#frailing: this action is ooc

[ebbpettier]

"baz would bottle simon's sweat and wear it like cologne' neither canon nor true, perhaps. a more accurate statement: under the correct circumstances (pickled in yearnings the likes of which no mere mortal has ever achieved before) i think baz COULD bottle simon's sweat and wear it like cologne'

[yandere-3-sagau]

Yandere!SAGAU x Secret!Creator!Reader Pt 2

Short Summary: Zhongli knows that it’s you and he can’t wait to meet you as the first one to recognize the creator and officially welcome you. (sorry there’s no intense chase yet, sort of a filler chapter)

characters: Childe, Zhongli

warning(s): ooc characters, lowkey degenerate behavior from Zhongli

word count: 1551

Previous | Next

─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *.☽ .* : ✧.───

You manage to get home without any interruptions. Grandpa Fuyi, the farmer that took you in, noticed your heavy breathing.

He sat up in his chair, grabbing his cane. Wiping the sweat from your face, you urged him to stay seated.

“I’m alright! I just… saw a few hilichurls on my way back and got scared.”

His grey brows furrowed. “Thank archons you’re alright. It’s dangerous for you to be traveling alone. Why don’t you take a break from selling?”

“About that… I’ve been thinking of traveling.”

Grandpa Fuyi was silent for a bit.

“Did you remember your real family?”

When you had first arrived, you knew it was impossible to tell him that you’re from another world. Instead, you told him that you’re lost and have no recollection of your past.

“I knew you’d eventually want to return to your life before, but I didn’t think it’d be this soon.” He sighed shakily.

“No! That’s not it…”

Your heart breaks seeing the frail man. You can’t possibly leave him alone. But you are scared. You aren’t sure if the geo archon would come searching for you and you don’t want to involve the one person to give you shelter. You think about what your next set of actions are when Grandpa Fuyi speaks after a long strip of silence.

“Will you let me come with you?”

You are frozen in shock. He sees your reaction and continues speaking.

“I know I’m old and it’ll be difficult to travel with me, but I’ve always dreamed of visiting other nations before I pass…”

You pause, weighing out the options in your mind.

“Are you sure?” you ask. “It may be dangerous…”

“I’m sure. As long as you’re okay with it, I’d like to travel the world with you.”

He gives you a smile with such kind eyes that you can’t help but tear up as you hug him tightly. How can you abandon the one person to help you in this unfamiliar world?

The two of you prepare, quite quickly, to leave Liyue. Using your knowledge from your previous world, you create a collapsible wheelchair for Grandpa Fuyi that would make it easy to travel in. The money you made from selling your miracle vegetables is enough for the two of you to travel comfortably and is enough to last a lifetime. With your bags packed and an optimistic smile on your face, the two of you set out to head to your next destination, the land of eternity… Inazuma.

—

Early the next day, before the sun has even risen, Zhongli returns to the stall and sees that it’s not yet open and that the person he has been thinking of all night is no where to be seen.

Feeling that it is quite early, he decides to wait for you to come. He waits until the sun is high in the sky. Then he waits till the sky is purple. Despite standing for a whole day, Zhongli doesn’t move an inch from his spot.

He has to confirm it.

Even with this thought in mind, he knows deep in his heart that it it’s you. He knows that the creator has descended. Zhongli can feel it in his gut and with every fiber of his being. You’re here.

Zhongli waits for days in the same spot, neither eating nor drinking. Passersby’s stare at him as if he’s crazy and some even offer food. Zhongli refuses them all, only one thought in mind.

Creator, creator, creator… where are you?

—

It’s been a while since Childe visited Liyue other than short business trips and missions for the Fatui.

Childe is heading towards Northland Bank when he sees Zhongli, standing as still as a statue next to an empty stall.

He decides to greet him, walking over to the former geo archon.

“What are you up to?” He asks him, seeing the serious expression on his face.

“I’m waiting for someone.” Zhongli’s answers are brief, nothing but determination in his eyes.

Around him, Childe can hear the whispers of the people who pass by.

“That man is still standing there…”

“How many days has it been?”

“Is he even human?”

Childe’s eyes narrow.

What’s so important about this stall that the Geo Archon himself waits days on end for?

His eyes examine the stall closely. Nothing special stands out. However, as he is examining it, he sees a small white handkerchief poking out from behind the stall on the opposite side of where Zhongli is standing.

“Who are you waiting for?” Childe asks as he casually walks over to the handkerchief. “They must be very important for you to be waiting this long.”

Zhongli doesn’t spare him a glance. “A vegetable merchant,” he says simply. Childe rolls his eyes, discreetly picking up the handkerchief and shoving it into his pocket.

“Wow, how informative,” he says sarcastically. “Well I hate to be the one to break it to you, but if you’ve been waiting here for this long, chances are whoever you’re waiting for is long gone.”

Hearing this, Zhongli finally moves. The former geo archon was so absorbed in thoughts about what he’d say and how he’d react when he finally meets the creator that he didn’t realize how long he has actually been waiting.

“You’re right.” Zhongli wastes no more time waiting and leaves to search for them.

“Nice… just leave me hanging, no problem. I’ve been good by the way, thanks for asking!” Childe calls out to him.

As Zhongli walks to each nearby stall, asking for information about the vegetable merchant, Childe pulls out the handkerchief from his pocket.

His eyes scan over it, noticing smears of gold staining the white cloth.

Paint?

His thumb rubs over the smear, noticing that it’s a different texture than the usual paint used in Liyue.

Childe lifts the cloth to his face, taking in a deep whiff. As someone who survived the abyss and the youngest Fatui Harbringer, Childe’s senses are not to be messed with. Though it’s been days, there’s a small scent that anyone else would not have been able to recognize… but Childe, someone who has experienced his fair share of fights, is able to recognize it instantly.

… blood.

The puzzle pieces in his head click together so fast that he’s barely able to react. Childe stares at the cloth as if it’s the most special and rare artifact in all of the land of Teyvat.

A handkerchief with golden blood and the oldest archon guarding a shabby vegetable stall. Childe knows that this could only mean one thing.

The creator has descended.

With his heart beating faster than ever, Childe quickly leaves. He has to let the Tsarista know before Zhongli can find them. Childe smiles giddily, excitement filling his body.

—

After following the directions given to him by the townspeople, Zhongli finds himself in front of the small house you lived in with Grandpa Fuyi.

The wooden boards creak as he steps on the porch. Zhongli cringes, seeing the decrepit state of the small home.

Is this where their beloved creator has been staying?

Zhongli sighs. He will be sure to build you a grand palace for you to live in once he finally meets you.

He lightly knocks on the door with anticipation. A few seconds pass with no response. He knocks a bit harder and waits. After a few minutes pass of complete silence, Zhongli lets himself in.

He walks around the small home, examining it closely. Other than a small living area and kitchen, there are two small rooms. The first room he enters is lightly decorated with a few antiques littered here and there.

Were they living with someone? Zhongli asks in his head…a bit of jealousy shakes his heart. How lucky they must be to have lived with the creator…

The next room he enters is almost completely bare other than a small bed in the corner of the room. Zhongli knows immediately in his heart that it’s your’s.

The creator’s room…

Closing his eyes, he takes in a deep breath, almost as if he’s basking in your presence. It’s like he can feel you…

Zhongli walks over to the bed, sitting on top of it. His hands caress the sheets, feeling the slight roughness of the cloth beneath his fingertips.

This is where the creator slept…

He lifts the blanket up, burying his face into the cloth and breathing in deeply with the nose of a dragon. He can smell you… he pulls away after a few seconds, feeling a bit dizzy.

From what he can tell, it hasn’t been that long since you’ve left. You must be close, he thinks. He smiles with eyes filled of devotion and exhilaration.

It won’t be long before you meet, Zhongli thinks. He awaits the day he is able to kneel before your feet and officially welcome you to the land of Teyvat.

Zhongli finally leaves the small house to follow your trail before it fades. He decides not to tell a soul of his discovery, thinking that it’d be best not to release the news so as to not spark any chaos.

… but in truth… Zhongli wants to be the first one to find you. The first to welcome you and become your most trusted acolyte.

Previous | Next

(sorry guys, i know a lot of you were expecting something big. Honestly, i had no plans to continue this but i randomly had a thought about it and decided to write this. I’ve been so busy and stressed with school so it’s been a while since I’ve had time to write anything. It’s a bit plain but I hope you guys like it! Next chapter will be more intense…probably…hopefully…)

taglist:

@allblognamesaretakenlikereally @kokxm1 @leafinapuddle @probablynoposts @tonightwrites @tiffthescales @dakotali @xxxastridexxx @sparklyphantom @ursinaw @d0rmiens-fact0rem @iruiji @turningmad @moonlilliesinthegarden @java-lava @chihawari @yanderesarentagoodidea @5-stirling-heartstrings @smokey-cat @raingoesboomboom @cheritastic @rugiebugie @thelocal-idiot @minteasketches @pwisoned @blueberryhitosh1 @eliaspspspsp @extremelytoastybread @angelkazusstuff @whinnywhale @thedevioussmirk @ravenswife @goldenglow149 @a-person-with-many-likes @noisychildnut

[apollodarling-writes]

yan! catboy! worshipper! levi

desc : you picked up a stray catboy from the alleyway and you find that maybe he has more problems than you’re equipped to deal with.

word count : 812

cws : yandere themes, scenting, jealous levi, dubcon implications, smut implications, murder mentions but it’s levi killing his competition and bringing it back as a gift and to prove he’s better than them, slight delusional thinking, desperate clingy bf behavior but you’re not dating and he’s more of an estranged roommate, MASSIVE personality switch up, ooc levi but i genuinely wanna see this man desperate and begging, implied dissociation, this is kind of bad im ngl.

author note : someone requested this, sorry it took so long to get to it. also, here’s a little something i had in my drafts while i finish editing this commission.

you remember how pitiful levi had looked in that alleyway — his clothes torn and too big on his seemingly frail body. he was drenched from the rain, the mud that had been caked onto him softening as shivers wracked his body. the bags under his eyes were heavy and dark, and you’d noticed that he was bleeding… and badly.

you remember the way his ears perked up, his gaze sharpening as he regarded you with a mixture of apathy and contempt; the way his pupils had narrowed into slits and his tail swished in warning. he’d attacked you that night, the wound on your hip later scarring. the levi from that night was so similar, yet so different from the man in front of you.

you were frozen in place, your eyes darting between levi and the corpse he had haphazardly discarded onto your living room floor. his face was marred with blood, a subtle look in his eyes that screamed pride. it didn’t feel real — there was no way this was happening. not to you of all people.

“what the fuck—“ you gesture to the body, your eyes filling with tears. “— is this?

“what’s wrong? don’t you like it?” levi asks, his expression morphing into concern the moment he recognized your appall.

was he serious?

“levi, you killed someone and brought them back to my apartment!” you exclaim, feeling bile rise in the back of your throat as you tear your gaze away from the corpse. “my home has become a fucking crime scene!”

levi’s brows furrow, his ears flattening at your words. seeing him clench his fist, you instinctively take a step back — a feeble attempt to put distance between the two of you. he doesn’t like that.

levi knows he’d be able to catch you if you decided to run, but he wanted you to stay — willingly. he didn’t want to have to force you, knowing that would only put a strain on your relationship. sure, he was biologically much faster than the average human, but he didn’t want to have to resort to using his anatomy to his advantage again.

he doesn’t regret killing any of them — especially not this one. this man was weaker than all of the others, obviously incapable of taking care of you properly. how was that human boy supposed to provide for you? protect you?

“that just shows im better for you, doesn’t it? if they can be taken out so easily, they couldn’t protect you. not like i can.” levi hisses, his features tightening with frustration. “i did you a favor. they would’ve gotten you hurt.”

his tone takes on a more desperate edge as he scrambles to justify his actions, his hand latching onto your shirt in an attempt to keep you in place.

