#his laugh lines around the eyes uwu uwu

[gael-garcia]

Gael García Bernal photographed by Matt Winkelmeyer @ the BAFTA Tea Party 2024

"The nature of doing theater, of interpretation, in itself creates a world where anyone can be anything. Whatever mask you put on you can tell something that has a lot of truth and it doesn’t matter who’s behind the mask. Therefore, you start to deconstruct gender as well. […] The theater is a tender place to explore your sexuality. Growing up, I felt like I could explore whatever." (x)

[imissnanami]

Perfect Aim w/ Nanami K.

KINK!tober w/ Nana Oct. 2 m.list

MDNI | nsfw use of ct, creampie, p in v, mating press a/n: for that other anon (UwU)

Four members of Jujitsu Kaisen’s staff sat in a meeting room. While waiting for Yaga, the conversation turned raunchier. The topic at hand? Whether or not Gojo’s cursed technique would be useful in the bedroom. Gojo obviously argued yes while Geto said that it would definitely not. Shoko thought it was stupid and typed away on her phone, idly listening. 

Up ‘till this point, Nanami had managed to remain neutral, or rather out of the conversation entirely by staying quiet. And hiding behind his newspaper. Well, until the strongest wasn’t satisfied with a tie. Gojo whined for Nanami to help him.

“Nanamiii~, you agree, right? Tell Suguru that he’s wrong, ok?” Gojo looked expectantly at the blond man. Geto also stared at him, not as invested but curious to see what Nanami would say.

Letting out a sigh, Nanami realized he wouldn’t be able to stay out of it any longer. Unfortunately. Folding his newspaper and turning to Gojo, he said,

“I think it’s stupid. If your only valid point is that your infinity is possibly equal to a 50 yen condom, then I’d die on another hill.” 

Gojo let out a dramatically loud gasp while Geto laughed at him. Shoko, who had stopped typing to listen, chuckled too. Geto spoke,

“Well Satoru, our precious kohai has spoken.”

Gojo scrambled for words, looking between the two. Yelling at Geto first,

“He didn’t mean it!” And then to Nanami,

“How could you betray me like that, I thought we had something special,” while wiping away a non-existent tear. 

Once they had settled down again, Shoko asked,

“Could you eve use a cursed technique for sex? Yanno cause they’re meant to be used on curses and all.”

The two strongest looked at one another, seeming not have considered that aspect of the conversation. Gojo simply shrugged, now bored with the conversation cause he lost. Geto stroked his chin, before humming. 

“I don’t really know. I mean mine isn’t really suited to it either way.”

Turning to Nanami once again, he asked,

“Nanami, What do you think?”

Nanami pursed his lips, thinking.

He thought back to last night. Specifically the memory of you laying on your back as he held you in a mean mating press. You were pressed up against the headboard. As the two of you fucked, you had migrated higher and higher on the bed. Each of his deep and strong thrusts inched you up. Your head, cushioned by a pillow, pushed forward as you stared up at Kento. His strong arms caged you in and supported his weight. You were bent in half, your thighs pinned to your chest and your knees by his ears. Sweat dripped down his body and as you looked up into his face, his eyebrows were drawn together in pleasure. Hot puffs of air passed through his open lips as he stared back at you. His golden hair fell into his line of vision but neither of you cared. 

Leaning forwards and angling your bodies closer together, he looked down. What he saw nearly made him cum on the spot. Your lower stomach was shiny with your cum. Your fat pussy lips bulged around his thick shaft, stretching to accommodate his length. With each thrust he saw the way your clitoral hood pulled back to reveal your swollen and glossy bud. A creamy ring of white decorated his base and matted the dark blond hair above. Feeling his mouth water he focuses on your steady stream of moans. He needed to change that. You should be absolutely wrecked and falling apart on his cum covered cock. 

Closing his eyes and concentrates on how your body reacts to each of his thrusts. Pulling out, how the vacuum of your pussy is desperately trying to stop him from leaving. How your muscles grip his length, milking it, begging for velvety ropes of cum. Pushing in, how there is resistance as his thick mushroom head pushes past the tight ring of muscles. How your gummy texture massages each vein on his length. How his slit drags against your walls, and kisses your cervix with each thrust. Suddenly, as if it were instinct, he knew exactly how to angle his hips, the exact depth of thrust, and the perfect pace. A feeling paralleling the one he gets when he uses his ct makes its way down his spine. 

The first thrust pulls a loud yell from your throat. The second has your hands scrambling for purchase, drawing red lines along his arms and chest. The third has tears welling in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks as you sob in pleasure. Feeling your walls clench down on his length has him biting his lip till he tastes blood. Each thrust hurtled the both of you closer and closer to your orgasm. As if that weren’t enough, Nanami brought his hand down to where you were connected. Pushing down he adds to the pressure, feeling himself moving inside of you. He moans so sweetly as he fucks your brains out. The ball of his palm grinds on your clit, you legs seize as you feel white hot pleasure race up your spine. 

“Hah, hah,hah, Ken-Kentoooooo” You moan.

“Look at me” his husky voice commands. You force your eyes open. Your breaths come faster and faster , your voice pitches higher and higher as you struggle to get out;

“Gonna...gonna, I’m- I’m cuming, I’m hahhhh” you whine as your body struggles in his grip. Feeling the way your cunt greedily milks his cock has Nanami teetering on the edge. A grunted 

“Fuck-” is all you get before he too is cumming hard. His full, heavy balls pull tight and thick ropes of cum shoot into your womb. His weight comes crashing down as he moans brokenly, hips still hitting that perfect spot before he thrusts in as far as he could go, plugging you up. You’re crying from the overstimulation as he finally settles. Nanami kisses your hair, whispering praise,

“...good girl...that’s my love...you did so well...��� Kissing all over your face he pulls his weight off of you and maneuvers the two of you on your sides, still tucked inside. Petting back your hair and then stroking your side he makes sure you’re content. Smiling up and him you giggle. 

His chest rumbles as he chuckles too. Having calmed down, you’re able to say,

“I’m so glad we discovered your technique can be used for this too.” 

Nanami rolls his eyes good naturally and pulls you closer, tucking your head into his chest. He kisses your head again. 

Pulling himself back from his memories, now with an uncomfortably tight pants, Nanami ponders aloud,

“Could you use a ct in the bedroom?” Before looking at Geto and Gojo.

“Who knows.”

>:)

tags | @plushygrrrl @alpha-mommy69 @roygbivvie @flooftoof

[fleurriee]

Hello dear!!!

I loved your az of Aemond, my heart was a little touched if I'm being honest uwu.

What do you think the az of modern!Aemond would be like?

Please don't feel obligated to answer, it was just a little idea I came up with. 💕

here it is!!! i know this ask was sent in ages ago & apologies for the wait, but i saw this & couldn’t resist, so have fun!! <3

please also feel free to request anything for aemond!! i'm really in the mood to write some drabbles for him!!

affection — how affectionate are they? do they show affection?

aemond is vvv affectionate in private.

i’m talking always wanting to be around you, always wanting to be doing the same thing as you, always wanting to be near.

if you’re in the living room, he’ll be in there with you, wanting to watch a movie with you.

if you’re in the kitchen, he’ll suddenly want to start cooking with you.

he loves to keep his hands on you, he honestly doesn’t care where. shoulders, waist, arm, you name it.

bye — what do they do when they need to leave? how are they feeling?

when aemond leaves, he always has to make sure he tells you he loves you.

it’s a really important thing for him, he simply cannot leave if he doesn’t do it, it just feels wrong to him.

aemond’s okay leaving as long as it isn’t for too long. if it ends up going over a few days, he’s automatically not looking forward to it.

he’s not clingy, but he’s gotta make sure he’s messaging you whenever possible.

cuddles — do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?

he’s big on cuddling.

if the two of you are sitting down to watch a movie, he’ll have you cuddled right into his side, as close as possible, legs intertwined and arm over your shoulder.

it makes him feel so unbelievably loved in these situations.

9 times out of 10, all he’ll want to do is cuddle you.

domestic — how domestic are they? do they want to settle down?

i can imagine aemond’s original plan is to not have any kids, mainly because his family is big enough as it is and he’s never imagined himself as a father.

the most he’ll do is get dogs, and that’s why he ends up with vhagar.

he has fatherly mannerisms around vhagar and husband mannerisms around you and that’s all you can ask for.

i can see the two of you having children one day, but it would probably be further down the line and possibly even an accident, but a happy one nonetheless!!

equal — how much effort do they put into the relationship?

aemond puts his entire body and soul into your relationship.

he knows that if he only does things in halves when you’re putting everything into it, there’s no point.

he’s constantly trying to make you smile, make you laugh, make you happy.

if you’re not one these things 99.9% of the time, he feels like he’s doing something wrong.

fiancé — how are they in an engagement?

honestly, not much changes.

like i said, aemond is already full of his husband mannerisms, so getting engaged just means you’re one step closer to having his last name.

of course, the happiness grows tenfold, and he’s more of a gentleman than ever.

now he can finally call you his fiancé when introducing you to people and it makes his heart swell.

gentle — how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

when i think of modern aemond, i think of him being shy and reserved. the trauma from his childhood when he’d lost his eye definitely equates to that, so he’s as gentle as they ever come.

he’s mainly just worried he’ll do something that makes you uncomfortable, so he’s always very careful about whether his hands are too calloused and such.

it takes you purposefully telling him that you know you’d never hurt him for him to roughen up even just a little bit.

hugs — do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?

hugger!!!

in every goddamn position this man can think of.

his favourites are the two of you facing one another, your arms around his neck and his around your waist as you face snuggles further into his neck, and his other favourite is hugging you from behind, keeping you tucked beneath him.

he’ll also find any excuse to hug you— you could be in the kitchen, and he’s suddenly wrapping you up in his arms.

i love you — how fast do they say the words?

i can see aemond taking his time to say the words. he’s vv thoughtful and introspective, so he waits until he's absolutely sure about his feelings. again, he’s not quite sure how to act around someone who he cares so much about so it’s definitely a big step for him.

when he does finally say it, i can imagine it being during a quiet & intimate moment between just the two of you, maybe you’re having a lazy day watching shitty movies. he looks over at you when you laugh during a stupid scene he just knows it for what it truly is then and there.

the sincerity in his eyes when he says i love you is definitely worth the wait.

jealousy — how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?

the jealousy definitely hits aemond despite claiming he never feels that way. and he can handle it perfectly; you’d never know that he was silently brewing in the corner when he noticed someone else eyeing you up because you looked so beautifully ravishing.

aemond sticks to him usual calm exterior, keeping all his thoughts to himself as he tries to bat away his anxieties and insecurities when he comes to the idea of losing you.

there can be times when he feels the need to intervene, sheepishly sliding his way into whatever conversation you were having and keeping his hand somewhere on you body, both as a reassurance to him and a warning to anyone else.

but once you’re home alone again, the more attentive and protective side of him makes an appearance, and you’re ashamed to admit that you do find it attractive.

there’s nothing more the two of you love than when aemond shows you how much you mean to him—kissing you passionately and worshipping your body.

of course, you make sure to talk and reassure him afterwards, because you know it’ll still be playing through his mind even after all of that.

kisses — what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?

his kisses are always so gentle and soft, deliberate. he’s savouring every single moment your mouth is on his. you’re on his mind constantly — how can he not?

aemond loves to kiss you on your forehead, bending down to reach your height, and the scrunched expression you pull out of pure happiness makes his heart leap.

he’s also a gentleman and kisses the back of your hand. he’ll hold it ever so gently and bring it to his lips, an action that is so second-hand to him now that he doesn’t realise he’s doing it most times.

