#come here and speak tactics >:3

[mieczyhale]

regarding animal testing:: i don't care how ethical or safe people think they're being. truly i don't. you will literally never get me to support it or be okay with it. and tbh i don't know why that matters to you?? like why do y'all get so up your own ass when people have a problem with it?? its not like we can actually do anything about it

y'know. because blah blah blah science humans-are-more-important blah

but

whatever

just because i can't change it doesn't mean i have to like it and just because i don't like it doesn't mean you have to be the world's most obnoxious git. bananas how things work huh

[criminalamnesia]

GOD I LOVE traitor and how strong you've made the reader. It's amazing! And I eagerly await any future parts, whether it's big proper story or drabbles. BUT, you come first and your life does so you do what you gotta and go be amazing! We can wait. Proud of you X

im so late to responding, but thank you! <3

here’s part six :) also not really proofread so I apologize for any errors! I’ll fix them later!

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

you don’t know how long you’ve been sitting on the floor, cross-legged amongst broken glass, brittle flowers, and discarded clothes, when someone knocks on the door.

you don’t move, don’t say anything. the noise seems distant— too far off to be real.

besides, if someone is really knocking on your door, they know you’re in here.

and if they know you’re in here, it could be one of five people. your former squad mates, or the doctor.

the knock sounds again. it shakes you from your stupor, yet you still make no move to answer it. let them come in; let them see what they’ve made of you. of who you were. of who you could’ve been.

the person on the other side of the door is speaking now. you register the muffled baritone as it fights to be heard from the hall.

you clench your fists, then unclench them— stretching out your fingers as far as they go. clench them again. unclench. stretch. repeat.

it’s a tick— a calming habit. you don’t think it’s working at the present moment.

the doorknob turns. you still don’t move.

the door is being pushed in, light from the hallway aggressively slicing through the darkness you’d left yourself in. you fought the urge to curl in on yourself.

you’d been so consumed by your anger— are consumed by it— but coming into this room and seeing that damn note was earth-shaking. it was terrifying, and it was a tangible reminder of the team’s unapologetic tactics. simon’s unapologetic tactics.

the voice is speaking once more, clearer now that the door is out of the way— but you can’t make out the words over the ringing in your ears.

a hand gingerly lands on your shoulder, and that’s when you snap.

you whirl around, throwing yourself into the intruder like a cobra striking its prey. clearly caught off guard, the person lets loose a ‘oomph’ and falls backwards as you take out their legs.

everything is fuzzy. the ringing in your ears crescendos, and it brings pain with it. you’re striking your target with reckless abandon, still not registering who is flailing underneath you.

punches land and land and land. nails scrape and scratch and draw blood. all you see is red— all you hear is the sharpening of a knife or the whirring of a saw.

and then there are hands on you, yanking you away from your victim. the red slowly starts to recede, the ringing in your ears subsiding.

it’s only then do you release you’re screaming.

its only then do you see the swollen and bloodied face of your doctor, lying a foot away from you. she sputters a cough, blood leaving her lips and splattering onto the man leaning over her.

“you need to calm down,” a voice speaks into your ear.

“calm down, or they’ll sedate you,” it says, and you finally stop screaming. you take a breath.

clench your fists. unclench. stretch. repeat.

it takes you another minute to calm down enough to realize the person holding you is simon.

the doctor is being carried away now, and you notice it’s johnny and kyle carrying her. you notice john is standing to your left, eyes full of sympathy and guilt as he looks at you.

“get,” you huff, reaching down to slap at the arms circling your middle. “off me.”

simon releases you instantly. you don’t hesitate to put distance between the two of you. a few feet, at least. he just stands there, eyes watching with an expression you can’t place.

“what happened, love?” john’s voice is a soft rumble as he speaks. he moves a hand toward you, but decides against touching you— even if he only wanted to comfort you.

“I—” you start, glancing down at your hands. they’re bloody again.

“I thought it was—” you try again, but stop yourself.

you thought it was what? thought it was who?

you had heard man’s voice speaking to you. your mind had twisted things— had given you something you wanted to hear, deep down— because it gave you the chance to strike.

it gave you the opportunity to tear apart whichever man from the 141 had been there to check on you.

and you know you had wished it was simon.

john takes a cautious step forward at your silence. “let’s get you somewhere private, yeah? somewhere to cool down.”

the fire licking at your veins has subsided in favor of the chill of shame. of terror at what you’ve done— what you’ve done to the one person you had on your side. the person who was truly on your side.

you don’t fight this time. you give a nod, then solemnly follow him down the corridor. simon falls in behind you.

john takes you to his office, opening the door and ushering you inside. you move without protest, stepping into the dark room.

the two men enter behind you, john flicking on the light while simon pulls the door shut. you would’ve laughed at the scenario if you were in your right mind.

but you weren’t.

you weren’t okay. you knew that you weren’t, at least physically, but what you just did…

there was no way you were going to be transferred now. you doubted you would’ve even before you attacked the doctor.

you’re going to be discharged. you understand why.

but it hurts. this is your job, your life. years and years on the battlefield don’t prepare you for life off of it.

“love?”

john’s voice brings you back to the present. you realize you’ve been standing in the center of the room, unmoving and unblinking.

you feel simon’s hard gaze on your back. you want to cry.

how did things ever get this fucked up?

“im fine.” you say, not bothering to turn around. you didn’t trust yourself to keep it together if you faced them.

“you’re not,” john states, and you roll your eyes.

“im not talking about this with you,” you bite out, circling your arms around yourself. “either of you.”

“you should at least talk to someone, love— this isn’t healthy.”

“please, stop.” you tell him, but john was never good at taking orders. he gave them, not followed them.

“you hated the therapist, and you haven’t spoken to anyone else since… everything.” he continues.

“stop, john,” you try again.

“you need to let it out, love. we’re here—”

you spin around then, fists dropping to your sides. “for the love of god, john, shut the fuck up.”

that stuns him into silence, eyes slightly widened and mouth agape as he looks at you. simon doesn’t move from his position near the door.

“you are the last people i would ever fucking talk to! I don’t even want to be talking to you right now, but you won’t stop trying. trying to talk to me, trying to make it up, trying to wriggle your way back into my good graces.”

you pause, sucking in a breath. “johnny must’ve relayed the message, and that’s why you’ve back off a little— but one wrong fucking move and you’re swooping again! you aren’t my dad, you aren’t my lover, you aren’t my friend, and you’re sure as hell not my fucking captain anymore.”

“so please, john, leave me be. the four of you have done enough.”

the room is silent for a beat, then two. then three. and then simon takes a step forward, removes his balaclava, and looks you square in the face.

he doesn’t open his mouth to speak, so you take the chance to.

“don’t start with me, simon. just don’t.”

“the note,” he says. “you read it.”

you just look at him, a disbelieving scoff leaving your mouth as you give a nod. “yes, I read your fucking note. and I saw the stupid flowers, too, after seeing everything else you wrecked. tell me, how long did you wait after you tied me up to tear it all apart?”

he just watches you. you want to scream.

the note flashes back into your mind.

‘hope you can understand.’

“does it make you feel better, thinking what you did was right?” you ask him.

“I wouldn’t have done it differently.” simon tells you.

you clench your fists. unclench. stretch.

breathe in, breathe out.

“and if the roles were reversed,” you said, watching him. “if you were in my position, would you have expected me to do what you did?”

“yes.” he says, without hesitation.

“you’re unbelievable,” you huff. “is that how little I meant to you? all that time, wasted?”

“that’s not what I said.” he tells you, and you shake your head.

“no, but it’s what you meant.” anger is bubbling up again. you feel overwhelmed; shame and fury battling inside you. the ringing building up in your ears again, emerging from the background.

you can’t do this.

“what i meant is what i said.” he takes another step forward. “you’re just too damn stubborn to listen, always have been.”

“just go, simon.” you tell him. “both of you. go.”

“I wouldn’t change what I did,” he says again. “to protect my team, my family, I would do whatever it takes.”

you bite your tongue. you don’t want to keep arguing with him. he was an unmovable object— there was no way to reason with him.

“im not sorry it happened.” he speaks. “i did what i thought i had to do. what i had to do to make sure my team was safe.”

“and you should understand that, considering this team is all you have, too.”

you don’t respond— and even if you were going to, a knock on the door breaks the tense silence in the room.

johnny pops his head in, his eyes full of concern. “doc’s alrigh’.” he says, his gaze catching yours. “jus’ some bumps and bruises. she’ll be jus’ fine.”

“and she uh— said she’s not pressin’ charges or anythin’. says she still expects to see ya in a few days for your check-up.”

that’s what breaks you.

a tear slips from your eye, falling onto your cheek. another follows, then another, and you’re sobbing as you fall to the floor of price’s office.

the three men are staring, but no one makes any move to comfort you.

probably wise, considering what you did to the last person who tried.

you faintly register the click of the door as it shuts again. you don’t look up— your head in your hands as you cry.

cry about what you’ve done, what you’ve lost. mourn your career and your family and your love for the man who doesn’t regret what he did.

unbeknownst to you, simon is the only one still left in the room. his steps are silent as he approaches you— leaving only a foot of space between your bodies now.

he watches you as he sinks to the ground across from you, his long legs folded over each other, the fingers of his left hand twitching as he finds himself wanting to reach for you.

he still cares for you. his feelings for you were what made him do what he did in the first place.

the love he felt for you, twisting into betrayal and hurt and agony. fueling his actions, his desire to hear you admit your wrongdoings.

passion made people dangerous. passion in love, passion in rage. it was a fine line, and simon had crossed it.

he understood what this meant for you. recalls the conversation he had with price earlier— how laswell was planning for your discharge instead of your transfer.

this was the end of your time with them, and in the military. the hands of the 141, damaging one of their own beyond repair.

he finds himself mourning alongside you, then. mourning what was and what could’ve been.

what should have been.

“im sorry for what we did to you,” he says, but it comes out as a whisper that you don’t hear.

“im sorry.”

thank you all again for your patience! I plan on tying this little series up soon :)

as a reminder, I no longer do taglists. if you want to be notified when I post, follow @troiastitans and turn on notifications. I only reblog my works there.

I hope you all enjoyed :)

[kiss-inthekitchen]

same sky | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot

word count: 2k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter

“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him. 

“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.  

“Is everyone else asleep?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone. 

“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet. 

“How come you’re still up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”

“Looking up at the stars.”

“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”

“Ha ha.”

“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”

“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum. 

His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”

For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.

“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?” 

“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.

“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.

“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”

“Sounds good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”

“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”

“Less murder now.” 

“Yeah.” 

His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do. 

You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”

“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics. 

“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”

“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice. 

“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”

“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”

You laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re right.”

“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”

“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”

“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.” 

“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.” 

“But I think I should be right more often than that.” 

“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock. 

“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.” 

“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?” 

“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?” 

“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.” 

You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while. 

“Spence?” 

“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”

“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door. 

“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.” 

“I’m already inside with the door locked.” 

“Man, I’m good.” 

“Mmhm.”

“Going to bed?”

“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already. 

“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.” 

“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.” 

“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.” 

“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice. 

“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic. 

Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does. 

“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster. 

“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.” 

You laugh. “For the whole day?” 

“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.” 

“Okay, rest day all day.” 

“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.” 

“Maybe the floor.” 

“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?” 

“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.” 

“Say no more.” 

You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.” 

“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.” 

“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?” 

“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.” 

“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”

“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.” 

“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke. 

“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.” 

“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?” 

“Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.” 

“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.” 

“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates. 

You let out a little gremlin laugh. 

“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone. 

“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’. 

“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs. 

“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.” 

“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’” 

“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.” 

“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part. 

“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.” 

“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.” 

“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.” 

He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.” 

“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?” 

“I’m going to hold you to that.” 

The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird. 

You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him. 

“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice. 

You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh. 

Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it. 

“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes. 

“More like three now.”

“We made time go faster.” 

“We did.” 

“Will you try to get some sleep?”

“Fine. Only because you asked.”

You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.” 

“And I love you.” 

Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy. 

Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him. 

You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters. 

“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon. 

[kierongillen]

General Player Advice For RPGs

I published this in my newsletter here a while back, and discourse reminded me I wanted to put it more public. I probably should get around to actually doing a proper blog for this kind of stuff. You can sign up to the newsletter here.

One of the things which I’ve been chewing over since getting back into RPGs is that there’s so much advice for GMs and so little advice for players. I keep thinking over why - though the whys aren’t what I’m about to write about. However, some other folk think any worthwhile advice is system/genre specific.

This got me chewing over whether I agree with that. As the list below shows, I don’t.

The first four are ones where I think I succeeded, and as principles generally guide you towards better play no matter what game you’re playing. The last three are mainly applicable to games with a significant story component (the last especially). There’s a few more I played with, but they were more about being a good at the table generally – about being a better player in any game rather than specifically about role-playing games. I also avoided ones which were more GM-and-player advice rather than just player advice (if there’s a problem in game, communicate out of game, use appropriate safety tools, etc).

I also didn’t include “Buy The GM Stuff”.

Anyway – here they are. See what you think.

GENERAL PLAYER PRINCIPLES FOR BETTER PLAY

1) Make choices that support the table’s creative goals

If you’re playing a storygame, don’t treat it like a tactical wargame. If you’re playing a tactical wargame, don’t treat it like a storygame. If it’s bleak horror, don’t make jokes. If you’re in a camp cosy romp, don’t bring in horror. It also varies from moment to moment – if someone’s scene is sincere, don’t undercut it.

2) Be A Fan of The Other Characters

This is GM advice in almost all Powered By the Apocalypse games – for the GM to be a fan of the characters. It’s a good trait for a player to cultivate. Be actively excited and interested in the other characters’ triumphs and disasters. Cheer them on. Feel for them. Players being excited for other players always makes the game better. Players turning off until it’s their turn always makes it worse.

3) Be aware of the amount of spotlight time you’re taking

This is a hard one for fellow ADHD-ers, but have an awareness of who is speaking more and who is speaking less. A standard GM skill is moving spotlight time around to players who have had less time. Really good players do this too. Pass the ball.

4) Learn what rules apply to you, to smooth the game, not derail it.

To stress, this isn’t “come to the table knowing everything” but learning the rules that are relevant to your character along the way, especially if they are marginal (looking at you, Grappling and Alchemy rules). Doing otherwise adds to the facilitator’s cognitive load and hurts the game’s flow. The flip is being aware that knowing stuff isn’t an excuse to break the game’s flow with a rules debate either – that’s an extension of the third principle.

5) Make choices which support other characters’ reality

If someone’s playing a scary bastard, treat them like a scary bastard. If they’re meant to be the leader, have your character treat them like the leader , for better or worse. A fictional reality is shared, and you construct it together.

6) Ensure The Group Understands Who Your Character Is

This is the flip of the above – having a character conception that is clear enough that everyone gets who you are, what you want to do and how you want to do it. If you don’t, the table will be incapable of supporting your choices. This links to…

7) If asked a preference in a story game, a strong choice is almost always better than a middling choice.