“why are you looking at me like that…? like i’m some kind of monster? i’m not — i did this for you! for us!” levi shouts.

you can’t bring yourself to say anything, your mind spinning as you try to wrap your head around everything. levi had never been like this before; he’d always been distant and put-together, keeping you at an arm's length no matter how hard you tried to grow closer with him.

“say something… please.” the man begs, his arms snaking around your waist as he buries his face in the curve of your throat. levi takes a shaky inhale, your scent doing little to calm his racing heart. usually, it worked like a charm, but the cortisol radiating off of you worried him.

“let go of me, levi.” you mumble, your shaking fingers pushing at his shoulders. he only sniffles in response, his tail curling around your thigh.

“please — please don’t push me away.” levi pleads, his voice cracking. “i—i need you! i’ll die without you! please don’t do this to me…!”

“get out.”

levi’s hold on you tightens, his touch slowly becoming painful. despite your squirming and growing fear, levi only pulls you closer, peppering kisses along your throat and shoulders, mumbling apologies and promising to never do it again. yet, despite the ache in your chest, you stand firm in your decision.

“leave.”

levi’s body goes rigid, his fingers gripping your waist harshly as his voice grows quiet. “we can do this the hard way or the easy way — your choice... but, you’re staying with me whether you want to or not.”

levi takes your silence as an agreement, lapping at and kissing the focal points of your pheromones to mask your scent with his own. “‘m gonna make sure everyone knows you’re mine.” he breathes, a quiet groan leaving his lips.

his movements become more frantic, nipping at your skin in between planting open mouthed kisses against any visible flesh. “i’ll fuck you until the only thing you can remember is my name — until the only scent on you is mine.”

[forggywrites]

I been thinking about make this request,basically platonic headcanons of Miguel with a gn reader that is very young(14-15) and have a symbiote, reader meets miguel due to him as spiderman rescues reader from some bastards that were experimenting with reader for the perfect symbiosis they had, the reader is very skinny and easily scared and the symbiote is very protective over reader, miguel is also very protective over reader and theach them how to control their power,basically miguel being a mentor/father figure for the reader Who admires him and want to protect the multiverse like him(like a sidekick).

If this is so Long youre Free to ignore

I LOVE this idea!

PLATONIC Miguel x GN teen reader w/venom symbiote.

I’m trying to make this as general as possible so anyone can read it, but sorry if I make any mistakes.

CW: use of y/n, Miguel might be slightly ooc, talk of human experimentation, kidnapping, abuse, violence, medical settings, venom needs his own warning.

—————————

It was cold.

So fucking cold.

The only color on your skin was dark blotches from struggling against your captors.

You were unsure of how long you’ve been locked in this dank room.

You had barely eaten or drank anything since ending up here, so you were multiple pounds lighter than you normally were.

Your muscles had lost a significant amount of definition from only moving when they moved you.

You didn’t know who they were or what they wanted, but you did gather they didn’t target you specifically.

The experiments were painful.

No matter how much you screamed or cried they never stopped.

After one of the first experiments you started hearing a voice.

The voice was deep and grainy, it told you that it was known as Venom and it came from space.

”These people took me as well… I can help you escape.”

You had ignored the voice, telling yourself it was just the trauma and isolation.

Until a particularly painful test.

Your entire body felt like it was burning, your screams were deafening.

Suddenly the restraints that held you down snapped, and you felt something ooze all over your body.

You were unable to control your actions. The lab was destroyed and your captors were all dead. Heads had been ripped off and digested by the thing controlling your body.

You watched as your much taller body escaped from the hellhole you had been kept in.

As soon as you got out the black goo dissipated, leaving your much smaller, frail body in its wake.

”You’re welcome” the voice rasped.

Your legs started to move, you ran as far and fast as you could, tears streamed down your face as you were finally free.

Before you knew it, you had ended up in a crowded city. You were unaware your tattered clothes were covered in blood.

Your tired feet tracked down the sidewalk, many avoided you, uncaring of your beaten and bloody form.

”Hey, kid-“ a hand landed on your shoulder.

Venom did not like that.

Suddenly your body was taken over once again, wreaking havoc on anything and everything.

People screamed as your monstrous form throws a tantrum.

Then you hear a thwip and your once again muscular arm gets pulled.

A man in a dark blue and red suit starts to face off with you.

His attacks were deliberate and calculated, quickly taking your exhausted form down.

You feel your head smash against the concrete and loose consciousness once more

—————————

There you were, in another lonely room. Trapped yet again.

But this time it was warmer, you were lying in a comfortable bed with tubes and wires running from your body to various machines.

The high pitched beeping was annoying you, so off came the wires as you tried to stop the noise.

But it only got worse.

A high pitched scream came out of the machine next to you, your body felt like it was on fire once again. You covered your ears as you screamed in pain.

With the noise a group of doctors and the man from before rushed into the room, attempting to reattach the monitors and calm you down.

Your arm reached out, wrapped in the familiar black goo, and shattered the machine. Stopping the noise and actions of the oddly dressed people in the room.

Venom’s goo retreated back into you, soaking back into your skin.

Everyone in the room was frozen. Not knowing what to do or how to respond to the outburst.

”Where am I?” You rasped out, your throat was dry and scratchy from dehydration and screaming.

One of the people left the room and quickly returned with a bottle of water. You gulped it down in no time, panting from the lack of oxygen.

”You’re in a secure location.” The man from before piped up, he was still wearing the odd mask and outfit.

The doctors and nurses attempted to restore what you had ripped out, but you flinched as a hand touched you.

They stopped again, not wanting more destruction.

”Please let them help you, you’ve been injured.” The man says.

You looked at the tall man in front of you.

”Why am I here?” You question him.

”You attempted to destroy the city.” He grunts

”No I didn’t! It was that thing those “scientists” gave me!” You shout, trying to defend yourself.

“I AM NOT A THING, CHILD. I AM VENOM. AND I HELPED YOU!” Venom screamed, though only you could hear him.

“What thing, and what scientists?” The tall man inquired.

”The black gooey thing, Venom. It appeared after one of the experiments the guys who took me did…” you trailed off, struggling to explain exactly what had happened to you.

The man stands for a moment, thinking. “Were you kidnapped?” He asked.

”I- I don’t really remember…” you look down, uncomfortable with all the eyes on you.

The tall man sighs and approaches you slowly, his mask suddenly dissipated before he started talking.

”I’m Miguel, what’s your name?” He had a small smile on his face, trying not to intimidate you more than he already has.

”it’s Y/n.”

“Well Y/n, I want to help you. Can you tell me what happened?”

—————————

After a long explanation Miguel told you that he needed to work some things out, so he left you under close watch by the nurses.

While he was gone you were given a small meal consisting of a sandwich, some carrots, and a cup of chocolate pudding. The doctors didn’t want you to eat too much as to not cause your malnourished body any harm, but you were still hungry.

Until you got to the chocolate pudding.

”That is amazing, I love it.” Venom says.

”it’s chocolate pudding.” You respond.

”I need more. I don’t feel as hungry anymore.”

—————————

When Miguel returned there was a pile of empty chocolate pudding cups on the bedside table and you were asking for more.

A nurse was trying to reason with you. ”Why don’t I get you some more carrots? You shouldn’t be eating so much sugar-“

”I need chocolate, that’s what he wants.” You argued.

”Hey kid. What do you mean by “it’s what he wants”?” Miguel questions you.

”Venom. He said chocolate makes him less hungry, and I was hoping if I kept eating it he’d finally shut up.” You avoided making eye contact with the tall male.

”Interesting… I did a little research and it seems that you’ve become a host for some sort of extra terrestrial being.”

“Well duh, Venom told me that already.” You give Miguel a deadpan look.

”It would have been nice to know that…” Miguel sighs. “We can start looking into removing the…”

”Symbiote”

”Right, Symbiote. We can look into removing the symbiote if you’d like.”

Suddenly the black goo emerges once again, taking over your face.

”I AM NOT GOING ANYWHERE YOU SPIDER SHIT!” Venom roars and then sinks back into your skin. Leaving you back to normal.

…

“I don’t think he wants to leave…”

”Well that was kind of obvious.” Miguel sighs.

—————————

It had been a few days since your arrival at the “secure location”, which after enough bugging of Miguel, you found out was the spider society. A place where spider folk like him from hundreds of different universes came together to protect the multiverse.

You had started trusting Miguel, and he the same with you. It was odd to others to see such a cold man being so caring and protective of a child who had “tried to kill him”.

He wasn’t the biggest fan of Venom, but when he realized you had a certain knack with the alien he stopped trying to convince you to separate from him.

Soon enough you started to train with Venom, Miguel helping you along the way. Miguel taught you hand to hand combat, self defense, and so much more.

Once Miguel believed you were ready, you started to go on missions with him. You met many other Spider folk and even made some good friends along the way.

Miguel knew that Venom needed phenylethylamine (or PEA for short) to survive. And since the only places you could get that was from brains or chocolate, he made sure there was always a large stock of chocolate around for you and venom, at least until he could develop something to give you the PEA you needed in a different way.

Miguel was glad that he had gone out on patrol that day, knowing that if he didn’t, he might not have met the kid who changed his life for the better.

—————————

Thanks for reading y’all! This was WAY longer than I was expecting, but hey, I got into it. I might make some separate or more headcanons with this reader/scenario.

(Also I got my first dose of testosterone done this morning, so your boy is finally on T!!!)

[doomedwarlock]

#DOOMEDWARLOCK: " I'm a nasty piece of work , chief . Ask anybody . "

Lev's non selective JOHN CONSTANTINE from Vertigo Comics, DC Comics and the Sandman Universe. Exclusively comic influenced.

promo template - character playlist

RULES & INFO UNDER THE CUT -

RULES -

Basic etiquette is expected: no godmodding, ic is not ooc, etc.

I don't consider all of hellblazer canon to my portrayal, I might make a list at some point, but most notably I am choosing to ignore Brian Azzarello's Hellblazer and the final 50 issues of the original Hellblazer. Also Hellblazer: Rebirth and any comic that takes place in a different universe. If you wish to rp with specific versions of John (like DKoS or Injustice verse) feel free to come plot!

A giant quest onto itself- I haven't consumed every media John has appeared in. For reference I have read/watched (in no particular order):

the entire original Hellblazer run and its special

Constantine: The Hellblazer

Hellblazer: City of Demons

Hellblazer: All His Engines

Hellblazer: Chas the Knowledge

sandman #3

Swamp Thing 1982

The Horrorist

That one action comics issue he appeared in

Sandman Universe: Hellblazer,

Hellblazer: Dead in America

Hellblazer: Rise and Fall

The Trenchcoat Brigade

Dark Knights of Steel

injustice year 3

Batman: Urban Legends

Batman: Damned

Zatanna and the Ripper

Spirit World

both dark justice league movies

Pre established connections and plotting is encouraged. Especially if your muse is from DC or the Sandman universe.

Hellblazer is a british political satire horror comic about a queer man in the 80s, this means trigger warnings for canon typical gore, a general pessimism about the world, politics and Britishness. Smoking and alcohol abuse will also be present. I will tag these triggers and any other common ones that may arise.

if you decide to unfollow me please (soft)block me

rp memes are the best way to start interacting with me, they are always accepted no matter how long ago I reblogged it.

INFO -

A foul-mouthed, disillusioned, chain smoking British cinic, John Constantine has had an affinity for magic since his youth. After running away from home as a teenager after a botched curse caused his father to become withered and frail, John eventually made his home in London. Quickly becoming involved in the city's occult circles. From there he made a name for himself for being a powerful sorcerer, one who can solve most problems with only his wit, but also a weirdness magnet. Becoming inevitably linked with forces truly out of his depth.