oh, boy, does aemond love it when you kiss him on the neck. it sends shivers up his spine and causes his hands to curl in anticipation. his cheeks, too, especially on his scar, ever so softly. that’s one of the things you can do that makes him know for certain how much you truly care for him.

little ones — how are they around children? how many do they want?

it might be surprising to some, but aemond is surprisingly good with children. most people would take one look at him and think he must struggle around them, either because he doesn’t know what to do or because they’re scared of him.

it’s the opposite, trust me.

of course, he still has his moments when he’s initially a bit awkward and not entirely sure why they like him so much, but after having so many younger kids popping up in his family, he had no choice but to get used to them.

aemond with two kids!!! i imagine the first one being a boy, and then around 3 or so years later you have a girl <3333

he’s so very protective over your kids after the childhood he endured with the accident of losing his eye, but not to the point where it’s overbearing.

morning — how are mornings spent with them?

aemond’s a morning run type of guy. he’ll get up really early in the morning, making sure he’s not to loud to wake you.

majority of the time, when he comes home, you’ll still be dead asleep in bed. in a non-creepy way, he loves to admire the way you look, so peaceful and at ease.

you’ll want him to crawl straight back in with you but he always refuses, claiming that he needs to shower, and more often than not, you’ll join him in there.

after that, the two of you start the morning slowly, making breakfast and conversing in your tired voices.

on the off-chance aemond doesn’t do his morning run, it’s an every slower morning. you’ll be so unbelievably happy when your eyes crack open to look at the time and find him still behind you. you’ll snuggle further into his side, curling up with him and stay there for hours more.

night — how are nights spent with them?

somehow they’re even more cozy and tranquil than your mornings.

i picture the two of you either lying in your bed or on the couch, depending on your mood, you’re cocooned into his side watching tv quietly, his arm over your shoulder as he reads a book.

the quiet, intimidate moments between you are the ones you both cherish the most, the silence is always so comforting, especially if either of you have had a rough day.

open — when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait to reveal things slowly?

he’s still a gradual guy, preferring to not overload his whole entire life story at once, especially with all the bad things he’d have to get through.

aemond’s such a private person, it’s an honour if he tells you something personal to him, because you know it means he holds you in such high regards, he trusts you wholly.

he remembers the first time he’d told you something quite harrowing, expecting you to be completely shocked and not want to talk to him again. but, when it turned out to be the opposite, he’d felt such a relief, and realised from then on that he knew he could tell you anything without any judgement.

patience — how easily angered are they?

in most situations, he’s generally quite a patient guy. if something pisses him off, he’ll let it stew within himself and wait until it’s just the two of you to tell you how much it annoyed him. you’ll always listen to whatever he has to say, agreeing that the guy in question was an idiot, too.

when it comes to full-blown disrespect, however?? low tolerance for that shit.

that’s what pushes him to his limit, especially when it comes to you. someone says something completely rude to you, or even behind your back, he’s gonna have to say something.

there’s been vvv few instances where he’s not afraid to throw a punch, too, but he doesn’t like to do that.

quizzes — how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or forget everything?

oh, this man remembers every little thing about you — he’s the observer type, the listener type. your favourite movie; your favourite book; your favourite restaurant, he can name them all.

he somehow manages to remember even the little things — you’d once told him a story where you’d just briefly mentioned about how you loved to spend christmas there when you were younger; he slots that little piece of information into his mind ready to surprise you later in the year.

whenever he brings up something you mentioned (no matter how big or small), it never fails to make you feel so cherished and seen. aemond’s the only one who truly understands you like this, and it makes your heart ache every time.

remember — what is their favourite memory of you relationship?

when you met his dog, vhager, for the first time, for sure!!!

she’s absolutely precious to him, having gotten her at such a young age and growing up with her for so many years, it’s so important that the two of you get along.

so, when he saw the way she rested her head in your lap the second you got comfortable on the sofa, his heart practically exploded.

just seeing the way the two of you interacted together made him aware of how much he wanted you to be a part of his life permanently.

security — how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?

this man always keeps his eye on you in public. it’s not that he can’t trust you, he just worries and overthinks a lot of things, he doesn’t trust everyone else around you.

it can be slightly worse if your somewhere completely new to the two of you, an unfamiliar situation.

he knows and trusts you to handle yourself if you’re ever in an uncomfortable position someone has put you in, but he’ll always be ready to step in if you need him to.

aemond loves it when you get protective over his well-being. there can be days where his eye pains him so much, he feels like the entire world is against him, and the way you care for him has his heart feeling so full.

you make sure the lights are off, the curtains are closed so it’s as dark as possible, there isn’t too much noise happening around him. you make sure he’s as fed as he can be with how much he’s feeling, and you’ll always lie with him, his head snuggled into your neck as you stroke his hair.

try — how much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts?

aemond is a meticulous planner, and makes sure to think each and every tiny detail out for whatever special occasion is happening — dates, anniversaries, gifts, you name it.

each plan consists of something meaningful to the two of you, a reminder of a special time you spent together. it could be from when you first met, to when you first said the words I love you, to your first anniversary together.

it’s one of his favourite things when he surprises you with some random, thoughtful gesture. your smile is so bright, your eyes shining. aemond will truly do anything to see that expression of yours as many times as he can.

ugly — what are some bad habits of theirs?

aemond’s private — like, too private.

whenever he’s feeling something strong, something emotional, he keeps it to himself. he’ll avoid voicing those thoughts, bottling them up, and eventually, all that built-up energy is just teeming to explode. and that can lead to regretful remarks.

he might attempt to let you know what’s going on in his head, muttering quietly under his breath, hoping you’ll hear and understand what he’s trying to tell you. that doesn’t always work though, because more often than not, he’s purposely being quiet so you can’t hear him.

it’s an up-hill battle with aemond, but you find that you’re slowly starting to get through to him as each day passes together.

vanity — how concerned are they with their looks?

even as reserved as aemond is, he’s still concerned about how everyone around perceives him, about what they think in terms of his appearance.

the scar on his eye feels as though it stands out like a bright yellow beacon. so, he’ll take great care about the rest of himself so it doesn’t feel as obvious.

he’ll make sure his clothes are well-tailored, sleek but subtle — think dark turtlenecks and fitted coats, clean boots.

there may been a time where he wants to leave the eyepatch, try out sunglasses or something similar, but he’ll always go back to feeling safe.

as long as he knows that you don’t judge him for wearing it, the others won’t matter to him.

whole — would they feel incomplete without you?

you’re the one person aemond can truly be himself around — whether that’s with his feelings or not wearing his eyepatch. when you’re not around, it feels as though he’s missing something within himself.

he’s always been very selective about he lets into his life due to be so reserved, and the moment he deems you worthy of his true self, that’s pretty much the only version you’ll see of him from then on.

you’re irreplaceable to him. still, he wouldn’t outright say it, but his actions would always be enough for you — he’d grow slightly restless after too long, message you with little updates about his day and wanting to know about yours, letting his walls down whenever you’re around.

losing you would leave him feeling stranded, knowing that he’d forever struggle to find someone who understands him completely the way you do.

xtra — a random headcannon for them!!

aemond finds comfort in solitary hobbies, especially writing — poetry, journal entries, short stories.

he likes to use his words to process the emotions he finds difficult to express aloud, filled with his vulnerabilities he’ll only really show to you.

his journal is kept safely tucked away in one of his drawers & you know when you truly have him, because he’ll slowly start to share pages with you.

every now and again, it might be a poem he wrote randomly, telling you he was inspired when he saw you one morning.

even though you’ll definitely be flustered by this romantic side of him, he’s just as embarrassed about it, too.

yuck — what are some things they wouldn’t like, in general or in a partner?

in general, aemond doesn’t like loud and chaotic environments (same).

they always make him feel overwhelmed or uncomfortable.

he’ll always do his best to get out of a situation like that, but sometimes he might not be able to help it — birthday parties on either side of the families or get togethers with friends are, unfortunately for him, something that happens every now and again.

you know he won’t exactly enjoy these situations, but he’ll put up him them for you, and that makes you appreciate and love him all the more.

there’s a lot aemond wouldn’t like in partner — he’s got his standards.

similarly, aemond would struggle with anyone who likes to seek attention or thrives off of creator unnecessary drama.

he wouldn’t have any patience for dishonesty, either, finding someone lacking in basic manners.

he wouldn’t tolerate anyone who tried to push him or force him to open up more — he likes to be ready on his own terms, knowing he can trust you before he takes that next step.

and, he doesn’t like sloppiness — i can see aemond being quite particular in his appreciativeness of effort and order, whether around a space or in a person.

zzz — what are their sleep habits?

aemond can struggle to sleep. he’s to type of person who has a busy mind that’s constantly racing with thoughts and overanalysing every little thing.

so, more often than note, he might stay up reading or watching a documentary he thought might interest him.

when he eventually does manage to get to sleep, though, he’s 1000% a light sleeper. the slightly of noises will wake this man up — a creak in the house, wind against the window, you making a small sound in your sleep.

but, he would find comfort in your presence, and that’s something that does help him fall asleep, too.

unconsciously, he’d pull you closer to his body whenever he’s restless, finding your touch helps ground him, and before he knows it, he’s back to sleep again.

[mazeinthemiroh]

I have a fluffy thought about skz Hyung line, and was wondering what signs they would show when they’re in love with someone 🥺❤️ like it makes me bust an uwu thinking about them being so sweet with someone

signs stray kids would show when they're in love (hyung line)

genre: fluff + romance

word count: 0.8k

warnings: they're all simps (but yall knew that anyway 😚)

please like and reblog if you enjoy <3

bangchan

he catches himself falling for you when he's smiling like an idiot every time he receives a text from you. his dimples are on full display as he reads the simple, sweet message you sent him

he's a simp and he can't help it

with you, in person, he feels like h can relax with you and let his inner self come to life

constant conversations and speculations and rants about his favourite shows and what happened at work that day and what's the best takeaway food, etc etc... chan is very good at talking, we know this. but he feels like talking with you he is able to express himself fully and be his dorky self <3

will initiate physical contact (shyly, at first.) he's very physically affectionate and even if you're not dating, if you guys are really close friends and he has these intense feelings for you, he can't help but ask you if you're comfortable with him being physically affectionate

and when you say yes, he's bashful about it. will initiate little touches here and there, which seems to brew up an electric kind of tension. and god, does he love it

overall, the main sign that he is in love is the way he looks at you - such genuine admiration in those adoring eyes

minho

he tries to control these light, happy feelings that keep bubbling up when he sees you

but he can't. not for too long

a bashful smile, and a playful side-eye. perfect glares and jeering remarks and oh, how he loves your interactions.

in fact, he lives for them; gushing over them like he's never had a crush before. because he knew deep down this was something much more.

he's a tease - his daring nature and mocking humour mixed with his cute and awkward execution seemed to add to his charm, if that was even humanly possible. he just had it all.

but his wicked games and playful habits don't fool anyone. the tips of his ears turning red and the persistent sparkle in his eyes give him away. he's not fooling anyone.

