i hope your sister will forgive me for my non-interference.” her last words came out floating in a trembling voice. she was for now done with the bandage and turned to his side, with her hand clasped to her chest.

she seemed kind of particularly susceptible right now, and his years of being a corruptor suggested this might be a good moment to get close to her. but nuada's choice was to stay where he stood. from the beginning he was carrying this belief that y/n would want to know more without him seducing her into it. that's why he came. so he could see it for himself.

“by letting me live, you risked the fate of mankind by putting the interests of our race first. it's only fair for me not to fight you.”

“what a noble act. i know a few people for whom to take that chance would be enough to keep them happy for the rest of their lives.”

it might have seemed like an unnecessarily rude response, but it was clear to both of them that she was simply using the language of facts.

“and i will put my sister's name on that list with my own hand.” he confirmed it, “but as we've seen, that's not an acceptable outcome for you.” he paused to allow her to dispute it, but y/n only raised an eyebrow at him skeptically, willing to hear his explanation, “i'm going to guess that you've thought about the possible consequences of this decision of yours so often that you're now equally afraid of it and eager to discover it. you,” he pointed at her with an open palm, “already have so much of me in your thoughts that it's easier to let me go just to finally see.”

for a few seconds they looked silently into each other's eyes, almost like examining that gaze for recognition.

“if so,” then, as nuada assumed she would, y/n found an answer way too quick for someone for whom what she'd heard would be new, “i think it won't sound too presumptuous that to come to those conclusions you must have thought a lot of me yourself.”

the next thing the prince heard was his own laughter. how she succeeded in making a fool of him so easily by saying it caused him to laugh about it absolutely sincerely. it was so human, he couldn't even be prepared for it.

“that was a dirty trick.” she admitted before he could, “in my defense, it's getting hard to keep my attention, so..” she reached for the walkie-talkie fixed to her belt, but before she pressed it, she looked at the prince once more, “if you'll excuse me.”

“please.” nuada only said.

“death jr. to red.” y/n switched, bringing the radio to her lips, “death jr. to red. we have a royal guest in the neighborhood. over.”

he smirked and nodded in understanding, “as a good team member should.”

y/n said nothing more and just watched him escaping casually into the darkness again. from there he added, “i hope by the next time when we get a chance to finish our conversation, you don't have so much blood on you, my dear. although i must say that red suits you well.”

—gif: @amatesura 📿 also, english not my first language. so, i beg you pardon.

[uselesslexbian]

the tortured poets department sentence starters.

i was supposed to be sent away, but they forgot to come and get me.

i love you, it's ruining my life.

my husband is cheating. i wanna kill him.

thought of calling you, but you won't pick up.

who's gonna hold you like me?

who's gonna know you, if not me?

sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me.

everyone we know understands why it's meant to be. 'cause we're crazy.

who else is gonna know me?

i should've known it was a matter of time.

we could've played for keeps this time.

once i fix me, he's gonna miss me.

he told me i'm better off, but i'm not.

fuck it if i can't have him.

i might just die, it would make no difference.

fuck it if i can't have us.

'cause fuck it, i was in love.

i stopped trying to make him laugh.

how much sad did you think i had in me?

you say i abandoned the ship, but i was going down with it.

just how low did you think i'd go before i'd self-implode?

you swore you love me, but where were the clues?

i'm just mad as hell 'cause i loved this place.

i forget if this was ever fun.

no, i'm not coming to my sense.

i know he's crazy, but he's the one i want.

i'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning.

i'll tell you something about my good name - it's mine alone to disgrace.

you ain't gotta pray for me.

no, you can't come to the wedding.

it's gonna be alright, i did my time.

i will never lose my baby again.

ain't no way i'm gonna screw up now that i know what's at stake.

they said i was a cheat. i guess it must be true.

yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine.

tell me i'm dispicable, say it's unforgivable.

am i allowed to cry?

i keep recalling things we never did.

someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts.

if it's make-believe, why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?

they're gonna crucify me anyway.

what if the way you hold me is actually what's holy?

you don't get to tell me about "sad."

if you wanted me dead, you should've just said.

who's afraid of little old me?

at all costs, keep your good name.

you don't get to tell me you feel bad.

so tell me everything is not about me, but what if it is?

say they didn't do it to hurt me, but what if they did?

i'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all said?

i'm fearsome, and i'm wretched, and i'm wrong.

you caged me, and then you called me crazy.

i am what i am 'cause you trained me.

i can fix him. no really, i can.

come close, i'll show you heaven.

trust me, i can handle me a dangerous man.

you said i'm the love of your life.

well, you took me to hell, too.

what we thought was for all time was momentary.

are they second-hand embarrassed that i can't get out of bed 'cause something counterfeit's dead?

you're the loss of my life.

i can handle my shit.

he said he'd love me all his life, but that life was too short.

i can do it with a broken heart.

i'm so obsessed with him, but he avoids me like the plague.

i cry a lot, but i am so productive. it's an art.

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart.

i'm sure i can pass this test.

they said, "babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and i did.

'cause i'm miserable! and nobody even knows!

was any of it true?

who the fuck was that guy?

they just ghosted you. now you know what it feels like.

i don't even want you back.

you didn't measure up in any measure of a man.

were you sent by someone who wanted me dead?

'cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden.

i would've died for your sins. instead i just died inside.

i'll forget you, but i'll never forgive.

i haven't come around in so long, but i'm making a comeback to where i belong.

this town is fake, but you're the real thing.

the crown is stained, but you're the real queen.

you're the new god we're worshipping.

it's hell on earth to be heavenly.

[daryltwdixon]

The Ruins of Us: Chapter 8

Summary: You're getting ready to officially leave for college, when a familiar truck pulls up outside your house. When you go to say goodbye to your best friend, there is more tension than you expected. Flash forward to the immediate aftermath of the explosion, and you stand up to Shane once and for all.

See notes at the end, as they contain spoilers for this chapter.

Warnings: mentions of smut, but still SFW.

You were nervously packing your thrifted backpack with the half used notebooks and pencils from your room, head spinning with the list of things you needed to buy for your first semester at Georgia State University. You were lucky you had some student grants to help you with things like your dorm room costs and buying new bedding for the new bed you’ll have. But the costs of textbooks, extra clothes that weren’t tattered with stains and holes, and --if you found one good and cheap–a laptop were looming over you. You heard a honking outside your front door that pulled you away from your mental list in your head. You zipped up your backpack and hauled it over your shoulder along with the duffel bag with all your other belongings. You were headed out to the bus stop anyway, managing to find a couple bucks under your mom’s mattress while she was out today. You figured you’d find out who was honking outside on your way out. When you opened the front door, you froze in the doorway, half turned around to close it behind you. There was a glossy black truck in your driveway. You slowly brought the door shut behind you. Looking around the street to see if anyone else was nearby, you dropped your things on your porch and walked down to the driver’s side door hesitantly.

“Hey,” Shane says in a hoarse whisper, leaning out the window. 

