#attempt at fluff

[yoke9494]

If you were a worm. 🪱

Satoru Gojo: 🧿👄🧿

He wasn't surprised when you asked him this question. In fact he was a little hurt about how long it took you to even ask!

Of course he'd love and care for you! He'd search throughout heaven and earth to find you a cure! He'd give his entire fortune to the best scientist in the world just to turn you back.

But he didn't want to seem clingy. He didn't want you to know he'd be completely lost without you.. No. He needed you to be lost without him-- He needed you to only live for him.

He was so obsessed with you but he never told you this because of the fear of losing you. He needed to play this cool..

So when you asked him during dinner if he'd still love you as a worm all he did was chuckle. He smiled and leaned back into his chair. "Hmm-- Would I love you as a worm?"

In his mind he was squealing at his imagination. How cute would you be as a tiny worm! All chubby and weird looking..

You looked at him with wide eyes. They almost looked sad.. Were you thinking the worst?! You fiddled around with your fork and nodded.

"Just curious.."

His smile grew.. "Of course I would. I wonder if Gucci makes little worm sweaters?.. We'd still need to match come Christmas time."

__________________________

Suguru Geto: 🖤🫃🏻

What was in this cigarette? Has he heard you clearly?.. He did bum a smoke off Shoko... She probably fucked with it in some way or another..

"..Repeat that for me sweetheart?"

You huffed as your body leaned over his.

You had snuck up on him while he was hiding from Yaga to take a smoke break. He knew it was you by the way his heart skipped a beat when your soft lips met his jaw. That pretty little melody of your giggle when you snuggled up to his back

"I said! Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

His pretty face scrunched up as he thought. He inhaled and let a light cloud of smoke escape his mouth. "Would you still be able to talk to me?"

You nodded. "Yes I'd still be able to speak."

He hummed before he let a laugh escape his nose. "I'll be honest baby-- I might think you're a curse and just end up eating you."

You deadpanned while he laughed a bit more. "What? At least you'll be with me forever?"

__________________________

Kento Nanami: 🌻

He raised a brow before looking back down at his magazine. " A worm?"

You let out a quiet "mhmm" as you watched him continue his reading.

He thought for a minute. "I'd still love you but it would be difficult to continue our relationship.. Especially the physical activities we do in private.."

He saw the sadness in your pretty eyes. It was eating at his soul.

"I'm not saying I'd dump you or anything.. But more like I'd wait for you to return to your normal self? Or I'd stay single forever and find you in my next life. Hopefully we'd both be worms because this human shit is exhausting. I'd dig a nice little worm tunnel for us to live in, probably in a nice little garden owned by an elderly couple and all that.."

...... God you loved your emo boyfriend so much.

___________________________

Yu Haibara: 🌞🍔🍟🥤🍫🍡🍜

He'd. Move. Mountains. For. You!!!

So of course he'd love you! No matter what happened to you--- If you turned into a worm, shit he'd find a way to turn into one too! If you lost all your hair? He'd shave his off and give it to you! If you asked him to jump he'd say "Yes my queen! How high?"

Lol this boy is obsessed and so in love! But unlike Satoru he'd yell it on the mountain tops! He wants the whole world and everyone on it to know he's head over heels just for you.

You are his sun, moon, air, reason, and happiness!

So when you ask him if he'd still love you as a worm..

He went on for hours! He wasn't one to think too hard on things but he actually took the time to plan everything!

First if he couldn't become one with you..

Then he'd buy you the best fish aquarium and make it into a luxurious worm habitat. We're talking so many things for you to wiggle on and the top notch soil! A little stone bath for your wormie showers.. Did worms take baths? He didn't know but you'd need one anyways!

He'd also buy a portable mini  aquarium so he could take you with him everywhere!

Some chick would try to hit on him when he took you with him to your favorite restaurant?! Pshh! He'd shove you in her face and say.

"Do you see this beautiful creature?! This is my girlfriend and she is my life! Get away!"

Nanami would get upset with him when he tries to shove pieces of your favorite snacks in your habitat.

(Nanami) "She's a worm now. She eats dirt, not pork buns.."

Yu would gasp and cover the sides of your portable home as if he was covering your ears. "How dare you Nanami! My girl needs to eat! My poor baby is wasting away!"

Let's just say its Yu Haibara and his worm girlfriend Y/n against the world! ♥️

........................

[sanguineslave]

HI HELLO I SAW YOUR POST ABOUT GIVING U A PROMPT AND I LEAPT TO SUBMIT THIS

so uhh is it ok if you write some fluff about my bard Tav, Severin (he/him) having Astarion as the muse for his music? except Astarion doesn’t know this until after he shows the camp a song he wrote (and i didn’t add gale because i didn’t think to, i got the other main ones in cano though lmao). also this is Severin

tysm for reading this!!

Okay, I sort of went overboard with this because I haven't written anything longer than a few paragraphs in AGES, and I've literally never written fluff, but I hope this is alright! Your Tav looks so cool 👉👈 I was kinda afraid to write about him too much cuz idk his personality eksjejsjj

Misunderstandings

Content style: angst, fluff (???), comedy, probably ooc

Content warnings: mild references to violence and problems with sexual boundaries

Astarion is used to people staring at him. The past two centuries of his life had been filled with wanton gazes; his life's purpose was to attract attention everywhere he went, and he did it very well. He knew he was beautiful, tempting and handsome. He even revelled in it.

...So why was Severin's stare sending chills up his spine?

It had been going on for a few days, now— this awkward little situation. Astarion would sit and read, or pretend to read and eavesdrop on others' conversations. This was the routine he'd adopted since he first arrived at camp. But, now, anything he did was accompanied by fleeting little glances from the camp bard. At first, Astarion figured the man had fallen head-over-heels for him, that he was hot under the collar and desperate for some attention. Now, he's not sure if Severin is crushing on him or plotting his murder. His gaze is too fiery, too trained on the features of his face to be lustful. He never directly approaches him, either; just watches from behind his tent flaps, crossed legged and only ever looking away when Astarion meets his gaze.

Confronting Severin about all of this had crossed his mind, but he'd decided against it. Avoidance, Astarion figured, was probably the best course of action, at least until Severin finally snapped and put a blade to his throat. After all, he couldn't exactly prove that the bard had murderous intentions. Maybe he was just shy. Maybe, he was working up the courage to ask for a fuck and had no idea how ridiculously creepy his staring was. He wouldn't be the first man to be so oblivious...

"Tonight, we feast!" Wyll's booming voice rips Astarion from his thoughts, head snapping around to see what the warlock was fussing over. Beside him, Lae'zel holds up an elk by the antlers, the creature's eyes lifeless and clouded. There was an arrow sticking into its neck, weeping blood fresh enough to smell on the air.

"Fuck yes! I'll start the fire," Karlach rubs her hands together, the heat generated between them enough to create flickering embers.

"I'll fetch our wine," Shadowheart adds.

All at once, everyone is bustling around the camp, grabbing pots and emptying baskets to find fresh vegetables. Everyone except Astarion, of course, who bristles in place. A camp get-together was the last thing he needed; declining the invitation would make him look sulky in front of his companions, and joining them would entail a night full of Severin's awkward stares. The Hells was he supposed to do?

"Astarion?" Wyll calls his name, pensive. He hadn't realised he was scowling, fangs just barely peeking out from under his lip. "I was going to leave a hunk of the meat raw, in case, you know..."

Aha! An opening!

"Oh, no, dead meat is of no use to me. I like my food... Very fresh. I'm afraid I'll have to hunt for my own meal tonight." He plays his best pout, eyes gleaming with insincerity. For once, his vampirism was a benefit; it was an excuse to hunt, to leave camp for a few hours while everyone else talked amongst themselves. Moreover, Severin wouldn't be able to chase after him with everyone else around him, watching. Most likely, he'd be the night's entertainment, strumming songs on his lute until his finger pads were raw and everyone was full of stew. Yes... Yes, this was the perfect excuse to get some peace and quiet!

"You're not joining us tonight?" Severin's voice is like honey, smooth and warm. There's a hint of... Disappointment? Sadness, perhaps, in it as well. Astarion regards him with a courteous nod, jaw clenching slightly. How could such an innocent face belong to a killer? Well— actually, that was a stupid question. Everyone in this camp was a killer; everyone had killed goblins and bandits and gods-know-what-else along their journey. Astarion mentally rephrased his sentence: how could such an innocent face, a face that had so openly welcomed his vampirism weeks earlier, be planning his demise? The idea seems preposterous now that he's up close to the other for the first time in days. Hells, there was no way it was true.

If he had the ability to, Astarion might've blushed in embarrassment. This paranoia was unbecoming of him; it was childish, something his siblings might've engaged in. Of course Severin wasn't planning on killing him!

"...not tonight," is all he manages before scampering away.

---

A small boar and a few hares. The forest was almost empty tonight. Lae'zel, all brutish and ugly as sin, must have chased all the game away in her hunt earlier...

Or, maybe, he's just sloppy tonight.

Astarion can't think of much besides Severin. Like many a man and woman before him, he was enchanted by his looks. Unlike most, though, he wasn't direct enough to proposition him for sex outright. He was more like a blushing maiden, or one of those gruff, bearded Gur he'd find in taverns— too scared to approach a man for pleasure but clearly interested in the idea. Confessing his vampirism must've put him on edge, blinding him to reason. Guilt pools in his stomach. Not only had he made assumptions about an ally, but he'd been depriving him of a service he wanted. What a horrible person he was.

