#anyway thanks a bundle for this trade

[mysteriousdragon2]

Art trade for @fellow-traveller

Requested me to draw Hol Horse and Polnareff! The background was entirely my choice to decide on, since I wasn't told a specific background but- the background chosen for this scenario fits splendidly! Just a flustered Hol Horse, I'm sure anybody who'd kiss him would cause him to be in a blushing fit LOL. But yeah! A blossom-like background is perfect for this, kinda had a bit of a theme going on with the background and the grass/trees being pink! Even added a cloud heart over them, love is in the air eh? Anyway thank you so much for letting me do another trade with you, here's to doing more in the future- looking forward to your part by the way ;p

[mysteriousdragon2]

And thank you very much for the Hol Horse! He looks pretty good in your style ;p And no problem for the Jonathan! Jonathan was fun to draw, especially in an outfit I never drew before!

Love how you did the pose, it’s exactly what I envisioned!

Art trade for @mysteriousdragon2 !! This was so fun to do, thank you so much for the jonathan ✨

[maskedbutsilly]

I have an entire multiverse hell hound bs au going on and in one of the current timelines it’s with slime as president after murdering quackity blah blah blah BUT slime kied Wilbur aswell and one of my favorite parts ABOUTZ THE AU ITSELF ( even though nobody asked or more or less prolly wants to read or hear ) is that ghost(bur) and alexia ( <- ghost Quackity but nonbinary femme basically to set the difference between his alive self and dead self ) leave little bouquets of what their main biomes they reside of have for eachother. so for example because ghost can’t stay in the tundra for long and that’s what alexia is banished to they’ll leave coded bouquets, a bundle of lilac, lavender, periwinkle, daisy, and some allium wrapped in brown paper and tied with a white satin ribbon stained with blue dye ( as is the paper but in hand prints ) and place it right where his flower field biome meets the tundra, always attaching messy little " enjoy these my sweet blackberry!! remember to dress warm!! " type messages, only for alexia to leave small bouquets filled with winter berry branches, winter blueberry branches, pine branches and cool spruce sticks they found wrapped in a cleaned and dried arctic fox Hyde, tied with a burlap ribbon they cut into shape herself and sending a " I love the flowers, blueberry, please enjoy the berries I found!! tell the animals there hello for me!! " against that same tree. they having nothing but a platonic relationship but more close friendship since alexia lost most of her memory from the relation to her death, whereas that remembers everything. and ghost not having the heart to tell alexia that he remembers meanwhile alexia can’t bring herself to tell him she remembers less than she lets on, the few times they’ve met alexia melts in any warm temperatures, meanwhile ghost freezes after only a short time in the tundra. her ‘ living ‘ through some of the worst blizzards known to man meanwhile ghost deals with the burning of constant summer thunderstorms, always so close yet so far away. alexias icy hands melting against ghost and burning them, meanwhile ghosts warmth caused her to melt, essentially a candle and a flame in opposite temperatures. sighing. the blogs based off of them don’t do them justice… also im so sorry for writing so much…

this went from so cute to tragic at the end…. i love when people make universes so diverged from the canon itself, i love seeing it and i wish i was that creative ;—; anyway ghost and alexia trading bouquets is so damn adorable i had to draw them <3

ALSO ALSO i LOVE WHEN PPL SEND ME LITERAL PARAGRAPHS IN MY INBOX,,,,FLOOD IT I MEAN JT I WILL READ THEM ALLKKKLLL

THANK U FOR SHARING UR LOVELY AU !!!!!!

[heartstringsbloom]

It’s midnight. The V8 Cafe is closed to everyone except Radiator Springs’ own. Flo sits in a booth near the back, out of her work apron and chatting with Ramone over tea. Lightning leans against her, head on her shoulder, wearing Doc’s old Fabulous Hudson Hornet jacket. It’s definitely a couple sizes too big, but he’s warm and Flo is running gentle fingers through his hair and he’s trying very hard not to fall asleep because it’s movie night and he’s sleeping over at Flo and Ramone’s.

They decide on Beauty and The Beast and Ramone has to run by Doc’s for Lightning’s inhaler but Doc says it’s at the Cozy Cone. By the time he gets back to the cafe Sally’s already dropped it off, bundled in her fluffy blue slippers and McQueen’s dinosaur robe that she refuses to give back. He tells her good luck prying her sleeping mask from his sticky little fingers. She gets on one knee and plants a kiss on said fingers, McQueen swoons, calls her a gorgeous sap, and Flo and Ramone share a knowing look but even they can’t tell if the two are best friends or more

They invite her to movie night but she declines because she has a case to look over, but thanks them anyway, smiling at Flo and Ramone and sticking her tongue out at McQueen who blows a kiss

Later that night Lightning is rambling about how Harv has him booked for, like, three interviews back to back and all with different people, and Flo shakes her head sympathetically as she combs his hair, wondering when he last combed it out because he’s got knots like she’s never seen before. She has to pull one apart with her nails and he winces, she apologizes, but he keeps talking and she can’t help but smile in amusement

They leave together the next morning for work, Ramone’s already at his shop, and they settle into their routine at the cafe. They work together as if they have their whole lives, cracking jokes across the diner and trading off plates for this table or that. There’s an order for pancakes and they notice at the same time that they’re out of eggs, so McQueen is like “oh I’ll get Harv to send some stuff over” and Flo just raises an eyebrow and says they’re going grocery shopping

The next day she lets McQueen wander around while she fills the cart and he comes back with arms full of candy, soda bottles, cookies, and any other sweet he can get his hands on

She’s trying not to laugh and lets him get *one* thing, wonders when she started being the one to give him permission for anything, and he pouts but tosses the cookies in the cart and puts everything else back as if he doesn’t have his own bank account

The kid has one heck of a sweet tooth, always with a lollipop in his mouth or a sweet beverage at the cafe. He also doesn’t eat enough veggies because Doc has to sneak them into his food, Flo learns

Sally managed to get him to drink kale smoothies, convinced him kale was a fruit, and McQueen slurps them up even if they are a little bitter

Strangely he’ll tear up a salad, as long as it’s drenched in salad dressing and cheese, so Flo makes sure to add them to his meals at the V8

The three work together as the Make Sure McQueen Eats His Veggies Club

[arabaka]

ᰔ ̗̀➛ CHAPTER O3. BLOSSOMING.

₊˚ʚ ☁️ ₊˚ ♡ ﾟ. content warnings ⤸ sfw. reigen arataka x afab!reader. no cw but while this chapter is sfw, the story is generally not. 1.1k word count.

₊˚ʚ ☁️ ₊˚ ♡ ﾟ. author's note ⤸ chapter 3! sorry for taking so long, muse was dead but thanks to my beloveds, meg and @bulle-blackhole, i was able to break the curse and finish this! b also gave me the AMAZING idea that you'll see when you see reigen again and that honestly got me through the rest of the chapter lol.

CHAPTER ONE. | CHAPTER TWO. | TABLE OF CONTENTS.

“We should probably set some ground rules, right?” You murmur to his chest after a short while of being in his embrace. 

Admittedly, Reigen hadn’t thought about that. “Yeah… Probably.” Reigen croaks, his cheeks heating up to an obvious red as he hears himself. “Sorry, I’ve just…” 

The man looks away, ashamed, brown eyes looking anywhere but yours as his sheepishness shows in red hues blooming over his cheeks. Though he knows, there is no running from this, not from the very truth of the fact that…

”I’ve never been in a relationship.” His voice drops decibel by decibel with every word but the shame that drips off every word has no one to blame but himself. 

The “going home” club really was a foolish decision. 

You watch Reigen's throat tense with a barbed swallow, your heart beating with sympathy (but not pity) at the sight of it. He’s pensively pushing his fingers and his gaze is to the floor. The only noise bouncing off the walls is the nervous tap, tap, tap of his feet. If his words didn’t say it, his body language certainly does: the man is anxious. Reigen thought for so long that being self-made was enough for him, but as he’s confronted with his first relationship ever, he can’t help but think he’s falling short of what you need. What you deserve.

That’s when your hand comes over his, fingers curling in for a reassuring squeeze. The corners of your lips subtly curl, a tender smile appearing as you tell him, “That’s okay. Every relationship is different anyways… And I think we can both agree our situation is very different.”

We. Our.

Those two little words seem to snap him out of his stupor; after all, Reigen wouldn’t want to miss that smile of yours. 

His hand shifts, his fingers moving to lace with yours. Immediately, he gulps, “S-Sorry, my hands are kinda sweaty.” 

“That's okay. Some sweat never hurt anybody.” You assure him with a light laugh. “How about this…” You whisper as your other hand folds over his knuckles. “Let's revisit this tonight, in the meantime we can think about all of this and… Shower because I know I need one.”

The proposition is a relieving one, Reigen letting out a breath he didn't even know he was holding when you were done speaking. “I think that's a great idea.” He murmurs with a chuckle, eyes cast on your linked hands as he continues, “I really… Don't want to screw this up.” The man admits, unable to shake off the fear that everything will fall apart and it will be all his fault. He can fake it ‘til he makes it with everything else, everyone else in his life, but he would never do that with you.

He doesn't have to.

And when he hears you tell him that he won’t screw it up, that you won’t let him, with the sweetest smile, he believes you.

—

A few hours and many, many, Mobgle searches later, Reigen stands outside of your apartment door. He’s traded his suit for a more casual look, even tried parting his hair a different way… Until he saw his reflection in the nearby window and quickly rectified that mistake.

Just in time too because there you are, opening the door with a bigger smile on your face than the one you had this morning. “Reigen!” You chirp, extra excited to show him the bouquet of flowers you had bought for him earlier that day… Only to see the exact bouquet in his hands as well.

Pink roses line both arrangements but the real stars are the gerberas, their stark white petals standing out among the rosy leaves and bundles of baby’s breath. Both sets of flowers are the same, down to the pink cellophane wrap and white ribbon around the stems. 

Both of you blink in surprise at first, stunned to silence until an escaped snort from Reigen gets you both to start laughing. “What are the odds?” You ask after a giggle, wiping your eye of the single tear that came from the belly laugh. “Let me guess…”

You don’t have to, Reigen jumps on it seamlessly, “‘You can’t go wrong with roses and gerberas!’” 

“And let me guess…” You start again with a toothy grin, “He didn’t charge you for the baby’s breath either?”

“... What?”

–

You sit on the couch– yes, the same couch you two were shamelessly making out on like you were teenagers at the height of puberty less than 24-hours prior. Though this time, there isn’t any tension to cut through. No gulped swallows and nervous stirrings of the gut.

“We should say our first rule out loud at the same time.” You’re overeager, every cell in your body just itching to hammer out these details so you can kiss that stupid face of his again… 

Okay, you really just want to seal the deal so you can officially call Reigen Arataka your boyfriend.

Reigen exclaims with a sweat already running from his brow, “What if yours is way more serious than mine?!” 

“Aw, c’mooooon.” He’s still hesitating so you bring out the big guns… A pout and a stare that would put a kitten to shame.