“Hi,” you say simply back. You stood a few feet away from the car, waiting for him to say something, and he looked lost for words. He pushed his hand through his long black hair that sits piled on top of his head in a neat tousled style. His beard was growing a bit fuller now, and you stopped yourself from trying to think of what it feels like to the touch. The way Shane acted the last time you saw him was still fresh in your memory. You reached up to your neck unconsciously before bringing your hands back down to your sides. 

“Listen…” Shane finally began, “I–I’m sorry. About everything. I was such an asshole, baby. I should’ve known better,” he said nervously, “You are everything to me, Y/N. I hate the way I treated you that night. I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I miss you. I know what I did was wrong and…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

You took a deep breath, processing everything he was saying. On the one hand, you wanted him to feel as hollow as you had the past couple weeks without him. You were glad to hear he’d been hurting from the way he acted the last time. He had left bruises on your skin, but what hurt you the most was that he wouldn’t even listen to you. He completely disregarded your words, let alone how terrible you were feeling that night. But at the same time…god, you’ve missed him too. After a long while, you come to your answer. Your mind is screaming to you that you should’ve said no, but your heart managed to answer first.

“Okay,” you whisper. He looked up with you, his puppy dog brown eyes full of hope.

“Okay? You forgive me?” he said. You nodded with a small smile. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he said, getting out of his truck to hug you tight to him, “you’re everything to me, truly,” he whispered into your hair as he held you against him. He felt warm and muscled under his officer uniform–he must’ve just gotten off of work. You pulled back from him, and looked into his eyes, searching for sincerity.

“You mean it?” you whispered.

“Yeah, of course I do,” he says, reaching down and pulling you for a hard kiss. He captures your mouth possessively, holding your face to his with his large, rough hands. His tongue plunges into your mouth with fervor. You hummed in satisfaction and he pulled you into the truck, sitting you on his lap. As he sat back in the driver’s seat, he ran his rough hands down your arms, making you shiver. You straddled him, knees deep in the seat as he pulled you closer.  “How ‘bout one more time, before you have to go,” he teased, pulling you into him for a few small, wet pecks to your lips.

“I have to get going, I’m going to miss my bus,” you said, your arms around his neck.

“I’ll drive you, I don’t want you on that nasty public bus,” he said with a playful hint to his voice. 

You hesitated. You were planning on seeing Daryl on your way out, to say goodbye. You weren’t moving far, but the chances of you being able to afford bus fare and come back to see him were few and far between. 

“It’s really okay, I don’t mind,” you insisted, pulling your arms away from his neck. You went to press them on his chest but he reached up, holding your arms in place.  “I’ll take you to see ‘em,” he said knowingly. He rubbed his hands down your arms again, comforting you. His voice was quiet and soft. Gentle, even. Your eyes widened in confusion.

“Really?” you asked.

“Yeah, ‘course. But first,” he smiled coyly, “…I’ve missed you,” he said, squeezing your ass in his large hands, making you grind your hips onto him. You toppled forward onto him, his lips finding your neck, kissing and biting you.

“Okay, okay,” you giggled, “make it quick–then I really have to go,” 

“Deal,” he said, grabbing your hair and pulling you further down into his lap.

x

You breathlessly pulled your shirt back down to cover yourself and zipped your shorts up when you climbed out of the truck a few minutes later.

“I gotta go get my bags,” you began, buttoning the last fastening on your shorts, “And I think I forgot something,” you said with a big smile, going up to your house for the last time. You run to haul your bags over your shoulders, dashing inside.

x

You had thought this was a good idea–Shane dropping you by Daryl’s on your way to leave for school. But the closer and closer you got to his house, the faster your heart beated against your chest. As Shane put the truck in park, he pulled your chin to look at him and brought you in for a long kiss before releasing you. 

“Go on, I’ll be right here,” he said gently.

You smiled and pushed open the door with one hand, a cupcake in your left. When Shane offered to give you a ride, you suddenly had remembered you made one vanilla cupcake for today to bring to Daryl. You were going to miss his birthday that weekend, but still wanted him to know you remembered. 

When you shut the truck door behind you, you stopped dead in your tracks. Daryl was perched on his front porch railing, smoking a cigarette. You looked back into the truck to see Shane staring him down now. Had he pulled you in for a kiss because he knew it would be in front of him? Shane wouldn’t be that petty--no. But as you watched their stare down continue, you weren’t so sure.

Daryl wasn’t looking at you as you approached the house, but staring hard at the vehicle in his driveway. When you made your way up onto the porch, he finally turned his head to look at you, his glare still glacial on his face.

“I came to say goodbye,” you said quietly to him. You held out the cupcake to him, “and to say happy early birthday,” he looked down at the cupcake, and back up at you. Without saying anything he just looked back out at the truck, eyes narrowed. 

“Daryl, please,” you plead to him, lowering the cupcake. You don’t know what else to say, so you stood there, just waiting. Daryl brought the last of his cigarette up to his lips, still watching the truck. Once he had let out a long puff of smoke out to the sky, he hopped off the railing, putting the cigarette out on the wood, and walked right past you into his house. He made sure to slam the door behind him, the bones of the house shaking. You stared wide eyed at the door for a long moment, not sure what to do. You felt your face flush with heat, and before you would allow any moisture to gather in your eyes, you sat the cupcake down on the cigarette butt littered table by the door, and ran back out to the truck.

x Flash Forward x

By the time you and Daryl had made it back to your truck, there were pieces of ash and debris falling out of the sky already. He had gotten up off of you once the explosion had made its initial blow, bringing you up to your feet, only to turn and run to the cars at breakneck speed. So now, you’re finally reaching the truck door and swinging open the passenger side as he throws his crossbow and gun in before hopping in himself.

“You idiot! You absolute idiot! ” he was shouting at you, “the hell were you doin’ in there? You nearly exploded with the whole damn building!” 

He is shaking with rage as he waits for some sort of explanation from you. When you both turn to see Dale and Andrea make it to the RV, he reaches down to turn the key in the ignition. He rests his hand on the wheel, waiting to start moving, and looks over at you expectantly. 

“So did you!” you yell back at him.  “I was only in there ‘cause I was lookin’ for you after I didn’t see you come out with us!” his red face is livid, and spit flying as he yells. You are taken aback, sitting against your seat. With your hesitation, Daryl continues, “What the hell were you even doin? Forget a magazine ‘er somethin? Lip gloss left behind?” He starts moving ahead, behind the rest of the group's cars. His hands are white knuckling the steering wheel.

“Oh screw you, Daryl. I was looking for you , asshole.” you narrow your eyes and point an accusatory finger at him. Now it’s his turn to look stricken, so you continue, "I didn’t see you. I didn’t see anyone when I came out of my room. I had to—" you pause, trying to find the right words, "I couldn’t leave without… knowing for sure where you were." Your voice drops to a whisper. "I just needed to make sure no one else was in there," You end quietly, but with a sense of finality. You know what you really wanted to say, and hope he could read between the lines without making you say it out loud.  “Well don’t do anythin’ like that again,” he says quieter, “ Stupid. It’s stupid to risk your life for me, Y/L/N,” he says even quieter, almost to himself. 

“Back at you, Dixon ,” you say with sarcasm, folding your arms over your chest in annoyance. Rick’s voice suddenly comes over the radio on Channel 40 after a long stretch of silence between the two of you, and you reach down to turn up the volume.