---

The walk back to camp is more like a shuffle, his feet heavy and slow. Part of him hopes that everyone will be asleep when he returns, but he knows that chance is slim. And, sure enough, when the gleam of their campfire comes into view, he hears bouts of boisterous laughter and drunken conversation. Astarion steels himself, paints a confident facade over his face.

Before he can step into the clearing, Severin interrupts him.

"Alright, alright, I'll play it for you. It's not finished yet, though, so you mustn't judge it!"

Then, a gentle, melodic tune thrums to life through the strings of his lute. Astarion pauses, watching through thick tree branches. He sings gently, quietly— like he's embarrassed of his own work. The lyrics are hard to make out from behind the camp, but a few words make their way to his ears.

They make his jaw slacken.

Sanguine eyes, hair of silver, something something... Adventures, tales of legend, something...

Astarion kicks himself internally. He'd never been so wrong about someone. The tadpole in his head, clearly, was eating away at his intelligence and leaving him stupid. Of course Severin, a bard, was using his environment as inspiration for his music. The staring, the lack of conversation... It was all because he was observing him from afar. Every arrow he let loose, every book he nestled into after a long day— he was being immortalised in song, in poetry.

He releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. A deep dread, seated in the bottom of his unbeating heart, evaporates all at once and he feels a little lighter. Happy, even.

When Severin finishes, Astarion comes into the firelight and claps slowly, his usual confidence restored with a renewed vigor.

"Bravo, bravo! What an inspiring performance, darling!" The others seem to agree with him, nodding their heads and cheering with varying degrees of sobriety. "If I were a goblin, I'd lock you up like that Volo character and have you sing about me all day long." He makes sure to hold his gaze with those words, eyes radiating a sincerity he can't portray through words. Thank you, they say. Thanks for what, exactly, he isn't sure. But he's thankful nonetheless.

Thank you, Severin.

[anechomirrored]

Prompt:"That was good work"

Fandom: Fnaf, Lethal Company, Comedy and Tragedy AU

Rating: T

Warning: Spoilers for Comedy and Tragedy

Tech shimmied down from the engine shaft and landed smartly, feet together on the floor of the ship bay.

"Found the problem," They turned, wiping at a smudge of grease on their cheek. "Something musta got knocked loose on the last rough landing. Should be good now though."

In a clatter of wheels, Moon slid out from under the ship.

His aviation goggles were askew atop his ever present night cap. The boys had really taken to trying different clothing styles.

"Landing gear's fixed too." He said, sitting up on the creeper seat, "Let's see how it sounds now."

Standing, Moon used a foot to wheel the seat to the side and pulled himself up onto the catwalk framing your salvaged shipping crate of a space ship.

Pulling the lever, the engine reved to life. Standing outside the sound was nearly lost in the cacophony of the other ships and their crews. For a moment it lifted off the floor and hovered. Moon listened a minute more and then cut the power.

"Running like a junkyard dream." He deadpanned, "Which means it might actually be running better than it ever has. That was good work." He gave tech a smile.

"We make a good team, Garage Rat."

Moon exited the ship and jumped down from the top of the ladder with a huff.

"You spend almost as much time here as I do, Little Tech." He shot them an amused look and tapped his faceplate just to the right of his cheek.

"Don't let Sun see you with that. He'll throw you in the wash right along with your coveralls." Moon pulled a clean shop cloth from his jacket and held it out for them.

"He could try." Tech quipped taking the cloth.

They did their best to wipe the smudge from their face. Moon held back a laugh as thety proceeded to only make it worse.

"Where to after this, Moonlight?" They asked turning their attention to the large enforced space station windows.

This startport had been their home for about a week now but it was time to go. The authorities would catch wind eventually and unlicensed squatters weren't welcome for much longer than that.

Moon thought for a moment.

"Hmmn, could try Adamance?"

Tech raised a brow.

"You like the flooding ones don't you?"

"They are green and growing." Moon grumbled, looking away.

The shop cloth hit his jacket collar with a thwap.

"Guess that's true...fancy yourself a nature walk, do you?" They swung the cloth at him again playfully, "Vow has been having bad waether lately... so Adamance it us! The perfect pinic destination, don't you think?"

It was Moon's turn to look incredulous.

"Want me to make sandwiches for the occaision?" He teased, snatching the other end of the cloth.

Tech held on pulling it tight between them in a mock tug of war.

"Maaybe..." the tease, pulling Moon in closer.

Moon ignored how his fans kicked up. Instead he smirked.

"Should I get Sunny to sweet talk his way into cake from the lady at the sweets kitchen?"

Tech, pulled him in just a little closer and his faceplate clicked to the side curiously.

"Its like you read my mind." All at once they let go.

The sudden loss of tension caused Moon stumbled back a step. Tech's laughter bubbled up like water on rock.

Moon gave a halfhearted grumble.

"I'll tell Sunny the plan, you finish getting this bucket of bolts ready okay, Fly boy?" Tech was walking away before he could get another word in.

Moon sighed, shaking his head.

"Trouble, trouble...such a little rulebreaker."

He shut the engine hatch a bit harder than necessary, ingnoring the speed of his cooling fans.

He'd have to really wow Tech with those sandwiches.

[delicatedarknight]

Tim: so why should we select you?

Guy A: I'm rich and handsome

Dick: Bruce is literally a billionaire. are you saying you are more rich than him?

Jason: and handsome? Don't make me laugh you look worse than our family dog.

Guy A: ex-xcuse me??

Damian: you are excused. Now get out

Tim: and what about you?

Guy b: I can protect him

Damian: protect?? dad??

Dick: [scoffs] It's like saying you can protect Batman.

Guy b: but he ain't Batman though

Jason: bitch he might be

Damian: where did you even find these people Tim?

Jason: seriously? imagine saying u can protect Batman

Dick: nah bruh imagine flexing money and looks on Bruce

Tim: ok guys this is the last candidate for the day

Tim: so what makes you special?

Clark: I can cook for him

Jason:[snorts] What if you can cook for him? How can it help our Bruce?

Clark: I'm sorry I'm not as rich as him but I can cook, clean, and care for him

Dick: have you brought anything to claim your statement.

Clark:[places the pie] I brought this Kansas special apple pie-

Damian:[already on his second slice] ae-ets gsoo ghuuud

Jason, Tim, and Dick fighting for the last piece

Clark: uh..soo

Damian:[clears his throat] You are selected.

Dick: Definitely

Jason: prepare your vows

Tim: btw who recommended you? Because you have a really ordinary background

Clark: oh it was Bruce

[collective HUH from batkids]

Clark: [snickering] It was to get approved by you guys

[collective even louder HA]

Clark: [laughing] That's because we are already dating

[collectively yelling WHAT]

Clark: [changing into Superman] hate to leave like this on our first meet but Metropolis needs me

[collective screaming]

[cheralith]

childhood bestfriend!kaiser who specifically always demands his managers to reserve a spot for you at every single one of his games.

you always go to support him, with him insisting he needs you there as some sort of “lucky charm” (he won’t actually admit he thinks those superstitions are bullshit), so imagine his shock when he finds out that your seat is empty on the day of one of the most important games of the season—the game that will decide who gets to compete in the german cup.

it’s ten minutes before the game starts and despite his coach’s pep talk to the team, all kaiser can focus on is your empty seat and the absolute betrayal you’ve bestowed upon him, your supposed “best friend.”

he hasn’t realized it—nor will he admit it if he ever were to come to such an epiphany—stubborn as he is, but the reason as to why he does so well in games that you’re present at is because of the fact it gives him more motivation to win and impress you rather than just solely being dependent on the faces of despair from his opponents. a unique sort of euphoria that he gets whenever he can spot you jumping up and down in your seat with his number #10 jersey on, that your praise belongs to him and him only.

so when he steps out on to the field and sees that your seat is still collecting dust, he seethes silently to himself, gritting his teeth, pissed that he even called you his best friend to begin with. because what sort of friend doesn’t show up to one of the most important games in germany’s football?!

he’s still planning to win, of course. he’s michael kaiser—he’s famous for doing so. and he plans to use all his rage that you’ve caused to do so, just in spite of you.

because he’s michael kaiser, number ten of bastard mündchen. he doesn’t need your help. he never did.

(see, what he doesn’t know is that you’re simply home sick with a cold and that you’re still dressed in his jersey, just also with a sweater and bundles of blankets on top to stay warm, but regardless, you’re still watching and cheering him on from behind the tv screen. you’ve sent him some texts and voicemails telling him so, but none have received a reply back yet and you can only imagine what this drama queen has in store for you once he wins the match.)

[toughbunnyforever]

maybe try writing him a note next time idk

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

need more nanami and yapper gf!!!! Please please pleaseeeee

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ teddy’s notes: your wish is my command!!! this is based on a couple of scenarios from this post. enjoy!!

nanami looked like he had been through war.

his tie was loosened, his usually neat hair was slightly disheveled, and he carried the aura of a man who had exhausted every last ounce of patience.

he barely acknowledged you as he set his briefcase down, exhaling sharply as he shrugged off his coat.

you, of course, saw this as a perfect opportunity.