Don’t equivocate. If asked “You’ve met this person before. How do you feel about him?” either “I love him” or “I hate him” is better than anything middling. The exception is if it’s something you’re really not interested in pursuing.

[barilleon]

One thing that I've noticed about Baldur's Gate 3 is that sometimes it really does feel like your companions are being piloted by other players. Sure, there's the standard approval system that most CRPGs have nowadays, but there is an even more powerful mechanic at play here: giving the player the option to shut the fuck up.

There are tons of moments when your companions are forced to confront parts of their past they can't shake. You always have the option to speak up for them if you like, but most times you also have the option to say nothing (sometimes the prompt is literally "say nothing," sometimes it's "let [character] handle this."

And this is such an important tactic of playing at the table: turning the spotlight onto to another player and letting them handle it. Because the story isn't just about your player character, it's about all of you.

When you do choose that option, I've noticed more often than not that the character approves of you letting them take the wheel. When you try to speak up for them, they may not express disapproval, but it comes up in the fiction. I tried to defend Astarion once and an NPC was like, "You're letting swine speak for you now?" and Astarion shouted, "I don't need anyone to speak for me!" He's right! This is his moment! Why did I say anything?

Baldur's Gate doesn't have to do this! There's no actual person piloting your companions. And in games a lot of people will say it's usually best practice to keep the spotlight on the players. But BG3 is a video game based on a tabletop game, and I think this is one of the main differences between the two. Maybe it's a tiny detail, but giving the player the option to relinquish the spotlight (and oftentimes encouraging and rewarding it) is such an incredible detail, and faithful to the medium the game is trying to emulate.

It's also a great lesson for everyone who wants to be a good player at the table: if it's not your scene, consider shutting up and letting the spotlit player handle it.

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ i'll be good to you | nanami kento

wc: 1.5k

summary: nanami’s half-hoping you call a fourth time.

contains: implied f!reader but no mention of pronouns, exes, mentions of alcohol, swears, reader wears makeup and heels, drunk calls, a bit angsty and a bit hurt/no comfort but it isn’t all that sad i think

a/n: this ran away from me again! but this is a brainchild from me and @augustinewrites, with song inspos: you were good to me, tequila, bourbon, and already gone

part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event | request prompt: calling your ex drunk at two a.m. with feelings still stuck in your throat

you are here -> part 2

Nanami moves in numbers. 

It comes with his personality—practical and efficient, forward thinking. 

Predicting deals from 9-to-5 looks a lot different from dealing deaths by a ratio of 7:3, but the tactics remain the same, the stakes still high; every move is precise and calculated, analyzed to be accurate. 

So he’d known—the day he decided to pick up his blade again was the day he’d deal his final blow—at you, and the relationship you built together. 

A strategic takedown of something he deemed doomed from the start. 

That’s what he wants you to think, at least. 

When his phone rings three times—the first in the middle of lecturing Yuuji, the second while going overtime underground, and the third just moments ago, bleeding out on a bathroom counter, Nanami realizes that the probability of him ever speaking to you again, alive and breathing, is a number he can’t predict. 

So he waits, linen pants and a cotton shirt while sporting a drink by his kitchen counter. 

Strangely, he’s full of hope, half-good and half-bad—that you’ll call back; that you won’t. The line between the two blurs. 

It always has with you. 

A friendly face—that’s all you were supposed to be; his work neighbor a few cubicles down his. It started with polite nods, a few casual waves, maybe even small smiles on a good day. Your schedule was terrible, much like his—one of the first ones to arrive and the last ones to leave. 

Then, you finally moved past just a friendly hello; something about bread, he recalls, an attempt to exchange recipes on sourdough. It started then, with you leaving a cup of coffee on his desk and he saving an ‘extra’ sub for you. 

(Except, it’s never an ‘extra’ with Nanami; he’d never do anything miscalculated.) 

Suddenly, you’re the first face he looks for in the morning, and he’s the last person you check on before clocking out at night. 

For a while, he didn’t know what to call you—a coworker? Friend? Someone he has dinner with at 12 midnight? 

You set it straight after the seventh ‘date’. 

Now, when his phone rings the fourth time, he picks up.

You’re cursing on the line, the sound of metal clinking on tile muffled in the background. 

He waits for you to talk, half-hopeful and half-nervous at hearing you speak. 

You always used to drop your keys by his door—your haphazard way of looking for his amongst five of yours. 

“Shit,” you grumble, the lock finally clicking open. 

He hears your footsteps, the sound of your heels landing as if they’ve been hastily kicked off. 

A party, perhaps? Or a night out? 

There’s a funny feeling that sits in his stomach when he thinks about you coming home from a date, one he knows he no longer has a right to. 

It should be good, he thinks, you’re moving on.  

He stares at his glass, liquor blurring into ice—brown edges fading into something lighter, near transparent. For a moment, he wonders if this was a mistake, if you hadn’t meant to call him at all. He’s considering putting the phone down to save you the embarrassment. 

But—

“Finally,” you spit out, clumsy and a little too honest. 

To anyone else, you’d sound normal, but Nanami’s known you for years, has loved you for just as much, and this sounds a lot like the version of you that’s lost track of how many you’ve had to drink—the same one he’s had to tuck in bed, with your arms clinging onto his neck while dragging him under the covers with you. 

He takes a sip. 

“Was starting t’think you died or sum’in.” 

It’s impossible for you to know the truth, he’s made sure of that—it’s why he let you go in the first place. 

“Someone offered to buy me a drink t’night,” you mumble, wood scraping against your floorboards. The exhaustion in your voice is palpable. 

He has no idea why you’re telling him this. 

“I asked f’r bourbon,” you breathe, shaky, “on the rocks, because—” 

That’s what he always got, what he introduced to you when you asked him why he likes it so much. 2 ounces of bourbon for a ball of ice, with time as an aid, mellowing its intensity to flavors of smoky caramel, vanilla, and a touch of spice. 

He gives a lowly hum, swirling the drink in front of him. 

“Was it good?” 

(The drink, the date. The potential new guy.) 

There’s silence on the other end of the line, too long to be considered thoughtless. His watch counts the seconds. 

“Not as,” you finally answer. 

Another bout of silence. 

He wonders what you look like, if you’re wearing that lipstick you know is his favorite; if you still smell like the closest thing he’s ever had to a home. Do you still keep an extra handkerchief in your purse? That obnoxious cow print he now uses to remind him of the life he used to know? 

You sniffle. 

“You fucked me up, Kento.” 

He knows. 

“How c’n you say this… is what’s best f’me when it hurts this much?” you hiccup, a sob caught in your throat. 

When Nanami ended things with you, he gave himself 30 minutes. Any less, he would have regretted it, and any more, he would have taken it all back. 

“Y’re so unfair,” you breathe out shakier than the last, broken more than anything, “din’t ev’n ask me what I wanted.”

He knows.

And he supposes he deserves this, aching at the way you fall apart on the line.

He takes another sip, longer and fuller, dragging out his gulp. 

“I still love you,” you weep, voice unsteady, “and I f’cking hate you for that, y’know?” 

Your words burn more than the alcohol down his throat. 

His eyes start to sting, brown glossing over. There was a time when your ‘I love you’s’ gave him reason to wake up in the morning; when they got him through the day and lulled him to sleep at night. 

But this one, this time, he knows, will haunt him for the rest of his life. 

(He’s never wanted anything more than to say it back to you, right now.)  

“I apologize.” the words come out stiff, squeezed out as he puts down his glass. 

“I know,” you scoff, managing a chuckle while sniffling, “like that’ll do ‘nythin though.” 

Nanami clenches his jaw, fingers tightening around his drink. You always were the perfect bite to his snark, acknowledging things straight up, as is. 

And you always had a hunch of how things would end up. 

You know that this call is pointless, that he won’t take you back by the end of it. You also know that each and every one of his decisions comes from a series of calculated predictions, that once he makes up his mind, there’s no changing it. You know how Nanami works, that he moves in numbers. 

Except, you never know his reasons—that the truth of all this is that he’s sworn to himself that he’ll be good to you. There’s no point being with an empty man, and dragging you into the dangers of sorcery would be cruel, even more unfair to you. 

The line is quiet for a while, filled only with your attempts at steadying your breathing. 

“Did you drink enough water?” he asks, a little out of nowhere but completely in place. 

You snort, pushing back your chair, “Shouldn’t say things like that,” your footsteps are picked up by the mic, “makes it sound like y’care.” 

He hears you gulp a glass down on the line, lips curling into a sad smile. 

“D’me a favor?” you slur, followed by a yawn. 

He hums. 

“Stay on ‘til I fall’sleep?” 

And for once, he doesn’t think so hard about it. This small thing can’t possibly skew the damage he’s already caused you. 

“Okay.” 

A creak sounds from your end, the sofa you both used to spend your weekends on; it’s been thoroughly broken in, love seeping through each crevice and dip. It’s selfish, but he hopes you still feel him through it—giving you a safe place to rest, soft and tender in keeping you close when he can’t. 

You shuffle, pillows muffling the microphone as you move around; then you mumble, sleep-laden, “Don’t forget to turn the lights off.” 

It shouldn’t affect him this much, but the reminder calls back every instance you’ve ever said it to him: whispers over his shoulder, while dragging your feet away from his home office; a peck to the tip of his ear before nuzzling his neck while he reads; a shout from your bed, for him to hear within the echoes of the bathroom walls. 

You both have terrible sleep from odd hours at the office, but nightmares have always persisted with him more. Turning off the lights was a reassurance, a quiet ‘I love you’—a reminder that it was okay to fall asleep, you’d be there when he wakes. 

His eyes zero in on the light switch to his right, humming his response. 

.

The call runs for 31 minutes.

a/n: other tidbits i wasn't able to include—reader is able to hold liquor well, and used to drink with nanami often but doesn't understand the appeal of his preferred drinks; reader is able to go head-to-head with nanami's personality but is also a lot more vibrant and loud; reader also doesn't know about the jujutsu world (in case it wasn't obvious). i also envision nanami becoming less himself towards the end of their relationship, which is also when he starts considering going back to sorcery.

thank you notes: big thank you to @augustinewrites for half-mothering this fic 🥺 what would i do without your sad ideas and songs to match!! and to @mysugu and @soumies for ofc!! listening to me talk abt this all the time lol

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[tarotofhope]

PAC: ❥Who is your Secret Admirer ?❥

(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)

Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.

⋆Pile 1⋆

Cards: High Prietess, 5 of Cups, 9 of Cups, The Moon.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 1. I think your secret admirer is someone who's very secretive and mysterious. They just won't let anybody know including you. If you're a very young person, then this person is older than you, very mature and understanding. See, I'm not getting exactly who this person could be, but mostly this person could be like a motherly figure. They currently might not be in a good phase in their life or they're someone who doesn't count their blessings, might be pessimistic even, cries over spilled milk. They also like to stay in their comfort zone and they don't like changes. They like how you're very visionary and see the bigger picture. You might be goal oriented and have a very strong will towards achieving something which this person appreciates and admires a lot. You might be working hard on a big project which might give good results in the long run and this hard work of yours is visible to this person. They might be quite the opposite of you. They might be so good at hiding their admiration, their feelings towards you, that you won't ever know, if they don't speak about it. They want their feelings to remain a secret, as I said before that they could be pessimistic, so they might be thinking of worst-case scenarios, when it comes to you knowing their feelings or even people in general, because they might be like that only, very quiet and reserved in nature.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 1.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

⋆Pile 2⋆

Cards: King of Wands, 6 of Pentacles, The Fool, King of Pentacles clarified by the Ace of Swords.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 2. This person could be someone who's an higher authority figure, could be your employer, boss or senior. They're someone who helps the needy and unfortunate. They might be doing donations and charity, also because they might be financially well off. They might be very adventurous and love to travel or the work that they do might involve a lot of travelling. A very mature, driven, passionate, ambitious person they are. They might be your same age but look younger or they might be your same age but look older. This person is very clever and smart with the lizard in the King of Wands here. They might have some pets too. They are very organised but they're not stubborn and fixed, but rather very adaptable. They love to hear ideas from everyone. They see a lot of them in you, they admire your potential and your dedication to work. They can already see you reaching great heights and they'll let you know this. They learn a lot from you and they see you as a guide, a guru who certainly knows so much better. They like your ways, your tactics because they find you very creative. You might be very responsible too. Now see, there could be 2 scenarios here, for some of you, this person just wants to treat you like their own family in the long run and you'll feel that familial connection, while for the others of you, this person might see in you, a romantic long term partner, they might be thinking of marrying you and having a family with you and they're so clear about this connection in their heart but somehow they just can't gather the courage to speak about their feelings to you.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 2.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

⋆Pile 3⋆

Cards: The Devil clarified by 2 of Pentacles, The Empress, 4 of Cups and 9 of Wands Reversed.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 3. This secret admirer of yours could be someone who is very dedicated to their work and are very busy most of the time. For a few handful of you, this could be a very successful person. They could also be a businessman/businesswoman. They might be the studious and scholar kind of kid. For a few of you, this connection could be related to your school or college. They crave a meaningful relationship but are mostly lonely because they are so busy in their life, maybe, for them, their work comes first but because of this, they are a self-made person too. They have a good sense of self and nobody can take them down because they've struggled a lot already to reach wherever they are now. They appreciate you for your networking skills, maybe you chitchat a lot and have a huge circle of friends. You might be more social than them and so they like you for that. They just love how you can be so open and friendly with everyone around you and they hesitate so much to do that. They might also be someone who loves children. It could be so that even though you're a social butterfly, you do not speak much with this person because maybe you both have a professional relationship, or there could be physical distance between you guys or timing issues or a misunderstanding or any other reason. It also seems to them like you have your guards up only for them and they want you to be open and friendly with them too. This pile goes more towards romantic liking but can be platonic too.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 3.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

⋆Pile 4⋆

Cards: King of Cups, 3 of Swords, Justice clarified by 8 of Cups, Knight of Wands.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 4. Your secret admirer could be someone who's very emotionally mature and balanced. They do not let their emotions and past traumas take the best of them like they once did, because they could have had their heart broken earlier and that could've led to lack of confidence and self-esteem issues in them. Now, this could have been either platonic or romantic. They've walked away from it and moved on. They've learnt to see people for what they really are rather than seeing through rose colored glasses. They see an innocence in you which is very pure. They know you're not the one to break hearts but rather they feel safe around you. Now, this person could be around your age and they seem to closely know you. They could be a friend of yours or a friend of a friend, anyone that you talk to or are close with. If you're a friend then they want to be more than just friends. This pile is mostly talking about a romantic connection. They want you to feel the same sparks as them. They might even be dropping hints here and there but you're not taking those hints, while for some of you, this person is openly flirting with you. I don't see bad intentions here though. They seem genuine. They want to have a confirmation from you because you might be sending mixed signals to them. They want to be sure if you're interested too, because they're just so excited over this. They want to begin a relationship with you because they're hoping for the best.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 4.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

⋆Pile 5⋆

Cards: The Hermit clarified by The World, 4 of Pentacles, Knight of Swords and The Magician.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 5. For half of my pile 5, your secret admirer could be someone who's very wise and likes their solitude. They might be a guru, coach or a teacher. They've gathered an abundance of knowledge. For the other half of you, It's talking about many people, I can see that these are mature and wise people who are seeking knowledge so it could be that, you might be a coach, guru or a teacher to these people. This is an entertainer-audience/fandom pile as well. The audience are the admirers, some secretly, some loud ones. People of this pile and their admirers are very alike, they do share some common ground. You both like to do your own thing, you've maintained strong and healthy boundaries around you. You guys are very reserved and picky. You stand firm and you're proud and happy with whatever you have and whatever you're doing. This group could be a bit impatient and impulsive, and you guys seem to react quickly and strongly to violence and injustice. This group is strongly connected to their secret admirer/s like a soul family. Your secret admirer/s want you to know that you're very good at whatever you're doing. Keep up with it because it really helps them a lot. They are there with you. They want you to know that you're so talented and loved. You don't need validation and you don't need to prove it to anybody(if you're doing this), things will eventually come to surface and you'll get what you deserve. You are the candle who does not see their own light.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 5.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings every Tuesday and Friday. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.