“--gonna pull over here by these houses,” the bad connection breaks up his voice, “--some vehicles we can siphon some gas,” his voice is crackling from the static, but you’re able to make out the important information. Daryl pulls the truck up on the dirt driveway and looks over at you.

“‘m serious, Y/N. Never again.” he says seriously. You almost roll your eyes but think better of it, and just ignore him. Hopping out the passenger side, everyone is grabbing the gas cans, ready to see what they can find from the abandoned vehicles left behind. 

Shane is approaching both you and Daryl, and you stiffen, “We’re gon’ need to ration the gas we can find,” he says with authority to Daryl, “you okay with drivin’ the bike to save gas, we can take what’s left in the truck and use it for the RV?”

Daryl just nods, moving to the bed of his old beaten up truck to start unstrapping the motorcycle. You stand in front of Shane, who has his hands on his hips, looking down at you. 

“Listen Y/N,” he breathes, but you shake your head.

“Let’s just forget about it,” you say, whispering to him and shaking your head, “I don’t want to know what’s going on with you and Lori. It’s not my business,”

“Okay, but I–” he begins, but you hold up a hand, stepping directly in front of him to shield anyone’s prying eyes.

“But if you ever touch me like that again,” you seethe, your eyes filling with fire, “I will not hesitate. I will tell every member of this group what’s goin’ on and what you did. And I happen to know two people who would have a real problem with that information,” 

He stares down at you, his eyes hardening.

“You and me, Shane, whatever this is, whatever it was, is no longer. I can’t do it anymore. You crossed a line. A really fucking big line. I ain’t your ‘plaything’ anymore. I’ve had enough,” you finish, quoting his words from last night. You step away and turn before he can say anything else. Rick is watching the two of you, and when he looks over your shoulder, he nods to Shane, maybe in question, you can’t tell. You don’t care anymore. 

Daryl is sitting on Merle’s bike now, engine roaring to life. He walks it up as he sits, pulling in front of you, cutting off your path. He just shoots his head over his shoulder gently, waving you on. A silent understanding that he was done being mad at you. Without a word, you hop on, and grab him by the sides of his tattered sleeveless shirt. You look over to Shane, who watches Lori and Rick before Dale calls him to get into the RV. So, you have only three vehicles now: the RV, the hatchback, and the bike. You suppose the guys must’ve funneled the fuel they found and conserved what they could from the other two you had to leave behind. Until there was any chance of finding a camp, resources had just become very, very scarce.

You hear the RV start behind you, and Daryl leads the newly minimized caravan ahead to the highway.

Notes: yes I'm annoyed at the MFC too for getting back together with that asshole. But she must! For the plot!! She doesn't know any better! She's never had a father's love! yes it's a short chapter, I was emoshie over Daryl and you, okay??? and can we just have a moment for that pic of young Daryl????

Chapter 9 is here

[elliespuns]

The prologue scene is so important. There's so much hidden emotion behind Joel singing to Ellie.

What's so unbearable about this scene is that Ellie already knows Joel is lying to her, and Joel, as guilty as he is, suspects she knows but still tries his best not to admit it to himself. That's why the conversation between them is so awkward, even though we aren't given any reason for it to be in that moment. We'd expect that something must have happened between them in the meantime to make them so distant, but nothing really happened—that's the thing—nothing happened.

Ellie wasn't sure whether Joel was telling her the truth or not back when he told her about the fireflies after he saved her, because even though something in her was telling her that he was lying to her, she WANTED so badly to believe he wouldn't. But I think that time spent with Joel from this point on made her realize. 

Joel is not the type of guy to show emotions, to soften, or to try so hard. Yet, it's all he's been doing ever since they ended up in Jackson. All this constant trying to chitchat with her, tell jokes she likes, learn about her favorite things, sing to her (to somehow make amends to her), she knows what all this is about. She's not stupid. She can feel it, and she can see it in his face. It's not like Joel is good at hiding his guilt anyway.

This is perfectly portrayed in the scene where he comes into her room and sings to her. You can see how much he's nervous. Why is he nervous? To sing? No. He's nervous because he's about to sing to someone who might already feel disappointed in him. He's not self-conscious. He's not feeling himself because he's scared of what her reaction is going to be. It would break him if there was another thing she didn't like about him. And it's stupid to think so, because why would Ellie judge his singing? She wouldn't, and he knows it. Yet he can't help it because he's so buried in his guilt that he's losing his mind. You can see it in his face as he stops singing. He's ashamed to look at her; he needs her to say something. Something nice. He's avoiding eye contact.

Ellie, on the other hand, feels everything in that moment too deeply. The way he strums the guitar so delicately, the way his husky voice sings so softly, and how honest he is with the words he's too afraid to say out loud in a casual conversation. She can see he's trying. That's why she lets him do his thing, even though a part of her just wants him to leave. She knows he's lying to her. But she doesn't want to believe it. So when he starts, it changes everything for her.

You can see in the way Ellie carefully listens to every word that's meant just for her that she's falling for his love, letting the possibility of him not actually being the bad guy pierce through her being. He clearly loves her, so why dwell on it? She's letting his love in, forgiving him in a way.

That's why she's so sad when he leaves the room. If he's lying to her, why isn't she worth the truth? On the other hand, what if he's not lying to her? She's unreasonably pushing this mellow man, who means well, away. It makes her feel bad. She needs to give him a chance.

That's why later, when she's 16, we see her enjoying her birthday with Joel, laughing and bickering. It's because she let herself let go. She let the heavy feeling in her chest of him lying to her die that day and let his love in instead.

And then, a year later, she finds the letter, and all those feelings and doubts are back. It makes her go back to the hospital, and she finds out the truth. It is so sad to realize that maybe if she hadn't found the letter, she would have never gone back to the hospital and would have never found out the truth that cost her 2 long years of a beautiful fatherly friendship with the only person who had ever loved her so deeply.

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere Tamlin and Rhysand hcs sharing a darling? 👀

❝ 🌹 — lady l: It's three in the morning where I live and here I am... Writing! Do I care? No. Anyway, I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! 💞

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of injuries, unhealthy relationships, polyamorous (sorta of).

❝ ⭐pairing: yandere!tamlin x gn!reader x yandere!rhysand.

They won't share. That simple. There is no way Tamlin and Rhysand would agree to share a darling, let alone a mate. Tamlin is extremely jealous and Rhysand is possessive as hell. Add the fact that their darling is their mate makes it even worse.

Once one realized the other's interest all hell would break loose. It would all really depend on who discovered it first, but at the end of the day, nothing else would matter. Not even you.

Tamlin is the least emotionally unbalanced and this makes him very volatile and dangerous when his temper gets out of control. He is explosive and although he will never knowingly hurt his darling, you still have to walk on eggshells around him. Especially when Tamlin is jealous or furious.

Rhysand is the most rational one in the situation, or at least he tries to be the most rational one, even though he is seething with hatred inside. Rhys might be willing to share his darling with others, but never with Tamlin, his second worst enemy.

A huge fight would begin and if the situation between the two Courts was already bad before, it would become even worse and more volatile. Tamlin wants you at any cost and so does Rhysand, and neither is willing to share.