Though John's age varies across media, for simplicity's sake I will keep it at 43. His usual stomping ground is London, but he travels around very often for various reasons so he can easily be put wherever he needs to be. He's a very easy character to add to other universes (just ask DC).

He is also a relentless flirt, please don't mistake this as me trying to force a ship. If you / your character don't like his advances, feel free to let me / him know ic / ooc. Characters under 25 are too young for him.

Mun is 23 and Belgian

[kingjhs]

Hello~

I'm looking for long term, social rp partners/friends. I've met a lot if distant rp'ers before but I do like some ooc contact as well 🥹.

I'm 27 and living in Europe, (CEST). I'd only be comfortable writing with 19+ people.

I understand life gets busy sometimes but please only interact if you're serious. I've been ghosted one too many times. Just some common courtesy is nice! I work full time and have a family, I know how hectic life can get as well.

My rp preferences:

- only MxM or FxF (genderswap) BTS, I do not write OC's, sorry

- I prefer not to write Jimin ships unless I write as him. Sadly I've had too many traumatic experiences with Jimin rp'ers and I only learned to love the real Jimin again recently so it's frail :'))

- third person, length can differ according to how the story moves. Just no one or two liners. I usually write two to three paras.

- I rp as Hoseok, Yoongi, Jimin, Jungkook and Seokjin comfortably. Taehyung and Namjoon are quite complex for me.

- I like most ships! my absolute favourites are 2seok, yoonkook, junghope, jihope, minimoni, sope, jinkook, jinmin. I'm open to many things.

- I honestly enjoy most themes/AUs. Again, I'm not picky and if I get ideas really quickly. I do enjoy ANGST. So I like darker themes a lot. I like twisted characters, thrillers, action, dystopian, dark & a little fucked up. Let's say I enjoy dead dove subjects a lot.

- I prefer there to be smut in the stories, however I don't like to stick to one thing so I'd like someone more versatile. I've been forced to write top doms for years, it got boring. :'))

- there's three things I won't write and that's little kink, furries and ED's, other than that, free range honestly. I don't judge anything.

If you think we'd match, don't hesitate to send me a friend request on discord: meggv.

[minadoki]

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大家好, hello! this will be my first post on this account and I would like to start off with a brief introduction and a one-shot :D [+set of boundaries//dw, I will write it in front of every shot]

一、one: I usually write angsty fanfics because I lean towards a more emotional side, which makes it more comfortable for me to settle down and pour my thoughts over a messily written draft that I may cry about later on when proof reading :)

二、two: a little fun fact here, your sincerely unstable author here came from wattpad and traversed the universe to tumblr since my many favorite fanfics were either finished or paused. I came to tumblr mainly because I do not have a lot of time to dedicate to reading fics and writing a whole 10000 words chapter. :((

三、three: I mainly write “xreader” [fem!] shots but of course, it does not limit you to request a canon ship [or male!reader, but it kinda makes me uncomfortable haha]! [sorry to those who wants avengers or stranger things or any other live action series/movies x readers because I don’t really write those—I have also never watch those unless my parents watches them—so I can’t really make up a plot without making them OOC, I mainly write about anime/manga/certain books such as Harry Potter & Keeper of the Lost Cities though]

—pls do not claim this as your own if not permitted by the author

—take responsibility for your own digital footprint

—keep this environment toxic-free

THANK YOU

~that’s it for the intro<3

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SPY X FAMILY —————— yuri briar [fluff]

<1>

“Catch me!” You shrieked as the boy behind you bubbled with laughter, racing towards your small and frail figure. Your voices vibrated throughout the open field.

Your breath got heavier and your heart was drumming loudly in your ears, causing your mind to spin and your knees to go weak. Soon after, your legs gave out and a pair of hands grabbed onto your shoulders, causing the both of you to fall on the patch of fake grass. You felt him press himself against you by accident but he steadied himself, standing up before pulling you towards him, assisting you back to the small apartment in which he and his sister live in.

“Dinner time!” Yor announced excitedly, placing down a few packaged food on the dining table. Yuri grabbed you by your hand and pulled you to sit beside him as he is sandwiched between you and Yor.

Itadekimasu~

and you dug into the food while it’s still warm. “Oh and y/n,” Yor started, “when are your parents coming to pick you up?” A brief moment of silence fell upon the three of you, before you spoke with a full mouth, “uh-hum, they will be coming soon… so that I can wake up in time for school tomorrow.”

Yor smiled, her cheeks flashing a pink hue, “thanks again for standing up for Yuri at school the other day, it was really brave of you to do so..” You only glanced at Yuri in response, awkwardly nodding your head.

You’re still a new student in middle school and the Briar family have already kept you under their wing and made sure you treated them as a second home—somewhere like a safe haven to drown your worries and fears away.

Ding dong!

“Thank you, truly, for taking care of y/n here, her father and I have been quite busy today but we were relieved when you volunteered to take care of her, we couldn’t thank you more.. here take this sum of money as our token of appreciation!”

Ms Snow stuffed a hefty load of cash into Yor’s hands, forcing her to accept the offering whilst you waved at Yuri. “W-wow!” Yor said, flustered about the load of cash she was given. While Yuri was engrossed in the adult’s conversation, you sneaked up to him to plant a soft kiss on his cheeks before grabbing Ms Snow’s scarred hands to make a beeline for the traffic.

After crossing the traffic, Ms Snow’s expression turned somewhat serious, and you knew then. You straightened your posture and leaned in closer.

“It’s time for your training,”

<2>

It is heavily raining that day due to the bad weather conditions these few days. A rather cold breeze gushed in your direction as you shivered. The busy traffic did not help as much. You were just outside your office building when a few police officers patrolled the area, seeking for suspicious persons.

You squinted your eyes, searching for a cab that was available to get you a ride home but the rain was too heavy and all was masked by the brutal shower.

While waiting for an available cab, a few officers jogged towards you, their uniforms soaked with the heavy rainfall. But one—one of them was under an umbrella with another officer holding it upright, sheltering him from the heavy rain. Though he was from a distance.

Perhaps he sent those officers to interrogate you?

But instead, your mouth gaped in surprise when they offered to hitch you a ride home. Though it was slightly suspicious, you were thankful for the kind gesture, but you waved them off, rejecting the offer with an apologetic smile.

That’s when you saw him—your eyes shifting to observe the officer being sheltered from the rain.

Yuri..

You breathed, grasping onto the hem of your culottes. You watched as the officers offer a tired sigh and jog towards him, feeling the need to follow them as well. You gave up. Finally succumbing to your desires, you ran out into the heavy rain, the droplets immediately soaking your attire as the wild wind flapped your wet hair and pulled at your culottes.

“YURI!!”

You screamed. He paused, then turned around and your heart raced against your rib cage as a thousand butterflies swarmed in your stomach, dancing around as tears burned in your eyes.

You were basically drenched in your own sweat, tears and the rain that mercilessly pecked you for your rash decision by the time you neared him. You reached out your hands and grabbed his cheeks, placing your lips against his.

The world stopped.

Time stopped.

It was a beautiful, magical moment.

Yuri’s cheeks flared as he grabbed your hips close to his. And as your lips part, you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I love you..”

<discontinued>

-take note that this is just a sample so it may be a bit rushed (I spent 3 hours writing it)

-I’ll write a better one next time :)

[noctempoets]

౨ৎ 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭

character ; heimdall odinson

synopsis ; fairytales were an interest he did not share in, as the predictable and endearment plots of true love, or it’s tragedy we’re cliche and annoying at worst—until he unintentionally met her.

caution ; fem!reader, slight!ooc!heimdall, cheating/adultery (non-sexual), angst, character death, suggestive forced marriage, suggestive abuse, slight obsessive behaviour

࿔ edited ; October 21, 2024

(y/n) (l/n) was her name, and she was truly a kind one.

when meeting (y/n) (l/n), a frail mortal from the realm of Midgard whom he easily could’ve ignored and dismissed, felt like one of many fairytales he heard of, he could not hesitate to deny it, even though he wished to.

the sad gleam and lack of light in her eyes, the unwavering meagerness of terror she had facing upon the watchman of the aesir, the way her skin glowed against the moonlight, the stoic expression that made her look almost like a picture perfect porcelain doll—it all felt like an surreal fantasy come true. the turning point of the wrong story he crossed into and wanted to leave the existence of it.

but he was captivated by her, and at that moment, when she raised her hand to the night sky reaching out for the glistening stars, and showcasing the unmistakable and irritating wedding ring around her finger—he felt an immense consternation from such an object.

it was plain and simple, nothing breathtaking to the eyes, which was unlike (y/n) herself, in Heimdall’s opinion, and he was right.

though he did not miss that look of hopelessness and regret lingering within her eyes as she gazed upwards upon her wedding band clasped on her finger. the moonlight couldn’t even shine light into them.

that was their first appearance together from one another, and Heimdall wondered what she felt.

was she shocked or disheartened that he had not spoken to her and ignored her, or relived and beckoned that he had not?

Heimdall could not tell. her mind was an empty shell.

their second meeting was also unintentional, or spree of the moment for Heimdall’s case.

but he found her a little too interesting, much to his dismay, and so he decided to humor himself with her for just one night—or so he wanted to.

“what’s it like being immortal?” (y/n) questioned.

the said aesir god hummed as a sign of pondering his thoughts from the (h/c)’s haired girls question. the two were seated against one another on the dirt, leaned up against the wall of her home.

“repetitive, and boring. for me,” he trailed off, turning to face the girls direction, “it’s an constant annoyance. nothing changes even when it does.”

she nodded in consideration, copying his actions and turning to face him as well. heimdall stared at her for an moment, absorbing in every detail of her glowing features.

“then you must be damned for eternity, my friend, or perhaps maybe fortunate,” she replied in attempt of an pathetic laughter, only that it sounded attractive to the scion of the aesir’s ears.

her statement was quite curious, and even more so when she had no drop of fear in her despite sitting next to the threatening presence of one of the strongest aseir gods. with that in regard, Heimdall understood the comprehensive mortal perception of aesir gods.

heimdall lightly scoffed, and he almost scowled as he said, “and what makes your pretty little mind think I’m so lucky as an god?” there wasn’t any mortal who could precisely thought that way.

“your passing moments of eternity are lived in freedom,” she sadly smiled, and Heimdall was fully convinced and much more concerned that she lost her touch with reality.

only when he noticed her saddened trail of sight connect once again towards that irritating wedding band around her finger did he finally understood and figure what she metaphorically meant.

and so was the second ‘unintentional’ meeting, and the third, and then the fourth—he called each countless encounter unintentional until he couldn’t no longer lie to himself.

in sooth, he wanted nothing more than to see her, and even she clearly showed interest in him, regardless of being an married woman—although, he didn’t see her in that light.

he allowed her into his life and she was the beginning of that warmth of emotions. she was the first “friend” he had considered, she made him feel pleasant, and it seemed like every time she came to him, that gleam in his eyes would appear.

but on their last official unintentional meeting, when they stood alone together atop the highest peak of Midgard’s mountain, overlooking the vast landscape of the realm, he subconsciously could not take his glowing eyes off her ring finger. the mere sight of the object was the only mere obstacle that separated him and her in a place where he could not have her to himself.

that repulsive, clawing feeling within his chest ate at him—the dripping animosity he felt knowing that he was introduced to this mortal through unknown circumstances, only to have an barrier between them was downright disgusting.

(y/n) placed her hand soothingly on her wrist, an bandage wrapped tightly in restraint, and Heimdall never before felt this emotionally grey, and it was swarming—his spouse did not deserve her in his life.

and in a flurry of choices and instincts—though he did not even know what happened—that small, plain wedding band was suddenly clutched in the palm of his hand, and then released out into the air, falling down into the landscape in front of them. he thrown it without any thought or process, and only when (y/n) herself shirked in shock that reached his ears did he realize his unconscious actions.