——————————— ♡ ♡ ♡ ———————————

[thebisexualwreckoning]

Armand's backstory and how I, your local bengali vampire fucker and armand's 24/7 defence lawyer, am going to make him bengali and muslim while still keeping it showcannon accurate

(Note: this is not meant to be taken seriously and is very much just written because I was bored and had time on my hands and if i have gotten anything wrong please correct me)

One thing that always annoyed me about IWTV showcannon is the fact that armand pre-marius days were either left majorly unexplored or made absolutely no sense to the time period. Which, I find pretty surprising considering the care and sensitivity Louis' new backstory was handled with by the same creators and show writers.

We know 3 things about Armand and who he is as a character in regards to his ethnicity:

His birth is Arun

He is Muslim

And that he was taken from Delhi somewhere around the early 15th century

For the purposes of this essay, we are going to assume all of this is true and not something Armand made up to get sympathy from both Louis and the audience.

Armand's birth name being Arun, while incredibly lazy, does make his identity as a bengali man much easier to confirm. My own full blooded formerly bangladeshi grandfather has the name Arun and Arun continues to be an incredibly popular bengali name for boys to this day. The problem arises when it comes to his religion.

The thing about the name Arun is that it's an incredibly *Hindu* first name, given that it is quite literally one of the names for the Hindu god of the sun (Source: I'm Hindu and confirmed with my mom who is sitting beside me scrolling on facebook). While muslim people can have the name Arun, given that Bengal was still an independent kingdom around the time which Armand would have been born in, his parents being hindu would have been likely.

However, around a similar time, the Mughals were setting up shop in, you guessed it, delhi and the surrounding region. Now, my proposal is as such: During the same time period, many parents sold their children to zamindars (land owners) for money or food or land. Young Arun's parents did the same thing. Now, this zamindar either sells armand to someone else immediately after who takes him delhi or takes young arun to delhi himself where he either sets up shop with him or once again sells arun to someone else.

Seperated from his parents and newly immigrated indenture (because yes, mughal era punjab and bengal were different kingdoms and as such this would count as immigration) to a kingdom which had just gone through a major political upheaval and had a new ruler forcibly converting people to islam, arun, who has no ties to hinduism given that a. he is a child and b. his hindu parents very much just sold him into slavery, converts to islam as well as a safety tactic.

Thus child arun grows into teen arun and he has never known anything of his life before delhi but those first few years that he spent in bengal and has definitely had no contact with hinduism and has been a devout muslim for the vast majority of his life. Here is where things get a bit iffy. There are two ways how the rest of this can now go.

Route no. 1, armand's indenture is sold to the portuguese, the portuguese take him to europe, marius buys him, everything proceeds as it must.

Route no. 2, the overly complicated, book and show canon accurate version which requires some significant suspension of disbelief and handwaving to accomplish but i like it so i'm still writing down this crack theory. Also we're doing this in dot points now because i'm getting tired:

We know armand speaks crimean because daniel mentions it after he catches fake rashid praying

crimea was part of the ottoman empire during this time period.

the ottoman empire had relatively friendly relations with the mughals because they were afraid of babur.

crimean ottoman merchants buy armand's indenture

armand ends up in crimea

crimea and kievan rus, book armand's original homeland's complex relation means armand ends up in kievan rus.

Things proceed as they did in the books for how armand goes from kievan rus to under marius's hold

and that's all i have, this has been your local crack theorist on tonight's armand show. see you next time.

[dtrghost]

closeness and proximity

Side note: This is my first ever tumblr fic, so uh, be gentle!! moving on!

pairing: ghost x f!reader

synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.

warnings: inaccurate military language and sequences, violence, angst, descriptions of interrogation and torture, INTENSE gore (imo), cursing, allusions to mental illness (reader has sociopathic tendencies) you get the gist. If you have a weak stomach or faint heart, please do not read this, like please.

I'd also like to start this off by saying that the mc is not a good person, and that is on purpose. I've seen a lot of the angel fics where ghost falls for his antithesis, so I decided to try something new. So here, please forgive any mistakes.

if this does become a series there will most likely be smut because,,, yes.

(update it's becoming a series so if someone wants to be tagged for that lmk cause i have so many ideas for this)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word count: 3.4k

"Sunshine how copy?" Ghost's gruff, static filled voice called through coms, scope checking the parameters of the building she found herself held up in. She didn't respond at first, busy fighting for her life in a basement underneath the building they weren't aware of.

The deeper she went the harder it was to understand what was being relayed to her, so she settled on doing it on her own. He listened to a man grunt, their body dropping to the floor under her boot as she took a deep breath.

"There's a basement underground, coms are cutting out. I'm taking charge on clearing the basement. I'll report when I get to the surface. Sunshine out." She loathed her callsign with a passion. To speak it caused a burning hatred to spark in the lowest depths of her heart and made her cringe horribly. However, she knew it was better than letting everyone know her real name, so she dealt with it.

Ghost sighed, knowing she couldn't be stopped once she started. She had been on a few missions together in the past few years, he knew she was uptight and lacked the emotional capacity to make friends with others. It made him wonder why, what could've been that bad to freeze her heart over and shrink it to the size of the pebble he was crushing under his foot as he shifted uncomfortably. People would try and try to thaw her out, yet always failed.

He waited, taking out strays that attempted to heed the possible rescue requests that came from that basement, and patiently waited.

"This is Sunshine, basement cleared. Might wanna come take a look at this." His eyebrows furrowed, affirming the request and making his way down quickly, not wanting to stay in the open for too long. He made his way to the basement, eyes widening at the various bodies that trailed to wherever she was down there.

Had she done this all by herself?

He followed the bodies all the way to her, lights flickering, casting a bland white light on the concrete walls. seeing her digging through an opened trunk in a room filled with them.

"Weapons. American." Sunshine reported, glancing at him as he took his place next to her, seeing the American flag painted onto the inside of the lid. She turned at the sound of a groan, a soldier she left alive rousing to consciousness.

"Fuckin' hell. This mission was to take out ultranationalists." Ghost sighed. She didn't respond, the task force member watching her turn on her heel and grab the soldier by vest, throwing him against the wall with impressive strength. Blood flowed out of the back of his head, smearing against the wall as he slowly slid to the floor. He had never seen her in interrogation, but he had heard from those who have.

Brutal, heartless, some had to exit the room.

He wouldn't. He's witnessed plenty of torture tactics, even had to rely on some himself to get information necessary for national security. But this is another reason why they called her 'Sunshine', because to others she didn't feel remorse for what she did, some said she enjoyed it even, that her eyes brightened like the sun peaking over the horizon. Whether that was true or not he'd figure out now, as eager as he was. He watched her take out her knife, flipping it in her hand as she crouched to the soldier's level.

"Where'd they come from." She asked simply, keeping an even tone that surprised Ghost. He expected something more fierce, intimidating, but it was as if she was starting a conversation with a normal person. The victim attempted to spit in her face, but with a quick turn on the head it landed on the floor behind her. Her knife dug itself into his foot, his cries of pain echoing in the basement as she twisted it. The sounds of his bones cracking made Ghost shiver.

"Where'd they come from. Who sold them to you." She persisted, her face void of all emotion as she ripped the blade out of his foot. She sighed, turning to ghost who stood in the back, surveying the action. His eyebrows furrowed as she pointed to the door with her knife.

"Wait outside. This might take awhile." At first he didn't move, but the hint of impatience in her eyes spooked him out, for reasons unknown to him, but instinct told him to listen. So he slowly retreated and stood watch outside for anyone either getting up or rushing down the stairs. Y/N turned back to her victim, seeing two loops with chains hanging off of them imbedded into the wall. She tied his arms up, leaving his body sagging down.

Ghost listened to her repeat her questions, and when she didn't get an answer, a shout would follow. But those shouts turned to ear-piercing screams very quickly. He listened to pleads and begs of mercy to understand him, that he couldn't say anything out fear to what they'd do to him.

"Imagine what I'll do next if I don't get the response I want." She'd respond.

The bones cracking, the retch of vomiting, blood splattering onto the cold concrete.

"If you think you can outlast me, that I'll get tired of this and stop for the night to let you regain some of your humanity, you're wrong. Because unfortunately for you sweetheart." The blade tore through his skin, another bellow of pain emerging from his throat as he squirmed in his place. They were both coated in blood, her eyes dull and her ears tuning out the noise. To her, it was as if he was silent, his screams didn't penetrate through to her, and talked and talked until it drove him mad.

"I don't have all night, and I'm getting impatient. You won't die, I wouldn't allow that. I went through med school, graduated top of my class with a doctorate in Neuroscience. I know how to break." Which was evident as his leg was broken and facing different directions from the knee down to his toes.

"And I know how to fix. I'll keep you alive a lot longer than the night, and I'll do a lot worse. So if you want this to end, start talking, or you're in for a long week." Simon wondered what she was doing. His mind went over the possibilities until her victim finally cracked after the final scream he unleashed into the empty basement. He detailed a secret arms trade between an ally of the United States' and another country, which would lead to the likeliness of intentions for them.

War.

Y/N huffed, ripping off a piece of the soldiers shirt that wasn't soaked in sweat, blood, or vomit, which was a very small one, and wiping her hands clean as best as she could.

"Could've said that 10 minutes ago. Now, you'll bleed out within the next 5. Shame." Ghost listened to his anguished sobs as footsteps approached him, turning around from the entrance to see her, covered in blood. His eyes widened slightly, noticing a piece of...

Her eyes followed his to her vest, noticing a very small piece of flesh sitting between her shirt and gear before flicking it off to the side.

"Hopefully he didn't have HIV." She joked, but there was no humor in her voice, no sign of her finding it funny at all, as if she said it to just say it. Ghost didn't respond, he wasn't sure how. He slowly moved to look inside the room, the curiosity of what she did to the soldier eating him alive, until she grabbed his roughly.

"Don't." The word sent shivers down his spine, and he knew better than the disobey as she had operational command authority, and would likely court martial him if he had. So he took a step back and maintained eye contact, radioing in to Price.

"Captain, this is Ghost. How copy." He called, his gruff voice bringing a smile to her lips that he couldn't see due to her mask which was just a boring black one, decorated with blotches of drying blood that lightened up enough to see. "This is Price."

"We found weapons and gear, they're American." He went onto explain the situation, being weary of his mission leader walking around him in circles, waiting impatiently as he reported their findings.

"Copy that. I'll transfer this to Lanswell. Good work, report back to base for debrief."

"Copy, Ghost out." He connected his radio back to his vest. She took out her pistol, leading him to pull out his own. The behavior she exhibited was one he hadn't seen often, and it led to a deep mistrust he couldn't shake. She smirked, turning around, walking back in the room, and confirming her kill with a bullet between the eyes before reappearing in front of him.

He looked at her suspiciously as she gestured to the stairs, wondering who trained her, who made her into what she is now. She wasn't normal, not like the rest of them, she had no signs of remorse, care, or empathy for the people she killed, and she killed them with ease. Over 30 soldiers in one cramped basement and she came out unscathed, in tip top shape. He followed her out and made it to the landing zone where a helicopter came to pick them up.

She was silent the whole way back, Price being there to greet the two before they sat through debrief.

"Sunshine, we have orders from headquarters to have you join Task Force 141. Ghost is to watch over you. An official introduction will be made tomorrow." Price announced, not missing the tightened grip of Ghost's fist on the table.

"Copy that captain." She responded in her usual tone, only fueling Ghost's anger as he turned to glare at her, though she only ignored him, keeping her gaze unwavering on Price.

"Hit the showers soldier." Price dismissed, Y/N being the first to leave. But before she did, she turned to look down at her new partner.

"Happy to be on the team, Mr. Riley." It took his everything to not jump to his feet and knock her out, holding his breath to calm himself down as she walked away, the door shutting behind her. He hated that she had power over him, and worse that she rubbed it in his face.

"There's no chance in hell I'll stand for her being on my team." He immediately threw at him, standing up in his seat with his finger pressing firmly on the table in front of him.

"First, it's my team. Second, It's not my choice, orders are orders." Ghost growled lowly, clearly upset over the lack of fighting to keep her off, to keep her away to those he held near and dear to his heart, even if that wasn't too close to begin with. He saw her as a danger, an immediate threat, someone who belonged in an institution before they saw the battlefield.

"Then send an appeal. She's a war criminal. Tell em that!" He snapped.

"Bloody hell we're all war criminals. Then we'll be stuck in prison with her and you'll complain some more." Price groaned, rubbing his forehead, clearly irritated by his soldier's insistence.

"Not like that. Not how she is. She'll kill one of us before we get the next mission, hell she parade around our bodies like a joker and hail-" Price's hand slammed on the table, cutting his lieutenant off.

"Quiet." Ghost went silent, sighing deeply as he waited for Price to gather the right words, to somehow ease his mistrust in her, though he doubted she could do that. He watched as he shut the door and locked it, keeping his voice hushed, standing closer to his comrade.

"This is classified information, what I say stays in this room and is to never be discussed with anyone else. Is that understood lieutenant." Ghost's eyes widened for a moment before nodding in affirmation, waiting for his captain to continue.

"She- she wasn't brought up normally. As a great many soldiers weren't, hence why many of them join the ranks in the first place. She was a prodigy, she became a seal at 17, and on her second mission she was set up, deserted, and kidnapped. Nobody knows what happened to her in there, a search team was sent out, but she wasn't found til a few months later, and when she came out after she was different."