You would just be a toy caught in a tug of war. They detested each other deeply and their resentment grew more because of you and you would be nothing less than a pawn in a game that has lasted centuries.

They would still try to care about your needs and what you want, but they will both be so blinded by their hatred and possessiveness that you won't be as important. Not when they desperately wanted to destroy themselves.

The only situation I can see them coming to some kind of agreement would be if something happened to you, like if you were a human and almost died or suffered a terrible injury. It would be the only case where Tam and Rhys would work together for you.

Tamlin wants you desperately, he's already so alone and he needs comfort, love and reassurance. He wants to be loved so desperately and his obsession with you has become so unbearable that he can't sleep properly if he doesn't know that you're okay and with him.

Rhysand wants to be loved and have a loving family above all else, he wants this with all his might. He needs you, he needs to smell you and hear you tell him that he loves him. He needs to know that you love him, that he is the only one for you, and that no matter what, you will always choose him.

They will always fight over you, they will never reach a consensus and you are likely to end up broken and none of them will take the blame, as they will be too focused on destroying themselves than on what you need. Rhysand has tried to pay more attention to you, but at the end of the day, it's really about his personal war with Tamlin.

However, at any sign of threat to your life, they will put aside this feud and focus only on you. Even if it doesn't seem like it, they care about you and love you, in a twisted and strange way, but they do and they want to take care of you. Tamlin, especially, due to the fact that he is overprotective.

Rhysand and Tamlin will never come to an agreement, but maybe, as time goes on, they can learn to share you. There will always be bad blood and fights, but perhaps they will realize that the best way to protect you is to come together. Two High Lords can do very well protecting their mate, even if they hate each other deeply.

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Propaganda:

For Orufrey: "They're tragic wlw who have devoted their lives to each other since they were kids. They live together, they cook together, they're raising four girls together and they're doing the best they can. Olruggio would do anything for Qifrey if Qifrey would just Let Him 😭 but Qifrey is dead-set on protecting Olruggio and keeping him safe and in the dark no matter what it costs... i cant 😭..."

"Man I don't know they just have the vibes. They have toxic yuri energy but they are two grown men. They've known each other since their apprentice days and have stuck together ever since. Qifrey's main magic type was something he took up because Olruggio proposed that he learned to control the water he feared. They live together away from most of society with Qifrey's four apprentices, living the sapphic cottagecore (ateliercore???) dream. Qifrey, due to the fact that his eyesight is very much failing, something which is very problematic when it comes to witches, who need their eyesight more than most, is getting very desperate to get all he lost to the Brimhats, the witches who took one of his eyes and his memories, and Olruggio ends up noticing this pursuit and is implied to have done this more than once. Qifrey does not want Olruggio to know about both his failing eyesight and his goals, so he ends up completely wiping Olruggio's memory of those things, and laments that Olruggio is a kind person, and one who would most likely forgive him again, but also one who would try to save him, even when he didn't want to be saved. He also apologized right up until the moment Olruggio's memories of his secret were gone. In general I think chapter 40 is the somewhat toxic guy yuri chapter ever. I'm very tired so I do not know how to explain any of this, I just thought "wow Orufrey reminds me of this one poll I saw on Tumblr" and then spent three days straight hunting for your blog before completely forgetting my reasoning for Orufrey being yuri right before I submitted this."

For Joongdok: "Well first of all Yoo Joonghyuk has a whole arc that is transfem coded as hell (has a power/technique that can technically only be used by women but somehow he can also use it, for a time he even turns into a woman to wield it and it's. Actually just let me get the quote "The ines of the face had changed but it was clearly Yoo Joonghyuk. No, it was even more than before.") that just kinda happens,, and doesn't get brought up again but anyway. Second of all just look at them. You see the vision. Also a bonus observation is that these two often get shipped in a poly ship with Han Sooyoung and whenever I see people make a "regular couple, yaoi couple, yuri couple, I see no difference love is love" meme with them the combination of which pair among these three is which of the categories is always different"

Note: This submission also mentions Han Sooyoung, but I decided to count this polyship submission as guy yuri as well.

"They love each other, they pretend they don't care for each other but all their actions prove they care too much, if you remove someone from the trio then the resulting duo is extremely dysfunctional, as evidenced by more than a million words of canon. Is it technically guy yuri? Well, Han Sooyoung is a woman, but in a way she's one of the guys. Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk are men, but the text heavily hints that Yoo Joonghyuk is a trans woman who's just too busy and stressed out to transition yet, and Kim Dokja has just never thought about his own gender a single day in his life. They made the world for each other, they went back in time countless times and waged countless wars for each other, they wrote and read and lived a story, their story, for each other and that's what saved them all. The way Han Sooyoung writes Yoo Joonghyuk's story to save Kim Dokja and loses herself in the process, the way Yoo Joonghyuk voluntarily lives the story to the point of losing himself too and even forgetting why he originally decided to do it, the way Kim Dokja read Han Sooyoung's story which was Yoo Joonghyuk's life and that's how he found himself, they all took so much from each other and gave so much of themselves to each other, this is all very yuri."

"they're so yuri you have no idea. they have every staple of a yuri ship. unwavering devotion. waiting dozens or thousands of years for each other. dooming themselves and the world for each other. so much yearning. i also see them genderbent a lot (including inn canon in the case of yjh) and they're right both of these people are women. i genuinely can't even see them strictly as men at this point they're just yjh and kdj and they are yuri do you understand."

"they're so yuri. the abscense of yuri is the presence of yuri etc etc. these two guys are all ABOUT abscenses. also one of them is a part time woman. the other guy is a guy but like in the same way a square is a rectangle. anyway they're so guyyuri to me. bonus points also because they have a mutual girlfriend and when she's present they're girlyaoi but that's not relevant to this specifically"

[mokokone]

Since you do demon slayer and mononoke, can I request a demon slayer reader x Kusuriuri/medicine seller. I heard that he's a kitsune, and I saw that kitsure are equated to demons. So, like the reader is trying to kill Kusuriuri's, but he always manages to escape her attempts (kinda like a cat and a mouse game), and it slowly starts to become a relationship (Maybe he saves her from a strong Mononoke, its up to you lol). Of course you don't have to do this, love your work! ♥️♥️

A/n: This was fun to write. Though I did have a hard time trying to fit Kusuriuri in the Demon Slayer universe. I honestly don't think he would fair against Muzan and his demons since they're basically still humans and Kusuriuri only fights against Mononoke. I am also not good at writing something like a Tom & Jerry chase scenario so forgive me if this doesn't meet your standards.

Anyway, I hope you like, comment, reblog (only if you want to), and enjoy!

Encounter - The Medicine Seller x DemonSlayer!Reader [ᴍᴏɴᴏɴᴏᴋᴇ x ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ ꜱʟᴀʏᴇʀ: ᴋɪᴍᴇᴛꜱᴜ ɴᴏ ʏᴀɪʙᴀ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱᴏᴠᴇʀ]

Your Kasugai crow had informed you hours ago to head west. You obediently followed its guidance, sprinting as quickly as you could until you arrived at the rural mountain village where a peculiar string of disappearances and murders had occurred.