“darling,” you called from your place on the couch, voice dripping with false concern.

nanami sighed. “what.”

you turned to him with wide, sympathetic eyes. “who hurt you?”

he gave you a look. “the world.”

“tragic,” you sighed, patting the spot beside you. “come, sit. tell me all about it. i’ll be your emotional support animal.”

nanami stared at you for a long moment before slowly, exhaustedly, sinking onto the couch beside you.

he leaned his head back against the cushions, closing his eyes. “long day.”

“i knew it,” you said, crossing your arms. “i could feel the tragic main character energy radiating off you the moment you walked in.”

nanami didn’t even open his eyes. “don’t start.”

“don’t start?” you echoed, scandalized. “nanami kento, have we met?”

he sighed again, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

you saw the cracks forming.

so you leaned in, lowering your voice dramatically. “he’s struggling. he pinches the bridge of his nose, a man burdened by the weight of responsibility. his jaw tightens. his shoulders are stiff. but through it all—he remains strong.”

nanami’s eyes finally opened, just so he could give you the flattest look imaginable.

“he sighs,” you continued, undeterred, “a sound so deep, so weary, it could shake the heavens. he suffers in silence—”

“i am not suffering,” nanami interrupted, voice heavy with exhaustion.

you gasped. “oh, but you are. a tortured soul, caught in the throes of capitalism and incompetence—”

“i regret coming home.”

“no, you don’t,” you said smugly, flopping against his side.

nanami exhaled as you rested your head against his shoulder. despite his complaints, he didn’t move away.

you tilted your head up to look at him, eyes twinkling with mischief. “oh? what’s this? a moment of vulnerability? has the brooding sorcerer finally let down his walls?”

he shut his eyes again. “i am begging you to stop narrating my life.”

“never,” you said firmly.

nanami groaned, but there was no stopping you now.

“and yet,” you whispered dramatically, “despite all odds… despite his desperate pleas for peace… he allows the menace to stay.”

“no choice,” he muttered. “you’d just break in if I locked the door.”

“he knows me well,” you agreed. “and, deep down, perhaps… he even likes it.”

nanami huffed.

but it wasn’t his usual exhausted sigh. it was softer. lighter.

you grinned.

“oh?” you gasped. “was that—”

“no,” nanami said immediately.

“it was. it was a laugh. a chuckle, even!” you sat up, turning to face him fully. “i’ve done it. i’ve cracked the code!”

nanami opened one eye. “do you ever run out of energy?”

“nope,” you said, popping the ‘p.’ “and lucky for you, i’m here to restore yours.”

before he could respond, you swung a leg over his lap, straddling him. nanami blinked up at you, looking both unimpressed and amused.

“ah,” he said dryly, hands settling on your hips. “so this is your great cure for exhaustion.”

“it’s part one,” you said, reaching up to smooth your fingers through his hair.

he hummed, closing his eyes for a brief moment as you massaged his scalp.

“and part two?” he asked, voice lower now.

you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

“this,” you murmured, trailing kisses along his cheek, down to his jaw.

nanami let out a slow breath, his grip on your hips tightening just slightly.

“mm,” he hummed. “better than your usual nonsense.”

“excuse me,” you scoffed, pulling back to glare at him. “my nonsense is the reason you’re feeling better right now.”

he tilted his head, considering. “debatable.”

you gasped.

“how dare you.”

nanami smirked, tilting his head back against the couch, waiting for your inevitable response.

you narrowed your eyes, then grabbed his face with both hands and smushed his cheeks together.

“take it back,” you demanded.

he made a noise of protest, voice muffled by your hands.

“what was that? didn’t quite catch it,” you said, grinning.

nanami exhaled sharply through his nose. then, without warning, he grabbed your wrists, flipped you onto the couch, and pinned you beneath him in one smooth motion.

you blinked up at him, momentarily stunned.

“you were saying?” nanami asked, leaning down so his nose brushed yours.

“um,” you squeaked. “hello.”

his lips twitched. “hello.”

you cleared your throat, regaining your composure. “so, what i meant was—”

nanami kissed you before you could finish.

it was slow, lingering—his lips warm and steady against yours.

when he pulled back, his thumb brushed along your cheek. “thank you,” he murmured.

you blinked. “for what?”

“for making me laugh,” he admitted. “for making me feel… lighter.”

your chest ached at how soft he sounded.

so, naturally, you ruined the moment.

“so you do admit my nonsense is good for you.”

nanami sighed. “i should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“too late,” you said smugly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “now come back here and kiss me again, grumpy man.”

nanami huffed. “menace.”

but he kissed you anyway.

[tubbytarchia]

Missed drawing these two too

Bonuses

[ghostsgrl666]

roommate!ghost who isn't good with words, who expresses himself by grabbing your jaw, fingers pressing into your soft skin as his thumb comes up to pull on your bottom lip. The only thing you can manage in response is to curl your tongue around it, wetting his rough skin. It's as obscene as the sound of his fingers fucking in and out of you, curling at that perfect spot until your eyes start to flutter closed. Suddenly he pulls your head forward, that piercing stare now level with you. Just a look, the slightest tremor of his brow, tells you what he wants. eyes open for me.

Always, you comply, studying the ring of breathtaking color around his widened pupils as you feel your orgasm building within you. He can feel it too, you can tell by the way his jaw locks in concentration. give it to me, the huffs of his quickening breath say as he pushes you further and further to the edge. The labored rise and fall of your chest gives way to a punched out whine of his name as you come, hips riding his hand as his forehead finds yours. His nose brushes yours every time your hips cant forward, a desperate kiss finally finding your lips that feels like I fucking love you.

He's no good with words, but in his lips lie a thousand more I love you's waiting to be kissed.

[yoke9494]

*Originally written for the fic Songbird. (Over and done with) *Teen Nanami*

*Geto had planted a big smooth on you after you were stolen and then brought back after a mission gone wrong.

* Y/n doesn't know how to feel-- about anything? It was her first kiss after all. Plus she's basically Gojo's future wife that he doesn't want!.. but he gave Geto permission to like her? Ruffle her feathers? Yep. it's messy.

*Nanami has a crush and so does Geto. (Fuck Geto) *Not really..*

*Hibara likes drama.

Crack one shot

___________________________

Hibara put his finger under his chin in thought. "I can't see it. Show me again?"

You gave him a droll look and held out your hands in front of you. Pretending that you were Geto and the empty space between your hands was your own head.

You puckered your lips before opening them and sticking your tongue out.

Haibara snorted.

You got embarrassed and dropped your hands and put your tongue back into your mouth. "Then he started wiggling it and I got scared.."

Haibara fought back his laugh. It was obvious Geto liked you but he seemed to have forgotten that you had no experience with the opposite sex. It was cute--- but Hibara also knew a secret that you didn't--

He sighed. "I still can't tell you what it means. You're not showing me right."

You let out an exaggerated groan. "I'm trying my best here. It's not like I have the balls to go ask him to help me recreate it."

Haibara scoffed and began to think again. "We need to find you a dummy or something--"

Soft footsteps rounded the corner. "Y/n. The vending machine is out of that melon soda you like so I just got you a Coke.-- Why are you looking at me like that Hibara?"

Perfect. Just the dummy he was thinking of.

Nanami wore a bored look as he walked up to the both of you and handed you both your drinks.

Haibara wore the biggest smile. "Show me how Geto kissed you on Nanami!"

You gasped while Nanami choked on the soda he had just started drinking.

(Nanami) "I beg your pardon?--- wait, Geto kissed you?! When?"

(Hibara) "Laid a nasty one on her last night.--"

Why didn't you think of that! Nanami was perfect!

You held your hands together in a begging motion while Nanami looked at you with pink cheeks. "Please Nanami. May I violate your mouth? It's for science!"

Nanami felt like the air was getting thicker. But he kept his cool. "Absolutely not. Your thirst is showing Y/n. Drink your coke."

Ouch.

But Hibara wasn't giving up. He knew Nanami was fighting himself right now.

"Come on Nanami. It's not like you're getting girls to pucker up anytime soon... Especially with that hair."

You turned away to laugh under your breath while an irk mark appeared on Nanami's forehead.

"That's rude. Not only you judging me about my hair but the fact that you guys think I'm a whore."

You choked on air while Hibara's eyes went wide.

You caught your breath. "We don't think you're a whore! I asked you because I know for a fact you aren't one. I know where you've been and who you've been with.. Here with us! And the only dicking down you do is on some bread."

Nanami didn't know how to feel about that. And he did love bread.. just not that way?

He crossed his arms. Might as well go with it.. His poor dumb asses. "If you're using me as some lab rat. I at least need to be wined and dined first. What kind of girl do you think I am?"

Hibara laughed. "Clueless. You're pretending to be Y/n remember?"

You nodded but then got it a few seconds later. "Hey! I'm not-- okay maybe a little.." Your shoulders dropped. "Okay. I'm dumb..."

Nanami rolled his eyes. "You're not dumb. You were just deprived of simple pleasures and locked in a cage for who knows how long. And right now, I think Geto is just taking advantage of you. Since he and Yaga were the ones to find you and he thinks---- Did he even ask to kiss you?"

You couldn't really remember if he did?

Again Hibara knew. "Shoko said, that Gojo said, it was like in the movies when they just run to one another and start eating each other's face. I think Geto was just happy his girlfriend was back."

