#but all of them have a lot more allowance for childish moments | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

evieelyzabethh · 1 month ago

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"what dreams are made of"

��"sunsets or something, aren't you lovely" ⭒~ crush phase Arcane head cannons {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw fem!reader, massive amounts of fluff, slightly pervy jayce, not beta read

an ☞i know this blog has been very Buffy related for a bit but i wanted to try something new. Not that Buffy is abandoned forever, i just wanted to write for more than one fandom

♞Vi ♞

♞Vi tells herself she doesn't have a crush on you, nay, she doesn't even believe in crushes. She thinks they are childish and beneath her and would never even admit she has one. That being said, she is definitely "sweet" on you as Vander would've called it. Vi when having a crush would be an absolute disaster, and this she would be more than willing to admit on her own. Her words never seem to come out right, and even when they do, they're never taken the way she means. She said it herself, when presented a set of options, she somehow always manages to chose the wrong one. For a relationship with Vi to work, you would have to be patient.

♞She certainly doesn't know when enough is enough. She will hang outside of your place of employment, be it the Last Drop or Babette's and insist you allow her to walk you home. Her fists are the one thing she's confident in because there is no nuance in fighting. She doesn't think it's possible for you to be upset with her for beating the shit out of the guy who looked at you funny and would be confused when you get mad at her for this. It's not even that she thinks you are incapable of taking care of yourself, that's just the only way she can think to protect you without it going wrong (and it sometimes still does)

♞She would be into old school chivalry. In a modern, less serious AU, I think she would be the type to stand outside your house with a boombox to apologize because she accidentally shrunk your favorite expensive sweater in the wash. Even within Arcane, I think if she was feeling soft and comfortable enough, she would be the type to carry you over puddles so your shoes didn't get wet or throw stones at your window to get your attention. Not even to go on a big adventure, just to sit on a rooftop and to listen to her hum.

♞I don't think she'd be into getting her crush flowers. She's one of those types who is already hyper exposed to death and wouldn't want to get you anything that has the potential to die. She's not above having Jinx make you some trinket and trying to lie that she made it to impress you, but you know that it's not her handiwork. She does try, though, her and her sticky fingers. Anything your gaze lingers too long on somehow finds its way into your room with a handwritten note from her (her handwriting is shit by the way)

♞As stated above, she is terrible with words yet is most romantic in the most unexpected moments. She is totally the type to hang around doorframes just to lean on them and subtly flex. Does this work? No, but it's funny to see her try and be suave. She succeeds in smaller ways. She is always watching. She notices the small changes in the ways you look at her, knowing when you're trying not to laugh or need her to rescue you from a terrible conversation. The slightly deeper baritone she puts on when she asks, "you alright, pretty?", the way she guides you by the small of your back on instinct. She one of those people who is naturally hot and doesn't realize she doesn't need to try (and don't let her find out she'll be insufferable).

♞I don't think she would confess on her own, it's far more likely you'll have to do it yourself. She would get in her head too much, and her communication skills are awful. She worries that she'll hurt you and won't know how to fix it. She knows relationships are harder work than friendships and she is not confident in her abilities to handle all the responsibility that comes with that. She's reckless with her livelihood, but never you and your wellbeing. Even after a confession, it would take a lot of reassurance that she wouldn't destroy everything.

✭Ekko✭

✭I don't think a crush phase with Ekko would last all that long, especially if it's developed after the Firelight society. I think he's far more self-assured than Vi is and wouldn't see the point in dancing around a relationship. If he wants you and you want him, why make things complicated if they don't need to be. For these reasons, I think he would crush from a far rather than it being a friends to lovers type relationship.

✭Ekko is sappy, let that be known. The first time he sees you time stops. If he's figured out his machine, he may just rewind time to stare at you for a second longer. He becomes a mini-stalker, not breaking into your house or anything, but slyly asking if anyone knows you, where you came from, why he's never seen you before, if you're single? Scar makes fun of him for this, of course, but encourages and indulges him with all he knows

✭The glimpses he sees of you make his whole week. Those short moments you pass by him in a crowd, or he sees you playing with children or passing around food, and he curses himself every time for freezing instead of taking action. And when he does take action, Scar is somewhere around the corner eavesdropping on the conversation and nearly choking on his own laughter when he hears Ekko's opening line, "Tree." Just "Tree". He had meant to say more than that, but when you looked at him, his mind went blank and all he could manage was "Tree" and died inside as you looked up at him confused. Like Vi, he too would stumble over his words at first, or even worse, fall victim to a terribly timed voice crack. He tries to cover it with a cough, but there's really no coming back from that.

✭Lucky for Ekko (who still lays awake at night because of your first interaction), you liked his tree a lot and you talked for hours under it. He walked you home like a gentleman after and shows up the next morning to give you an exclusive tour of the entire place and treats you to lunch

✭After that he pops up everywhere. You need company on an errand, he's some how at your door, checking his watch trying to look nonchalant when he is one of the most chalant people to walk the earth. You get caught in the rain, your eyes aren't deceiving you, that is indeed Ekko in the misty distance with an extra umbrella he 'found' lying around somewhere. You wanna go out one night, that's hilarious because Ekko had the exact same idea and if you're both going out might as well keep each other safe at night.

✭Don't be mistaken, he allows you space. He himself is a man who enjoys solitude, but what is the point of a commune if not community. He can do things alone, and he does, but if he's craving company and you are too, why bother with it. Being together isn't often a big ordeal anyway, sometimes its lounging around in his lab reading a book while he's tinkering away with some good music playing in the background. And sometimes, if the stars align and the moon allows, you slow dance to whatever's playing while talking about your day, even if you spent it together.

✭Ekko can certainly cook. He got quite good at making something out of nothing before his tree, but after, you try convincing him every day to open a restaurant should he ever need some cash on the side. He likes his kitchen a lot, actually, its his private sanctuary. A place where his love of the arts and science come together. In a modern AU, he would totally be on the track to have a degree in biochemistry and plan to open his own restaurant.

✭You two would hang out in his kitchen a lot, and out of the kindness of his heart, he would allow you to lick the spoon anytime he bakes something. It would also be where he confesses, a candlelit dinner for two already set up while both of you prepare what will be your first meal together as a couple.

❂Jayce❂

❂Probably the only one (and Mel) who can pull of being suave. Though he can pull it off, it is not authentic at all. He certainly woos you with it though!! He is a very classic romantic, buying you dozens of roses and wine-and-dining you with fancy champagne and furry rugs, but it's all a facade. He's a really big dork. Unlike the previous two, being suave is the defense he plays rather well. He's a bit scared that when you realize he's really pathetic deep down, you'll be disappointed. He's the man of progress and built like a brickhouse and he is slightly very insecure that's not his personality deep down

❂He enjoys walks in the gardens once you get a bit closer to him. Usually you two will talk in his lab or in your place of work and he'll drop a few cheesy pickup lines with a charming smirk and you'll both laugh it off. You think he's just a flirt for a while and he's really trying to work on you (just very unsuccessfully). It's not until he (very inorganically) tells you he's tired and wants a change of scenery and asks if you'll accompany him to the gardens. For the first time ever, you get one of his toothy smiles instead of those stupid forced smirks and you're really fond of it.

❂From then on, things start progressing much faster. He starts to tell you about Hextech and his theories about the runes and how it all works and babbles about scientific drivel until the sun goes down and, unless you're one of the sciency-types, it goes through one ear and out the other. He's ok with this, he likes having a sponge around to talk things through with, but if you can actually engage, he'd probably get a boner.

❂I feel like out of everyone, after you got close enough, he would do relationship things, creating a very vague space that can leave you questioning whether or not you're together or if you're reading into things too much. This is entirely because he wants to ask you out and he is like 90% percent sure you'll say yes but he's worried about the slim chance you won't and wants you to take the leap for him because he's too scared to.

❂He's a big physical touch guy. Like the type to leave his hands in your back pocket, not even because he's trying to grab your ass, but because he wants to touch you (and your ass). He likes hugs!! He gives such good hugs. While it's usually him leaning on you for touch, placing his head in your lap, grabbing your hands, or letting his hands linger on your hips to rub little patterns, he is beyond excited when it's you are initiating. What do you mean you want a hug from him!!! What do you mean you want to hold his hand!! He is so over the moon excited.

❂Slight side tangent, but if you went out in something low cut he would constantly be staring at your chest. Not even in a perv way (most of the time), but to make sure it doesn't fall down. He has gotten very sly at pulling it up for you in an unnoticeable way. There are a lot of similar acts with him, casual touches here and there. Unsticking your hair from your lip gloss, pulling stray leaves or flower petals out of your hair, making sure the clasp of your necklace stays in place at the back of your neck.

❂I know he smells nice. Dior Sauvage warrior right here!!! He would go slightly overboard with it on the day he confesses just because you said you liked it. He would plan everything to an absolute 't'. A walk in the gardens where you had what he considers your first date, a written speech that become illegible because his hands were sweaty while he was holding it, a specific spot to eat dinner so you got a perfect glimpse of the stars. He would even wait for the day that a specific constellation was in place to perfectly set the mood. He asks you to be his girlfriend like he's proposing, with a single rose and matching bracelets to commemorate the occasion.

☽Viktor☾

☾Viktor is another one I don't really see having a crush just because he is so busy all the time, but I don't think you'd need to work in the lab to catch his attention. I think simple things, like kindness, would really be all he needs. He appreciates someone who doesn't coddle him or look at him funny because he's from Zaun or because of his leg. Someone who is considerate to his disability while also treating him like a person, not like some porcelain doll

☾I think once he found you, he would find it slightly hard to know what to do next. He likes your banter when you come around and he knows he likes you, it's the pursuing part that gets him tripped up. He is someone who likes to have it planned out and he has no idea where he would take you on a date or what you enjoy or who you are really

☾Every hang out would eventually turn into a game of 21 questions. What's your favorite color? What do you like to do in your free time? What's your least favorite chore to do? It all seems very random you two jump from topic to topic when the conversation stills. He also just adores hearing you go on and on about things. They could be the simplest of things, like going into very heavily deep detail as to why your favorite colors purple, or something more substantive, like a full and deep analysis of your favorite book, or just gossip. This man is a D-1 gossiper!!

☾He likes having you around in general. Like Jayce, he enjoys having someone to bounce ideas off of or just being able to hear them out loud. He also feels more at ease around you. Unlike pretty much everyone else, he wouldn't freeze up around his crush. If anything, he's more prone to fault without them there. He gets too wrapped up in work, he forgets to take breaks, he forgets to eat. You're always there to remind him to do what he forgets to the point that you don't even have to say it anymore. He's gotten so good about it, sometimes he makes lunch for the both of you.

☾He absolute adores your banter. He's not as serious as people think he is. He can crack a joke or two. He's sarcastic and witty and a leader of the sassy man apocalypse. He would absolutely die without hearing your laugh at his stupid jokes.

☾On a different note, he would start using pet names so smoothly. It would start slowly with a simple nickname and then eventually progress into one of those old, classic nicknames. Dear or darling would definitely be his go-to's and he would only get bolder as you start to blush more. He's cocky too, he is very aware of the effect he has, and he likes pushing your buttons. It's like a game, the more he picks and prods, the greater his reward is.

☾I also have a feeling he'd be a slight neat freak. Like his lab is a different story, his work is chaotic, but he cannot come home to chaos. I think if you let him into your space, he wouldn't definitely tidy it up subtly. Wiping dust off books and slightly moving objects on your desk so they look more orderly. I feel like this carries over to appearance too. He has a specific way of tying his shoes and he's very meticulous about what ties he wears and knows how to do like every type of knot.

☾He also definitely smells good. You can't convince me he doesn't have like a 12-step shower routine and takes advantage of all of Piltover's fancy soups and colognes. In contrast to Jayce, however, his smelling good is him smelling super clean. Like it's not a scent out of a bottle or anything, nor does he smell exactly like soap, he smells distinctly like himself and very clean.

☾I think he would confess very simply and nonchalantly. It would be a late night in the lab by candlelight or some sort of low lighting has him feeling romantic and bold. He peppers it into conversation smoothly, something like "It's too late tonight, but tomorrow we should go on our first date." And you are taken aback, which he knew you would be. You do ask if he was officially asking you to be his girlfriend and he tells you "he doesn't really like labels", but the wide smile and kiss he gave you said otherwise.

☼Mel☼

☼Probably one of the smoothest talkers out of everyone here. She would have absolutely no problems charming anyone into a relationship. Similar to Jayce, it would be a bit superficial at first. Feeling like she would need a relationship to feel complete, not in a self-esteem way, but rather in an aesthetic way. She is always trying to look very put together and like she has everything under control, and the "complete" life looked like one with a significant other. She eventually realizes a complete life doesn't need a partner, but her complete life wouldn't be complete without you.

☼Mel would feel like she's being obvious towards her crush when she in reality is not. She has this very professional tone about her, and she eventually has to learn that even the sweetest things sound manufactured in that manner. She would talk very softly with her crush, a lot of whispers during council meetings and sweet mutterings while it's just the two of you. This reminds me, if you're shorter than her, she has the very attractive habit of leaning down to speak to you.

☼Big on eye contact. She could talk you unto circles, your pupils dilated and just nodded at anything she says. She finds this very amusing. She is aware of the effect her voice has on people, and she would be lying if she said she didn't put into hyperdrive when it came to you. It's not even a different voice she put on, it's just the way she speaks and looks you in your eyes that's so captivating. She also gives it right back when it comes to listening to you. Though she has the habit of wanting to fix your problems for you, she's gotten good at asking if you even want her advice or just want her to listen.

☼She would love matching with her crush. Once again, someone who visuals are very important to, she likes the idea that you look together, even if you aren't. This also applies to her finding any way for you to be together at public events. Inviting you as her date to a gala or not wanting to do a grocery run alone, she would ask you to come with. She loves looking like you two are dating.

☼Gossip sessions would go insane. It's definitely a scheduled weekend event with face masks and nails, she'll braid your hair and in return you'll pick out new charms and styles for her to put hers in. Part of it is because she likes being well informed about what everyone is up to and part of it is bonding over despising the same people in the council (this is directed at Salo). Her favorite part of it is being around you; it's a very intimate activity that she can't get enough of.

☼I feel it in my bones that she's the type to open doors for you. Car doors, carriage doors, your hand will not grace a single doorknob or handle around her. She would also be on top of the weather, festivals and fun events happening, and things concerning to your interests. You will never regret not wearing your rainboots because she would've told you the forecast the morning. Your favorite music artists are coming soon, good thing she told you like a month ago so you could get tickets before everyone else.

☼She is another chef, but of the comfort food variety. Her food just tastes like a warm hug, and she is the first you go to when feeling under the weather. She takes great pride in this. She doesn't cook often and she doesn't even enjoy the activity that much, preferring to eat out or have a private chef, but she likes that she has something that she can do for you.

☼I don't think it would take her very long to ask you out, especially if she felt like the feelings were reciprocated. To her, there's no point in prolonging the inevitable and she really likes the way your names sound together. I think she is also sappy; she is just incredibly well at hiding it. All of the acts of service mentioned above are usually done casually. She wins the nonchalant Olympics even when she's not trying to. She thinks it's incredibly clear, but the way she comes across doesn't convey that. Thus, her sappy moments are few and far between and she gets very bashful when they're mentioned.

☼Definitely has a scrapbook of your times together as well as a diary where she talks about you for pages on end. The discovery of this would lead to the confession. It would be uncomfortable for her just because it would be so impromptu and that is not how she likes to do things. She would be very vulnerable and honest about her feelings and would call this your "unofficial" confession. She would later go all out as she had always intended during her confession

#arcane x reader #arcane #vi x reader #viktor x reader #ekko x reader #mel x reader #jayce x reader #arcane headcanon #arcane fanfic #arcane x you #ekko arcane #jayce arcane #mel arcane #vi arcane #viktor arcane

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grandline-fics · 10 months ago

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Terms of Endearment

DESCRIPTION: You call them by a term of endearment without realising

WARNINGS: none that come to mind.

CHARACTERS: Law, Kid, Shanks, Marco, Zoro | Ace, Sabo, Luffy

WORDS: 2,943

A/N: I decided to use Zoro as the final character. Since he and Ace tied in the poll, I might make a second one of these and use Ace and any others people may want.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

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LAW

He knew it was irrational to be jealous of an inanimate object. Law knew that it’d be childish to use his Devil Fruit to take it out of your hands and claim your attention for himself. While he had enough restraint to not do that, the temptation to do so was still there. His eyes zeroed in on the book in your hand. He glowered and wondered if it was really that good, did it really deserve such intense, rapt attention that you were giving it. Your eyes were alight as you took in the words, your fingers already tucked behind the next page and ready to turn it as quickly as possible. Law watched you carefully, almost praying for your expression to turn to one of sudden boredom but it didn’t come.

He supposed he was to blame this time, a lot of this was new to him. While your relationship had only turned to a romantic one recently, you’d both been close for a lot longer. Long enough for you both to be able to spend time together while doing entirely separate things. You only pulled your book out because he had medical charts to look over and update. Law made a mental note to try a bit harder from now on to make the time you had together one of quality.

Finally he sat back in his seat and rubbed his eyes, letting them relax from pouring over the extensive pages now neatly piled on his desk. Slowly he stood and walked to the sofa you were perched on, unmoving and seemingly unaware he was approaching. Law tried to bite back his jealousy once more, wondering how annoyed you’d be if he ‘accidentally’ sent that blasted book out into the depths of the ocean.

