#i accidentally drew this VERY too small

[thegoldenavenger]

dragon children

[scooterpengie]

I told myself "no weird Succession AUs" but then I realised I wanted to see the Roy siblings as kids get lost in a creepy forest 😭 So anyway Succession Over the Garden Wall AU! They wouldn't survive a week

The first drawing without text under the cut because I drew a whole ass background 😳

Let me know if you wanna see more of this!

[funsizedcrow]

Linktober day 28: Bones

The hero's shade (or as i called him in my tp playthrough: grandpa) is soooo interesting to me...the implications...

[welcometogrouchland]

Hello, another doodle compilation post of everything I haven't posted since the period of May to now that I didn't hate but didn't like enough to post on its own + fanart i made of @catboymoments's fankids Azura and Hyacinth! I'm not normally a fankid person but these guys are a whole moment unto themselves I love them sm. ID in alt text bc it was getting lengthy! Let me know if there's any issues

[lemonofthevalley]

Hello :) I see you do art! Would you be willing to draw-

Teen-High-Binder Transmasc Normal?

[lilacxquartz]

love you, love you, love you;

mr. crawling x reader

plot: some things are best expressed without the need of words — themes: spooning/cuddling, smut, maybe yan vibes — w.c: 1.1k

a/n: my first homicipher related fic. i want to try one for mr. silvair & mr. gap next, bc they were also my favs. this game has been taking over my life so much lately. like it’s been in my dreams, haaah.

masterlist • ao3

Mr. Crawling was always loud when he was excited within your company; his laughter filled out the vast empty spaces that were otherwise unadorned with familiarity. Whatever you once sought from those winding corridors was ever-fleeting, temporary, leaving you stuck within the confines of his company.

Yet, when he felt what you could only interpret as affection—that’s when Mr. Crawling then became different—quiet, soothing, kind but also… curious.

And when you would usually sleep, he would stand watch, knelt over the floor as per his usual stance but sometimes crouched near you, sometimes leaning back against the wall with his legs pressed up against his chest. He would watch you as his life depended on it, unwavering in focus and with eerie intensity. He would watch as your chest rose and fell, leaning close on occasion to catch the sweep of your breath and sometimes, he would trace the pad of his milky fingertips in long, languid strokes against your face. Always so delicate, so tender, but for the most part, quiet and even shy.

Having once caught a glimpse of Mr. Gap in your blanket space, however, set something territorial off for Mr. Crawling and he was never able to recover from such an invasion. The very idea that someone else was able to infiltrate what he deemed to be your space—especially someone who he disapproved of—wasn’t something he could stand for. Especially with the sort of trickster Mr. Gap was, he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt. It would kill him on the inside (and on the outside, too).

So, just as you were getting into bed to rest up once more, he too, slipped in under the covers with you. At first, you were startled as usual, turning to face him with confusion evident in your eyes, murmuring out some words in a language that he still could not understand. He repeated something back, the meaning lost and indecipherable upon your ears, though soon surrendering to emphasis using gestures instead. A hug to bring you closer, a reassuring pat on your head and a small, longing kiss over your nose.

You listened to his words again, repeating over and over like a broken record.

Perhaps he meant no harm, after all.

You turned your back to him and settled into his chest, finding that he was surprisingly warm for what he was. His taller frame encased your body, wrapping his ashen arms around your waist—accidentally brushing the fabric that sat over your breast—nicking the cloth ever so slightly. Your breath hitched in surprise and as though in sheepish realisation, he withdrew right away, terrified that you were upset with him.

You drew out a long breath, reminding yourself again, that after everything that has happened thus far…

That, Mr. Crawling does not want to hurt you.

That Mr. Crawling has only ever helped you.

So perhaps, right now, Mr. Crawling only wanted to be closer to you.

You relaxed your breathing, settling into his comforting shadow once more and allowed for his presence to envelop you. He repeated the soothing motions of his grappling arm, although he held onto you softer that time. His hands explored your body with a delicate touch, as though afraid of breaking you—of upsetting you again—his motions growing confident the longer that you didn’t protest. It wasn’t long before he, otherwise not disturbed by your lacking, conscious awareness, decided to explore further with you. Mr. Crawling’s fingers didn’t ask for permission that time, creeping beneath the clinging fabric, feeling your skin against his palms, inviting a pleased, almost delighted smile to curl on his lips.

The silence remained unbroken as Mr. Crawling continued his explorative focus on you; the quickly-building evidence of his need growing harder the longer he pushed himself behind your body, the repeated touches arousing something warmer within him. To both his surprise as well as your own—you were not repulsed, allowing him to creep even lower, below the skirt of the dress and up, brushing his hand up to your exposed skin and, reading into it—you communicated your consent from the moment you parted your legs, allowing him to get even closer.

Confidence surged in Mr. Crawling as he pushed himself into your hilt, allowing his hardened length to slip inside. Betraying the stagnant silence, he shuddered out a ragged gasp before giving into his own rising need; grinding himself into your sopping sex with steadily increasing fervour. His fingers clamped around the curve of your hips as he held you in place, slamming every last inch of himself deep into your core.

Ever touch-starved yet wanting nothing more than to surrender to the sensation of you, Mr. Crawling continued to drive his cock into your needy cunt, soon wrapping his winding arms around your body and holding on tight. He bucked intensely as you soon succumbed to breathless whimpers, incoherently begging for his name. Equally desperate whines rolled off the slip of his tongue as he found his lips pressed into the crook of your neck, dampening your skin with sloppy wet kisses—as many as he could give.

It felt overwhelming for you in a way to be worshipped like this but you did your best to keep up with such intensity, especially as the warm, tingling pleasure built up inside of you, too. You held on just as tight as he did, your hand seeking out his own—fingers weaving into his bony digits—interlocking and squeezing tight the closer you got, your grip and otherwise clenching need tightening simultaneously. To feel him losing himself inside of you was dare you admit, addicting, feeling him completely fill and stretch you out leaving you almost dizzied from the impaling force.

Mr. Crawling, like you, soon surrendered to the rolling bliss from the flick of his hips, feeling a surging warmth mount and rise, encouraging him to lose himself to the searing heat of the moment and you. Encircling your body in a possessive hug, he suddenly began to mutter out a new word in a strained mantra, again and again.

Given how desperate he seemed to be, you understood the meaning as ‘close’, especially as his actions grew more strained and less controlled.

“Close, close, close,” he repeated.

It didn’t take his chased release to catch up as his hips grew to a stutter, rutting out one final pump before melting into you. Mr. Crawling cried into your neck, spilling out the entirety of his overflowing love, feeling the pent-up devotion trickle down your thighs—yet not letting you move away—still retaining his claim on you.

Instead, he kept you even closer than before, not allowing you to part from him ever again (despite understanding your yearning for rest).

Words were never the problem, it seemed.

Mr. Crawling would have always found a way to… connect with you.

[dunmeshistash]

Ryoko Kui Exhibition & ''Delicious in Dungeon'' Exhibition

"Delicious in Dungeon" Artwork

Cover illustration draft, vol. 1

Since this was the first volume, I tried out a few different drawings and had the editor and designer choose which ones they wanted, then made small adjustments. I personally liked the top-down draft, and the one of the cooking processes (back cover) the best. But looking back, I sincerely think it's good that we didn't go with those. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 2

The format was decided for volume 1. So, volume 2 came together quickly. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 3

I thought it might be cool to make the character Chilchuck darker in the foreground, and the background brighter! But it didn't quite work out the way I had imagined. I think it could have been a bit better. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 4

I remember that the overall shape of volume 4 came together very quickly. The character Senshi's hands didn't fit nicely, so I moved them backwards and to the side. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 5

I thought people might start to think "how many have I bought?" so I wanted to create a slightly different impression with this volume. I decided to put the character right in the center and try putting it together all in blue and green hues. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 6

With the Red Dragon defeated, have we reached the halfway point in the story? With this in mind, I thought of how many volumes were left to go, and the number of characters, and decided to pair up the characters Namari and Shuroiro. In hindsight, it would have been fine to have them on one cover each. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 7

The image is of focus lines converging on the character Izutsumi. This is the kind of cover, with upside down characters, which I've always wanted to try once(?) I submitted it as a trial, thinking that at this point the cover wouldn't dramatically influence sales. However, in the end, we decided it would be better not to have it upside down. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 8