Your cheeks began to sting. "Girlfriend?! I'm not--"

Hibara cut you off. "Yeah. Okay. But I mean like-- How do I say this without being an ass." He scratched his head. "You sort of lead him on? Gosh that sounds awful.. I know you don't mean it but.--"

Nanami sighed. "He means! You and Geto hang around a lot... Touch a lot. He obviously likes you and probably thinks you like him too. "

You shrugged. "I do like him, I like everyone? And we touch a lot cause we have to? We both summon curses so he's helping me train. And helping me with hand to hand combat on the side since I suck at it and Gojo's just mean to me when we're supposed to spend time together.."

They both hummed.

(Hibara) "It's a different kind of like. The way you like him is different from the way you like us right?"

(Y/n) "I don't get it.."

Nanami felt a small pinch of jealousy in his chest. Geto wasn't a bad guy but-- He was so much older than you-- or should he say more experience? He was just trying to find every excuse to make him seem not right for you.

Nanami scoffed. "How do you feel when you're around him?"

You thought for a second. "Safe?"

Nanami almost laughed. "Even when Gojo's bullying you and Geto just stands there?"

Damn, it got quiet... Even the birds outside stopped singing.

Hibara cleared his throat.

But you spoke before he could. "I don't think he has a choice on that. The Gojo Clan basically bought me for that jerk so he can do with me as he pleases.. Even if he wanted to, Geto can't do anything about it."

Nanami shrugged. "Or he's just an asshole like his best friend Gojo. He wants to pluck the pretty flower instead of letting her flourish in a garden."

Hibara tilted his head. "Damn that's a good one."

You on the other hand were still lost? The last thing on your mind was falling in love anyways. Would it be nice to feel it one day? Hell yeah! But again, you belonged to the Gojo Clan, promised to be Satoru's wife one day. And you'd never love him the way you read about love or watched it in a movie..

Nanami just wanted to change the subject. He doesn't know why he's being jealous. Even if he did have a crush on you, that didn't mean you felt the same. And if you ever did-- Y'know, like him or Geto.. You couldn't be with either of them for long anyways. Once you turned 20 you and Gojo would be married..

He sighed. This was as good as it was going to get. "So are you going to kiss me or not?"

You looked up. "Oh right! I almost forgot what we were originally talking about."

Nanami leaned in and closed his eyes-- but Hibara's hand stopped his face from going any closer to yours.

Nanami opened his eyes. "Disgusting."

(Hibara) "Rude. My hands are clean!"

You and Nanami shared a look.. (Sure they were.)

Hibara was hurt.. "Anyway! We need to set the scene! Y/n didn't just lean in a pucker up."

He stood up. "Okay. Nanami picture this! You were on your very first mission and just got done being man handled by a first grade curse! Then BAM! You were stolen and brought back!... I don't want to go through the whole story.."

He then turned to you. "Y/n. Imagine you're one of Jujutsu Techs attractive Playboys and the girl you probably love has finally returned after the school was turned upside down from her being missing!-- You just got done blaming yourself and literally losing your shit."

You tried to cut him off. You didn't hear about that last part. "He did?"

Hibara waved you off. He'd tell you about it later. "Not important right now... Action!"

Nanami rolled his eyes but this time he sat still. You weren't the one to make the first move anyways and he was pretending to be you... Right?

"Um okay." You felt nervous all of a sudden. You shouldn't be! It was just Nanami-- He and Hibara were your best friends..

(Hibara) "Come on Geto. Get on with it."

You scooted closer to Nanami and grabbed his head. A lot softer than Geto originally did to yours but--- Nanami's hair was really soft.

His face was warm due to his blush. He was really handsome up close... Even with his emo screamo haircut.

The closer you got the faster your heart raced. Was this normal?

Nanami closed his eyes and you copied the second your lips brushed against his. Again it wasn't the same way Geto kissed you, this was much softer.

Nanami had this surge of bravery and lifted his hand to hold your cheek. Slowly moving to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss.

(Hibara) "Do you guys need to breathe yet?"

Neither of you hear him..

Your brain was short circuiting and you completely forgot what to do. What did Geto do next?

Oh right.

Your tongue touched his bottom lip and Nanami hesitantly let you in. But this is where you didn't know what to do..

So Nanami took over. Slowly swirling his tongue around yours. He's read about kissing like this in books so he understood it a little more than you did.

Though you both were still a bit lost and messy with it...

Oh, did I forget to mention.. This was Nanami's first kiss too? Oops..

Hibara smiled but it quickly faded. Was he really watching his two friends learn how to kiss while smiling like a creep? Wtf...

"Uh, you guys im gonna like, go get something from the vending machine. Don't make babies while I'm gone."

Again you two didn't even hear him. The only thing Hibara heard when he rounded the corner was.

(Nanami) "Breath through your nose idiot."

(You) "Sorry!"

Before it got nasty with the wet sounds again..

Hibara chuckled to himself when he finally reached his destination. "They're both hopeless... But am I a good wing man or what?"

He didn't expect anyone to answer. Well they didn't but a familiar deep voice called out to him.

"Hibara. Have you seen Y/n around?"

He turned to smile at his upperclassmen. "Sorry Geto. But I'm on my way to go find her now. Pretty sure she's with Nanami in the rec area."

Geto stood there while Hibara looked at the bag in his hand. "Did you bring stuff back from your mission? How was it?"

Geto gave off a smile. "It was fine. Over and done with pretty quickly." He sort of swayed on his feet. "I brought her some stuff she likes back-- Y'know.. As an apology for what happened the other day.-- Did she mention anything about being angry with me or?"

Oh Hibara loved drama. He pretended to think. "Hm? Not that I know of.. But again she's been with Nanami a lot so maybe ask him?"

Geto nodded."Should we go find them then? I think I need to explain myself."

No shit..

Hibara snorted. "Sure! Let's go!."

.................

[moonstruckme]

hi! i was wondering if you could make some more bartender!sirius x reader stories! anything works really! i love love love your writing 💞

Thanks for requesting ml!

cw: attempted sa, police are called (but don't worry, everything is fine)

bartender!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Sirius isn’t ashamed to say he’s had his eye on you tonight. You’re a sweet-looking thing, with sparkly eyes and a big, genuine smile that you’d beamed right at him as you ordered your drink. You got your first couple from Marlene, but most recently you came up to him. You’d leaned your elbows on the bar, looked at him with those lovely eyes, and said all the pleases and thank yous and may Is that always make Sirius want to climb over the counter and hug the customers who use them. He'd have comped your drink if you weren’t clearly here with someone else. 

And that someone else seems to be infatuated with you. Appropriately so, Sirius thinks. He takes your hand to lead you over to a couch along the wall, and he nods so eagerly while you speak that it looks like his head is on a spring, and when you turn to look at something he’s pointed out he reaches over and—

“Hey!” 

Several heads turn at Sirius’ shout, but the important part is that yours does. Not before your lips close around the straw of your drink, though. Sirius doesn’t have to work to convey urgency in his expression—that comes quite naturally. He waves his hand to beckon you back to the bar.

You obey, not looking upset but rather tentative as you make your way through the crowd. Your date stands with you, but something in Sirius’ face must tip him off. He disappears towards the exit. Sirius wants to go after him and strangle the bloke with his own two hands, but he’ll have to worry about that later. 

“Don’t drink that,” he says once he thinks you’re within earshot. 

You’re not, evidently. “What?” 

“Give it here.” Sirius leans across the bar, reaching for your drink. It’s only the caution in your expression that reminds him to say, “Please.” 

You hand it over, eyebrows raising when he brings it behind the bar and immediately pours it into the sink. 

“Erm…am I going to be refunded for that?” 

Sirius shakes his head, but managing a breathless, frazzled, “Yeah.” 

He feels so far out of his depth. Nothing like this has ever happened during one of his shifts—at least, fuck, not that he knows of. Sirius isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do. 

He starts by looking you in the eyes. “The bloke you were with put something in your drink.” 

Your lips part, brows twitching together. “What? No, he…” You turn your head, clearly expecting your date to be right behind you. Sirius watches your face change as you realize he’s nowhere to be seen. 

When you turn back to him, he can see the beginnings of fear in your gaze. His hand makes its way across the bar of its own accord, squeezing your wrist before tugging you gently towards the nearest barstool. 

“I saw it happen,” he says firmly. “Do you want to sit here with me for a bit?” 

“I don’t…yeah, please.” You look dazed. Understandably dazed, in Sirius’ opinion. You slide onto the stool and slouch to rest your elbows on the bar. “I don’t feel any different. I only had a sip.” 

“It might not be enough to do anything,” he agrees. “I’m not sure, honestly. But it’s probably a good idea for you not to be alone just in case, yeah?” 

You nod hesitantly. Sirius strokes a short line into the inside of your wrist, and when you look up at him those pretty eyes are wet. 

“I’m already drunk,” you say, quietly, your voice on the edge of breaking. “How am I s’posed to know if it’s working?” 

“I’m sure you’d know,” says Sirius, though honestly he’s not very sure of that himself. Guys don’t learn much about these things, not the way girls have to. “You’re alright, darling. We’ll take care of you up here, you’re totally safe. Do you mind if I phone the police?” 

Your eyes widen to glossy saucers, the true gravity of your situation seeming to sink in. 