Reigen’s face could not get redder. He can practically feel his heart ramming against his ribs just looking at you! “... Fine.” He clears his throat, trying to recover from the strike to the heart that was your expression. “You’re not gonna do that every time you need me to agree with you, right?” He asks after a beat, letting out a chuckle that makes the red glow on his cheeks even brighter somehow.

“I make no such promise.” You answer with a nod and a smug smile, your chin wrinkling from the silly expression. “Now, c’mon! One… Two… Three!”

“No PDA at work!” 

“We shouldn’t do anything at work!”

You both let out a sigh of relief. 

“Oh, good.” Reigen leans back on the couch, eyes closed briefly in contentment. “I’m glad we see eye-to-eye on this. But it’s not because I don’t want the others to know!” He’s now sat upright, needing you to see the honesty in his eyes because he would never want you to get the impression he wants to hide you for any reason.

Your hand on his knee soothes his worries, a touch he can already see himself craving. “Hey, hey, hey. Don’t get ahead of yourself. I knew what you meant but Reigen…” You smile at him tenderly, squeezing his leg as you assure him, “You don’t need to watch yourself around me, afraid you’ll make a mistake just because we’re going to be dating now.” Oh, how your cheekbones already tingle from how much the word “date” makes you giddy. 

“Right, right.” Reigen returns your affectionate smile, his hand coming to hold yours. The gesture is still foreign to his bones but god, it feels perfect. “Well, I’m sure we can handle ourselves at work.”

“Totally.”

“Totally.”

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias/Trent Alexander Arnold x Reader - Dark Rivarly Part 5/15

Part 6 och 7 are already out on my Patreon for FREE!

Reader is Trent Alexander Arnold's twin sister. The two have been inseparable since childbirth, more so now when Reader is fresh out of university looking for a job, crashing at her brother's place whilst doing so. One day Reader gets a job offer that she cannot refuse, however it would mean working for her brother's biggest rival in football, Ruben Dias.

Enjoy!

It was your birthday. Twenty-fifth to be exact. And yes, you were celebrating it in Liverpool, but not against your will.

"Happy birthday dear Y/N and Trent, happy birthday to youuuuu!"

It was a day you shared with another person. Your other half. For this reason you were quite excited to return home.

"Open them, open up your gifts!"

The celebration was held at Trent's apartment, surrounded by family and friends. Mostly, Trent's friends, since you didn't have nearly as many.

"A golden fly?" Trent frowned, as he pulled out the item that your parents had handed to him in a neatly wrapped package.

"For when Liverpool wins the league, son." Your dad winked. "Grandma is yet to finish your golden suit."

"Thank you, I guess." Trent muttered.

Everyone cheered and threw their heads back with laughter. Everyone but you.

"I swear to God if they got me the same gift..."

As twins it was almost a tradition that the two of you received identical gifts. You and Trent were always walking around with matching pajamas during the holiday season, and that was just last year.

Trent leaned closer to you and whispered. "Where is Whiskey when you need him?"

"Poor Whiskey." You sighed. "May he rest in peace in cat heaven."

Whenever there was a gift or toy that neither you or Trent liked, you would simply hand it over to your one eyed cat. Whiskey played with anything, destroying everything. Usually people would say that their dog ate their toy, however you and Trent had a cat that got the job done for you.

"How old was he when he died, like twenty?" Trent chuckled.

"I know, right? Cat's aren't supposed to live that long, are they?"

"Especially if they've only got one eye and ate Grandma's black beans for a living."

It was nice, laughing with Trent. Whilst the party was going on around you the two of you sat back on the couch, recalling childhood memories. At one point you forgot about your reasons for letting him off easy. You had forgotten to tell him about the great news. Luckily Trent reminded you himself.

"I heard you got a new job."

"Right, my job!" You exclaimed, as it all came to you, your reason for coming.

"Grandma said you were doing terrible at her shop anyway. I guess she is glad to get rid of you."

"I actually got a great job offer." You were grinning from the inside out, eager to tell Trent the news, simply because of the mind games it would cause. "You won't guess who I'm working..."

"Do tell." Trent stretched his arm behind the couch, pulling out a medium sized box with cut out holes in it. "But first open up my gift." He said, placing the box in your lap. Something was definitely moving inside of it.

"You got me something?" You frowned.

"Of course." He nodded. "Now open it, see what's inside."

He wasn't supposed to get you something. A pact made way back. As children you swore never to buy each other gifts because it was smarter to let other people do it for you, then trade the items later.

"Come on, Y/N. Open it." He said, beaming at you like a fool. However it was you who was the fool. Trent made you look like one for not buying him a gift.

You gasped as the box tipped over in your lap with a set of soft paws pressing down on your thighs.

"Oh my God, Trent?"

There was a collective sigh from the people at the party, seeing as a bundle of orange cuteness had swept into your arms.

"You got me a kitten?" You lifted the baby cat in the air, examining him.

"He looks just like Whiskey, doesn't he?" Trent smiled. "He's from the same shelter so who knows, could be his cousin?"

You were suddenly overwhelmed with tremendous joy, and gratitude. Whiskey's death was the first heartache you had experienced as a child, followed by your grandfather's passing. And now it had been restored, a piece of your heart.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." You threw yourself at Trent, with Whiskey Jr meowing in your hand.

"Alright alright, don't break him." He laughed.

You wiped your tears. "Trent, this is the best gift anyone could have ever gotten me. Now I feel bad for sticking to our pact."

"Don't be." He said, stretching out to pet Whiskey Jr. "I feel like I owe you."

"Owe me?"

He shrugged in response. "I told mom and dad about your situation, having them freak out on you. I didn't think they would force you to move to Manchester of all places. And I didn't think that you would...."

"That I would what?"

He had stopped talking, his hand still scratching the back of Whiskey Jr's ear. His expression was hard to read,  but it became clear when he said, "I didn't think you would stop talking to me."

It made you draw a breath, hearing the sincerity in his voice.

"Trent, I...."

"I mean what's it been, like two months?"

"Three." You corrected. "It was the longest you had gone without speaking to each other, ever. You thought about it and realized the emptiness it had caused. A black hole that just kept growing inside of you.

"Trent, I should tell you...."

You had made a mistake. A big mistake accepting Ruben's job offer. You only took it to fuck with Trent, to get your revenge. However that desire was long gone now.

"Should I take him while you get that?" He asked.

"Huh?"

"Your phone?" He said, followed by the two of you glancing down towards the table before you, your phone rattling it as someone was calling you.

"I'll be right back." You said, excusing yourself, handing Whiskey Jr over to Trent. You recognized the number that was calling you and made sure to slip to somewhere closed off, where no one could hear you.

"Um, hello?"

"Y/N, I need you to come into work today. Can you make it?" It was Ruben on the other end of the line, his voice urgent.

You groaned inwardly. You had specifically scheduled your day off to celebrate your birthday, and the last thing you wanted to do was spend it at work. "I'm sorry Ruben, I actually can't come in today. It's my birthday, remember?"

You had mentioned it last week, when Ruben had asked you to once again come in on short notice. It was clear that as his personal stylist you were expected to be on demand during all hours of the day, every day of the week.

"I really need you to come today Y/N. I'm sorry if I'm bothering you on such an important day, however you did make a commitment to work for me, no?"

You sighed and rubbed your temple. Having only worked for Ruben for three weeks you knew that he was a demanding boss, but this was taking it too far.

"I'm not coming in, Ruben," you said firmly. "If you fire me, then so be it. But I'm not going to ruin my birthday for you."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you braced yourself for the worst. The worst came following the sigh Ruben let out. "Fine, Y/N, as you wish. You're fired."

"Wait what?"

The tone went flat in your ear.

[mikauzoran]

Adrienette Accidental Baby Acquisition: Chapter Thirteen

Read it on AO3: Adrienette Accidental Baby Acquisition: Chapter Thirteen

Summary:

“Who is he?” Adrien inquired, stepping closer to Marinette to peer curiously at the cute bundle in her arms.

Alix tactfully dropped the first bombshell: “His name is Louis. He’s Future Chat Noir’s son.”

Adrien nearly fell over in shock as his legs threatened to give out on him.

“If he’s Chat Noir’s son,” Marinette reasoned crankily, bitter about having her moment interrupted yet again. “why don’t you bring him to this timeline’s Chat Noir for him to take care of?”

With a sadistic smirk, Alix dropped bombshell number two: “Because you’re Louis’s mother.”

Marinette made a strangled noise as she looked frantically between the baby in her arms and the superhero seemingly wrecking Marinette’s five-year plan.

Marinette’s love confession is interrupted when Alix brings Marinette and Chat Noir’s son from the future for Adrien and Marinette to babysit for a week.

Pairing: Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Rating: T

“Please stop crying,” Marinette entreated as she simultaneously bounced Louis and fumbled on her phone for the sewing machine ASMR video on YouTube.

“Here’s the bottle,” Adrien announced, rushing over from the kitchen with it.

“Thanks.” Marinette traded him the phone for the bottle, and Adrien finished the desperate search for the video while Marinette took Louis to the couch and tried to feed him.

Louis did not want to be fed.

He made his will known by screaming his head off, and when his mother attempted to slip the bottle into his mouth anyway, he blew a raspberry and sent formula spraying all over Marinette’s face and shirt.

Adrien set down Marinette’s phone on the coffee table and held out his hands for their child. “Here. I’ll take him. Go wash up.”

There was a moment where she considered sticking it out, but the impulse immediately passed, and she handed Louis over. “Thank you.”

“No worries,” Adrien assured as he took their wailing, flailing child. “Hey, Little Prince. Shhh. You’re okay,” he tried to soothe.

Louis was having none of it.

Read the Rest on AO3.

[fentrashcat]

TW- mention of pet loss

I wrapped my coat around the tiny, weak cat to shield it from the storm as I carried it home. It purred against my chest, making my wonder if it had been a pet, or if it just knew I wanted to help.

The wind whipped my hair around my face as thunder crashed across the sky. The startled cat dug its claws into my stomach, and I hissed from the pain. I adjusted my hold and muttered an apology under my breath as I picked up my pace. The cat yowled as my hurried footsteps jostled it, but I couldn't slow until the door of my apartment slammed shut behind me. I was panting, knowing that I was too weak to be running like that right now. When I was so close to the end. I sank to the floor with my back against the door as I took the cat out of my jacket to examine it. The poor girl was little more than a kitten, covered in fleas and mites, her bones clearly showing through her skin.

Wanting to act fast to avoid an infestation, as soon as I caught my breath, I headed to the kitchen. The kitten laid on my chest, cuddling to my neck as I started to run some warm water in the sink. One dish soap bath, and many cuts to my hands later, I wrapped the kitten in a dish towel and gently dried her face.

"I know darling, I know," I cooed over and over like a mantra to the distressed creature. Now that she was clean, I could see that she was a tawny brown tabby with white on her paws and tip of her tail. "Aren't you a beautiful girl? What should I call you?" I asked, cradling her to my chest as I pulled out my phone. I frowned as my thumb hovered over a number I hadn't called in a while. I shook my head and put my phone away when the kitten yowled in my ear again. "You're right Fawn, I can handle this." I hummed and rocked almost unconsciously as I switched over to a delivery app.