When he sat down in the space beside you, he smiled softly when you leant back so you were against his side. One of your hands dropped to rest on his arm that was around your waist, your fingers lightly making soothing patterns against his tattooed skin. Law supposed this did count as quality time since it meant he could relax with you in a way he couldn’t with anyone else. He allowed himself the time to settle further against the cushion and press his lips against the back of your head. “Don’t forget you and Bepo are on duty tonight.” He reminded you, still having to act as your Captain when necessary.

“Yes, love.” Your answer was light and casual that he didn’t realise what you’d said at first. Then it echoed in his head ‘love.’ His eyes widened and he peered at the back of your head. There was no way he misheard that. You’d called him love, not Law, not Captain. Love. There was no mistaking the way his heart skipped a beat in reaction. It sounded so right, so effortless the way you said it and he found himself wanting to hear it again. It was also clear that from your lack of reaction, you hadn’t realised what you’d called him because you were partially distracted. Law smirked and for a moment reconsidered his earlier distaste. Perhaps your book wasn’t so bad after all.

KID

Kid didn’t want to admit it but he was powerless against you. He was stubborn and hotheaded and did what he wanted even if someone had sound logic to convince him whatever he had planned wasn’t wise. If anything if someone did attempt that nonsense with him, he’d be even more extreme with his conviction to do as he wanted and would even think of a way to make his actions even more outlandish and dangerous. Even Killer had a hard time keeping the captain in a somewhat mature state of mind. You however were a different story. Anything you wanted, it was yours all you had to do was ask.

Kid just never knew how to let you know that was the dynamic between you both. He was never afraid to speak his mind, if anything he yelled it to ensure everyone knew his thoughts. Yet he seemed to bite his tongue from confessing how he truly felt with you. He’d much rather have you beside him every day and enjoy the playful teasing and jokes than make things real and risk you not seeing him that way. Killer had told him one night to just confess already and trust that you felt the same. Kid had rolled his eyes and promptly kept his feelings buried in his chest. It was better, they were safer there than spoken out loud and unable to take them back.

He walked into the kitchen one evening to see you and Killer preparing the crew’s dinner. You looked over at the sound of his naturally heavy steps coming closer and smiled in greeting to see him stop in the doorway. “Here to help, Captain?” You asked, already knowing the answer before it came. Your smile grew when Kid let out a loud laugh and made a show of folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the doorframe.

“Not unless you want me to poison the crew.” He smirked.

“You’d nurse us back to health if you did infect us though, right?” You joked before looking back to the food you were meant to keep an eye on instead of getting distracted by your handsome Captain. You had to keep reminding yourself to behave and actually respect the chain of command. To let yourself imagine he may genuinely feel the same as you did would only lead to heartbreak in the long run but still you flirted and teased him whenever you could. You supposed you were just a glutton for punishment. You slowed in stirring the food and looked around for the seasonings only to see the small jar on the counter near Kid.

“Could you pass me that?” You asked nodding your head at what you needed. Kid followed your gaze and immediately pushed himself away from his comfortable position to lift the tiny item. He stepped forward and passed the seasoning into your waiting hand, hating and loving how the brief moment of his fingers skimming against yours brought him such a burst of joy. “Thank you, darling.” You smiled, turning back to the stove. While you hadn’t noticed what you’d said Killer did and he stopped cutting the vegetables to look Kid who was frozen in place, his eyes wide and cheeks turning the same bright red as his hair.

Darling? The fuck did you mean darling?! Kid’s mind was short-circuiting as he scrambled to gather his wits together and make sense of it all. Had you called him that subconsciously because was it possible that you felt for him too? God he hoped so because getting to hear you call him something so sweet again would be perfect.

SHANKS

One of the great things about sailing with an Emperor of the sea like Shanks was the fact that there were many islands under his protection. Any time you landed at one for a visit or even for the excuse of resting from a long stretch of sailing, the locals welcomed you all so warmly that it turned into one big celebration. None of you needed to worry about night watches, chores or other duties and could just sit back and enjoy the peace until Shanks decided he wanted to get back on the waters again.

As a crew, you were all used to just passing out and sleeping wherever you were at that time and waking up with aches from the uncomfortable positions you’d all ended up. However the town you were staying in was large enough to provide some rooms for you all in one of their inns. Some of you still needed to double up but the beds were extremely comfortable and who were you all to refuse such generosity? One night when the drinking and partying was only just beginning you slowly rose from your seat with a stifled yawn and forced yourself to finish your drink. Shanks was first to notice your movements. “Going for another round of drinks already?” he asked, coming across casual but he knew you weren’t yourself.

“Nah, I’m turning in early.” You announced, playfully flipping off the crew when they started to boo you for being boring. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Blame Beck, alright. I haven’t slept the last two nights. Goodnight.” You gave no further explanation and disappeared up the staircase to claim a room to sleep in. Shanks looked towards his righthand man with a small scowl. He hoped you hadn’t implied what he thought. Beckman could sense his Captain’s silent interrogation and waved away his worries. “Calm down Cap, you know I’d never make a move on them. It’s just been bad luck we’ve had a share a room together and I snore…apparently.” He explained with a shrug and long drink of his ale.

Shanks had accepted the answer, knowing Beck would never lie to him. Yet as innocent as it all was, he couldn’t ignore the way he’d felt sick at the thought of you being with another of the crew. While nothing had exactly happened between you both, it was painfully obvious that there was something there. A playful dance you both engaged in without making an actual step forward into committing and admitting you’d had feelings. Roughly Shanks rubbed his eyes, now wasn’t the time to be thinking on such things, not with alcohol in his system and you not being there to talk to like the adults you were.

The rest of the night had helped to take his mind off things but it was all undone by the time he entered the room he’d been staying in the entire stay and saw you sleeping soundly in his bed. He was the only one in the crew that didn’t have to share his room with anyone else so why were you here? He approached the bed and shook your arm, watching your eyes crack open and he immediately felt guilty. You really did look exhausted. “Why’re you in my bed?” He asked, trying not to laugh as your eyes slipped closed again.

“Furthest room…no snoring. Please honey, lemme sleep.” Your voice was thick with sleep and your breathing was growing deeper again. Shanks might have appeared calm but that was the first time you’d ever called him something like that and as far as he knew you’d never called anyone else on the crew something similar. That all but cemented his decision that things needed to be talked about when you were both awake and rested enough to deal with things. Finally he let out a sigh and climbed into what would be his side of the bed while keeping respectable space between you both. “Fine, only because it’s you.”

MARCO

Your relationship with the ship’s doctor was a fairly new one. You had both known each other long enough to know the general likes and dislikes and the atmosphere on the Moby Dick among the crew was always one of familial harmony so there was never any uncomfortable tension. You were both content to just take things easy and enjoy things as they developed naturally without needed to force things into a certain timeframe. Marco’s personality being so relaxed and carefree was infectious in general and it was no different in your relationship.

Marco stood from his desk and stretched, ready to find you and enjoy the rest of the day with you now that all pressing tasks he’d needed to complete for the day was done. He was just about to leave when Izou entered to talk about organising a banquet for Ace’s birthday. As the two were discussing everything you appeared and smiled at them both before entering the room.

“Babe, did you see my-” Anything else that came out of your mouth was unfortunately drowned out by the increased heart rate in Marco’s ears. Instead he could only watch as you were busy looking for whatever it was that you’d lost. Marco would have considered himself steady and able to handle most situations but hearing you call him babe for the first time had certainly thrown him and you seemed oblivious to the fact that you’d done so. The only person who truly reacted was Izou, his laugh snapping Marco out of his trance and catching your attention too. “Babe, huh? Didn’t realise things were so serious with you two. Maybe we could plan the wedding too.” Izou teased.

“What are you talking about now?” You asked with a small smile. You were used to Izou’s teasing like a brother figure would but sometimes he just didn’t make sense. When Izou saw that you weren’t aware of your subconscious slip-up he grinned wider.

“You called Marco, babe.” He explained. You rolled your eyes and let out an amused laugh. As far as jokes went, it wasn’t the worst one he’d told you but he could do better. Suddenly you became concerned when Izou’s smug grin wasn’t slipping and you had to think. What had you said to Marco when you entered the room? Slowly you pulled your gaze to your boyfriend and he nodded. “Well looks like you two lovebirds need some alone time.” Izou all but sang as he left, no doubt hurrying off to tell Ace and the others about Marco’s new nickname.

“So…” You cleared your throat nervously and gave a small laugh. “Want to forget that happened? I swear I didn’t realise I’d even called you that.” The last thing you wanted was to make Marco think you were forcing him to a point he wasn’t ready for. Thankfully his broad smile was enough to make you relax, his naturally warm aura soothing your brief worries before they had a chance to escalate. Marco stepped closer to you, settling a hand on your waist. “Well even if you stop now, I bet all the others will start. Honestly I’d much rather hear it from your lips. Can I hear you say it again?”

ZORO

Zoro kept a firm hold on your shoulder as you stumbled, trying to twist weakly out of his grip. Any other instance he would release you if his touch made you uncomfortable but this was a completely different situation. After defeating a group of lackeys, one managed to make one last attack before falling unconscious. You’d been quick enough to intercept whatever it was he threw towards you and Zoro but when it was destroyed it still released a cloud of strange smelling gas. Zoro had been a safe enough distance but you weren’t so lucky.

At first you’d insisted you were fine but after walking a few paces your balance started to sway and your mind was beginning to cloud. Zoro became concerned by the glazed look in your eyes as you tried one more time to pull out of his unwavering hold, glaring at him. “Jus’ let me go! I don’t know you.”

His eyes widened at your declaration, not only because you sounded so dazed and confused. It was not like your usual bright and familiar way of speaking that made him happy to hear but it was also because hearing you say you didn’t know him filled him with more concern than he was willing to admit. He needed to find Chopper quickly to treat whatever it was you’d been hit with. For now he had to try and keep you calm and prove you were safe with him. “Course you know me. We’re crew-mates, remember? It’s Zoro.”

Abruptly you stopped and bumped into his chest, lifting your head to stare at him, trying to force yourself to focus on his face. Your hand reached out and clumsily gripped his face, tugging him forward enough for you to see his features better. Zoro could see your pupils were blown wide, whatever had been in that vial was some sort of hallucinogenic and he hoped that that was all it was. It could be better dealt with than a poison. Not that seeing you so wary and untrusting of him was any better. Your suspicion didn’t subside when you finally let go of his face and shook your head.

“You’re not Zoro.” You finally declared, trying once more to get away from him. This time you succeeded only enough to make it a couple of steps but without him there to keep you stable you fell forward. If Zoro hadn’t been there you would have landed face first into the pavement but he caught you swiftly around the waist and lifted you to settle you over his shoulder, deciding that this way of carrying you was the best option. “Definitely not Zoro.” You weakly grumbled into his back as he began walking again.

“Oh yeah, why’re you so sure of that?” He asked, deciding to at least play along.

“You’re too grumpy…” You explained and added as you fell unconscious. “Zoro’s grumpy but he’s a sweetheart. My sweetheart.” Immediately the back of his neck heated and he froze in place but he couldn’t say or do anything else because thankfully Chopper, Usopp and Nami appeared to regroup and find Luffy. Zoro quickly explained to Chopper that you’d been hit by something but offered no further details.

“Did you get hit too, Zoro? You’re looking really red.” Chopper asked in concern. Quickly Zoro cleared his throat and shrugged as he laid you on the ground so Chopper could treat you.

“Uh yeah, might have been. Don’t worry about it though.”

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greenandsorrow · 9 months ago

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~Her man child~

Headcanons 📻

Al can be a ruthless, intimidating and manipulative specimen. Still, he turns into a grinning goofball when in your presence.

When first meeting a demon such as Alastor, one of the things you notice before anything else is their dominating and confident aura.

BUT let me tell you something miss!!

No matter how soft or feminine, seductive, masculine/ androgynous, childish or serious you are... The deer man LOVES to be babied by you.

Only behind closed doors that is.

And I'm not even talking about your intimate moments yet!

Alastor, as someone with a lot in his mind -always planning his moves in advance and always controlling situations- likes the comforting and tender touch or words of a woman.

He can relax and allow someone else to take care of things for once.

It makes him all giggly and silly when you do baby him. To him, you're a nurturing presence just like his mother once was.

His braincells vanish and he just accepts anything you have in store for him.

You wanna squeeze his pale cheeks? Comb your fingers through his hair? Play some monstrosity of a game that Niffty suggested?

Count him in girl!!!

Cook for him and he'll forever be your protector.

Scratch his back and give him a massage after he was live on air and he'll turn into putty, little grunts of pleasure making you smile enough for your cheeks to hurt.

There's always this sparkle of a child's excitement when he comes to your room (chest full of pride and a smug grin on his face) to read you the notes for his next live transmittion.

His jealousy is also that of a child's.

A pout, a crease between his brows and hunched shoulders.... YOU WERE LAUGHING WHILE WATCHING TELEVISION????

How dare you? You traitor...

VOX made you laugh?!

No way.

Alastor is better. He's gonna prove himself to you.

Expect a ton of dad jokes. Expect him bullying all your friends just to see you crack a smile, because he's gonna know he's the reason behind it.

On the same note. What are boundaries?

The more you get to know Al, the more the gentleman persona gives way to an all consuming boy that wants ALL of your attention to himself.

He throws unnecessary tantrums.

Your deer man makes up little songs about how miserable he is when you choose to help Charlie in her drawings, instead of listening to him rumbling about a new way to embarrass Vox.

And he makes sure to sing them when you pass by.

Alastor is always hungry. It doesn't look like it, but this man is always munching on something.

He doesn't like his scars. But this aversion doesn't come from a place of insecurity about his appearance.

It's the meaning behind them that messes with his head.

A deer with the marks his predators left on him. He is not prey to anybody.

That's why he allows humans and demons alike to think of him as a Wendigo. It's less humiliating in his point of view.

But isn't that another childish response of denial to his demon manifestation?

He talks in his sleep, tossing and turning, shifting closer to you until you hardly have any space left on the bed.

You of course have fallen down from it. Luckily for you, his rugs are plush and thick.

He can go for hours without any rest whatsoever.

He loves loves LOVES eye contact. He relishes in the way your features contort in pleasure, the way you open your mouth for a soundless moan to escape, the subtle way your eyes roll back when he hits that spot deep inside you. He just has to see your face during the act.

Alastor is rather proud of his manhood. A bit arrogant even.

So, even though Al won't be the type to directly ask for reassurance on his performance, he finds the validation he needs in your body's reactions to him.

Mommy issues.

Again, it doesn't matter if you're more of a soft and submissive woman, or a powerful and dominant one, YOU ARE MOMMY.

And he's your boy. He's gonna please you till your legs are shaking and your toes are curling.

Are you a pillow princess? He's gonna fuck you like his life depends on it. Pounding into you, making sure you're full of his seed and content. Breeding kink<3

You like being in control of the situation? He's gonna let you have it. In reality, you both know that he can break you in half with one hand behind his back, but he allows you to have him like that.

It's such a big turn on for the radio demon to see you use his body as you please.

Because you don't use it and then discard it afterwards.

You make sure he's warm and cosy at the end of your steamy times. And he does the same with you.

His proper manners show on the way he's gentle with you, after lust gives way to tranquility.

Alastor has never used the word "aftercare" for it but he treats you like a queen regardless.

Once you're both in the bathtub and he's certain you're not in pain or in any discomfort, then he allows himself to relax.

And there he is... rubbing his head against your chest and letting out a small moan when you wrap your arms around his lean frame.

He's also more than happy to eat you out. This man has a very talented tongue and if he teases... Alastor likes to play, but he knows he's gonna be teased back and even denied relief so he is cautious about it.

When you go down on your knees for him, Alastor has to hold himself back from cumming just from the image in front of him.

You're aware of that, so you never go all out and he makes sure to keep his hips still. Lick his head like a lollipop and hold his balls through it and he'll be a whimpering mess, ears pulled back and drool collecting on his lower lip.

Al is big on bonding. He doesn't trust anyone so the fact that he trusts you... You're his partner for life (for afterlife?).

You're not complaining, are you?

Support a struggling university student! Thank you so so much🫶 CLICK HERE(PayPal link)

my masterlist || Hazbin Hotel masterlist 🫀

~~~

Alastor divider by @rubra-wav

Support divider by @cafekitsune

The explicit content one... I don't remember :(

~~~

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little-diable · 9 months ago

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My Greatest Fear - Dean Winchester (smut)

Don't say I didn't warn y'all. Inspired by Benson Boone's new song "My Greatest Fear". Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean broke things off with the reader years ago, the biggest mistake of his life. But when Sam tells his brother that (y/n) is getting married, Dean knows it's time to make things right. He won't leave this life behind without being able to call her his once again.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, ex-lovers to lovers, some angst, lots of fluff tho, reader is a runaway bride

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (3k words)

Got a lot on my mind that keeps me up at night, I’m tossing and turning, thinking that my life’s gone to waste

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Dean shot the waitress a big smile as she placed his breakfast down, blushing as the handsome man winked at her. The older Winchester brother was too focused on his food to pick up on the uneasiness radiating off Sam, to focus on the sadness swimming in his brother’s pupils.