During your investigation, you're informed by the residents that a mysterious man has been spotted roaming the streets after dark and leaving behind a number of strange ofuda (paper tailsman) on people's doors and was carrying a box on his back.

He had arrived like the wind, proclaiming to be a medicine vendor, and was last seen wandering down the old pine forest road.

Despite the fear that gripped the neighborhood, no one could say for sure who this mysterious man was or what his intentions might be.

You weren't too surprised. As a Kanoto-ranked demon slayer, you were certain that this so-called "medicine seller" is the demon responsible for kidnapping and killing people.

Though it's likely the vile fiend wasn't as powerful as a Kizuki member, you knew not to underestimate any demon─regardless of their rank.

After all, even lower-ranked demons could prove to be formidable opponents if not dealt with carefully. As you set out to hunt down the demon behind the gruesome acts, you made sure to prepare yourself for whatever challenges may come your way. With your trusted blade and unwavering determination, you were ready to face whatever horrors awaited you in the shadows.

When nightfall came, you opted to patrol the streets and wait for the man to strike so you could slay him. You had already instructed your crow to call for backup immediately in case things were to go wrong.

You didn't survive in the Demon Slayer Corps for this long without a good reason. It was your duty to protect the innocent and rid the world of evil, no matter the cost. And you were more than willing to fulfill that duty, even if it meant putting your own life on the line.

Thus, the hunt was on!

At first, nothing out of the ordinary happened, and it was so quiet that you had to fight to remain conscious. Luckily, your time on Mount Fujikasane forced you to always remain on your guard while on missions.

Suddenly, the tap of wooden geta caught your attention, and when you snapped your head towards the sound, you saw a man with a purple bandana tied around his head and carry a strange box on his back.

The box reminded you of the one your friend Tanjiro Kamado uses to carry his little sister Nezuko.

His skin is very pale, his ears are pointy, and he has sharp canine teeth and dark blue eyes. His hair is dirty blonde and he is dressed in a vibrant kimono. Red markings outline the outsides of his eyes, with teardrop shapes underneath. He appears to be smirking, but it's actually because of a purple mark on his upper lip.

He, in fact, didn't appear to be human at all! Surely he must be the demon going around murdering people.

You gripped your katana tightly, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you stared down the strange man before you.

Before you could even think twice, your body reacted instinctively, fluid and precise, as you lunged forward with the intent to behead the perceived demon.

"I have you now, demon!" you declared, voice laced with a mixture of determination and a hint of bloodlust as you unsheathed your nichirin blade.

 It was a game of cat and mouse, with you relentlessly pursuing the stranger, driven by your conviction that this man was a demon that needed to be vanquished.

The stranger, however, seemed unfazed by your aggression, and with a brief glance, he turned and fled, disappearing into the shadows of the surrounding woods. Without hesitation, you gave chase, your feet pounding against the forest floor as you pursued the fleeing figure.

 As the chase continued, the stranger seemed to effortlessly weave through the dense foliage, his movements fluid and graceful. You, however, refused to be deterred, your determination fueling your every step.

 "You can't run forever, demon!" You shouted, your voice echoing through the woods.

 The stranger remained silent, focusing on his escape. You could feel the frustration building within you, your desire to catch the elusive figure growing stronger with each passing moment.

 Suddenly, the stranger took a sharp turn, disappearing behind a thicket of trees. You followed suit, your katana raised and ready to strike. But as you reached the clearing, the stranger was nowhere to be seen...

"Wh-what?" You quickly scanned the area, your senses heightened, searching for any sign of the fleeing demon.

"What is this demon you speak of?" Said a voice from behind you.

Startled, you quickly swung your sword back. However, the stranger skillfully intercepted your strike, effortlessly catching the blade between his index and middle finger.

"I'm afraid you must have me confused with someone else." With a quick flick of his wrist, he makes you lower your katana, and you can't help but snarl.

"I am not a demon, but a medicine seller," the stranger continued, his voice calm and soothing. "I am simply passing through," he tells you.

Despite his reassurances, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. The stranger's words seemed too good to be true, and his demeanor was too composed for someone who claimed to be innocent.

You scoffed, unable to contain your skepticism. "Yeah right. Are you seriously expecting me to believe that?"

The stranger's smile remained unwavering, and his expression betrayed no hint of offense at your disbelief. It was as if he had anticipated your reaction and was prepared to face your doubts head-on.

You stepped back, putting some distance between you two, before gripping and raising your katana once more. "With that appearance, anyone can see you're not human," you add, and you launch at him again.

The medicine seller was quick as he countered your attack with a weapon of his own. His blade was sheathed, with the saya (scabbard) being unlike anything you've ever seen. The hilt had the appearance of a komainu that's commonly found in Shinto shrines. And you could swear it clicked its teeth at you.

That's not normal.

You hesitated, unsure of what to make of this eponymous stranger who seemed to be more than meets the eye. However, you were finding it hard to believe his words.

"I understand your doubts, little demon slayer," the medicine seller said, his voice soft and suave. "But I assure you, I'm no demon, just a medicine seller, and my intentions are of no ill-will." He reassures.

"Besides, you should know not to ever judge a book by its cover."

"I..." You balk. "I don't trust you," you muttered, eyeing him warily as you tightened your grip on your own weapon, ready for any sudden moves.

The medicine seller merely chuckled. "Trust is a luxury not easily afforded in our line of work," he replied cryptically, his tone still gentle. "But rest assured, I am here to help, not harm."

Despite his reassurances, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. The Komainu hilt seemed to mock you with its silent gaze, adding to the mystery surrounding this enigmatic figure before you.

"However, if you wish to kill me, then I am afraid I'd have no choice but to defend myself," he warned, his eyes never leaving yours.

In one swift movement, his weapon clashes with yours, knocking you back some. You attempted to use your Wisteria Breathing technique to counter his attack, but he was already one step ahead, effortlessly dodging your moves with a smirk on his face.

You couldn't help but admire his agility and skill.

As your little fight of keep away continued, you couldn't help but wonder about the true intentions of this enigmatic man.

Was he truly here to help, as he claimed, or was there more to his story than met the eye?

The way he moved with grace and precision was a clear indication of his expertise in combat, making it clear that you were facing a formidable opponent.

Frustration started to consume you as you observed that he showed no intention of drawing his sword or harming you in any way.

"Are you affiliated with Kibutsuji Muzan?" you inquired, seeking clarity.

"Muzan...?" The medicine seller tilted his head, looking puzzled.

"Y'know? The Demon King?" You prodded, trying to jog his memory.

"Hmm, I never heard of him," he responded. "Is he Mononoke?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Oh wow, perhaps he is telling the truth about not being a demon, especially considering his unfamiliarity with Muzan.

You stopped attacking him and took a step back, feeling a mix of both relief and confusion. The medicine seller's genuine expression and lack of recognition of the name Kibutsuji Muzan made you question your assumptions.

Maybe he truly was not connected to the demons in any way. As you observed him closely, you noticed there wasn't a rank or number etched in his pupil, indicating that he's not a member of The Twelve Kizuki.