and despite his somewhat interesting mannerisms, you tend to soften his usual harshness. he would be more sensitive to your thoughts and wants to learn about your opinions on things

he feels like he can talk forever with you because the conversation between you both flows so naturally, which is a realisation that makes his heart skips a beat

he just feels like you get him

changbin

he's subtler than the rest

and for him, 'love' is such a deep emotion. he does fall for someone easily - this someone needs to have something truly special about them in order for binnie to fall for them. after all, he knows and likes a lot of people, being the social butterfly he is

so when he is in love, he's likely to want to be around you a whole lot more

spending most if not all his time with you

inviting you out to meet his friends

he wants you to be involved in his social life, even if you are on the quieter side. he just views you as such an important person in his life that it only makes sense for him to introduce you to those he speaks so highly of

there a times were he catches himself thinking more romantically than he ever thought he would - he's captivated by your laugh, the way it lingers and hangs and ingrains itself in his heart

and soon he is not so subtle with his love for you, finding it so incredibly easy to compliment you on everything you do. he praises you even when you don't deem yourself worthy of praise

he's a very happy man indeed

hyunjin

he has tunnel vision

it seems you are the only one who matters to him. yes, you're the only one he sees in a crowded room. yes, you're the only one whose opinions matter to him

he wants to be close with you and only you - and he actively seeks out that closeness

you fascinate him immensely. your thoughts, feelings, speculations on life, opinions on death - the whole package, that's what he wants to know. so if he asks you questions upon questions, it's because he is interested, and could listen to you talk for ages

enthralled by your beauty, your life, your approach to people around you

maybe he romanticises things too much with his pages of poetry about the pattern in your eyes

or the watercolours he paints, attempting to capture the curves in your face, the tone of your skin he's addicted to, the body he can't help but trail his eyes over when he sees you

but he's frustrated as he writes and paints because he knows it won't be the same. it doesn't capture the perfectness that is you.

skz taglist: @hearts4sungie, @seokshineswiftie, @alyszaen, @jtrstp, @a-wandering-stay, @hyungenie5, @anyamaris, @acciocriativity, @chammak-challokys

[moodymisty]

Could you please write something with Sevatar? That man needs to get slapped around uwu

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: Wearing a shirt that says 'Number 1 Jago Sevatarion whore' on it: Yeah I'm normal.

Summary: Jago Sevatarion really likes one of the Salamander's humans.

Relationships: Jago "Sevatar" Sevatarion/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Vague references to NSFW, The consent is dubious so tw dubcon, Violence, Stalking, Predator/Prey kinda dynamics, General 40kness, Stockholm syndrome?, Kinda Yandere maybe?, If you don't know what you're getting into reading this then I dunno what to fucking tell you like it's a Night Lord I can only woobify him so much

Word Count: 1140

It has been tense as of late, to say the least. As much as that word fails to illustrate in context, it's the only one you can think of to use.

To have Night Lords present has been nothing but a battle to keep tensions low enough in order to keep things productive, and to avoid fights between the Astartes from breaking out at seemingly every opportunity. These fights can be between the apposing legions, or even just between the Eighth themselves.

It doesn't help that the Night Lords are often times seen baiting them- taunting barking goading a Salamander to throw the first punch. They seem to crave it, most of them.

Every baseline human aboard has done everything within their power to avoid crossing paths with Astartes in deep blue armor, adorned with smatterings of blood red. Particularly when not in sight of a Salamander. There has been more than a few times where a serf or other baseline human has managed to scurry into sanctuary within a Salamander's line of sight, and in the distance a Night Lord prowls; Discontent with his prey, or toy perhaps, finding safety in the light. They will soon after find something else to occupy their time, leaving the human no longer needing to look over their shoulder. But only for the moment.

You don't have that option. Because not only have you already gotten caught, the one that caught you is smart.

He knows where you would try to hide, every single little rat hole you could try and squeeze yourself in, and he knows that even if you did flee to one of your massive protectors, he would put up a far stronger fight than any of the other Night Lords. His persistence alone sets him apart. Why did he pick you? Out of so many, why you?

It's like being hunted. But not the chase; The conclusion, when the predator decides to bat around it's prey like a toy as it squeals, begging for a mercy it won't receive.

If you screamed, would someone come? Would they be able to free you from him, or would he simply kill them and have you all alone again?

But why won't the scream leave your throat? It's like he's choking you with just his presence.

You can hear ceramite plates grind against each other as he shifts in his armor, the hissing of it's mechanics left hand pinning your right arm against the wall. It hurts bad, it'll surely be bruised and aching, radiating pain as a remnant and reminder that this isn't some sort of horrid nightmare.

He finally caught you. After so long of managing to evade the massive Astartes, him stalking the shadows outside of your safety and watching you with those void black eyes like you have something he wants, he finally sank his claws in you. He'd been toying with you for what felt like weeks, swimming around you and trying to reach out and grab only for you to pull away, and he'd laugh. Call you little. Say your name that he'd stolen after overhearing it in a way that had you swallowing a knot deep in your throat. You could only avoid it so long- for every step you took away, took he took two closer.

Many of the Astartes are currently having their five hours of designated rest- there is no one to save you in this particular hall save for the rare guard.

His other hand grips your jaw, making sure your face can't turn away from him. Your free hand paws at his wrist, and each time your fingers slip off the armor despite trying to latch onto the seams you can see the amusement cast on his face.

Is it because he likes the way your hand is too small to grip, unable to fight against someone so much larger, unfathomably stronger, or because you're squirming like sweet prey under his pitch black gaze?

You just wish he'd get on with it. To stop toying with you, making your heart pound against your ribcage. To make your skin so hot that it travels up your neck as if moving to choke you. Fear swallows you in a way that makes you freeze- even if he hadn't been holding you, you doubt you could call on your legs to run and not fall right over to your knees.

He's never gotten this close before.

His lips brush against yours like the touch of a ghost, his breath boiling hot on your skin. You can just feel the rough skin of the scar that rips across the right side of his mouth, warping the skin. It's one of many that decorate what little skin of his is visible. When he shifts, you can hear his helm hit his thigh plate from where it's attached to his belt.

"Well?"

He's so close you can barely see his eyes, and you don't want to. When ever he looks at you if feels like he's piercing you to the wall. His dark eyes and slicked black hair contrast with the paleness of his complexion, as he watches your every move.

"I can smell that fear on you."

His words lay over you like a hot, rough blanket.

"But don't think I'm stupid enough to not smell something else."

He's not gentle- neither with his words or the way his hands grip your arms pressing against the wall. Is this a part of the Madness of the Eighth that seems to hang over their legion? To just want and to take? You know that the Astartes always can with their raw power, but you're so used to the Salamanders and their stoic kindness.

It's your obvious, first thought to try and free yourself, or call for the help of someone not asleep. Though a second thought crosses moments later.

You know you shouldn't do it; He's going to eat you up and spit you out once he's done.

But you're an idiot. One with no options and that finds themselves almost drawn into the black hole that is him.

"W-What is your name?"

He's never said it, and you've never dared ask it to anyone. You feared that once you did, that you'd put yourself deeper into his grip like stepping into a bog- fighting but only sinking farther.

He laughs. Deep, and its gravel hits you in the gut.

"I am Jago Sevatarion."

His exhale smooths over your skin like hot steam; Rough lips once again scraping over yours in an almost kiss. His voice is heavy on your chest, he's not even yelling and it's loud, deep and makes the back of your neck tense. The cold metal of his power armor presses against the skin of your jaw.

"You can call me Sevatar."

[pinejayy]

Yanderes Howdy and Wally (( maybe poly if you want or a Yanderes competition?? You name it!! )) with a reader oblivious to their love and obsession please I need this

Thank you for your request!! uwu I hope you enjoy this, have a great day!

Tough love (Wally Darling x reader x Howdy Headcanons)

It was hard for both Wally and Howdy to share you. They both wanted you to their selves . But they came to an agreement that they would share you. But that didn’t stop them from fighting over you and your love. They wanted to be your number 1 and of course you didn’t notice this as you were happy that you had two boyfriends.

They both really did care about you, but they couldn’t stand each other, but they always behave when they are around you.

When you’re hanging out with them it’s always so romantic. Wally is more of the possessive kind of lover while Howdy is more gentle and sweet. But you loved both of them.

Sometimes they would fight in front of you, like who’s turn is it to cuddle you. Or who house you’re gonna stay at for the night. It can get overwhelming seeing them fight for you. You didn’t understand why they couldn’t get along.

Sometimes their fights would be so bad that they would get physical with each other causing you to cry out and leave the room. This would immediately stop them and run after you. Pushing their childish rivalry aside. And depending on how bad the fight was you forgive them or ask for some space.

Both lovers are always bringing you gifts and treats. But both are very different with their gifts and treats.

Honestly you’re just lucky to have these two as your boyfriends but you wish they wouldn’t fight as much.

Like I said both boyfriends are different, they show their love and affection in different ways. They act different from each other and treat you differently as well.

With Howdy

Howdy is more of the gentle lover, he loves to hold you against his body. And he gives great cuddles considering he has four arms to hold you. He absolutely loves kissing you all over your face.

He loves buying you fruit baskets and he also loves making arts and crafts with you. When you spend the day with him that’s what you guys do in his free time. But when you’re with him you usually help him around his store. He loves calling you his “big strong girl/boy”

Is always telling your how beautiful/handsome you are. How lucky he is to have you as his.

You feel safe with Howdy, considering how tall he is. You feel like nothing could hurt you when you’re around him. He’ll always protect you no matter what.

Howdy loves cracking up jokes with you, he’s always making you laugh and he loves hearing you laugh it gives butterflies in his stomach.

But Howdy can’t help it get jealous when you’re with Wally. Why can’t you just be with him? Why does he have to in the picture, but since Wally makes you happy he isn’t going to do anything too drastic. He’ll just wait for the prefect moment to make you his and his only.

With Wally Darling

Wally is more of the possessive and aggressive lover. He wants the attention on him and him only! He gets very jealous. He tends to snap at you more if he isn’t getting enough attention.

But he really does love you and when he does snap at you he always makes sure he apologize to you. Wally just really cares about you and he just wants attention all the time. He tends to get more clingy as well. Like he never wants to let go of you. He always wants to hold you.

Wally loves telling you pick up lines. He loves seeing your reaction. “Your sweet to the core” or “You’re the apple of my eye”

Both you and Wally love to paint, you guys could paint for hours. And his favorite thing is that he loves painting portraits of you. He loves to capture your beautiful.

Both of you love making Apple Pies together! It’s always so much fun and also romantic. You love throwing flour at each other.

Wally does wish you were only his, Howdy is just getting in the way. Well getting in his way to be more exact, he wishes that he could just disappear…Wally could make him go away for a long time but he doesn’t want to risk losing you or making you upset. So for now he’ll just behave.