I tried blurring the mushrooms in the foreground, then I accidentally saved over it, and couldn't go back to the original. I remember apologizing that it was probably tacky, when I submitted it. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 9

I don't think snake meat is marbled at all, but if it has an unfamiliar look, people might not recognize it as meat… so I made it look like beef to make it easier to understand. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 10

I thought it might be interesting to have more than one of the main characters on the cover again, so I added the character Falin. I remember it wasn't badly received, but it still ended up just being Thistle on his own. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 11

I wanted this cover to be covered in shiny gold. After I finished it, it didn't have enough color, so I painted the tablecloth green, and it ended up looking like Christmas colors. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 12

Up to this point, the covers have featured one of the main characters holding cooking utensils in the foreground and a monster in the background, but I thought it might be interesting to reverse the format just before the final volume, so I drew this cover with that in mind. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 13

volume 13 was meant to be the final one, but it was too thick to be published as a single volume, so we decided to split it into two. The question of “so, what should I draw next!?" may be at the forefront of volume 13. (Kui)

Cover illustration draft, vol. 14

I had decided that the final cover definitely needed to have everyone eating together on it, but because I was publishing two books at the same time I was pressed for time, and it was difficult to have a cover with so many characters on it. I also submitted a rough for an illustration that didn't need me to draw any crowds, but such obviously easy ideas are never adopted. (Kui)

TV anime "Delicious in Dungeon"

About the ending illustration.

I drew these based on the director's instruction "This kinds of pictures." I hardly ever have the chance to draw color illustrations, so it was a valuable experience for me. (Kui)

[Kui's commentary is from the english pamphlet]

[scoutswritingcorner]

Can I request Hazbin Hotel characters reacting to an artist!reader that draws a lot but never shows anyone their work but one day accidentally left it out and their partner finds it and sees several sketches and finished drawings of them? Sorry if it’s an odd ask, I’m an artist and I thought it would be a cute idea I don’t see nearly enough, it’s okay if you can’t. Thank you either way!!!

Artist Rendition

Hazbin Gang x GN!Reader

TW:A little flirty with Angel’s reaction. Other than that none!

A/N: Not an odd request at all, Friend! For Angel’s part I did write for a male Reader and Fem Reader for Vaggie! KINDA SHORT I APOLOGIZE FRIEND!

-🦌Alastor🦌-

-🦌 Alastor was very curious to see you carry a sketchbook around all the time. He wanted to pry so badly.

-🦌 But he didn’t, he simply ignored the book and only ever asked about it if you were near him. You always get flustered and hide the book even further. Oh now he’s wondering what kind of dark secrets you have in there~

-🦌 But to his surprise when he finds it open and on a page, he sees drawings of him, he carefully flips the page and sees a half down sketch of him sitting in front of the fireplace.

-🦌 Oh boy you just made his ego inflate and his undead heart soar to new heights. His tail starts wagging and that’s the only way someone can catch how happy he is.

-🦌 Now? He’s going to poke a little fun at you, “My Dear, if you had to pick anyone in the hotel to be your muse who would it be?” 

-🦌 Silly deer man loves you and your abilities, he often tells you that your work needs to be displayed in a museum.

-🍎Lucifer🍎-

-🍎 Oh boy- when he finds out you can draw? Oh he gets super excited and asks if you can draw him a duck- even if it’s a little doodle! He doesn’t care!

-He doesn’t really ask or pry into your hobby much but he will admit he does want to see what you draw.

-When he does see that you drew him of all people he gets all flustered and he’s prideful cause his partner?? His darling little angel drew him?!?

-He will volunteer to pose for you, he’s used to sitting still for hours on end! 

-He will even pose naked if you want him to! Just say the word and he’ll drop his clothes right there.

-🎰Husk🎰-

-🎰 He watched you sit at the bar and draw to your heart's content and never really commented on it.

-🎰 When he does peek into your sketchbook it’s to pull behind the bar into a safe place so nothing ruins your work.

-🎰That’s when he notices the drawings and doodles of him and his tail curls happily. The way you captured him doing menial tasks sends his heart into overdrive.

-🎰 You were too good for him, damn it. The next time you find it? It has a little sticky note on the cover of your sketchbook and it has a little drawing of you with a small message, “Had to go out with Alastor. Love you, Dollface.” 

-🕷️ Angel Dust 🩷-

-🕷️ Oh this man- he loves it! You’re an artist and he’s also like an artist! But of a very very different genre.

-🩷 He also doesn’t pry much as he understands privacy. He wants to give you that as much as he can since he doesn’t get much of it.

-🕷️ Once he finds out you draw him? He’s over the fucking moon cause his man? His precious boyfriend draws him! 

-🩷Expect him to start flirting more and more but with art related flirts. “Come on, Suga’~ Draw me like one of your french girls~” im sorry. He’s very supportive!

-👑Charlie👑-

-👑 oh this baby girl..she’s been so busy lately that if she did notice it completely slipped her mind!

-👑 But when she finds your sketchbook? She gets super excited cause you draw this good?? She’s so proud that she immediately goes to find you!

-👑 She is another who fully supports you! You need anything, don't hesitate to ask!

-👑 Will try to convince you to start painting for the hotel! You can say no it won’t offend her.

-🎀Vaggie🎀-

-🎀 Much like Husk she won’t point it out or comment on it.

-🎀Will find out you draw her when she sees it when cleaning up and gets all blushy cause this is how you see her?

-🎀 Comes clean immediately about seeing your drawings and tells you how amazing they are.

-🎀 Shyly asks if she can pose for you next time, how could you say no to her?

[thedeadestartist]

To escape a time loop, the witch demands virgin blood. And well, everyone thinks they know who the virgin of the group is. And they're wrong – or are they?

✨｡⁠♡*⁠～⁠✧⁠*～⁠♡⁠｡⁠✨

“Are you completely sure they are to be trusted, Merlin? What if the witch goes back on their word!” Arthur exclaimed.

He was frustrated. But so too were the knights and Merlin. They had been wandering a neverending woodland path for what had felt like hours. After all, why would they give in to a witch’s demands before exhausting every option?

“No, Arthur!” Merlin snapped. “I am not sure we can trust them at all, but what other option do we have at this point?”

Merlin was the first to notice that they’d been looping the same path several times over, before any of the knights. This sort of magic was something he had seen before, and he knew it was the type of curse that was near impossible to break from inside the incantation area. In his mind, the witch’s words repeated endlessly.

When the knights had come across the witch, they were simply sitting by a humble campfire, watching a pot of water with herbs and leaves boil over. Of course, Gwaine had been desperate enough to accept a drink from this total stranger. And after just one sip, the witch had risen to their feet and laughed – a sound so shrill and chilling.

“And thus, thou, King of Camelot and thyne beloved knights of the round table are cursed to wander these woods for the rest of time. The world shall continue on without thee as thy kingdom crumbles. But do not despair, men of the sword. Lest you bring me 9 drops of a virgin’s blood, I shall grant thee freedom once more.”

“Alright, bickering will get us nowhere!” Leon interrupted. “Even if we were to do what the witch asks, where are we going to find a virgin in these woods if it simply keeps repeating itself?”

Percival quickly quipped, “Well, what about one of us?”

An abrupt silence descended upon the men as they exchanged glances.

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve never seen a woman within five feet of Merlin,” Elyan spoke.

The rest of the knights turned their faces towards Merlin.

Arthur smirked.

“Well go on then, Merlin. If you really think we can trust the witch, then go ahead. 8 drops of blood is barely much of a sacrifice.”

Merlin grit his teeth. It was true that he had never been… intimate with any of the ladies he had admired. But he had a feeling deep down that something was wrong. Was it because he had the blood of a sorcerer? Would it potentially backfire – put them in danger?

As he racked his brain, he heard the familiar metallic rush of a sword being drawn.

“Gwaine, what do you think you’re doing?” Arthur said firmly, as Gwaine drew his sword.

“What, he needs a blade if he’s gonna bleed, right?”

“And you think a sword is a good idea? What if he accidentally impaled himself?” Arthur barked.

The king quickly drew his dagger and handed it very carefully into the hands of his servant. Gwaine rolled his eyes and put his sword away.

“Here, Merlin,” Arthur spoke. His words were ever so slightly more gentle than his usual biting tone.

Merlin raced through his thoughts to try and come up with an excuse. The creeping feeling that this was wrong refused to subside.