She was a child.

That's all Ghost could thing about. God knows what happened to her in there, and he didn't want to think about it.

"She exhibited sociopathic tendencies, she was closed off, didn't speak for a very long time. She failed psychological evaluation requirements, depression, ptsd, ecetera. Even then they sent her back out on missions a couple months later." Simon's eyes blew open, Price nodding glumly.

"Missions? Fuckin' hell, she needs help not special ops." He sneered, not at Price, but his anger was seeping through at rates he couldn't control. He was angry, how could they do that to someone? Did they not care, not even a little bit for her life? Her wellbeing?

"I know. But they're not taking her out any time soon, and now that she's on our team the least we can do is try to help her. I knew her before she became this. She was a kind soul." His voice dropped to a whisper, as if reminiscing, and he was. Her bright eyes, so full of potential when they met for her first mission, how she wheezed when she laughed. She was a kid, and it hurt his heart thinking about what she turned into over the last 6 years. Ghost nodded, silently agreeing to his motives before Price simply waved him off.

Simon hit the showers, scrubbing off the dirt and gunpowder that clung to his skin, watching the water turn black as the face paint drizzled down into it. The captain's words ran through his head over and over, the words going in one ear, through his brain, and out the other in a constant circle. He knew firsthand how corrupt his line of work could be, but that didn't make him any less angry when it revealed itself to him in the ways it did.

When he exited, fully dried and clothed with his mask back on, he passed by Y/N's room, noticing the light peaking out from underneath the door. He sighed quietly, his hand coming up and knocking on the door.

"It's open." Her cold voice responded, though it sounded more distant than before. He twisted the knob and let the door open, seeing her laying on her cot in deep thought. He went to question her, until he realized that she probably listened in on their conversation.

"You were listening." She nodded once, curtly and formally before sitting up and turning to look at him. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, analyzing every aspect about him. He felt like he was being stripped naked just by her look, his soul bare for her to look into.

Her eyes drifted over his exposed arms, the sleeveless tank he wore leaving them on display. He was a big guy, his arms were veined and muscled, tattoos filling up a majority of the space, combined with scars that passed through some of them. The top he wore was a bit tight, outline his chest in an attractive way, but she forced her eyes away, knowing he already caught onto what she was staring at.

"Price is right. I wasn't always like this. And I think he was the only one to notice, or at least point it out." She began, drawing attention away from the fact she just checked him out shamelessly.

"Wasn't right, what happened to you." He replied stiffly. She snickered, standing up. He watched her pace the room, twisting a knife in her hands, causing him to tense. She noticed.

"I'm not going to stab you lieutenant." She reassured, though it didn't help at all as she went on. She wasn't sure what she felt, confused for sure, as to why she was unable to emotionally process her emotions or evaluate the information she heard, as if her mind was barring her from contextualizing her state of mind. She knew she wasn't normal, but she couldn't bring herself to accept it and label herself.

"I was 17 when I was taken, you know that. Had a rough upbringing, I won't explain that to you now." She wasn't sure where she was going with this, and neither was he, but he'd listen for a bit to try and understand her more, maybe to trust her more now that she was his teammate. "I can feel emotion you know. Only to a certain degree, I can empathize. Fleeting, but it's there sometimes. I do feel some remorse, but you know how we are in this field. Weakness will get you killed, so you internalize it, you keep it buried underneath everything else, and because my everything else was stripped away with me, it just sits in here." She tapped her temple and shrugged. He understood what she meant, he did that too. He withheld his shame, his guilt, and his remorse, remaining a stone cold figure in the field. He saved the emotional crap for his time alone where he could deal with it in the way he knew how.

"You just let it sit there then?" He pressed, crossing his arms over his chest. She nodded.

"Don't know what to do with it. Lost my sense of self and all I know is this job. I do try though, I try to force some tears like I've seen others do, but the only time these.. feelings present themselves is on my missions, which is why everyone thinks I enjoy it. But I don't, for the record, I just can't control it like you guys do. And I envy you for that." His eyes widened slightly.

"Envy, huh."

"Mhm. You can talk to each other, find common ground and relate, make friends and connections. I can't because I don't feel like you guys do. And then you demonize me and outcast me more than I already am, so. Oops." He thought she was getting upset, but she wasn't, there was not a hint of anger or sadness or negative emotion in her person whatsoever, none that he could see anyway. Her arms were loose and carefree as she swung them around every time she turned her heel to pace back in the direction she just walked in.

"We can help you." Her first sign of feeling was an eye roll with a steady irritated gaze. But she didn't say anything. The idea of needing help repulsed her beyond anything else, made her want to punch a wall and scream, her eyes widened. Anger. There it is, outside of a mission too. She hummed, looking back at him.

"Alright Casper." He grunted, displeased by the new nickname which made her smile widen cheekily. She searched his eyes for a moment, finding entertainment in the small flames in his amber eyes, how they flickered and danced when he found something humorous, how they died out when he found something unamusing or boring, how they raged when he grew angry or determined to finish something with a newfound passion.

She liked to think he had that burn in his eyes when Price spoke to him about the notion of helping her, hoping that he'd care that much even if she didn't want the help, or perhaps she did, that would explain the want would it not? That was a thought for later. For now she'd do her job the way she knew how, she wouldn't change, not yet, not that she knew how anyway.

"We're going out for a drink tomorrow night, care to tag along." He offered, jousting his chin up at her in a heads up manner.

"I don't drink." She replied, monotone as she laid down on her cot, shutting her eyes with a sigh. He watched her body sink into the bed, all stress and tension releasing, and he took that as his dismissal. He shut the door behind him, releasing a breath and walking back to his room, confused and tired where he slept on the day's events.

Though he was curious on how tomorrow would turn out.

And that's it! If you want a series out of this let me know!! It's my first fic and I'll probably binge a bunch because I feel like writing. I'm still trying to figure out the whole border thing I wanna make everything aesthetic or whatever but yeah.

See you guys next time!!

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Cod Characters General Dating Headcanons (part three)

+ Random and Some bits of Chubby Fem S/O Headcanons with mentions of different nationality S/O

+ What type of BF/GF they would be

Including König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Philip Graves (+ some headcanons including the Shadows), Makarov

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Fem terms and pronouns like she/her are used for the reader

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

My rules for requests and characters I can write for

A/n: I tried so hard to get this one out in time with the other but my other wips are getting to me 😭. I posted twice today just to feed y'all ahaha.

Disclaimers/warnings: Typical Cod things, OOC characters???, Unrealistic, Some suggestive themes and language, I'm so sorry but English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Most of the content I've seen are on TikTok and Tumblr I don't actually play the game but I love the characters so much, same with any other content I have for other video games.

Tiny sidenote: the reader in this has been describe to be shorter than the characters and has been mentioned to have a soft body rather than the muscular type.

König

ꕥ (PLEASE DON'T COME AFTER ME, I DON'T KNOW ANY GERMAN AND I'M USING GOOGLE TRANSLATE)

ꕥ Speaking of König, I don't think this man is the shy boy that some people is making him out to be (not that he doesn't have that side at all, I just feel like they make it his whole personality). Based on voice lines alone this man is cocky asf.

ꕥ There's a reason for his mask, yes he was bullied as a child because of his looks and that's one of the causes to his social anxiety but that doesn't mean this mf is shy. He just like to avoid people and social interactions yk. (Y'all have no idea how much I can relate to this)

ꕥ Has and will continue to use his height to his advantage, someone bothering you while you're both sat having a wonderful time together? This mf stands the fuck up, shoulders back, chest out and everything. Looming over that person while glaring down, arms crossed while they're engulfed by the shadow of this 6'10 behemoth of a man.

ꕥ Chubby!Reader? He'll throw you over his shoulders, only using one arm below your ass while he carries you off. Seriously it is no problem to this man, he'd beg you to sit on his face and suffocate him. If anything I'd say he has a preference for it yk, very soft and plush reader for real.

ꕥ Our DIY king here wearing a shirt for a hood, his hair sticking out of the hole for the head whenever he's dressing casual. Play with his hair like right now, you'll make him melt right then and there.

ꕥ Enjoys cuddling, hasn't had many partners and by that I mean kinda none. Nobody was insane enough to approach him till you came around so he's very touch starved. He didn't even know he enjoyed touching that much till he was able to feel the amount of warmth your body gives him. He'd swear on his life that he was intoxicated in that moment.

ꕥ Whenever you sit or straddle on his lap, he's still so fucking tall. I swear you will gain neck pains if you wanna keep eye contact while talking to him. (I understand the struggle, I am a 5'1 girly. Every character I know within the CoD universe is taller than me 😭)

ꕥ Doesn't actually wear his mask around you, he's comfortable and trust you enough to know you wouldn't go around telling everyone what he looks like.

ꕥ Nicknames he'd call you in German are Mein Schatz, Fräulein, Liebling, Engel and Kleine Maus

ꕥ He's still definitely bitter about not being a sniper. (AHAHAHA)

Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin

ꕥ (IF I'M BEING HONEST, I DID NOT EXPECT HIS VOICE TO BE THAT DEEP. ALSO HIS VOICE LINES IN KOREAN/HANGUL (IDK WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT)

ꕥ He has doodles on his tactical gear that he did himself (there are also one that are a tribute to squid game because man's had a gambling addiction), has asked you to draw on it too and he proudly wears it when on duty. Will feel stupid while unconsciously smiling if you draw a heart.

ꕥ Writing something down on his vest from your own mother tongue and he's asking the meaning, if it's genuinely something good like a compliment or something like "I love you" then you will catch this man with a shit eating grin.

ꕥ He used to be a gambler before entering the military and it eventually got him to stop, though he still has a thing for risk, he got himself a more deadlier alternative.

ꕥ Expect surprise back hugs, this man isn't called Horangi for nothing. He's stealthy, I like to think that whatever he says to you is well thought out as well. Man knows how to think before he speaks.

ꕥ Horangi likes to pounce on things, just for the fun of it. It leads him to tackle you on your shared bed a lot, lots of play fighting too.

ꕥ HAS THE PRETTIEST EYES EVER. Like seriously, the only people who knows what he looks like is you and König. Had gentle eyes, you know that quote "His eyes softened", yeah that's the definition of his eyes.

ꕥ Loves it when you trace the veins on his arms with your finger nails, will just straight up offer his arm to you.

Keegan P. Russ

ꕥ This man and his panty dropping voice like holy hell I have never heard a voice as deep as his without a vocal fry (from those try hard guys on TikTok who try to hard thinking their thirst traps are good).

ꕥ Calls you "kid" in an affectionate way? It's honestly just what he calls anyone younger than him, you're shorter? He'll emphasize on that shit. Elaborating on the nickname I said earlier, he uses it less when y'all are dating but still does on some occasions.

ꕥ Would say the most dirty and uncalled for things, whispering it in your ears. He's and asshole in the best way possible, loves it when you gasp and playfully slap his chest.

ꕥ He's sweet though, would see you as his wife even if you're not married. You're his now, the moment you entered his life, he basically had a death grip on you.

ꕥ Something tells me that he likes talking about you or to you through radios yk. His voice sounding even deeper through the device, calling you doll even though he's supposed to refer to you with your call sign.

ꕥ Praise kink? I mean you've more likely heard his voice lines, is the type of man to praise you and ruffle your hair, either that or he'll kiss you depending on what stage of your relationship you are both in.

ꕥ Constantly thinks his eyes are weird even though they aren't, he just has sleepy eyes. Speaking of sleeping, I feel like he has such a fucked up sleeping schedule and is used to pulling all nighters more than the normal person.

ꕥ Will drag you in bed though and lay his whole weight on top of you because you ain't going nowhere, you are staying there with him and only him.

Philip Graves

ꕥ (If it isn't "Fix It Felix", please tell me I'm not the only one who sees it AHAHAHA)

ꕥ Philip is touchy, somebody for the love of everything that is holy cuddle this man please. He is just screaming at any type of physical contact at this point. (My sources? Right fucking here)

ꕥ Is the type of boyfriend to come home to you and just hug you, y'all would be there for a solid 10 minutes before he lets you go. Burying his head into your neck and just inhaling your scent while having his arms wrapped tightly around you.

ꕥ His Shadows? More like his fucking children, again going back to the TikTok. He knows how to get their attention, the little pats on the shoulder and small praises are his way of saying they did a good job and they're eating it up.

ꕥ That being said, you are either gonna be their mother figure or someone they enjoy protecting because their dad is so fond of you. Why not be both right?

ꕥ You cannot tell me this man won't be next to the grill, spatula, tongs or whatever kitchen utensil in one hand and a cold bottle of beer in the other.

ꕥ Spends his weekends with you on his lap while he watches football in your guys' couch, you're definitely scrolling on your phone during this.

ꕥ You cannot tell me this man doesn't wear cowboy hats and boots because he certainly does, is it a turn on or a turn off? I genuinely do not know..

ꕥ Is fruity on some aspects but would never fucking admit it..

Makarov

ꕥ Y'ALL ACTUALLY THOUGHT I'D WRITE FOR THIS MAN? NAH THIS ACC IS WHOLESOME (OR ANGSTY) AND ION THINK THIS MAN IS SALVAGEABLE. (This came from a girl who once was obsessed with Tom Riddle for years when she was 13, I recovered from it dw)

ꕥ This man would literally use anyone and anything as leverage for whatever he wants to achieve. (Yes I am one of those "I can fix him" people but damn idk if this man is fixable)

ꕥ Please don't tell me you actually genuinely think this man would be good to you.. I knew what I was writing was unrealistic but damn y'all are delulu on another level (so am I, stay delulu). Jokes aside I love y'all and he's one of the few I won't write for. (AHEM Severus Snape (that greasy mop haired mf)

ꕥ And yes I understand most of my shit are kind of OOC but damn if I wrote him, it would be extremely fucking far from canon and I don't like romanticizing toxic relationships (if I ever do write it, it will be angst and I can't ever promise a happy ending).

ꕥ Happy April fool's! (I know I'm posting this end of September (it's actually October now 😭)

[imagineredwood]

Daddy Yandere Chibs with A? Number 3?

I have a HUNGER for Daddy!!!

Summary: Chibs has honored your foolish wishes for a separation for the last month, but you still haven't come to your senses yet, so it's time for Daddy to bring you back home; by any means necessary.

Warnings: ...it's a yandere drabble 🧍🏻‍♀️ So stalking, manipulation, what could be perceived as emotional abuse because of the manipulation. As always, these are just for fun, not to be taken as a healthy or safe relationship. No means no and turning up at someone's work when they don't want you to or anywhere they're at for that matter is creepy af in real life!! Also daddy kink. I wrote it with somewhat of a big age gap in mind but it doesn't have to be read like that 💕

Also just as a reminder, since dark content isn’t for everyone, I don’t use the regular tag lists for these, only specific taglist for those who want to read the darker content. I wouldn’t want to expose someone that didn’t want to read it. So if you DO want to be tagged, let me know

"You shouldn't be here. This is my workplace. I don't have time for this."