[watcher-etern-sealedaway]

for mwarch: Skizzpulse 20? secret relationship skizzpulse will save me :3

teehee yesyes i will oblige very much so

i loved writing this so much and may write more with this dynamic uwu :3 I HOPE U LIKE IT AS MUCH AS I LOVED WRITING IT

PRONOUNS imp: he/him/his/himself | ce/cir/cirs/cirself | te/tyr/tyrs/tymself skizz: he/him/his/himself | ey/em/eir/emself | ae/aer/aers/aerself

word count: 786 (holy shit i entered a fugue state what happened)

~~~~~

Impulse hooked one of the window slats on his claw and peeked down into the streets. The city was completely quiet at night. Bdubs was nowhere to be found and few seldom visited this late.

A bright white flash streaked through the sky and landed gingerly on the sidewalk. The figure was lightly luminescent, looking around the streets and then down at a piece of paper they held in their hands.

It took a while for them to find the place indicated on the paper. They slipped into the door at the bottom of the building Impulse watched from.

Impulse's pointed tail flicked back and forth in excitement as ce waited. A few minutes later, the door to the small apartment opened a crack and a soft white light streamed through.

"Imp? Ya in here bud?" Skizz asked from behind the door.

Impulse couldn't help but let out a deep purr at the sound of aers voice. He pulled the door fully open and swung his arms around Skizz.

Skizz laughed as ey stumbled back against the weight of eir partner, "Woah there, I haven't even stepped in the door!" Ey fluttered their glowing wings.

Impulse hung with tys arms around Skizz's neck, "I missed you," te said with a faux-pout. "We haven't gotten to be together in so long."

Skizz ran his hands through Impulse's hair, settling his fingers around cir horn. A contented rumble escaped cir throat as Skizz nuzzled into cir hair. Skizz's ordinarily silent aura shimmered faintly into view and emanated a happy thrum.

"Finally alone, though. No one around to find us out," Skizz said.

Impulse grabbed Skizz's hands and pulled aer across the room. Impulse flopped over the side arm of the couch, dragging Skizz over the edge with him.

Skizz yelled as ey went tumbling on top of Impulse, landing with a thud. Impulse grunted with a smile on cir face, laughing with Skizz.

Skizz's wings came to rest over both of them. They stared into each other's eyes, blanketed in Skizz's soft angelic light. The world outside the window wasn't important. Not when they had each other's eyes.

Vibrant azure. Shimmering gold.

Impulse raised his hand to Skizz's face, tracing a line down from aers temple to aers cheek. Pressing his claw against aers skin with just enough force to make Skizz melt.

Skizz sank into Impulse and met his lips to tyrs. Impulse was warm, hot even, in a way Skizz never felt except when he was with tyr.

Impulse threaded cirs hand through Skizz's hair and pulled em deeper into the kiss. Eir lips were cool, freezing even, in a way Impulse never felt except when ce was with em.

They eased into each other's touch. Every time, it was a slight shock to feel just how opposite they were. Every time, it got easier to give in. It got easier for Skizz to submit to Impulse's warmth, it got easier for Impulse to embrace Skizz's chill.

The kiss felt like it lasted for hours. The only light in the room was emanating from Skizz's wings, which had wrapped around Impulse. Impulse responded in kind, tangling cirs tail around Skizz's leg.

The only sound in the room was Impulse's demonic purrs and the faint pleased hum of Skizz's angelic aura.

That is until there was a knock at the door. Impulse and Skizz instantly separated, staring at each other with wide-open panicked eyes.

"Where do I go???" Skizz whispered urgently, jumping to eir feet.

"Uhh.. Uhm," Impulse looked around as ce stood up off of the couch.

"I thought no one would know about this place!" Skizz said.

The knock came again. Impulse's heart started beating out of tyrs chest.

"Just stay behind the door!" Impulse said.

Skizz stood flat against the wall, aers aura going silent but aer wings growing in brightness.

Impulse swung open the door, "Gem! Heyy.. What's up?"

Gem's ears flapped, "Was just going by on my nighttime flight... And thought I'd ask you if you could help me with a redstone thingy in the morning," Fae said.

"Oh! Yeah, uh- Sure thing!" Impulse replied with an awkward chuckle.

"Were you talking to someone?" Gem raised faer eyebrow while fae looked around in the apartment.

"Nope! Just me haha! I come up here when I need some peace and quiet," Impulse said, a bit louder than te intended.

Gem's eyes fell on the gap between the door and the carpet, where Skizz's light was peeking through. Her expression dropped into a smug look, "Alright, Impulse. You have fun being alone with your peace and quiet," She chuckled and left.

Impulse closed the door, revealing Skizz staring at him.

"So fae..."

"Yup."

"And fae's going to..."

"Probably."

"We are never going to live this down, Dippledop."

"Just shut up and kiss me again."

~~~~~

the intention is that gem is going to mercilessly tease them, not out their relationship before they're ready

[dabislittlemouse]

Hi, congratulations again on 2k!!! 🎉

For the event, maybe something along the lines of Dabi+ Reader fluff - "I know you've always got my back, Doll." If you don't mind 🙏🩷

Thank you 🩵

Thank you so much uwu hope you enjoy this <3

“𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒂��𝒌 𝒅𝒐𝒍𝒍..” (sfw)

2K FOLLOWERS EVENT

It had been quite a hassle to get where the League was now; in Re-Destro’s mansion, enjoying some fine sushi and relaxing on the comfortable couches. After Shigaraki had beaten Re-Destro and taken control of the entire PLF Army, things were easier for all of you now that you finally had a roof on your heads and some food to fill your stomach without risking to get supplies and getting caught by heroes.

As you were enjoying your sushi with the others, Dabi was the only one who refused to eat and simply headed to the balcony. Dabi had always been a picky eater, he’d rather starve to death than eat anything fish related. A cigarette would do him perfectly fine that evening, not that he was really hungry in the first place. After finishing your sushi, you decided to join him too. The night was peaceful as always, quiet, a chilly breeze blowing outside that had you shiver. Winter was coming soon.

“I hope ya didn’t come here to convince me to eat dinner like you usually do” Dabi said casually, puffing smoke out of his mouth.

“Nah I’ve given up on that. Your head is as hard as a rock” you shrugged and he chuckled. You sat next to him, he offered you a smoke but you refused. The both of you sat in silence for a while, your mind mostly lost in the recent events with the new allies.

“I can’t believe you got in one team with that icy freak” you suddenly said, catching his attention. You remembered how hard Dabi fought against Geten back then, and how much the guy got in your nerves.

“Hm? You jealous we didn’t end up together?” he smirked playfully and you hit him in the shoulder, giving him a glare.

“Chill, just joking” he laughed. “Damn.. the ice bastard is actually good in many aspects, Shigaraki saw it fit to lead the Violet regiment with him. Anyway..” he sighed. “Seems like you hold quite the grudge against him doll..”

“It’s not a grudge” you replied. “It’s just that.. Geten is so annoying. Remember how he acted in the battlefield? Underestimating you and constantly trying to put you down with his words, implying that you’re weak. Who even is he to decide if someone is weak or strong? I mean yes, your quirk might have the side effect to harm your body, but that does not mean you are weak! Your flames were so powerful he had to flee. And I don’t see how a guy like him can be fit to be a lieutenant, isn’t he too young and immature for that? Especially after he disrespected you like this, and honestly I-"

You stopped your angry rambling the moment you noticed Dabi looking at you. His pupils dilated, he had the softest look in his eyes while he stared at you longingly, a slight smile on his face. You always had the tendency to get angrier and ready to fight whenever your beloved people were treated like shit by others. Even if it was just a small offensive word. And specifically for Dabi, he had such special place in your heart that you would allow nobody to act like a smartass and fuck around with him. You knew how much Dabi resented his quirk’s disadvantages, and you didn’t want anybody to deepen his insecurities about himself.

“W-What? Don’t look at me like that! ” you pouted, face flushing in embarrassment as he laughed, his hand coming to pinch your cheek playfully.

“I’ve never seen someone be this protective over me, doll. Don’t worry, that bastard’s words don’t mean shit to me”

“Yes but I still hate it when others talk bad about you” you murmured and he gave you a kiss on the forehead, bringing you closer to him. Your chest fluttered from millions of emotions.

“Aren’t I the luckiest fucker out there?” he said, caressing your hair. “I know you’ve always got my back doll..”

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Spoiling You With All My Might -- Comte Collection Story Translation

I've been meaning to post this one for a while, as it's honestly in my top ten Comte events of all time. For this Collection story event, it was basically all the suitors comforting MC when she's stressed/tired/overworked. And lbr, who doesn't need that in their life?

Enjoy everyone, and just a reminder that I'm no professional--I just translate these for my own enjoyment. Without further ado:

In the early afternoon, when the hands on the clock are pointing to 3pm-- I was alone drinking tea in a quiet kitchen. (I’ve been busy lately…I think I’m a little burnt out.) My cup of tea was already empty, but somehow I didn’t have the energy to stand up-- Comte: MC, are you taking a break? Turning around revealed Comte standing in the middle of the doorway.

Okay but like. I gotta say just the thought of him peeking around the corner is killing me, he's the cutest man alive I swear

But also. Now I'm wondering if he's lowkey like IS IT MEOW MEOW TIME? MEOW MEOW T I M E!!!!!! pounces on the opportunity for quality time. Somehow that's even more adorable I'm going to explode from uwus

MC: Indeed I am. Would you like to have some tea, too? Comte: That’s an attractive invitation, but if you don’t mind, would you spend some time with me for a little while after this? MC: Go out with you…? Comte: I’m thinking of going for a walk. Would you like to join me? His hand was outstretched in a gentlemanly gesture that touched/eased my heart. MC: Haha, I’d love to.

I laughed a little at this because I'm definitely the kind of person that's like "omg pls, you are not beating the silly goose allegations!!!" over him being all suave over a walk together but. At the same time. HEART EYES M-- King of romantics everywhere. Gentleman of my heart. Mellifluous seducer have MERCY

More under the cut!

Comte’s escort led me to a forest a short walking distance from the mansion. As I walk alongside him, the sunbeams penetrate through the trees as they sway with the breeze. Comte: The weather is lovely today, making it a perfect occasion for a walk. MC: You’re right…the wind feels nice, too. As I walked slowly listening to the rustling trees, I could feel the fatigue/tension draining out of me little by little. (It feels like my heart is being cleansed. It’s so soothing…) Comte: … It was then that I noticed Comte gazing at me calmly.

As somebody who used to be plus ultra literally every minute of my life, this made me so softe inside. The way he cares so much about her ;-; he really said "I will die before I disrespect a girlboss, but also. I am here. For to help PLS. Also a crumb of attention...p l swleseskje...."

(Ah…by any chance) MC: Comte Comte: Yes? MC: …You invited me out for a change of pace, didn’t you? Comte smiled softly at my words. Comte: I just wanted to take a walk with you like this.

I do love how, especially in recent events, MC notices his gestures more and more 🥺💛💛💛💛💛💛 I think it's really cute that he wants to be sneaky sweet and supportive, and whenever she realizes it he's like. C'est moi? You're not fooling anyone pretty boy!!! I know you have brain cells up there!!! But also the sincerity in that last line, of how he really does also just want to spend some time with her. How he's always saying the most wonderful thing she can give him is her time.

Just put my body out to sea I can't do this anymore--

I was enveloped in the sound of his voice, warming my heart, and my feet stopped involuntarily. Comte: MC? MC: Every time you treat me so kindly like this…I’m so happy I could cry Jokingly, Comte turned around and spread his coat. Comte: If you want to do so, that’s okay too MC: Huh… Comte: After all, there is no one here but us. If you want to cry, you can cry. Comte wrapped me gently in his open coat and murmured in my ear. Comte: Like this, there will be no trace of tears left behind. MC: Oh… (It’s okay to cry…that’s not something you hear very often when you’re fully grown.) (Just hearing him say that in such a sweet voice makes my heart feel lighter…) (Comte really is amazing)

Honestly this part just made me melt, I have no words--I'm down bad fellas. We love a man who encourages his partner that its safe to be vulnerable 😭🙏🏼

But also I feel the need to say. Comte don't offer this to me because from that point on I will live in your coat. It will no longer be 'Comte's nice coat,' but rather:

MC: Thank you. But…Aren’t you spoiling me too much? When I looked up and asked him, he leaned over to drop a kiss to my forehead… MC: Oh… Comte: I see. I think I don’t spoil you enough. Comte’s long fingers reached out to wipe my eyes gently. Comte: MC, I love everything about you. Comte: Your fatigue and your tears, don’t forget that it’s my privilege to soothe them with these hands. He gazes deeply into my eyes, and I can’t help how my heart races in response.

So like. Do you ever just cry and die. Because.