Finally he blurted, “I can’t. I can’t do it.”

“Oh come on, Merlin,” scoffed Gwaine. “It’s not like we’re asking you to cut off your entire arm.”

Before Merlin could think of a good excuse, the words slipped from his lips:

“I can’t be the one to do it… because I’m not a virgin.”

There was a beat.

Then, before anyone could react, Gwaine had swiftly taken Arthur’s dagger and lightly swiped Merlin’s arm.

“Ow, Gwaine!” Merlin huffed, but it was too late.

Small red beads of blood dripped quickly from the sorcerer's arm to the forest floor. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Nine. The sky above them whirled and hissed, darkening in only a few seconds.

And then, the witch’s voice boomed from all sides.

“This is not the virgin blood I seek. Do not deceive me again, lest thou art willing to suffer the consequence.”

“Huh, guess he wasn’t lying,” Gwaine shrugged.

If anyone had seen Arthur’s face as the witch had spoken, they may have noticed the slight snarl of his lips, the quick flush of his face. But it soon was gone and replaced with raging concern. Tearing some cloth from his cape, the King skillfully wrapped the wound on Merlin’s arm.

“Are you alright?” he asked quickly. A little too quickly.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” Merlin quivered.

Perhaps if it were any other situation, he may have had his suspicions about Arthur’s tender touches. The way his king so swiftly and gently cleaned up the wound as best he could. But his mind was worrying about something else.

He was close to connecting the dots, he was sure. Virgin blood. He was a virgin, but obviously it hadn't worked. What did the witch mean by virgin if not a person who had not had sex? Virgin - what did that word mean? Pure? Untainted?

As Merlin fretted in silence and Arthur tended to him, Leon had quietly taken the dagger. And without warning—

“Ow! Okay, that actually really hurt!” Gwaine yelped.

The others turned quickly to him and watched as blood rolled down his palm and rolled off onto the forest floor.

And then, for Merlin, it clicked. Virgin blood – he had read about it before. Dark magic required ritual blood. And the most powerful of spells required blood that had never been used in magic before. And after so many escapades with numerous magic users, of course, Merlin’s blood had been used in magic before!

Once more, the sky hissed and darkened and the witch’s voice filled the forest.

“The deal is fulfilled, oh King of Camelot. Thou and thy company may leave this place freely.”

“Holy shit, Gwaine’s a vir–”

But before Elyan could finish his exclamation, the forest fell away and the men found themselves stirring awake by the witch’s camp fire.

Arthur was the first to scramble to his feet and brandish his sword at the woods surrounding them, his knights quick behind.

“Show yourself!” he demanded.

“It's too late,” Merlin said, simply, checking his arm – still wrapped up in Arthur's makeshift cloth bandage. “The witch would be long gone by now. That sort of spell is one you cast to get as far as you can from the people you're trapping. I've read about these spells plenty of times.”

Tired, Arthur resheathed his sword and collapsed onto the floor next to Merlin. The knights also sat themselves down, exhausted.

“Does it hurt?” Arthur whispered quickly.

“Not anymore,” Merlin answered, also in a hurried, hushed tone. “Thanks for the bandage.”

Arthur felt the words claw at his throat. He so desperately wanted to know. Who was it that Merlin had let into his heart to share a bed with? Who had this servant boy met that he did not know about? Merlin told him everything. Or at least, Merlin was such an open book that Arthur knew it all. Or at least he thought he did.

His heart beat heavy in his chest. And the question never made it into the air.

Finally, Leon broke the solemn silence that hung above all their heads.

“Look, Gwaine, you really don't need to lie about being a lady-killer. We'll love you either way.”

The knights burst into a much needed uproarious laughter and even a chuckle escaped from Merlin and Arthur.

“But I've been with loads of women!” Gwaine protested. “The witch was mistaken!”

“Sure, sure,” Percival spoke dismissively. “We definitely believe you and not some super scary witchy curse, Gwaine.”

And with that the knights rose to their feet and continued on with their journey. Arthur’s eyes lingering on Merlin's arm just a fraction of a second too long.

[my-my-my]

I have an idea about working with Aisen. How about Aisen accidentally hurt his s/o, you can choose the situation yourself. And can u do Aizen Hueco Mundo version, please?

Yes of course! Thank you for your kind compliment and for your request! I received similar requests as well, so these will be answered together.

TW: this is SFW but it is very angst heavy! There are descriptions of physical pain.

Word Count: 1917

Read on AO3 here.

Las Noches was perpetually silent. The arrancars remained in their kingdoms most of the time, only meeting with Lord Aizen to convene on strategy and general war preparations. Sometimes you attended these meetings, other times you were doing reconnaissance for him and his soldiers.

Today, you were free. You remembered Lord Aizen telling you it was optional to attend the upcoming meetings, as it wouldn’t concern you. If it were anyone else, they would believe him, as he was an exceptional liar, but for as long as you had been with him, you sensed he wasn’t being truthful.

Lately you wondered why you remained here. Your reconnaissance days seem few and far between, and Lord Aizen had kept you away from several meetings as of late.

It made you feel useless.

It didn’t help that as of late, Lord Aizen was standoffish and cold towards you. To outsiders, his actions towards you were normal, he was cold, callous and calculative to everyone around him. But a small part of you, which grew larger and larger as the days went by, wanted to yell at him that you weren’t like “everyone else.” Your loyalty and devotion were to him, and it hurt you to be treated like a common soldier.

You shared the same bed, but when was the last time he fell asleep next to you?

You shared private quarters with him, yet when was he there with you?

Every day you told yourself that this would pass. Lord Aizen was meticulous in his plans and that this was a necessary step for the larger goal. He would be successful and hopefully… hopefully the frigid attitude would melt away. But as the days continued on, the seed of doubt slowly grew.

You weren’t sure where you were walking towards (or from) in Lord Aizen’s palace. Your mind was in disarray, as you walked through the familiar halls and corridors. Your mind wandered to places outside of Las Noches, to places further past Hueco Mundo. To the warmth of Soul Society, where you enjoyed the field of wildflowers, to the fireworks in the night sky.

While your mind wandered, your body took you along the familiar route to Lord Aizen’s strategy hall. You weren’t sure what drew you here to begin with, a force of habit? A sense of longing?

But before you could dwell on the thought further, your body was hit with agonizing pain. You were being crushed by raw spiritual pressure. You couldn’t make out the voices or the sensations as your body convulsed in pain. Your mind wouldn’t stop racing, thoughts swirling with memories of times long forgotten. The pressure continued, and you felt as if your mind was disconnected from your body. You became acutely aware of the dress Lord Aizen had designed for you, clinging to you painfully. Your body continued to sear with pain, the intensity becoming too much, as if it would break your bones. The pain continued to the point where you felt disoriented, where you began to stumble forward. You thought you saw someone kneeling with blue, and someone else standing, but before you could register the figures, an intense wave of nausea hit you.

You wanted to say something, as your mind processed that it was Lord Aizen and Grimmjow that you were seeing, but as soon as you opened your mouth, your body lurched as vomit and saliva dribbled from your lips, before you collapsed into darkness.

Your body felt incredibly weak, pulverized almost, yet confusion ran through you as you couldn’t recognize the room you were in. The dress you were wearing was gone, instead it was your nightwear instead. You tried to sit up, but tears pricked your eyes as you struggled. Your body remained in pain, and everything hurt.

A familiar hand placed itself on your forehead. Something was said, but your ears were still ringing, as tears continued to pour down your face. Then, the same hand that was on your forehead, emitted a faint, light green glow, and you began to feel numb, the pain slowly dissipating.

You opened your eyes to see Lord Aizen watching you, as he placed his hand over your body. Exhaustion hit your body as his kaido spell worked itself all over you. His eyebrows were furrowed, but his eyes remained distant.

His voice still sounded muffled and distorted to you, but you could make out that he wanted you to lift your arms, to which you complied. The pain was decreasing overall as his hands ran over your body several times.

“I’m sorry, Lord Aizen.” You sobbed. You weren’t even sure what you were apologizing for, but you wanted him to say something to you, something directly to you, about you and him – not for this goal of his, not for his palace, not for his soldiers, but you.

But there was no response from him as he continued healing your body.