“Fuck, that’s good.” Dean’s moans rumbled through him as he ate the greasy deliciousness, sipping on his coffee every now and then. It took him a while to lift his gaze, to allow his green eyes to focus on Sam’s untouched breakfast, forcing Dean’s eyebrows to furrow in confusion. “Not hungry? Shouldn’t you eat something after a long run?”

“Mhm,” Sam’s eyes were focused on the window, unable to look at his brother any longer. His heart clenched in his chest, his mind was racing faster than it had in the past months, struggling to part his lips.

“Sam,” Dean’s raspy voice forced Sam’s eyes back towards his older brother, unable to hold eye contact for long. “What’s wrong?”

Dean had put down his breakfast burger while taking another sip of coffee. He patiently waited for Sam to speak, to spill whatever was visibly plaguing him. But Sam kept quiet, deeply inhaling as if he had to muster the strength to speak. Dean repeated his brother’s name, much quieter this time around, gentle almost – as if he had finally realised that whatever Sam was about to speak would hurt them both.

“I received an email this morning.” It was a whisper, nothing more, words so obscurely simple that Dean couldn’t help but laugh. But Sam didn’t give in, killing Dean’s hope that Sam was simply fucking with him. Something heavy was about to claw through Sam, something heavy that could determine the outcome of this very day. “It was from Mary, (y/n)’s sister.”

Now it was on Dean to freeze, not expecting his brother to speak her name. Their eyes met, urging Sam to keep on speaking, to tell his brother about the email he had opened with shaky fingers, freezing in his step as he read the words she had written to him.

“(Y/n)’s getting married, Dean.” Sam was forced to watch Dean sink back into the seat, arms crossed in front of his chest, uneasy eyes staring down at the table. And for a moment, neither of them spoke, letting the words sink in – words that had been Dean’s greatest fear ever since he had left her all these years ago.

He had been stupid back then, too childish for his own good. Guided by his father’s words, he had dropped (y/n) and the life they could have lived together. His father had made pretty promises, telling his young son of women awaiting him, women he shouldn’t miss out on because of a marriage that would only tie him to (y/n), away from all the fun he could experience. The greatest mistake of his life, a mistake he hated himself for every single day.

“That’s good for her. I’m happy she found somebody who treats her right.” The words pained Dean to speak, rolling off his tongue with a sharp edge that left Sam cringing. His hand found Dean’s forearm, gently squeezing his brother’s arm in a gesture so unfamiliar, Dean had to stop himself from shaking off Sam’s hand.

“Dean, I’ve always loved her like a sister, I only want what’s best for her. But you’re my brother, I know how much not having her around scars you, I see it every day on your face. Get her back, try it at least.”

Of all the things that I've been afraid to lose, my greatest fear of all is losing you

……

“I shouldn’t do this.” They were parked in front of the small church, eyes watching the big crowd of unfamiliar faces. Both Dean and Sam were wearing a suit, knowing that they had to blend in with the wedding guests to find their way to (y/n). “Why should she take me back? Why should she even listen to me?”

“Dean, if there is one thing I know it’s that she still loves you. Let’s get your girl back.” Sam was first to step out into the warm morning, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses as they walked up to the crowd. He felt Dean close, not daring to speak up with his choked-up throat, with his heart pounding in his chest, knowing that this would be his only shot to make things right for once in his life.

“Mary!” Sam’s voice echoed through the air, eyes focused on the frame of (y/n)’s sister. The young woman flung herself into Sam’s open arms, chuckling into his neck as he held her close for a moment. A moment too long for Dean who was growing more antsy with every passing second.

“Thank you for coming. She’s making a mistake, Sam. You’re my only hope with this.” The words left Dean frozen, confused eyes flickering between his brother and Mary. He hadn’t read the email Mary had sent to Sam, hadn’t asked any further questions about the man (y/n) was about to marry, trusting that he was somebody she loved. “Come, I’ll bring you to her.”

“What the fuck man?” Dean growled the words at Sam as he followed them through the crowd and towards a small house built near the church. Sam fell into pace with his brother, watching Mary lead them towards the place where (y/n) was currently getting ready.

“Well, you didn’t think I’d let you do this without knowing (y/n) would willingly leave her fiancé, did you? I wouldn’t destroy her happiness just like that, Dean.” Realistically, Dean should have known that Sam wouldn’t just push him into this without knowing that there was a chance to get her back. Sam had hated him for a while after he had left (y/n), punishing Dean for breaking her heart at any given chance, a broken bond that had needed months to be repaired.

“(Y/n)? I brought two special guests.” Mary’s voice echoed through the small cabin, ringing in the brother’s ears as they waited outside. Dean felt his hands tremble, forced to let go of deep exhales as Mary opened the door for them, allowing them to step inside. His eyes were drawn to (y/n)’s like a moth to a flame, and his world stopped spinning, unable to focus on anything but her.

It took (y/n) a second to react, seemingly confused about the appearance of the two hunters she hadn’t seen in years. She was pulled into a hug by Sam, giving Dean another moment to admire her, the white dress she wore – a sight he had only seen in his dreams, imagining this very day, with him waiting at the altar for her. Dreams that had evaporated into a hazy nothingness the day he had left her.

“Hi, sweetheart.” She sank into Dean’s grasp, clinging to him as if he hadn’t been the man who had broken her heart all these years ago. He watched his brother and Mary leave the cabin, giving the two some time alone as they kept on holding one another.

“What are you doing here, Dean?” (Y/n) mumbled the words against the fabric of his suit jacket, not caring about smudging her make-up, not caring about anything but the way Dean held her close – as if he hadn’t ever stopped holding her. Carefully, Dean let her go, needing to give them some distance for the words he was about to speak, knowing that this could escalate any moment now.

“I can’t let you marry another man without telling you that leaving you was my greatest mistake. A life without you has always been my biggest fear, I was stupid, so fucking stupid, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have listened to Dad, I should have married you right that day. And I hate myself for not doing it, for letting you go when you have always been my whole world. I know there is no chance for me to make things right, and even though Sammy and Mary hope that I will sweep you off of your feet and bring you back home to us, I know I can’t.” Tears dripped from her eyes, tears (y/n) didn’t care to wipe away.

“I hated you for years, you broke me, Dean. You took away my life, my friends, the people I had grown to love. You ripped my heart right out of my chest, and even though I tried to fight for it, to regain its strength, I miserably failed. I should curse you, should tell you to fuck off and never show your face to me again. But I can’t. For Christ’s sake, Dean. What are we doing here?” He cupped her face with shaking fingers, letting his forest-green eyes run over her gorgeous face.

“I want to kill him for getting a chance to love you, time that has been wasted because of me. But I don’t want to take another choice from you. If you want to marry him, I will watch from the first row, hell, I’ll even carry your veil.” His voice shook as he whispered the words, growing tense as (y/n) rested her hands on top of his, still cupping her cheeks.

“And if I don’t want to marry him?”

……

I'm scared to take another picture of you, 'cause I'm scared to have another thing that I can lose, oh, dear, who am I without you here?

“I thought you were taking me home, where are we going?” Her laughter echoed through Baby, eyes set on Dean’s grinning features. They had left the church a while ago, running away like she had secretly hoped they would. (Y/n) had always been a dreamer, a dreamer who had pictured that very moment since the day it had dawned on her – about to marry a man she didn’t love. A man who wasn’t Dean Winchester.

“We’ve got another thing to take care of first, I am not losing any more time.” Baby screeched to a halt in front of a pink church, a sight that left (y/n) confused, and Dean and Sam chuckling. They made their way into the church, with her fingers interlaced with Dean’s, with her white wedding gown clinging to her frame, with his suit hugging his frame.

“Dean, Sam, I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you two around here!” An elderly man greeted them with a big smile. His brown eyes were drawn to (y/n)’s almost instantly, with a knowing smile growing on his lips – a smile that had an almost proud touch to it. “That’s her, huh? Took you quite some time, didn’t it.” “(Y/n), that’s Danny, an old friend of ours we met on a hunt. He could wed us, with Sammy as our witness, if you’ll have me.” Her heart had stopped beating, skipping a few beats as Dean’s words sank in. Her teary eyes found his and with a laugh clawing through her, she pressed a kiss to his lips, drawing a groan out of Dean, who tried to prolong the kiss for as long as possible.

“I will always have you, Dean.” She was pulled towards the altar, unable to stop her tears from dripping as Danny began speaking a prayer she paid no attention to. All (y/n) could do was study Dean, the love swimming in his pupils, the way he looked at her as if she was his sun, alighting the darkest days with her mere presence. A soul crafted for his to hold onto, to love till their time together would eventually run out.

“Do you have any rings?” Danny’s soft voice ripped (y/n) out of her thoughts, about to whisper a soft, disappointed “No”, but before she could even part her lips, Sam excitedly spoke up. Her eyes watched the tall Winchester brother, how he reached for his breast pocket to expose a small envelope to her glassy eyes. Wordlessly he pushed it towards Dean, who opened it with an unwavering smile stuck to his lips.

“I bought these rings years ago, sure to eventually push yours down on your finger. I am sorry it took me this long.” Her sob left Dean chuckling, exposing his also teary eyes to hers. She had held onto all these longings for years, mere dreams that were now finally turning real – as if she was just sleeping through another longing.

But, you're here, now, and that makes it better, somehow

……

“Let me.” Dean’s soft voice filled his bedroom. He was standing behind (y/n), carefully helping her out of her wedding dress with his gaze focused on the ring clinging to his finger. The past hours had flown by all too quickly, turning her from a runaway bride into his wife. His wife. A title so unfamiliar, Dean had to fight against the urge to pinch himself.

His for eternity. His to love. His to worship.

“I love you, Dean.” (Y/n) whispered her words as she stepped out of her dress, exposing her underwear-clad frame to his hungry eyes. She was pulled into a teeth-chasing kiss, a kiss dripping with emotions that made her feel all too dizzy, having to hold onto Dean before she could be ripped into another dimension.

“I love you too, sweetheart. And I’m so fucking sorry for missing out on this for years.” He pressed her down on the mattress, giving her a show as he slowly undressed. Her body was aching for him, needing to feel Dean close after all these long years apart.

“Stop apologising with words and show me that you truly mean them.” His lips kissed her chest, the valley between her breasts as he undid her bra, exposing her hardening nipples to his twinkling eyes. Dean could cum just from the sight of her naked frame, a sight he had only seen in his dreams for the past years, not daring to imagine being this fortunate again.

“God, you’re so beautiful. I promise to worship you for as long as you want me to.” Dean’s raspy words vibrated on her skin, covering her body with goosebumps as he kneaded her soft flesh. His cock was pressed against her clothed heat, drawing moans from her whenever he moved against her heat, desperate for the kind of friction that left them both trembling.

“I need you inside of me, Dean.” Her raspy whispers left him groaning against her skin as she raised her hips to help him pull her damp panties down her legs. Just this morning, (y/n) had imagined this very moment, knowing that she’d think of Dean when her husband touched her, a loveless marriage she would have been trapped in.

“Are you still on birth control?” (Y/n) could only nod her head, mind taken up by the feeling of his wandering hands, keeping her pressed against him. Dean's cock twitched against her naked cunt, brushing through her arousal-covered folds to coat himself, “I love you, and I’ll do my best to prove it to you for the rest of our lives.”

“I love you too, Dean.” He pushed into her with a groan, forehead falling against hers as she fluttered around him. It felt as if he had entered paradise, falling to rest on clouds covering his body. She was his Elysium, his safe haven, the one where Dean could be the truest version of himself.

He moved slowly at first, both needed some time to adjust to one another after all these years, but the second their bodies relaxed, properly enjoying one another’s closeness, Dean began to move faster. Their bodies met with every thrust, eyes holding a contact so intense, (y/n) feared her heart would explode right in her chest.

Dean was taking his time with her, this wasn’t a rushed fuck to make up for all the time lost, no, it was so much more. This was the purest form of love, a one-of-a-kind love both had clung to in lonely nights, with wandering minds and trembling hands. This is what they had been destined to have, years ago – a love they were now rediscovering.

“You feel so good, baby.” He felt her clenching around his cock, drawing another gritty sound out of Dean. (Y/n) was long gone, pushed into another dimension where she only knew Dean, nothing but his love, his touch, his irrevocable longing for her. Sensations she was taken hostage by, unable to shake them.

His warm fingertips found her pulsing bundle, circling it with just enough pressure to draw his name out of her. (Y/n) could feel her orgasm slithering its way up her body, whispering to her to hold onto her husband, and with her fingernails clawed into Dean’s shoulders, she came. He followed her right down the edge, moaning against her lips as their bodies were moulded together.

“Fuck, we’ll have to do that all through the night, husband.” (Y/n) whispered the words as a few heavy pants left her, making a laugh claw out of Dean who chased her slightly swollen lips for another kiss.

“Trust me, I won’t let you leave our bed for weeks, wife.”

Don't know how the broken pieces fit together if you leave it, so, don't go, don't go, I would take your hand if I could reach it

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester x reader #Dean Winchester imagine #supernatural

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letters-to-rosie · 3 months ago

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random Ekko thoughts

so I'm trying to get a little fic writing in, and I was thinking of some timebomb takes I've seen recently. I realized that a lot of opinions people have on their relationship and how it's depicted center around Jinx, and I was wondering what care people give towards writing Ekko, so here are some things I like to include when writing him:

perfectionist. Ekko, at least in League canon, goes back and forth over and over to craft a perfect moment. I think he'd be observant, detail-oriented, probably a little neurotic, definitely the type to replay an awkward interaction over and over in his head in the shower or before falling asleep

emotionally guarded. first, I gotta say I don't think Ekko would want to be this way. but he's been through so much he finds it useful to have walls up. it's not like all the toughness is a defense mechanism—he fights for what he believes in and is clearly very brave (who else makes hoverboards ffs). he does miss, though, the times and people that allowed him to be more vulnerable, and he treasures it when he has it. his childhood ended way too soon

chronic overthinker. this goes back to the perfectionism, but I think he'd constantly be questioning everything. he's good on his feet, but he likes to have a plan, and he'd tends to think about those for a long time

charismatic as hell. this one I think is proven by the show, lol. Ekko seems very personable, likes to haggle (at least as a kid), and is liked enough to lead a resistance movement. I think he'd make good speeches and be good at convincing people. this would, of course, cause drama with Jinx, because he'd be like "all these people believe in me and my former best friend doesn't," ow

drama. I like to give him a pretty dramatic inner monologue, lol. I also like to think he's self-aware enough to realize he's being dramatic in the moment and to then continue the drama anyway

enjoyer of thrills. hoverboard. need I say more?

childish and playful side. didn't get to have a full childhood and cherishes getting to let that side out. cue fluff

fidgeter. it preceded the tinkering

player of mind games. this is mostly based on how he treats Caitlyn and Vi after kidnapping them, putting them through what essentially amounts to tests (for, imo, understandable reasons). he also goads Jinx into a game he knows he'll be able to win. I think he'd apply this thinking to other scenarios, be they big or small

too-big sense of responsibility. would feed into the drama for sure. he feels the weight of his community on his shoulders, and because he wants things to go well, and because they're counting on him, he takes on a lot that he maybe should not

self-righteous. he strikes me as filled with righteous anger. he's right, most of the time. on the occasion he isn't, this causes problems

proud. wouldn't be a real issue in most situations, but it's there

irreverent. he flips off cops as a kid. we love him for this

smart. this is obvious, but sometimes can be forgotten in the fandom. I'd see Ekko as book-smart and having street-smarts (or at least a lot more than Jayce, but that's a low bar). I think his verbal skills would also be a bit more polished than some of the other science-inclined characters (cough cough Jinx). I think it's also notable that among the others (Jayce, Viktor, Heimerdinger, Jinx), Ekko is the main science character who has no access to proper schooling at any point. sure, he has his job with Benzo, but it's unclear how much that would have taught him. Silco probably got at least books for Jinx, and the others had real teachers. there's an element of resourcefulness in Ekko's smarts which is laudable, imo

very dorky. we love a man with range. I feel like he would be able to operate on multiple levels, one in which he's this cool charismatic leader and another when you get to know him better, who makes science puns and has a lot of insecurities, which naturally leave him replaying awkward conversations in the shower. layers!

idealistic. you have to give people what they need to live

heart of gold. one thing that always strikes me is that Ekko is really the only member of the main cast concerned enough with the plight of the average person in Zaun to make it his whole business. he's tending to the crisis in a way that is simultaneously very grounded and (again) idealistic, where substance use recovery is very much needed in the setting but he's also (perhaps in contrast to Vander) throwing himself into battles that are unsustainable because he believes in his cause, even if the persecution is so bad he has to hide over it

disaster bi (this one is for me)

Ekko's a really layered and interesting character. I wanted to bring up some things I think about when writing him because of posts I've seen recently about him being reduced to "Jinx's boyfriend" (due to anti-black racism, of course) and posts just kinda about timebomb in general? I think because it's been canon that Ekko has a crush of Jinx for so long, it's easy to take that for granted and not give much thought to his side of the ship. we also spend a lot more time in Jinx's head than his in the show, even though the brief moment we do spend in his head introduces a whole new art style and the best song on the soundtrack (fight me)

obviously, I'm a shameless Ekko and Firelights stan. he's my favorite character in Arcane and one of my favorites in anything ever, so it was fun to flesh out my headcanons, things I think are extrapolatable from canon, and just some of the traits that go into writing him. if people have others (or just traits and things they think are interesting) I'd love to hear them! I love my brilliant and contradictory boy!