I'm like somewhere between "WE GOT A 2319!!!!!!!!!" and inches from professing my eternal love and loyalty like some kind of lovelorn knight too afraid to even touch the radiance of their beloved. Comte how on earth am I supposed to look at you without being blinded. Sun that's too bright!!!!! That's too b r i g h t!

I just. "Your fatigue and your tears, don’t forget that it’s my privilege to soothe them with these hands." [muffled wailing noises] Did I ASK--

Mfer out here like 'oh the terrible fate of being tied to me for eternity' meanwhile every second of being with him is either dizzyingly passionate or like being wrapped up in the warmest, fluffiest blankie imaginable. I HAVE TO S T A N SIR--

MC: Ah, if you spoil me so much, I’m afraid I won’t be able to do anything on my own anymore. Comte smiled a little as I laughed deceptively in the hopes of hiding how delighted I was. Comte: That’s great. I’d love to see that, myself. The fingers that had been stroking my eyes slipped down my cheek to touch my lips. Comte: If you can’t manage to walk alone--I’ll be there to hold you up, and walk alongside you. His sweet whisper ends when his lips gently cover mine. MC: Mn… In the midst of his enveloping kiss, I gently entrusted my body to the person dearest to me--

Can I just ?????? Say????? How much I love MC being teasing/catty with him as the events go on. I LOVE it here. I think I really like how she grows into her own strength, and how she feels comfortable expressing her shyness without ceding that integrity. One thing I've noticed that I love in relationships is this ability to air grievances in a playful way, where the stakes are low--but the person can still express their feelings and be comforted. I think I like how it's not about putting pressure on the person, but getting it out in the open and resolved all the same. It just fills me with warm fuzzies c:

Also. "If you can’t manage to walk alone--I’ll be there to hold you up, and walk alongside you." Like not to beat a dead horse, but wow. Pretty sure this metaphysically changed me as a person. Thanks, I will never be the same. True love exists, [unhinged barking noises], etc etc

[zerobaseonefics]

BLOOMING DAY

blooming day . . . day eight

note . . . ok yes i'm late but aren't we used to this????? the chapter is long tho hope you guys will like it <3

taglist open <3 (if you want me to add you, send an ask so i can make sure i saw it!!) . . . @cherriegyu @kpoprhia @vhshyk @hikyeom @mins-fins @juyomiao @dwcljh @invuwrld @beomibeom @sulkygyu @lycheae @huipinkhair @luvseok1e @haesunflower @big-uwu-stan @harus-simp @zhounauts @jiaant11 @articxari @jebiwon @mashihope @taerrrrrae @ilovechanhee @ahnneyong @seok02 @honghongbri @justemalove @mposkyje @zhanghaoed @ihrtgw @partiallyderived @hanbinzfile

previous day | masterlist | next day

. . . ᥫ᭡ . . .

it was around 9pm, and hanbin went to the laundromat near his apartment to do his laundry. sitting on one of the chairs there, he was texting with the boys. however, the sound of the door opening to let someone enter the laundromat made him lose his focus on his phone.

your face hidden by the pile of clothes in your laundry basket, hanbin didn't realize at first that it was you. you knew someone was there, so you politely greeted hanbin without knowing it was him. as your back was turned on him, you heard him greet you back.

hanbin didn't recognize your voice, but it still felt familiar to him. who could it be? his traits changed to a intrigued expression as he looked at you putting your clothes in the washing machine, waiting for you to turn around so he could see your face. he looked at you fighting to make all your clothes fit in the washer, closing abruptly the door so they wouldn't all fall back to you. you sighed in relief seeing you succeed in putting everything in and started the cycle of washing. a small smile crept onto hanbin's face while he was watching the scene he found funny. you stretched a bit before turning around to face him, and your emotionless expression changed to a surprised one.

"hanbin?"

"y/n."

"why are you following me?"

"....i was there ten minutes before you."

your fingers went to pinch the bridge of your nose in despair. can't you catch a break? why did you have to find him here?

"are you here for a long time?"

"well, i have two machines to do since i didn't force my clothes into the washer like you did when i saw i had too much."

you whined loudly and hanbin couldn't help but scoff at your reaction. the place was designed in a way where there were machines against the wall where you were, and machines in the middle of the room, making a line.

you tried to get it together quickly when heard him laugh at you, and you coughed to clear your voice.

"look. i'm on this side of the room, and you're on the other side. okay?" you pointed the line of machines in the middle of the room. "this is the line you cannot cross, you stay where you are and i stay where i am."

"what will you do if i cross the line?"

"i'll put your head in the washing machine and drown you with lye".

a silence fell on the two of you, looking at each other dead in the eye, when you coughed for the second time to break the silence. you turned your back to face your washing machine. in the glass of the machine, you could see him get up from his chair and make his way to the border you claimed. he leaned on one of the washing machines of the border, looking at you.

"how was your day?" he said out of the blue.

"not your problem."

"and what are you doing tomorrow?"

"going on a date." you said, turning to face him.

"yeah? with who?"

"park hanbin."

hanbin chewed on the inside of his cheek, not knowing what to answer. he didn't expect this at all.

"so... you're going to stop hitting on me now?" you asked.

"why would i?"

"because it's obvious i'm interested in someone else and my feelings seem to be reciprocated."

"is he your boyfriend?"

you furrowed your eyebrows at his question, now you were the one who didn't expect it. you sat on the machine next to yours and crossed your arms against your chest.

"he's not my boyfriend yet but what does this change?"

"if he's not your boyfriend then i'm not doing anything wrong by liking you. plus, if i'm being honest, i kinda regret asking you out that day."

"uhm? why?"

"because i realized i don't know you that much, and you don't know me either."

the sound of hanbin's machine signaling that the cycle was finished made you both jump in surprise. hanbin let a small laugh as he went to take care of his clothes. you two stopped talking, but you were curious about what he said.

"so what does it mean?" you started the conversation again.

"what?" he replied, not looking at you, too busy doing his laundry.

"you said you regretted because we don't know each other much. does that mean you're giving up on me?"

"it means what it means. i just want to get to know you, and see where it takes us. i'd love being friends with you."

would it be that bad to get to know him? sure, you had a whole list of things that made you dislike him. but there were nothing more than assumptions, none of the reasons were well-founded accusations. just the way he liked you without knowing you, you disliked him without knowing him. don't blame yourself because absolutly everyone does that anyways... but you were wondering now. why does everyone like him that much? were you the problem or is everyone else the problem but you? that's how you started questioning yourself. with dumb thoughts. minutes passed by and it was now your washing cycle that came to an end. you took your clothes in silent, putting them back in your basket. without a word, you made your way to the door, and before leaving, you turned to hanbin.

"do you live nearby?" the question surprised him as he focused on you. "yes?" he said in confusion.

"do you come here often?" you asked one more question. "yeah, like, every tuesday. but i couldn't this week so that's why i'm here on a friday tonight."

hanbin looked at you, obvious anticipation in his eyes as he was waiting to see if you were going to say something more.

"i'm here every friday. if you want us to get to know each other, come every friday. good night."

without letting him react to your words, you opened the door and left.

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 344. brb x oc

a/n: short one, sorrry. tumblr kinda drained me tonight (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

/316/317/318/319/320/321/322/323/324/325/326/327/328/329/330/331/332/333/334/335/336/337/338/339/340/341/342/343

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-

She’s lying in bed with the pillow under her foot as Rooster turns the bathroom light off, rubbing his damp hair with a towel before tossing it into the hamper with his sweatpants low on his hips, hip bones showing and smile brightening when he sees she’s still awake, “Hey.” he coos, slowly crawling on the bed and lying on his stomach next to Bea, “Thought you’d be asleep, is your ankle hurting?”

Beatrice turned her gaze toward Rooster, a soft smile playing on her lips as he settled beside her. "Hey," she greeted, the fatigue evident in her eyes but warmth still present in her voice. "I thought I'd wait up for you."

Rooster grinned, his fingers reaching out to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "I'm glad you did. How's the ankle feeling?"

She shifted slightly, wincing just a bit. "Better, thanks to you. The ice and the rest did wonders."

He leaned down, planting a tender kiss on her forehead. "Good to hear. You've got to take care of yourself, you know."

"Well, I do like having you here doing that too…" She reached out, running her fingers through his damp hair. "How was your shower?"

"Refreshing," he replied, his eyes flickering with contentment. "I needed that after a long day."

“You could’ve let me help with some things.” she whispered, lying on her side with care, making sure she doesn’t hurt herself even more, supporting her cheek on her arm so she could look at him better “I could dry stuff up.”

Rooster grinned, propping himself up on his elbow to be closer to Beatrice. "You know, I wouldn't mind a little assistance. Could use some help with the hard-to-reach spots, you know?"

Beatrice chuckled, her eyes gleaming. "Oh, is that so? Well, it just so happens that I'm an expert at hard-to-reach spots."

Rooster raised an eyebrow, "Is that a fact? Well, in that case, I might need your expert services."

She laughed, teasing him with a coy smile and poking his chest. "You'll have to earn it, LC."

Rooster pretended to look offended. "Earn it? What happened to unconditional love and support?"

"Unconditional love, yes. But as for support, I might need some proof of your commitment to the cause."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. "Proof, huh? I think I can provide that."

Their kiss was tender,a giggle escaping her lips as he wraps his arms around her waist. As they pulled away, Beatrice traced her fingers along the line of his jaw. "You're impossible," she said, her voice soft but filled with affection.

Rooster grinned, giving her a quick peck on the nose. "Guilty as charged."

They lay there for a moment, the room filled with a comfortable silence. The only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle of the sheets. Beatrice's gaze drifted to the photos adorning the walls, the ones she could see from the bedroom that is, the ones on the hallway.

"Roos," she began, her tone thoughtful, "do you ever look at these pictures and just... marvel at how far we've come?"

Rooster followed her gaze, his eyes scanning the images that told the story of their journey over his shoulder. "Yeah, I do.” he chuckles “ Sometimes it feels like a dream, you know?."

She nodded, a soft smile gracing her lips. "It's crazy to think about where we started. Back then I never imagined we'd build this life together." she whispers, drawing shapes on his bare chest and sighing quietly, “...I am very thankful.” she says, “For you, you know?”

Rooster shifted, turning to face her fully, his expression softening with affection. "I feel the same way, Bea. To be honest, I’ll never not thank whatever deity is responsible for making me go to the Hard Deck that night."

She smiled, her fingers continuing their gentle exploration on his chest. "I'm grateful that our paths crossed." she chuckles, “Sounds cheesy, doesn’t it?”

Rooster snorted, his eyes tracing the curves of her face. "’S not, it’s sweet. You are sweet…. Sometimes I still wonder what I did to deserve you."

"You just had to be you, Roos. That was more than enough."

He grinned, his fingers tracing circles on her arm. "Well, then I count my blessings every day." he says, “Because holy shit am I lucky. I’m very lucky.” he says and then holds his head up with a hand, “...I’m just…satisfied. With life.” he pauses, “...when I was younger, when my mom started to get sick, fuck– I wanted to do everything so fast.”

Fast hours.

Fast fights.

Fast relationships.

“Now I…I like this slow tempo.” he mutters, “And it feels unreal at the same time, like i’m floating around.” he hums, still rubbing her arm, “...and I’ll be promoted in a few weeks and I still feel like time is moving slow and it doesn’t bother me.”

Beatrice listened to Rooster's reflection, her fingers now tracing absent-minded patterns on his skin.  She smiled, her heart swelling with love for the man beside her. "I like this slow tempo too, Roos. It gives us time to appreciate the little things—the quiet mornings, the laughter of our kids, and the simple joy of being together."