A knock at my door sounded about thirty minutes later, and I opened it to grab the pet store bags. "Thanks for coming out in this storm, here's a little extra for your trouble," I said, trading the bags for some extra cash. That would eat into my grocery budget for the week, but does that really matter? It's likely I only have a few days left anyway. Still clutching the bundled kitten to my chest, I started one handedly putting together a bottle of formula. The kitten ate greedily, purring just as loud as she could, and I finally managed a smile. Now with a full tummy, Fawn started to fall asleep. I put together a box of blankets and set it on a heating pad, settling her in for the night. As I cleaned and bandaged my hand, I could hear Fawn purring away. I set an alarm for her next feeding, and fell into a peaceful sleep as a warm feeling washed over me.

As the days passed, I slowly found myself gaining strength. I was surprised. After Cal left, I knew no one loved me, and thus my days should have been numbered, yet here I was several weeks after I expected my death. Fawn was my constant companion in this time, also regaining her strength and becoming a normal playful kitten.

Many many years passed, and Fawn had been the first of many more rescues to come. Although love could not sustain pets the way it did humans, which broke my heart, their unconditional love was enough to save me. The walls of my apartment were now lined with pictures of my beloved rescues, and pictures of them with the forever homes some went to. As my eyes settled on a longe yellowed picture of Fawn, I smiled sadly. She had passed 106 years ago to the day, and I missed her just as much now as I did the first day after her passing. Before my mind wandered too far, a litter of puppies sprinted past my feet with playful yaps, making my laugh at their antics.

Truly, this is where I was meant to be, the love I had for these creatures, and the love they had for me, my own form of immortality.

Love determines how long you live, some people are in their hundreds, but some don’t even live to be 20.

[x-amount-verbs]

A Helping Hand: Prologue

An Even Trade

Masterpost || Prologue || Part 1

[reader x silco (eventual)] [1.5k words] [no y/n] [during time skip] [henchperson reader] [SFW] [minor body horror]

AO3 Link

Sevika’s unabashed focus is unnerving. She stares at you across the narrow hall you both sit in, waiting to be seen to. Your fingers twitch nervously in your lap— not as many as there should be.

“…This isn’t some fun club, kid.”

You hate when she calls you that. She’s, what, six years older? Seven? You’re not a child. Your eyes raise just enough to catch hers, before glaring down at your lap again. At the bundle of fabric swaddled around your right hand. …What’s left of it, anyway. You haven’t been brave enough to check. Honestly, part of you is distantly impressed that you’re still conscious, given that you can’t feel most of your right arm, but you chalk that up to the dubious variant of shimmer that was jammed into it as soon as the damage was noticed. While you were still in shock. Are you still in shock?

“Don’t think you’re replacing me, either. You did your duty, that doesn’t mean you get a promotion-”

“I don’t want a promotion.” That may be just a bit of a lie. You wouldn’t mind a change of scenery, after sacrificing life and literal limb for the guy. Hell, it’d be nice to have a few weeks off, at the very least. And— “I just want a hand.”

Her lip curls in a sarcastic smirk at your wording. As if she’s about to sneer with what?

You roll your eyes. “Ha. Ha.” Your tone is flat, dry and unamused.

“Oh you’ll get one.” Theoretically words of assurance, but there’s no comfort in her tone. If anything, there’s an edge of warning. Some sort of be careful what you wish for.

Well fuck that: you’re wishing for a hand.

—

It wasn’t entirely intentional, saving Silco’s life, but you’re happy to let people think it was. If you’d known your hand would get blown to bits, not just pinching a finger or two, you might’ve taken more time to make the decision.

…Eh, fuck it, you still would’ve done what you did. Not for morals - you’d deny those claims in the hopes you were smarter than that - but because you were too damn impulsive for your own good. Amazing you’d survived, pulling a stunt like that. Maybe more amazing that the assassin had the balls to attempt to shoot Silco in his own club. You’d grabbed for the barrel of the weapon, not realizing the man’s target, and not realizing exactly how far along in the firing process he was. Definitely not thinking he might be shooting with live explosive rounds.

Your jaw is tight, breath straining to remain even as your good hand clenches over and over again where it’s strapped to your seat. Sweat beads on your forehead, a miserable headache pounding behind your eyes, but you make yourself look.

It’s like you’re suddenly on one of those little dinghies you’ve seen in the river Pilt, one of the ones bobbing desperately against the wake of much larger ships, tossed about in the rolling waves. Thank the goddess you’re seated, because the bizarre sense of you and not-you upon seeing the hand throws you completely off-balance. Your fingers twitch-

“Stop that. I’m not done.”

“Sorry,” you mumble, dumbly. Now that you’ve looked, you can’t stop looking. The strange contraption is so much cleaner than you’d expected.

When Sevika said you’d get a hand, you assumed (rather optimistically) that it would be like hers, or Ran’s. Plain metal, built for function but not beauty. Running on either chemtech or shimmer. But this is something… between the two? Beyond the two? Custom built, finely crafted. Way too fucking expensive for you to ever afford on your own— but good thing the man you saved is filthy fucking rich. And good thing his pet doctor has a passion project for creating extra limbs.

As the Doctor raises a scalpel to your forearm, you quickly turn away. Seeing it, when you can’t feel it, will only lead to unnecessary movements. …Why didn’t he just sedate you? The anesthetic has been good, yes, but being awake for the final installation feels… cruel, somehow. Awake for the measurements, the fittings, the one-on-one tests over the last few weeks, wherein you’d had a plethora of organic and inorganic compounds flushed through your system— those seemed fair. Not always pleasant, but fair. He’d had questions to ask, nerve damage to evaluate, and you had to answer them. Staring at the mangled flesh left after the accident was… not great. But necessary.

You can’t feel the pinch of skin as the Doctor tightens the straps on your off arm, but just knowing he’s doing it in your peripheral vision puts you on edge. Whatever he’s doing, it’s going to make you—

“Fuck-” Your body spasms at the sudden shock to your nerves, hissing and gritting your teeth, eyes watering as sensation bores into your bones.

“Stay still.”

That guy has no fucking right to demand that, not with what he’s doing. He sure as hell wouldn’t be able to sit still through this.

You can feel the pain traversing your arm, zipping through muscles and tendons - bones? veins? - as receptors bind together, webs of nerves reconnected through the brute force of… it can’t be just chemistry. Is this chemistry? Alchemy, maybe. Fuck: dark fucking magic, feels like.

Ow ow ow fucking ow—

Short sharp gasps break your breath into pieces, tears overflowing even as you try to blink them away. You’re not sad, it’s not even just the pain, you’re just— you feel so much, so suddenly. Sensation is overwhelming in a place you haven’t properly felt in weeks. You feel things from the inside out, starting in the marrow of your arm and radiating out to feel every vibration jarring you, every minuscule ridge of texture. There’s no possible way to stay still, so maybe it’s a good thing you’re strapped down, if he’s still got that scalpel out. Legs thrash at their bindings as well, jaw locking up.

“This may take some time…”

Your response is chattering teeth and a distressed moan, skin fading to a buzzing numbness as the muscles beneath claw fiber-to-fiber, hooking and weaving themselves together. You shouldn’t be able to feel this, you must be hallucinating, feeling the individual cells of blood flowing through veins and tubing and wires, all cobbled together. An impossible feat. You’ve never tried modifications like this before, never had invasive chemtech, and this feels as invasive as it gets. Grafted straight into your nervous system.

Your sense of time dilates, compresses, vision blurred and then gone white as you lose the ability to process, for however long, everything happening without. Within, you are so focused on your body attempting to assimilate the modification, willing it not to reject the thing that has been essentially bonded into you.

—

Mind blank, you surface however many hours later, mouth parched and throat raw, eyes dry and burning. Your whole right side is aching. It was only supposed to be your hand, but everything from your ribs to your neck - that whole half of your torso - is one heavy throbbing pain.

The Doctor is snapping his fingers before you, trying to pull you from your reverie, and you blink a few times. Just the act of blinking stings.

“Flex.”

You do as you’re told, but frown. You feel the muscles in your arm, and painfully so, but— You glance down at the hand, once again experiencing the strangest you-but-not feeling upon seeing it. Hand open. Closed. It moves the way you’re trying to make it go, but the sensations that had been so overwhelming earlier have retreated. You feel the muscles under your skin, but not the… the presence of it. Patting your hand down against the armrest is strange. The pressure on the outside is nonexistent, but deep within you can feel the jolt when you can’t move any further. Tapping your fingers radiates a vibration into the deep tissue, but you can’t feel the texture of the armrest.

“I don’t have… skin.” Your voice comes out hoarse, and you struggle to swallow. It’s not like the skin thing is a surprise to you; it’s a prosthesis - a prosthetic limb - it’s just the bizarre polymer and metal and ceramic; there’s no reason you should feel sensation, but you thought you had earlier.

“Hold.” The Doctor presents you with, what, a ball? Looks simple enough.

He must’ve undone the bindings on that arm while you were lost in sensory processing. You have enough range of movement to reach forward and take the object— and promptly drop it. It’s impossible to gauge the strength of your grip. When he presents it again, you grab it tight enough that you can feel the vibrations as the planes of your fingers’ joints roll against the sphere.

The Doctor makes another note.

“Before, I—” You lose your words to a bout of coughing. Wheezing a plea for water, you instinctively cover your mouth with the free hand, and wince at the heavy weight slapping against your mouth, lip splitting as it hits teeth.

“You’ll have to work on control.”

Apparently.

—

[next part]

[Guess who’s got a multichap on their hands?? That’s right: it’s this gal! I know this prologue has a grand total of zero Silco, but part one? 👀 ooh boy. This story is all about touch starvation, y’all.

If you want to be kept up to speed, I’ll probably end up making a tag list in a response post to whoever asks me about it first 😅 I don’t exactly plan ahead. A better way to guarantee you get notifications is to subscribe to the fic on ao3. While you’re there, I wouldn’t mind a comment if you’re so inclined 👉👈 And always feel free to boost this post! I love notes, they fill me with writer juice! ❤️ - verbs]

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

omg omg im like vibrating i didn't see that you opened up a tea shop!!! congratulations on your new milestone wifi!!!

would i be able to get a packaged loose leaf oolong tea with maple syurup and sugar cubes with the enameled pottery set and no sweet treat on the side please? :3c -🍡

Requests for this event are CLOSED!!

No sweet treats? Well, I'm sure your tea alone will be sweet enough to satisfy!

Let's see what this wish entails...