Your heavy breathing filled the otherwise silent room. Lord Aizen meticulously inspected your body for any other injuries, as his kaido spell continued to work over you, until it dissipated into thin air. You closed your eyes, flexing every finger and toe to ensure that they were able to move, when you felt a large hand encompass your own. Your eyes shot open as you stared at Lord Aizen, who remained silent, but gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

His face was unreadable, but his hand was warm as his fingers interlocked with yours. It was then you looked around the room. This was nothing like your private quarters in Las Noches.

“Where are we, Lord Aizen?” You struggled to ask. Your mouth was incredibly dry.

“In the realm of the living.” He curtly responded, watching your reaction.

You sighed, somewhat in relief, but also of sadness.

“I suppose I’m of no use to you now if I’m here.” You murmured, looking at the way his hand engulfed your own.

The room remained silent as tears pricked your eyes again. Your worst fear was coming true, and your heart felt like it was being squeezed to oblivion.

“You’ve performed your duty well. There’s nothing more to ask of you.” Lord Aizen said, letting go of your hand and cupping your face. He was lying to you again. You saw a brief flash of remorse in his brown eyes, but what you were seeing now was a vacant man.

“You’re lying.” You harshly whispered, surprising yourself with how angry you sounded.

Lord Aizen momentarily looked shocked, but his vacant stare reappeared. “It’s not safe for you in Las Noches anymore.” He calmly explained, rubbing the tears away from your eyes. His hand was incredibly warm to your cool skin, but his words rang empty in your heart.

But you were too tired to argue with him, too exhausted to care anymore.

“The captains and humans are approaching Las Noches soon.” Lord Aizen remarked, “and I will be leaving to Karakura Town.”

You nodded into his palm, knowing it was a waste of time to argue why you should be fighting alongside with him. Lord Aizen was particular about his plans, and as hurt as you were, both physically and mentally, you were in no shape to aid him.

Lord Aizen let go of your face and the two of you held hands, cherishing the silence.

“What is this place though, Lord Aizen?” You asked, as you slowly took in the space. It was beautifully decorated, but nothing like Las Noches at all. It seemed warm, bright and inviting.

“Your - our home. I suppose.” He admitted, as he began to help you out of the bed. He held your hand and guided you to the window, where you were greeted with a breathtaking view, rolling hills and wildflowers, and to the distance, a body of water.

You gasped, taking in the scenery, “this is beautiful, Lord Aizen, thank you!” You smiled at him, as you took in the air, view and sounds. It felt real, the sun hitting your skin, the faint perfume of the flowers.

“There’s a town nearby, who is in need of a florist.” He explained, watching your reaction. “These flowers are yours alone, as is this home and everything inside it. There’s something else I want to show you.”

Lord Aizen guided you outside, past the field to a lone, singular, yet incredible wisteria tree. The tree was adorned by thousands of lilac blossoms that gently danced in the breeze. “This is imbued with some of my reiatsu,” Lord Aizen explained, as he placed the palm of his hand on the tree’s trunk. “My presence will always be with you here.”

It was then it dawned on you…

This was a goodbye.

Tears welled in your eyes again, as your heart shattered. “You’ll come back once this is over?” You asked as tears continued to pour.

Lord Aizen didn’t say anything but embrace you gently. You cried into his chest as you tried to remember everything about him, to the firmness of his chest, to the warmth of his embrace. He tilted your head up and placed a gentle kiss on your lips, then kissed your eyelids and forehead.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stood under the wisteria tree, but eventually he took you back home. Night began to fall, and he quietly prepared you dinner, ensuring that there were nutrients to nourish your healing body. The two of you spent the remainder in each other’s arms and quietly reminiscing. And it was the first time, in what you felt was an eternity, of sharing a bed with him. Your body fell asleep quickly in his arms, as you were lulled to sleep by his heartbeat.

But by morning he was gone.

“He’ll come back, I know he will.” You said aloud, as you began to prepare yourself for the day.

But deep in your heart, you knew… that may have been the last time you would see him.

Several years had passed since the day you were brought here. Every day you would look out the window, expecting Lord Aizen to come through the fields, but no one was coming. Your heart couldn’t bear it, so you kept yourself distracted by growing your florist shop and business. While you never left the home he built you, you never set foot in near the wisteria tree.

Yet now you were here, walking towards it. You noticed a small, wooden bench underneath and sat down under the heavy blossoms, as petals danced in the wind. Shock ran through you, as you felt it – you felt him. You turned around and faced the tree, placing your hand on the trunk. His familiar spirit lingered all around you, as if he was there himself, the branches swayed a bit harder, as if they acknowledged his presence too. It was then you knew, he was somehow watching you, as you quietly began to tell him about what had transpired since the day he left.

In Muken, Aizen became acutely aware of his growing reiatsu, and the far reaches it had beyond the confines of his prison, Soul Society and beyond. Every day, he would sense where you were in a world without him.

It was then he felt you near the wisteria tree had placed. Under his seals, coverings and bindings, Aizen smiled to himself as the gentleness of your spirit enveloped him, filling him with a sense of peace.

I hope you enjoy this anon! Thank you for reading!!

[sundrop-writes]

if ur taking requests then how about female reader being a bau member and is receiving unwanted attention from the local cops but she cant pick up on social cues very well so it’s extra stressful for her to naviagte

Then enter protective and somewhat jealous jj that tries to protect her and shows her what true love and respect is with soft softdom!jj

I really like this, but I like the idea of it more as a short then a full fic, so... here we go.

JJ Being Protective of You - (Jennifer Jareau x Fem!Autistic!Reader)

Warnings: some harassing behaviour from a random male cop towards the reader; the man uses condescending pet names toward the reader; JJ goes full boss mode; use of the term L/N (as in 'Last Name') to refer to the reader; she reader uses she/her pronouns; the reader experiences a small accidental injury; pre-established relationship. Idk what else. Not proofread.

Paperwork. This is where you thrived. Much like Spencer, you loved a good paper trail.

You were currently in the back room of the police station, going through their old case files, looking at every case from the last forty years that had yet to be digitised. You were looking for previous murders that matched the signature of the killer the team was currently after, since the working theory was that the UnSub had 'taken on' the work of his father or another older figure in his life.

So you had to dig through all the files of unsolved murders and see if you could find a pattern stemming back - to see if you could find more killings that this father might have committed.

It was stuffy and dusty in the file room, but you were finding it to be the kind of work that you did best - your brain churning on all cylinders as you looked through the many files for all the markers in the killings that would have aligned with his killer. You put some files aside and closed the lid on a box, and then moved to a new stack, going to take down a box from 1973 - it was rather heavy and awkward to lift, but you could manage it.

"Oh, little lady, let me help you with that,"

Suddenly, someone appeared beside you, as if out of nowhere, and a second pair of hands began tugging on the box.

"I got it." You grunted out, tugging the box back in your direction, trying to get a better grip on it.

"Trust me, doll, someone like you shouldn't be lugging this crap around on your own." The man's voice argued, becoming slightly strained - angry?

Was he frustrated because it was too heavy for him to lift? Did he feel like he had to help because you looked weak and he was frustrated because of the social obligation?

"It's fine." You assured him, tugging on it again. But - he still wouldn't let go. "I'm stronger than I look, trust me."

That was something that Emily and Derek often joked about. You had used a shovel to break a double welded chain in order to get into a basement when a child was in danger. The police had been arguing about getting a warrant and talking about how they would need heavy duty bolt cutters to get through the chain away, and you were down there in minutes - and from then on, the team all agreed not to mess with you. Especially not in an emergency.

"Sweetie, just let go of it-"

His grip slipped off the box, and it went flying in the opposite direction then, and one of the sharp corners smacked you on the head - a piercing pain went through your whole forehead and and papers came flying out of the box, spilling across the floor and fluttering everywhere.

"Oh my god, ow!" You exclaimed loudly, stepping backward, raising a hand to your forehead toward the throbbing pain. You were alarmed when you felt wetness, and you quickly drew your fingers back and saw blood.

"Oh, goodness. I'm sorry, darlin'." The man appeared in front of you, and soon, completely unprompted, he put his hands on both of your cheeks, trying to lift your head to better inspect the cut. "See, that's why you shouldn't-"

"Don't touch me!" You screamed, reaching up inside of his forearms to shove his hands off you. Your skin was crawling with a terrible, icky itch where his hands had been touching you.

He became slack-jawed with shock at this.

"There's no need to shout." He chuckled. "Calm down."

"Ugh, no!" You shouted back.