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Exactly. And I don't mind floating around in this unreal happiness with you."

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You are so cute.” she giggles, “Stop it.”

And he just smirked, “I shan’t.” he kisses her cheek over and over, ‘I’m going to keep doing it because I love your reactions.”

Beatrice laughed, the sound ringing in the room like a melody. "Well, if that's your secret plan, Roos, then consider it a success. You've got the magic touch."

Rooster grinned, twirling one of her strands on his index finger. "Magic touch, huh? I like the sound of that. Maybe I should patent it." He continued to pepper her face with kisses, his touch light and affectionate. "Anything for you, gorgeous. You're my priority, always."

She laughs softly,hugging his neck but Beatrice couldn't help but reflect on the journey that led them to this moment—filled with twists, turns,...too many if you asked her.

"Do you ever think about the 'what-ifs'?" she asked, her tone turning thoughtful.

Rooster paused, his lips still lingering on her cheek. "What-ifs? Like, what if we hadn't met?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "or” she shrugs “what if we made different choices along the way?"

He hummed, deep in thought, deep voice vibrating in his throat . "I try not to dwell on the 'what-ifs.' I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Beatrice smiled, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his back. "I feel the same way. Sometimes I wonder about the alternate realities where we didn't cross paths, but then I realize how grateful I am for our reality." she frowns, “Am I making sense?”

“You are.” he shifted, hugging her close . "It was fate, then?"

She shrugged,pursing her lips. "Well,according to my aunt, yes.” she laughs softly, “She did say we were intertwined, meant to meet, meant to be together.” she mutters, “...feels crazy sometimes I guess.” her eyes turn to meet his "I never thought I'd find someone who completes me in the way you do," she whispered, her voice filled with sincerity.

Rooster's eyes softened, a warmth spreading across his features. on his cheeks especially and his eyes squeezed when he smiled. "You gonna make me blush,gorgeous.” he whispers “That’s so romantic. You're the missing piece I never knew I needed."

Beatrice blushed, a soft pink tinting her cheeks. "Smooth talker. Is that your secret Navy training?"

Rooster feigned innocence, a playful glint in his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about. Must be the natural charm."

She laughed, a melodic sound that filled the room. "I can't argue with that." 

“Alright, now,” and he sits on the bed, “Let’s check your ankle, come on, before we both fall asleep.”Rooster gently guided Beatrice to sit at the edge of the bed, his hands supporting her as she settled comfortably. He retrieved the ice pack from her ankle, checking the swelling and gently massaging the affected area.

"How's it feeling now?" he inquired, his gaze filled with concern.

Beatrice sighed, leaning back against the headboard. "Better, actually. Your magical touch seems to be working wonders."

He grinned, his fingers lightly tracing patterns around her ankle. "Well, you know, Navy secret techniques." 

Beatrice couldn't help but chuckle. " Do I get a certificate for being your favorite patient?" she teased.

Rooster pretended to ponder this, rubbing his chin with his brows furrowed. "Hmm, I'll have to check the Navy rulebook on that one. But I think you've earned a special mention at least." she winces when he rolls it a bit, and he gave her a sympathetic look, his touch gentle. "Sorry about that. Just checking the flexibility. Not too bad, I hope?"

Beatrice smiled through the mild discomfort, wincing more. "No need to apologize. It's a little sore, but I can handle it. It’s not as bad as before.”

He chuckled, giving her a reassuring squeeze on the thigh. "Good to know. We'll have you back on your feet in no time." he pauses, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“You sure you are up for the game?” he asks quietly, “I know it’s not as bad but you hurt the same ankle before, gorgeous…you sure you’ll be okay to jump around and leap down if you have to?”

"I want to play, Roos," she said, her voice steady. "I miss it, I miss the girls too..Besides, it's been years since we played together, and I don't want to miss the chance."

Rooster studied her face, his gaze searching for any signs of reluctance. "I know gorgeous, and I want you to enjoy the game. But I also don't want you pushing yourself too hard. Your health comes first."

She nodded, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze. "I promise I'll be careful, Roos. I won't do anything that might jeopardize my ankle. It's just a friendly game, after all."

He sighed, his concern evident. "Just don't hesitate to sit out if it starts hurting too much. Your well-being is more important than a game."

"I promise," she repeated, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his lips. "Thank you for caring so much. It means the world to me."

Rooster smiled, his worry easing a bit. "Always, Bea. Now, let's focus on getting that ankle in top shape. We can't have our star player sidelined."

She laughed, the playful twinkle returning to her eyes. "Star player? Flattery will get you everywhere, Roos."

He winked, teasingly. "Just stating the facts, gorgeous."

"Speaking of the game," she began, "I wonder who else from our college days will be there. It's been so long since we caught up with everyone."

“You remember anyone? You don’t talk much about Northride besides what you let me know.”

Bea pursed her lips, ‘Not…that many people to be honest. I just hope it won't be too awkward with Thomas around. You know, after the encounter at the supermarket."

Rooster's expression shifted, a subtle frown appearing. "I know you said it was just a bad comment, but if he makes you uncomfortable, we can always keep our distance."

She appreciated his concern, giving him a reassuring smile. "It's okay, Roos. I can handle it. Besides, Evelyn and Shells will be there too, and they've got my back. It's just a friendly game, and I won't let him ruin it."

“Hm.”

“Roos.”

He sighed, nodding. "Alright, just promise me you'll let me know if anything bothers you. I don't want you dealing with unnecessary stress, especially not now."

"I promise," she said, leaning against him. "And thank you for always looking out for me."

Rooster wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. "Always, Bea. Now, let's get that ankle treated properly. “ he winks, “You’ll be okay gorgeous.”

[inkyquince]

woo!! villain reader and down-bad miguel uwu

content warning. nothing much, just miguel describing violence and gore inflicted on a side character.

Miguel falling hard for a villain. He didn't even know you were one for the longest time, no idea you were the one who slipped through the portal and ended up elsewhere. You blended in too well to this slightly altered universe. You just seemed like someone soft and good and helpful and a Spiderperson in training to that universe's own one.

Fuck. You made him fall so fucking hard, it should have disgusted him when it finally came to light that you were the anomaly the entire time, and then? A villain too? He should have wanted to kick your fucking ass and haul you back to HQ. Which he did.

But he wasn't disgusted. He was angry. But fuck, he struggled to remain mad at you. He lied to Layla, he lied to everyone. He sent you back, but he went with you at the last moment. Not to stay. Never to stay. But just to...

Just to come up behind you and suck marks into your neck as you laughed softly. Whipped fucker, one of the few Spideys who would gladly join their villain in bed, to taste them, to indulge so fully.

The only problem was your Spider. They insisted on Miguel either leaving, to stop sticking around their dimension, or help them clean up. Which included you. It honestly pissed him the fuck off, being ordered around like that, from someone who didn't deserve to lick his fucking boots, never mind the way they talked about you.

An idea forms in his head. Then in his gut. Then in his heart.

It's barely a week later and he's back in your apartment. The two of you tugging off clothes on the way to your bed.

"I did it." Miguel breathed against your neck as he firmly pushes you down, against the bed. "I did it."

Your grin was blinding, drawing him in like a moth to the flame. He grapples with your trousers, firmly yanking them down and off.

"I..." He exhales fast, hot. "I followed them back home."

Trousers all the way off. Discarding socks and giving your ankle an open mouthed kiss.

"I didn't let them talk. Bashed their teeth in first before breaking their knees, so they couldn't run."

You sighed in pleasure as he talked, dropping nips and kisses up your legs, almost dizzy from the warmth of your skin. Within seconds, his tongue was dragging along your underwear, desperate to taste the prize underneath. You didn't help him remove the garment, didn't need to. His clawed thumb sliced thorugh it easily enough.

"Broke the rest of them. They were still alive by the time I got to their spine. Paralyzed, not even able to twitch." Miguel sat back on his haunches, taking his cock in hand and giving it a few pumps. "Mierda..."

"And then?" You whisper, raising your hips enough for him to drink you all in. His cock twitches in his hand, precum beginning to bead at the tip.

"I... I cut them up. Opened up their belly and watched them bleed out slowly." He drags you against him, with one hand on your waist, the other lining his cockhead up to your hole.

Miguel greedily pressed in, desperate to bottom out, to feel all of you, snug around him. You gasped out, arching your back and he takes the opportunity to wind his arms around your waist, holding you close. You're so good... So tight and good and warm, as warm as the blood that coated his body as he killed his colleague in cold blood.

"I was looking into their eyes as they bled out. They were crying." Miguel whispers into your ear, dragging his lips down to press against yours as you gave a sigh of delight.

"Fuck... You're gripping me so tight..." He murmurs against your mouth and you laugh softly, beginning to nibble his bottom lip as his cock twitches at the sound.

You had left the radio on in the other room, but neither of you cared to hear the breaking news bulletin that the city's most beloved Spider had been found massacred in their own apartment.

[broodwoof]

happy friday! from the "what are you hiding from me?" prompt list: 'i don't believe a word you've said.' + solas/varric :>

hehehehehe. have some soft angst and comfort uwu @dadrunkwriting 804 words cws: none

He stared at Solas, the elf all sharp angles and too-long limbs that he still managed to make look elegant rather than gangly, his expression just as sharp as the rest of him. Maker, but he could look downright frightening when he wanted to, something predatory in the fixed way he would stare. Perhaps it was just the odd sheen of elven eyes, something that had thrown Varric more than once—but in Solas’ case, he suspected it was something else entirely.

The Dread Wolf. Yeah, he could see it.

“I do not believe you,” Solas stated simply and Varric had to bite back a laugh. Solas didn’t believe him? What was the world coming to?

“Excuse me?” He sputtered.

“I don’t believe a word you’ve said,” Solas continued, as if Varric hadn’t spoken at all.

“Where’s all this coming from?”

The long elf folded up his long limbs and leaned back, his expression somehow imperious and cool even though, seated, he was forced to look up at Varric. “Either you have failed to understand the enormity of the truth,” he said, voice eerily level, “or you are lying to us both.”

Varric was at a loss for a moment. What was he supposed to say to that, anyway? Finally he shook his head, pulling out his desk chair and sinking heavily into it. The faint charm of being taller than Solas was not worth powering through the exhaustion that suddenly overcame him. “Solas, what are you on about?”

“You have allowed me to stay. Asked me to stay. Why?” There was something cold and accusatory to the question, but one didn’t need to be a spymaster to recognize the uncertainty under it. The fear.

“You know why,” he said softly, but Solas just shook his head. The movement was just as sharp as the rest of him, like a honed blade of an elf. Varric had grown to rather like that about the other man, how he was all angles and lines, but right now he looked brittle. “What do you want me to say?”

“That you hate me?” Solas suggested, his steely demeanor cracking as emotion finally seeped through. A tinge of panic. “That I’m a monster? That you’re trying to stop me for the world? That you’re sacrificing yourself to save everyone else?”

“Solas, I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you.”

“Then you’re a fool,” he snarled, finally rising, taking long steps away. But not leaving the room. Just turning away from Varric, as if that would hide the pain in his face—as if it wasn’t just as plain in the taut line of his shoulders, the way he folded his arms across himself like armor.

There were good days. Easy ones, where they joked, laughed, where Varric read aloud correspondence from the others. Ones where they tumbled into bed like they were far younger than either of them were, unmindful of pulled muscles, magic spoiling them both. Then there were hard days, the days where Solas woke up haunted. He supposed it was to do with his dreams—traveling the Fade must be a special kind of torment for the man.

“You know I am still studying,” Solas said after a moment, his voice controlled once again. Varric nodded—then, realizing he couldn’t see, made a soft, affirmative noise. “I will tear down the Veil.”