~ * ~

Childhood Friends AU Headcanons, inspired by the words "Brushing" and "Napping", set in Liyue

Fluff

Childhood Friends AU- An AU where you were best friends with Childe when he was still Ajax

Warnings for allusions to fear and crying

~ * ~

-You and Ajax have been friends for a very, VERY long time -When you were young the two of you had been near-inseparable, constantly coming over to each other’s houses and staying for meals and exploring Snezhnaya together <33 -One could even call you best friends! And you titled each other that in earnest -Of course you’ve grown more apart over the years (you pinpointed it a few days after Ajax’s 14th birthday) but even as he was recruited into the Fatui, you had both still written letters to each other back and forth -This continued into adulthood, despite both of you taking wildly different paths in life, him as a brutal warrior and you as a peaceful researcher. Yet still you traded letters a few times every month, signing the parchment with your own special flairs -So when a few months went by with letters from Ajax being unusually sparse (aka completely absent), you began to worry -It was you who put your foot down and decided to take a small trip to Liyue, both as a means to further your research and check up on Ajax -Or Tartaglia, you suppose, as was his Harbinger name. But he never liked you calling him that anyways. Said it hurt to see you acting so formal around him -Liyue is bustling when you arrive, much more so than Snezhnaya, and you find yourself acquainted with a Funeral Parlor consultant who invited you for tea named Zhongli, who was charming if a little mysteriously knowledgeable -Much more knowledgeable than you, apparently, as he looked surprised when you had mentioned your name, asking if you were from Snezhnaya to which you confirm -Looking quickly left and right, he asks you to follow him, under the reassurance that there was nothing nefarious planned, and when you shrug and agree he makes quick work of the distance to his house with you in tow -Once inside and with the doors securely locked, Zhongli makes a beeline for a room in the back and knocks gently, asking if he can come in, because he brought whoever was inside someone to see them -You assume the “someone” is you, curiosity and nervousness bubbling into a tense bundle of nerves in your stomach -He tugs you inside, and presents you to a large, fluffy, ginger-haired… thing. Surprisingly, you’re only confused for a split second as Zhongli begins to talk a mile a minute, attempting to explain something -Ajax. You’re absolutely certain of it. You can’t pinpoint exactly why you’re so sure- perhaps the ginger hair with a streak of white or the oceanic color of the creature’s eye, laced with worry and fear, tipped you off- but you know without a shadow of a doubt that this is Ajax -Some version of Ajax, at least. Zhongli calls him “Childe”, which you assume is a codename of sorts, and he’s asking you almost desperately to not be frightened of him -You hold a hand up to speak -“I can never be afraid of Ajax, no matter what form he’s in” is all you say as you hug the Abyssal beast tightly, and you feel him sag in relief and let out a low croon in response, wrapping his arms tightly around you -Zhongli exhales, letting out a breath he’d been holding as his heart rate slows, thanking Celestia that you’re not senselessly screaming at the sight of Childe. With a nod he smartly steps out of the room, leaving you to be reunited with your Ajax -You rake your hands through Ajax’s new fluff, a gentle shade of lavender around his shoulders, murmuring to him gently before moving to his hair -He eats up your attention, craning his head so your fingers hit the best spots and purring with delight, a gentle vibration running through your body -But when you ask him what happened, he stops purring and begins to shake, letting out heartbreaking whimpers and cries, and you quickly hush and reassure him -“Hey, hey it’s alright. You don’t have to tell me. I’m fine with not knowing” -You’re not fine with not knowing. But that’s not important -Instead you turn, eyes searching the room before landing on a brush, and you stretch to grab it. Ajax hooks a claw onto your shirt when he feels you move, and when you retract your hand with the brush he

buries his face into your shoulder with a quiet whine -You bring the brush up to his hair and sink it into his ginger locks, pulling it gently back with a flick of your wrist and weaving it in between his horns. He momentarily stiffens, then lets out a soft sigh as his body relaxes at the sensation -You continue brushing his hair, a smile twitching on your face when Ajax’s purrs resume, rumbling up from his chest and going from near-silent to twice as strong as before. With every stroke of the brush he nuzzles himself further into your shoulder, arms wrapped loosely around your waist -When his hair is smooth and soft as silk, you move to the fluff near his neck, and his purrs hitch in surprise before rumbling again with surprising volume, now interspersed with coos and trills of bliss -It’s only when he starts blinking in exhaustion that his small chirps falter, leaning his weight onto you and murmuring sleepily. He seems to melt against you, body going limp with sleep, and you shake him slightly to prevent yourself from getting trapped under him -Ajax lets out a dazed chitter, slowly pushing himself off you so you can sit up. He sways even though he’s also sitting, and you can see his pearlescent eye slipping shut and snapping open again, over and over -His response when you ask him if he’s tired is a drowsy coo, and he circles behind you and bumps your back with his head, urging you forward to a bundle of blankets and pillows in the corner -You fall to your knees, cushioned by the soft cushions, and Ajax steps delicately over and into the nest-like structure, before settling and curling himself around you -Your own eyes beginning to droop, you lay beside him and press yourself against his armored chest, feeling a heavy arm drop around your shoulders -With a quiet sigh you snuggle closer, hooking your own hands in the fabric of Ajax’s scarf, a habit you picked up years ago as a way of not losing him in a crowd -Ajax lets out a sleepy croon at the sight of your hand tangled in his scarf, curiously joyful upon seeing a remnant of his childhood. Despite growing older, your heart doesn’t seem to have changed much -He watches you, eye barely open, as you drift off into slumber, and reaches up slowly to stroke your hair. His claws gently threading through the tangles makes you hum and smush yourself against him, and he trills in quiet delight -Ajax looks at you, his best friend, longingly before nuzzling his head into your hair. Perhaps, now that you’re here, he can finally give you the letter, blessed with the phrase “I love you”, that he intended to send so long ago

[valiantxunion]

Karol frowned to himself at the dead man walking comment but he chose not to bring attention to it at the moment. No, he was much more occupied with wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to bring himself the warmth that his body was now lacking due to the rain. He quietly placed his bag and the now soaked prey by the door before pulling his white and green vest off of his body and placing it on the floor by the door. After removing his boots as well, it left him in only his pants and his skin tight black shirt he wore beneath.

He thankfully takes the blanket from Raven and wraps it around himself with a shiver. “Thanks…” He mumbled before quickly taking another look around the house. There had to be other blankets in the house for Raven to use as well. After a moment, he spots a small closet in the corner and makes a beeline for it. “Wanna check under the bed for more blankets while I check in here?” 

If he didn’t find anything, he briefly hoped that Raven didn’t have an issue with sharing the blanket. He really didn’t want Raven to get sick just because he didn’t have anything to bundle up with. Especially since this was sort of Karol’s fault that they were lost anyway. It was becoming increasingly clear that Raven wasn’t exactly pushing to take care of himself and that definitely made Karol anxious. Was he doing it because Karol was a kid or because Raven still felt bad about what he did…?

Karol managed to find a sheet within the closet but it was rather thin and definitely didn’t smell the greatest when Karol pulled it out. Granted, neither did the blanket he currently had hanging off of his shoulders. “I found this but I’m not sure it’ll be enough to keep you totally warm…” 

As he moved over to the bed, he pulled another thin sheet off of the mattress and examined them both thoroughly. Maybe by combining them, it would be enough for Raven? As he worked on folding the blankets on top of each other, he glanced over at the older man, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Were you able to find anything? This will probably work but it’s still pretty thin, so I’m not sure. I know you don’t do well with the cold so if you want to trade blankets, we can.” 

Why, indeed? Raven still didn't have a good answer other than the nagging thought of needing to punish himself. Thankfully, the thought went back where it belonged before too long as Karol set to the task of picking the lock. It didn't surprise him in the slightest that Karol had the skills he did. The kid had been a part of many guilds before making Brave Vesperia. Still, he imagined the boy's hands probably weren't having the easiest time even while gloved. All the rain coming down didn't make things easy. Before Raven could offer to try and shield some of the rain away with his coat, even though it hadn't done him any good, Karol managed to accomplish their goal.

Raven joined Karol in looking inside. Whoever used to live there sure hadn't been there in a long time. Thankfully, as Karol was quick to point out, there were no skeletons. As Raven stepped inside, wringing out his hair as best he could before setting to work on wringing out his coat, he found himself nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, no kiddin'. Though I guess technically I fill that whole 'dead body' quota," he joked. Mostly just a jab at himself. No sense in not doing that much when the secret of his being a dead man walking was already out in the open air.

What were they meant to do now? They needed a fire if they wanted any hope of getting warm, but the same thought occurred to him in relation to the firewood. Hard to make use of it with them both being soaked as they were. Maybe there were blankets or something they could make use of. Not a perfect solution, but it would have been better than nothing.

A shiver rolled through him, giving him enough incentive to close the door at last so no rain got in. Of all the times for Rita not to be present. Instinctively, he brought his arms around himself as best he could. Cold. He imagined Karol was just as cold as he was, though. Had to take care of him first.

Blue eyes darted around the little house, looking for possible options all the while. Well... no one lived here now, so surely they wouldn't mind if they used their stuff. Blanket on the bed included.

"Well, might as well make use'a what we got," Raven said. He moved forward, taking a moment to lay his coat out to dry on a nearby chair before going toward the bed, and retrieved the blanket that was laid out on it. Then, he held it out to Karol. "Ain't much, but I imagine this'll help ya stay a little warmer. Or at least help ya get a little more dry. Maybe we can see if there's anything else around."

[honey-milk-depresso]

a chongyun mc with the demon bros (obey me) maybe? :0

btw, love the content you post, keep up the good work ! <3

An honourable individual with a positive mindset, you take your duties seriously, like exorcism, and performs them with a stoic and composed personality, although not always.

Your excessive positive energy, however, terrifies all spirits in range and have a disdain towards your positive energy, considering it to be a cheap trick, and trains despite this boon in the event that a spirit resists his excessive energy.

And unfortunately, when you can't suppress the feelings of warmness, you become illogical, unusually friendly and too excited.

**I'm sorry I only did the first 4 brothers ;-;;;;;;

Obey Me The calm but easily flustered exorcist, s/o (Chongyun)

Lucifer

He's impressed by your hard work and dedication you put into your tasks, with poise and logic. Just the way he likes it.

Lucifer appreciates the fact that you're usually calm; because everyone else is, well, not, and it annoys him to no end when a problem comes knocking at the door of the House of Lamentation.

But, that's only usually.

For some reason, whenever you get flustered, unsure, timid, anxious, or whatever, you turn a full 180.

But Lucifer finds it quite cute when you go into that manic state of yours. It's amusing to see you in a personality no one would usually see.

He only flusters you behind closed doors since he can't have you fainting all of a sudden in the public.

As you blush profusely at his sudden proposal in his office, he smirks. "What? Can handle the heat, darling?~" <3

Mammon

He thought you were the opposite of him at first. You were calm and poised, unwavering and diligent in your work. Even he admits that you're a real hard worker.

And he still remembered the times where the ghosts tried haunting them, and you worked hard to exorcise them, though they immediately went back to where they came from because of your positive energy, causing you to grumble.

Meanwhile, Mammon and Levi were screaming Hallelujah as they were finally gone, and thanked you although you told them you did absolutely nothing.

But when Mammon sees the flustered, timid side of you, he snorts. You look ridiculous!! But he gets flustered back when you approach him so affectionately like an airhead. "W-What?! W-why are clinging me?! Um!!"