“heimdall!” she whispered, reaching out her frail hand to the descending ring in an state of panic and terror. heimdall had to stop her body from moving, for she almost fell outwards.

her body tensed and her eyes became widened, visibly tingling from fear, and heimdall had known that throwing that ring would result trouble for her back at her home with her spouse.

“heimdall, do you realize what you—”

“leave this place and come with me.” heimdall said, that rush of instinct overcoming him in his frenzied state.

“what?”

he knew that something so outlandishly bold would sound so preposterously wayward—he knew and did not care. but when he stared into her eyes, there was clear light emitting that held an aura of hope behind them; that itself gave him the final push to continue moving forward. those loving eyes now held an sense of warmth—the sense of warmth that sheltered him with love and with care. it was subconsciously longed for over the course of his eternal life.

without another word, without instinct—his subconscious mind clear of everything—he pulled her warm body flush against his and kissed her deeply, pouring out all of his bottled up passion for her and emotion onto her lips.

though, he expected her to reject his advances, push him away from disgust and resentment; instead, she easily fell into his kiss, accepting every fiber of love he gave her, and returning all her affection she reckoned useless to him, with gleaming tears trailed down her cheeks.

and no longer, the two lovers ran away that night, hoping achieve their desires of eternity together.

“so, this is where you’ve been.”

confounded was an understatement of the wave of immense emotions that heimdall was feeling at that moment. when he had walked into the isolated shelter—one that he had been hiding his beloved (y/n) in after they ran away together—he did not expect the all-father, his father, to be standing at the center of the room.

the king of the aesir had a stare of disappointment and bare displeasure on his face, sternly eyeing heimdall down.

“won’t lie, i was surprised to find this mortal when i arrived. and honestly, i was hoping for something more.”

the sudden rush of blood in his veins spiked coldly into heimdall with internal panic, and his thoughts were racing as could not any longer sense (y/n)’s living soul in the shelter. the presence of his father before him did nothing to suppress his unhinged worries.

“this is…unusual for you. running away, your dissection, the behavior,” he stalked forward, making his way over until he stood directly next to him. his eyes down casted to meet heimdalls glowing ones.

“you’ve become weak, useless to me like this—whatever this is. but,” he sighed, “it’s okay. in your defense, perhaps i wasn’t paying you much attention when i needed to, keeping you in check, reminding you of your duties as an aesir.”

an ample pause reached their conversation, allowing time for heimdall to study the entrance of the shelter. the aesir god’s mind only grew in anticipation at the all-fathers responses, even more so when he still senses no soul in the home.

“just this once, i’ll forgive you. and don’t worry…i already solved your problem.”

that statement only confirmed what he had done. heimdall’s conscious mind clouded with anger, pain, loss, and fear—and if odin was seeing his current situation, he did not care for it.

but it did not matter in the end either way, for it was too late, as she was gone.

(y/n) (l/n)—light of his life—was dead, killed by the hands of the all-father himself. and it all happened before heimdall could even see her one last time.

“do not let this happen again, heimdall. it’s better this way.”

odin heartlessly made his way out of the shelter and into the dimming darkness, leaving the scion of the aesir to stand there alone. the stillness was uncanny, and it did not even register that tears were streaming down his face for the first time in his life.

but as much as he wanted to, heimdall couldn’t blame odin because of this outcome. as the one who was a wrenched god among mortals, it was his own fault.

a god and a mortal can never be together.

© aenyrapoets | do not modify, copy, claim, translate, or repost any of my blogs ; minors do not interact

[xaracosmia]

ꕥ — WELCOME TO EXO COSMIA, ROMAN SIONIS. 🌑

ꕥ  — OOC INFORMATION;

name/alias: Thysto age: 28 pronouns: he/they ooc contact: thyripsto (twt)  other characters in xc: Vespa Crabro, White Mask Varre

ꕥ  — IC INFORMATION;

name: Roman Sionis  age: Late 30s-early 40s.  pronouns: he/him series: DC Comics canon point: After his death (Primarily drawn from Catwoman 2005 run). app triggers: Hoo boy, I am trying to cover every possible base here. Abuse (familial and by romantic partner), murder, torture, arson, burning alive, gun and gang violence, death, lots of medical mentions (disease, near death, hospitals, procedures, lasting damage/brain damage), drug/alc mention

personality:

There is nothing that can be described as ‘pleasant’ in Roman Sionis. Well, maybe one thing - he is witty and funny, but in a way that is dry and sarcastic, intended to barb at something or someone else. Beyond that, however…not really. 

Demanding, harsh, and aggressive, Sionis is a man who was at the top of the world, fell, and then clawed his way up again. He expects everyone around him to know that he possesses a certain level of power and presence, and when they don’t, he will beat it into them. His temper is famously short - and he will take it out on everybody else around him. A minor inconvenience can turn into an outburst, and when he is mad he yells - even louder than he normally does. 

The root cause of this is in his history, sure, but it is the same thing that prevents him from improving as a person. His self-confidence and ego, his inability to as for help or admit fault, the fear of weakness and perception that any and all things that cannot be done on his own are a weakness - all of it plays in his head. And while he is certainly not unsure of his actions or of his self, he is incapable and uncertain in the face of vulnerability, in opening up to others, in a relationship that isn’t more than the man giving the orders and the person taking it - or the person who needs to be killed. 

He tends towards the self-destructive, but in ways beyond that of the physical. Oh no, he is very mindful of his own bodily limits, though he keeps those a secret - instead, he tears down anything good that might come to him, before it can reach in and attach to him. Before he really starts to feel and care. Before it can hurt. 

That might be what it all comes down to - fear. And what does fear do? It makes him angry. That’s part of the trouble with him, the damage in his brain; it makes everything jump, skip right to the worst, and therapy for it? Forget it. That’s more weakness. 

something your muse struggles with: Everything to do with interpersonal relationships, particularly when it comes to vulnerability. To show weakness is to make yourself a target, and to grow fond is to make your heart weak and frail. He’s lonely and he will self-sabotage and he has died alone once.

your muse’s greatest strength: He is stubborn. It’s a fault, but also a blessing - he will not give up on things when he sets to it, no matter the pain he goes through. He will ALWAYS find a way to win - even when it kills him. 

history/background:

Roman Sionis should have been loved. Instead, he was just an icon. 

His mother was disinterested in parenting – hell, she was disinterested in being married. Instead, she took to his father for the money, and he took to her because she was an easy arrangement: she gives him a son, an heir, and then she can do whatever it is she wants with the money. They never had any love. Richard Sionis didn’t BELIEVE in the idea of it - he saw the world in terms of people who wanted something and how much they wanted to take, and assumed that every interaction was the beginning of a transaction, even if it wasn’t stated. It’s a mindset Roman would inherit - but that comes later. 

The young Sionis was the solitary heir to a long-standing business empire. The Sionis family was rich and prolific - their name old, notable. For ages, they had owned Sionis Steelworks, one of the largest industrial factories in Gotham, alongside several other notable businesses (the one of note here will be Janus cosmetics). Rich and given any material object he wanted, he was the image of a spoiled son - only one without any love, any example. His care was administered by nannies and maids paid well, but not well enough to deal consistently with a child that felt the world was owed to him. A child already predisposed to lashing out for attention. 

He was also a child not told enough tips for his own wellbeing. Playing late into the evening (rather than return to a loveless inside, where his current guardian would depart and he would be left sitting with his father for hours), he came across a raccoon. Raised on television and comics, he thought it might, perhaps, be just as friendly as the mascot he had been seeing. 

I don’t need to tell you a wild animal isn’t. 

The cut on chest and hands were given a casual treatment, he was told how stupid he was, and he was sent off. It wasn’t until his fever reached 104 degrees a while later that they bothered to take him to the hospital, despite showing signs of malaise for days; it was just a shame he was trapped home sick from his fancy, gated-in rich kid school.

It was meningitis. It should have been fatal. Throw enough money at a problem, though, and they can cure your seven year old. It left Roman damaged; some things just don’t heal up right, especially when scarred that young. His emotional regulation would never be “just right,” and he was left with severe hearing loss. 

Let’s skip ahead, past his college partying and all the fleeting, unimportant relationships and faces who only wanted to be near him for the money and the prestige. He was good at keeping them around. Yes, let’s skip right ahead to when he worked at Janus Cosmetics, learning through experience beneath his old man. Let’s skip ahead to Circe. 

She was a model at Janus, a new one. She was pretty, she was sweet and spoke softly, and more than anything, she didn’t know who Roman was. Didn’t know he was the big boss’ son, didn’t know he was rich and powerful. It meant that she didn’t want anything from him, no money, no power. She just wanted to be by him for him, laugh with him because he was funny, love him because he was him. They were inseparable fast, and he proposed even faster. 

His parents did not accept it. They threatened him, threatened her, threatened everything. Kick him out, strip everything away. Roman, weak, upset, complained of it - and Circe simply told him to kill them. Kill them, and they could have anything. Or else she would have to go. 

So he did it. He lit the curtains on fire and locked them in the old sitting room, listened until they stopped screaming, and then called it in. Of course there was nothing left. He inherited everything - and a series of bad business decisions and blissful spending on Circe later, everything at her behest, everything to make her happy, keep her happy, keep her with him - and he was bankrupt. 

Old Bruce Wayne bailed him out - something Roman will never forget and never forgive. Still, he had Circe. He had her right there with him. She would never leave him, she loved him so much. Only she didn’t. Only it was all a lie, and not long after she buried a knife in his shoulder and left him for dead. One hospital trip later and he got a diagnosis - a finite number on his lifespan, and one much smaller than others. 

With nothing left, he went on one last bender, stumbled to the mausoleum in the pouring rain. Screamed at the burnt up corpse of his father through the doorway - then slipped on the steps and tumbled down. He smashed his head on the ebony wood coffin, and delirious, thought up a new form of reversal. A new form of rebirth. A new identity. 

In a stupor he carved the first pass of a design from the coffin. A skull. A face of Death. Everything that followed and haunted him. When he emerged after the storm, he decided to become the Black Mask. And so his criminal career began.

Just with one catch - he made sure to hunt Circe down and enact his revenge on her. Burn her beautiful face until there was nothing left, torture her till she begged. She responded in kind, lighting him on fire - sealing the mask on his face forever. 

Maybe it’s mundane. Maybe it’s magic. Either way, the mask is here to stay. Roman Sionis is an echo. Black Mask is the real man, now. 

powers/abilities:

Roman is a mundane guy. Not a power to his name. 

inherent abilities: 

Combat Know-How - Enough boxing, scrapping, and gunplay to get himself by. He isn’t a professional MMA fighter or anything, but he can make a hell of a dent in something. Beyond that, he has a very, very VERY deep love for everything with a nice, sharp blade. And he’s really good with them (No, I don’t know how or when he learned how to use a sword well, but he DOES). 

items/weapons: 

Twin Handguns - A pair of twin, semi-automatic pistols. There isn’t anything special about them. Function over fashion, this time. 

Favorite Knife Collection - Kept in a nice, rolled leather case where everything has its place. These are actually special - sharp, custom-made, finished matte. For a variety of very specific, potentially on-the-go uses. 

starting ability: None.

starting item: Favorite Knife Collection

extra: 

Given the fact that comics are very varied and fluctuate, my portrayal of Roman takes and combines aspects of canon sources from all over with headcanon I’ve built over the past 5 years. Please ask me about it. 

My Roman is deaf and immunocompromised. He needs medical treatment actively and will be using the hospitals/care facilities actively. 