You convincing me or you, Chuckles? He thought but knew better than to voice it—whether Solas meant it or not, it didn’t really matter. He still had to find a way. And Varric thought that if he could find a way, well, it’d probably work out. He’d accepted that. But Solas couldn’t accept his acceptance, couldn’t bring himself to believe in it.

“I’m not ignorant, y’know,” he said, letting some of his frustration color his voice. He didn’t walk on eggshells around Solas. Things seemed to go better that way. “I know what you are, who you are, and what you want to do. I get it. I know the worst case scenarios—mostly because you’ve told me, multiple times.” He levered himself up, suddenly feeling his age. Or more than. “And I know the best case scenarios, too. Either way… I trust you.” He watched as Solas stiffened up even more at that, approaching and wrapping his arms around Solas’ stomach, pressing against his back. He stiffened up even more before slowly relaxing.

Then, suddenly, all his tension fled and Varric thought he was falling he moved so fast, but Solas was only turning and kneeling, pressing into his chest, arms now around his waist. He stroked soothingly across his bare head and neck, feeling him tremble.

Some days were like this, too. Where Solas needed to be proved wrong, where he needed to be held—even when he thought he was nothing more than a savage wolf.

[mochiwrites]

Life series Grian is cruel because everyone in the life series is cruel. There’s killings and betrayals and thefts. Everyone in the life series is kind, including Grian. There’s jokes and alliances and trades.

ANON YOU ARE OPENING A FLOOD GATE. I AM SO SORRY IN ADVANCE

(also I feel like I should preface that like. I'm not claiming to be c!grian expert and my own interpretation may not even be fully accurate to his character??? aka if anything seems out of character I am Sorry fjgfhgf)

ANYWAYS -- right so when I say the word “cruel” I’m talking about it in an,,,, emotional sense??? like, he doesn't go out of his way to target people and bully them emotionally, I guess??? he isn't cruel with their emotions???? I have no idea if that makes any sense. I'm not gonna go out my way and claim that grian is a "perfect uwu innocent boy" because he's not. no one in the life series is (and that's not even grian's character outside of traffic LMAO). the entire purpose of the game is to be the last man standing, and that means killing. that means betrayal.

but there is a fine line between being cruel to survive and being a villain.

and traffic!grian is not a villain.

traffic!grian is kind, and loyal. he feels guilt for his actions. grian plays to survive, but if you have his loyalty, you have it for the entire game.

I've seen so many people look at grian's actions in the previous session (where he laughs off joel's death and joins up with pearl and bigb) and say that grian was evil for it. but let's actually look at what grian was doing leading up to joel's death, shall we?

he didn't look for other teammates until he was certain that joel wasn't going to survive. they had already lost jimmy, so he knew he was going to be alone. he offered joel an hour. he kept telling joel to take his life so joel could survive just a little longer. he straight up tells pearl and bigb that he has to go check on joel, that he has to say goodbye or else he was going to regret not getting the chance. everything grian did in that final episode was to keep jimmy and joel alive for as long as possible. and when he finally lost joel? there was silence. he stood there and stared. "I didn't even see it." he sounded so remorseful as he said it.

did he laugh off their deaths? yes. but come on people! grian's entire character is downplaying his emotions! he laughs things off and hides his emotions! he gave us, the viewers, plenty of clues to his true feelings! he has to say goodbye to joel or he'll regret it. he makes graves for jimmy and joel. he was more than willing to give them some of his time to keep them alive. he laughs off their deaths but that's just a wall he's putting up between himself and everyone else. when looking at traffic!grian, you can't just look at his words. you need to look at his actions as well.

he makes a joke about keeping joel alive but you need to look deeper than that. you need to look at the "I couldn't do anything more to help him." that's hidden in there. with grian you need to read between the lines!

and if you STILL think that traffic!grian is a villain, don't worry, I have more examples.

let's take a look at the most obvious depiction of grian's tragic character.

third life.

whether you ship them or view them as friends, grian's story with scar is still a tragedy! he spends the entire series following scar around because of his debt, and ends up sticking around after his debt is cleared because he wants to see scar win. he wants to help scar still. he's chaotic and a menace and full of bloodlust, but that doesn't make him a villain. he's playing the game. the same game that everyone else is playing.

look at the final scene of the third life finale. grian wanted to win with scar. he wanted them to win together. they planned to die together. and then the cactus ring happens and grian wins. look me dead in the eyes as grian says "Oh I don't feel so good." before jumping to his death and tell me that grian is a villain. that's one of the cases where grian's guilt is the most clear.

let's also not forget all of the deals he makes in every series? the promises he tries to keep? returning scar's things to him in last life even though he didn't have to? giving skizz a totem? setting an ender porter with him so if skizz needs him he can come help? because he wanted skizz to stay alive for as long as possible?

grian is kind. and he cares about people. neither of these things are the qualities of a villain!

he's playing in a death game, just like everyone else, and he's playing to survive. of course he's going to betray certain people (not his allies though. never his allies), he's going to steal and kill. he's going to laugh as he pulls off a successful kill because yes he may not be a villain but he's chaotic and bloodthirsty just like everyone else.

grian is not cruel because he laughed off jimmy and joel's deaths. he is not evil because he joined pearl and bigb after he lost the bad boys.

this is just a personal frustration but too many people in this fandom are quick to jump on calling grian a villain in the traffic series when every other character is doing the same thing as he is. but yet no one else gets called evil for it??? some people are so quick to make grian out to be an asshole when he's not. can he act like an ass? yes, absolutely. but that doesn't make one. I've seen some absolutely wild characterizations on grian, and some of them are just.... Yikes

some people are so quick to make grian out to be the bad guy that they don't consider the actions that lead up to that moment.

THAT BEING ASIDE.... tldr, grian isn't a villain, he's playing in a death game and the aim is to survive. he's a loyal teammate and is more than willing to fight for his allies. please stop calling him a villain thank you

[nirikeehan]

Happy Friday dearest!! YASSS HORROR PROMPTS how about #4 (?? I’m sorry if this is not the correct number) from the Eldritch Aesthetic list: “Something pretending to be human”

Forrrrr Thalia and Dorian??? Or Thalia x Cullen uwu

Well. She mentions Cullen.

Who's pretending to be human? One of these two characters and it's not Thalia!!!!!! ahahaha

You know what the real horror is? The class struggle, that's what.

More Curse of Strahd crossover; I can't be stopped

Metrion is borrowed from Curse of Strahd: Twice Bitten, the best DND podcast you've never heard but absolutely should, it's fantastic

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 2281

---

“They don’t like me. They don’t trust me.” His words are slurred, the wineskin in one hand, the long leather coat trailing off one bony shoulder. “They don’t want me here.”

Thalia surveys him, her strange, new friend in this strange, new land. He’s drunk. This has happened three nights in a row, and it’s beginning to worry her.

“It’s not that,” she says, trying not to wince. “They’re grateful you brought me back safe. You’re just a little—” Rough around the edges, she tried to say to Pravin, who laughed and told her that was a delicate term for a charlatan. What is it, Thalia, about those peasant accents that make you want to do charity work? Her chest still aches from the insult. “Look. There’s not a lot of people around here we’ve been able to trust. Their suspicion is understandable, isn’t it?”

“You didn’t mention the lot of them is nobles.” Metrion appears not to hear her, pacing between the space of two trees. They’re camping by the shore of Lake Zarovich, with intel that Vallaki is too dangerous politically and the woods too dangerous physically. The tree line is as far from camp as he is willing to wander, and he points accusingly back in the direction of the tents. “You didn’t mention you’re some big shot lady, neither.”

“They’re not all nobles,” Thalia protests. “Blackwall isn’t. Hawke barely is, he grew up poor and had to go on a whole quest to restore his family’s—” She realizes Metrion probably doesn’t want a recitation of Tales of the Champion right now. “And I’m the Inquisitor. So what? I don’t understand why any of that matters. It doesn’t matter here least of all, in a world where Strahd von Zarovich is in charge.” 

She watches him physically recoil at the sound of his name. He shakes his head and takes another pull from the wineskin. “I don’t belong here,” he mutters, looking at the ground. 

Thalia blinks. “None of us do, you said so yourself.”

“’S not what I mean. This is a proper retinue, innit? For you and your very important friends.” 

Thalia recognizes the self-loathing in his voice. She’s heard it before and it hurts just as much as all those other dark moments — in the dim light of the Val Royeaux jail when she visited Blackwall, in Cullen’s office on the bad days, in the nook of the rookery library as Dorian told her of the sins of his father. “And if I said you were a very important friend?” 

Metrion chuckles bitterly. “You don’t know me, love. Not barely.” 

“I know you could’ve left me to die to save yourself and you didn’t.” Thalia crosses her arms over her chest. “You helped me hide and disguise myself so Strahd wouldn’t recognize me again. I’ve plenty of practice with people selling themselves short in an attempt to push me away, Metrion.” She swallows hard, trying not to think of Blackwall sitting in camp, avoiding her with his steely eyes. “It’s not going to work this time.” 

Metrion sways on his feet a little. He looks at her with a helpless expression, then leans against the tree trunk and slides slowly to the ground, legs to chest, the wineskin resting on his knees. His yellow eyes are distant.  

Thalia chews her lip. The silence stretches.

She’s turning to go when she hears him ask softly, “What d’you mean, ‘this time’?” 

She looks at him again, her throat tight. “It’s a long story.”

“Yeah, well. We got all night, don’t we?” He holds up the wineskin, jiggles it at her, laughs nervously. “All our lives, supposedly.”

Thalia takes a breath. “If I tell you, will you promise to tell me why you hate nobles so much?” 

His jaw works back and forth. She catches a glimpse of his long gold incisor. “I’ll think about it.” 

Thalia snorts. “Not good enough.”

“All right, yes, fine. Story swap time. Just sit down and have a drink before I change my mind, yeah?” 

She sits. The grass is cold and damp beneath her trousers. She inches closer instinctively, for the warmth. She takes the wineskin and hesitates. 

“Does m’lady wish to have it poured into a golden goblet first?” Metrion asks, affecting the false posh accent.

“Oh, shut up.” Thalia takes a deep swallow. The wine tastes like a dry red, not as robust as some she’s tasted, but will do in a pinch. She licks her lips and hands the wineskin back. Again she sees the flash of bright pink sticking out from between his gloves and trench coat sleeve. The tunic underneath doesn’t look that vibrant, but he never takes off the coat, so it’s difficult to say. She can’t blame him for wearing several layers in this chill. “So. Where do I start?”

“Beginning’s usually a fine place.” The wineskin is already back to his lips. 

“Right.” She sighs, casts a glance over at the camp. “You met Warden Blackwall.” 

“Yeah. Thought his eyes might cut me in two.” 

“He’s like that. He, ah.” Thalia takes the wineskin back, swallows to summon the courage. The rim tastes like the makeup he’s slathered on her face, and she tries to work it off her tongue, wondering how she managed to get it there. She worries her finger at the bit of tan pigment she can see there. “He and I… well…” Her cheeks warm.

“Fucking hell.” She can feel, rather than see, Metrion’s raised eyebrows. “Him? Right old man, ain’t he?”

“It’s not like that. Well, I mean, I thought it was, or would be, at one time.” Thalia feels mortified, saying all this out loud. “I didn’t mind that he was older. He’s one of the best fighters you’ll ever see. I always felt safe with him around. And I thought he wanted me. But it never really… happened.” 