He fainted along with you on his bed. <3

Leviathan

You're an exorcist?! THAT'S SO COOL!!

He's quite envious of how cool you are, but you remind him so much of this anime and the main character was like- okay, he'll stop rambling-

But he finds it cool whenever you practice exorcism, and you look so cool doing it! You're really calm and collected, no ghost can stand in your way!! :DD

You legit scared them off with your presence alone, there's gotta be exorcism energy resonating in you! You told him you didn't even get to perform an exorcism fully and that it was just your positive energy scaring them off, and that you seriously did nothing.

Well, it's fine, s/o. You still scared them off, so it should be fine-

But Levi would later figure out your flustered side. The side where you become a bundle of raw, haywire emotions that just burst, making you become illogical in your judgements, abnormally overjoyed and a complete airhead.

And he thought he would be the only one like that. He remembers when you stepped in on him swimming without his shirt on- and-

"OH MY GOD, S/O! DID YOU JUST FAINT?! HOLD ON, I'M HERE TO SAVE YOUUUU-" <3

Satan

Oh shit, I love you book boy for cats-

Satan is impressed by your diligence in practising exorcism, and how you conduct them.

He'd like to observe how you do it! Maybe he can do it, too. ^^ For what? Oh, it's not to use against Lucifer as a way to say he's not cleansed and he needs that hahaha, what makes you think that?

Anyways, Satan appreciates that you're a calm person, he needs someone calm and NOT annoying and they're logical around him. Satan really enjoys your company, and he wouldn't trade it for the world. Besides, he wouldn't ever miss out on your flustered side.

That's right, he loves your flustered, completely wavered, illogical self.

It's so adorable, he just wants to just drink in the sight and tease you about it.

In fact, he'll tease you to get you flustered. And like Lucifer, only behind closed doors because he can't have you dying on the floor in public.

As you succumb to your flustered feeling and tried to cover your embarrassed face, Satan hold them and uncovered them, before he smirked back. "What? Cat got your tongue?~" <3

Reblogs help! ^^

[bonbonthedragon]

Meeting You Changed Me (14)

Dad!bakugou x fem!reader

A series

Summary: When Bakugou leaves an ugly divorce, leaving him as a single dad he never can imagine himself finding love again, not when he was never actually in love. People manipulate and lie and he can’t trust anyone but those close to him and now protect what he has left. But maybe...just maybe he can give her a chance.

Warnings: mentioned of drugs, sexual abuse, fluff, cursing, trade, just a lot of heads up bc I warned y’all this would get nasty

Note: haha here’s this early I didn’t even read it over, I’ll do it in the morning- after the fucking week I have had I’m going to go take a long ass nape bc I’m tired so now bye love y’all

Series Masterlist

“Nooooo”

“Come on, kid-“

“I wan’ Miss (L/n)! Why can’t she watch me?”

“Because I’m sure she’s busy right now. Now should we get the purple ones or pink? Or both?”

Tatsumi only pouted “I wanna come wif’”

Bakugou sighed, shaking his head “no, I can’t have you come to work with me today. Shitty hair won’t be there, he’s on patrol and I have a important private meeting. I’ll make it up to you, but I’m in a real hurry and need to decide if I should get purple or pink for her.”

“Those are Purple hyacinth, they symbolize forgiveness. And The Freesias are trust and friendship. Looks like you have a wound to stitch up with a close friend?” A man said, watering the pot beside bakugou

Bakugou looked down, seeing what he presumed was the owner of the shop. He hummed, annoyed and defeated “yeah.”

“Maybe both?” He suggested “I’m sure anyone would agree the colors do well together anyway.” He looked up at tatsumi, who was tucked into bakugou arms. The old man smiled, bringing his hand up to the little one as a sunflower began to grow from his palm. Tatsumis eyes widened and he smiled, taking it and picking it off the mans hand.

“Tank’ you!”

He nodded, going back to bakugou “are you ready to check out? If you’d like, I can also arrange them for you in a nice vase? Or wrapped at the stems?”

The blond grunted, taking both bouquets and heading toward the counter, where the owner followed. He watched as the man took the flowers and mixed them together. Behind him he took some scissors and cut the stems, asking tatsumi for a ribbon choice and took which ever the boy picked. He wrapped them up to hold into a colorful bundle and then slid bakugou a small card and pen. Bakugou looked down at it and furrowed his brows. He bent down so tatsumi could reach the counter and take the pen to write on the small paper.

“Go at it kid”

Tatsumi made a happy noise and began to scribble all over it, drawing some attempted stars and doodles bakugou couldn’t make out. He then wrote his name so big it nearly took up all the room. He handed his father the pen and the hero wrote his name down, then a small note on it.

-bakugou

He hesitated to write more, but those two words were enough for now. So he folded it and took the colorful bundle, gently tucking the card inside. He payed and thanked the old man, walking out and across the street, where his next destination just so happen to be close. Tatsuim played with the sun flower, not having realized he was at the daycare door and being set down until his feet hit the ground. He froze and then looked up, seeing where he was and his teacher next bakugou. His shoulders slumped and he looked to his father. Bakugou smiled his best and went to kiss the little ones cheek, to which tatsumi kissed his nose back. Well at least that meant the kid wasn’t completely done with him, he was still willing to give him face kisses.

“I’ll see you later squirt”

Tatsumi waved at him and went to cling to the teacher, where she laughed and waved to bakugou as well. He waved too, about to turn around before he stopped, watching tatsumi head into his classroom. He went up to the counter and pulled out his phone, pulling up

(Y/n)s contact.

“How may I help you?” The front woman asked

“Need to make a new emergency contact”

—

Bakugou walked along the sidewalk, tugging at his coat while a gust of wind went by. Fucking winter. He looked down at the flowers then at the cafe up ahead. His heart began to race and he took some deep breaths as he neared the shop. When he came up, he noticed the sign saying closed, normally it was open, even this early in the morning. He looked around then held a hand to the glass as he peeked inside. The lights were off and the drawing on the chalk board hadn’t changed. Chairs were upside down on tables but pastries were still out in the glass when they normally should ah e been put up. Worry filled him, normally she was so president about her shop.

Fuck this was his doing.

Before he could even go up the steps, a man spoke behind him, a voice he had heard before. When he turned, he saw the same old man he’s seen in the cafe a few times, wearing a suit and brown Fedora. The man sighed.

“I don’t know why she’s closed, I thought maybe it was your doing but seeing as your here it looks like she’s just gone.” He tipped his hat at bakugou “oh I’m Akimasa by the way. I’ve been coming here since the shop opened.”

Bakugou nodded back “bakugou Katsuki…uh- do you know why she’s closed…by any chance?”

The man shook his head “I don’t. Though it’s nice to finally meet you. It’s nice to finally see that girl give a real smile, and she’s been giving that since you arrived with your son.” He smiled, tipping his hat again “well I better be off, nice to meet our No.2 hero and know my favorite barista is in good hands” and he was gone.

Bakugou watched him turn the corner and looked back down at the flowers. ‘It’s nice to finally see that girl give a real smile, and she’s been giving that since you arrived with your son.’ The words echoed in his head, making his own smile threaten to take over his lips. Though, he then remembered what Naomasa said last night, and he frowned. His shifted back up to the stairs on the side of the cafe and to the front door. As he went up, something in the atmosphere felt off. He brushed the uneasy ness off as anxiety and continued up. He knocked.

The knob jiggled and (y/n) appeared in the doorway. His shoulders tensed when she did, but taking in her appearance, they slumped. She was back in the same state as yesterday, hair all over and looking exhausted. She was in sweats and a shirt, posture looking drained. Even with this, she seemed to perk at his visit, but not so much as in content, but fear. He was going to blame it on himself, telling himself he shouldn’t have come but when his eyes traveled to take her in, he stilled. When he did, (y/n) did too, gasping silently and going behind the door to put on a jacket quickly. She wrapped the torso around herself like a cardigan and then finally met his eyes, smile clearly forced. Her brows were furrowed in worry but her eyes filled with relief. He was getting mixed signals, but after what he witnessed his body only filled with rage. Under her jacket were bruises, her once exposed arms were littered in blue and purple.

His eyes came to meet hers again, he frowned “what happen-“

“I didn’t expect to see you-“ she immediately interrupted “I-“ her body shifted uncomfortably, going to lean against the door frame, head angled awkwardly “about last night…”

He held up a hand, stopping her “no I-“ his eyes flickered to her arms again, searching for other wounds, he traveled back up “uh…no that was on me. Last night I was being fucking foolish and I wanted to come apologize. I shouldn’t have done that and I clearly scared you. I’m sorry”

She stiffened, seeming uneasy about the apology, like she wasn’t used to it. After a few moments she turned her head, as if checking her surroundings. As she did, bakugous chest burned and he sucked in a sharp breath. The most ugly bruise was on her neck, it was green and blue and purple and- “it’s okay” she finally spoke, quickly turning her head back, tugging on the collar of her jacket “really it was my fault. Thank you for the apology but I shouldn’t have been so dramatic-yeah I- I over reacted so please don’t feel bad-“ something in the house thudded, and he saw her jump “o-o-oh Aki,” she chuckled, almost a forced laugh “she’s in a playful mood- I should go, don’t want her knocking down any furniture” just as she was about to back away, bakugou held up the flowers, making her pause. She stuttered.

“For you, really, it wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you into something like that or corner you. It was fucked up. Just- I hope this can do as a apology for my actions and…not scare you off from me…” he finally said, trying hard to ignore what he all witnessed “tatsumi really likes you and I- I uh- enjoy your company too…”

(Y/n) blinked at the gift and she eased up, eyes softening, almost as if she was about to cry. She took in a deep breath, forcing a smile and took them “thank you this- it means a lot. I…like being with you two too. Thank you.” Something in her apartment fell, sounding like a tin or something and it made her gasp, jumping back and eyes back into a panic. She whipped back around and chuckled dryly, closing the door “thank you for stopping by but I should really get going. You should too, bye bakugou-san” and she closed the door.

He stood there for a few seconds, staring at the red door. He looked in the side window, but there was nothing. Grunting, he went down the steps, fist tight at his sides as small pops emitted inside his balled up palms. His mind screamed at him to turn around and open that damn door because no way was she alone in that house. But another voice told him to stand down, that if he didn’t she would be in more trouble and something bad might happen. He didn’t know what, but those answers had to be solved when he saw Naomasa.

He huffed when he thought about the wait of the train to his agency. Getting there soon wouldn’t make the appointment sooner but it would calm his nerves knowing he would be there before the detective arrived. Looking around, he found a public bathroom and tugged at his duffel bag.

He walked out, putting on his mask and stuffing his coat into his bag and adjusting his collar. Gasp sounded from behind him and he scoffed. He wasn’t about to deal with fans right now, he clutched his bag and began to run, jumping into the air and setting off his quirk. It was more difficult it the frigid air but it felt nice, cold enough for his head think about it and not (y/n) or what could be happening there. He growled just thinking about it, trying hard not to turn back. If what he saw on her background and records the other night was worse than he thought, or had more behind it then he wasn’t going to risk her safety right now. He flew through the air, jumping off building after building and jumping as far as he could as his blast boost him across the city.