Oh also, he is afraid of most animals (mammals and mammal adjacent specifically) especially raccoons and dogs. 

He doesn’t remember he died yet. Waiting for something to trigger that one :) 

discord id: BLACK MASK#3488

passcode: used to rb fanart of this guy a lot when i was a kid also this was incredibly funny to me while processing this app

[zestrya]

daydreams by your side, forever

he made you feel as if you were crazy, even when you knew the way he acted was unnatural he made it seem so natural. you knew all of his claims of love for you weren't true, still, you remained by his side, always letting his nurture this sick obsession with a frail hope for a blooming love.

pairing:: riddle rosehearts x gn!reader

cw:: yandere; unhealthy relationship dynamic; obsession; mention of physical/psychological abuse; stockholm syndrome. if i missed something, tell me, don't wanna trigger anyone.

notes:: may be quite ooc, especially since i got too lost daydreaming about him midway through.

it wasn't that bad, you thought to yourself. his touches were gentle, most of the time at least, as long as you were good for him, as long as you reciprocated his words of love, as long as you accepted being his living doll.

he wasn't that bad, you thought. he gave you everything you could ever wish for, only if you paid the measly price of your freedom.

you were scared at first and you'd be lying if you said felt nothing about it even today, still you were aware such feelings would do nothing but bring you sadness.

especially when the rosehearts was so observant of your every action, when even flinching away from his touch once would offer you an endless string of punishments, eyes raging in a freezing anger whenever he so much as deemed you actions as unfit of his partner.

how could you, a future member of the rosehearts family, port yourself in such an unsightly way?

the worst part was when he sighed with that depreciative look he sent your way whenever you missed any of his rules, his tone was as if he was scolding a dog and not his own partner, though at this point, you guessed you were even lower than any pet to him.

“[name], you know i hate to go over this all over again as much as you do, but i can't let you go any longer disrespecting the Queen of Roses rules.” he lied. you could see the way his eyes shone whenever it came to punishment.

it wasn't always like that, when you first became partners he was a gentle soul, not the most lenient, but still willing to teach you and follow your pace, but with time his state seemed to worsen, patience running thin with even the most subtle etiquette error, as the shadow beneath his feet grew darker with each passing day.

the days after the punishments were far better, he'd embrace you all day long if you so wished, he'd even ignore your existence if that's what would put you more at ease.

he was a good lover after all. one that could offer all you ever wanted and more, if only it wasn't a pure, underwhelming love, after all, how could he, when all of his thoughts were plagued by your existence?

there were times where he couldn't even sleep while thinking of you, face unusually serene as he hugged you to sleep, but he couldn't even notice how his arms were wrapped far too tightly for you to find any comfort under his touches, but even if you didn't have any sleep he'd smile, lovestruck, just to have some pillowtalk with his most precious person.

otherwise, on days you followed the rules perfectly you could expect the best treatment possible, he wouldn't be above a loyal servant at that point, letting you even use his lap as a pillow or having him act as your own hands and feet, his praises soaring as high as the skies, he just wasn't one to let good feats go unnoticed after all, all good job should be rewarded, after all, that way you'd be even more motivated to continue, right?

though, the rosehearts wasn't as just as he liked to paint himself, most of your problems arose from his petty jealousy, his mind getting muddled with obsessive thoughts if you so much as offered to pour tea to some of his guest at the unbirthday party, things being even worse if some headless fool such as ace appeared, touching you freely under the watch of the Ruler himself.

he learned to control himself, he said, at least under the guests watch, you thought.

when all the eyes turned around it was time for your hell to start, his hands gripping so tightly at your wrist that at times you were scared it would break, his body so close to yours that it seemed he would eat you whole if it meant he could keep you away from others, after all, he knew his many flaws better than anyone else, he never talked about it, but he was so insecure that you would leave him, that at times he even considered getting a contract from the ashengrotto so you would be forever tied to him.

what he didn't know, though, was that his love was like a serpent, one that wrapped around you so tightly that you didn't have any strength to get it away anymore, that even if his love wasn't just like it used to, he was still the riddle that you once fell in love.

love came in many ways, and even if his wasn't as safe as you liked to think, it was still the love that you choose to pursue.

[monin1ca]

HIHI I LOVE UR BLOG SM AND WANTED TO ASK IF YOU COULD DO MY TWO MAINS (YORU AND SOVA) IF THEY WERE FEELING KINDA OFF OR ANGRY AND KINDA LASHED OUT ON THE READER?? TY IN ADVANCE<33

Word count: 790

Warnings: kinda angsty?? comfort in the end thowww, kinda ooc?? cursing

Note: HWAHWA TYY NONNY FOR ASKING THIS IS MY FIRST ASK KEEP EM COMMING!!

Yoru

Yoru was feeling irritated that day, he slightly messed up his part of the plan and Phoenix wouldn’t stop nagging him for it. Noticing his irritation you walked up to him with a warm smile, hoping to comfort him. “Hey Yoru!” You said, he just continued to get a drink from the fridge. You frowned, “Yoru?...” you said in a hushed voice, he gave you the side-eye and you could visibly see a vein pop up on the side of his head. You took this as your cue to leave, this really hurt your feelings as you wanted to make him feel better not do the opposite. You sat down on the couch, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. ‘That asshole.’

You ignored him that day, no good morning greetings or hugs. You never glanced his way that day, as much as possible you didn’t try to go out of your workstation and drown yourself with work. Hoping Yoru would feel what you felt yesterday. On his point of view, he completely knew he was the asshole. It was completely wrong for him to act like that to you and take his anger out on you. He desperately needed to apologize, he walked over to your workstation and knocked. 

Knock, knock, knock…

You hear the loud knocks on your door, you sluggishly walked over to the door. ‘It’s 2 in the fucking morning, who the fuck could this little piece of shit be??... Oh.’ You hissed, and your resting face immediately turned into a scowl. As you were about to slam the door he held the door,’ Damn this man's strength!’ you growled. He pushes you against the wall, your arms were crossed and eyebrows raised. You can smell the strong scent of perfume and a hint of spicy ramen. “I’m completely sorry Y/N. I had no right to treat you like shit and I’m here to make up for it.” His face was bashful but you could tell it was a genuine apology.

“...... You idiot.”

Sova

Sova was feeling off, he felt anger over the smallest mistake.This patience he had, was it running out? He knew that if you came up to him and spoke he would just snap, to avoid this problem. He came up with a  solution that he should ignore you, it was a horrid solution. He knows that, he wasn’t an idiot. He would try to communicate with you but this feeling wasn’t helping. Sova looked standoffish, you wondered why. He seemed lost in his thoughts and looked colder than usual. Walking up to him with a warm smile you greeted, “Hey, Sova!..... Sova?” When he saw you approach, when he heard your beautiful voice he left. He felt so so so bad, “I’m sorry Y/N, this for the best.” Sova muttered under his breath. You on the other hand were shocked and very sad. ‘Did I do something wrong?’ You thought, ‘Sova wouldn’t do that if there was something wrong.’ Your heart dropped as you thought about what caused him to leave. ‘Does he want to end things?!’

You ran for Sova’s room, not caring for any formalities. Barging in you saw your boyfriend sitting in silence, shocked at your actions. “Sasha?! A-are you planning to end things with me??!! If so a-at least tell me!!” You felt like you were overthinking things but Sasha’s been acting weird lately and it was hard for you to think of any other answer. You were desperate, you were stuttering over every word you said to him. You were wiping your tears, holding your hiccups back. Sova felt even more horrible, he didn’t know things would end up like this. He got off his bed and knelt down beside, enveloping his arms around your frail body. “My love,” He whispered, you looked up to see Sasha with a concerned look. “I could never leave you, I was feeling weird today and it wasn’t because of you.” He continued, “This is all my fault my dear, I should have communicated to you what I was feeling but I simply couldn't.” You were shocked and relieved when he told you his situation, “I’m glad you told me, I feel relieved.” You said softly, you were quite hoarse from all the crying. Sasha noticed this and carried you to bed, gently tucking you in. “Let me take care of you, my love. <3”

Author’s Note : I KNOW I HAVE BEEN DEAD FOR A MONTH BUT THIS ASK REALLY BROUGHT ME BACK TO LIFE ;)) I APOLOGIZE AGAIN FOR THE INACTIVITY

[rxspbrrry]

if i were a zombie, i'd never eat your brains.

notes ; gn reader, zombie lilac, zombie apocalypse, lilac beats the SHIT out of affogato, exams are over so i rushed this, i hate the ending so so much!!!!!, very, very tiny y//ndere if you squint but still sfw, very very ooc lilac

a/n: @azlrse I AM SO SORRY. FOR THE VERY LATE HALF OF THE COLLAB go check out azalea's half btw its super cool hehehehehe

it was an accident.

getting bitten was lilac’s last intentions - as he was an assassin, one would expect that he of all people survive in the apocalypse. so it was ironic and embarrassing, really, for such a well trained assassin like him to get bitten the moment he tried fighting the zombies off his camp.

did it matter now, though? clearly not, since lilac can barely remember himself. his blades and lilac scent are the only things reminding him of who he used to be before being infested.

nothing is clear, and everything feels fuzzy. what should’ve been memories, good or bad, are now just blurry images in his mind. the people he thinks he should’ve remembered have their faces distorted and blocked by none other than the zombie infection in him. lilac does not like the feeling of being constantly confused. he’s a— what do you call it again? assassin?— and assassins do not forget. assassins do not lose their target nor their mission in mind.

assassins do not get bitten by zombies.

lilac does not like the feeling of regret. he moves as swiftly as he kills (or used to), and when he does he leaves no regrets behind. how odd it is to mourn for something long gone for the first time. assassins do not mourn. assassins do not regret.

assassins do not get bit—

the shuffling of footsteps from behind him wakes lilac up from his internal lament, having had his keen senses remained in him despite the infection. he tenses up and prepares to turn around to fight the assailant, but when he does turn around, all he sees is a concerned face and a timid, frail person.

“excuse me,” you start cautiously, “i saw you staggering around earlier, are you lost…?”

absolutely, lilac wants to scream. nothing is clear. everything is foggy. i don’t remember almost anything. i lost everything after being bitten. and— oh, you’re still here?

“even though you’re a… ah, but you look harmless. besides, you’re injured,” you pursed your lips, deep in thought. “the rest shouldn’t be too alarmed if i bring back a wandering zombie, right?”

your concern is sickeningly warm. warm is a feeling that zombies hate, but all lilac wants to do is to get closer to you. an invisible silver string of light flows from his heart to yours, binding and pulling him towards you. he immediately feels the need to protect you, the one who feels concern for a zombie.

lilac does not know you, yet you somehow make everything clear to him.

-

“and that’s the last of them!” you puff, a lovely smile stretched on your features after defeating the zombie horde with your companion. turning to said companion, you feel your lips twitching up further when you see the subtly elated look on his face. “job well done, lilac. we can sleep peacefully tonight!”

lilac relishes in the praise like a puppy would, and melts when you pat his head. almost literally, it seems, because you forget for the hundredth time that zombies hate warmth and you panic when you see him sweating from the contact alone.

lilac does not care. (name) can sleep peacefully tonight, he thinks. (name), (name), (name).

it is quite embarrassing how he has been reduced to but a simp for the person who found him when he first got zombified; he is quite sure his past self, despite not remembering him, would not agree with his actions now. how unfulfilling it is to let someone’s safety and feelings dictate your entire life. ah, but lilac is a zombie now, so why does that matter?

he remembers the first time you brought him back to your camp and other companions, and he remembers how they looked at him with suspicion and hostility. he remembers how you coaxed all of them to befriend him and convinced them that he wouldn’t do anything to you all. he remembers how everyone stared while you focused on him and wrapped up his wounds, softly telling him “they will trust you. it will just take some time. in return, do not attack them, okay?”

lilac will listen to anything you say.

after a few weeks, the majority of the group has finally accepted lilac as part member, part bodyguard (and part zombie, he bitterly reminds himself). his past self’s agility and training paid off as he is the group’s main protector from zombie hordes (the only way he could make your comrades trust him).

quite frankly, lilac does not care for them. all he cares about is you.

besides, why should he care for them, anyway? all they do is shoot him distrusting glances and steer you away from him when he tries to get close to you. he does not understand. he knows that he is a zombie and your friends are concerned, but— how dare you take his saviour away from him? aren’t you his? you saved him, didn’t you? you would agree too, wouldn’t you?

he knows his intuition is correct when he spots one of your allies creeping near your tent with an axe in hand that night. even if his brain is reduced to mush, an effect of the zombification, it was obvious enough that this “ally” of yours had intended to betray you.

lilac proceeds with what he always does— kill. while he used to kill for his job, he now kills to protect, to protect you. you’d understand… wouldn’t you?