Thalia looks up, and Metrion is fixing her with one of those looks she has a difficult time parsing. Skepticism, she thinks, in the cocked brow. His eyes are narrowed, almost dangerously. And yet, he seems sad. “They always want something,” he says, almost too softly for her to hear. 

Irritation flares in her. “Now you sound like Cullen.”

“Who’s Cullen?” Metrion shoots back.

“My… I don’t know what you’d call it. Boyfriend?” 

Metrion snorts. “Hope he’s closer to you in age.”

“He is. You’re sounding awfully protective for someone who insists he’s not my friend, you know.” 

“Look, love.” Metrion takes the wineskin back and takes a purposeful swallow. “Don’t need to be a friend to tell you to be careful. With men like that, it’s always gonna be about how much power they can get over ya. But go on, tell me more about how noble and shit this Warden Blackwall is.”

“That’s the thing.” Thalia stares down at her hands. “I found out he’s not a Warden. He was lying. He was lying about everything. His name’s not even Blackwall.” 

She feels Metrion tense beside her. 

“He’s… he was…” She swallows. She can’t say the words that lodge in her throat. Criminal. Murderer. Traitor. “He was wanted for treason in Orlais. They were going to hang him.”

Metrion says nothing, taking another slow sip of wine. He looks past her, to the faint flicker of firelight in the camp. “Did he do it?” 

“Oh, yes.” Thalia blinks, and her vision blurs from the tears that come without her permission. “He definitely did.” 

Metrion watches her, then hands her back the wineskin with care. She sniffles, wipes at her eyes, smears more of the makeup, sighs. She drinks once, twice. “Sorry, I— it still hurts, you know? I saw so much good in him, I saw how he was trying to make himself better — I didn’t care about all the lies, I really didn’t — but here was everyone, everyone in positions that mattered, saying what he’d done was unforgivable. And worse, that he seemed to believe that himself.” 

Metrion is silent for a long while. When he speaks again, his voice is a raw mumble. “And this is the bloke you’re comparing me to?”

“No. Yes. I had to save him, don’t you understand? I couldn’t let him die. But he hates me for it.” 

Metrion scoffs. “Don’t think that’s true.” 

“And why not?” Thalia retorts. 

“I seen the way he looks at you.” Metrion takes the wineskin back. “Trust me, I know the difference.” 

Thalia opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. She feels as though he kicked her in the chest. She grasps clumps of wet grass and yanks them from the earth with a pained tug. Metrion drinks deeply beside her, coming up for air with a near desperate gasp. 

“’S that what you want to do to me?” he asks with a sudden, venomous edge to his voice. “‘Save me’?”

“No. It didn’t work with Blackwall; why would it work with anyone else?” Thalia forces a smile. “Besides, what’s there to save you from? An alliterative stage name?” 

Metrion chuckles, but she feels no mirth from it. “Right, yeah. Metrion the Magnificent — ’s a little over the top, innit?”

Thalia is surprised by the criticism. Pravin never approached his stage persona with anything but the utmost pride. “I think it gets the point across.” 

“Sure it does.” Metrion clutches the wineskin in his lap and studies it. “You said— this Blackwall fellow, he was trying to better himself.”

Thalia blinks. “Of course. That was the whole reason he wanted to join the Grey Wardens.”

“What if I said I’m not tryin’ to do that?” He looks at her, and his eyes seem glassy, though from the wine or grief it’s hard to tell. 

“I… don’t know.” She gets the sense he’s fishing for an answer that eludes her. “Why would you need to? You’re just an actor.” 

As soon as she speaks, the doubt comes, because he’s glancing away, sniffing, rubbing at an eye. 

“Aren’t you?” Her voice is small. 

“O’ course. Yeah.” Metrion grimaces against the lip of the wineskin. “Just not the kind your friend Fidencio would approve of.” 

Thalia takes a breath. She feels off-kilter, like they’re somehow not talking about the same thing, despite their words. “Metrion, I know what I must look like to you. But I’m not a wide-eyed innocent, or a dainty lady, ignorant to the ways of the world. And because of Fidencio, I’ve met some colorful types when it comes to the stage. Nothing about you — shocks me, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“How magnanimous of you, m’lady,” he sneers, and she flinches. 

“All right, fine then.” She snatches the wineskin away from him and drinks. It’s nearly empty. “I bared my soul to you; it’s time you returned the favor. Why do you hate the aristocracy?” 

Metrion snorts, letting out a slow, drunken laugh. I shouldn’t have let him have more, she thinks fleetingly.  “You’ve got it all wrong in your pretty little head, pet. I don’t hate ‘em. I don’t think about ‘em much at all. Except for their money.” He waves his arm with an exaggerated flourish, as if to take a bow, and clenches his fist. “And how it can be mine.” 

Realization dawns. “So you’re a thief.” 

Metrion shrugs. “Don’t really like to nail myself down to one thing.” 

“A swindler, then. A huckster. A snake oil salesman.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Never tried to sell any sort of oil, nah.” 

Thalia tries to work this through her head, which the wine has made light and warm. She feels suddenly sleepy. She sighs, eyes his shoulder, and slowly leans closer, resting her cheek against it. He doesn’t resist, but doesn’t move either, instead looking straight ahead. He really is quite bony, beneath all the layers. 

“Okay,” she says, yawning.

“Okay?” 

“Okay. You’re a real knave, I guess. You run scams on people, is that it? I just told you I was in love with a man who almost got executed for treason.” She giggles. “You can still be my friend. I don’t care.”

There is a confused silence. “You’re not… afraid I’m gonna make off with the family jewels or nothing?” 

“Joke’s on you.” Thalia smirks. “I left all my jewels back at Skyhold.” 

“Well, shit.” 

They snicker in unison, and Thalia thinks things might finally be settling between them. 

“That wine isn’t bad, you know,” she ventures.

“’S the only thing gettin’ me through, love.” Metrion takes the wineskin back, drains it in one gulp, and drops it at his side opposite her. 

She worries he’s going to suggest they go back to camp and get some sleep, but he doesn’t move. Thalia has no desire to go back either, to face the others: Blackwall’s grim visage, Pravin’s disapproving looks, Hawke’s devil-may-care bravado. She can sleep right here, she thinks, as long as he doesn’t move, which he seems to have no intention of doing. She feels a strange sort of comfort from that, if not exactly affection. 

“Metrion?” 

“Mm?” He sounds half-asleep. 

Thalia wrinkles her nose and sniffs. “Why do you smell like shoe polish?” 

His eyes pop open, the yellow irises sliding toward her. He stretches his long legs out and wiggles the toe of one boot. “Gotta keep ‘em looking proper, you know.” 

“For your magic act?” She can see him on a stage, conjuring cards from thin air. Summoning rabbits. Drawing applause, passing a hat around. Enough money, maybe, for one night, or two, or ten. She feels as if she’s on the cusp of understanding something, and it makes her terribly sad. 

“Yeah,” Metrion mutters. “For my magic act.” 

[milk-crafting]

♦: Slow dancing for Sosiel/Tristo? 👀

My laptop is about to die and I don't feel like getting up to find the charger heheh let's see if I get this posted in time (I didn't proofread it oops)

(Eta that I did go back and proofread on my phone uwu)

Ship: Tristo (KC) x Sosiel

Words: 807

CW: None I think!

“I don’t know how to dance.”

“Even if you’ve danced poorly before, there’s always time to learn.  They’re going to expect you to dance at the party.”

“I’ve never danced before.”

Sosiel’s eyes widen slightly at that, his gaze rising from his sketchbook to fall squarely on Tristo–for a longer moment than the brief glances he’s been casting his way while drawing him.  His smiles slightly, politely, huffing a small laugh.

“You mean you’ve never danced with someone else before?”

“I haven’t danced at all before,” Tristo mumbles, lips drawing themselves into a thin, tight line, brow furrowing.  His halo seems to blaze hotter for a moment, before dying back.  That little habit scares some people away–not Sosiel.  

Sosiel always manages to see past Tristo’s sharp edges.  Behind every scowl, every cold glare, every snapped command, Sosiel catches glimpses of someone else–someone who’s had to put up wall after wall to protect himself.

Tristo stares back at Sosiel, not understanding what the other man actually sees in him.  He’s softer with him than most–quiet, gentle–but Sosiel still sees how he is.  Tristo is a damn good hellknight, and he makes no effort to hide it.  He’s spoken at length with Sosiel about his association with the Order of the Gate, even, and as off-putting as he knows it is to the other man, Sosiel puts up with it, with him.

Tristo sits cross-legged on his bed in his chambers in Drezen, correspondence (work) spread out haphazardly on the silk sheets around him, a simple pewter cup of white wine perched precariously on one knee.  Sosiel sits across from him, on a chair by his desk, sketching him.  He’s made several drawings in the past hour that they’ve been here, discussing the upcoming party that Lady Konomi had very strongly suggested they hold for some visiting Mendevian nobles–a mix of thrill-seeking younger aristocrats and a variety of other nobility who have invested heavily in the crusade.  Melies–whose advice Tristo takes more often than Lady Konomi’s–had also implied that it would be beneficial to host the party.

Here.  In Drezen.  Near the front lines of the assault on the demon-spewing worldwound. When Tristo can't dance.

Regill–one of the few sensible people in the entire keep–had been on Tristo’s side in voicing reservations about it.  Eventually it came down to optics, and resources, two things the Crusade is in dire need of.

“You’re clenching your jaw,” Sosiel remarks.  “Doesn’t it start to ache?”

“I hardly notice anymore,” Tristo replies, voice soft, distant.

He forces himself to relax, drawing in a deep breath and exhaling excruciatingly slowly.  His eyes–dimly glowing, fiery in the low light of his bedroom–fall on Sosiel again.  Calm Sosiel.  Caring Sosiel.  Helpful Sosiel.

Tristo drinks the last of his wine, setting the cup aside on his bedside table as he slips out of bed and closes the distance between himself and Sosiel.  He stands in front of the cleric, a scarred hand resting gently on his shoulder, tracing his fingers up along his neck, his jaw, cupping his chin to raise his head so that their eyes meet again.

“Show me,” Tristo asks.

Sosiel laughs, blushing, flipping through papers to try to find the first sketch from earlier, but Tristo lowers his hand and pushes the sketchbook down.

“How to dance.”

“What?”

“I need to learn before the ball.  I would ask Daeran, but–”

“No, no, I mean…” Sosiel trails off, thinking.  “I mean, I can show you, I know how, kind of.”

Tristo wanders past Sosiel, shutting the door to his room quietly, before turning again to see Sosiel setting his sketches down on the desk.  Sosiel wipes his hands on his hips slightly, and Tristo realizes that he’s nervous.  Tristo grins.  He loves eliciting that response in people–usually because it means they fear him, which is the easiest way to make people respect him–but in Sosiel it’s different.  Sosiel isn’t afraid of him, he adores him–Tristo likes it like that.  He doesn’t want Sosiel to fear him, he has no need to.

“Here, let me just–” Sosiel takes one of Tristo’s hands, and puts another on his waist.  “We could try a waltz first?”

Tristo smiles, a warm, genuine little thing, like a flame nearing the end of a wick, and shifts his position slightly, releasing Sosiel’s hand and instead pulling him in closer to him, resting his arms around either of the man’s shoulders.

“Or that works too,” Sosiel says, voice a low, delicate whisper now.  He lowers his other hand so both are resting on Tristo’s lower back.

Sosiel starts swaying, slowly, and Tristo’s wine-sweet lips press to his, the aasimar having to tilt his head down slightly to do so.  It’s a fleeting little thing, as all moments like this with Tristo are, but Sosiel savors it, brown eyes closing as he leans into Tristo’s embrace.