Chibs didn't flinch as you rejected him, his stance relaxed as he leaned against the wall of your breakroom. He'd been dying to see you. He'd given you the space you had asked for, knowing that of course that wasn't what you truly wanted. But he'd given it to you anyway. You would see soon enough that being apart from him wasn't actually what you wanted at all. Yet it was going on a month now, and he had decided that enough was enough.

So he'd ridden over to your job to get you back and now here you were, acting as if you were simply too busy to speak to the man who had loved and protected you these last few years.

"Oh course ya do, Lass. You're on break. You've got,"

He made a show of looking down at his watch and calculating.

"Got 24 minutes left of break, I reckon."

You swallowed dryly, realizing that he did have a point. You took your break at the same time every day. You'd used that break to talk to him on the phone most days. Of course, he would remember. So you tried a different tactic.

"How did you even get in here? It's employees only back here."

The Son nodded, eyes warm as they regarded you, a hint of playful ridicule there as well.

"I've lived in this town a long while, love. Longer than you. All I had to do was ask."

He pulled off the wall then, standing at his full height, taking each slow step one at a time.

"Everyone knows me here. Knows us. All that yellin' about me being so controlling, yet you didn't tell your work to keep me out?"

You gulped as he stalked toward you, eyes on you every second.

"Didn't put me on some kinda list? Didn't tell them that if they saw me to call the cops? None of that?"

You stared at him as your heart pounded in your chest. He wouldn't hurt you; never. But you wouldn't put it past him to somehow manipulate you and the situation into ending with you giving him another chance. All if would take is the feeling of his hands, warm and loving as they caressed you, and your resolve would fall apart. And he knew as much.

You took one more step back and bumped against the wall, the giant silver fridge blocking you on one side, and Chibs arm coming up to block the other. You whimpered, willing yourself to be strong as the scent of leather, cologne, and cigarette smoke flooded your senses. It all smelled just exactly as you remembered and you ached for him, the stone you'd fortified around your heart beginning to crumble.

"Even with all the arguments and disagreements, you know you've always been safest with me. Safe, and at home. You've proven your point. It's time for you to come home with Daddy now, yeah?"

You hesitated for a moment before your head was nodding slowly of its own volition. The Son clicked his teeth and offered you a smile then, eyes trailing down your front. He brought a ringed finger up and traced down the valley of your breasts, eyes raking over you how a lion would a gazelle. His voice was low when he spoke again.

"Twenty minutes left."

"Huh?"

The sentence threw you off, your break no longer on your mind as you looked at him.

"You've got twenty minutes left before they start looking for you, so I've got time. You look delicious. I won't stop until I've tasted every bite."

Dark fiction taglist 

@whitetxilwxlf @kikijackson-blog @ben-c-group-therapy @ravennaortiz @mama-mischief

[easy-there-leftovers]

I See You, Darling (4)

[Astarion x reader] A little longer than usual, I hope that’s fine for all of you :,DDD I didn't want to cram too much into the post though, so the segment at the end might be continued in full detail, or maybe not! Let's see.|Word count: 2.9k.|

Content Warnings: Mentions of cooking, handling knives, blood, allusions to sex, a few ooc characters, reader being a dumbass and wahtnot.

Part 3 here!!

Masterlist here!!

A party is being held at the camp in the heroes’ honor, which greets you with a lively crowd that you’ll hopefully meet again soon. And with a gathering this large, you’re bound to garner attention. But with a constitution as poor as yours from the night before, a round of drinks is the last thing you want. 

Alternatively: A bloodless human tries to balance respectfully participating in a drinking party, while also not drinking at all. 

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

The sun rises, the warmth of its rays gently waking you in the absence of the campfire’s flames. The soft chirping of the birds greet you a good morning as your eyes slowly open, ready to greet the day as a new opportunity arises.

Is what would have happened in a more idyllic scenario. Instead, you bolt awake with a pounding headache, worse than any hangover could possibly feel like, and quickly rush to get up. By the sheer brightness of the light that burns your newly opened corneas, it is far later than when you usually wake. And breakfast still hasn’t been made. 

“Well, good morning sleepy head.” One of your companions, Gale, says as he fixes his belongings. Readying himself for the skirmish that was about to take hold later on in the day.

“I’m very  sorry for waking up late. It won’t happen again.” You bow your head low for a moment before he waves you off.

“Oh come now, we all have our off days. Besides, I think the rest would agree with me when I say what you made for us last night was more than enough to last us ‘til morning.” His statement is punctuated by the lively sounds of the others training. Ready and well rested for whatever may come.

You look around. None have seemed to mind your temporary absence, so you endeavor to double check with everyone leaving and ensure that they had a sound strategy with the necessary materials and weapons should there be a need for failsafes. You remind them of certain notes that some of them have informed you about but failed to share with the rest of the group. 

‘While goblins typically go down faster than other opponents, they have no sense of honor nor pride which gives way for them the opportunity to use more underhanded tactics. But they also aren’t very bright, so you can convince the others to let them infiltrate the camp and eradicate them from the inside out.’

As the rest disperse, finalize their plans and check their supplies, your favorite character approaches you much like he usually does every morning. Only this time, you see that he looks very pleased. A more vibrant spark in his eyes as he opens his mouth to speak.

“Thank goodness you’ve finally woken up.” He looks at you, in the same way an old friend of yours would when they’re seconds away from telling a joke. 

The look fades soon enough though as he breathes out. You wonder if it’s because the joke isn't funny anymore, or if he never had a punchline to begin with.

“You looked a little ill last night, but you’ve certainly recovered.” Recovered isn’t the word you would use to describe your current state of feeling almost half dead, but you don’t bother correcting the details.

“And you look particularly vibrant today, Astarion.” The itch of your neck intensifies as you return a pointed look at him as he frowns.

“Oh, of course! Now, don’t be so upset. I will admit that I got a little carried away, I apologize.” He pauses. The frown remains on his face for a while before it is erased with his usual expression of confidence. 

“But let’s not fall out over this.” He moves to stand closer to you, taking your hand to his as he nears it to his lips as he continues. 

“We need each other.” 

And whether its done purposefully or not, you see his fangs peek out from his mouth and a shiver courses through your body.

You slip your hand out of his own in a panic and interject. 

“I know that much already, and I trust you not to let what happened last night happen again. I also apologize for not noticing sooner and dealing with the situation better.” You hold your head down a bit to apologize but quickly meet his gaze gain. “But I do need to know what we’ll have to feed you from now on.”

The look of confusion, and perhaps even shock that was once swimming in his eyes dissipates before you can notice them when he swears upon his resolve. “No innocents, you have my word. After all, you know what I am now. I can fight with all my weapons–” He grins, allowing you a clearer view than what you had earlier. “Teeth included.”

“And if I happen to drain the occasional bandit during a fight, what's the harm? They’re just as dead.” He makes a very compelling argument, at least to your standards.

You sigh, satisfied for now. You’re confident that none of your party members would end up at the mercy of his fangs, and you’re more than sure they would be able to overpower him more than your attempts did. But the same sentiment cannot be shared for possibly important, plot driving, characters that you might meet later on.

So you propose something to strengthen your trust that the unlikely will stay the unlikely.

“Look, I’m–” You breathe in, almost as if you're trying to suck back whatever courage washed over you back in as you steeled yourself for what you were about to say next.

“I’m not against you feeding from me, but!” You punctuate the last syllable as you see his grin growing wider. “We need to discuss things beforehand. No prowling over me while waiting for me to wake up or to sink your teeth into.”

The proposal greatly delights him, as is evident in his response. “Of course! That sounds eminently reasonable. I shall wait patiently until you suggest we… dine together. But until then: no more late-night surprises. You have my word on that.” 

After that, he makes a joke about feeling ‘peckish already,’ and quickly gathers the rest of the party to leave on their adventure.

You promise them a feast when they came back as the victors that they are. What you forgot, after what felt like weeks in the real world, was the crowd that would come filtering in to celebrate their heroes’ achievements as well.

————————————

When you saw the tieflings from the grove traveling alongside your companions, you knew they had come to celebrate. And you blanched at the thought of the provisions they’d be seeking to pair with their drinking. It’s been so long since you went through this event, and you no longer recall if they even ate anything during the party.

You look at your bubbling cauldron–– a bigger one as you had anticipated a few acquaintances accompanying them–– but you wager that at least a little extra things to nibble on won’t hurt to have. You still have quite the amount of camp supplies in the trunk, but you keep it reserved for the camp’s use only. So you smile at your returning comrades and alert the others that stayed behind for your reason to leave and that they can begin eating dinner. 

While others told you it wasn’t necessary, the rest just nodded with a smile and yelled that they’d wait for you to return. You return quite too quickly though, all the while informing them why you’re keeping the communal chest in your tent as you spy the child that tried to steal and swindle the group a few days prior approaching with the rest.

They have a laugh and you quickly proceed with your plan to find at least a few consumable berries and nuts or seeds to accompany the drinks later on. 

But foraging for said consumables near dark is a choice not for the faint-hearted. You came to realize this when you heard the low grumble of a large animal, thankfully far from your form. You turn to look behind you, taking great care to do so as slowly as possible so as to not alert the mysterious creature.

In the clearing, you spot a rather dark looking bear and you feel a cold sweat begin to form on your temple. Hands, growing wet in the dangerous situation you’ve placed yourself in. This wasn’t the same as being drained to death by a vampire, that, you could at least reason with. But a wild animal? With your lack of magical prowess and lesser knowledge of connecting with nature and the wild, you would be finished if it were to follow you.

The small pouch of nuts and wild berries stayed holstered on your waist, but the bear’s eyes that were previously low on the ground are now trained on you. Almost as if it were caught doing something it wasn’t supposed to be. 

You freeze. You forgot what the basic policy was around brown or black bears and therefore couldn’t do much about your current predicament. There shouldn’t be a bear around this area, not unless they had traveled from far away, or that this bear was one of your future companions.

And while the latter isn’t impossible, you most certainly did not want to gamble your life on a possibility. So you tried to compose yourself, returned the gaze of the bear with a shaky and careful nod, and turned back to return to camp. Figuring that the amount of tidbits you gathered would have to suffice.

 When you return, the company you shared seems to be in high spirits. Some more than others. But conversation was plentiful and you smiled as the tieflings cheered for your comrades. You quickly got to work and began to chop the nuts into thinner pieces. Something you learned to make the appearance of something look more abundant than it really is.

While you were chopping away unfortunately, you nick your finger along the way and silently curse. Unfortunate, but not an unforeseeable outcome given the booming drums of the bard that plays oh so nicely with your bloodless state. You quickly, but neatly, arrange the provisions on two small platters, and position them near the larger gatherings. 

“Flitting around like a hummingbird as always, I see.” A familiar, but not immediately recognizable voice greets you as you pass them. You turn and you see an unexpected acquaintance with a bottle in their hand and an incredibly charming grin.

“Dammon! How lucky of me to run into you.” You genuinely were elated to see him. You didn’t see much of him later on in the game, and being able to interact with him beyond the opportunities given to you was certainly nice.

“I could say the same. Though you’re as lively as you usually are.” There’s no malice in his tone, only an innocent observation, yet you feel embarrassed to have been seen scuttling about like a bug.

“I– promise I’m more organized. I just didn’t expect us to be having any guests.” He takes notice of how you push your fingers into your palms repetitively, a small action that soothes you.

“I think you’ve done more than a fine job already. The celebration is for you all, and it was us who planned to come and might’ve put your friends on the spot.” He later takes notice of the cut on your finger as well.

“Speaking of,” He gingerly grasps your hand, looking to you for permission, but you’re too confused to respond with anything he can understand. “Shouldn’t you be taking it easy for the night? You’ve done enough. And if what happened at the grove tells me anything about you, I’m sure they’ll survive even if you settle. Just for a bit.” 

He leads you nearer to the water and produces a small washcloth to clean a bit of your finger as you respond. “The grove? They did that on their own. I just um, take notes.” You sit on a fallen tree, your head still fuzzy, as you observe his crouched form. Inspecting the cut as he cleans it. 

A curious interaction. Not one that you’d expect from an non-romanceable NPC, but an interesting one nonetheless. And it would seem that someone had found it equally as interesting, if the way he scrutinizes you had anything to do about it.

He chuckles in turn. “If modesty is how you like to live, then I won’t impose.” He smiles and gets up as you continue your conversation. You don’t recall if the tiefling has ever had this much screen time, but his voice is rather lovely so you don’t complain about it.

You end up discussing quite a bit, but you focus on what can be done about your party. Specifically Karlach as you worry for the future and you’d like to have answers for her when he isn’t around during your journey. He doesn’t have much idea of what else can be done, but he does mention that he should have something by the time you meet him again in Baldur’s Gate.

You do remember that you might meet him a lot sooner, but you don’t mention it explicitly. You do, however, advise him to be extra careful around the oxen as they can be rather unpredictable this time of year.

As you continue, you notice his eyes flit up every now and then. Like something was catching his attention ever so often. You ask him about it and he actually laughs at your genuine inquiry. “It looks like I was wrong. Your friend there looks like he’d like his turn for your company.”

You turn around and you don’t immediately eye anyone looking in your direction. You were never the subtle type, so you looked around, blatantly searching for someone. It was a bit odd to see.

Your eyes do eventually train on his, but he doesn’t necessarily look like he wants to talk to you. Sure, he’s scowling away, though that’s not out of the ordinary at all. Besides, he has a bottle of something that you hope is helping him relax.

Still, perhaps Dammon saw something you didn’t so you politely thank him for his company and excuse yourself.

You greet the others that regard you as you walk past them. Declining the offers to drink and excusing yourself politely when you were asked to stay a bit. 

As you approach him, a tiefling tries to strike up a conversation with him. With a bored look, he dismisses them and turns to look at you. He takes a sip, sneers, and begins his rant now that you’re situated in front of him.

“I hate it. This is awful.” 

“The…wine?” He looks at you as if he should be mad, but a hint of amusement surfaces past the expression anyway. 

“There’s that, but I’m talking about the tieflings. We killed some goblins to save the others. The tally of lives didn’t change much. But what do I get for my hard work? A pat on the head, and vinegar for wine.” He looks down the neck of the bottle, swirling its contents before handing it out for you to take.

You look at the bottle, then him, warily. Modern alcohol is already a wonder to you, and this medieval mead could only do so much worse. Still, you take the bottle, and take a very small sip.

It’s a heavy, rich, red. Dry and sharp. You make a small sound of shock as you keep the liquid in your mouth. Offering him an awkward smile and a nod as you do.

“Ugh, see what I mean? Awful.” 

“All I want is a little fun. Is that so much to ask?” You would think that after an entire day of fighting whatever was out there he’d be tired. Apparently not. 