You were suddenly feeling terribly trapped in the small, stuffy, dusty room, and though you knew that the papers needed to be cleaned up and you needed to finish your fishing expedition for the trail of murders - you had to leave. You needed air.

You needed JJ.

You shoved past the man and your feet carried you as fast as you could go, frantically looking for that head of blonde hair.

"Listen, babydoll, just calm down-"

"Woah, woah, her name is not babydoll."

That voice. Your hero.

You blinked past a haze if tears you hadn't even noticed was forming, and saw the pale blue shirt and blonde hair that you knew was her - you ran to stand behind her, grabbing her hand tightly, which she gripped back, grounding you, letting you know that she was right there.

"I'm not sure what kind of slack operation you people run around here, but we are professionals. You are going to refer to her by her full title, Special Agent L/N - or you won't talk to her at all. You won't even look at her. Do you understand me?" JJ barked at him.

The pure authority dripping from her voice made you feel so utterly safe.

"Listen, m'am, I'm not sure-"

"It's not 'm'am', it's Agent." JJ corrected him, now straining through her teeth, absolutely seething. "We are here representing the FBI, trying to catch a very dangerous man to help keep your town safe. We're not just little secretaries skittering around to get you your coffee and clean up after you. Just because we're women, we're not here to wipe your ass!"

You heard a chuckle from behind you, and you thought it was Emily's voice. This was followed by a low whistle - probably Derek.

"Is that clear?" JJ finished off, daring the man to talk back to her.

The man sighed and turned around to leave, finally defeated. This is when JJ turned to you.

"Are you okay?" She asked, her voice much softer now. "Oh my god, what happened to your head?"

"There was... a box..." You mumbled quietly, still feeling shaken up.

"He hit you with a box?" JJ snapped, looking back in the direction he had walked off.

"JJ, please." You begged, quietly, squeezing her hand, directing her attention back to you.

She knew what her priority was right now.

"Come on,"

JJ walked you to the bathroom, and as she was cleaning up the cut with a damp paper towel, she was still huffing hard through her nose, the anger still pumping through her.

"I'm going to find that guy's supervisor, I'm going to put in a report about him, I'm going to-"

"It's okay, JJ." You said, reaching out to run a gentle hand along her lower back. "I'm pretty sure he's not gonna come near me again after what you said."

She let out a snort of laughter, and half her mouth upturned in a smile. You both knew that she could be incredibly intimidating despite her looks, and she always protected you - just one of the many things that had attracted you to her in the first place.

"Yeah, well... nobody comes near my girl and gets away with it."

[cromerhearts]

NSFW BELOW - MDNI!!!!!!!

yunho x f!reader

summary: you have a very nice surprise for yuyu after your shower.

genre: smut, slight fluff (?), established relationship. idk it’s just horny

wc: ~950-1000

content and/or warnings: nothing too crazy, kind of domestic?, fingering, implied light overstimulation, cum play if you squint, pet names (baby, slut, princess), dirty talk, reader has a vagina, once again came to me in a vision, may or may not be loosely based on real life, whoops!

likes and reblogs encouraged— thank you for reading!!

NSFW below the cut!!!! — MDNI!!

———

Hopping out of the shower on legs wobblier than a newborn deer, you bid farewell to the shower head after being in there longer than you intended. If you had remembered how strong the water pressure was, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten too lost in the sauce. Cold air slipped in from under the bathroom door, fueling your urgency to move quicker so you could hop into your warm bed.

You made quick work of drying yourself off and mentally patted your own back for bringing pajamas into the bathroom instead of forcing yourself to walk naked through the chilly hallway. Not too much later, you were finally able to throw yourself into bed, landing on top of your boyfriend, who was already half asleep himself.

“Finally,” Yunho huffed, groaning dramatically as he gently rolled you off of him, turning both of you on your sides to spoon you. He was nice and warm, a contrast to the air outside of your shared bed. You couldn’t help but twitch as he wrapped an arm around your torso to pull you closer; if Yunho noticed, he didn’t acknowledge it. “You took forever in there.”

“Sorry,” you choked out, your apology punctuated by the sound of you clearing your throat. “I didn’t think I would.”

Warm breath fanned over the back of your neck, while any conversation Yunho was trying to have with you was no longer processing in your brain. Pressing your thighs together proved to be unhelpful since it only made you slightly jumpy and there was no avoiding the trembling in your sore hips from your shower. You had no idea why you were being so shy right now, but after your date with the detachable shower head you felt like you had accidentally fucked yourself dumb.

Yunho drew lazy circles on your tummy with his fingertips, as every fiber in your being kept you from spasming with every inch his finger slid lower. A gasp tore from your throat as the tip of his middle finger crossed the threshold of your sleep shorts, your legs tensing. Your boyfriend paused.

“Do you want me to stop?” Yunho’s voice was soft, hand slowly retreating and his large palm coming to a stop on your tummy.

“No,” your voice was even softer, and you weren’t sure if Yunho heard you at first. “no. Don’t stop.”

Yunho made a noise of satisfaction, pushing his hand back down your shorts and nudging your thighs wider apart. He wasted no time, not even daring to deny you what you clearly want. When his middle finger finally found the very slippery lips of your cunt, you whimpered.

“Oh? What is this?” You couldn’t see Yunho, but you could hear the teasing smirk in his voice upon noticing your lack of underwear. To make things worse, he wasted zero time sliding his finger around, spreading your cum around your swollen clit. “Is this what took you so long, princess?”

What annoyed you the most was that your boyfriend acted like this was the most common occurrence in the world while you twitched in his arms, panting like a bitch in heat.

Yunho scooted back on the bed, rolling you onto your back to lay next to him. You let him manhandle you, one of your hands pulling him closer by the front of his t-shirt. Hoping to close the gap between you two, you tried to crane your neck up for a kiss. The attempt was futile as Yunho snaked his arm under your back, hand hooking around to wrap around your neck, holding you just out of reach from his lips.

“My pretty little slut,” Yunho gave your throat a small squeeze, finally leaning in just close enough that his lips just brushed against yours as he spoke. His middle and ring fingers were relentless now, swiping your clit back and forth at an antagonizing slow pace. You moaned into his mouth, your other hand gripping the forearm of the arm down your bottoms. “Couldn’t even wait till you got to bed, huh? You’re so fucking wet, fuck.”

Full sentences were suddenly out of your skillset as you shivered and jerked at his ministrations, drool beginning to pool at the corners of your mouth. You could swear that your whole pussy was pulsing at this point.

“Yeah, yeah,” nodding feverishly and whining your boyfriend’s name in a tone slightly more desperate than you intended, your hips weakly bucking up into his palm. “P-please, Yunho.”

“How many times did you cum, princess?” Yunho propped himself up on his elbow and readjusted you in his arms. You keened at the way he inserted his fingers to the first knuckle, seemingly playing around in the wetness of your pussy. His hand squeezed your throat just slightly, mimicking the squeeze around his fingers. “I know you can’t have just one. Tight, slutty pussy. My pretty baby.”

“I-“ your breath quickened, only thinking about the feeling of his fingers against your bare cunt. The memory of using the shower head to rip orgasm after orgasm from your body made you moan. Yunho squeezed your throat in warning, this time a bit tighter. “M-more than five.”

In the dim light, you could see and feel his lips curling up into a teasing grin. Yunho pressed a soft kiss to your lips, then the corner of your mouth. He pulled his fingers from your cunt, moving to your clit to rub the swollen nub tight circles and he swore he could see the moment every single thought in your head slipped away.

Yunho giggled at the way you began to paw at the waistband of your shorts, legs desperately spreading wider for him. A warm, toe-curling feeling began to pool in your stomach, a sign of your approaching orgasm.

“Yeah? Think you can give me one more, princess?”

[twistyfish]

prompt~ rafayel fluff -> angst where he’s rude and apologizes after. requested by anon!

“Why did you paint my acne scars so clearly?”

“Because they’re on your face!”

While you were normally impressed by Rafayel’s attention to detail, today it was making you very self conscious. “Was there really a reason to include them, though? They’re temporary marks that aren’t a part of me. And you literally drew the individual pores on my nose- Raf, this is so unflattering.”

“Quit micromanaging me. Art isn’t supposed to judge itself, you know.”

You huffed at his response. “But art is supposed to be pretty. This is not pretty. It’s uncanny. It looks too much like me, I don’t like it.”