—

“DynaMight”

Bakugou jerked his head from his computer, looking at the small inter calm on his desk and clicked his buzzer to answer “yea?”

“Mr. Naomasa is here”

“Send him up” he replied, taking his hand off the buzzer and standing up, taking off his mask. Naomasa was updated on everything bakugou knew about (y/n), why he knew her and his intended relations, so this shouldn’t be too long of a meeting. He went over to the door, chest heaving and right as he got to it, the detective was there. Bakugou allowed him in and immediately shut the door behind him, making the other man turn and quirk a brow.

Bakugous jaw clenched at his next words, “she was covered in fucking bruises this morning.” He lifted his hands to his neck, demonstrating a choking method “she had bruises the shape of fucking hand prints around her goddamn neck. Why the hell is that? You said you did a background check on her, so if something in those goddamn files doesn’t tell me even a hint of who did that to her I’m going to murder someone” he seethed. His chest was blazing, eyes squinted at the brunette, who had his brows raised and nodded. Bakugou grunted, gesturing to the seat across his desks as he went to his own.

He sat down, glaring at the man across from him who laid out file after file onto his large desk. He opened a few and scanned them before handing one to bakugou, he opened it. In it was a picture of a very young (y/n), smiling at the camera. He almost smiled too, loving seeing her so happy.

“Alright,” Naomasa began, “you wanted to know everything so let’s start here, make sense of her quirk-“

“Yeah I know all about that. What’s it gotta go with this?”

“Because it just does, pay attention. At age 15 she already had full ride scholarships to the American school, Harvard University, and Japanese school, Kyoto University.” Bakugou raised his eyebrows at that. Those were two very prestigious schools, and difficult to get into. “That right there is a indicator of her quirk. Clearly it’s put to use in her academic career.” He set a small print out of information on her quirk, memory, of how it worked and what it could do. As bakugou looked it down, the man talked. It said all she had, nothing too new. He then watched as a new picture appeared on the file when Naomasa turned the page. It was of a baby boy, who had brown hair and bright blue eyes. “This, this is her late son, Ren (L/n), who was born deaf. Just after she turned 16, he was born, she lost her scholarship due to this and the school rejected her, resulting in her moving high schools. Here’s where everything ties in.” He pulled out another file, opening it to turn to...a carbon copy of Ren? But older? His eyes shifted to the name and he growled. “His name is Asher Rays, he’s actually someone we have been looking into for years now. He’s a Mafia boss and runs multiple different pallets. He’s in the skin trade-“

“The hell does that mean?” The blond asked

The brunette tilted his head to the side, tapping on a separate, much fuller file “sells people. Prostitutes, woman and men who get sold for sex all over the country. This man runs his own, amongst many, sex slaves. As well as a drug lord, and just plain old dirty money. He’s someone you don’t mess with and we keep our hands off him for a reason, for now at least. There’s too many Important people who know him and work with him that if we make a move, too many lives are at risk. This man, this villain, is this kids father. It’s his only kid too”

Bakugou wanted to be surprised, really, but after he said that name is mind flashed to the card sent to (y/n)s house by an ‘Asher’. He nodded for him to keep going.

“We believe (L/n) (Y/n) was victim to his abuse, but we believe he assaulted her for a reason. He would have only been 19 at the time he got her pregnant but his antics date back to him only being 18.” He turned a page of Ashers file “ashers quirk, prints. He can trace anybody’s foot prints from the last 168 hours, so a week. Which probably is one of the reasons why he’s so good at what he does.” He closed the file, bringing another up from the stack he brought, this one being Ren. “Combining (L/n)s quirk and Rays, Rens quirk is Track. Ren can trace anybody from the last 168 hours down to how many breaths they took from the last time he saw them. If he was provided evidence, all he had to do was touch some part of their DNA on it and he could activate this.” He shoved the few files up to bakugou, continuing to talk as he looked them over “now, there was never a report of rape or a rape kit after she became pregnant, she only filed as the father wasn’t involved and she and her family would be the primary care takers of the child. Just three years after Ren was born, he had a doctors visit confirming his quirk was showing. At four, it was put in records what he could do.” He pointed at a report “3 hours and 17 minutes after that report went into the computer, the hospital had a problem with their system. After that, mail records were shown to have a Asher to a ‘Starbright’, or (L/n), began to arrive at her house. Checks of nearly 50,000 dollars 4 times a year were sent and put into (L/n)s checking. This continues.”

“What is he doing now?”

“Now, now we have had undercover hero’s take care of him, pulling in information. But I want to get back to Ren. Just a year ago he died in a cross fire with police and a robber-“

“Yeah...I know just- move on”

“The man robbing the home, his primary objective was to take Ren. This man,” he opened another folder, showing the large man bakugou had saw on the tapes. Naomasa put a fingers on the picture, just above the mans arm on the tattoo “has the tattoo that belongs to Rays group. If you have this, you belong to him, you are apart of his mafia in a way. This man worked for Ray, he was taking the kid to his boss. We think that since Ren is his only child, even compared to being involved in sex trade, he was born for a reason. He was planned. He was only born so they could have the perfect quirk at their hands. In this case, Ren had a strong quirk, it would help him track people down, anybody. Maybe even get dirt on pro heros and have them at his mercy. He could find and take anybody or kill anybody he wanted. He has hackers at his mercy, he probably has shit on everyone in Tokyo and you don’t even know if your in the books or not. And she’s the heart of it all. They are talking, the most recent transaction was yesterday at near midnight at a atm at the bank. He is here, in the city. Hawks still works undercover with the help of clocking technology, his recent reports say Asher Ray has mentioned Ren and (L/n) recently and then he began to be more active in (L/n)s life again, since the attack on her son. We sent an officer to her work but she refused to listen. We are worried he might take her, force himself on her again. There’s more but that’s all I can do to wrap it up, I’m on a tight schedule. But Bakugou, if you know her, don’t act. Your just going to put her in further danger, this man has eyes everywhere, be carful with what you do. Though, it’s good to have someone looking out for her, we want to keep as many people safe as possible. But if she’s closely involved with one of our most wanted criminals, it could help us tremendously to catch him sooner.”

Bakugou gritted his teeth, looking up at the man with fiery eyes, scowling “ya want to use her as bait?” He seethed

“N-no just-“ he sighed “I’m saying this is a big lead. “

He fought the urge to flip the goddamn table. “What about the fucking marks, Hah? The bruises?” he pounded his fist on the wood “she was fucking choked! how the hell are you helping your citizens if she’s clearly in danger and suffering? Hah? What the hell?” He stood abruptly “and you want me to do what? Nothing? Fuck that shit, I’m going to go over there now and deal with that bastard if he’s the one there.” Just before he stepped back, Naomasa reached across the table, grabbing his arm. Bakugou growled, but stopped when he saw the fear in the mans eyes, ones he hasnt seen in him since AllMight fallen from All For One

“Please. Don’t get involved. You’ll only makes things worse. I risked enough talking with you today. If you do, she’ll be killed. This isn’t some wannabe villain. This man kills people like flies. He doesn’t care if your sick, young or old, he will send you to a brutal death. I know it sounds strange but I can’t also put my own friends and colleagues and our No.2 in danger. This man might be out for one girl, but it’s his girl. You don’t touch his girl. And bakugou, you have been with her a lot from what you have told me, I suggest you step back. Think of Tatsumi. Please listen when I say Ray doesn’t show mercy. He has a goal and I don’t think he plans to let even a top hero get in the way. Especially if you have shown interest.”

-

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[lilyofthestyx]

Headcanons about each of the lords (+the Duke if you're writing about him) if they ever happen to adopt a little child?

THANK YOU ANON MY THE UNIVERSE BLESS YOU WITH PILLOWS THAT ARE COLD ON BOTH SIDES

okay okay okay okay this has definitely been on my mind so lets get into the thick of it

Alcina Dimitrescu

(im starting off with alcina for obvious reasons)

Alcina would be on the way to the church with the slimy moron, the demented doll, that disgusting manthing and Mother Miranda

She'd kiss her daughters goodbye and head off through the snow, quietly muttering about how cold her ankles were

while Moreau is literally up to his chin in snow but its fine

as she gets closer to the church she keeps hearing this. thing. it sounded familiar but she couldn't exactly put her finger on it.

she strays from the path to find it because it was just so familiar

as she weaves her way through the snow, her dress gets caught on something. she leans down to get her dress unstuck when she realises its this tiny basket.

like seriously. just a little woven basket in the middle of the snow. and it doesn't look like its been there for that long- there's hardly any snow on it

when she tugs at her skirts again, the basket makes the same noise she's been hearing

she stands back up to her full height, staring down at the basket with narrowed eyes

this cannot be a good idea, can it? opening a strange basket in the woods after being lured out here. it's probably some village manthing's trap.

she's about to step away when she hears the sound again- much more intense and much more clear

Alcina leans down and opens the lid of the basket

inside is this tiny thing- all soft and warm in a padding of blankets

a baby

she stands and looks around

who on earth would be so moronic as to leave their baby in the snow? it's much too cold for a baby to survive-

oh

she sighs, getting onto her knees to pull the baby from the blanketed basket

the meeting will have to wait. it's too cold even in the church for this tiny thing.

when she finally makes it back home, she's greeted by her daughters in a swarm of buzzing flies.

as they manifest in their true forms, they're asking what- or who, rather- their mother brought for dinner

Alcina smiles and shakes her head, unwrapping the small bundle clinging to her breast

"this... is your new sibling" she announces, "they'll be staying with us from now on."

and the sisters are ecstatic. a new sibling!