Despite his bizarre, non-human appearance, you couldn't help but believe him as you took your sword and sheathed it. The medicine seller, seeing this, puts his weapon away as well, tucking it into the obi of his kimono.

The tension in the air dissipated slowly as you considered the possibility that the medicine seller was not your enemy after all. His demeanor, now that you had stopped attacking him, was one of peaceful contemplation.

"So, you're not a demon?" You inquired.

"As I said before, I'm a humble medicine seller just passing through," he restated.

"Are you the one responsible for putting those strange tailsmans on people's doors?"

"Yes," he answered in earnest.

"Why?" You prressed further, wanting to understand his motives.

"To protect people from mononoke," he explained. "They're vengeful spirits that feed off negative emotions, do things like possess individuals, and make them suffer, cause disease, or even death."

"Oh!" You're surprised at this, as the medicine seller continues.

"I use my knowledge and abilities to fend off the mononoke until I can learn the spirit's shape, truth, and reason. Only then can I unsheathe my blade and kill the spirit." He said, gesturing to the seemingly sentient sword in his obi.

"So, you're like me but a ghost hunter?" You asked, now both intrigued and amazed, as stars twinkled in your eyes.

The medicine seller chuckles, "Sort of."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you realized that the medicine seller was actually not a threat. The initial fear and tension that had gripped you just moments ago now seemed like a distant memory.

"That's so cool, Mr. Kusuriuri-san," you commented, and he smiled at the name.

Soon, you felt a twinge of guilt for attacking him earlier as you lean forward and bow. "Please forgive me, Kusuriuri, for trying to kill you," you apologized.

"I was quick to judge you without knowing the whole story," you added, feeling a sense of regret for your actions.

But the medicine seller simply chuckled and reassured you that he held no grudges.

"It's okay, little demon slayer. It is a common reaction when faced with the unknown," he reassured you, his tone gentle as always. "You were simply doing your job. I understand it's your solemn duty to protect humanity from this Muzan and his army of demons."

You blushed upon feeling his hand pat your head, a gesture that conveyed both approval and reassurance. In that moment, you felt a surge of gratitude towards him for his understanding. It was a reminder of why you had taken on the mantle of demon slayer in the first place—to safeguard the innocent and uphold justice in a world threatened by Muzan and his demons.

It seems both you and Kusuriuri share a common goal. You, a demon slayer, and he, a mononoke hunter, both seek to rid the world of dark forces that threaten the balance.

"So, what are the mononoke you're hunting, Kusuriuri-san?" You soon asked him.

"They are ikiryō (live spirits) and are the restless souls of the villagers who have been slaughtered by the demon you've been summoned to seek and destroy." He tells you.

"Really?"

"Yes," Kusuriuri nods. "The demon is their truth, but unfortunately, my abilities are futile against such a fiend. So, I'm in need of your aid, demon slayer. If you kill the vile demon, only then can I vanquish the ikiryō, so that they may find peace." He explains.

As you mulled over Kusuriuri's words, you realized the fate of the village rested in your hands, and the lives of the innocent villagers hung in the balance.

And so, with determination coursing through you, you smiled before agreeing to lend him your aid.

"Thank you," Kusuriuri murmured as he then informed you where the demon was hiding.

You were ready to confront the demon and bring peace to the restless souls.

[babydin]

Sex (With My Ex) 

Wrong place at the wrong time might've cost Javier his relationship with you, but he's as smooth as he is handsome and it isn't long until you fall back into old habits. He's a drug and you're addicted. - Javier Pena x f!reader - 18+, minors DNI! - Song inspo: Sex (With My Ex) - FLETCHER - References to cheating, alcohol, fingering, dirty talk, cursing, vaginal doggy style, light choking, biting, references to bruises - 1865 words -Comments/likes appreciated - A/N: There is Spanish in this and I am not a native Spanish speaker, it is something I am learning so please forgive me if my grammar or anything is incorrect! I'm still making my way through Narcos so I'm sorry if I don't have his voice 🥺 Also I figured out how to post this without splitting it or linking it yay me! 

I just had sex with my ex in a New York apartment.