#arcane #ekko #ekko arcane #arcane ekko #a little #timebomb

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astrologanize · 6 months ago

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pick a card : what can you do to ensure your blessings?❂

*please take a moment to take a deep breath and choose the image you are most drawn towards*

———-for pile 1 ⊹

do you ever feel like a plastic bag-...no, nvm, but do you ever feel like you've been typecasted? like you have been pigeonholed into being something for so long and now you're just attached to this identity a lil too much? cuz i'm seeing someone who is living as though they're an elderly person who is too set in their ways. you are the classic case of your ego blocking your blessings!

the only way for you to ensure your blessings is to start paying closer attention & recognizing the uninspired patterns of behavior you possess because there is too much ego and too much stagnancy. you can experience the life you desire if you rework your expectations and realize that what you've been accepting as your life is really a path that requires minimal motivation from you - there is no zest! no lust for life! if you are dealing with any sort of depression or low mood i can understand the lack of motivation but i'm afraid you have to actively participate in your life in order for it to change.

once you begin to rework your expectations and become an active participant in your life you will be amazed by all that you attract. you could go from being a homebody to the life of the party, you could start attracting a bunch of different people, you could start attracting a lot of attention, especially romantic attention, and you'll finally start feeling free and able to see all the choices you have for yourself and your life. there are joyous times waiting for you! stop settling for the sake of ego, set aside your pride and choose life.

———-for pile 2 ⊹

if you know better then do better. although i am seeing you open to the world, it is not in a way that is conducive to attracting what you truly desire for yourself. you're someone who seems to be winging your way through life but you're not necessarily taking chances or risks, at least none that are major or worth much. it's kind of reminding me of 'good will hunting'...like you're this person who does have strong capabilities but you're not believing such or doing anything with them.

in order for you to ensure your blessings you need to start shaping yourself to be a well-defined person who understands their capabilities and decides to do something with them. time to work on your ability to be decisive! i do not think it will be a smooth ride for you in doing so because you will run into some temporary problems as you make the transition but you will finally be doing something different with your life.

an annoying adjustment period is standing between you and your blessings! but the blessings are lovely; your connections with others will surely improve as you come more into your own as a well-defined person and you're able to show up in the connections as such - you'll be receptive to them and they'll be receptive to you because you will have an improved relationship with boundaries. 'you're okay' wanted to come through for you <3 take some deep breaths and know that you are more capable than you think you are. also it's coming through that you guys should take more photos! whether that's of yourselves or with others or of your life.

———-for pile 3 ⊹

lol y'all are giving baby energy...if you're under the age of 22 then you being childish makes sense but if you're over the age of 22 then it's giving adultchild. you guys are killing the mood ngl, i'm seeing that you have the tendency to be pessimistic, creatures of habit, and lazy. no bueno. it's reminding me of water placements that refuse to get their shit together.

in order for you to ensure your blessings you need to stop wallowing in your emotions and allowing your emotions to control you, therapy may be a good option for you but ultimately you need to start learning how to properly share & confide your emotions. this does involve you also learning how to regulate your emotions and recognizing what you are actually feeling instead of it being an endless cluster of emotions and moods. sorry but ya gotta build some structure in your life!

this will be a tedious process because you're going to have to dish out some tough truths to yourself and point the finger to the mirror so you can get a grip on your life. how can the blessings come when you're choosing to stay under all your perceived misfortunes?

———-for pile 4 ⊹

i fear you are missing the fruits of life by focusing too heavily on your own ambitions. it's not a bad thing that you are someone who has pursuits of your own that you want to follow but when its to the point of neglecting connectivity with others then it is a problem. you get so caught up in thinking that life is going to pass you by & that you need to do all these things in order to attain happiness or a sense of achievement/fulfillment that you end up living a life based in fear & bulldozing your way through life.

in order for you to ensure your blessings you need to calm down and breathe and trust that good things are happening instead of getting in your extreme existential moods that cause nothing but issues and stress and create blockage. your existential crisis for your life is making you miss out on the people around you and chances to connect on a deeper level because you're so fixated on what you think you should/need to be doing for yourself.

taking a step back from your own vortex and quelling these fears will help you to become present in your life. you will be able to have heart to hearts with people, conversations that give you the chance to improve and further the emotional intimacy in your life. life will stop feeling like an uphill battle and you will no longer be chasing fulfillment but instead actually embracing it.

———-for pile 5 ⊹

you have resigned yourself to a supposed fate that is not meant for you. either you are living your life not on your terms & enduring things that truly do not resonate with you and/or you are hung up on what you thought your life would be like & won't stop beating that dead horse. it's seeming like you're a glutton for punishment at times and choose to dwell on shoulda woulda coulda's.

in order for you to ensure your blessings you gotta do some soul searching to figure out what actually does resonate with you because once you know that, whatever you put your mind to...you will be able to attain it with far greater ease than you know. start journaling, writing affirmations, writing down manifestations, the power of the mind and tongue is palpable for you. it's time to utilize your wits, speak your mind, express your thoughts! there is too much you are lamenting and not enough creation happening, which only furthers the feeling of you being stuck.

in doing this, you will be giving up something in your life...whether it be a path you're going down or a mindset that is not serving you, whatever it is...it will be a relief for you to no longer persist with something that has offered little to no benefit for you. a new realm will begin to form as you figure out your way of truth, no more shall you be a sitting duck refusing to surrender to the beautiful waves of life. believe in the life that is and is to come!!!!!!

———-for pile 6 ⊹

suffer in silence type, perhaps? i'm seeing that you have the tendency to have a major guard up, you stick to what you know, you hold yourself back due to your own fears, and the crown is befitting because you do feel the need to hold your head high. unfortunately this does not allow for energy to flow to you though!

in order for you to ensure your blessings you need to chip away at the walls you've built and start allowing yourself a bit of vulnerability. keeping your feelings to yourself and suffering in silence is creating blockages in many areas of your life because you're living from a place of fear and not honoring sentience. you cannot do everything on your own and there is no reward in trying to. it's time to ask & accept the help of others because you must learn to trust in others and be open to leaving the confinement of your own walls. be a lil helpless, as a treat. it's a wonderful feeling to give momentary reprieve by leaning on another, and it also gives the other person the opportunity to tap into their own humanity by assisting a fellow human.

you trying so hard to stand on your own is only making you shakier! if you allow for vulnerability you will begin to gather your bearings and life will be able to flow for you. even though you will be feeling not as independent as you were of course, your sense of security will drastically improve and you will start to be okay with the bouts of feeling unassured in yourself instead of forcing yourself to always be standing upright (which only leads to instability eventually).

#pick a card #astrologanize #readings #long post

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after-witch · 1 year ago

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Horrorfest: Party Time [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Title: Party Time [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Synopsis: Mahito just wants you to have a nice Halloween.

For Horrorfest request: Mahito putting his darling through a House of Horrors.

Word count: 2823

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, body horror and gore, Mahito is his own warning here

Maybe it said something about your inherent ghoulishness that, when Mahito granted you the rare favor of allowing you to pick an activity to do outside the damp tunnel where he kept you, you chose this--going to a haunted house.

A cheap one, too. One of those kinds that was retrofitted into an existing building during October and then packed out like a cheap weekend carnival on November 1st. The kind that ignored safety violations and tended to hire teenagers who showed up high or drunk or both.

It was more cheesy than anything else. A series of dimmed rooms with strobe lights and spiderwebs, or people jumping out in mediocre costumes or revving up fake chainsaws. No, it wasn’t really scary… but to be fair, your definition of “really scary” had been completely upended the moment that you were kidnapped by a curse with a penchant for torturing people in ways you never thought possible before.

But it was still a tradition, damn it, and if you couldn’t get through October without at least one Halloween tradition under your belt, you might just lose your mind. Or what was left of it, considering your circumstances.

Still, did Mahito have to be a spoilsport about it? He’d been grinning at the start, one arm slung around your shoulder, even though no one else could see him. By the time you’d gotten to the third room, he was pouting. Complaining. Whining.

And now, at the end, as you walk out following one last jump scare involving an oversized doll costume, he’s rambling on and on about how these humans were terribly uncreative in their creation of a supposedly haunted house. Like you were just walking through the park and not a poorly lit room blasting spooky ambiance music as some tired teens tried to make you shriek.

“I know humans are capable of better than this,” he muses, sourly, as you make your way out of the parking lot and back onto the side streets that will eventually lead you “home.” Not your home, never your home. But the only home you’ve known since he took you, and it’s better to consider it something familiar than to fully face the reality of your situation without a gloss of comfort.

“It wasn’t that bad,” you say, lightly, blandly. “I think you’re being too harsh.”

Mahito sighs, and pulls you closer. To anyone on the street without the gift of sight, you might look a bit drunk. Stumbling now and then, leaning into nothing at all. Mahito likes this, you think, and that’s why he does it all the time on the very rare occasions that you’re allowed out.

“But I’m not wrong!” You glance at him. The almost childish expression of disappointment is stomach-turning. “You didn’t even flinch or scream or anything fun. You weren’t scared.”

You start to answer, then stop. He’s right. A year ago you probably would have shrieked yourself silly, as simple and ridiculous as the haunted house was; but that was a year ago. That was before.

“I’m… not scared of much any more.” Your words come out slow and carefully considered. It’s a habit ingrained in you by now. Mahito did love to take your words and run with them.

“Oh?” Mahito turns his head to look at you, and you catch the last moment of a grin that he pastes over with a solemn expression as soon as he sees you looking.

“Poor thing,” is all he says.

You don’t talk much on your way home after that.

“Mahito--”

“I promise, this will be fun!”

“Mahito--”

“Don’t worry so much, you’ll get wrinkles! Not that I’d mind, but I read this book from the 1980s on beauty perception and--”

“Mahito!”

Mahito pouts, puffing his cheeks out ridiculously. When he doesn’t say anything, you sit up straighter.

“I’m just saying this isn’t necessary.” You keep your tone gentle, sweet. You don’t want him to accuse you of being ungrateful again. The last time he did that--the less said, the better. “I already got my Halloween fix at the haunted house, really. And we watched a horror movie the other day, didn’t we? And you got me a book…”

Your hand gestures ineffectually towards your nest of blankets, where a battered copy of Stephen King’s Pet Sematary lay. Mahito found it in a box of books someone threw on the curb and proudly brought it to you, like a cat bringing a dead sparrow to its owner.

Mahito’s expression turns sticky, and his voice coos to match. “Ohh, you’re being so sweet, pet! But I want to do this for you. Since you like Halloween!” He resumes setting out a small collection of large bowls, most with mismatched lids, humming a song you don’t know all the while. “I worked really hard on this, you know!”

“I…” You start to protest, but it doesn’t get far. There was never any use arguing with Mahito or even reasoning with him on most things. Curses did not have the same reason as human beings. That much you knew by now.

So you sit obediently on the ground in front of the beat-up coffee table he dragged in here not so long ago--for this very purpose, maybe?--and try to calm the writhing ball in your stomach.

“Where did you get this idea, anyway?” You ask. Your voice shakes a little, from the cold or worry, you don’t know.

Mahito hums, setting down what must be the last bowl and surveying his work. “I read it in a magazine of Halloween party ideas! Some of them look pretty fun. Bobbing for apples…” He looks up at you with an almost hungry smile. “Your hands have to be tied behind your back for that one. Humans sure get kinky on Halloween, don’t they?”

Your cheeks heat up horribly but you don’t answer. It’s smarter not to indulge Mahito in any questions related remotely to sex.

The line of bowls on the table looks like something out of a sad potluck. You wonder why he picked this idea, or anything in a book about Halloween parties.

You recognized the idea at once. It was one of those old fashioned party games where the host put food in bowls and told everyone it was something gross, like brains or eyeballs. You remember playing this game only once in your life as a child, and everyone thought it was dumb and boring even then.

Well, it was probably the easiest to do with only two of you; you’re grateful, anyway, that he decided not to go for apple bobbing, if what drew him to it was the rope.

“One final touch!” He practically skips over to you and holds out a ragged strip of black fabric. A blindfold.

Oh, no. Nope, nope and nope.

“Um, can’t we just turn off the lights?” There were a few flickering bulbs built into the walls--for service workers, you think, back when this tunnel was actually serviced--and Mahito kept a few battery powered lanterns around that he threw out and replaced whenever the batteries died.

A pout. A shift on his legs, a hand on his hips.

“It’s more fun this way. Ugh, don’t be so boring…”

Ah, boring. The most dangerous word in Mahito’s vocabulary. And you aren’t being sarcastic when you think that, which is why you sigh and blow cool air out your mouth and nod at him.

He giggles, and scampers behind you with the blindfold in tow.

“This is going to be so fun,” he says, practically trilling as he ties the blindfold around your eyes. The darkness is quick and artificial and awful. “Have you played it before?”

You hum something like assent. “Just once, when I was little.”

Mahito presses a kiss to the top of your head and you fight the urge to squirm.

“If you don’t remember the rules, it’s like this: I put your hands in each bowl, and you tell me what you think it is!”

Your heart begins to speed up, no matter how much you try to tell yourself to remain calm. It was just a blindfold, no big deal. It was just a stupid Halloween party game, no big deal.

It was just Mahito… well, uh, wait a minute. It was Mahito. You were right to worry.

But you’re trying very, very hard not to--and that was as close as you’d get to remaining calm tonight.

You hear the sound of the various tops being pulled off the bowls, accompanied by little grunts and noises as Mahito perhaps struggled with the lids.

Someone takes your hands--you jump, and Mahito laughs--and guides them to the edge of the bowl.

Something squishy and a little stiff. Wet, but only vaguely. Round, like bouncy balls. But they feel more organic than that.

“Grapes,” you say. “They’re grapes.”

Mahito makes a choking sound. Did he not think you knew the tricks of the game? Maybe the first people to play the game decades and decades ago were caught unawares, but the answers were common knowledge by now. Grapes for eyeballs, spaghetti for intestines; some people got creative and made fake brains and stuff, too.

He pulls your hands out of the bowl and sets them on the next.

Your hands plunge in and find not quite what you expected, but close enough. Instead of strings of spaghetti noodles, Mahito has chosen sausages. You suppose that was more realistic when it came to feel and size, anyway. They weren’t cold exactly, but that was nothing new--there was no fridge around here.

“Sausages.” When he doesn’t respond. “Like, a whole row of them.”

Mahito huffs.

He’s such a spoilsport, you think. Maybe you ought to start guessing around to appease him. Or would he catch on that you were lying and get more annoyed at you treating him like glass? Or would that make him feel good? It was so, so hard to tell what you were meant to do sometimes.

But he does take your hands, now a little slimy with cooking water, and set them on the next bowl.

This one is… a little different from the rest, and you couldn’t quite place it. It was soft, smooth, but almost sponge-like in texture. Like a gummy or…

”Gelatin?” You’re not quite sure for this one, and it comes through in your tone. Still, your fingers squish the mystery item. “Like, an organ?” You remembered once cooking beef liver for your dad and it had the same gummy, gelatin-like feel before it was cooked. Unpleasant and odd to touch, for sure. You didn't know if it tasted good.

“Yes!” Mahito sighs out the word, and at least he’s no longer acting like a pouty child when you guess right. It makes the ball in your stomach shrink down, just a little. Even if you’re still waiting for something to happen. Maybe he’ll try to jump scare you at the end or something.

The next bowl is liquid, and you almost jerk your fingers back out by instinct. It couldn’t be water, it wasn’t thin enough. There is even a slight smell to it, almost artificial--red dye. Mahito would dye the fake blood red just to make it more authentic, wouldn’t he?

“A smoothie, maybe? Or whole milk, or cream…”

If Mahito cares that you didn’t give a singular answer, he doesn’t let you know. He only lets out a pouty whine and you wonder which of your three guesses was right.

“Last bowl,” he says, before placing your hands on the edge of the plastic container.

What in the world?

When you put your hands inside, your fingers are immediately met with a multitude of small, firm… somethings. Your fingers fiddle with one of them, feeling over the grooves. Wood, maybe? Figurines? You’re reminded, suddenly, of when cereal used to come with toys in the box. But you very much doubt Mahito collected a few dozen old cereal figurines.

“I’m not sure,” you admit. “Really big wood chips? Figurines?”

There’s a few moments of unusually heavy silence, and then Mahito whines. Whines!

“You’re awful at this game. You only guessed one of them right! I thought you’d be better at it, since you’re into this human holiday…”

Huh?

You scoff, though you’re not offended. Just confused. And tired. And wary. Nothing new there, when you think about it.

“What do you mean? The only one I wasn’t sure about was this last one… maybe the one before it, but it’s hard to tell the difference between milk and cream or whatever.”

You feel the presence of Mahito leaning over the table, feel his fingers fiddling with the back of your blindfold, and blink as the artificial blackness drops away to reveal Mahito sitting in front of you with a pouty look on his face.

And then you look down at the mystery bowl, your hands still resting inside, and bile immediately rises into your throat when you realize two hideous truths:

One. The bowl is filled with transfigured humans. Small distorted shapes of horror. A whole bowl of them, piled high, like a candy dish on granda’s counter.

Two. Your hands are red. Not just red, but red with slick, thick gore. Blood. There was no mistaking the feel of it. The second-to-last bowl is filled halfway with blood. Real blood. Human blood.