He chuckled. “You don’t like that the portrait I’m painting of you looks like you? You’re so interesting, cutie.”

“Stop, you know what I mean.”

He didn’t turn his head, but his gaze flitted to meet yours before returning to the canvas. “Just trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

You watched the brush flutter around the canvas like moth wings, leaving intricate strokes in its wake. As Rafayel became more engrossed in his process, you left him to work and went out with a few girls from your team.

You had a nice time catching up with them and getting coffee. Well, two of you got coffee and Tara got hot chocolate.

When you returned a few hours later, he was staring at the painting with a look of intense scrutiny. You walked up to him quietly.

A little too quietly, because when you put a hand on his shoulder, he tensed and his paintbrush created a small splotch on the canvas mid-stroke.

“Oh! I’m sorr-“ you started, but he cut you off.

“Are you kidding me? I just finished painting that section.”

Your heart sank a little. You felt genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I don’t care what you meant to do. You ruined it. There’s a huge smudge over the nose.” His shoulders were tense, and he was holding himself more rigidly than he had been when you left.

“Raf, I think you should take a break.”

“Oh, so just because I’m upset that you interfered with my painting, I’m being irrational?”

“That’s not what I-“

“Don’t think I didn’t notice. The spot where you made me mess up is right on top of the part you didn’t like. If you’re that insecure, you shouldn’t have asked me to paint you.”

Your mouth opened slightly. “What?” You said harshly.

“You heard me. Why ask me to paint your face if you’re going to criticize me every step of the way?”

“Stop. I accidentally startled you and you made a mistake because of it. Are you seriously accusing me of sabotaging your painting because of that?”

“Maybe.”

You stared at him blankly. “I can’t believe you.”

“I can’t believe you either.”

You shook your head and picked up your bag, walking toward the exit. You weren’t going to argue with him like this.

Your mind spun. Why was he acting like this?

Fortunately, he seemed to come to his senses fast because you didn’t even make it halfway home before the phone rang. You accepted the call half heartedly.

“Hey,” his voice rang through the phone.

“Hi,” you said with a flat tone.

“I’m a dick.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have called you insecure and I shouldn’t have accused you of anything. I’m the one who messed up.”

“It’s not a huge deal, but yeah, you shouldn’t have.”

“No, it was unnecessary. And what I said about me not painting you? That was stupid. I love painting you. I would paint you all day if I could. I can’t capture your likeness perfectly, but trying to recreate that radiance makes me so, so happy.”

Your lips spread into a smile hearing that. “Really?”

“Really. I got too defensive over my art of you, but that wasn’t cool because I snapped at the real you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Raf. I forgive you.”

“Yay!”

[slashersdaddy]

Hallo! I absolutely love Your writing! Can you make Another writing about Slasher x S/O that Accidentally Kill The Slasher Victim/Target? But with Jason, Michael, Brahms And Maybe Stu? I'm sorry if it was Too much To Ask. Take your time!

Of course! I love drawing for those guys!!!! I appreciate the support for my writing! Its not too much at all! I went ahead with using GN reader, since you didn't specify what gender, and i like writing GN anyhow! AS USUAL! MDNI: ALSO THERE ARE CLEARLY MENTIONS OF MURDER, ALSO BLOOD AND GORE+ A MAKEOUT SCENE

Authors note at the verrrryy end ;)

Jason Voorhees:

Jason's eyes raked over your blood soaked form, his mind reeling as you stood- over the blood soaked body. Hands shaking as you opened and closed your mouth several times, trying to find your words, but alas; you found nothing. Now dont get him wrong, Jason thought the look of you, soaked in blood was beautiful, but frightening- as this meant he had failed at keeping the victims away from the cabin.

No, failed at knowing where the victims were, and that in of itself was a grave crime. He walked towards you, lowering his blood drenched machete to the floor and pulling you into his broad chest, a low rumble of a hum escaping him. Jason is a man of few words, especially in times of stress, being mostly mute, but his voice- rough with misuse and drowning, came through the air like a soft comfort "I'm so sorry teddy bear, dont worry, your safe now" His tender words soothed you, and you felt yourself relaxing into his embrace, a breath heaving out of your chest that you didn't even realize you had been holding. Tenderly he led you to the small bathroom, running the water while sitting on the edge of the tub, you nestled into his lap as he drew the hot bath.

Soon the tub was full and Jason carefully and methodically removed your clothes, just as you found your words. "I-I'm sorry Jase, i just- they came in and i-" Your shaking voice pierced his cold heart like a sharp blade, his rough fingers stroking your hair, his blue yes finding yours under his mask as he lowered your shaking form into the warm water "Its alright, dont worry" He gently rubbed the blood off your trembling form with a wet rag, his eyes soft and calm as he cleansed your form. You sat in the bath for well over an hour, his silent form just rubbing away all of the blood until the water had turned a deep crimson and run cold.

As you rose from the bath, he wrapped a large towel around you. The towel was large and smelt of the forest and petrichor, mixing with Jason's scent as he carried you to your shared bedroom, laying you tenderly on the bed, pulling the blankets back and wrapping around you as though you were his stuffed animal, his hands tangling in your hair as he scratched your scalp with a contented hum.

Before you fell asleep only one thought crossed your mind- "He's right, I'll be fine, as long as i have him"

Michael Myers

As you watched, in seemingly slow motion as the would be victim lunged at Michael your instincts took over- your hands grasping a nearby butchers knife as you threw your body onto the attacker, driving the knife into his chest. Once, Twice, Three times. Before strong hands pulled you off and Michael's soothing voice broke your haze. "Its over. He's dead dove" The nickname he had called you for so long felt wrong in that moment as you began to shake, dropping the knife to the floor with a loud clatter, your hands flying over your mouth, the warm blood covering you a sickening sensation.

Michaels piercing eyes trailed your body, searching for wounds. He couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips as he saw you, his beautiful dove, drenched in blood and gore- as though you were his very own angel he was corrupting- it was exhilarating.

But alas- he pushed those thoughts aside in favor of hugging you close, his strong arms trapping you in his warmth, the soft thumping of his heart soothing your frayed nerves. Michael took you to the bathroom, guiding your shaken form, his large hand rested on the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles. Michael knew he needed to focus on you right now, and not in the way his mind initially went when he saw you- stabbing the man who was meant to be his victim. So he sat on the toilet, running the bath till it was full, holding your body close to his own and kissing your face, to ease your stress, it was a silly thing, since he was really just smooshing your face with his mask, but it made you smile, and to Michael that's all that mattered. Once the water was up to the brim Michael stripped you, the clothes hitting the floor with a wet disgusting squelch as he put you into the water, grabbing his body wash and washing you with it. Normally he didn't like you using his soap, a peculiarity thing he had, but right now, he figured he'd rather you smell like him than like some wimp. so he worked on cleansing your body, hands nimble and soft on your flesh as he tended to you as though you were a frightened lamb.

Soon you found yourself in the living room once more, donned in one of Michaels oversized t-shirts and a pair of your own underwear, curled in the Halloween killers lap atop the couch, resting your head on his chest while you watched 'nightmare before Christmas' an old favorite of yours that Michael rarely sat though, not without busying himself with something else, but tonight, just for his little dove, he would sit with you, and let you hide in him while taking in the comfort of a familiar movie.

Brahms Heelshire

As your weapon of choice- a large metal pipe you had seen laying around made contact with the mans skull your eyes widened- the sickening crunch much louder than you ever thought it could be, the scream of pain cut short as his jaw was mangled, his body slumping to the floor, thrashing as he passed. Your mind reeled, and you found yourself leaned over- puking up what you had eaten earlier, it was sickening- the smell of death- the-the way the blood pooled in the carpet, surly to leave a stain.

The way your mind had rushed with dopamine at the way you smashed his skull. It was all too much, too much for you to bear. You honestly hadn't even felt Brahms arms wrap around your torso, or him pulling you into his chest until you felt the world stop spinning and looked up to see you were in the kitchen, sitting on a chair while he busied himself with making you tea, his head perking up at the sound of you moving and turning to you, his voice cherry as always "You are so so good, you followed the rules so well honeysuckle!"The endearing term brought you back down to reality- right, you HAD to do it, for Brahms, for his safety and so he wouldn't be hurt- it was only normal right? You reasoned with yourself, after all you took care of him, and he shouldn't deal with any more pain than he already had, you nod to yourself as he sets the cup in front of you, the scent overwhelming any lingering scents on you, lavender and chamomile, a calming sweet scent that rose to your nose quickly.