“It’s just standard procedure,” he adds quickly. 

“Right.” You blink, sniffling. “Um, sure.” 

“Beautiful.” Sirius shoots you a smile. “Be right back. Marl,” he gets his coworker’s attention, “keep an eye on her, yeah?” 

Marlene looks confused and then intrigued as she spots you weeping at the other end of the bar, but she makes her way to you. 

Sirius’ call with the police is brief. They make him regret tossing out your drink before it could be tested, but they tell him to keep you at the bar and they’ll be there soon to question you. When he goes back inside, you look far better than he’d left you, face tearstained but dry and nursing what looks to be a plain coke topped by a mountain of cherries. 

“Blimey, did you ask for extra?” Sirius asks, taking his place in front of you. Marlene, helping a customer at the other end of the bar, shoots him a grimace that lets him know you’ve told her what happened. 

“I asked for a few,” you say, picking one of your cherries up by the stem and popping it in your mouth. “I think she feels bad for me.” 

Sirius laughs. “No, Marlene doesn’t feel bad for anyone. She probably just likes you.” 

“Really?”

“Yup. Almost as much as she hates our manager.” He winks at you. “Her latest plot is to rob him blind by way of bar napkins and maraschino cherries. But you didn’t hear that from me.” 

Your lips twitch into something dangerously close to a smile. You draw a line across them, pretending to zip them shut. 

“So,” you say, looking down to fish another cherry from your glass, “did you give the police my regards?”

Sirius smiles at your forehead. “I did. They said it’s been far too long, and they’d like to come here to chat with you themselves.” 

You huff a laugh. “That’s funny, you’d think they’d’ve gotten their fill of me when I was in the nick last week.” 

Sirius laughs, delighted. 

You look up with a wry smile. “Kidding,” you whisper. 

“Oh, I’m so disappointed.” He props his chin on his hand, letting his head loll to the side. “And here I was thinking you were a rebel outside the law.” 

You shrug, smile fading as the melancholy turn your night has taken seems to take you under again. “Sorry to lead you astray,” you say anyway. 

“No, don’t worry about it.” Sirius studies you. You look understandably worried, a tad wistful too, but still that same sweet girl who’d come up to order from him at the bar. “If you are concerned about the cops catching onto your jailbird alter-ego, I could always stay with you when they get here. If you want company.” 

Your expression melts into gratitude, the fretful line of your brow softening and your eyes filling with relief. They start to go shiny again. “That would be great,” you say. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t worry about it, doll.” Sirius reaches across the bar, giving your hand an awkward pat. “Just don’t cry again, please? It kills me a little bit.”

[canisalbus]

i decided today was as good a day as any other to learn how to 3d sculpt and then trace and animate the model…

so i made a little machete to spin in my head

(i still want to fix the snout length a little so it looks consistent, but i feel like it’s a pretty good first attempt at this)

hope you have a nice day and nicer ones to come! :)

.

[elalalune]

Reaching through the looking glass

(Wonderland au)

[captivating-flavors]

maybe | sylus

pairing: sylus x non mc assassin!reader

prompt: -

summary: maybe it was not as one-sided as you thought it was.

words: 2,441

warning(s): period, hurt/comfort

a/n: thats the longest ive ever written ever in my entire life. inspired by period and this. enjoy?? reblogs, comments and feedbacks are much appreciated <3

masterlist

There was a high-grade protocore that had been stolen en route to the Onychinus base a few days ago. You managed to track it down and found that the theft had been arranged by one of the auction houses and that it was going to be auctioned off tomorrow night. Therefore, you had to go in and retrieve the protocore tonight.

To say it was complicated was an understatement, since apparently the auction house took liberty to strengthen their security system and increase the number of guards on standby ever since the stolen protocore landed in their warehouse, but using your inconspicuousness evol, you managed to avoid detection until the moment you lifted the protocore and the alarms started blaring. Which had alerted the guards to storm the warehouse.

Going on missions whilst being on your period was a normal thing but one thing you didn’t see coming was the excruciatingly painful period cramp that hit you mid-fight, despite you already taking painkillers for it earlier.

“Oh god. Talk about bad timing.” You groaned to yourself as you knocked the last one of the guards, who had nicked your side with the tip of his knife, with the butt of your empty gun.

You could still hear a swam of footsteps coming from outside the warehouse. More guards were coming. On a normal day, you would’ve been able to take them out but today, you could no longer stand upright due to the pain of the cramps, so you opted to use your evol to sneak away and drove–more like speed off on– your bike straight to base instead.

You had no idea how you even managed to drive yourself to base but you managed and upon arriving at the base, you were almost doubled over due to the pain, as you had your arm to your stomach whilst having your hand still clutching on to the protocore. You used your free hand to support yourself against the wall as you walked to Sylus’ office, with great effort.

“What’s up, Bossman?” You were trying to be casual with your tone, but you were sweating and breathing heavily due to the fight and pain, mostly the pain. “Guess what? Mission accomp–”

And everything went black.

-

“Y/N!” Sylus shouted as he ran towards your body, which fell to the ground with a hard thud, the protocore falling out of your grasp and rolling away to some corner.

The first thing he noticed as he cradled your upper body was how pale you were. It was like blood had rushed away from your body. The second thing he noticed were the blood stains on your clothes.

“Luke! Kieran!”

The twins rushed over to the office upon hearing his shout, “Yes, Boss.”

“Get the doctor. Now!” Sylus said as he picked you up from the ground and left the office to lie you down on his bed.

A million different thoughts swirled in his brain. What poison was it? Where can he find the antidote? Was it deadly? Why else would you collapse like that? You’ve had stab wounds, broken bones and gunshot wounds before, and it never made you collapse the way you just did. Worst of all, was he going to lose you?

“I heard you called for me, Mr. Sylus.” The doctor said as she entered the room.

“Help her.”

“May I ask what happened?”

“She came back from a mission and passed out. I think she’s been poisoned.”

The doctor moved to your side and started to examine you. She gently pressed her finger on to the skin under your eye before slightly dragging it downward, noting that you had a pale conjunctiva, surmising that you must’ve been bleeding somewhere. The doctor started by cutting you out of the blood-soaked fabric before proceeding to disinfect and bandage the cut on your side with a waterproof bandage.

Sylus could only watch as you lay unconscious on his bed. He wanted to do something to quench the gnawing worry eating at him. The fact that there was nothing he could do to get you to wake up sooner ate at him as he was forced to stand and watch as the doctor further examined your body for more injuries. The more time passes, the angrier he got, and he swore that once he found out who did this to you–his precious girl–he would make them pay.

“I–uh… I don’t think it’s poison, sir.”

“Why has she passed out, then?” Sylus snapped, failing to keep his anger at bay.

“It seems to be because of her period.”

“Period?” Sylus stopped his pacing, confused.

“Yes, she came to me this morning for some painkillers for her cramps. She’d come to me several times before as well due to her heavy flow and cramps. But seeing as she’s still engaging in strenuous activities despite both might’ve caused her to collapse.”

Sylus stayed silent, which prompted the doctor to continue, “I will be prescribing her usual painkillers and some iron supplements as well this time, since it appears to me that she is also anemic. Please make sure that she takes them after her meal and that she stays away from strenuous physical activities for the time being.”

“How long is she going to be out for?”

“She should be up in about half an hour.”

“Is there anything else that could help her with the pain?”

“You could use a heat pad on her abdomen area, that should help ease the pain.”

Sylus nodded, “Alright. Thank you.”

The doctor placed the bag of medication on the bedside table before bowing and leaving the room, leaving Sylus to wait for you to regain consciousness by the chair he had pulled on to the space beside his bed.

-

You opened your eyes to a familiar yet unfamiliar scene. You’d been here before, but this was most definitely not your room.

“Where am I?” Your mind foggy and your own voice sounded groggy and scratchy as you attempted to get up, wincing at the sharp pain on your side.

Sylus stopped you from getting up, “You’re in my bedroom, Sweetie.”

“What… What happened?”

“You passed out on me.”

“Sorry about that.” You let out a small cough, propping yourself up against the headboard before continuing, “But I managed to secure the goods, didn’t I?”

Sylus walked over to the table in front of the couch to pour a glass of water before handing it over to you. “Thanks.” You said, before dunking the contents of the glass.

There was a short pause as he watched you, “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve sent someone else instead.”

“Tell you what?”

“That you were in pain because of the cramps.”

“It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

“What do you mean it’s not a big deal? You passed out. You–” His increasing tone had you looking up at him, it was not like him to show such… concern? He had to clench his fists to stop himself from raising his voice because he knows that’s not the first thing you need upon waking up before continuing, “I thought I was going to lose you.”

 “Well, you didn’t. It would take a lot more than that to take me out.” You chuckled softly averting your gaze from his, still puzzled by the emotion so clearly displayed on his red orbs.

“I know. You’re a big girl.”

“But it would be a shame if that took me out, wouldn’t it? You know for a fact that no one can finish these missions as efficiently as I can.” You let out a smile as you said it.

Sylus sighed, “That’s not what I meant, Kitten.”

You were about to respond but instead let out a curse as you felt your cramps coming back. “Shit.”

“Here. The doctor said a heat pad would help.” He said as he handed a heat pad over to you.