“what is the meaning of this?” you holler, stepping outside your tent to witness lilac destroying affogato’s face and bludgeoning his brains. chills run down your spine when lilac looks up to you and smiles sweetly, proud of his work, but you keep your stern face on.

he takes two steps forward as you take two steps back. he reaches out to gingerly cup your cheek when you try to dodge. he leans his cold, borderline rotting forehead on yours, mumbling something incoherent, and plays with your hair.

just when lilac thought you would forgive him, you push him away. you’ve never seen a more heartbroken look on a zombie’s face— or anyone’s face, at that.

“did you not forget what you promised, lilac?” you reprimanded him, pointing to the grossly remains of affogato’s body. “you said you wouldn’t harm any of us, and we would provide you with care in return! you’ve been so helpful for the past few days, so why did you suddenly attack him? lilac, are you going back into your brain-eating tendencies?”

lilac hates the horrified look on your face. why do you stare at him with such fear? where is the cozy warm look that you gave him when you saved him?

did you really think he would eat your brains?

without warning, he reaches out, ignoring your yelp and pulls you close to him. you squirm and wiggle in his grasp but he doesn’t let go. to him, in order to prove to you that he won’t harm you no matter what, isn’t the best way to just show you?

you finally stop tensing after realising that he only wanted a hug after many minutes. the thought of you relaxing in his hold is so dear to him. he hums softly, slowly making you forget that affogato’s body is still next to the two of you and that you would have to explain to the rest why he’s dead the next morning. but affogato only served as a mere example of what would happen if anyone dared to hurt you or got in his way, so forgiveness should be easy to get.

yes, my love, lilac squeezes you tighter until you fall asleep in his cold arms, i would never eat your brains.

[theloganator101]

Whenever Horikoshi Stans or Bakugou Stans talk about Bakugou's character development. They always start with how he respected Uraraka and how it was only him who respected her which is BS. Midoriya, Iida, Tsuyu and more importantly her parents respect her and believe in her. I don't see where Bakugou respected her like he was the first to tell her to walk away from the fight which is disrespectful. He was just toying with her. If he really respected her strength he should've taken the fight 'seriously' by trying to end the fight quickly. He had ample of chances and yet he just stood there too prideful to move his butt. For me the pro was correct to judge Bakugou considering he was mindlessly dragging a fight with the sole intention of hurting his opponent. Aizawa's declaration and defence for Bakugou was BS. There's also no POV from Bakugou about his opponent to prove Aizawa's claim. Bakugou even contradicted Aizawa's claim when he said it's time to get serious. Which means he wasn't serious before which also means he didn't acknowledge her strength and capabilities like Aizawa claimed. Only at this point he decides to go on the offensive?. Honestly the way this whole fight and story was written was just to paint Bakugou as good While painting Tsuyu and Iida in a bad light. His behaviour and actions contradicts what narrative wanted to heavily potray about him. Even after the fight he didn't respect her during the 'talk' with Midoriya. In fact since the start it was Midoriya who while being worried for her still cheered and believed in her and here he stood up for her. Just because Iida was worried doesn't mean he thought less of her. Just like Izuku he respects her. Iida to me was OOC with his comments considering his family are Pro heroes. Both Iida and Tsuyu's comments feel forced and OOC. Class A being worried is understandable considering they already saw what Bakugou did in his fight with Izuku in the Battle trials.

Bakugou saying She wasn't frail doesn't mean anything great.

I also don't agree with canon saying he respects Uraraka considering how Bakugou didn't acknowledge Izuku after their Battle trials since Izuku gave his all even with a disadvantage with his quirk.

I agree

With how the whole fight went down, this made me wonder if Hori had any plans of creating a side/subplot about sexism in the hero industry.

How there always seem to be more male heroes compared to female heroes.

How they're always used as a pretty face for advertising and never out fighting (With the exception of Muriko)

How their outfits are more sexualized compared to the male outfits

How this could lead to Momo having a big moment of calling it all out and wanting to change how people see female heroes

But who am I kidding!? This is Horikoshi! The same guy who hurts and kill off female characters and only gives deep and complex stories to the guys!

Added note: Also, if you’re going to address other topics such as discrimination, family abuse, and corruption of society. You may as well throw sexism into the pot!

[witchie-writings]

I see the Arbiter x Reader request and raise you: Rtas ‘Vadum x Reader?

i kid you not this was one of the hardest asks because i dont want Rtas 'Vadum to be like the Arbiter so some things might be OOC i'm so sorry-

but plz guys request more rtas' vadum x reader's bc he's secretly one of my faves

Rtas' Vadum HCs:

For Rtas', he shares a lot of similarities with the Arbiter, but I imagine Rtas' is more passionate about his feelings, and in general more open about them.

As an example, how he treats his men. The Arbiter could care less, but Rtas' showed geniune care and concern for even the grunts, which puts him apart from a lot of commanders within the Covenant itself.

When he finally ends up with you (defaulting to human!), he is no doubt overly protective. You are so much shorter than he is; you are no spartan, you are frail, prone to injury, and vulnerable. Rtas' sees it as his duty to guard you at all costs, and he takes his job VERY seriously. He always wants to be by your side, which can become suffocating rather quickly.

Yeah don't expect a lot of affection from this guy, it's rare than with Chief and the Arbiter, even when it comes to nicknames and saying 'I love you'.

Rtas' is very blunt and open about his opinions and what would be the best choice of action, so he might hurt your own feelings, albeit he never means to harm you. He's just worried about you; he wants only the best to someone who he holds so dearly to his beating hearts, even if it means he must resort to difficult actions you'll have issues with.

This sangheili will take time out his day to train you in the way of energy swords and daggers. He'll gift you your own personal weapons, and try his damn hardest to teach you everything he knows. The height, size, and weight different is a challenge in it's own right, but it taught Rtas' to be creative in his training; he learns new ways for you to use your height to take advantage of a much larger foe, and how to blind them in case you must make a quick escape.

Now I said physical affection and affection through words is rare for Rtas', but there will be rare instances where, when he's commanding ships and on the hunt for the flood, he'll let you take a seat on his lap to look out into the distant space. He'll have an arm lazily draped over your shoulders as you take in the dazzling sight. And then, he'll feel him rest his head on top of yours, mumbling a quiet "I love you."

Honestly, if you're the big nerd type to know so much lore and history, the sangheili will be pleasantly interested in what you have to offer. He'll let you ramble on for hours about random stories you've read or heard; his most favorite was the one with transforming robots, or called 'Cybertronians'. He wonders where they could potentially be found so that they can have an honorable fight.

Also I completely forgot to add in the last point, Rtas' will also teach you how to use a Ghost. He doesn't like the idea of you having to rely on one, but it's a caution.

Like John, he also has a secret plushie collection. You can often find them in his own personal quarters, which only you and him have access to. Rtas' only collects those that you give to him, so don't expect him to go out of his way to purchase an animal plush on a human colony. His favorite is of the giraffe plushie you got him when you first confessed to him.

Is not the jealous type... so he says. He's actually prone to jealousy, slighty more than John is. It confuses him to no end on what this burning feeling is in his hearts, or why the urge to confront your conversation partner is so painfully strong. He's unable to resist for long and soon enough, he's standing behind you, growling and demanding what information they're trying to get from you.

Yeah, that sends him running, and earns Rtas' a scolding.

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

The Ending of The Everlasting Sun.

Soukoku angst: will have 2 parts, one is Chuuya pov another is Dazai pov (Dazai is part 1 aka this piece. I'll start chuuya's tomorrow)

I’ll do a version for Dazai after (not pov but version so Chuuya can have the dose of Dazai’s pain T_T).

Warnings: Death, gore, violence, angst with just more angst. (idk if i consider dazai ooc but towards the end is mostly how i feel the situation would happen, so kinda ooc)

TBH, I don't know why I wrote this but hey I love feeding peeps and myself angst so, here you go.

The Ending of The Everlasting Sun. | A Soukoku Angst one-shot |

words: 4264

Dazai’s pov- (it swaps between third and first. I know my writing style is weird af)

The sun, a forever gleaming light in life. They say even in death, the sun won’t fade from your view. For light, something that brings reason to a life so pitched in black is everlasting. There is a place that resides within a person the sun that will never leave. Like the memories that one left behind shall forever hold. Memories will not fade, even as the deceased are placed within mounds of dirt, their body left to neatly decompose.

They say it is natural to feel your heart so heavy. To feel so pained when death washes over. Death can change a human, they say, death is rebirth, something shall always come from it. In some ways, Dazai knew the truth of such words. For he’s experienced the death of his light. At least he had thought the brunette, who’d stuck by his suicidal tendencies, his cruel ways, he thought that man had been the light. He had changed, he’d moved on into the light of this world. His heart may still be shadowed in the darkness the mafia left. The memories of those he left may never leave, but he was in the light. He was the light for another now. Still, dark himself, he’d help lead his news pupil to the light. He repeated this so often, yet why, why did his mind travel back to those days, the days when he was alongside that small ginger boy? The boy with anger issues could be heard a mile away, was he important? Why must he feel as if he left behind something important when he’d listened to a friend's dying wish? Surely he was better off now? He felt better, life wasn’t as black or as unlit as it had once been. So why? Why was it always that ginger that popped into his head on those restless nights? He worried so much if he was okay. If he was out there using that uncontrollable side without him. Ever since he left, he’d worried that ginger would do something as stupid as that. So maybe, just maybe, this world had blessed him with two lights. A light to change, that light had left him to save him. Then the second light, the light that showed him he could love and be loved. This world could take both lights to make such a realization, and eventually, this world, so cruel and dark would. Not by fate, but by the hand of an enemy who sought out Dazai’s weakness.

I stood beneath pelting rain, my mind held within it one thought, where was he? Never had the small boy I'd fallen for in my early teens missed a chance to torment me as I had tormented him. Never had he let the phone, to which we still held each other's numbers unblocked, reach the full number of rings before the voicemail kicked in. I had never felt this before. Nor had I the courage to admit such a thing. For feelings were only a danger to men like myself. I am undoubtedly cruel. Even now, in my early twenties, I stand beneath the rain alone. The mistakes of my past hanging over me for somebody to eventually discover. The past profession I had tried to hide and had hidden well for many years was creeping to my heels. The man whom I'd sought help from was gone, his final words my reason to be in the light. If neither side means anything, he told me to help the defenseless, to help the orphans. That is what I did. I left behind the ginger-haired boy whom, I now say with hesitance, I loved. It is a fine point that I was able to decline such things until after I left the mafia, for otherwise, I may have tried to do good whilst in the mafia, so I could stay with my final light within my life. Many have shed their light on me. The orphan I took in has shocked me many times, reading me in a way I thought only Oda, my extinguished light, could. He knew I was mourning that past friend when he found me at his grave. He continues to shock me to this day, the only one who can occasionally see past the mask I've worn since I was 14, since Mori found me. Kunikida has taught me responsibility and morals. There is still a bottle of things I shall never change. Some people can’t change. My mind prevents me from collecting such information about being human. My ability says it all, does it not? It is a perfect description of myself. The intelligence I share with Dostoevsky is merely one of the many things that keep me behind the wall of change. I may do things for another reason, but I am still a shadow over the people around me. I curse them all, I have brought heavy burdens onto the agency, I harm all of those around me. Love is a feeling I'm incapable of. At least, I can not recognize true love, only conclude that is what this pain is. It is a pain like no other, it is not physical, but no sense of being can push away the tangent throb of every beat. It is my mind, and the way I was brought up so young, that initially warped me beyond repair. That is why I am here, running in the rain despite my coworkers protesting to stop me.