You sigh, ready to reprimand him and that he should just enjoy the night, but you stop when you feel his unburdened hand reach out to you. Eyes, boring into your own as he propositions you.

You’re here. Face in the grasp of a character you’ve longed to romance with what little time you’ve had away from your scholarly pursuits. Yet meeting him in strange, yet not all too unfamiliar, territory stirs uncertainty within you. Because while he doesn't have a knife at your throat like he did when your character first met him, it certainly does evoke the same sentiment.

‘To, “make me his”, is that right?’ While the idea is tempting, that statement alone can have various interpretations. And you didn’t want to hedge your bets on the one that made your heart race for all the wrong reasons.

Thankfully, he releases his hold on your visage. Only the gods know how much his touch alone can influence you, and you struggle to stand upright.

“I’m– very,-- truly, sorry, but don’t you think you have the wrong person? I mean,” You gesture to yourself with both hands, a cut visible from the labor in the few hours prior to the large festivities going on.. “Uh…in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly in a position to make any um, lucrative offers.” 

 He looks at you, a familiar expression graces his face. He leans his weight on one leg, and you struggle to recognize what his body language is conveying. This is one of those instances you wished you had the dice roll mechanic of the game at your disposal. 

“Why, that hardly matters, darling. What matters is that you’re here.” He takes a sip from his bottle, the very same that he allowed you to partake from moments prior. Only this time, without the sneer at the aftertaste as he continues.

“But then again, what’s a sinner to do when faced with the very embodiment of chastity?” A smile graces his face, but it’s one that is all too perfect. As if he’s rehearsed the same song and dance enough to save him lifetimes.

“Let’s wait until things quieten down. Once the others are asleep we’ll find each other.” 

You have no idea what to expect. Well, you do, but you’re not very sure if this is necessary. You’ll just have to find a way to continue the story without having to go through with this. For now, at least. 

“We’ll see about that, Astarion.” 

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, @tiannamortis, @aoirohi, @sarkara211, @jane-3043, @h3110-dar1in9, @h3ll0k1ttyl0ver333, @mimziethealien, @squichymochi, @sharabay, @furblrwurblr, @dork-of-the-universe, @thedevilssinner, @fuckalrighty, @queenofthespacesquids, @perseny, @goldenplutus, @h4nluv, @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer, @auszimbo, @maruichio, @iamsexytrash, @craig-mywifeisdead-boone, @grimissleepy, @fandomsfanman, @bitchyzombienacho, @r1kk, @ancuninstar, @izuoyarmin, @gracemisconduct, @kiinokochii, @marina-and-the-memes, and @life-is-hard-m8 for asking to be tagged!!

[pupkashi]

the jjk men flirting

including gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi, itadori yuji, inumaki toge, okkotsu yuta, fushiguro toji

a/n: hi hi ! back after a while with these flirting hcs :] i hope they aren’t too ooc i tried to make them fit but i do not know the first thing about flirting I’m sorry I’m not a player </3

masterlist

— gojo satoru !

everyone says he’s so flirty and so smooth w it and I’m not saying i disagree but i am saying when he realizes he has actual real feelings for someone his rizz goes out the window

he starts second guessing all his pick up lines and all his flirting tactics

does not know how to act around you anymore because you don’t want someone who never takes things seriously so he has to be more serious, right?

where he would usually make a joke he tries to be more serious

when he doesn’t laugh at your “that’s what she said” joke you get a little suspicious, worried that something was wrong with him

gojo only grew more flustered when you looked at him with concerned eyes and voice as sweet as honey

starts to go back to normal when you tell him you miss his usual self, back making jokes and flirty remarks your way

“y/n have you always looked so beautiful during sunset?” “you like coffee? that’s crazy i do too! how about we go on a coffee date”

when you don’t pick up the hint he grows a bit frustrated, trying to hang out with you alone more, his flirty remarks are out the window and he’s just telling you how he feels at that point

“if you wear that outfit again i might just ask you to be mine” “very funny satoru” (he wants to rip his hair out)

— nanami kento !

makes you swoon so fucking easily it’s embarrassing

absolute dream of a man everyone wants him but he wants you so bad he’s running around town finding the best florist to buy you a bouquet of your favorite flowers only to hand them to you later and say “i saw them on my way here so i thought why not”

will start getting you small things, picks you flowers from the side of the road or sidewalk, if you guys walk together he’ll give them to you then and there

constantly compliments you, “you looks so pretty like that,” “your hair looks nice styled this way”

notices small things about you and points them out, knows when you get your eyebrows done or a small haircut

it’s pretty obvious when he flirts because he is just straight up smiling at you calling you pretty and asking you on a date but in the most subtle charming way possible

finds himself staring at you an unhealthy amount of times, finds your mannerisms so heart warming

will pick up your hobbies so you could spend time together or have someone to talk about it to

he’ll offer to cook for you and invites you to his apartment often for any small thing,,, “i lost my tv remote and i can’t find it, do you wanna come help? I’ll buy you dinner”

he is just so fucking charming and such a gentleman because he wants you so bad and he’s determined to win your heart over no matter how long it take

— fushiguro mergumi !

so awkward and endearing it hurts your heart

he’ll scowl less around you, smiling at any small comments you make and occasionally chuckling at your bad jokes

does not know how to approach you at all, he’ll opt to just trying to be around you in hopes of getting you alone to talk to just you and not the others

“so i was thinking maybe we could go eat somewhere, together?” his smile was small and his cheeks were pink as you smiled back at him, “I’d love that!” you replied, about to speak up again but you were interrupted by yuji’s arm wrapping around your shoulder

“we’re gonna go out to eat? I’ll tell kugasaki!” neither of you could stop your pink haired friend before he was off to tell nobara, megumi would frown but you’d nudge him, offering a sympathetic smile and squeezing his arm

will make you a playlist with his music ke ‘songs that remind me of u’ or music he thinks you’d like (makes sure to put a good amount of love songs so that maybe you’d get the hint)

he’ll watch your favorite shows or movies without you knowing so next time you bring it up he can talk to you about it

memorizes all your favorite things you say in passing, when the opportunity arises he’ll make it known that yeah, he remembered what your favorite starburst flavor was and yeah he bought a pack and saved all of your favorites to give to you the next day

will probably harbor a crush for a while before he gives up on his own methods and begrudgingly asks gojo how to flirt

gojo will smile at him, tell him he’s doing fine and send him on his merry way because although megumi doesn’t notice the way you check yourself in your camera when megumi walks over, or the way you giggle at his every word, gojo certainly does

— itadori yuji !

absolute angel of a boy

will do absolutely every cliche thing when he has a crush on someone

buys you lunch, shares headphones with you, walks you home, texts you late at night funny videos or memes, calls you for hours on end, tells you terrible jokes

he’d probably blush a bit anytime you’re sitting next to him because he can almost feel the heat radiating off you and it’s driving him insane

he’ll try his best to flirt but just comes off as a little insane, so he sticks to being himself and hoping making you laugh is enough to win your heart

when he compliments you his cheeks get soooo rosy and he fumbles over his words, sometimes he’ll fidget with his fingers and he just looks so cute how can you not graciously accept the compliment

always includes you in activities even in times where you have no reason to be there

“fushiguro and i were gonna go play some volleyball with the other guys you wanna come?” “i have never touched a volleyball in my life” “great! I’ll save you a spot on the team”

he just wants to spend time with you !! how can you say no to him ?? (his team won solely because his athletic prowess overshadowed your terrible serves)

won’t brush his feelings off, he knows he likes you and he’s not gonna try and hide it (to an extent) especially not when he wants you to know he likes you so that you can make a move if you’re comfortable with it

in the meantime he’ll continue to spend his nights on FaceTime with you, making you giggle, buying you lunch and sharing headphones (wired ones he bought after he ‘lost’ his Bluetooth ones) with you on late night walks together, blushing and grinning when your hands brushed against one another

— inumaki toge !

the fucking cutest little menace

at first is a little shy, grins so much when you talk to him and is always keeping an eye out for you wherever he is

is so so so sweet but also such a little shit about it 😭😭😭😭

the kind to tell you he knows a really nice place where they make you’re favorite meal but the only way he’ll tell you where it’s at is if you go with him

finds anyway possible to make you blush !!!!!!

“i really like your sweater inumaki” “salmon?” you nod with a small smile, there’s a small smirk on his face before he’s taking it off, the white t shirt underneath riding up along with it, his toned abdomen flashing before your eyes and your cheeks are burning

it doesn’t go unnoticed by the cursed speech user, a smirk on his face, he places the sweater if your hand, before promptly signing “it’ll look better on you anyway”

if you keep denying it despite very obviously wanting to take it he’ll lean in a little, press the sweater a little more into your hands and mumble “take the sweater” his eyes glimmering and you can’t even be upset that he used his cursed speech on you

likes being close to you as much as he can, will spend hours on end listening to you talk, pays so much attention to every word that leaves your mouth, he hangs on your every word

he isnt beyond using his cursed speech to get people to move just so he can sit next to you, even his poor yuta isn’t safe from his friend when it comes to you (he’s too enamored by you, can he really be blamed :(()

shows his feelings in every possible way: getting you things you like, spending time with you, enjoying your hobbies/interests, cheesy pickup lines, teasing you relentlessly

the kind of flirt that makes you blush and squeak telling him to stop but you secretly hope he doesn’t because it’s making you fall more and more for him

“toge are wearing shorts underneath your shorts?” “you’re checking me out a little too hard y/n, why are you noticing that” your face would flush as you tried to scramble for an excuse and the sorcerer will only sit back and have a lazy grin on his face

such a menace but he’s sure to balance the teasing out with endless showers of compliments to make you blush and hours on end of time spent together hoping that you’ll fall as hard as he is <3

— okkotsu yuta !

so sweet and shy and has no idea how to flirt so he immediately googles it

reads something about longing stares and thoughtful questions so he rolls with it, locking his phone and walking up to you

“hi y/n” he smiles, you grin back and return the greeting, “are there more doors or wheels in the world?” he looks at you, trying his best to imitate the guy in the picture he saw but is only met with a confused expression on your face, “are you gonna throw up on me or something?”

yuta never trusted google again

sticks to what toge and the others have told him about just being himself and trying to spend time with you

would walk you home or go with you places you didn’t wanna go alone (that’s how he got roped into going to the mall an entire day)

will help you with tasks you struggle with, let’s you know of things he thinks you might like, texts you often and loves to FaceTime you !!!

will absolutely hit you with the “i didn’t really understand this thing, do you think you could help me with it?”

laughs at all your jokes no matter how terrible and blushes when you talk to him

isn’t very straightforward with his flirting, everything is very subtle because he isn’t sure how to approach you about something this serious so he decides to just let you figure it out on your own

will compliment you but not too often because he doesn’t wanna seem weird, tells you he loves being around you and spending time with you

just a shy boy who is so tooth achingly sweet and wants to do his best to flirt and try to gain your affection (spoiler he’s had it since the first day you spoke to each other)

— fushiguro toji !

so crass it almost hurts

doesn’t flirt as much as he just smirks at you says suggestive things accompanied by a wink

“you look great in that dress, can’t help but wonder how it’d look on my floor” your face burns and the intensity of his stare is too much and you can only giggle and look away, toji towers over you and he loves using that to his advantage

will lean against the wall when listening to you talk, his head cocked to the side and a small smile on his face, his arms are crossed and his biceps and slightly flexed

flirting comes very easy to him, and he loves making you blush with the terrible pickup lines that work because of how attractive he is, always smiling when you look down because you can’t bear to look him in the eyes

calls you nicknames like “sweet thing” or “doll face” and he loves how you react each and every time

makes an effort to actually get to know you, asks about what you like and pays attention, bringing it up again after a while

will absolutely try to hide any softness behind his compliments and actions, covering it up with a crude joke or a sexually suggestive comment

will drive you around to wherever it is you wanna go and secretly hopes you’ll ask him to tag along so he can spend time with you (he will never admit to this even if you date)

is more touchy with you when hes flirting, will place a hand on your wait or back when you’re walking together, grabs your hand/wrist to follow him even when there’s not a crowd around

he’s just so hot and sexy he doesn’t really have to flirt let’s be real here yall

[xxlady-lunaxx]

your sanegiyuu posts have inspired me lmao. sanemi tries to ask giyuu out but is stopped/blocked by the kamado siblings who are very protective of their big brother- they hug him to block sanemi's line of sight and demand that they spend time with him haha (and they don't really like sanemi bc of their first meeting). cue sanemi trying to win the kamado siblings over lol. giyuu is ofc oblivious until tanjiro tells him that sanemi likes him. 💜

HELP THIS IS SO REAL 😭 and soso cute<3 oh god have a little of them (and sorry for not posting your other req's yet, they're in my drafts tho i promise) this as a oneshot: here

SaneGiyuu being high ig:

Sanemi's been crushing on Giyuu for a while now and, with Obanai's constant insistence, he decides to ask him out

Tanjiro picking up the heavy sent of macha tea and ohagi before Giyuu realizes that somebody's coming

"Hey, Nezuko- We should go protect Giyuu-san. Shinazugawa-san's coming this way—remember him? He might hurt him 3:>"

Nezuko's obedient nod<3

Giyuu suddenly getting bombarded by Kamado's 🫠

Sanemi coming around the corner and being all "oh shit, not these two again" when he sees the two crowding their big brother

Tanjiro peeking over his shoulder to glare at Sanemi

Giyuu tilting his head, all ?? Shinazugawa??

Nezuko tugging on Giyuu's haori. "mff 3:<< (play!!)"

Giyuu nods, picking her up (Tanjiro simultaneously skirting around so that Sanemi can't get past his blockade)

Sanemi all angy and hating how they're bringing Giyuu away

Him trying to speak like: "Tomioka- Wait- Hey- WAIT- 😭 KAJFNSIAOKM FUCK!!"

Nezuko gasps, grabs the swear jar, and tries pushing Sanemi inside

Giyuu frowning at Sanemi, saying he mustn't swear in front of innocent children

"Innocent?? They're children of the fuckin' devil!!!"

Tanjiro swatting Sanemi away

Giyuu getting protective of his siblings

Nezuko pretending to cry so Giyuu takes the Kamados away and Sanemi's left there..

Later, Sanemi trying a different tactic, bringing some sweets (he refused to sacrifice his ohagi, but he did steal some of the Sakura Mochi that Obanai had bought for Mitsuri) and some random ass stuffed animal

Waving it in Tanjiro and Nezuko's faces when Giyuu's out training

"Take it!! Oh, gods, just take it-"

The two just turning their noses up at him, glaring

He glowers back.

Giyuu coming back and Sanemi instantly trying to play nice guy, not so subtly kicking Nezuko to the side when she tries to grab his leg

"Heyy- Tomioka- Can we talk?? Somewhere priv-AHH"

(Nezuko jumped on Sanemi's back)

Sanemi deciding that he'll just play along and hopefully they'll stop ambushing them

Nezuko piggy-back riding Sanemi, and he's just carrying her around, hoisting her up and turning back to Giyuu trying to be all casual

(Unfortunately, Sanemi nearly won over Nezuko until Tanjiro snatched her back, telling Sanemi that he wasn't needed here)

Giyuu still standing at the doorway: ._.