Your neck turns slowly, like you’re a broken, mechanical doll that can’t quite complete the movement. The acidic bile in your throat reaches your mouth and you swallow, swallow, swallow. But all you can do is cough and hope the real vomit stays down.

It shouldn’t surprise you, what you see. But somehow your stupid self thought he was playing a party game, a copycat out of one of his magazines.

The bowls are not filled with peeled grapes and sausages and blobs of gelatin.

The bowls are filled with eyeballs of all different colors, most of them still trailing red optic nerves like tails; with strings of intestines, thick and slimy and pale; with livers in varying shades of brown and red.

“Oh,” Mahito says, perking up, when he catches you looking at the bowl of livers. “I wanted to show you, look at this one!” He grabs one of the livers and holds it up for you to see. “He had some kind of disease, I think… see the funny lumps?”

You’re only aware that your body is shaking when your neck jerks and twinges in pain.

“What the fuck,” you mutter. “What the fuck.”

Mahito quirks his head. You hate that you know the confusion on his face is real. He really is curious about everything, all the time. Especially human thoughts and feelings and behaviors. A mad scientist if there ever was one; but at least a mad scientist had some sort of lofty, if fucked up, end goal. Mahito just was.

“What’s the matter?” He scoots on his butt around the table, not stopping until he’s sitting next to you. You don’t fight--you can’t--when he takes your hands and holds them. He doesn’t mind the gore being smeared on his own fingers, you’re sure.

You feel like your eyebrows would fly off your head if they could.

“What’s the matter? What’s the--you… you used real human body parts--real people--for this game. That’s what’s the matter! Christ--”

Mahito’s eyebrows furrow.

“But that’s the game! You put all sorts of creepy things in bowls and people guess what it is.” He squeezes your hands. “Are you sure you aren’t just a sore loser because you stink at guessing?”

How many people are in that bowl, anyway? The thought comes and goes; it would be like playing some fucked up game of “guess how many beans are in the jar!” Only there is no knick-knack prize if you guess right. Just a solid number to the bowl of horrors sitting only inches away from you.

How many were there, how old are they, do they have family, did it hurt, did they scream--

Your lips are dry when you lick them and speak, voice shell shocked and dull. “It’s a party game. You’re supposed to use things like, like--peeled grapes for eyeballs or spaghetti for intestines. It’s a dumb party game because it’s silly and no one is really freaked out by that if they’re older than 7 years old.”

The game isn’t meant to end with you realizing that you’d been feeling up the organs of murdered people, is what you should say. But you’re not sure Mahito would recognize that for the rebuke that it is.

“Ohh,” he says, and you can see it all clicking into place in his mind. After a few beats, he grins with pride. “Well, my version is an improvement.”

You must look incredulous again, because he continues. “See, my version is more fitting ” He nods to himself. “I’m much better at Halloween than humans.”

For once, you can’t disagree--not even in your own thoughts.

His version is really scarier than the original

#yandere mahito #mahito x reader #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #afterwitch writes #aw horrorfest #the original title was 'it's my halloween party and I'll cry if I want to' but it was too damn long

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nogenderbee · 4 months ago

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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕄𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣-𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @stellas-starry-stories13 request: toya, rui, and akito with a gf who loves children and babies? :3

thanks pookie <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Ofc!!! I actually had lots of fun writing it hihi ^^

I hope I didn't mischatactarize anyone cuz... I didn't real ALL events yet but... Yeah! Hopefully it's good!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

✧ I feel like Akito is not only bad but also gets annoyed by kids pretty easily... so you're like opposites!

✧ it's not like he intends to be rude, but he doesn't necessarily puts "good face" when he's taking to one

✧ but if he sees that you clearly have a soft spot for them, he'll try to at least not scare them

✧ though every time after you walk away from a kid, he'll usually complain about how much you adore those little humans

"Must you stop at every kid? And what's up with them randomly giving you flowers and rocks?! Tch... I can get you better ones if you really like them so much..."

✧ he MAY be a little jealous if he sees you spoiling kid with affections... even if it's clearly mother-like

✧ expect him to try nagging you or making up excuses for you two to go if you take too much time playing around

✧ also you're absolutely not allowed to stay alone with Ena... he knows damn too well she'll try telling you or even showing you pictures from when he was a child... And he absolutely CANNOT handle the teasing

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @yulikesminori @toyaswif3y @miya-akane @hayillaaaaaaa @stellas-starry-stories13 @hakulivesformusic @luhvashh @akiritoz @sucodelaranja86 - come get your pancakes lover~

✧ Toya actually really likes kids! It turns out differently but his calm nature usually helps him

✧ he may not be as energetic as you though but he'd still be down to play some calmer games with kids if you were asked!

"Hide&Seek? How about I seek then? I doubt I'll be able to run or climb as well as you two..."

✧ he's really sweet too~ maybe he's a bit of a spoiling type but still tries to keep healthy boundaries

✧ he definitely makes sure to include kids opinion and what they want. It may be consequences of his past... but at least the kids may feel included and not forced!

✧ if a kid ever comes up to you and gives you flower or rock, or whatever small present they found, he'll simply chuckle and tease you just a little bit about your encounter~

✧ and if you have a baby sibling, cousin or so that you often take care of, be ready for him to never turn down helping you! Especially if they're well behaved

✧ he may not know may not know everything but he learns quickly and certainly has his way with at least calmer kids! It's energetic ones that make him have troible catching up sometimes...

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @yulikesminori @toyaswif3y @miya-akane @toyaslove @stellas-starry-stories13 @sucodelaranja86 - come get your cookie lover~

✧ Rui is a crazy man. He may even be called childish! So as you can expect, he's most likely good with kids

✧ and it's not only energetic ones! He has soft sides for his too Hello? Are you lost? moment

✧ with calmer kids, he's definitely more gentle and speaks softer. Especially if the kid is lost or something...

✧ but he won't mind if the kid is energetic either! In fact, it only fuels him!

✧ he adores how creative kids may be and will gladly join ANY games they may offer

"Y/N! Come here we need a princess! He'll be a knight and I'll be a dragon~"

✧ in short, he's really great for playing with kids! So it's sure that whenever you encounter a kid that invites you to join their game, most likely none of you won't turn it down and instead will put your heart into it! Gaining some weird stares from parents on the way but kids are having fun so.. oh well...

✧ he's not as good with taking care if them though... he doesn't have any siblings and he didn't took care of any baby in his past either...

✧ so if you're in care of one... he most likely won't help much with anything else than games... He even makes up excuses to avoid changing diapers...

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @yulikesminori @toyaswif3y @superstar-ethereal @stellas-starry-stories13 @alicewinterway18 @hakulivesformusic @sucodelaranja86 - come get your crazy inventor!

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tinaswampdweller · 2 months ago

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A small little ‘Drabble’ I guess about Ciel and wanting a specific reward from you

It had always been odd, to Ciel, the way you chose to show your affections. Opting out of a common hug, a polite handshake or even a juvenile ruffle of the hair. All actions he reluctantly had come to expect from the adults surrounding him. Even little Lizzy had begun to infantilise him with her tight embraces and slobbery kisses on his forehead.

Your choice of affections were unique, bordering on inappropriate. He was betrothed, despite how he felt towards the fact, he knew not to ever divulge the means of your affection.

He found himself trying a little harder to appease you, the rare times he saw you. That was a lot for him, making effort? It wasn’t his style, he’d usually leave that up to Sebastian, but the idea of you rewarding his butler with a kiss on the neck almost brought bile to his lips.

“A rose? What is the occasion, Earl Phantomhive?” you had asked softly, a playful tone present in your words.

A soft blush had formed on Ciel’s ivory skin, still visible even under the dim lights of your balcony. It wasn’t even your tone, just the idea of doing something so explicitly romantic caused the embarrassed flush of colour. This wasn’t his style.

“My butler had a spare from trimming the roses bushes earlier … I didn’t want it to go to waste.” He explained softly, reluctantly.

“Hmmm, nonetheless, thank you Queens Guard dog for … fetching me a rose.” you said with blinding smile. Dimples carved deep into your cheeks on show and white teeth gleaming.

Ciel gulped at the sight, opting to look away. Your smile was ravishingly beautiful, being the cause of it always made him feel overwhelmed. Lizzys gummy smile always reflected her age, a happy, spoiled child. Your smile was blinding, gorgeous with a hint of a slyness.

Pulling the rose closer to your face, the scent flooded your nostrils. The smell of a fresh rose was deep, strong and dark. Giving it was an innocent action with darker intentions hidden beneath.

You took a step towards the boy, he flinched at the sound of your heeled boots. Leaning towards him, you found his position adorable, his neck on display and red face still turned to the side. The top button of his navy shirt had been undone, you suspected in preparation. Ciel wasn’t usually so easy to read, everything was a game of chess to him. Perhaps, this time he didn’t feel the need to hide his intentions or desire. It wouldn’t keep him steps ahead in this game even if he tried.

Placing the rose on the balcony behind him, you used your free hands to pull him closer against you by his slender waist. He still refused to look your way as he allowed you to control him.

Your lips were cherry coloured due to the maids choice of makeup today. ‘A great choice’ you thought, knowing that it would stained better and brighter on his porcelain skin.

When Ciel felt your lips on his neck, it was searing hot, and tingly due to his sensitivity. It was a soft and sensual kiss, almost causing him to melt and drop his head back more to expose more skin. Your lips left his neck for a moment and he thought it was over until you returned. Multiple kisses this time, opened mouth kisses, ones unfamiliar to him. Making his eyes widen at the difference in feeling.

These kisses made your others feel like childish pecks. They made his knees buckle and his breath hitch. He almost fell back onto the banister but your grip on his waist was firm as you continued your assault.

You pulled back suddenly and gripped his chin, tugging him to face you. His eyes were shaking, an almost scared look present on his features, scared of your kisses, scared of how much he was enjoying them, scared he might have found a new addiction and scared he might never be able to look at Lizzy again.

You smiled, playful and sly, before moving to the other side of his neck. Sucking gently on the soft flesh. Ciels eyes closed and he breathed heavily, deeply. He was sure some marks would be left, but it wasn’t nothing a little powder couldn’t cover.

Sorry if some phrases, wording and grammar were incorrect. I’ve not written in a long time. I hope enjoy your day.

#ciel phantomhive #black butler #ciel phantomhive x reader #ciel x reader #earl phantomhive #drabbles #sub!ciel #sub!character #sub!Ciel Phantomhive

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 2 months ago

Note

Hello blusy!

I would like to request something about Donna dating reader and everything going great but reader's family is hesitant about the relationship and that makes reader sad. Donna sensing how important family is to reader decides to get out of her comfort zone and tries to make reader's family more comfortable around her like making toys for readers little nieces and nephews after seeing their parents don't have much money to buy them a lot of toys. and ironically the little ones of the family are the ones more comfortable around donna and angie. Maybe one day reader gets sick and her family witness how donna is there for her and taking care of her and that makes them change their mind like "okay, maybe she is not that bad like they say".

Thank you!

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

Opening their eyes

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, maybe a bit of angst

Word count: 8,543

Summary: You can't choose between Donna and your family...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Ugh, mom,” you protested while your mother hugged you as if she hadn't seen you in years.

“(Y/N), you don't know how happy I am to see you,” the woman said, with shining eyes, as if she really thought that for a moment she had lost you. “I thought I would never…”

“It's not that big of a deal,” you said with an amused smile, downplaying it while you made a gesture with your hands.

“Young lady,” your father whispered, crossing his arms as you entered the house. “We were really worried about you. You didn't come last week.”

“Oh, well, I had a terrible cold,” you explained, accompanying your parents to the living room. “I was too tired to come.”

“It was definitely a cold,” your father said with a certain irony that made you roll your eyes. “You could have called.”

“Sorry, dad, I was too busy with the fever,” you said amused, relaxing in what was once your home. “I've told you a thousand times that I'm fine.”

They both looked at each other with a strange expression, sitting next to you and bringing you a cup of tea.

“I know those looks,” you said suspiciously, frowning. “What's wrong? Did something happen with Mihaela? Oh, don't tell me she's pregnant again.”

“Your sister is perfectly fine, (Y/N),” your mother said with a serious tone.

“Great,” you said nodding, blowing on your cup. “Me too.”

“Allow me to doubt it,” your father murmured, with his eyebrows raised.

“Look at me, I’m fine,” you said spreading your arms in an exaggerated way. “I've never been better,” you said the last sentence with a slightly darker tone, knowing what they really meant. “(Y/N), honey, why don't you come home?” your mother finally asked, giving vent to something you knew she was holding back. “You'd be better off with your parents.”

“Mm, I see,” you said, huffing again, leaning your back on the couch as you shook your head. “There's no way I'm coming to visit you without you trying to drag me back into your shelter, huh?”

“We only want the best for you,” your mother said, with a worried expression.

“What about Mihaela? You don't demand that she come back to live with you,” you protested, in a somewhat childish way.

“Mihaela has formed a wonderful family, (Y/N),” your father asserted. “A completely normal one.”

“Oh, of course, I'm not normal,” you said in a mocking tone, narrowing your eyes. “I've heard this before.”

“What your father means, (Y/N),” your mother interrupted, giving her husband a fiery look. “It's that your sister doesn't give us any reason to worry about.”

“Doesn’t she?” you said, blinking petulantly. “So, according to you, I should be married and giving you lots of grandchildren, right?”

“Sometimes I dream that's true, (Y/N),” the man said, with a satisfied look. “At least she doesn't live with a dangerous crazy woman.”

“Hey,” you sighed annoyed, shaking your head. “You've set a new record, dad, it didn't take you even 5 minutes to mess with Donna, fabulous.”

“Donna…” he whispered, with a fake smile. “Of course, I should have guessed that my youngest daughter would get involved with the freakiest freak in the village.”

“Marcus… Don't say things like that, what if she can hear you?” your mother said, looking around.

At that comment you couldn't help but laugh ironically, swallowing the words that wanted to come out of your mouth, reflecting before starting another argument with your parents, another argument about your girlfriend.

“Can't you understand that I love her?” you said annoyed. “Besides, Donna is a Lord, I couldn't be more protected with anyone.”

“We, (Y/N), we are the ones who need to be protected from them,” your father said, always finding a scathing answer for everything you said. “Protectors of the village… well, they're just a bunch of heartless monsters. Sorry for worrying that one of them seduced my daughter.”

“Seduced?” you asked, leaning forward, starting to get nervous. “There are at least two things wrong with what you said. First, Donna isn't a monster, and second… to be fair, I seduced her.”

“Gods…” your mother sighed, probably imagining horrible things in her head. “Couldn't you notice someone normal, like your sister did?”

“You know that my tastes are special,” you said haughtily, looking at your nails. “Hey, I understand that you have doubts, but I assure you that Donna is a nice soul, she takes care of me, loves me and protects me.”

“She's crazy, (Y/N), everyone knows it, you knew it since you were little,” your mother said, putting a protective hand on your shoulder. “It's just a matter of time before she hurts you.”

“Ugh, how many times do I have to say it? Donna isn't crazy, she's sick,” you said, defending your girlfriend, as always. “If I had lived in isolation, enduring the mockery of children, my sister would have died and my parents would have thrown themselves into the void in front of me, I wouldn't be right in the head either.”

“I see she has taught you well to defend her,” your father whispered, darkening his gaze. “What else has she taught you, (Y/N)?”

“Do you really want to know?” you challenged with a sharp tone, internally trying to calm your words.

“(Y/N),” your mother protested at your rudeness. “It doesn't matter what you say, we are older, we have known Lady Beneviento since long before you were born and we know the horrible things she has done.”

“You know how to judge others, don't you? You seem good at it,” you said with a slightly childish tone. “Look, I'm 22 years old. I'm old enough to judge for myself.”

“You're a brat, (Y/N),” your father said, pointing at you with his finger. “Your mother also thought she was old enough at your age, and what a coincidence, Mihaela was born shortly after.”

“Well, don't worry, I'm not pregnant,” you said mockingly, looking away from your parents. “Hey... I know Donna seems terrible and that she's... a little scary, but I assure you that she's a kind, loving and sensitive woman. She has nothing to do with what those stupid rumors say.”

“A rumor can be false, (Y/N), but hundreds of them are closer to the truth,” your mother commented, with that tone of false wisdom that got on your nerves. “You're in love, you probably have her idealized, and when you realize your mistake we won't be able to save you.”

“Save me? That was a good one,” you said, shaking your head, moving your legs nervously. “I don't need anyone to save me, mom. Donna isn't like they say, but I care less and less that you don't believe me.”

“You should care, young lady,” your father said with the same smug tone. “Don't you understand that we're doing this for your own sake?”

“And you don't understand that Donna is good for me?” you counterattacked, with a harsher tone. “If you're going to be messing with Donna every time I come to see you, maybe I have to stop coming.”

“Lady Beneviento is a sinister and dangerous woman, I can't sleep peacefully knowing that you live with someone like that,” your mother said, making your anger increase.

“If you knew her you wouldn't say those things,” you murmured with an indignant pose, thinking coldly about your words.

“No, thank you, I'm proud that none of those abominations have ever entered my house,” the man said with a sarcastic smile. “That woman is not welcome here, (Y/N).”

“Wait, Marcus...” your mother whispered, thoughtfully. “What if the girl is right? Maybe we should give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“Svetlana, don't be condescending, a brat like her doesn't have the right to the benefit of the doubt,” your father growled. “Keep that freak away from this house, (Y/N), and away from you.”