Brahms hands were gentle as he began to massage your tense shoulders, nuzzling into the back of your neck as you slowly rose the cup to your lips, taking a small slow sip of the liquid gold.

The rest of the night was a blur, Brahms leading you to your room, tucking you in and placing his doll beside you on the bed before taking his station near the door, watching you with a small smile as you cuddled into the warm blankets "That's right honeysuckle- your mine forever"

Stu Matcher:

Stu's eyes roamed over your blood soaked form as you tried desperately to tell him you weren't in fact the killer; but your words failed you.

only for Stu to laugh and smile at you shaking his head, walking over the body at your feet to pull you into an embrace, whispering in your ear- voice low and rumbling as he said "Oh I know that sweet thing~ its okay, you were just doing your best to survive, but you dont have to be scared of any big bad killer- ill protect you my little lamb" His voice was like honey- but held a chilling realization for you, the guy you had killed- he wasn't the Ghostface killer; rather your loving boyfriend was. The feeling was like a tidal wave crashing into you, but so soon followed by relief.

Stu wouldnt abandon you; he would stay even with the blood on both your hands nothing changed, you realiized as he crashed his lips against yours in a dominating and affectionate moment.

The kiss was deep and powerful, leaving you breathless as he pulled away, a strand of saliva connecting you for just a moment. snapped as Stu licked his lips "Its okay, now lets get this asshole in the ground yeah?" He asked, his usual playful demeanor coming back, and so you nodded, taking the spare Ghostface mask he held out "And on and on it goes"

AUTHORS NOTE: I ADORED writing this, especially Stu's part; if enough interest is shown (Or the parasites demand ;P) I may make that a whole fic and not a snippet; but that remains to be seen~ Happy spooky month my lovely little freaks!

[fandomfucker]

Jealous-Drew McIntyre X Reader

Request: Drew gets jealous when he sees reader talking to CM Punk backstage

Word count: 1,351

Reader's POV

Yet another Monday night Raw and I was lucky enough to be watching from the comfort of my boyfriend Drew's dressing room. We usually were separated, I was at home with our cat Chaz while he was however far away for work. Tonight's episode, however, was only an hour's drive away from our home so I was able to go to the show and hang out and watch his match. His match wasn't until later on in the night but he was busy doing press stuff for the first hour or so, so I didn't mind watching alone on the TV until he could get back. Two matches into the show, however, my stomach loudly grumbled, letting me know I was starving. And I was craving chocolate chip muffins. Which they just so happened to have in catering. I knew that Drew had requested I stay in the room, for my own safety, but I was hungry and had no idea when he would actually be back. So, I sent him a quick text letting him know where I was going before I grabbed one of his hoodies that was always way too big for me, pulled it on, and exited the room.

I walked down the cold hallway, admiring all the cool artwork on the walls, taking a turn or two before stopping to look around when I realized I'd walked into a dead end. "The fuck?" I mumbled to myself as I turned back around. Drew had walked me past catering earlier when we were going to his dressing room and I could've sworn it was down this hallway. Nevertheless, I made my way back down that hallway and turned to go the opposite way of which I had originally gone. Only to take another couple of turns that I thought were right, only for me to end up at another dead end. A different dead end that I didn't recognize. Now, I was officially lost in this maze of back hallways where everything looked the exact same. I had walked so far in that there wasn't even any artwork anymore, just plain gray walls. Not to mention, there was not a single other soul around me to point me in the right direction because they were all off doing their jobs. Patting my pockets to grab my phone and at the very least, see if I could find a map of the backstage online since Drew wouldn't be able to answer, I found them all to be empty. I let out a small grunt of frustration at the realization that I had accidentally left my phone in the dressing room. Without my phone and entirely by myself, I decided to just keep walking until I either came across another person, got back to Drew's dressing room, or found catering where I would stay put until Drew came and got me. I started walking, keeping aware of my surroundings as not only was it terrifying back here, but also just in case I saw someone. What felt like an hour later but was probably only a few minutes, I looked down the hallway to my left at a fork in the hallway and saw the back of someone walking in the opposite direction while they looked at their phone. "Hey!" I called out, beginning to jog over to them. I stopped dead in my tracks though when they turned around, revealing their identity. My jaw involuntarily clenched at the realization of who I was now talking to. A sly grin grew on his face as he took a step forward, holding out his hand as if to shake. "Hey, Y/N, right? I'm CM Punk." I nodded sharply, "I know." I eyed him warily as he took another small step forward, matching my step back as I refused his handshake. I looked around to see if there was anyone else around that I could ask for help, the sworn enemy of my boyfriend being the last person on Earth I wanted to ask for help. We were completely alone. "Um, I kind of got a bit lost back here, do you know where catering is?" I asked him, a hard edge to my voice as I avoided eye contact. "Sure thing!" He grinned, "Follow me." Reluctantly, and with no other options, I did. I made sure to walk behind him, throwing him a tight-lipped smile whenever he looked over his shoulder to make sure I was still following. Thankfully, we walked in silence the whole way there but it was a thick, tense silence.

I could hear silverware clanking together and the soft murmur of chatter as we came up to the entrance to where catering had set up. Punk stopped and turned towards me, purposefully blocking me from entering and making me choke on my sigh of relief upon arriving. With us both standing next to the wall, he lifted his good arm and rested it on the wall above my head, effectively caging me against the wall when his other hand rested on the wall by my hip. I frantically looked around for someone, anyone else at this point to come and save me, to no avail.

He leaned in close as I held my breath but before he could say whatever he was about to say, I heard a deep, accented, voice yell out from across the room. "Hey, you bastard!" I released the breath I'd been holding but my eyes widened when Drew stormed up and yanked Punk away from me by the scruff of his neck, and threw him to the floor a few feet away. Just before he turned to continue going after Punk, I saw the pure fury on Drew's face. It was cartoonish almost, with his face all red and puffy with anger I half expected steam to start coming out of his ears. Darting forward, I grabbed his arm just before he started moving, pulling him back towards me. He realized it was me before he could shrug me off and let me pull him away even though he was much stronger than me. Gently, he gripped my arm and started to walk us away when Punk started laughing at him from where he lay on the floor, calling him a coward. He stopped mid-stride and looked at me. "Save it for the ring," I whispered, not wanting him to get into any trouble. He turned, spit at Punk's feet, and then continued walking the two of us back to his dressing room. It was silent the whole way there, his unadulterated anger prominent between us as I began to feel guilty for leaving the room after he'd asked me not to. As soon as he shut the dressing room door behind us I turned to him to explain why I had left and was with Punk of all people but he lifted a finger, silently telling me to be quiet. Not wanting to anger him anymore, I stayed silent. He began to pace the room as I stood by the door nervously. "What were you doing with him? I thought I told you to stay in here. I kept calling you and you weren't answering." He finally questioned, his voice low and his Scottish accent thick in his anger. "I left to go get food from catering and got lost and I had left my phone in here by accident and he was the first person I saw and I didn't realize it was him til' he turned around and then we got there and he cornered me and I'm so sorry." I rambled, hoping it was at least coherent enough for him to understand what I was saying. He stopped pacing and just stared at me for a long moment before extending his arms out to me. I rushed into his arms and he held me tightly to his chest and stroked my hair as I continued to murmur apologies against his chest. "It's okay," he shushed me, pulling away to cup my face in his hands. "I'll kill him later, but please promise me that if I ask you not to leave this room you don't leave." I nodded profusely, "I won't, I swear." He nodded back and smiled, pulling my face in to kiss my forehead. "Good, now let's go get you a snack."

[kotoku]

chilchuck x reader - cherry wine

synopsis - the group had been planning a hangout at the local bar for a while now. it was only a few months later when everyone’s schedule had aligned that everyone was able to meet up. seeing chilchuck there had brought up the buried feelings you kept to yourself. how will this night unfold, you wonder.

pairings - chilchuck tims x reader

warnings - not so family-friendly words / drinking

word count - 1.8k

The bar was packed with people varying in species, swarming the dance floor as they swayed and twirled to the beat of the music playing over the loudspeakers. You were amongst those people, skittering across the dance floor as you followed in rhythm to the song that was currently playing. 

The group that you had shown up with had split into their interests. Whether it was drinking at the reserved booth or chatting with an old friend, you didn’t know, but as long as they were having fun! 