Tanjiro didn't realize that Giyuu didn't understand yet 😭 But then Giyuu asks why Sanemi seems to be stalking him or something, constantly popping up, and Tanjiro forces himself to explain

Giyuu after he's told that Sanemi has an actual crush on him: 0///0

Tanjiro sighing

He still refused to let Sanemi ask Giyuu out until Sanemi apologized profusely to Nezuko and promised to devote his life to making Giyuu happy

which sanemi did with reluctance because he was done dealing with the kamado's but he didn't really want to drop giyuu-

For a bit into the SaneGiyuu relationship, Tanjiro and Nezuko avoided Sanemi like a plague until he won them over with his old big brother 'Nemi charms

(they're still a bit dubious about him but have warmed up to his presence at least)

(although you can be sure Tanjiro's watching him closely)

this is genuinely what my notes look like when I have something i want to write.. very messy and vague 🦦 (i can write this more properly later iyw, but I'm too tired for that rn (cue the yawns))

[its-avalon-08]

hearts intertwined (hamilton x sister! driver!rosberg) p15

chapter 15: dirty laundry

series masterlist

avaspeaks - im soooooooooooo sorry i havent updated this series in so long. school is a bitch <3 anyway here is pt15!

Y/N marched Lewis, still bewildered by the sudden change of scenery, towards her living room. Before he could protest, she shoved him gently inside and slammed the door shut. The sound echoed in the quiet room, punctuated by the click of the lock.

Lewis turned around, a frown creasing his brow. "Y/N? What's going on?" (oh y/n you little shit!!!)

Just then, the back door opened, and Nico walked in, his face a mixture of surprise and apprehension. His gaze flickered between Y/N, who was leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed, and Lewis, who stood frozen in the middle of the room.

"Nico," Lewis breathed, his voice barely a whisper.

Nico's jaw clenched. "Lewis," he replied curtly, the years of unspoken tension hanging heavy in the air.

Y/N pushed herself off the door frame and walked into the living room, her gaze unwavering.

"You two," she began, her voice firm, "are going to stay here and talk. Until you actually communicate like adults, this room becomes your prison."

Nico scoffed. "Y/N, this is ridiculous."

Y/N ignored him, her focus solely on Lewis. "And you, Lewis," she said, pointing a finger at him, "don't even think about using your charm offensive on me. This isn't about excuses, it's about accountability."

With that, she turned and walked out, leaving the two men staring at each other in stunned silence. The silence stretched, thick and heavy with unspoken emotions. Finally, Nico broke the tension.

"So," he said, his voice laced with bitterness, "here we are. Back under the same roof, forced to face the wreckage of what used to be a friendship."

Lewis let out a shaky breath. "Nico, I…"

The words wouldn't come out. Shame and regret choked him, a bitter taste in his mouth.

Nico wasn't finished. "Don't even try with those empty apologies, Lewis," he spat. "We both know actions speak louder than words. And your actions, for years, spoke volumes."

"Nico, please," Lewis pleaded. "We were both at fault. The pressure, the competition…"

Nico cut him off, his voice rising. "The pressure? Don't you dare try to use that as an excuse! We were brothers, Lewis. Brothers! And all you cared about was proving you were better."

Tears welled up in Lewis's eyes. "It wasn't just about that, Nico. We were both consumed by winning, by proving ourselves."

"But at what cost, Lewis?" Nico roared, his voice cracking with emotion. "At the cost of our friendship? Were those trophies worth the silence, the animosity? Was it worth losing what we had?"

Lewis looked away, unable to meet Nico's heartbroken gaze. The memories flooded back – the sly tactics, the suspicious accusations, the simmering resentment that poisoned their bond. He realized now the magnitude of his actions, the depth of the wound he had inflicted on their friendship.

"No," Lewis whispered, his voice thick with shame. "No, it wasn't worth it."

A sob escaped Nico's lips. He ran a hand through his hair, his face etched with pain. "Then why, Lewis? Why did you let it go that far?"

Lewis looked up, his eyes red-rimmed. "I…" he stammered, struggling for words. "I didn't know how to stop it, Nico. We were caught in a current, and we just kept getting pulled further and further apart."

Silence descended again, this time laden with a heavy sadness. The weight of years of unspoken hurt hung over them, a suffocating cloud threatening to consume them.

Nico paced the room, his voice raw with emotion. "Don't tell me you didn't know," he spat. "We were teammates, Lewis. We were supposed to have each other's backs. Instead, you guarded every strategy like a state secret, second-guessing every move I made."

Lewis flinched at the accusation, his own emotions rising to the surface. "It wasn't just me, Nico! You were the same. Remember Baku? Remember how you…?"

He stopped himself, the memory of the infamous collision still fresh in his mind. Before he could finish his sentence, Nico interjected.

"Baku? Don't even try to play the victim, Lewis! You squeezed me out like a bug, desperate to steal the lead. It was a reckless move, and it almost cost us both the race!"

Their voices rose, accusations flying back and forth like verbal missiles. The years of pent-up frustration and anger finally erupted, a torrent of raw emotion that tore at the fragile truce Y/N had imposed.

"This is pointless!" Lewis shouted, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "We're just rehashing past mistakes. It won't change anything!"

Nico stopped pacing, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and hurt. "Maybe not," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "But maybe acknowledging those mistakes is the first step towards… whatever this is supposed to be."

For a moment, their eyes locked, the intensity of their gazes mirroring the storm raging within them. Then, slowly, the anger began to recede, replaced by a profound sense of exhaustion. Tears welled up in Nico's eyes, spilling over onto his cheeks.

"We were supposed to be more than just teammates, Lewis," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "We were brothers. Remember that day at McLaren, when we promised each other we'd win the championship together? Remember how we celebrated every victory, shared every heartbreak?"

Lewis's own vision blurred. He remembered those days, the camaraderie they once shared, a stark contrast to the animosity that had poisoned their relationship for so long. Shame washed over him, a bitter tide threatening to drown him.

He walked towards Nico, each step heavy with the weight of regret. "Nico, I…" he began, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so sorry. I let the competition, the pressure… I let it all come between us."

Nico didn't move, his gaze fixed on a point on the floor. "And me," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I was so focused on proving myself, on beating you… I forgot what mattered most."

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Tears welled in both their eyes, threatening to spill over. Nico wiped a stray tear angrily, his voice cracking as he spoke.

"Do you remember that summer, Lewis?" he said, his voice barely a whisper. "The one before we started karting? We spent every day glued to each other, building ramps in your backyard, dreaming of becoming the next Schumacher."

A flicker of a smile touched Lewis' lips, a fragile memory surfacing from the depths of their fractured past. "That summer…" he breathed. "We built the most epic ramp ever, convinced it would launch us to the moon."

Nico managed a choked laugh, a hint of warmth returning to his eyes. "We crashed spectacularly, of course. Remember how your dad spent the whole week patching up our cuts and bruises?"

Lewis' smile morphed into a wistful grin. "And Mom scolded us for being reckless, but we were heroes in our own eyes. We were invincible."

The shared memory hung in the air, a bridge between their present and a past filled with innocence and unwavering support. But the bridge was fragile, easily shattered by the harsh realities of their rivalry.

"Then came karting," Nico said, his voice turning bitter again. "The competition, the pressure... it changed everything."

"It did, didn't it?" Lewis replied, a wave of regret washing over him. "We became obsessed with winning, with proving ourselves to everyone, including each other."

Tears streamed down Nico's cheeks now, falling unchecked. "We used to dream together, Lewis. We used to celebrate each other's victories as if they were our own. We were a team, remember? A team fueled by passion, not by a relentless need to dominate."

Lewis watched Nico's silent breakdown with a heart that ached. He took a tentative step forward, his voice thick with emotion. "Nico, I… I miss that. I miss the way things were before."

Nico looked up, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and longing. "Do you, Lewis? Or do you just miss having someone to push you, someone to elevate your game?"

The accusation stung, a harsh reminder of the poisonous competition that had driven a wedge between them. Yet, Lewis knew there was truth in Nico's words.

"Both," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "I miss the competition, yes, but most of all, I miss my friend. The friend who understood me like no one else, the friend who believed in me even when I doubted myself."

A flicker of hope sparked in Nico's eyes. He stepped forward, mirroring Lewis' movement. "There's still a part of me who misses that too, Lewis," he admitted. "But can we rebuild the trust we broke? Can we move forward from the hurt we inflicted on each other?"

Lewis met his gaze, a spark of determination flickering in his own. "I don't know, Nico. But I'm willing to try. We owe it to ourselves, to the memories of who we once were."

The tension in the room began to ease, replaced by a fragile hope. The path to reconciliation might be long and arduous, filled with the ghosts of past mistakes. But for the first time in years, both Lewis and Nico acknowledged the pain, the loss, and the possibility of a future where their bond wasn't defined by rivalry, but by the enduring strength of their shared past.

credits for gif - @lewishamiltongifs

taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 , @xoscar03 , @torossosebs , @jajouska , @lindsayjoy444 , @barcelonaloverf1life , @charli123456789, @heyheyheyggg

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

leave a like! leave a comment! reblogs are appreciated!

[deuxcherise]

The Hare and the Fox

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, yandere male, male!rabbit oc, female!fox reader (doesn't really have to be female, but "daughter" is used here), tsuntsun!reader (just arrogance, honestly speaking), interspecies relations (?), male dumbification, some horror element, a bit suggestive but nothing super explicit.

A/n: So the fox and the hare, tale as old as time. Listen… WE. NEED. MORE. RABBIT BOYS. We’ve got catboys, we’ve got dogboys- WHERE ARE THE BUNNY BOYS?? …And yes, I just really wanted to write about a bunny boy and fox girl. This story wasn’t exactly intended for today but it’s Halloween and it’s been a while since I’ve posted and I wanted to celebrate it with a story with a little horror element, so I might’ve rushed to finish this before today. Also imagine animals here are humanoid with animal elements (like fluffy ears and tail). Enjoy a yan bunny. :3

Masterlist

Once upon a time, there was a hungry, hungry fox who came across a very delectable-looking rabbit.

“Oh hi there! Nice to meet you!” greets the rabbit. “How are you on this fine day?

The fox licks its lips as grumbling sounds can be heard from its belly. It replies, “I’m doing well. Quite… peckish, actually. Little rabbit, little rabbit, how do you do?”

Despite the fox's clearly ravenous intentions displayed on its mannerisms, the rabbit simply smiles brightly in return and answers, “Why thank you for asking! I'm also doing well. Care to join me for a promenade?”

The fox snickers. “Gladly~”

And so the fox and rabbit joined together for a nice walk into the woods…

…..

…..

…..

“You can’t leave me here! You can’t leave me here!” Arley cries,  grasping your hand with a grip unbecoming of a prey to a predator. His golden eyes are big and wide, watery with tears threatening to overflow, and his bunny ears are folded backwards. “(Y/nnnnn).”

As cunning as a fox you can be, you have admittedly fallen prey to this pathetic tactic many a time. This time, however, you simply cannot.

“Please. I haven’t visited my family in the longest time,” you say, attempting to wrench your hand out of his desperate grip. “They must be worried sick about me. You must have f-”

You stop yourself before saying the word “family”, for it would’ve been insensitive. Arley doesn’t care.

He gasps, his cute plump lips making an “o”. “But we’re family!”

You almost facepalm, instead squeezing out the words through gritted teeth, “We’re different.”

“How?”

HOW? A fox and a rabbit. There’s no way, in all the blue above, that two completely different species can be related, dumb bunny. “I’m not even going to answer that.”

He shakes his head aggressively, his long ears flopping from side to side. “No! No no no no! Forget about them! I only have youuuuu!” He sadly looks to the side, ears drooping, as he holds your hand up to his cheek. “Oh, I’ll be so lonely,  so lonely without you…” He suddenly perks up with sparkles in his eyes. “Oh! Can’t I come with you?”

You sigh heavily. “You can’t.”

“What? Why?” He looks up with a look similar to an abandoned wolf pup’s eyes, pouting. “Please please please please please! Did I do something wrong, (Y/n)? I-if I did, please tell me! I’ll be good. I’ll do anything!” he pleads. “Please! Just let me come with you if you must leave! Tell me!”

Do something wrong, you ask? Oh, it’s not that you did anything wrong. It’s that this is all wrong! You are supposed to be digesting away in my stomach since days ago and yet, here you are. And here I am, a fox raising a damn rabbit. Have I lost my mind?

 You press a palm against Arley’s forehead to back him up. “No. Nothing at all, Arley. But I really must be going now.”

He perks up, before you add, “Without you.”

“NOOOOO!” he screeches, as if you have just told him straight up that you’re going to eat him alive.

… Which is going to be true— eventually. But he doesn’t need to know that right now.

You use your free hand to cover one of your ears as the ringing settles. Even with them folded down, his pitch was really too much. If you were also a prey, his voice would have alerted some hungry predator into this part of the woods and slaughtered the both of you. But luckily, who would dare be an idiot and cross into fox territory?

You sigh and flick him on the forehead as punishment, earning a small whine. “Besides,” you confess, “Truth be told, I need space.”

He tilts his head, a confused pout. “Space? You want more territory? I can help you get more territory!”

You mentally sweep away the cartoon image of an armored bunny waving a spear haphazardly. “No. I need space. From you,” you clarify, preparing yourself for his reaction.

As expected, his eyes go wide again and his face becomes unhinged. “B-B-But (Y/n),” his voice cracks. “Space? … Ah! (Y/n) must be joking! A ha ha ha ha…” he laughs before his eyes turn blank and his voice becomes scarily monotone. “It’s not funny.”

“...Um…” What’s wrong with him?

His face returns to its cute self. “Are you sure you can’t bring me along?” he suggests with a hopeful voice. If it weren’t for the rabbit ears and tiny tail attached to him, you would have assumed he was hiding an invisible wolf tail from how his eyes are sparkling.

“No. Absolutely not,” you answer. Unless you want to become the main entree for a skulk of foxes.

His sniffles. “Well, why not?? You're just visiting your family, aren't you? Are you- are you ashamed of me, darling?”

Why is he… You sigh again and look up through the wide clearing of the forest towards the sky. You have absolutely no idea why you’ve kept him around this long. You look at him. He’s pouting at you. You pinch his cheeks, remembering your original reason for keeping him.

When you had found him, he was nothing but a scrawny little thing dilly-dallying around a clearing in the middle of the woods. If you had eaten him as originally planned, he would have been nothing more than a tasty toothpick to suck on and clean the space between your fangs with. So pitiful… too pitiful, actually. Call it sympathy, but it just… it just would’ve been a shame if he died without meeting his full potential. So you decided to name him Arley since it was improper for a sentient creature to not have a name, dumb as rabbits are. A cute name for an admittedly cute pet.