Dazai understood the trap he was headed for, but he knew the trap would result in a fatality either way. If it was his death that waited for him, then he was alright with that. If it was painless, and he died a quick death before his mouth could run to say final bidding words to Chuuya, then he’d die. If this taunt was to break him, if he were to be late, he would drop to his knees and beg his old friend, who lay watching over him, to be forgiven for his actions tonight. If some awful being really did oversee this world, let it give Dazai one moment of peace. Let him have one good light stay until he is gone. He couldn’t do it again, the pain of holding a bloodied body within his arms, it would be hell. He knew not of true mourning, the pain of losing the one, who in a storybook, could be considered a soulmate. He knew it, others knew it, so many people knew the way he stared at Chuuya was not a friendly matter. There was lust within his soft chocolate hues, a hidden cave behind closed doors. Secret thoughts hidden in his mind. The things he wished he could have done before he left, the way he wanted to fix things, to regain what he had lost by leaving the mafia.

With every soft patter, Dazai flew between streets and yards. With every step, he grew closer and closer. With every new step, he felt his heart sink. For the area around was brittle and frail. The ground was crushed and indented. Some buildings lay in tattered pieces. Holes the size of beds lay stretched in the buildings and grass. The worst began to form in his head as his legs picked up into a pace he thought he could never take into. His lungs burned with the inhaled drips of water that turned to flames within his lungs. He pushed past the pain, the burn, the tired flail of limbs. His legs grew numb, but he refused to stop until his arms were flying open doors to a building that looked so horribly damaged.

As if I were the show that night, I could remember the lights. My lungs felt like fire, and my legs were ready to buckle beneath my frail body. I had not eaten a proper meal for weeks, my pockets empty from money spent to cover the scars I had littered my body with. The night is a haze within my mind. An unwilling nightmare I wish to set aside and to never look at again. A night I wish could be rewritten. It was a night that even I had thought the same way as Destoveski. My mind was no longer set right, that side of me to which was feared, had ripped from its confines and torn through to confine me to my own mind. I had truly wanted to tear a sheet from the book spoken about so much in this little town of Yokohama. If it meant my lights could come back and this world could change, then I would, I would do it without a blink. I’d make myself the villain to free my light. I would do it for the right reasons. Yet, I could never ruin the lights of others. There would be too many sacrifices to do such a thing at that moment. To this day, I curse myself for thinking like that man, thinking about such things would make me like him. Dostoevsky was no man I wanted to be.

The light pulsed for a moment before illuminating the room in a sharp glow of white. Dazai stood blinded before the room came into focus, the empty space warm in comparison to the pelting rain. For a moment, the world had paused, allowing his mind to make a sharp halt and think. Though his thoughts were not something he wished to hear. The thoughts inside his head screamed an equal verse to the night he’d lost Oda. He had no more time to pause, as soon as he’d adjusted to the blaring lights, he was scanning the room, finding the spots of blood, the corpses littered on the ground. Then, he was running against his will again. The next thing he knew, he was diving forward too quickly brush against the ginger, who’d consumed his thoughts since they reunited all that time ago.

The first thoughts I had when I felt the cloth of his jacket, the same one I had sown hat-rack into when we were 15, were thoughts of panic. I was always the type of man who wore a mask, but that mask only masked my depression. I yearned for death, I lived to be human, and that feeling you have right as you fall victim to death may be my only chance at life. My co-workers were never worried about me. At first, I had shocked them. I remember the way Kunikida halted with his trust, how on my first job he watched me with a hawk's eye. Never once did I not feel the burning gaze of his judgment. I never blamed him, I was a man with an erased past. There was nothing to tell whether I was good or evil. The day I entered the agency, I would have said I was that darker gray that wisps on the side of black. Today, I would tell you I wanted to be the light, to be good, but I am far from it. It shall always be my nature to look up into another and dive within their soul. My hands are skilled in ways of torture. I could shoot down an enemy with my eyes closed. These pieces of me still exist, even though I had locked them to the confine of my mind, a faraway nightmare that haunted me. The faces of the victims who plead because they had family, haunt me. It’s not remorse I feel, it’s a haunting reminder that I shall never see that friend again. When I die, I shall not meet him in the afterlife, if there is one at all. I like to believe that one can look up and think there is such a place. These thoughts, wishes, all suddenly reappeared the moment his body fell to the floor. Yet, even coated in his own blood, his breathing so unsteady I feared he was only a few breaths from death, he remained beautiful. How could I, a genius strategist with an inhumane IQ, let this happen? Why had I not called him, this ginger, ocean-eyed slug? Chuuya, he’d always be those names to me. I still wonder why we call each other such things, but it makes us both feel alive. With him, I could act like a child, as I never had a true chance to be a child. Even now, if I could muster up the courage as I write, I'd twist the narrative so it looked as if I did not care. If I did that, I would dishonor the words we had shared that night.

Dazai rushed over the pavement to grab hold of Chuuya. His hands sliding over the boy's body to pull him over his lap. His eyes are a sea of worry and panic. One of his hands grabbed the boy’s wrist lightly, his pulse was so slow, his eyes were already slowly dropping, but Dazai stayed confident. “Hey Chibi, you’re an idiot.”

The frail form of the boy beneath him cracked a small smile. “You’re the idiot you- his body racked itself with a spurt of coughs, his lips dripping crimson to join the stains on his perfectly pale skin.- d-damn mackerel.”

Dazai dropped the boy's wrist with a chuckle, pressing his hand to the boy's lips. “Yeah, I know Chibi, I know. - The ginger's eyes began to flutter shut.- No Chibi, your eyes have to stay open. Look, I've got people coming to fix you up. So just try to keep yourself awake.” Dazai’s hand moved to cup the other's cheek. “You’ll be okay.”

Chuuya’s breath staggered a wheeze interrupting the shallow breaths he’d been going through. “I’m dying, aren't I?”

Dazai shook his head, feeling his chest sting with the familiar pain of grief. As if somebody took a microscope over the feeling, it continued to grow. By now, he was sure the pain exceeded the total amount of grief he’d gone through with Oda’s passing. “No Chibi, you’re not… you're not dying.” He paused in that sentence looking down at Chuuya, who laughed dryly.

“So fucking optimistic.” They sat in silence, and Chuuya's eyes fixed on Dazai. Though it was unnoticed by Dazai, his clouded tired eyes were on his lips. He was taking into memory the parts of wishes he’d never get. Every passing second, Chuuya felt his eyes threaten to drip shut. He was trying to listen to Dazai, but his eyes were bricks; sleep a melody that sang to him. With the fear of never waking up again, Chuuya lifted his hand from his side to reach Dazai’s cheek, his blood leaving a mark. “Hey, Dazai.” His voice lacked anything but sincerity.

“No Chuuya. No, you’re okay! Just a few more minutes and Yosano will be here! Fuck, just stop moving, keep your eyes open, keep breathing because you’re alright.” Chuuya had never seen Dazai act like this before. So as Dazai’s hand warmly wrapped around his, his head pressing into the cold touch of Chuuya’s, words were spoken.

“Dazai, I. Never. H-hated… you. I. lov-” before those words could finish, his body was shaking. Tears were forming, he was still conscious and very much alive, but his entire system of organs and cells were rejecting him. The use of corruption had been at its limit long before Dazai had touched him. Before his ability had been canceled out, he was beyond death. The way he coughed his hands, flailing out to grab Dazai’s shirt and press their bodies together, made even Dazai emotional. Dazai managed to still the boy's movements. His eyes half-open as he tried to hold onto whatever string was left. “Lo-” this time he was cut off by Dazai’s hand. His head shaking, hearing Chuuya speak would make this far too real.

He wasn’t ready to let him go. For the first time, he wanted to be far from death, far from the pain and suffering of humankind. So as Chuuya smiled and looked to the ceiling, his hand continued to stroke Dazai’s cheek. A reminder he was still alive.

That moment ended all too quickly when Chuuya took a final staggered breath and looked to Dazai. “Loved you.” He finished his sentence before his eyes dropped shut. His hand slipped into a limp state within Dazai’s hold.

It took the brunette no time to jump to compressions. He continuously screamed. A voice that had never once mourned, or shed a tear, now sat in a contorted expression between agony and doubt. His mind was static, for the first time nothing clear could form within his head. He shrieked out for Chuuya. Open your eyes, he had chanted and begged before he no longer had the strength to continue. He simply fell on top of Chuuya, his ear to his chest praying to hear a soft thud. Three minutes passed before his body, devoid of any, and everything was yanked away. Had he been shown a mirror, one would not have recognized Dazai. His clothes were bloodied, his hair disheveled and wet from the rain he’d run in only a handful of minutes ago.

Dazai sat numbly as his co-workers looked around trying to find if there was any danger left. When the scene was clear and Yosano made the final statement, the world truly crumbled. Still, despite having started CPR and rescue breaths, despite having felt the cooling touch of his skin, Dazai had held onto the hope that Yosano would fix this. He watched as she put on a work face. Her heels clicked across the ground as she walked over to Dazai with a doctor's approach, not a friend's approach. She bent before Dazai and began to speak. “Dazai, I need you to focus your eyes on me, alright?” Dazai could read her mind like an open book. His mind, in his numb state, had returned to his 17-year-old self. Devoid of any real feeling, bent on causing pain and suffering. He tilted his head like that child-self would in this situation. For once, he genuinely felt human. “I understand you were close to Nakahara-san. You were also here at the scene. It’s with much regret-” before she could finish, Dazai’s eyes grew cold and clouded, his lips a snarl as he shoved her.

“He’s okay! Chuuya is okay, he’ll wake up! He always does, even when I have to change things in a second advance because I fucked up. He's okay! We’re soukoku, double black. We can’t be put down. We’re partners, we need each other." even Yosano froze at the sudden outburst. The way Dazai cried without realizing the tears were falling. The way he tried to look happy as if he hadn’t watched Chuuya die within his arms. “Right… he’s okay right?” Dazai hardly knew what he was saying, his head foggy, his mind trying to stay collected.

If one could compare him to anything, one would say that moment he'd looked like a child, no older than fourteen, who’d watched a death before their eyes. Yosano collected herself before shaking her head. She decided to take the approach she’d have with a child instead of an adult. For in this moment, Dazai was experiencing what one could call his first-ever truly emotional loss. This was the first time his mind was catching up with him. “Dazai, Chuuya cared very much for you. You know that right?”

Dazai seemed to calm slightly at the thought as he focused on Yosano. “Yeah, he loved me… he said he loved me.” Suddenly, the situation became worse than she’d thought.

“Mhm, and you loved him too?” Dazai took his time to slowly nod before gulping and shrinking down.

“And now… he’s not coming home. No more loud, annoying comments. No more nights at the bar…” Dazai’s voice choked before the sounds of more footsteps followed in.