You were still puzzled, but you took it and put it over the lower part of your stomach, “Thanks.” The heat pad did make your cramps feel slightly more manageable.

Sylus looked at you for a second and got up to go into the bathroom. You then heard the sound of water running and the sounds of Sylus rummaging through something. After about ten minutes, he walked out of the bathroom and stood by the bedside.

“C’mon let’s get you cleaned up first.” Sylus said as he tried to pick you up.

You held your hand out to stop him, “Whoa. I can walk myself.” You tried to stand on your own but staggered, clearly underestimating the pain you would feel as you stood.

He reached out but you rejected his help yet again, “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

“Just because you’re used to it doesn’t mean you’re not in pain, Y/N. Let me help you.” He said as he reached an arm behind you to keep you steady and added, “Please.” Gentleness and desperation(?) laced in his voice.

“Okay.” You eventually relented and let him carry you into the bathroom.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to help you. It’s just that you didn’t want his actions to water any seeds of delusion that you have about how your relationship could be something more.

Sylus put you on your feet in front of the bathtub before turning around to let you get out of your clothes. You quipped, “It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”

“I’m being respectful, Kitten.”

You shut off the water and tested it with your hands, suds sticking to your wet palm. You got into the tub and said, “You can turn around now.”

Sylus then walked over to the tub and knelt beside it, watching you as his arm rested on the edge of the tub. You felt uncomfortable under his gaze. It was too… warm and tender.

“Quit looking at me like that.” You grumbled, splashing some of the water onto his rolled-up sleeves.

“Like what?” The warmth in his gaze now had hints of mirth within it as he smirked.

“Like I’m some wounded stray you picked up off the street.”

He laughed, the sound deep, rich and velvety. “Oh, Sweetie, you’re so much more than that.” His hand reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You coughed. The heat rushing to your cheeks and the pounding of your heart prompted you to change the subject, “Sorry about your sheets. I’ll clean it up later.”

“It’s fine, Kitten. I can handle it. I’ve handled much worse.”

The two of you stayed there in silence for a while. Usually, you would’ve come up with something witty to say but the warmth of the water felt too good on your aching stomach. Sylus was the one to break the silence, “I’ll get the chef to make you some food.” He then stood and added, “The towels, pads and change of clothes are over on the counter.”

He left you in the bathroom to your own devices, where you decided you would soak in the warmth a little bit longer. It felt nice to just relax for a bit, especially after the mission you’ve been on but you couldn’t help your thoughts that were starting to wander off to Sylus.

Several months ago was when you first realized that you were falling for him, but you knew you had to keep it under wraps since it has always been nothing more than something casual between the two of you. That had been the agreement, hadn’t it? No strings attached, just business. And pleasure, sometimes.

However, the warmth and tenderness in his gaze tonight was really… unfamiliar. He had always treated you well, of course, but tonight it felt as if he was being overly sweet and that unsettled you, as it gave you hope for something more. Could you, though? Could you ask for something more?

The coldness of the tub water brought you out of your thoughts. Guess you stayed in the tub longer than you thought. You got out of the tub and straight into the shower, before changing into the fresh set of clothes Sylus had prepared for you.

Sylus glanced up at you from the stack of papers as you walked out of the bathroom. “Come. Sit.”

You looked around the room to see that the sheets had been changed. You walked over towards the desk and sat on the chair opposite him; a plate of steak and a bowl of tomato soup was laid out in front of the stack of papers he was going through. “What…?”

“Eat. You’ll have to take your medicine.”

You ate in silence as he went through more of the paperwork on his desk. Eventually, he’d left you alone to shower. After you were done with the food, you took the meds as instructed on the packaging and you scrambled to gather your things.

“Where are you going?” Sylus’ voice startled you.

“To my place…?” The statement came out more like a question, because you yourself weren’t entirely sure. You weren’t exactly in the condition where you could manage the walk to your apartment three blocks away, but you’d never stayed the night before.

“It’s late. You should just stay the night.”

“…Is it okay for me to?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Sylus gave you a puzzled look as he got out of his towel and into his robe.

“I mean… I’ve never stayed the night… Even after,” You gestured between the two of you, “you know.”

“You’re always gone before I could ask you to stay, Kitten.”

His unwavering gaze and response got you speechless, “Oh.”

“Yes, oh. Just get on the bed and sleep, yeah?” He chuckled before turning the lights off.

“Wait, Sylus.”

“Yes, Sweetie.”

“Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Anything.” He replied as he walked over and laid down on to the other side of the bed.

You turned to look at him, “Will you hold me?”

“I wasn’t planning not to, Kitten. Turn over.” He said as he reached onto the bedside table to grab a heat pack. He pulled the sheets of over the both of you before resting his arm over your body, holding the heat pack against your abdomen.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Sylus.”

You felt your eyes growing heavy by the minute. The warmth of his body pressed on to your back was all too comforting. One thought did swirl around your head before you fell asleep, though.

‘Maybe it’s not as one-sided as I thought it was.’

[fraugwinska]

I've seen fanfics about Alastor × deaf reader

But what about.. blind reader? Maybe they lost sight in some battle

How they would be confused meeting Alastor at first: did someone turn the radio on- oh, thats a demon talking!

And how confused would be Alastor as his feelings started to grow towards the reader: he just enjoys their company! What else can he do when they like to listen to him spilling the tea and just rambling about everything because of his soothing voice? His favourite listener

Then.. their relationships get a bit different as in another one relaxing evening together Alastor asks if they want to see him..

And on their confused silence he answers bringing their hands to his face for them to "read" his apperience..

Just thought it would be hella fun to read! Not good enough at english, sorry for mistakes

I love your writtings! 💕Stay hydrated and don't dare to overwork yourself ☝

Hiya lovely Anon! <3 I put my own little spin on your idea! I love fics like those, and this one sat in my drafts for ages - I hope the wait was worth it! Thank you so much for this ask! <3 Warning: Contains depictions of attempted SA, please read with caution - MINORS DNI!

The bookstore was always quiet in the evenings. Well, it was quiet almost always.

Hell wasn't the most... appreciative place for tombs and books that didn't have porn or egregious murder in them, so your shop wasn't really frequented much. Occasionally, a new sinner would find their way in, not yet taken by the unpunished excessiveness Pentagram City had to offer, and would buy a book or two, never to be seen again. The rest of your clientele were loyal regulars, mostly elderly demons and imps getting books for their masters in other rings. It wasn't much, but enough for you to get by, live a simple, modest life. Your shop was mundane enough as to not attract the more dangerous ones the city had to offer, yet held the beauty that only an antique bookstore could, with a reading room like atmosphere, mismatched armchairs scattered in between the high bookshelves and an old radio on the counter playing in the background.

That didn't mean there weren't moments you'd have to get yourself out of some serious situations. On rare occasions, the patrons of your bookstore became too demanding or rough with you, thinking they could intimidate or screw you over because of your... handicap. After all, how would you see the hand reaching in the register, or the little spell book slipping into the inside pocket of a jacket. The blindness you were born with on earth hadn't left you in your death, but the enhanced sensitivity of your other senses made things easier for you. You had learned to take your losses, unwilling to let these moments ruin your confidence in your work or diminish your spirits.

You navigated through the little store with ease, putting laid-out books back into their designated places - feeling the backs of the books like it spelled their names, and motion memory guiding you through the maze of furniture and shelves - your plain, long felt skirt softly brushing this edge and that wood panel. What you wore wasn't fancy, modern or stylish attire, but it was comfortable enough. And who were you kidding? At the end of the day, nobody cared for your less-than-ordinary appearance, but yourself.

Your mind had been drifting around between random topics for a while until, on your last trip back to the front desk, your round ears picked up the bell on your door and the faint sound of staticy talking, coming from the direction of the counter. A customer, at this hour no less! But you were sure you had turned off the radio hours ago... maybe the old thing was finally breaking down, you thought with a little sadness. You hurried to it, still hung back in your thoughts and babbling as you turned the desk to shut the little device off so your customer wasn't disturbed.

"Hello, I'm terribly sorry if you're bothered by the radio, I should have turned it off. Feel free to browse through-" you paused mid-sentence as the air shifted slightly. You had turned the familiar knob but the filtered voice didn't stop talking. Your ears moved around, as if the source was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, trying to determine its source, when the other occupant of the store laughed at the surprise written on your face.

"Apologies aren't necessary my dear, but that wasn't the little device here but me, asking for service. Although I'm quite fond of a little old fashioned tune - comes with the title of the Radio Demon, you see." He talked with amusement, or something in his tone seemed powerful and dangerous. As his words started to make sense to you, you held a sharp breath, struggling not to take a step back. Of course you've heard of Alastor, the Radio Demon, but you've never had the honor (or dread) of meeting him in person. Rumors had spread around in hell a long time before you'd even gotten here, stories of a powerful overlord who'd broadcasted the screams and torments of his victims, spreading fear to everyone, from sinner, to lesser demons, to even other overlords themselves.

"W-welcome to my store, sir! What can I help you with today?" You smiled pleasantly, hoping that showing him respect and going out of your way for a courteous interaction could possibly keep you from being torn to pieces. You heard the ruffling of fabric - a hand reaching into a pocket, wrapping it's fingers around a thick piece of paper, along a low, distorted chuckle. "A good friend of mine recommended your store to me, I am looking for a few... unusual books, hopefully to be found here."