“Insult her again, come on,” you said, standing up threateningly. “If you don't accept Donna it means you don't accept me, so I don't want to waste my time in this house anymore,” you said angrily, walking to grab your coat and walk out the door.

“(Y/N)…” your mother sighed, chasing you, while your father didn't move, staying on the couch with a mocking laugh. “(Y/N), wait…”

“No, mom, you're always judging me, I've been living with Donna for a year and I've never given you any reason to worry about, but you don't understand, you still don't understand,” you said, opening the door. “My sister married an idiot and you've never said anything to her, is it because Donna's a woman?”

“No, honey, it's because of who that woman is,” your mother said, closing the door a little behind you.

“It doesn't matter how many times I tell you that the rumors are wrong, right? Why bother to keep insisting? I'm leaving, we'll see each other later,” you said, turning around abruptly, ready to go back home.

“Wait, (Y/N),” your mother interrupted with a hand on your arm. “Wait, my girl. Listen, next week your nephews are coming to eat at home, and I would like you to come too.

“I, of course,” you hissed, blinking impatiently. “I'll think about it.”

“Maybe you could... I don't know, maybe it would be a good time for us to meet... Lady Beneviento,” your mother hinted, making you raise your eyebrows.

“Mm, do you want to meet Donna? It's funny, you just said that she's a dangerous crazy woman,” you said suspiciously.

“I honestly don't have any desire to meet... that woman, but maybe I could feel relieved if I saw for myself that she's not a danger to you,” the woman explained, making you think.

“Donna doesn't leave the house, I doubt it's possible,” you muttered to yourself, scratching the back of your neck. “Can't you just trust my word?”

“We trust your sister's word and now we have two grandchildren,” your mother joked, which caused you to give a slight smile to her. “Sometimes you have to see it to believe it, (Y/N).”

“I don't promise you anything,” you whispered, really thinking about that possibility. “Besides, dad doesn't want her to enter his house.”

“Oh, let me convince your father, you know that he softens a lot when he's with the kids,” she said amused, putting your clothes back on in a motherly way.

“I assure you that it is much easier to convince that stubborn old man than Donna, but well, I will try,” you said, walking back home.

Visits to your parents always had a bitter taste, an almost unbearable tension that you had to go through. For you, your family was important, really important, and your new circumstances didn’t prevent you from continuing to maintain contact.

You were a simple villager, born into a humble family, with no outstanding features beyond a certain ease with words. Your destiny was never written, it was always a messy scribble written with erasable ink. One day, the day when, by chance, you met Donna Beneviento, Lord of the village, the words were finally written permanently, indelible.

Donna was a strange woman, yes, sick and tormented by her past. She had been alone for years, fulfilling her duties to the village, protecting it, keeping it under the protection of the Black Gods. You were no stranger to the rumors, to the terrible things she did in the past. You never gave importance to those acts of self-defense or desperate moves.

She was… cultured, sensitive, tremendously intelligent and she was longing to have someone who really understood her, someone who would brutally end her loneliness, forever. Of course you didn't think that it was you.

Her beauty hidden by a horrible veil, the sale of her soul to the Gods, her worries, her complexes, her insecurities, soon became discoveries for you, things that made the lady in black more and more interesting.

Falling in love with her was not difficult, her falling in love with you was just a matter of days. Contrary to what anyone might think, your life wasn’t a torment of hallucinations and nightmares, but quite the opposite, it was a valley full of light and affection, of kisses, hugs, words of love, strong and unbreakable feelings.

Of course you remember the day when you had no choice but to tell your parents who was occupying your thoughts, with whom you would spend the rest of your life. To say that they were surprised would be to understate it. You argued with them, your mother cried, your father cried for revenge…

During that whole year you did nothing but show off the Italian's goodness to them, beg them to stop worrying and pay attention to partially false rumors. They never believed you, every time you went to visit them it was the same story. Worry, fear, childish strategies to get you to return to them…

No one, not even your family could get you to stop loving Donna, no one, never, but sometimes, just sometimes, you wished the situation would change, that your parents would accept your decisions and stop thinking you were just an immature brat.

You had found the love of your life and, having clear where you wanted to be, your next goal became to achieve that pleasant coexistence between the two most important things in your life, Donna and your family.

“Tesoro, are you okay? You haven't tried the lasagna, don't you like it?” the lady in black asked, while you were having dinner in silence, as always.

You shook your head as you played with your food, submerged in a sea of thoughts and helplessness that threatened to disturb your happiness.

“I love your lasagna, really,” you said sighing, starting to eat your dinner so as not to worry your girlfriend absurdly.

“Is something wrong, (Y/N)? Are you feeling sick again?” the lady asked again, with that worried glint in her eye that you adored.

Seriously, how could your parents doubt her? The hard thing was getting her to let you breathe.

“Mm? No, no, I'm fine,” you said with a confident tone, nodding confidently.

“You shouldn't leave the house yet, you could suffer a relapse,” Donna said, with a dark look.

“Nonsense, I'm fine,” you said amused, suppressing a cough that revealed that perhaps you hadn't fully recovered. “I need some wine.”

Donna smiled tenderly, serving you a glass in an elegant manner.

“Prego…” she whispered, leaving the bottle on the table and studying you with her gaze. “Is anything worrying you?”

“No, nothing,” you lied, with a sigh that revealed your true thoughts.

As expected, the lady in black wasn’t the most versed in interpreting gestures or typical human behavior. Poor thing, she spent too much time alone.

“Donna,” you said, drawing her attention with a frown at her involuntary indifference. “Hey, look at me. It's obvious that something is worrying me.”

“Oh, um... is something wrong?” she asked confused, stopping eating. “You told me you were fine.”

“Please, it was obviously a lie,” you joked, shaking your head. “Come on, try again, darling.”

“I... Is something wrong?” she asked nervously, confused by your much more casual attitude, by your heart's attempt to give back to the brunette all the years that cruel fate had taken from her.

“Yes,” you sighed, finishing your dinner and taking a sip of wine. “I argued with my parents again,” you finally said, with a sad tone.

“I'm so sorry,” Donna said, reaching out her hand to caress yours tenderly. “It was my fault, right?”

“No, well…” you said, unsure if it was the right answer. “It's not your fault, darling, it's just that they are… stubborn,” you said with a slightly more relaxed tone. “They are incapable of accepting what we have.”

“It’s my fault then,” she murmured, wiping her face with a napkin and lowering her gaze. “They must think I'm a monster.”

“No,” you lied again, playing with her hand, caressing it gently so she wouldn't get too nervous.

A crisis was the last thing you needed that day.

“It's not your fault, Donna, it's them who... Ugh, they think I don't have enough judgment to decide who I want to spend the rest of my life with,” you commented, rolling your eyes. “What nonsense, my sister's husband is a jerk and they never told her anything.”

“He wasn't a Lord,” the lady whispered, shaking her head. “They just want to protect you... from me.”

“No, no, no, Donna, don't start with your super-powerful-Lord complex” you said moving your other hand and studying her nervous gestures, the trembling of her hand in yours. “I love you just the way you are, my love, I don't care if you're a Lord or...”

“Or a nutcase,” she finished, lowering her gaze again.

“Well, they can say whatever they want,” you finally sighed, finishing your glass of wine. “I don't care what they think of you, I know it's not like that. Damn it, they judge me when both my mother and my sister got pregnant by two stupid oafs, do they really think I would do the same?”

The lady choked on her drink at your joking tone, taking everything you said seriously again.

“(Y/N)..., n-no, I don't think…” she said somewhat nervously, with a fake laugh.

“I'm just saying it's unfair,” you said, rolling your eyes again at her innocence.

“Yes, but don't worry, tesoro, I don't care what they think of me,” she said, downplaying it.

“I do care, Donna. They're just stupid rumors,” you protested, crossing your arms.

“Not everything is rumors,” the lady whispered, looking away, embarrassed. “You know that, (Y/N)”

“W-Well, what does it matter? We've all made mistakes in the past, or killed someone, or… well, not that but…”

Donna shook her head, with a mix of pain and amusement at your stupid way of excusing the Lord for… well, being a Lord.

“(Y/N), vieni,” she said, gesturing for you to get up, a gesture you obeyed, letting her sit you on her lap with an elegant movement. “Amore mio… don't give it any importance, everything is fine.”

You sighed, letting her lips rest on yours slowly, in one of those kisses that melted you completely.

“Yes, Donna, but… it's frustrating, they say those horrible things because they don't know you,” you murmured, playing playfully with her black hair, pouting. “That no one is able to see the wonderful woman you are makes me angry.”

“The only thing I care about is that you think that way, even if you're wrong,” your girlfriend whispered, kissing you again, giving you that tenderness you needed at that moment. “Mm, let's go pick this up, okay? It's been a long day.”

The time finally came for the sheets to warm your body a little. You were exhausted, still recovering from the flu you had a week ago, and with everything that had happened, you just wanted to rest.

Donna was reading beside you as always, stroking your head distractedly while you daydreamed suddenly remembering something important, something you had to try.

“Donna,” you said, getting her attention, making her put the book down and nod for you to talk. “Next week I have to go to have lunch with my parents, my nephews are coming and…”

“Mm, well, I guess I can't do anything to stop you from leaving me alone,” she whispered in a sad tone.

Yes, it had been hard for you to fight her madness, her jealousy, her reluctance to stay alone in that mansion again.

“Yes, well…” you said, scratching the back of your neck, keeping her gaze, something difficult to do due to the spark of jealousy in her eye. “I-I want to ask you a favor.”

“If it's in my hands, I'll do it,” she said in a stoic, confident tone.

“Yes, um…” you stammered, regretting the proposal you were going to make her. “My nephews, Niko and Olga, you know that their family doesn't have much money and…”

“How much do they need?” Donna offered immediately, without thinking.

“No, no, it's not that,” you stammered, juggling in your mind to avoid that awkward moment. “What I mean is that their parents can't buy them many toys and they have to share them.”

“What's the point, tesoro?” the lady asked, impatient with your stammering.

“Well, you make dolls so… I thought that if you don't have much work, you could make them some toys, you know…” you asked uncertainly.

She nodded without hesitation, looking for a notebook on her table, where she used to write down orders.

“Sure, of course,” she said with a smile, opening the notebook. “It's my job. Tell me, what do your nephews like?”

“Niko is a fan of racing cars and Olga… Well, it's not hard to please her, one of those cheesy dolls you make will do, Oh, I mean… one of your fantastic dolls,” you said amused.

“Mm,” Donna murmured, writing things down in the notebook and laughing at your innocent mistake. “Una macchina… va bene. I'll need to ask the Duke for some materials, but it's no problem.”

“See? You're wonderful, my love,” you said, stealing a deep kiss from her while she laughed at your attack of affection.

“I would do anything to see you happy, you know that,” the lady whispered, kissing you again, brushing your hair out of your face.

“I know,” you whispered confused, thinking about what you really wanted to tell her. “Good night, Donna,” you said romantically, kissing her for the last time and turning off the light.

You weren't able to sleep, because your mother's offer was still in your head. Maybe, just maybe, it would be a good idea to try to get Donna to meet your family, although you knew it was a bit complicated.

“Um, Donna…” you said after a few minutes, turning the light back on and making the lady grunt.

“Cosa…?”

“I have to ask you another favor,” you said sitting on the bed, playing with your hands. “I would like you to come with me.”

“Dove?” she asked, rubbing her eye, with a hoarse voice.

“To my house, to my parents' house,” you said cautiously.

“No,” Donna said dryly, with a suddenly cold expression.

“I was expecting that answer…” you whispered to yourself. “Come on, darling, it could be a perfect occasion to prove they’re wrong, for them to get to know you.”

“I don't want them to know me, I don't need them to know me, (Y/N), no,” she repeated again, crossing her arms with childish arrogance.

“But I do,” you sighed, bringing your hands together. “Donna, please, it would be very important for me.”

“I'm sorry, no,” the brunette insisted, making you growl.

“I thought my parents were stubborn…” you murmured, squeezing your eyes with your fingers. “It's not a trap, I promise, I just want my parents to see how you really are, that you love and care for me.”

“I know I love you, you know I love you. That's enough,” she said, looking away with a sharp gesture.

“Ugh, Donna,” you said, crossing your arms with another groan. “Come on, my nephews are going, I'm sure they'll...”

“Nephews?” a shrill voice burst into the bedroom.

The Angie doll appeared, comically walking and climbing the bed while you both followed her with your eyes.

“Hey, were you spying?” you asked as the doll climbed towards her owner. “You shouldn't listen to other people's conversations.”

“I wasn't spying, silly, silly, you just talk too loud,” Angie said, with her hands on her hips.

“Oh,” you said blinking with a cocky smile. “Since when do you dedicate yourself to listening behind the door? Do you always do it?”

“Unfortunately,” the puppet murmured, letting herself fall between you two. “Let's see, let's see, have I heard anything about some nephews?”

“My nephews, next week I'll eat with my parents and them,” you explained, having no reason to lie to the rebellious and shameless counterpart of the doll maker.

“Oh, oh, are they children?” Angie asked, getting too close to you.

“Yes, they are 7 and 8 years old,” you said amused.

“Oh, interesting...”

You definitely couldn't waste that unique opportunity.

“Do you like children, Angie?” you asked curiously, while the lady stared at her, also annoyed with her unwanted intrusion.

“Of course I like children. They are the only ones who want to play with me, not like you, boring, clingy fools,” the doll said, pointing at you mockingly.

“You would like to play with them, wouldn't you?” you asked in a sweet tone, making the brunette turn her head towards you abruptly, knowing, surely, what you intended.

“Yes, yes, yes,” the doll said, excited.

“It's a shame,” you sighed, pretending sadness. “I've told Donna to come with me, but she doesn't want to.”

“Why? Silly Donna…” Angie said, growling comically at her owner, now harassing her.

-Angie, don't get involved in our affairs –the lady hissed, pushing her away from her body. –I said no, and that's no.

“You say you'd do anything to make me happy…” you said in a low tone, a little sadder, bordering on disappointment. “This would make me very happy.”

“(Y/N), I wouldn't…” Donna said, shaking her head.

“Silly Donna, listen to the other silly, it would make her very happy…” Angie sang, tilting her head in an impossible way.

“I said no! Cazzo!” the lady shrieked, making the doll flee to your lap, scared by the irrational anger of her owner.

“Leave it be Angie,” you said, sad, disappointed. “It's not worth it.”

“You stupid, stubborn spaghetti,” the doll accused, pulling even harder on her patience. “You're going to make the fool cry.”

“All you want is to scare those children,” Donna said, with a stern but somewhat calmer tone.

“No, I want to play, (Y/N) wants you to go with her and you want to make her happy, what's the problem? Are you afraid that people will stop thinking that you are a monster without feelings?” the puppet mocked without fearing the wrath of its owner.

Donna didn't say anything, she just sighed, running a hand through her hair and glancing at you out of the corner of her eye, watching how you curled up in bed, turning your back on her, suppressing a sob.

Your family was important to you, Donna was important to you. You couldn't, you simply couldn't choose between the two things, you couldn't stand it anymore.

“(Y/N), I'm sorry I yelled,” the brunette apologized, putting a hand on your shoulder to turn you around.

“Donna, you know how important my family is to me,” you sighed, wiping a tear that ran down your cheek. “I can't stand the idea of them thinking you're a danger, of them thinking you don't love me, because it's not true. But don't worry, just keep on with your dolls and your stupid isolation, I'll figure out how to continue without your help.”

“Cavolo…” the doll maker growled, crossing her arms and looking at the Angie doll, who looked at her expectantly.

“You made her cry, Donna, you fool,” Angie hissed. “Fix it.”

“I…” the lady murmured, thinking carefully about her words. “Okay, I'll do it. I'll do it for you, (Y/N). I would die without thinking that I wouldn't be able to do anything for you.”

Finally the lady accepted the offer, and you couldn't be happier, but as the date of the meeting approached, nerves mercilessly invaded your entire body. You knew that Donna was nice; you knew that she had sacrificed her comfort zone for you, but you weren't sure if your parents would change their minds. You hoped so.

As expected, your parents' faces paled when they saw the woman with the veil. Your father remained cold, your mother trembled, but you tried to ignore those dangerous signs.

“Well, I guess you already know Donna,” you said nervously, watching the children hide because of that imposing presence. “Look, honey, this is my mother, Svetlana,” you said, guiding the brunette towards the frightened woman, who bowed her head in respect.

“It's an honor, Lady Beneviento,” she said in a helpful tone, without looking at the lady, who nodded slowly, without showing any emotion.

“Um, and this... this is Marcus, my father,” you said a little more nervously, pointing at your father, who looked at Donna with distrust, giving her a reluctant greeting.

“Grandma, what is that?” Niko, your nephew asked tugging at your mother's dress and pointing shamelessly at Angie, who pointed at herself.

“That? That?” the doll asked, breaking free from her owner's grip. “I'm not that, my little friend, I'm the fabulous, the unique, the fantastic Angie.”

Both children backed away as the doll approached.

“Hey, leave them alone,” your father said, protecting your nephews, making clumsy gestures towards Angie.

“No, no, it's not okay, she won't hurt them,” you said, grabbing your father's arm, who growled as he watched the doll chase your nephews.