Daniela especially is happy that she is no longer the youngest. she usually is the one to parade around the castle with her sibling on her shoulders, showing them the coolest hiding spots for hide-n-seek and the windows with the best views

Bela is incredibly protective. like. incredibly.

she smelt blood from across the castle and when she found her little sibling sniffling about a skinned knee earned from a game of tag with Angie, she lost her shit and almost broke the damned thing with her sickle

And Cassandra has been caught reading bedtime stories by nightlight multiple times. she tries to play it off but everyone knows that she loves- absolutely adores- her newest sibling

we all know Alcina is such a wonderful mother to the girls so adding another baby to the mix was a guaranteed success

she's so doting and careful (a little overprotective at times but she means well) as she is with her girls

as the child grows into a teen, she panics a bit because "my beautiful baby is growing into such a beautiful, talented adult" so expect a lot of late night visits when she just sits on the edge of her bed and just admires how much you've grown

Salvatore Moreau:

now this one is an easy one too if i'm 100% honest

think Moses type beat

(if you don't know, Moses was found in the riverbank in a little basket)

apparently i really like baskets

anyways

Moreau was so out of his element when he found this tiny, screaming, writhing piece of soft flesh

the first few weeks were rough

but he eventually got the hang of it (with Alcina's help of course)

he would take his child fishing every now and then- just the two of them out on a boat for a few hours

the kid would literally swim more than walk and that little fact would make Moreau so freakin proud

also this kid would be so well-versed in movie and film history it's stupid

like expect this little 4 or 5 year old babbling not about toys or snow or how many sticks they found but instead about the copyright war over the film Nosferatu and the destruction of its copies

Moreau, as the child gets older (like 11 or 12) would have just a tad of trouble trying to keep the kid out of the village

he'd wake up one day and go out onto the lake, expecting his child to be swinging their legs off the dock and watching the sun rise over the water

and when he finds that they were not, in fact, swinging their legs off the dock and watching the sun rise over the water, he p a n i c s

i mean, full blown red alert

all of the lords are summoned to help Moreau look for his missing kid, the lycans are given an article of clothing to help find the scent, Mother Miranda goes to search the village herself- the whole shebang

and when the kid is found playing with the village children, Moreau bursts into tears

needless to say, the kid isn't allowed to go to the village anymore

until they're fifty (Moreau's words, of course)

but the kid sneaks off more and more as they get older, using Alcina or Donna or Karl as an excuse to be away

and Moreau knows but he never says a word

seeing his child happy and free with the kids their age makes him happy, even if he is a tad, a tad, a tad bit nervous

Donna Beneviento:

when Donna found this child huddled up against the base of the stairs leading up to her front door, she at first thought it was a doll of hers

it was only when she actually walked outside that she realised it was this shaking, shriveled child in tattered clothes

she spent a good five minutes just staring, wondering how on earth she's supposed to react

that's when Angie jumped in and pulled at her skirt, telling her to "let the kid inside, already!"

Donna went immediately to work on some clothes- why on earth were they wearing such ragged things?! it's freezing outside!- while Angie entertained in the parlour

honestly, it didn't go well

the kid was a little bit unsettled by the floating doll that moved and spoke on its own FOR GOOD REASON

and when Donna walked back in with her measurement tape and some fabric, the kid backed themselves into a corner of the room with their gangly legs tucked into their chest

Angie sighs from the opposite side of the room, letting her little feet fidget as she gestures to the kid. "they're no fun" she pouts, "wouldn't even let me know their name"

Donna puts her materials down slowly and lifts her veil back before attempting a small smile

it takes a while but upon the offer of food, the kid finally lets Donna make them some clothes while Angie makes conversation

she works in silence, only offering small awkward smiles

Angie finally brings up the topic of where their parents are when the kid's clothes are done

when the child goes silent, Donna nods in understanding before hurrying off to make a room for them

as Angie helped tug the blankets up to the child's ears, they promised they'd be gone in the morning

Angie was the one to tell them off.

"You'll stay as long as you need, you silly goose!"

and the child did

Donna would let them tag along for meetings so long as they promised to keep quiet and help keep Angie out of trouble

most of the time, it didn't work and they both would end up in trouble but Donna let them come nonetheless

and when the other Lords question where on earth this little kid came from- all dressed in black fabric that matched Donna's dress, she just shook her head and let Angie chase them off verbally

she'd spend literal HOURS locked in that workshop making new little friends for her child and when they were old enough, she'd let them into the workshop

and when they were even older, she'd walk them through making their very first doll on their own

she'd just watch with pride as they carefully painted the freckles with a shaky hand while Angie danced around their ankles singing of how excited she was to have another friend

The Duke:

he would be setting up shop near the base of the Dimitrescu castle when he catches a kid trying to steal some his wares

he wouldn't be terribly upset, more concerned

it wasn't something shiny or expensive that they were trying to steal

it was some of the steaming-hot food he had left to cool in the wintry air

he confronted the child gently and with a warm smile

"That's cordon bleu," he says, gesturing to the steaming plate. "I can make you some if you'd like"

and as the child eats, the Duke continues tidying up his shop for any future customers

the child, through a mouthful of food, points to different items and asks their purpose, their price, their possible enhancements

the Duke answers each question with patience, happy for the company

but he doesn't just let the questions go one-way

"How about a trade?" he asks as the child asks about the strange-looking bottle of green liquid. "An answer for an answer."

the child agrees and the Duke starts to peel back layers of why the child was here looking for food

they had been orphaned by the last lycan attack, only barely making it out by fleeing into the woods

they tried to forage off of berry bushes and successfully managed to kill a pig- only for the blood to attract lycans before they could properly eat it

the Duke nods and continues busying himself with his shop, feeding the horse that pulls the wagon

the thought had hit him when he watched the child petting his horse

that horse hated everyone. including him at times.

maybe...

when he offered to take the child in, the kid nearly burst into tears and thanked him repeatedly, swearing to earn their keep

and they did, seven times over

what started off as a purely business venture morphed into something more as time went on

when the child would come back from selling smaller household items like gasoline and the occasional package of bullets, the Duke would have them climb onto the roof of the wagon and watch the sun set together with a plate of food

speaking of which, like Moreau, the Duke would raise the most cultured child

this kid would know how to prepare and identify different dishes and their ingredients just by looking at them or smelling them

and their palate would be far more sophisticated than most adults

the Duke, as the child gets older, would eventually allow them to choose destinations to set up shop- even outside of the village

wherever his child wants, the shop would go

it allows them to see the world and its earthly wares together- something the Duke had lacked in his life before the child was brought into the picture

Karl Heisenberg:

listen to me very very carefully

this man would be the most chaotic father ever to walk this earthly realm

when he finds this kid in the elevator of his factory, he's kinda standing there like 🧍 "what the hell-"

and when the kid starts spamming the button while maintaining eye contact, he kinda snaps out of it and starts chasing after them as they drop down to a different floor

it goes on for a solid twenty minutes before he finally managed to track them down in the corner of his office

and when i say this man is confused, i freaking mean it

i mean

why the HELL would some random kid be in his factory? don't they like... play with ponies or something at this age?

to be fair, this man literally has never been allowed a childhood so

obviously he starts scolding the kid ("what the hell are you doin' in here? it's dangerous and there's some really freaky shit here, kid"), dragging them to a nearby sink because "holy shit kid, you're filthy"

the kid is silent essentially the whole time, just kinda staring into his eyes

and of course Karl's gonna be like "...the fuck're you doin'?"

the kid's face is cleaned off and Karl sends them back out towards the village with a scratchy blanket he pulled out of the bottom of his desk drawer

he's working on his 'equipment' one day when he starts reaching for a wrench, keeping his focus on the body on the table

when i say this man jumps skyhigh at the kid asking a question, i mean it

he drags the kid back out, yelling about how dangerous it is and how "you shouldn't do that! you're gonna get yourself killed! go back home!"

the kid doesn't listen

it becomes a regular thing- Karl finds the kid wandering around the factory, Karl brings the kid out of danger, Karl tells them to get lost

eventually (day thirteen of this) he asks why the child keeps coming back

and he hates the answer he gets

it was something along the lines of "it's warm and there's nowhere else for me to go"

so Karl reluctantly eagerly lets them stay

it's a lot of rules at first (a kid shouldn't be allowed to just wander around a bunch of mindless cyborg killers, let alone a factory) but eventually the child learns to mind Sturm and the others

doesn't mean Karl does not have a fullblown heart attack when he walks into his workspace to find the kid tracing their finger along the center of the battery for the Soldats

after a very long talk (and some deep breathing) Karl reluctantly eagerly lets them sit against the very far wall to watch him work on the machinery- not, under any circumstances, the actual bodies

as the child blossoms into a young adult, they start to help out with certain aspects of Karl's work

exclusively machinery because Karl could not physically handle having his kid watch him get elbow-deep into a corpse

and Karl is so freaking proud of it

when the Soldat is kicked to life, he's got his kid in his arms and cackling like the proud dad he is

yeah. paternal Heisenberg>>>

[slasherbaby]

Can we get some fluffy smut of female reader x dwight lol

This was loads of fun to write- thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoy!

Soft & Sweet [read under the cut ♡]

pairing: Dwight Fairfield x female reader

rating: explicit

words: 1014

His hands were gentle against your skin, lips surprisingly soft as he placed kiss after kiss along your collarbone.

“Dwight,” You breathed out as you wove your fingers through his hair, playing with it idlely. He kept going, unclasping your bra as he kissed down your chest, stopping to give one of your nipples a gently lick.

You gasped, tugging slightly on his hair at the flick of pleasure. When you heard him chuckle, you opened one of your eyes, keeping the other scrunched shut. He had a dopey smile on his lips, and soon you couldn’t help but join him in the soft laughter.

When the laughter stopped, he tucked his head back against your chest, nuzzling against you as his hands kept moving up and down your waist.

“I love you so much,” He murmured, his voice emanating such a warm, safe feeling in your belly. Something you’d rarely felt with partners before him. “You make me so happy…”

“Dwight…” You started, starting to sit up so you could give him a proper kiss. But before you can, you’re stopped by one of his hands on your shoulders, gently pressing you back into the pillows.

“Please,” His voice was so soft, so sweet… you couldn’t help but listen. “Let me make you happy too.”

“Baby you do make me happy.” You countered, but stayed where he wanted you anyways. “Everyday. Just by being you.”

The pretty pink flush that spread across his cheeks and nose made you bite your lower lip, the corners of your mouth quirked into a smile. Fuck, he was perfect.

“Can I make you happy?” He asked softly, though his eyes held a heat in them that you knew all too well. You sucked in your lower lip, wetting it with anticipation.

“Yeah, yeah.” You managed, the butterflies in your lower belly stirring. By the way he was looking at you, you knew what he meant by it, and you could hardly hold back the trembles in your thighs. “Make me happy baby, please.”

“Thank you,” He smiled, a bit too cheekily for his innocent tone of voice, before ducking his head back down and resuming his trail of kisses down.

It wasn’t just lust that fueled the chemistry between the two of you. In fact, you didn’t even have sex together for the first two or three months of dating. You knew about his anxiety, and you didn’t want to push him to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with, even though every time you’d drop him back off at his place, you would pray that he’d invite you inside.

He had been the first to cave, surprisingly when you two went to the drive-in to catch a flick. It was something scary, with just the right amount of cheesy gore to make you giggle. Dwight, on the other hand, spent the first half of the movie hiding behind his hands. Eventually, he decided to hide in the crook of your neck instead, with you sitting on his lap in the back of your truck.

When his hands started to wander between your legs, you realized just why he picked this movie in the first place. The movie ended with two of his fingers curled up inside you and his thumb rubbing circles onto your clit, and the night ended with you riding him until both of you saw stars.

Dwight’s tongue against your naval brought you back to the moment, your thoughts leaving your mind in an instant. He swirls it gently, right above your thatch of black hair, before pressing another kiss on the damp trail he left behind.

Dwight, you thought, was far too bashful for how skilled his tongue was.

His thumbs hooked into your panties, bringing them down slowly and taking the time to remove them completely from your legs. He put them off to the side, but kept them on the bed. It made your heart burst with something bright and lovely, the way he didn’t just toss them to the floor like you would’ve done.