You waited into the silence, one second, two, three. When he said nothing, only static noise slowly increasing in volume, you decided to speak again. "May you tell me the titles, sir?"

"If you'd take the list, little mouse, everything I need is on it." His voice had an edge of annoyance to it now. You didn't know when his presence had approached so close to where you stood, and couldn't decide if that was a good sign or not. You sighed, pulling the darkened glasses off you wore day in, day out, revealing the white irises that gave your blindness away. After a sound like a record scratch, you managed a helpless smile. "I fear if it's not in braille, it won't do much to hand me that."

The other demon was silent again, but the crackling static had dropped, and before you had time to add something that wouldn't get you gutted, he'd barked a laugh, sounding genuinely amused and entertained.

"My, isn't that a bit cliché, my dear? A blind mouse? Any chance you have two siblings?"

That joke was new. You dared to husk out a little laugh, too, your hands gently resting on the counter top. "I hate to disappoint, but no. I even have my tail still, no farmers wife with a knife."

There was a change in his stance, his coat sweeping the air as you heard the list was laid on the wooden surface in front of you, surprisingly not crushed or crumbling under the power of his hand. Coldness swept like waves of fog over the front desk and your hands, you pulled them away with a shudder, confused, but your patron just hummed.

"There, that should've done the trick. I'd rather not want to read my little.... requests aloud, they're a rather curious bunch, I believe. Very useful, though, especially those for more creative types in cooking."

You reached for the paper and thumbed through the braille letters one after the other, feeling a long list of more... taboo tomes you were sure wouldn't have even been mentioned in any respectable catalogue. Luckily, you were a glutton for oddities and curiosities, and with a small smile of pride you found that you had every book on the list on hand. Maybe it was this pride thatgave you the confidence so that you didn't reply and instead swiftly jumped ahead, bustling through the rows and pillars of bookshelves. Every step was calculated, from the short staircase to the tiny nook where you stored spell books and tombs of dark magic, navigating past all the tables and furniture to the particular bookcase containing ritualistic cookbooks. Once you had a feeling where a book would be located, you searched the titles by stroking the backs with the pads of your fingers, tapping quickly and analyzing the material and little bumps and nicks of the spines. Once found, you traced the edges of the piece and drew up a mental image in your mind to check it wasn't bent, dirty, torn or had any parts missing. Your fingers were your eyes, and they were keen.

As you carried the rather heavy stack back, the Radio Demon hadn't moved an inch from where you'd left him, as far as you could tell. It had been hard not to acknowledge him throughout the ordeal while your brain just went on autopilot after realizing he didn't mean to kill you, at least for the moment. On one hand, that was comforting; on the other hand, it was absolutely horrifying.

"Here you go, sir. Please, feel free to check if they are up to your standards." You set the books down carefully, counting the number of thick covers in the stack to be sure and your fingers brushed sharp talons as apparently the Radio Demon reached out to inspect the books as you offered. With a sharp inhale and a heated face you quickly drew back, stammering apologies. He only chuckled faintly, the static surrounding him crackling as if it, too, was amused.

You stood silently behind the counter and listened to him flipping through the pages, turning the books around to read their contents, humming here and there. He seemed content with the lot and you were sure that once he'd paid, he would leave, hopefully sparing your meager existence and not leaving any destruction behind.

"Very well! These will do perfectly, little mouse. And, I have to say, you have a very interesting collection. The quality of your inventory exceeds what Zestial promised. You might expect a few more visits from me in the future, if you don't mind."

The last sentence wasn't a question. It was a statement, underlined with the sound of a heavy stack of bills placed on your counter. Your hands confirmed what your ears already suspected - your patron well overpaid you.

"Not at all, sir, but you gave me too much mon...."

But the air shifted again, and a chime and a thud later you knew he had already walked out, his laughter the last thing you heard before the door clicked shut.

“...ey.”

What a peculiar man, you thought, still processing the entire experience. His voice had been darling, no wonder he chose radio as his medium. You were sure his smile you've heard so many demons whisper about was wide and predatory, but he had been so polite. Even the nickname he'd given you had been charming, compared to the names and remarks you've had thrown at you by lesser demons, and you shook your head at the ridiculousness of your face flushing at the memory.

'Little mouse.'

After a long moment, you finally counted the money and put the amount he tipped you aside in your hidden safe, making a note to yourself that you would give it back to him when he'd return. If he'd return.

Weeks passed and the Radio Demon had kept his promise and visited again. And again. And again.

The first time he came back and you, already flustered, offered to give back the surplus money he'd paid you, he was baffled before he heartily laughed and ignored your attempts to return it to him, instead buying three more books and leaving you with even more undeserved cash in your hands.

Almost once a week he'd return to your store, sometimes he'd have a whole list of books he'd want to buy, and he almost never left your store with empty hands. Sometimes he'd sit down in one of the many chairs to peruse a tomb you set aside for him, predicting he'd find interest in it as you learned his tastes in literature, and he'd hum almost happily when you found a new curiosity or a grimoire that was especially hard to come by. And sometimes he just came in for a quick visit, not even intending to buy a book but just to chat a bit. With every encounter your initial apprehension shifted into appreciation, so much so that you'd grow to eagerly await his return, the sound the bell made when he enthusiastically swung the door open or the slight distortion of your radio when he changed the station to one that suited his mood better.

You were a bit enchanted with him, if you were honest. Not only had every interaction been intriguing and entertaining, he'd been one of the rare visitors who hadn't maliciously mocked or threatened you, or worse. And you found that you enjoyed the small banters you could have with him, the fact that he treated you no differently than anyone else. It was refreshing, and each of his visits put a spring in your step for days, no matter how hard you tried not to think about him.

By the time several months had passed, he became your favorite client and he seemed to have an everlasting interest in your inventory as well as yourself. You learned that he was quite a wealthy demon with a seemingly insatiable appetite for entertainment, and always with an eye for quality, which you vowed yourself to provide in return, if only to keep him coming back. You found you could spend hours with only him at the store over freshly made coffee, discussing various literary concepts and historical events he used as references, and it was a delight to laugh together about some particularly odd rituals in books like 'Old Spells to Cure Thievery' or 'Blood Rituals of the Flaying Kink'.

Sometimes, when you'd hand him a new find or a heavy tomb, his hands would lightly brush yours and his voice would drop and become a bit softer, quieter as he cooed his nickname for you - 'Little Mouse'. With your lack of vision, you didn't know how his face looked nor how his expression would've surely changed - but his voice took on a tone that would be fitting for a date, and the touches made you shiver lightly and tingle and you felt heat spread all over your chest and the pit of your stomach when he did. If your body betrayed those reactions on your face, he wouldn't tease you for them. At least, you never noticed if he did. Maybe he had the grace to simply not remark on them, you thought, for once grateful for your blindness so you wouldn't have to see your own - surely ridiculously dumbstruck - expression reflected in the windows of your storefront. But the physical contact between you became more frequent, more deliberately made, and you'd caught his own quiet sigh every now and again when he lingered for just a moment longer before the doorbell chimed and he'd leave again.

One evening, as you were cleaning up and preparing for tomorrow's customers, a soft knock on the already locked door pulled you out of the haze of your radio's gentle tune. Turning around, you moved slowly towards the sound of the interruption, adjusting your dark glasses.

"My apologies, but we're closed for tonight, please come back tomorrow."

There was no reply, no sound of footsteps and your ears strained to catch a whisper of a sound, to find a new hint as to who was outside. Another knock, harder now, sounded and this time it took all your courage to approach. Your hair stood at its roots as your hands rested at the wooden door, your senses tingling that you better not open - that danger stood in front of your store.

"Please go, we'll be open again tomorrow."

Your reflexes, acting faster than your brain, made you stumble back as the glass of your front doors shattered into a million pieces. In a panic you tumbled to the floor, hands over your face as the pieces broke apart on impact. There were voices, rough and foreign sounding, that accompanied the stomping of boots. You shuffled back on the ground, trying to get out of the way before being stepped or kicked upon, reaching to the walls and bookshelves to find some stability to guide you in getting away from what was coming towards you.

"T-take what you want, please, I won't stop you. Just... just take it and leave."

Your words were shaking in fear and the little hope that a verbal warning and submission would placate the robbers. To your horror the voices - two, if your panicked mind didn't fool you - erupted into raspy laughter and you realized then that money might not be the only thing these demons were after.

"You were right, Hank. This is going to be easier than I thought, look at how helpless the bitch is."

"Told 'ya, Tommy Boy. An' the best part..." supposedly the one called Hank said deviously, and you were yanked up at your wrists and thrown over what must've been your counter, your glasses slipping and breaking at the impact and your eyes dwelling with hot tears. You recognized this voice… just a few days ago this demon had come into the shop, just as Alastor was about to leave, lingering around the shop and leaving quickly mumbling a half-asses excuse without buying anything after you asked if you could help him find something and Alastor's static crackled dangerously. The same smell of sharp sweat and wet tobacco lingered around him, making your stomach turn. "... she can't tell anyone who we are. Hoh, look, her eyes are some freaky shit, 'n you bet her tits 're freaky, too. S'not even our damn birthday but looks like we got ourselves a gift. 'Ya wanna go first?"

"You know me - Don't mind if I do."