You look at him up and down, gauging his current physical appearance.

You’ve been quite diligent, collecting and feeding him all kinds of fruits and vegetables, and you've even helped him build a proper den near your own place so that he can get all the sleep a rabbit should get. Quite important for growing bodies, wouldn't you say? All to at least allow the poor lad some dignity as a meal fit for an honorable fox such as yourself. And yet, somehow he is still on the skinny side. Pet bunnies are such hassles.

Hah… And they say all foxes are good for nothing but tricks… Hmph!

“Not at all, Arley. I'm not ashamed of you at all. Like I said, it's just too dangerous for you.”

Arley puffs up his cheeks, giving you his biggest pout before giving up when you wouldn't budge. He finally releases you, but not before he gives you the biggest hug he can muster. “Fiiiine. I hope you have fun, darling. I’ll be waiting for you…”

Darling.

For some reason, he believes that to be your name. You have tried correcting him, but he insists on calling you that for some reason. Oh well, rabbits are quite dumb after all. No use trying so hard to educate your future meal.

And so the two of you parted ways, leaving him at his den before you rushed off to your family’s den. By the time you reached it, the sky was turning purple as the great light was setting.

You knock with a special jingle on the wooden door to your family's den, a place somewhere secluded in the great forest, where the nearest neighbor would probably be… well, you and your dear rabbit, Arley. A lone rabbit. Odd, but you figure Arley must've been abandoned for being a runt. Poor lad.

“Password~?” sings a young voice from behind the door.

You playfully roll your eyes. “The brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.”

One of your younger sisters opens it and her face glows up at the sight of you. “(Y/n)!” She turns around to go back to main, shouting, “(Y/n)’s here! And she brought a boy!”

….. 

Huh?

Two arms snake their way around your waist and close the distance between your back and their front. With a distinctively delicious scent wafting about, you don't even need to turn around entirely as you cringe from how he's nuzzling the back of your neck.

“Arley!?” you harshly whisper underneath your breath. 

“Darling~” he whispers back, muffled by your neck.

“A boy!? You've finally brought home a husband, (Y/n)?” shouts your mother from inside the den.

“No!” you screech back, grabbing onto Arley's arms. You whisper between gritted teeth, “What are you doing here? Don't you know it's dangerous!?”

He shoots back with a sad look with droopy ears and big doe eyes. “Don't you know rabbits die easily from loneliness? I couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving me…”

What? What the heck is this dummy saying? Is that true? If it is true, does that even apply to rabbits and foxes? Rabbits shouldn't be sticking to foxes like this! Do you want to be eaten that badly!?

“Don't you-”

“What are you standing at the doorway for?” the voice of your father cuts in. “Come in and introduce your boy to us! And bring that rabbit. I can smell it on you. Don't hold up, now. We're starving.”

“You see?” you whisper to Arley, worried. “We're foxes. They're going to eat you alive! Go home!”

“No!” he refuses. “And no, they won’t. Once they know we’re together, they won’t lay a paw on me. Besides, I want to— need to meet your family for once. I have to thank your parents for giving birth to you and raising such a wonderful daughter.”

You try to find the words but after a moment or two, you give up with a groan. You place your hands together and send a quick prayer to the heavens.

Dear sun and moon, our great light and protector. I don't know why I'm in this situation but I humbly request that you protect this dumbass from my family. I've worked way too hard and too long for all my efforts to go up in dust just because he is an extremely stupid rabbit. We'll just have dinner (without rabbit) and then sleep, and then leave tomorrow. Forgive his naivety and lend me strength, good heavens. Blessed be the skies.

“Okay. Here we go.”

-----🐰🦊-----

“WHOA!” “My goodness!” “AMAZING!”

You sit there in awe alongside your family members as Arley somehow pulls another palm-sized rabbit from his top hat.

“And finally, this one is for the pup over here,” he says as he hands over the rabbit to your youngest sibling, who playfully squishes it in his hands. Not enough to burst its insides, but enough to make you wonder if it’s uncomfortable for the tiny bunny. Its blank face doesn’t offer any commentary, which almost begs the question if it is any real in the first place, if not for the tiny twitches.

“And that’s all for tonight, folks!”

“Well done, my boy!” your father compliments, clapping heartedly. “I never thought I could ever be entertained by a rabbit, but here I am!”

“Indeed!” your mother agrees, hand placed on her chest delicately. “I don’t know when was the last time I’ve ever been to a Magic Rabbit Show.”

Magic Rabbit Show? That’s a thing? Since when was that a thing???

Arley bows before your family, spinning his wrist, making the hat disappear into thin air. He then clasps his hands together, ears perked up. “My pleasure! Now… might I make the request to stay over tonight? I feel I will have better odds of seeing the great light if I stay inside than outside. And I’d like to stay close to Miss (Y/n), if possible?”

What the? Miss (Y/n)? Since when have you ever called me ‘Miss’? Or ‘(Y/n)’? You knew my name this entire time??

Your parents suspiciously share a look before smiling at Arley and announcing that he shall be taking residence in your bedroom for the night.

“Why!?” you squeak.

Your mother pulls you aside and shushes you. “Make sure the lad is comfortable, do you hear me? He’s come a long way, and we do not want to hear any complaints. Do you understand?”

“‘Come a long way’, you say, Mother? HE’S. A. RABBIT! FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, HE’S SUPPOSED TO BE A MEAL, WOMAN!” is what you would have said if one, you didn’t respect your parents, and two, Arley wasn’t right there, and three, you weren’t afraid of the woman who brought you into this world and could easily send you back at any time.

Instead, you give her a face of disbelief.

It is odd, you note, considering the behavior of your parents. Your father had always liked chasing the birds up into the trees, and your mother often enjoyed a bit of mischief showcasing her toothy smiles in front of the occasional passing travelers, who tended to be grazers. To show such consideration to a rabbit is… frankly, very odd.

“Besides,” your mother continues, eyes watching your siblings play with their respective rabbit and your father bringing Arley to the side to have a chat. “I don’t think there’s any finer rabbit to… well, you know?”

Your eyebrows raise as far up your forehead as they can go. Arley may still be a bit on the small side compared to the typical size of rabbits based on what the books say, but he is decent enough. Maybe it’s about time you put an end to this ridiculous farce…

Your mother raises her eyebrows. You relax your shoulders and sigh, nodding in surrender. She smiles in triumph behind you as you lead Arley towards your old bedroom.

Seldom do foxes receive guests, lest they set up a bed and breakfast kind of establishment for whatever reason. But even so, in these parts of the woods, travelers tend to not stay too long, either here or alive, so to speak.

The minute you swing open the door, you half expect dust to come flying out. Only the smell of nice wood, fresh grass, and well-kept books fill your nose, a testament to your father’s impeccable housekeeping skills.

You eye your large nest, with enough space for a couple and a child (which you had given up hoarding your favorite sticks in order to fit this bedding), and take a step back before lau-

“W-wow… This is a… big bed. I didn’t think…”

You immediately stop yourself from belly flopping into the inviting bed. Your head swerves towards Arley, who’s eying your bed with bulging eyes.

What? Never seen a big- Oh course he hasn’t seen a big bed, ya doofus. Tiny rabbit only got a tiny bed. “Let’s sleep,” you mutter, feeling the drowsy effects of full home-cooked dinner in your stomach. Forget dessert, I’ll just eat him for breakfast.

You crawl onto the soft grass and lay on your side, patting the empty space beside you.

Strangely, Arley looks quite flustered. “E-eh? You’re- I’m- H-huh?”

You let your heavy eyes close, eyebrows furrowing, getting miffed. “What? You wanted to stay over, right? Come over here already… Schleep…”

“O-oh… okay…”

And so the two of you lay side-by-side, warm and cuddly, nothing to be frightened about. Twas a peaceful midnight, all through the house. Not a creature was stirring, not even a…

“Y/nnnnn~? Are you awake?”

There is the famous saying everyone who’s anyone knows: how a wolf can hide itself among a flock of sheep by dressing up as its prey. It’s a funny tale, showcasing the stupidity of sheep against the cunningness of a wolf. How does it relate to a fox and rabbit, one might ask?

Your eyes open, having been suddenly thrown out of a dreamless sleep and brought back to reality. As they adjust to the darkness, they meet golden eyes followed by a wicked, wicked smile full of razor sharp teeth.

There may not be any wolves or sheep here… but perhaps, a less arrogant and less hungry creature might have wondered what a little rabbit was doing out in the woods by itself? Come to think of it, why would a rabbit invite a clearly hungry fox for a walk all by itself in the middle of the woods?

“Darrrrlinnnng~”

As the adrenaline pumps through your veins, you finally smell the scent of blood. It’s heavy. Far too close and heavy to be a mere cut. And… familiar? “A-Arley, is that you? W-what-”

He tilts his head mockingly, eyes and smile widening more than they already are. “Yes, darlinnnnng~ So glaaaaad you still… recognizzzzze Arleyyyyy after… well, nowwwww isn’t the tiiiiime.”

You gasp, feeling four spindly things drag upwards against the flesh of your stomach. You quickly wrap around your fingers the culprit before shoving it away and shooching your body up your bed. Only then, do your eyes feast on something horrid.

Arley- If it is Arley at all- tilts his head the other way stiltedly, his neck cracking with every angle. He towers over you with the height of a bear. The skin on his face looks stretched across his abnormally large skull, almost tearing at the seams of his mouth and eyes and nose. The ears on his head are stiffly standing above his head, shaped more triangularly than his typical round ones. Accompanying them are two massive antlers, ending in serrated stake-like ends. Where his eyes should have been are now dark black pools with little gold rings floating in them. The clothes on his body have shredded apart, revealing long skinless, muscleness limbs ending in similarly long claws sharper than the thorns of wild roses.

“Daaaaarling~ Why do youuuu look soooo scared?” he says, softly caressing one side of your jaw with a claw. His voice sounds like disjointed souls fighting to speak at the same time.

The smell of blood nearly overpowers the sound of your racing heart. “W-why do you s-smell like blood?”

“Hmm~ Arleyyyyy…” he hums, without opening his mouth, “... had to eaaaaat.”

“O-oh?”

“Don’t worryyyyy, darlinnnng. Arleyyyyy wouldn’t dare… eat youuuuu. Not… yeeeeet.”

A million things can enter your mind right now, things concerning your own safety and what happened to Arley and what could possibly go on, but the one thing that grips your heart is the thought: with all of this blood on him, where is your family?

“A-Arley… “ you smile nervously, gulping down your nerves as you slowly shift to the side at a snail’s pace. “I… Can I go… use… the bathroom?”

He sees what you are attempting to do and does not like it at all. He slams a hand down on the nest, tossing a few grass upwards, barely missing your hand. You breathe in sharply as he lowers his face over your shoulder, his chest rumbling as he takes in your scent.

“No… Stayyyyy.” Gentle, gentle is his voice, and yet it does nothing more than make the hair of your skin continue to stand straight up.

Arley’s just a rabbit. Arley’s just a rabbit. Arley’s just a rabbit. A dumb fucking rabbit.

Gathering all of your wits, you bark, “N-No! You! Let me go! I. Need to— GET OUT!”

Without a second thought, you quickly toss your body out of your nest and onto the cold wooden floor, paying no mind to your bruised knees as you get back up on your feet. You rip open your bedroom door to run down the hallway. It’s so dark you drag your hands across the walls to feel your way to the front, but it’s not dark enough to hide the dark inky stains dripping down the walls, staining your palms. It smells of death, rot, and everything and anything disgusting. Any more time in here, and you are sure you’d throw up.

An ungodly roar booms behind you. Right as your hand grasps onto a door handle, a hand wraps around on your legs and hauls you backwards, forcing your chin to hit the ground. Before you can recover from the impact, you feel the air around your head turn warm and in the edges of your view are rows of sharp white teeth.

“A-”

CRUNCH.

.

The end.

.

Little rabbit, little rabbit, how do you do?

Keep to the light, or the dark hunts you.

Wander too far, stray from its view—

And in the night, it will come for you.

.

.

.

.

.

You wake up and gasp for air, dripping horrendously with heavy beads of sweat. You’re laid on your side, the opposite side of the original position you had laid down in before you knocked out. Which means you’re facing away from–

“Ack!”

Upon registering a sharp pain on the back of your neck, you immediately whip the back of your hand behind you, making contact with something hard. You turn on a lamp light and whirl around to find Arley holding his nose, regular bunny-shaped and looking like himself, and absolutely nothing like that nightmarish creature.

“Owiiiie…” he whines. Tears gather on the edges of his eyes, which thankfully look normal as well with their white scleras.

Picking up a faint scent of blood and a moist feeling on the back of your neck, you gently feel the area, finding that Arley has in fact broken a bit of skin enough to produce red droplets. “Did you bite me? Why’d you bite me!?”

“Sowiiiie, dawwwing… Couldn’t help it…”

A bunny biting a fox for no reason? How insulting! What does this dumb rabbit take me for!?

You grit your teeth, still holding a grudge for Nightmare!Arley’s actions, as you wipe your blood-stained fingers on your bed clothes before grabbing onto Arley’s jaw and forcing his mouth open. You then stick two clean fingers between his lips to keep his mouth open and check out his teeth. All flat bunny teeth, nothing sharp at all. How did he manage to make you bleed? You groan and let him go, grumbling,  “I should’ve eaten a long time ago…”

Shocked at your actions, Arley’s mouth is still slightly agape and his cute pink bunny tongue still tantalizing. The taste of your fingers are nothing to the taste of your blood, but strange thoughts that have been sealed away time and time again are now coming to the front, and it certainly doesn’t help that he’s in an enclosed room that smells entirely like you and him.

You almost tell him to close his mouth when he interrupts you. “I… I wouldn’t mind if you ate me right now, darling.” He tilts his head downward and looks up with fluttering eyes, tapping the tips of his fingers together bashfully . “Only if darling is gentle in the beginning though…”

What the hell is he talking about? “Stupid,” you mutter. “Don’t be so weird.”

For some strange reason, his ears flops down and he gives his biggest pout as he looks away with scrunched eyebrows. You nearly roll your eyes, instead patting his head, hoping this action that he typically asks for will lessen his sad mood. It does, making him close his eyes and cheeks puff up with a blissful smile.

The way he melts under your touch softens your annoyance, making you appreciate the fact that he’s just a dumb rabbit who doesn’t know he’ll be eaten soon. You close your eyes and breathe yet another sigh of relief. At least, he isn’t like that creature at all. It was just a nightmare, nothing more… right?

…..

“Darling is mine~” Arley hums to himself under your petting while your eyes are wincing from the pain on the back of your neck. He looks at you through the tiniest inconspicuous sliver of space between his eyelids, showcasing black scleras and glowing golden rings. “All mine~”