It was the small, sweet things, you noted, that made you fall in love with him. Like the way he was careful with easily replaceable things, or the way he meticulously made his and your coffee every morning.

His tongue is warm and soft against your labia, pressing down gently and licking a stripe up to your clit. You press your lips together and spread your legs open further for him, to which he grabs each thigh and begins to massage them.

He only pulled back for a moment, and you nearly pout at the loss of warmth. That is until you see his face, and the way his pupils are blown up with lust.

“You taste so good, Y/N.” He murmurs, his cheeks practically on fire as he moves back down to your soaked cunt. “So good…”

Then, he went back to work. His tongue flickering up against you, never rough or fast paced, but not slow and teasing either. It was perfect, and when his finger curled up inside you, brushing against that special bundle of nerves he knew how to find so well, you came. Clenching around him as moans fell from your lips like honey.

He pulled his finger out slowly, making sure to leave kiss after kiss to your inner thighs, before gently using his thumbs to part your labia. He leaned in and pressed his tongue directly against your entrance, lapping at your soaked hole and feeling the way your muscles contracted with pleasure.

You hold him by the hair, grinding your cunt against his face as he moans, eating you out and plunging his tongue into you like a man starved. When you finally release his hair, he doesn’t pull back. Only opening his eyes to shoot you a wink before moving back up to your clit.

With a moan, you let your head fall back against the pillows. This was going to be a long, happy night. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The General (Part 1): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: matchmaking day is upon you, and you’re in for more than just a partner. 

wc: 2.1k

tw: none - just a bunch of backstory. (part 2 is going to be much more interesting and Geto WILL appear.)

masterlist

The trees along the grounds of your family’s estate are blooming in full force, once again signaling the coming of the most anticipated day of the year: matchmaking day. Beautiful petals of yellow, red, and pink would decorate the lawn and as a child, you would gather them up and toss them around. You imagined your wedding would be just as majestic as the coming of spring and that matchmaking day would be the happiest day of your life. 

For years, you had watched your older siblings be married off to wonderful and loving partners, their names being called from the crowd of people who gathered in the village square every year. For years, you eagerly waited your turn to meet the love of your life. And last year - the year before you were set to make your debut in the matchmaking pool - you found him. 

The man you wanted to be set up with - Yuko Hashinara - was perfect. 

As the son of a potter, he wasn’t filthy rich, but for a whole six months, you dipped your hands into the kaolin just to get closer to him. Yuko seemed to take a liking to you too, his soft features and green eyes following you around the workshop while you made conversation or giggled over town gossip. He had even touched your hand tenderly once; the white clay smearing over your fingers with care. He hadn’t admitted that he loved you, but today would change all of that. 

“Mother! What should I wear?” All of the formal wear in your closet now seemed too plain for what you planned on being your debut into society as Yuko’s Betrothed. You no longer had the scores of clothing your sisters offered or the keen eye of your eldest brother. It was just you now, and as the youngest, there was a need to show everyone you were just as worthy as your siblings of a perfect match. 

Your mother bustles in hastily, attempting to fix your hair while you rifle through the clothing that’s available to you. “Don’t wear red; only whores wear red. Perhaps the hunter green one will do.” When you pull out the silk garment your mother detailed, your shoulders fall a bit, noting it’s plainness. 

“But will this look attractive for Yuko?” you wonder, trying to see the dress in better lighting. Gold and brown swirls decorate the dress around the neck and hemline but it still looks inelegant. “You know, like I’m supposed to be his wife?” Your mother’s hands still on your hair, and for a second, you wonder if you’ve said something wrong.

“This dress will look beautiful on you, like it did on your grandmother when she was matched with her husband.” Ah, yes. Grandmother. At the mention of the old matriarch, you’re silenced immediately, recalling the love she and your grandfather had upon their union. “We should only hope you are as lucky as she was to find a worthy match.” 

“Yuko is a ‘worthy match’,” you retort, but your mother doesn’t reply, finishing your hairdo and stepping back to admire her handiwork. 

“Now let’s get you dressed; we don’t have a lot of time.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

When you arrive in the square with the other girls of the village, there is an uproar of chatter about who would be matched with who, and whether or not the matchmaker would be fair to some of the older girls who had never been matched with before. 

You’re not overly friendly with any of the others gathered - due to your family’s estate being on the far side of the main village and as such, every trip into town required a long trek - but you’re welcomed nonetheless. As you stand in the cool, spring breeze, your eyes roam around the boys who were gathered on the left side of the square. Your eyes fall upon Yuko, and a sigh escapes your lips, your mind fluttering off to begin fantasies of the rest of your lives together. You would have an extravagant wedding, a lavish reception, and an equally attention-bringing birth of your first born: a son you’d already named in your head. 

But as soon as you get to the day your son would take his first steps, the sound of the matchmaker’s voice echoes across the courtyard. She was short - very short - with small, beady eyes, and white hair that feel in a braid down her back. Her wrinkled skin holds all of the years she performed this ceremony, and you’re sure if you stare long enough that she might even shrink a little.

“We will now begin the matchmaking ceremonies with a prayer…” Your nerves bundle up in your stomach as the old woman begins reciting a prayer to the gods that you completely ignore. Couldn’t she just say all of the names and then pray? What did the gods care about the order of things? 

It isn’t until you hear the soft murmurs of the women around you that you know it’s time to look up and resume your fretting about the pickings, which were sort of slim to begin with. 

“Kashishime Okkostua… and Junte Yakamura.” The first couple of the ceremony had been announced, and you look at the brightened expression of a woman in the sea of female faces, who excitedly approaches her betrothed with arms open wide. The following twenty or so names were read off with similar results; only a few couples do not already know each other, and they approach each other with a timidness you could only describe as painful to watch. 

“Yuko Hashinara and…” Oh, no, the time had already come. You look at the man who wrings his hands nervously, eyes glued to the matchmaker, while you hold your hands similarly, heart pounding beneath your dress wildly. The name of the woman falls from the matchmaker’s lips in slow motion, it seems, but it’s obviously not your name. 

It’s not me. 

It’s not me. 

It’s. 

Not. 

Me. 

Your first thought is to go numb. As you eye the female who emerges from the crowd, your self-preservation instincts take over, analyzing the way she looks while you fix your fallen countenance. She is nothing amazing to look at, you reason, but as they acknowledge each other and depart from the crowd, your heart goes with them, never to return to the hole in your chest. Not even a trade from another other-worldly spirit could bring it back. 

The rest of the day blows by you, and you don’t even hear a single syllable that sounds remotely like your name grace the tongue of the matchmaker. When she sets aside her papers, you and two other women are left standing in the square. 

One of them started crying long ago, her face puffy and red. The other crosses her arms and takes a glance at you, shrugging her shoulders disinterestedly. But you… you’re feeling as numb as a rock. You stare at the sand lining the pathway, unsure of what to say or how to feel other than empty. The matchmaker hobbles down from her perch to where you three are standing and looks all of you over once. When she opens her mouth, all you can hear is:

“... maybe next year.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

Next year. That’s the only thought that bounces around your skull as you make the embarrassing trek back to your residence. Next year. 

But there wouldn’t be a next year. 

The one you wanted was already gone, and--

Your eyes lift slowly to the door of your family’s home. Never in your lifetime had you experienced such a painful moment, but you wouldn’t let anyone see you defeated. Even after your mother opens the door and witnesses your shuffle back into the house, you announce to her and your father stoically: “The matchmaker said next year would be the year,” and walk into your bedroom with nothing else to declare. 

The pillows on your bed muffle the sobs of your broken heartedness, and cover up the absolute humiliation you had suffered in front of the whole town. You wouldn’t speak of this day to anyone, not even your parents. Next year would be your year.

_______________________________________________________________________

Thunder rattles the windows of your house, and you stare at the various trees being stripped of their buds and flower petals in the pending storm though the panel in your bedroom. This is perfect weather for your mood, you note, and settle into the soft cushion beneath you with a sense of satisfaction. The world mirrors your inner turmoil with this storm, and you like the way the darkness swallows up the bright blue sky. 

“Y/n…” A tap on your door signals the arrival of your mother, but you don’t answer, preferring to stare out of the window at the destruction instead. “I’m coming in.” The door is pushed open with ease, and your mother waddles in, holding a bowl of your favorite soup. “I made some soup for you.” You look at the offering with disinterest,  eyes sliding away from the bowl and to the mirror across the room. 

“Thank you, but I’m not hungry,” you croak. You can’t see your reflection, but you know you look like a wreck. You had snatched out the bobby pins and ribbons in your hair after you cried, then stripped the dress off in haste, throwing it into the corner before dressing in a plain kimono to remain decent. You’re still in that same kimono, even though it’s been almost a day since you’d changed. 

“You haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.” The keen observation doesn’t make your stomach growl. Instead, it’s like a stone is sitting in your gut, preventing you from even desiring food.

“I’ll be okay.” Your mother sits the soup down on your bedside table anyways, leaving you in peace just like she found you. A slight hiccup finds its way into your throat, and you want to cry, but you have no tears left at all. Your face is tight and raw, and you want to scrub at it to make it all go away… but you can’t. The matchmaker’s word is as good as a bond, and you can’t break that bond; not even if you tried. 

The sound of the front door rattling initially sounds like some aftereffect of the lightning and thunder rolling across the sky, but you notice that the windows hadn’t shook. The pounding sound echoes again, and you find the strength to slide to the edge of your bed, feet dangling in the air precariously. 

Your father would be there to get it, wouldn’t he? So why are you moving? Before you can question yourself further, you place your feet on the floor and pad to your bedroom door. Perhaps it was Yuko, and something had gone terribly wrong with his new wife. The thought makes you move even faster, your legs propelling you down the hallway and to the foyer, where your father stood with the door open to the rain. As you crane your head around the wall between the foyer and hallway, you see a figure bent over at the knees, catching their breath and mumbling erratically. 

“Can I help you?” your father asks the person, who’s head snaps up, flinging his long, white hair back and showing his startling blue eyes. He’s dressed as an Imperial Warrior in a black and red kimono and hakama with a white sash around his waist, which signifies his rank, but you don’t know what rank white is.

“Sir, I have come a long way,” he begins, panting still. “The Imperial Court is in need of your youngest daughter. I have ord--” Your father scoffs, not even entertaining the man at his feet by listening to his speech. 

“I’m sorry, but my youngest daughter is not a fighter,” he cuts the man off with his hand, but the man continues anyway.

“If you would please grant me entry into your home, I will be able to tell you the entire story. I am sure you will allow me this much upon seeing this.” Suddenly, the man reveals a water damaged envelope with the Imperial seal stamped upon it from his kimono. Your father looks at the document, but does not open it. 

“Come inside, then. I’m sure you’re weary from your travels. I’ll have my wife prepare you some dinner.” As your father lets the man inside, your peer a little closer at the soldier and find his sapphire orbs boring right into your soul. A charming half smile pulls at his lips, but he turns away to follow your father into the kitchen, leaving you alone in the foyer and to wonder who exactly was in your home and why.