“Oh, you little cowards…” Angie crooned. “Very well, then I won't show you my magic tricks.”

“Magic?” your niece asked, peeking timidly.

“Yes, magic,” the doll said, nodding proudly. “Tell me, have you ever seen a doll that does this?” she shouted amused, twisting her head comically, instantly gaining the attention of the children.

“Wow…” they sighed at the same time, dazzled by Angie's charisma.

“What else can you do?” Niko asked, shyly approaching the doll.

“Mm, I'm the world champion of hide and seek, you scumbags,” the doll commented, before your attentive gaze.

“That's a lie, I'm better,” Olga said, protesting amused.

“Dear…we'll have to prove it…”

Surprisingly, the children didn't take long to gain confidence with Angie, and with Donna, as she timidly handed them the gifts she had made. Of course, that woman in black, veiled and silent, scared them, but they soon lost fear when they saw their new toys, jumping for joy and thanking your girlfriend effusively.

Your parents barely spoke. They limited themselves to watching your nephews when they dared to approach Donna to give her a tender hug for their gifts. The children were wonderful, they were immune to rumors. They soon felt totally comfortable with the presence of that mysterious woman.

“What is this?” your father asked, sitting at the table while the children had fun with the doll and their new toys.

“It's lasagna, dad, Donna made it,” you said, serving him a portion of the dish that the lady had prepared.

“Lasagna,” your mother murmured, observing the plate with curiosity.

You nodded, glancing at the lady in black, who, to no one's surprise, didn't say a single word, just nodded slightly, remaining silent, which increased the tension of the meal even more.

“Mm, how do I know it's not poisoned?” your father asked, dipping his cutlery into the plate, distrustful.

“Dad,” you protested at his rudeness. “You just... eat and shut up.”

“Marcus, please...” your mother said, trying to save the situation.

It was a silent, tense, heavy lunch. The glances flew like constant knives between you.

“It's delicious, Lady Beneviento,” your mother said with a fake smile, making the lady look at her and nod reluctantly. “It looks like complicated to make.”

“Oh, not at all,” you said with a smile. “Donna is an excellent cook,” you commented. “Isn't that right, darling?”

The lady didn't move, she continued eating in silence, moving her veil a bit aside.

“Does she never take that thing off?” your father asked in an unpleasant tone, finishing his meal, which he seemed to have liked. “Hey, I'm talking to you.”

“Marcus, please,” your mother said, terribly scared by the way her husband addressed the Lord. “Show some respect.”

“Respect? Svetlana, that woman has taken our daughter,” your father growled, hitting the table with his fist, drawing the attention of everyone present. “You may be very powerful, Beneviento, but you're in my territory now.”

“Dad,” you said, scared by his attitude as the lady in black slowly raised her gaze, dropping her cutlery. “Don't talk to her like that.”

“Don't talk to her like that?” the man said, pointing at the lady with a fork. “What's wrong with you? Can't you talk?”

“Leave her alone,” you insisted, terribly nervous. “She doesn't talk to strangers.”

“Oh, um... the tomato sauce is homemade, right?” your mother asked, trying by all means to divert the conversation.

Donna looked at her and nodded slowly, but unable to suppress the trembling of her hands.

“You like my daughter, you like her body, how beautiful she is...” your father murmured, crossing his arms, with a look of absolute contempt. “You the Lords think you can do whatever you want why anyone, don't you? Even with an innocent girl.”

“Dad!” you shouted on the verge of a heart attack, and tears.

“Enough, Marcus,” your mother demanded, also hitting the table. “Lady Beneviento, I beg your forgiveness for my husband's attitude, it's just that…”

“Excuse me? She should be asking me for forgiveness. He sleeps with our daughter, Svetlana,” your father said, dragging his words. “What do you think will happen when she gets tired of her?”

“Can't you stop acting like an orangutan?” you said nervously. “She hasn't done anything for you to treat her like that.”

“She hasn't done anything,” your father said, with a mocking smile. “Come on, Beneviento, defend yourself, tell me I'm lying, say something, damn it, do you even know how to talk? Or do you only know how to screw up the life of a girl like (Y/N)?”

Donna reacted, abruptly getting up from the table, looking at your father, without saying anything, but clenching her fists, repressing her rage.

“No, no, no, Donna, honey, calm down,” you said nervously, grabbing the brunette by the shoulders. “Shh, calm down…”

“Stop it!” your mother shouted, standing up too. “Marcus, apologize! You're being unfair to her. We don't know what can happen to us if…”

“Mom!” you shrieked, not accepting the cautious attitude of the woman, who seemed to fear her, she was terribly afraid of Donna. “I'm starting to realize that it was a mistake to come here,” you hissed, throwing the napkin on the table and shaking your head.

“That woman is the mistake,” your father growled, making Donna turn around again, with a furious gasp.

“Let's go, Donna,” you said, taking the brunette by the arm and walking towards the exit.

“Hey! Are we leaving?” Angie protested, still playing with the children. “I want to stay a little longer.”

“Vai, Angie!” Donna squealed making the children back off with the first words the lady said.

The doll said goodbye to the children happily and walked next to you.

“Wait, (Y/N), you should stay,” Donna said, already outside the house.

“No, I'm not going to stay after what they did to you,” you said frowning. “Donna, I'm so sorry…”

“I'm used to this, tesoro… don't worry about me, stay with your family, I need to go home, I have to… relax…” the lady said, lifting your chin, giving you a quick kiss through her veil, walking away without letting you protest any further.

“Donna…” you said with a sob, letting your shoulders fall as your girlfriend walked away from you with a quick step. “Shit, shit…”

You stormed back into your house, slamming the door shut, scaring the kids even more.

“Are you happy?” you asked nervously, on the verge of tears. “Look what you’ve achieved!”

“That crazy bitch has left my house, I’m satisfied,” your father said in a cocky tone. “It’s over, (Y/N), she’s never coming back to that house again, do you hear me?”

“You haven’t even given her a chance!” you shouted, ignoring those banal threats. “You’re… Ugh!”

“Please, calm down, both of you,” your mother said, standing between the two of you before the shouting could escalate. “Marcus, you should be ashamed.”

“I don’t regret anything, Svetlana, I won’t tolerate that disgusting monster continuing to grope my daughter,” your father said, approaching threateningly.

“You’re a disgusting monster,” you muttered in childish rage.

“For Gods’ sake, that's enough,” your mother pleaded. “Please, let's talk things over, Marcus.”

“Leave me alone,” your father said, walking out the door, angry and furious.

You, silent, stunned just like your nephews, let yourself be seated on a chair, putting a hand on your forehead.

“Damn it...” you whispered, being comforted by the two children, who sat next to you and rubbed your back.

“I like her, I like your girlfriend, Aunt (Y/N),” Olga said, touching her new doll. “Grandpa has been mean to her.”

“Yes, Angie is great too, she hasn't tired of playing with us,” her brother said, excited about his racing car. “Do you think we can play with her again?”

“I don't know, Niko,” you sighed, letting yourself be carried away by the innocence of children, crying subtly.

“Children, go to your room,” your mother said with a serious gesture, pointing to a door.

The children nodded and obeyed with a sad look.

“I can't believe it, mom,” you whispered after a few seconds of silence. “Was it so hard for you to behave like normal people for once?”

“Honey...” your mother sighed, coming a little closer. “You have to understand that for us it is a very complicated situation.”

“Complicated? Dad has been insulting Donna all the time for no reason,” you said angrily, arching your eyebrows. “And you did nothing but grovel before her because she terrifies you. If your plan is to ruin our relationship, you are on the right track.”

“(Y/N)…” your mother sighed. “We care about you.”

“Cut the crap, mom, you haven't even given her the chance to prove that she is nice, that she takes care of me and…” you said, suddenly feeling terrible dizziness and intense chills.

“Are you okay?” your mother asked, scared by your immediate paleness. “Honey, what's wrong?”

“I-I don't know… I…” you said with a sudden tiredness, a terrible one along with a stabbing pain in your joints. “I…”

You couldn't say anything else, because everything went black.

“Stop talking nonsense, Marcus,” you heard your mother say when you were able to open your eyes.

Your whole body was weak, burning, you could barely move. You were tucked into your old bed and your father, nervous, paced from one side of the house to the other.

“I'm telling you that it's all that monster's fault, she must have poisoned her,” the man said, nervous, furious.

The darkness that could be seen through the window told you that it was already night, you don't know how long you had been unconscious.

“Mom…” you whispered with a weak voice, putting an end to those horrible insinuations. “What…? What happened to me?”

“Oh, (Y/N), you're awake,” she said, taking your burning hand. “Gosh, you have a high fever, you fainted.”

“Damn it…” you complained, realizing that Donna was right, you still hadn't recovered from the flu. “I-I have to…”

Before you could continue, the door sounded with a thunderous bang, causing your father to be on alert, grabbing a nearby shotgun.

“Marcus, what's wrong?” your mother asked, also scared.

“Stay here,” he said, approaching the door and taking a quick look. “You… Go away!”

“D-Donna…” you murmured when you saw the lady in black behind the door, making an impulse to move, which your mother stopped. “Donna…”

“Didn't you hear me? We don't want you here. Get out or... or...!” your father shrieked, closing the door in her face.

“Dad... no,” you complained, reaching out your hand towards the open door of your room. “Donna...”

With a kick that could be comical, the lady in black didn’t accept the answer, opening the door abruptly, making your father step back and point the shotgun at her.

“D-Don't move...” the man said, trembling as Donna approached, grabbing the barrel of the gun and bending it without difficulty. “No, don't hurt me,” he said cowardly afterwards.

The lady ignored him, looking for something with her eye, looking for you. When she found, she didn't waste a second in running to your side, almost throwing herself onto the bed.

“(Y/N), tesoro,” she gasped nervously as your mother cautiously moved away. “Amore mio, what's happening? You didn't come home and…”

“She has a high fever,” your mother said dryly while your girlfriend checked it, caressing your forehead. “She has fainted.”

“What?” Donna asked. “Oddio… you're burning up…” she whispered.

“Wow, you sure know how to talk,” your father said, crossing his arms behind the door frame. “What have you done to my daughter, you psychopath?”

“Dad…” you moaned desperately at Marcus's inflexible attitude.

“We don't know what to do, my lady, the doctor is not in the village and we don't have money for…” your mother said, clasping her hands, with a look, not of terror, but of pity, of fear that something would happen to you.

“Telefono” the lady hissed, glancing at your mother through that dark veil.

Your mother shook her head, unable to understand her words, nervous, and now, frightened.

“Telefono! Porca puttana! A telephone!” the Lord demanded, causing the woman to instinctively protect herself, nodding and pointing to the required device.

Donna stepped aside, hitting your mother on the shoulder as she walked, dialing a number, the only possible one, the Duke’s.

Soon the merchant arrived with the medicines, but they would take a while to take effect. Your longed-for return home would have to wait a bit, but luckily, Donna and your mother took care of you in the meantime.

Tiredness made you fall asleep, with your hand held by the lady in black, who didn’t move from your side while she caressed you. At one point you woke up, but you decided not to open your eyes, you were very tired, weak.

“Excuse me, my lady,” your mother's voice interrupted that quiet moment, along with her footsteps on the old wood. “It's a very cold night, you could use some tea.”

“Grazie,” Donna whispered, nodding gratefully, or so you saw with your half-open eyes.

“(Y/N) sister's room is free, the children are gone... if you want you can rest,” the woman said, lowering her head and passing a hand over your forehead.

“No,” the lady said, coldly, turning her head back to you.

Your mother nodded, sitting down in another chair and letting a tense atmosphere of silence cover you completely. Your eyes danced with the temptation to close completely again, but you were alert, you had to be.

“(Y/N) is right, you are a woman of few words,” your mother said after a few minutes that seemed eternal.

Donna turned slowly to look at her, but only briefly.

“I-I don't mean it's a bad thing, it's wise to be cautious with words,” she said again in the absence of a verbal response from the hierarch, who sighed annoyed by the situation. “I-I've prepared some hot soup for when (Y/N) recovers, perhaps you would like some.”

“No,” Donna repeated, with a dark hiss, almost begging for your mother to leave you alone.

Your mother lowered her head, nodding slowly, obeying in a submissive way.

“My lady, I beg your pardon for our behavior. My husband and I are very sorry,” Svetlana said, forcing you to stop pretending and intervene.

“Come on,” you said, groaning and opening your eyes, hurt, but completely conscious.

“(Y/N)…” Donna sighed, caressing your cheek. “Don't get up, per favore,” she whispered to you in a tender voice, laying you back down on the bed.

“Mom, who are you trying to fool? Dad has pointed a damn shotgun at my girlfriend,” you protested, fighting against the lady's attempts to cover you well with the sheets.

“Shh, taci, amore mio,” Donna said in a sweet voice, not caring that a villager like your mother heard her. “It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters to me is that you recover so we can go home.”

“Home…” you gasped, giving in and letting her take care of you in bed. “For a moment I thought I had dreamed it all, that you weren't here.”

“Of course I'm here, tesoro,” your girlfriend said, getting a little closer while you reached out your hand clumsily, brushing the veil.

“I hate seeing you with that on,” you commented amused, making a shy laugh come out of her black veil as well.

“Shh, don't talk, (Y/N),” Donna whispered, caressing your cheek and checking that your clumsy caresses hadn't uncovered her face. “You've already taken the medicine, now you have to rest so that the fever goes down completely.”

“Mm…” you murmured, glancing sideways at your mother. “Mom…”

“Hi honey… I'm here,” the woman said, bringing her hand closer to yours. “Thank Gods you feel better…”

“Your mother has prepared a soup for you, I think you should have some,” Donna said, with an irresistible voice that would melt any metal.

“My lady, would you be so kind as to take care of…?” your mother asked with a trembling voice, bringing the plate closer to the lady in black, who took it without hesitation, nodding. “I better… leave you two alone…” she said after, making a ridiculous bow and leaving the room.

“Are you comfortable?” Donna asked, helping you to sit up and bringing you a spoonful. “It smells very good.”

“My mother cooks well, although not as well as you,” you joked a little, letting the soup soothe your throat. “I'm convinced that she's dying to ask you for the lasagna recipe.”

“Mm,” she murmured, helping you to eat. “She's dying for me to disappear from your life, (Y/N).”

“Donna…” you sighed with a sad voice. “You don't know how sorry I am.”

“I've already told you that it doesn't matter,” she answered, cleaning you lovingly with a napkin. “The prejudices in this village are strong, it's not their fault.”

“No, my love,” you corrected, with tears in your eyes. “I'm so sorry I asked you to come. I should have known it was a bad idea.”

“Don't apologize. I know how important your family is to you. It hurts me to say it, but Angie was right. Just because it was a mistake doesn't mean it wasn't the right thing to do, (Y/N)” she said, while continuing to take care of you.

“You always do the right thing, don't you?” she asked, letting you fall back onto the mattress, pleasantly warmed by that soup. “Donna, it makes me so helpless that people don't know what you're really like…”

“I'm not a good person, (Y/N), I've done horrible things, I've killed, I've spread terror with my siblings. I don't deserve for you to try to make others see me the same way you do,” Donna said, settling you down again.

“But it's just that…” you sighed, taking her hand, squeezing it with all the strength you had. “I see you, Donna, and I see you are not that horrible person you think you are. I see you as you really are, your way of loving… I see the person you want to be, what you are when you are with me and…”

“You left (Y/N) alone, with her!” your father's screams interrupted that romantic moment, bouncing off the walls.

“Marcus, please! You've caused enough trouble!” your mother shouted, making you both look at each other in silence, listening. “Do you know how much that medicine cost? We could never have afforded it.”

“Svetlana, I can't believe you're so impressed with a Lord’s money,” Marcus growled. “She wants the girl alive, she needs her alive…”

“Stop talking nonsense and behave like what you are!” your mother responded, catching your attention even more. “You're her father, Marcus. Her happiness is what should matter to you, not nonsense about monstrous Lords.”

“She's a monster!” he shrieked, making Donna move, squeezing your hand as she trembled from the pain of those words. “She's…!”

“Sometimes you are unbearable, Marcus, she is your daughter's girlfriend, and you better go in there and apologize to Lady Beneviento, and thank her for taking care of your daughter like we were never able to do,” your mother demanded, making you smile.

“But...”

“Do it! Or we will lose our daughter forever. Open your eyes, dear. You have seen that this woman is not as the rumors say. Fix things, Marcus, or your daughter won’t be the only thing you lose tonight,” your mother threatened, leaving behind her words an uncomfortable halo of silence.

Donna lowered her gaze, shaking her head softly at hearing those insults, those words that were only based on opinions, unfounded or not, about a completely different woman, about a Donna Beneviento who didn’t know what love was.

A few seconds later, the door opened and your father entered the room, head down, scratching the back of his neck. Donna, startled, stood up from her chair, ready to fight your father's ignorance again.

“Lady Beneviento,” your father whispered, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, relieved to see you awake. “I have one question, just one, and I demand…I want you to answer me.”

The lady nodded slowly, keeping her composure.

“Do you love my daughter? Do you really love (Y/N)? Will you take care of her?” the man asked, to which you rolled your eyes.

“Hey, that's a lot of questions,” you interrupted.

“(Y/N)…” your mother sighed, gesturing for you to remain silent.

“I do,” Donna answered, dryly, but self-assured.

Your father sighed, glancing at your mother out of the corner of his eye and taking a breath, slowly extending his hand towards the brunette, with a look of distrust.