The group in question consisted of Laios, Falin, Marcille, Chilchuck, Senshi, and Izutsumi. A very unique gang but that’s what drew you in. Everyone had varying personalities and you loved each vibe they had given off, thus propelling you into forming a tight-knit bond with the group. 

With a glance toward the booth you knew they were seated at, you only saw Senshi, Izutsumi, and Chilchuck, all seemingly drinking their beverages while chatting away. Of course, Senshi had made sure of only giving Izutsumi alcohol-free drinks, Chilchuck almost accidentally giving her a shot before it was slapped away by the older man. The memory had made you chuckle.

The upbeat dancing slowly started tiring you out, causing you to retreat to your seat with a huff. Izutsumi and Senshi had given you an acknowledging glance before returning to their conversation, Chilchuck giving you an amused glance as he took a chug of his ale.

“Tired already? Sheesh, your stamina is lacking.” He teased, giving you a smug smirk. You rolled your eyes in response, giving him a small shove. 

“Whatever you say, old man. Bet the only thing you’d manage is a couple of cracks and pops before you’re tired out.”

“Old!? You’re not that much younger so I’d say you’re old too!” Chilchuck crossed his arms, offended at being called ‘old’ as he was only 29. You laughed, waving a worker over so you could place an order for some water. 

“How’s your shop been, Chil?” You hummed, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand. He seemed to have visibly grimaced, sighing heavily before answering. “It’s been fine, damn workers have been slacking off though.” 

“Really now? I thought you had a good eye for candidates.” You thanked the waiter as she placed down the glass in front of you. Taking a couple of swigs of your drink, you continued listening to Chilchuck's small rant. 

“Yeah well— turns out that people may not always be what they seem. They were pretty chipper at first, but I think they’re starting to take things for granted.” 

“Hmm…” You hummed to yourself, deep in thought. 

“Hey! What if I worked for you?” Chilchuck almost spat out his drink in surprise, coughing into his elbow. “You? Work for me? Psh, as if you’d leave that comfy desk job of yours.”

“What!? It’s been getting kinda boring lately, things aren’t the same as they used to be. It wouldn’t hurt being some kind of manager for your shop!” You whined, slouching over the table. 

Chilchuck flicked your forehead in mock annoyance, huffing. “You have a good job, idiot. It’d be a shame to waste your talent at a small shop such as mine.”

“…” You slowly registered his words, giving him a bright grin. “You think I’m talented?”

“Uh, who wouldn’t?” His face slowly flushed a soft pink before he lightly shoved you. “Don’t let it get to your head!”

Laughing, you waved him off, finding his reactions to your teasing quite cute. It really brightened up your mood, you noted.

For the next couple of minutes, you both sat there, drinking your respective drinks while sharing different stories from the past month. To be honest, it was quite nice being able to catch up with Chilchuck, it had been a while since you had a group meet-up due to everyone’s conflicting schedules. You felt your heart ache at the idea of this hangout coming to a close. When will you see each other again? 

Unbeknownst to you, Chilchuck felt that same ache. Although he openly showed his irritation with the group, he couldn’t deny that you were all his close friends and meant something to him… Not like he’d tell any of his friends of this anyway, he still has a reputation to uphold, he tells himself. 

As much as Chilchuck would try to hide his fondness for you all, everyone knew that he cared, and that in itself was enough. 

“Are you gonna dance?” 

Chilchuck was broken out of his thoughts by your sudden question, eyes darting from you to the dance floor.

“..Maybe,” he shifted his gaze away from you, focusing on the drink in his hands. “It’s been a while.”

“Ahh come on,” you nudged his shoulder with your elbow. “Just one song!” 

He rolled his eyes, a small smile creeping into his face. “Fine, just one though.” 

With a cheer, you gently pulled him up from his seat, dragging him onto the crowded dance floor. However, as soon as you got there, the music shifted and the song seemed much more romantic compared to the previous ones.

“Oh, uhh…” You trailed off, unsure if Chilchuck was in the mood to dance anymore since the vibe had completely changed. “Do you still..?” 

“I said one song, didn’t I?” He huffed, offering a hand to you. “Come on, don’t want to keep me waiting do you?” 

You felt your cheeks heat up at his offer, was he really willing to dance with you? Hand in hand, feet in rhythm, and distance between you almost nonexistent? …Ah, fuck it. Never know when you’ll get this chance again.

With newfound confidence, you placed your hand in his, being swept off into the midst of the crowd. 

You both started off a little clumsy, your feet accidentally stepping on his as he teased you for your poor dancing skills. You’d roll your eyes in response, cheeks flushing in embarrassment before trying again. 

Surprisingly, Chilchuck made for a skilled dancer, following in tune with the song as he twirled you around. Every time you did so, you found yourself laughing in surprise, his smile widening at your giddy self. 

Maybe it was the cherry wine you had earlier but.. everything in that moment seemed different, as if you were seeing through rose-tinted glasses. The bar had felt empty, leaving only you and Chilchuck swaying in beat to the song. Your eyes were locked on his as he let himself relax, returning your gaze with a smile while leading you. This had seemed so natural for the both of you, that you almost hadn’t noticed the song coming to a close.

As the ending to the song came, Chilchuck suddenly dipped you, leaving you breathless as everything faded out, your focus honing in on him as a look of fondness overcame his expression. It was a look unlike any other, eyes filled with such intensity and a grin that made your heart flutter with anticipation. There was no denying that he harbored intimate feelings for you.

Just as soon as it happened, it ended, the two of you left slightly panting as people scattered for the next song. 

“Chilchuck.. I—“

“_____.”

Before you could speak, Chilchuck shushed you, hand intertwining with yours as he pulled you to a more private location. 

“I need to speak with you. Privately.”

Hearing him state the last part made your body flush with heat, the beating of your heart picking up its pace as you waited with bated breath for what was to come. He had led you towards the garden the bar had, the display of greenery very well showing the dedication and care the owners held for them. There was no one else there, just the two of you beneath the garden’s fairy lights and the stars.

You both took a seat on a small bench, Chilchuck’s hand slowly leaving yours, fiddling with his fingers. His brows were furrowed, gaze locked onto the ground with focus as he tried picking out what to say. 

“I’ll just get straight to the point… _____, I’ve liked you for a while now and—“ He paused, mouth moving to form words but nothing came out. “sigh It’s fine if you don’t reciprocate… In fact, forget I said anything! I-“ 

You quickly shut him up with a small peck on the cheek, his words rendering you speechless and leaving you with only your actions to speak for yourself. Chilchuck had stilled, his words pausing as he gaped up at you. His face slowly became a cherry red, the hue reaching the tips of his ears. You could almost see steam coming from him, you mused to yourself. 

“I like you too, Chilchuck.” Smiling, you cupped his face, feeling the heat radiating from his cheeks. 

Before you could register what happened next, he had already leaned towards you, lips placing a chaste kiss on your own before departing. If his face could get any redder, it would’ve. 

“You're such an idiot.” He huffed, his giddy expression betraying his words. You laughed before pinching his cheek. 

“You’re the one who likes me y’know.” 

“…Yeah.” Chilchuck’s words had trailed off, much too distracted by your lips, your eyes, everything. He couldn’t help himself, is what he thought as he leaned in for another kiss, this time, lasting much longer. 

There was a certain tenderness behind it, lips moving in sync and he pulled you closer. Something about you drew him in, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

Before you could continue any further, a phone rang out, startling the two of you. 

“Ah..everyone is getting ready to leave.” You hummed, scrolling through Marcille’s text message. “We should head back.”

The half-foot grumbled next to you, arms crossing as his brows twitched in irritation. “Seriously? Talk about bad timing.” 

“Don’t worry. You’ll have many opportunities in the future.” You grinned, standing up and stretching. 

“There better be…” He huffed, standing up as well. 

The two of you talked while slowly walking toward your booth, trying to delay the inevitable departure. However, it seemed you didn’t have to worry about leaving his side anytime soon. 

“Hey..do you wanna come over? Watch a movie or something?” Chilchuck asked, hands in his pant pockets. 

Your smile widened at the offer, feeling a warmth flood your body. “I’d love that.” 

“Hmm…” He looked towards the booth in thought before turning to you. “I never said it before but.. you taste a lot like cherry wine.” 

“..Is that a good thing?” 

“Definitely.”