A high-pitched female voice screamed in a shrieking roar. “Where is he!” Dazai knew that voice. Kouyo, his Ane-san. At least, at one point she’d been his Ane-san. But his eyes stopped looking at Yosano and instead took a glimpse at Chuuya, whose corpse still lay there.

Once more, Dazai’s emotions took control, and he placed his hands over his eyes and shut himself away. Yosano swore under her breath and stood up. “Which one is he?” Yosano stood up rather angrily. She disliked her conversations being so rudely interrupted, even if it were somebody she had a small connection with.

“Chuuya…” the red-haired female stormed over before spotting Dazai first. His body cradled in like a child. A position she’d never seen him in. Her heart could only lurch to the worst. Hesitantly, she looked off to the side and saw it. The bloodied corpse. She spent no more time looking, she couldn’t.

She shoved Yosano away from Dazai, a boy she had once helped to look after and almost raise. Though she resented the boy for abandoning his role as an executive, she knew how much the pair had been connected. So she’d be a mother or older sister for a bit. Something Dazai had never seemed to have. “Dazai, it’s Kouyo, can you look at me? I just wanna make sure you’re alright.”

Dazai peeked from his arms, sniffing in his delirious state as he lunged towards her. Not in a hostile way, but an embrace. Something he never thought he’d need. He felt so human, so alive, but at the same time, he felt so dead inside. He felt as if his life had been torn and replaced within seconds. This feeling he couldn’t place a name on. “I was too late… I couldn’t, and now he’s and I… it’s all my-'' Kouyo was quick to shut him down, muffling her own sobs as she rocked Dazai in her arms.

“Hush child, these things happen. The fault is never that you could not make it in time. The fault lies within the bastard who did this. He always took extremes to protect you, Dazai. So hush now, let yourself grieve.” There was a slight pause as the agency starred in shock. This woman, who most of them knew as a vengeful woman with no remorse, sat cradling a grown man from an opposing organization as if he were her child, no more like an older sister cradling a younger brother. “Dazai, I won’t criticize your reaction, I've seen it many times in the mafia. Little children who witness death at such a young age think they are immune to it. They find another blame or they say they are monsters. You were 14 when Mori took you in. You never had somebody to teach you to grieve. You never needed to, not until now. So listen to me child, you’re going to let it all out, the years of pain and suffering, the years of grief for lost friends, even I have cried in my life. Nobody is immune to pain, some of us just think we are.” As Kouyo spoke, she noted Dazai’s breathing reached a slowing point. He was fast asleep before she finished her words. Her touch was gentle as she brushed a lock of his hair behind his ears.

Next, she walked over to Chuuya and hung her head, murmuring words of mourning. She walked off quickly, but came back moments later with his hat. “He’d want somebody to have it.” Yosano stood beside Kouyo, who choked back her own tears.

“I think it should go to Dazai. He always mocked his hats, even though he loved seeing Chuuya in them. They really were meant for each other. It’s unfortunate such a great pair ended up… in a life like this. Perhaps they will be reborn in an era where they are nothing but students who fall in love. I like to think there is always a second chance for lives that end too short.”

With a nod, they both looked to Dazai, who looked at peace sleeping on the ground.

~

When I woke up that day after, I could hardly remember anything. I had lost myself completely to the side that was human. I truly did try to live on, but it was difficult. No matter where I looked, I could see his laugh, I hated it. The pain that constantly wrapped around me. Hence, why I sit here with a pen. I never took myself to write my thoughts down. Oda had once ruminated about being a reader, he died before he ever could. I miss them both. I say that, but when I look down at the tear-stained paper, so many of them were for Chuuya. A love I never got to kiss or truly love. Today, I will not wake up. I no longer care about things like making my death overly complex and comfortable. I shall go to sleep with Chuuya’s hat at my side. I shall die with him at my side. That is how it should have been. Chuuya should have lived that night. I shall never know what sparked him to use corruption without me there. All I know is the worst person in the world, Destovesky, who now lay in a ditch from my own pistol, threatened the ginger to such an extent he felt the need to use it. In a way, I have solved several problems with one action. I killed the criminal, and I'm killing the single person whose blood runs more mafia black than any other.

Tag list If you want to be added when I upload fics/HC etc., just shoot me an ask: @jadegreenimmortality

[swallowtailcherry]

My hero academia oneshot

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warnings: suggestive stuff, Dom reader

~~~~~~~~~~

A sweat drop appeared on Midoriya's head as he watched you, his half sister, death glare at a third year that made fun of one of your friends. Uraraka followed his actions and watched you from afar along with Iida.

"Does she always do this?" The brown hair girl asked. Midoriya frowned and nodded, honestly used to your protective nature.

"Unfortunately. She's always been protective ever since we were kids. She was pretty much the only person who hung out with me." He said, seeing that you kicked the third year's ankle. He gasped and fell down. He grasped his ankle in pain, while you looked down at him with a straight face.

Both Uraraka and Iida have shocked faces. How can someone as frail looking as you take down a third year?

"See? Even if someone's stronger than her, she'll always find a way to counter that." Just as he said that, you kneed another third year's ribs with so much force. The boy choked out and fell to his knees, clutching his ribs. You sighed and went over to sit down next to Izuku.

"Sorry about that. They were getting on my nerves." You said, trying to hide the anger. Iida started doing his signature hand motions at her.

"You shouldn't be involving in unnecessary violence (l/n)!" He scolded. You just rolled your eyes at him.

"They're the ones who started it, not me." You said. Iida gasped and stopped talking.

"Where did you learn them?" Uraraka asked. Of fucking course someone wants to know.

"My aunty. She was strict on training me since I'm the only child of her nephew." You explained with little to no emotion at all.

You lost your father to a villain attack some years ago so his aunty offered to look after you with her sister, your grandmother. They've been doing good, until your aunty practically forced you to do intense training. Of course, your mother and other uncle were against this but your aunty refused to listen to them.

Ever since then, you've turned out to be anti social and protective to those you care deeply about. Izuku is one of them.

"Oh! You gotta teach me sometime!" Uraraka said with a bright smile. Midoriya gasped and shook his head furiously.

"I don't think you'd want (y/n) to show you her moves!" He said. Why?

Because you taught him a couple of moves. But you used them on him. You expected this kind of reaction.

"But why not?" She asked. You shrugged your shoulders at her, teasing Midoriya into thinking you didn't know what he was referring to but you knew too well.

"She'll demonstrate those moves on you." He said quietly. You gave him a quick smirk and got up. The bell rang.

"Well fuck. See you all in class." Cue Iida telling you not to run in the halls or swear.

Timeskip~

You were behind your boyfriend. Bakugo thought it was a good idea to take you mountain hiking. You were up for the idea and you honestly enjoyed it so he didn't have to worry. Well, not until another guy appeared behind you, staring at your ass. You didn't notice at first until you looked behind you.

"Nice view from here.." He said, not taking his eyes off your ass. You gave him a glare so intense he would've died the second he saw it. Bakugo will lose it if he found out but you know he'll find out either way so you flat out ignored the perverted guy.

Every time you looked back, his gaze was always on your ass. After 20 minutes, you decided enough was enough and turned to face him.

"Stop staring at my ass." You hissed, stepping back. This caught your boyfriend's attention. But you were too busy with the pervert to notice him getting angry by the minute.

"Why can't I? Much better than most girls." The pervert reached out to grab it but with lightning reflexes, you grabbed his wrist and tighten your fingers around it. He started to cry out as you slowly broke his wrist. Bakugo watched you go behind him and hold his arm. Then he heard the sounds of bones breaking and the guy fell, knocked out.

"We should get out of here. Now." You said, grabbing his bigger hand and run away from the unconscious guy on the ground. Once you both were far away you stopped to take a breath.

"Where the fuck did you learn that?" That was the first thing that came out of your boyfriend's mouth. You furrowed your eyebrows together.

"My aunty. She wanted me to defend myself." You answered. You inhaled and exhaled.

"For someone who looks frail, you know how to break a damn arm." He said, giving you a sly smirk. You groaned and placed your hands on your hips.

"Bitch, I've been doing that since I was a kid." You felt a little sassy at this point.

"THE FUCK YOU CALL ME?!"

"There's my Baku!~"

~~~~

Another timeskip~

You both made it to the dorms after a ride with your aunty, who wasn't that fond of Bakugou. But like both of you cared about that.

He's in your dorm, studying. More like you were studying and Bakugou just barged in to check up on you or something. You were used to him and his habit of badging in your dorm by kicking your door open (and nearly break the door but that's besides the point-)

"Oi you. You done?" He asked. You were nearly done when he suddenly slammed his hand on your desk.

Lemon starts here~

"How many times do I have to tell you NOT to slam your hand on my-" he cut you off by placing you in his lap.

"What the fuck?!" You exclaimed, trying to escape his arms but failed. He started attacking your neck with soft kisses, which led to nibbles on your soft skin. You held back a moan and grabbed his hand, turning yourself around and leaned closer to Bakugo.

"Ah ah ah!~ i don't think so~" you slurred out, connecting your lips with his, gripping his hair while tongue wrestling his. His first reaction as to pull away, only for you to grab his clothed member and play around with the tip. You felt him grunt in your mouth.

"Try to resist and I'll fucking stop." You hissed in the heated kiss, exploring his mouth. You slowly began to unbuckle his belt with one hand and played with the tip with your thumb. He growled and tried again, only to have his tongue bitten. But no too hard but hard enough for him to get the message.

"What the fuck?!-" You took out a whip and tied Bakugo's wrists together from the back.

"What the- untie me!!" He yelled, struggling to get his wrists free. You gave him a smirk and took your clothes off. You position yourself on his throbbing member, tracing your fingers along his muscles, licking your lips slowly.

"You know, I've always wanted to dominate you, just to see that cute face?~" you said, leaning in towards his neck and leaving soft licks and kisses along his jaw and neck. He held back his moans, not wanting to seem weak or putty and your touch but when you started biting his skin, he let out a shaky moan. You didn't stop with the soft bites.

You but down hard on his sweet spot, abusing it until you saw some blue form around the place where you bit. You lowered yourself down on his erect member and very slowly bounced up and down. You wrapped your arms around him and leaned forward, getting close to his ear.

"Be a good boy and I'll release your hands, got it?" You whispered softly. You heard him hold back a moan from your breath. You bounced faster and harder than before, letting his member hit your g spot over and over again. It sent waves of pleasure all over your naked body. This was your first time being dominate and it gave you pure bliss.

You start to moan out near his ear on purpose. You want him to give out those sweet moans of his. He was putty in your hands and you loved every second of it.

"I'm not letting out go until you call me mistress~" you sang out. You can feel the shivers going through his body.

"Ah~ Fuck." He managed the squeak out a few moans at you bouncing on his member. You still has the same smirk on your face.

"Does Baku need to cum?~" You asked. He starts breathing heavily.

"M-m-mistress.." he whimpers out. You untied his wrists and immediately gripped onto them. You gave him another hungry kiss before you tell him you were close. His breathing was starting to get sharper, one of the signs that he's close. After a few thrusts, you feel the warm liquid fill you up from the inside. You gasped out and panted heavily. You got off him and slowly fell back.

"Jesus, (y/n)..." He whispered, putting his pants on and got off your bed. .

"You enjoyed it." You said calmly. Bakugou's face turned a bright red.

"Whatever. One question, why are you always hanging out with that damn Deku?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Why can't I? You're not the boss of me" you said.

"Stop hanging out with him."

"He's my half brother, sweetheart."

"WWHHATTT?!"

"YOU'RE DATING KAACHAN?!"

"WHAT THE FUCK IZUKU?!"

__________________

Well fuck-

One of the longest oneshots I've ever written...

Plus this is my first time writing about Bakugou so I sincerely apologize for the ooc Baku-

Hope you enjoyed!