“(Y/N) loves you, and it seems that you have managed to convince my wife, but be clear about one thing, Beneviento, it will take me a while to trust you. But I may change my mind if you give me, right now, your word,” your father said, challenging Donna with his gaze, who was surely doing the same.

The brunette didn’t hesitate and extended her hand towards his, shaking it silently, slowly moving it away and maintaining that defiant look that you knew wasn’t threatening at all.

“Good,” he said, nodding satisfied. “I hope your status as a Lord will serve to keep my girl away from all the evils of this village. My home is your home, my lady.”

“Dad, you are great,” you said amused. “Hey, Donna, he did the best he could, really.”

The lady looked at you and nodded, sitting back down in her chair and taking your hand. You breathed easily for the first time.

You knew it was a temporary truce, but Donna would know how to handle it, how to convince your father, without needing any words, that she was the best thing that could happen to you, that she deserved you. Besides, your nephews seemed to take a liking to her, to her and to Angie, as your mother did.

Ahead of you, there was a promising future.

“Tomorrow morning we will return home, okay, my love?” you whispered, proud of Donna’s composure, of her integrity, of not being able to hurt anyone, your family, even if they thought she was a monster.

“Well, everything is settled,” your mother said, with the same relieved smile. “My lady, if you don't mind, I would like to ask you a few questions about that… lasagna…”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #oneshot #re8 donna #re8 village #requests

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obey-me-disaster · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! I have an obey me request for the brothers if you don’t mind. I was wondering if you could write some head cannons for the brothers with an Mc who loves collecting plushies and has a bed full of them. Thank you, and I love your work!

I literally sleep with plushies every night, so I can relate to this request a lot 😭

Demon brothers x gn!MC

MC who collects plushies

Lucifer

Does he think it's childish? A bit. But some of his brothers have them so he doesn't judge. He will just look at you and think 'oh great, another one'. As he gets close to you he does think it makes you cuter.

As along as you keep your room tidy and not leave them everywhere he won't say shit, no matter how many of them you're getting. Chances are he bought some for you since you like them so much.

You aren't allowed to bring them into his room tho <\3. Or at least that's what he says, there is one hidden stuffed toy hidden in his room by you for when you come over.

Seems like the type to tuck them in your blanket with you if he walks in on you sleeping. Giving them a little pat while kissing you on your forehead.

Mammon

A good part of your plushies are won or bought by him. It begun when he won a plushie for you at a claw machine in order to show off and saw how happy you were.

Would rather die than admit it but he gets jealous if you cuddle with the plushies instead of him when he stays over in your room. Good thing he doesn't have to admit cause it's obvious by the way he acts.

Bought matching plushies for the two of you. He cuddles with his whenever you are in the human world.

Leviathan

Any and all anime inspired plushies are from him. He has quite a few plushies in his anime and video game and shared some of them with you.

He even made some plushies for you since he is good at sewing. Have a favourite character? New plushie. You like some cute creature from a video game/anime? A plushie that looks identical to it, is waiting in your room.

This is actually canon but it fits too well with the ask not to say it. He made plushies of everyone and out them in a claw machine. And when MC got the plushie of him they got a special prize too.

Back to headcanons, he 100% made plushies of the two of you but was too embarrassed to give them to you. You found them by accident during a gaming night.

Satan

He usually uses pillows to make himself comfortable when reading, but if MC were to give him any plushie he would 100% use them. Especially those soft squishmallows, he considers them both cute and useful.

No plushies allowed in his room for the most part. He doesn't have anything against them...he just sneaks in cats(and other animals sometimes) in his room so he doesn't want to risk then destroying anything of yours. But when he brings in a cat that he knows won't tear any stuffed toy apart? He is encouraging you to bring your collection. Cute animals cuddling with your plushies is win-win for both of you. He will clean any hairs left on them

He is also quite fond of the moments you two are reading something, snuggled up in your bed full of plushies, especially if you fall asleep. Tho are some of the moments he can feel how the wrath melts away.

Asmodeus

Finds them so cute and insists of taking photos with all of them. If you're up to it, he totally drags into your pile of plushies to take photos and cuddle.

He probably has a ton of photos of you cuddling a plushie. Both in your room and in his.

Speaking of his room, he has his own collection of plushies from his fans. You are free to take whatever plushie you desire the most. He will also give you any plushies that resemble him for 'when you miss him'.

One of the demons to go to when you need a plushie to be fixed. Or if you want a new outfit for one of them. He would be more than happy to do it for you. He also sprays them with one of his perfumes as a final touch.

Beelzebub

He is used to it from Belphegor. He treats all of your plushies respectfully and handles them with care. Tho make sure the ones that look like food aren't up at the front.

If he has to carry you into your room when you fall asleep in other parts of the house he makes sure to put a few of them in your arms to cuddle with.

He took a few of them into his room so when you spent the night you would have them close by. After the brothers found that out they started doing the same.

Also, if you were to gift him a plushie he would carry it around everywhere(he actually did that in canon with a doll made for him by Belphie)

Belphegor

So does he. He has a bunch of pillows and plushies to cuddle with whenever you or Beel aren't available. His collection is bigger than yours, but that is to be expected since he has been collecting them for hundreds of years.

Often steals plushies from you cause they have your scent. On the same note, he sometimes leaves some of his in your room so they can get your scent.

One of the people in HOL who can fix plushies for you in case they get a tear. He also made a plushie or two for you, that includes plushies that look like him and his brothers.

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flowerandblood · 1 year ago

Text

The Impossible Choice (7)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: angst, physical violence, sexual tension ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm's End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

He returned to his chamber furious and shaken, in one, sudden movement threwing down all the objects lying on the wooden table in front of him, causing a lot of noise and commotion.

His servant stepped inside uncertainly, wanting to see what had happened, but one look from him was enough for her to retreat and close the door behind her.

He was furious with himself.

He didn't know what was happening to him.

When he saw with what confidence and lightness her brother approached her, how shamelessly he cupped her cheeks in his hands, kissed her skin, he felt himself boil with anger.

Her gaze fixed only on him, warm, sweet, loving.

He was a Targaryen, close relationships with his siblings, including those in bed, were no surprise to him. However, he had never dared to touch Helaena in the way that this brazen man had touched his wife in front of his eyes. He pressed his lips together at the thought, furious.

This intimate touch was reserved only for him.

Her husband.

He didn't want her attention to be drawn to any other men.

Her thoughts, her worries, her despair and desire were to be aimed only at him.

When he saw him in her chamber, sitting so close to her, holding her hand, he thought that if he did not leave he would fucking kill him.

He knew that this was an exaggeration, that outside his family incest was not considered normal and only marriages between cousins were allowed. He, however, having watched the marriage of his half-sister and her uncle, his brother and his sister, could not help but see in these gestures something more than innocent tenderness.

He didn't know where the weakness came for him to touch her the way he did. To see how she would react to it, what it would feel like to touch someone and be touched in this way.

He wanted her to look at him as tenderly as she looked at her brother.

When she told him to kiss her, he completely lost his temper, because she said exactly what he wanted to hear.

He tried to tell himself that she had done it to manipulate him, had taken advantage of a moment of his weakness, to deceive him, but he couldn't stop replaying in his mind that moment when her lips had innocently brushed his, when her hand had touched his cheek, tightened on his hair.

When her tongue licked his.

Never before had any woman dared to touch him like that, him, the prince.

His physical space was inviolable and he never wanted anyone to violate it. On the contrary, when any woman tried to grab him, to touch him, to stroke his body, to pull his clothes off him, he became even more enraged and violent towards them, taking only as much as he wanted, leaving them with nothing.

He felt uncomfortable with what had happened, humiliated by his own weakness, his childish naivety.

He poured himself a full cup of wine, feeling that he needed to desensitise himself, to forget and thought that tonight he would not summon her to his chamber.

That he would not summon her for weeks to come.

Perhaps she was already bearing his child, so there was no need to bring her near until it became apparent that she was bleeding again.

This thought calmed him as he sat in his large, wooden, ornate chair, facing the fireplace, gazing into the flames in tense silence.

He carried on like this for quite a while, night had already fallen outside the keep and he persisted in his reverie, his hand clenching steadily into a fist, only to relax a moment later, lying loosely on the armrest.

He shuddered when he heard a quiet knock on his chamber door and looked in that direction anxiously, the alcohol humming in his head.

He felt his manhood swell a little in his breeches at the thought that it was her.

"Come in." He said dryly, feeling the cold sweat running down his neck, his heart pounding like mad.

He pursed his lips when he saw that it was her, something, however, seemed strange to him. He squinted, watching her silhouette more intensely in the faint light of the fire and finally noticed, surprised, that it wasn't her.

It was her sister.

He hardly remembered her. She had been the last one he had kissed before falling into his wife's lips. She made no impression on him at all; she seemed pretty, but utterly bland, empty, like the rest of them, living only her ideas about him. She bowed to him, her gaze lowered meekly to the floor.

"My prince." She said softly, gently, warmly, shy smile on her face. He swallowed with difficulty at the thought that their voices were similar, but not identical.

His face expressed absolutely nothing, but his mind was in complete chaos.

"What is it?" He asked matter-of-factly, taking a loud sip of wine to calm himself down.

He had no idea what this girl was doing in his chamber so late at night.

She was silent for a moment, but then approached him with a slow, unhurried step, still not looking at him; he set his chalice down on a small table standing next to his chair, watching her expectantly.

He drew in a deep breath, shocked to see that she knelt between his knees, and only then did she look up at him, her eyes filled with a hot, feminine desire from which his throat tightened.

"My sister knows little about how to please a man. But I know a lot." She said, placing her trembling fingers gently on his thigh, stroking it tentatively with slow up and down movements. He felt his manhood throb hard at her words, his mind completely clouded, his lips parted in disbelief.

"If you will just let me, before I leave I would like to give you a gift from me, my prince." She whispered sensually, her hands reaching up to untie his breeches.

He looked at her, breathing loudly through his mouth, thinking that he could let her just do it.

Just tilt his head back and enjoy it, prove to himself that his wife had no power over him, could not change him.

However, his drunken mind realised that such a betrayal of trust would clearly set the framework of their marriage, that she would never again look at him the way she did when he felt her moist tongue deep in his throat.

He wanted her to love and hate him at the same time.

For her to seek refuge in him and fear him both at once.

For her to understand him completely and not understand him at all.

For some reason, he felt rage and frustration looking at this foreign girl who looked like a poor copy of the one he'd chosen, the one he'd fucked, the one who was his.

At the woman who wanted to prove something to herself at his expense, to humiliate her little sister.

She didn't have time to slip off the material of his breeches and his hand was already gripping her hair tightly, violently, lifting her up this way.

She squealed, shocked and terrified as he threw her to the floor, stood up and put his foot on her chest, making her choke, looking down at her with an indifferent expression on his face, his gaze dark as the night that stretched outside the window.

He thought that's what he was.

He squeezed her chest tighter with his leg, and she gasped beneath him, trying to catch her breath.

"Mera!" He called out in a low, unobjectionable voice, his servant, stepped inside after a moment and when she saw the scene that spread out before her she covered her face with her hand, trying not to scream in terror.

"Ask my wife to honour me with her presence." He said calmly, her sister beginning to squirm beneath him and sob, asking him with difficulty not to do it.

He grinned at this pathetic sight and chuckled low under his breath, absorbed in something that spilled over his heart like a deep, black hole that consumed everything.

His wife entered his chamber a moment later, startled, dressed only in her nightgown, her long, brown hair was loose.

Looking at her he involuntarily thought that she was beautiful.

This thought enraged him even more for some reason, therefore he pressed her sister even harder with his boot.

When she saw her, her own sister lying pressed to the stone floor, she looked as if she felt like screaming in terror.

He knew what she thought.

That summoned her to hurt her and humiliate her.

He thought that he would clarify for her what the whole situation looked like with a strange, unforced satisfaction.

"Your sister came to suck my cock. What should I do with her?" He asked lightly, looking at the weeping, red-faced girl beneath him, trembling all over with shame and horror. "I don't think this is what she expected when she knelt before me."

He heard his wife gasp loudly for air, pale, breathing fast, her sister didn't even look at her, she turned her head the other way, crying desperately. He pressed his leg tighter against her body, almost breaking her ribs.

"Shut the fuck up." He hissed, frustrated by these high pitched, pathetic sounds, when he had pulled a dagger out of his scabbard she began to breathe loudly, looking at her sister in horror.

"Please, I beg you, forgive me, forgive me!" She sobbed loudly with her eyes red from tears, her mind anoxic and weak, on the verge of passing out. His wife looked at her with wide eyes, her eyebrows arched in pain and disbelief, tears one after another running down her cheeks, her lips parted in a loud breath.

She made no sound of her own.

"Shall I make the decision for you, sweet wife?" He asked, playing with the dagger in his hand, rolling it between his fingers like a toy and heard her swallow loudly, pale.

"Let her go." She whispered weakly.

They looked at each other for a moment in silence, her gaze blank and devastated.

He thought that her sister broke her heart.

It seemed to him that they both paid no attention to her sister's sobs and writhing beneath him.

The battle was between them.

However, he decided that he would respect her wishes, so he took his foot off her chest and she took a sudden, deep breath, as if she had emerged from the water.

"Get out." He said lowly, turning away from her, walking over to the table where his cup stood, taking several loud, deep sips of wine from it.

The other Lady Baratheon barely rose, rising from her knees, clutching her chest as if she could not catch her breath, his wife did not move even an inch to help her.

She just stared ahead with empty gaze, her body trembling all over, tears of humiliation running down her red cheeks.

He remembered how soft they were under his hands as he touched them and took another loud sip from his cup, wanting to deafen his thoughts.

As soon as her sister left his chamber, his wife also moved towards the entrance, but his voice stopped her.

"Where are you going?" He sneered amused, already completely drunk, and held out an empty cup towards her, looking at her expectantly, his body was not staggering under the influence of alcohol, so she could not see how bad a state he was in.

He saw her quivering as she approached him slowly, sniffling silently, taking the jug of wine in her shaking, small hands. She began to pour the liquor into his cup, trying with all her might not to spill anything; she refilled his cup halfway and stopped, wanting to set the jug back down.

"More. Do you begrudge your husband wine?" He growled at the thought that she wanted to decide for herself how much was enough for him.

Usually he didn't drink that much, but that night he felt his mind couldn't handle sobriety.

"Forgive me, my prince." She mumbled quietly, taking the vessel in her hands again, pouring more into his cup, he could see that she was trying not to burst into tears in front of him, to hold her wounded heart any way she could.

He knew that she was in pain.

That the humiliation that she had just suffered was indescribable.

That she needed comfort, the same kind her brother had been able to give her.

The kind she had experienced from him when they kissed.

He thought that she would never experience it from him again.

That she might burst into sobs in front of him and he would not even touch her.

However, she did not. She stared at him with her big, pain-filled eyes, trembling all over, waiting meekly for his next command.

His brave wife.

"You may leave." He said at last, turning away from her, sitting back in his chair, facing the fireplace again; he glanced over his shoulder at her when he heard that she hadn't made any move.

"May I sleep in your bed tonight, my husband?" She asked quietly, her voice shaky at the last words she spoke.

My husband.

He felt a shiver at the way she said it, the sound of her tongue hitting her palate as she said those words, full of respect and humility. He tapped his fingers on his armrest, giving her no answer for a long moment.

No.

"Yes." He said lowly, turning his head away, taking a loud sip of wine, looking into the red, burning flames.

He couldn't deny himself that.

The warmth of her body right next to his, even if he wouldn't let her touch him.

"Thank you, husband." She whispered, hearing her walk barefoot towards his bed.

He didn't want her gratitude and at the same time he craved for it.

He squeezed his eye shut, resting his head against the backrest, feeling the whole world begin to spin around him. The last sound he heard was the rustling of his bed sheets and her quiet sniffling, indicating that she had continued to weep.

Then a wonderful, cool darkness enveloped him at last.

He shivered as he felt something warm and pleasant envelop him; it reminded him of the moments when his mother used to visit him at night when he was still a small child. He would pretend to be asleep then, waiting to see what she would do, and she would then slowly stroke his hair and cover him with the quilt.

He felt soft, feminine fingers brushing gently through his hair, stroking his cheek so tenderly that he thought that it was indeed his mother. He thought with pain, clouded by sleep, that she had not touched him this way for many years.

She was afraid of him.

She had lost hope that any of her children except Helaena and Daeron were decent people.

He felt that wonderfully soft, warm hand move away from him, the quiet footsteps moving farther and farther away, making him feel a burning sensation under his eyelids that he hadn't felt in ages.

"Don't leave, mother." He whispered, pressing his lips together to keep that humiliating wetness from leaving the corner of his eye.

He thought heartbroken that no one was actually in his chamber.

His heart pounded hard with hope as he heard the rustling of her robe, her warmth at his side again, he snuggled into her hand with relief when she touched his cheek again. He was afraid that she would abandon him once more, so he tightened his hand on her arm, thought that she seemed slimmer to him than she always had been, but she was equally as wonderfully warm, just as affectionate.

He sighed quietly as she hugged him to her chest and began to stroke his head, while he cuddled into her fragrant, warm body, thinking with some kind of relief that she still loved him.

That despite everything, he was still her child.

He fell asleep peacefully for the first time in a ten years.

_____

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