“Do you want to come in?”   It’s been almost a month since you caught Javier with another woman’s tongue down his throat, it didn’t surprise you and you almost felt like you should’ve seen it coming. He had been spending more time on his case than he had with you, more time with his informants than he had at home, of course it was inevitable that she was getting to see him at his best and his worst, get take out with him, kiss him goodnight, suck his dick when he got praise from the boss. He told you that it was just a kiss, and it was just the one time but he came home to you and slipped into bed and turned his back to you most nights and it was that that made it hard for you to believe him.   You don’t know why you said yes, maybe it was those big dumb Bambi eyes he was giving you, or the way he smelled of lager and cigarettes, but you step into Javier’s apartment and give him a cold look as you brush past him and stares down at the ground like he knows he deserves it. You have a box of things he’d left at your apartment, and you drop it carelessly on the couch. It’s mostly clothes, a few tapes, a mug he bought you from a vacation to Cape Town last year. It had a crudely drawn pair of tits on it, you never did understand his reason for buying it for you but every time you drank from it you remembered spending an entire afternoon getting fucked by him under a mango tree. You both got sunburn. Javier comes to you with a glass of something over ice. It looks and smells like tequila, you don’t want it but you take it to be polite. “You look nice.” “What do you want?” You knew you looked nice. You had purposefully worn a skirt that showed off as much as your legs as you could get away with without getting a public indecency charge on you, and a shirt that accentuated the curves of your torso in a way that wasn’t so obviously trying to, but did anyway. Your hair was tied back, exposing your neck because Javi was a biter. “Babygirl, let me explain. Will you let me?” He looks pathetic; it’s a look you’ve never seen on him before. He’s full of apology, he’s full of regret, his eyes are wet, and maybe he’s terrified of losing you. You shoot the tequila in one gulp and set the crystal tumbler on the side table then take off your jacket and lean back against the back of the couch and raise your eyebrows, indicating to him to go on.  “I swear to you, it was one kiss. Once. She came onto me–” You scoff. “I know. I know that’s such a bullshit excuse but it’s the truth. Her mouth had been on mine for half a second before you showed up. I would never break your heart like that, mi vida.” He moves closer to you, “Come on.” You could’ve melted into him right there, his soft sultry tones and those puppy dog eyes, the smell of tobacco smoke burning in your nose, the shot of tequila burning in your veins. “No, Javi. You can’t just – You can’t just sweet talk me in Spanish and expect me to just forgive you. You really fucking hurt me, you pig.” Javier pouted,  “Soy un cerdo. Un cerdo podrido. Un cerdo muy apenado y podrido.” He reaches up and touches your cheek with his thumb, “Lo siento mucho.” It turned out he could just sweet talk you in Spanish and you would forgive him. The second that apology left his lips you grabbed the collar of his shirt in both your hands and pulled him into a heated kiss, surprised at how much you had missed the taste of stale cigarettes and beer. He pushed into you and forced you to sit on the edge of the couch, your legs wrapped around him and his jeans were so tight you could feel the outline of his cock against you, he wasn’t hard but he would be soon. That feeling alone was enough to get a pool of arousal forming in your panties. Your hips rut against him, desperate for some friction at your core as pressure builds. You haven’t had anyone inside you since Javier, you aren’t sure if anyone else can compare.   He feels your pleading movements and slips his hand between the two of you, it finds a home up your skirt and into your panties, the warm slick welcome he gets makes him moan into your mouth. You pull away slightly to unbutton his shirt, “¿Se besó como yo?” you ask, with the little Spanish he has taught you, you hope it’s intelligible. He spares you the struggle of having to translate, although hearing you speak in Spanish leaves his knees weak, and answers you in breathless English, thick fingers massaging your sex, “Gatita, nobody kisses like you.” You moan desperately and try to buck against his hand, needing more of him, all of him. You pull his shirt out of his jeans and make quick work of unbuckling those. Your trembling fingers are clumsy on the fastenings, but you can feel the ghost of his length as stiff as a board and pushing awkwardly against the already tight denim. “You’re so wet, kitten. You miss me?” “Fuck me.” You’re not above begging him. He doesn’t even have to ask you to, it comes so easily; the way he gets you so riled up so quickly, skilled fingers stroking your clit with ease as you coat them with your arousal, his softly toned chest heaving as he struggled to keep his breathing at a steady pace, of course you had missed him. You needed him. Nobody in the world had ever fucked you as good as Javier Peña.  “Please, Javi.” you get his jeans open and pull them down just enough to reach inside and pull out his thick cock, hard and twitching in your hand. He doesn’t give you any time to pleasure him though, he rips you off the couch and his hand pulls your panties down in one swift move, so fast you barely have time to register what happened, but as your underwear drops to your ankles you step out of it so you can spread your legs as wide as he needs them. Javi turns you around and pushes you back over the couch, his knee pushes between your thighs to nudge your knees apart and he guides his cock between your soaked labia, coating himself in your arousal, and you moan as you feel yourself around him. You suddenly wonder how it would feel to ride him like that, his stiff cock pressed against his stomach under your weight as you rub your clit on his shaft until cum oozes out of him. Your thoughts are disturbed when Javier presses his tip inside you, your sex is aching for him, already pulsating around him, welcoming him in, trying to pull him deeper as he stretches you with his girth. He doesn’t ease in tonight, he fucks his way in, each thrust has him entering you deeper until you have all of him, his hands on your hips pulling you into him and you know you’re going to bruise from the brute force of his pelvis smacking into yours but you will wear those bruises proudly. His fist twists in your ponytail and he pulls you up off the couch a little, leaning down to meet you. That was another good reason to wear your hair up, you thought. Built arms wrap around you, the one hand finding your clit again to rub rapid circles over it as the other holds your throat. You moan loudly without a care for any of the adjacent apartments. Javier’s teeth find your neck, just behind your ear, they sink in and they suck hard and he claims you as his own. You hear him grunting, feel the heat from his breath and the sweat from his brow, and it drives you insane. “Javi—” you gasp desperately, “Javi, ba–baby I’m—” You don’t need to finish your sentence, and he knew exactly what you were going to say. He fucked you harder, so hard it made your teeth rattle, his fingers launching a relentless attack on your clit, as if he was trying to start a goddamn fire down there. You couldn’t hold onto your orgasm anymore at this rate, and you mistakenly turned your head and looked at him, his face all twisted with concentration, tan skin flushed with a fire burning within him, glistening with sweat, hair sticking to his forehead. Each forward thrust of his hips forced a moan from you until you came hard. Both of your hands wrapped around his to stop him from rubbing you any more, and your thighs clamped together as the muscles of your sex ebbed and flowed around his cock, you moaned from deep within your throat and could not believe how sensitive you were. Despite your reaction, Javier did not stop pounding into you, fucking you through your orgasm and when you were coming down he took both your hips in his hands and continued, pulling you into him as he fucked you. You had barely time to recover from your first orgasm and you felt a second brewing already, your knees were weak and you gripped onto the couch for stability.   Javier’s teeth sank into your shoulder and his hand once again found your throat. “You got me so fuckin’ pussydrunk, kitten.” he purred into your ear, his breath heavy as he struggled to catch it between his harsh thrusts. Your eyes roll back into your head and you reach back to grab at his hair desperately, pushing back against him as your second orgasm washes over you so quickly. It’s so intense that your mouth falls open but no sound comes out, the walls of your core clamp down on Javier and claim him and it doesn’t take him long before his calculated thrusts become messy, then few and far between, and then completely still as he spills his orgasm deep inside you. His voice went up an octave as he released his thankful moans into your neck. The feeling of him filling you up made you find your voice, a strangled gasp filling the air as you tugged on his hair and forced him closer into your neck. Javier’s grip loosened on your body, his touch turned suddenly so tender but still he held you close, feeling your body trembling. “Missed you.” he whispered against the shell of your ear. You smile lethargically and try to steady your racing heart that seems to beat only his name Javier. Javier. “You’re amazing Javi.” You tell him. “Stay. Please?” You think for a second and then nod; how could you possibly say no? Nobody in the world is ever going to love you like Javier Peña.

[waywardangel-wilds]

Putting this here so I don't lose it. I think this would be fun to rework into a longer version for ao3.

I had an idea (I wrote this on my phone, forgive all the random mistakes):

Catnip asked me to help her out with training. I didn’t mind, she’s never been the best at snares. Plus, it was time with her. But, as usual, the merchant got priority. I hadn’t been all that excited about teaching boy wonder, I’m still not that thrilled, but I can be nice. That’s what Katniss likes now right? She likes ‘em nice.

Anyway, whatever. Today’s the first day. I told Ma’ I’d be late from hunting so I could help Katniss out. She took the Quarter Quell announcement really hard. I did too, obviously. Every Sunday’s gonna be a long day, but it’s for the best. We gotta get Katniss home for good this time, no strings.

I’m just walking up the Victors Village hill when I spot her. She’s sulking on her front steps, covered in sweat. My mouth goes dry. She looks really good. She doesn’t notice me though, she’s too busy glaring at Mellark who’s standing in front of her.

“That wasn’t your best time.” I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk to her like that before. Guess I got used to the sappy stuff, like everybody else.

“I’m not doing that again,” Katniss snaps. She’s glaring at him as if she wants him to drop dead. I’m surprised he doesn’t.

“You’re beating that time,” he starts saying as he shucks off his sweaty shirt to use it like a towel “tomorrow.”

Katniss doesn’t say anything in return. She stands up and walks past him, making sure to knock into him with her shoulder.

Peeta turns to stare after her, “that’s gonna cost you another twenty minutes, you know.”

She flips him the bird, but doesn’t bother sticking around. She keeps walking in my direction, “Gale!”

“Hey,” I smile. She nods at me. “You ready?”

“Yeah, yeah. Where’s Haymitch?” The last half of her sentence she directs to the guy behind her.

“Probably passed out somewhere by the fence,” he snorts, taking a long drink from a bottle of water. He thankfully pulls the shirt back on. “I’ll get him, get started.”

Katniss rolls her eyes but lets Peeta leave without saying anything else. She crosses her arms, “come on, let’s practice in the house.”

I’m expecting her to head to her place, but she walks past it, going down the street towards some other house I’ve never been to.