With a heart beating out of your chest and shallow breaths, you tried to feel with your only free hand for something, anything, to defend yourself with. You had to defend yourself. Anything would be better than what horrific thing they were about to do. There was only the flat, leather bound accounting book close by, but it was better than nothing, and in a motion of impulse and fear you slashed with it into the general direction you felt the weight of Tommy settle onto the counter top above you. His complice bellowed angrily, making your ears ring, and Tommy snatched the weapon from your hand to throw it away. His breath smelled of filth and cold ash, the skin of your throat burned when he wrapped his calloused hands around it.

"We're gonna show ya your fucking place, worthless blind cum-chunk bitch, an' when we're done with ya..."

There was a sudden, instant sound of feedback, a wet splatter and a horrified scream and hasty, fleeing footsteps before a wave of relief washed over you as your neck fell free from the intruders grasp and you heard a familiar voice.

"Oh, my dear fellow, do go on. I'd love to hear the end of that sentence." A low, distorted chuckle followed. Alastor sounded different - menacing. Bone-chilling. If those words would've been directed at you, you would've been mortified. But it sounded like honey in your ears, knowing who the recipient was. "Ah, how silly of me - surely it's much harder to speak without vocal chords."

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as the sounds of violence became ever more gruesome. A whipping sound, a wail and a choked gasp and two stomach-churning thuds of something hitting the floor.

"Well that's not handy at all - you can't even sign your pathetic pleas now. How unfortunate to be in such a vulnerable position, isn't it?"

A thud, then another - your stomach turned as the room got flooded with a different type of warmth. Your lungs and chest stung from the stench of iron and decay and your throat hurt as you realized one aura had vanished from the store and Tommy was most likely reduced to a fleshy pile on the ground. Suddenly you felt a sharp but warm, strangely long but familar hand cradling the back of your skull, pressing your cheek against a broad, angled shoulder, another wrapped tightly around your shoulders, resting under your ears. It was quiet, now - you could only hear your staggered breathing and Alastors static that had gone down a notch or two. You thought his breathing had become more labored, too, when he slowly, gently, let go and straightened you to bring you to a standing position, his hands shifting into their usual shape as they came to rest lightly on your upper arms.

"Are you alright, dear?" His voice was almost back to the tone you were so fond of - almost. There still was an undertone, a dangerous sharpness. Your fingertips instinctively grasped and searched until they met with the familiar texture of his clothing and you nodded.

"Y-yes... I think so, yes. What - what happened to the other one?"

There was a deep laugh, one you haven't heard yet from him. "Oh, my dear, no need to fret over that. I'll deal with that pest later. I should've dealt with him the moment he stepped into your store. An oversight I intend to shortly redeem."

It should have frightened you - should've made the situation so, so much worse, hearing that Alastor planned more torture for that vile creature, probably even an equally gruesome death like the one his friend got. But his words only calmed you. Made you feel... safer. Your fingers lingered on his suit longer than you expected, tracing the detailed seams of his lapels, smoothing out invisible wrinkles on the fabric, feeling the details of the cool, metallic buttons. And he let you. He stood still, allowing your hands to see what your eyes couldn't.

"I can't decide if it's a blessing or a shame that you can't see the carnage I caused. Although I am pleased that you didn't have to look at the ugly faces of those cretins who tried to defile you." He took your hands from his coat and placed them softly on his face. "But maybe… you can try to envision what your savior looks like, hm?"

His hands left yours again, though you found the sensation and feeling of his touch remained where he placed them. Your heart fluttered as you couldn't keep yourself from running your palms and fingertips over his skin, cautiously tracing his angular jaw, making out the distinct feeling and sharp lines of a toothy grin. Then you pushed further, fingers running along a slight bow and over the indent where his brows arched, his cheekbones prominent enough you felt the warmth of blood flushing under the skin as the mental image of his face got clearer.

You were in awe that you could do this, that he encouraged it even, but he allowed you the tender moment, making a muffled humming sound and exhaling quietly under your soft, curious touch. You realized at last that his eyes were closed for you, the skin there slightly pliant and firm at the same time. With the tips of your fingers, you followed the firm, straight bridge of his nose down the length of it and he inhaled sharply when you brushed his lips. The familiar sound of static increased just enough for you to realize there had been complete silence aside from your soft and his steady breathing. He opened his eyes again, slowly taking your hands away to leave a feathery light, lingering kiss on your knuckles as he hummed thoughtfully.

"Now, let me clean up this mess, we don't want you stumble over any... unpleasant bits." You heard a snap and felt the air whirring around you, filling with a thick, fog-like sensation as you heard your floors creaking, wood mending and cracking and tiny bits of glass swirling around you, piecing itself together and returning into their frame. Not even a minute later the shop felt normal again, the unpleasant smell gone as well, and with it the overall apprehension the threat had caused.

"Thank you, Alastor. Truly, I don't know what would've happened if you weren't..." you started, pausing as his hands wandered gently around your face to put on your miraculously repaired glasses. He laughed softly, tapping a gentle, slender finger on the tip of your nose.

"Luckily we didn't find out, did we? Ah, but, unfortunately, I'd say the night has been spoiled for us, given that there's another vermin to take care of." He walked behind you, carefully setting the accounting book you had used as an attempted weapon into your hands, his taloned fingers curling gently around yours as if to make sure you had a proper hold on it.

"You lock up when I'm gone, little mouse. And who knows - Maybe we'll continue to see each other... tomorrow night."

And then you felt another gentle peck, this time on your flushed cheek, and the door opened with the bell ringing, the faint crackle of a radio fading and his heavy, signature scent of burned wood and bourbon lingering around you as you hurried to bolt the doors shut, heart racing painfully in your chest at the prospect of adding even more parts of the Radio Demon to the image in your mind.

[comatosebunny09]

insecurities | astarion a.

summary: “why don’t you like me?” he asks, his voice small amid the symphony of the forest dwellers. you choke on your spittle. how unlike your undead friend to sound so unsure of himself.

The night is quiet.

Most of your companions have retired to their tents. Tending to their weapons, reading, sleeping.

You’re left by the fire, snapping twigs to further kindle it. You smile quietly. The atmospheric pop and fizz bring you comfort as a summery breeze slides in.

You turn away in search of more wood when you hear a weighted sigh, followed by the thunk of the log behind you.

Seems someone’s decided to impede on your party of one.

You spin around to see your favorite vampire sitting opposite you on the log, his features accentuated by the fire. Astarion watches you with a pout on his lips and his brows knit together. You snort, wholly prepared for him to complain about something.

“What’s wrong, sunshine?” you query, squatting and poking around the campfire. “Our lodgings not to your liking? You break a nail? A rat crawl up into your ass?” Your eyes crinkle with mirth. 

Astarion leans back on his hands, one leg crossed over the other. He stares at you with those petulant eyes, studying you for a beat. It’s unlike him to be so serious. Silence stretches between you for a moment longer before he asks, “Why don’t you like me?”

You nearly choke on your spittle. His brazenness floors you. Literally. You plop down on the ground, dusting off your hands, your expression bemused. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come now.” He crosses his arms. Looks off to the side, face screwing up into a scowl. “You haven’t slept with me. You shrug off all my advances. Hells, it feels like you won’t even give me the time of day.”

Another snort. Your tone drips with sarcasm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I had to sleep with someone to show I cared.”

Astarion scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “Bullshit. Have you seen me? I’m irresistible. The very definition of sex on legs, so I’ve been told. People would kill for a chance at me. And I would’ve bedded you a thousand times over, had you stopped playing hard to get.”

You sigh. Laugh a little disbelievingly, slowly standing. “Astarion—”

“I’m not your type, am I? Do you even have a type? It’s Halsin, isn’t it? That oaf of a druid.”

You caution a few steps around the fire towards him, your hands stretched out placatingly. You’re exasperated. “Astarion, look—”  

“I don’t blame you. I would’ve bedded him, too.”

“Astarion!” 

You’re in front of him now. Bent over, gathering his icy cheeks into your palms. He looks at you with confusion marring his features. You have his attention, nonetheless.  

Your eyes gloss over with wetness. A forlorn smile rounds your lips. Your chest swells with emotion, and you tuck some errant curls behind Astarion’s ear.

“I thought we knew each other better than that.” You swallow before wetting your lips. You look down at the ground, inhaling deeply. Kneel before him, taking up his hands with all the gentleness of the world, your eyes shining with the threat of tears.

“You are more than your body, Astarion. More than some fling. More than a romp in the dirt. I wish you could see that. Sex is nice. Gods, it can be such an incredible thing. But I don’t need it to know I mean something to you. And I don’t need it to show you I adore you.”

Astarion blinks. For a moment, only the two of you exist in this world of chirping crickets and crackling fire. Tenderness flashes across his face before the vampire chuckles softly, patting your hands, squeezing them. His lashes flutter. He’s breathtaking.

“You adore me, do you?” Astarion purrs, his cockiness returning tenfold. “I am rather amazing, aren’t I?” He leans back again to have a look at his nails, radiating smugness.

You snort, standing and wiping your hands on your breeches. “You just had to muck it up, didn’t you?” You can’t help the quirk of your lips as you turn back to tend to the fire.

“Darling. Who would I be if I didn’t?”

“And to think, I was just about to kiss you.”

The indignant sound Astarion releases behind you makes your ribs blossom with pride.

Ah, well. Maybe next time.

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