“Where are we going?” I ask. “Haymitch’s?”

“Peeta’s. No Prim or mom, plus it’s clean.” She answers. She jogs up the steps and pushes the door open, “come on!” She says when I don’t follow right away.

Great, now I have to be in his house. “I’m right here.”

“Layouts the same, put your stuff in the living room,” She jogs towards the kitchen and I follow her at a slower pace.

I watch her turn on the tap and stick her face into the water, splashing the sweat off and taking a long drink. “What?” She asks once she catches me staring.

“Nothing,” I shake my head. I wander over to the kitchen window, looking around for anything… interesting.

“Ugh, he sucks!” Katniss whines behind me. I turn around and find her digging through Mellark’s fridge. “There’s nothing worth eating in here,” She opens the fridge wider so I can see all the vegetables in there. “Not even bread.”

I make a noncommittal sound, “yeah”

Some noise from the front door interrupts us. “Katniss!” Mellark.

“Crap.” She closes the fridge and grabs my wrist, yanking me into the living room. “I’m in here!”

“Walk,” I hear Mellark snaps at someone. Probably Abernathy.

Katniss plops herself down on a couch and I put my bag on the coffee table. Haymitch and Mellark come into the room. Mellark shoves the older man in front of him.

“Don’t make me shank you,” Abernathy groans halfheartedly and drops himself into the spare cushion next to Katniss.

“I’d love to see you try,” Mellark scoffs, side stepping around the couch. “You can’t even see straight.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Let’s just start,” Mellark says curtly.

“Would you quit being such an asshole?” Katniss says, but Mellark just stares at her, arms crossed with and a blank expression. “Show us what you brought, Gale.”

I glance at all of them, clear my throat and pull open my bag, kneeling down on the floor once I’ve got the wire and rope on the table. “We’ll start with the basics,” I say.

I start off showing them some easy traps, simple knots. Mellark crouches nearby to get a better look, accidentally knocking against Katniss’s knee. She leans forward to have a better look too, but she knows this stuff. While Mellark is frowning down at my fingers she picks up some spare wire and slowly arranges the trap. It’s a small thing, good enough to catch a curious rabbit, if you’ve got a branch nearby. Mellark turns to look at what she’s doing, reaching out to put a hand on her wrist to slow down her movements.

I watch him, frowning. Katniss doesn’t seem to notice he’s touching her at all, and honestly, I don’t think he noticed he did it either.

I brush it off and glance at Abernathy to see how he’s doing. I raise my eyebrows when I realize he’s snoozing against the couch, not a care in the world.

“Yeah that’s good,” Katniss says, picking up the loop Mellark made to inspect it. “We should probably practice setting these outside so you can see how they actually work.”

“Hm,” Peeta says dismissively. “Show me something else,” he nods, directing the words towards me.

I can tell that Katniss is bothered by his attitude, but if Mellark notices he doesn’t seem to care. It sucks to see it gets to her, but I’m glad there doesn’t seem to be anything going on between them.

I spend some time showing him a basic wire snare. I can tell Katniss checked out a while ago, she isn’t looking my way. She’s picking at some of the string in front of her without really seeing it. Mellark is paying me very close attention, so I’m surprised when he suddenly jumps up.

“You’re hungry,” he says.

“What? Oh yeah.” Katniss puts a hand to her stomach. “I’ll go back home-“

“No, come on.” Mellark motions for her to follow him into the kitchen but she stays put.

“Don’t bother, I’m sure there’s food at the house.”

“Come,” Mellark takes her hand and pulls her after him.

“I don’t need you feeding me,” Katniss grumbles but she goes along with him anyway, a small smile she hides from him tugging at her mouth.

I show up at the same time the week after that. I don’t find them outside though. I walk over to Mellark’s house again and find Haymitch drinking moonshine on the porch.

“Where is she?” I ask.

“Good morning, how are you?” Haymitch says sarcastically. “She’s inside with the boy. Might as well give em a few minutes if you value your peace.”

“What?”

“They’re fightin’. I don’t know a whole lot, but even I know when to leave something alone.” He chuckles and takes another drink. “Don’t tell em you saw me drinking!”

I ignore him and keep walking past him. You can’t hear any yelling or anything else that sounds like a fight so I push the door open and walk over to the living room.

“Catnip..?” The question dies in my mouth.

“Ugh, get off!” Katniss is struggling, trying to kick out Mellark’s legs from behind her but missing. The guy’s got her arms held behind her back, half on top of her one the ground.

“You can get out if you do it like I taught you,” he shifts his grip to compensate for her struggling. “Come on, go for the weak spots.”

“Get off of her man,” I take a step into the living room, dropping my bag to the ground along the way. “She told you to get off!”

“Gale, it’s fine,” Katniss blows some of the hair out of her face and looks in my direction. “I can figure this out, give me a sec.”

“You can wait over there, if you want.” Mellark nods towards the couch without looking at me, he’s too focused on Katniss. “Go for the leg for real this time.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Katniss snaps and keeps trying to pull her arms free. Mellark’s grip doesn’t budge. I stay standing close by. “Gale, it’s really fine. Go outside if you want, we’ll be done in a minute.”

“I’m gonna stay here.”

Mellark ignores me. “You’re already dead. You think anyone in the arena’s gonna give you this much slack? Huh? Kick!”

“Shut up!” Katniss puts all her force into throwing her shoulder back, knocking Mellark backwards. She tries to crawl away from him in the confusion, but he catches her right away, crawling on top of her and locking her wrists down with his elbows.

“What’re you gonna do now?”

“Ugh!” She tries to pull her hands free but it’s futile. Mellark shifts his weight from one hip to the other. Katniss’s feet scramble against the floor but find no purchase.

“Think it through, how do you get out?” Mellark asks, staring down at her. Katniss moves her head around, trying to get her bangs out of her face but Mellark smooths the hair back with a free hand. “Come on, stay cool. You can figure this out.”

Katniss is frowning. She looks beyond pissed. She gets one of her feet flat on the ground and uses all her strength to buck at him with her hips. Mellark merely shifts his weight again and slams hers back down to the ground.

“Damn, buy me dinner first.”

“That,” Katniss’s expression breaks and she laughs. “That’s not funny!”

“It’s a little funny,” Mellark heaves himself backwards and off of her, settling onto his knees. He offers Katniss a hand to pull her up. “We can try again some other time.”

“Fine,” once she’s seated she busied herself with fixing her messed up braid. Mellark steps past me and out of the room.

“Sorry that took so long,” Katniss is saying. “Peeta really wants me to do well at close combat.”

“Yeah, that’s what this is.” I can tell my expression is bitter because Katniss’s smile drops. “Let’s just get started.”

“Who the fuck sold to you??” We both hear Mellark shouting from the porch. “Tell me! What the hell did I say, Haymitch?!”

Katniss cringes but hops up to her feet. She starts rearranging the furniture. It had been moved to make space for their little wrestling match. “Haymitch was drinking again?”

“Yup,” I say.

“That sucks. Just when we got him in a better mood he goes and blows it.” She shakes her head.

Anyway I spent wayy longer than I intended writing this! Hope you liked it!