#i harbor no ill will towards u

[franciskirkland-deleted]

I'm a deranged mess, and I need PAWB Finland content directly into my veins… it's what he deserves, it's what his ass was built for. And ur so right about him being the most vocal sobbing mess in bed, bestie ❤️❤️❤️ Imagine him trying to fight it back out of embarrassment, not trying to wake others in the house, but GOD how can he help it when his hubby viking pressing him against the bed, rearranging his insides, and it all just feels soooooo good. He can't help but let out the cutest desperate moans, screaming whatever freaky berwald wants to hear from him. berwald just loooves having his wife under his mercy like this

hello my beloved finland's ass anon <3 sorry i didnt answer sooner i've been resignated to the italian woman's burden of making pasta for my husband. im attic wife coded. also i've been trying to get my BP/heart rate in check all fucking day to no avail so im avoiding the hellsite. anywhooo. how are u doing bestie. did u get some rest? something to eat? i hope so. ur about to outbid me for the most insane feral unhinged hetalian pls know this. (i mean this positively btw)

this will always be ur safe space for naughty housewife finland <3 ur straight up snorting that sufin cocaine... popping that pervitin, if i may. i truly believe u could survive in a ditch in the forest for a week eating pine needles and raw birds. ur operating on a different plane of existence. i hope u dont mind that i'm compiling all of ur recent asks into one post bc i don't want to spam the dashboard/tags with the illustrious machinations of your beautiful mind. but at this point i am on my knees begging you to reveal to me your true identity bc you are psychotically horny (again, affectionate) and i envy your game. are you perchance on ADHD medicine. prescribed or otherwise. its ok u can tell me. im not a cop i used to smoke [redacted]

ok. with that being said i have... several thoughts that i would attempt to organize but 1. im so unhorny rn and 2. ur level of finland bussy devotion is lowkey beyond my level of cognitive energy - though never unappreciated. as always i enthusiastically agree with and endorse the above statements. pls message me off anon to discuss <3 pls

[fujii-draws]

Thinking abt a certain dusknoir-species HC where their stomachs aren’t just used to carry or yoink souls to the afterlife— but also placing their duskullings/kids inside their bellies for protection/comfort. (Kinda similar to how alligators put their kids in their maw/kangaroos put joey’s in their pouches.)

(And how hilarious it would be for The Dusknoir to deal with said paternal instincts and trying to silence them to no avail)

[boobpancakes]

ok but my mom had untreated bipolar disorder and was extremely abusive towards me and i would never take it out on another bipolar person ever it's not hard to realize everyone's experiences are unique

[jezebelblues]

in body and blood | h.s

pt. i, pt. ii

summary: over a century adrift in darkness, he found his sun—not in the dawn, but in the quiet fire of her love, a light fierce enough to bind even eternity.

cw: fem!reader, blood+blood drinking (bro is literally a vampire there's going to be blood) 1700s!harry, mentions of death

word count: approx 7.3k

I yall this excruciatingly long so i just figured it was better to split this into four parts. it starts off kinda slow i knowwww but i feel like it fits his character. anyway I hope u will like. mwah :* also YES his heart beats idk i took creative liberty in assuming the blood he drinks would give him some sort of circulation and YES i drew inspo from tvd i like their vamp lore the most ok bye

Fourth of November, 1701

The English flag thrashed wildly in the biting wind, its edges snapping above the clank of chains and the groan of wood as boats were fastened to the harbor. Hooves clattered against the cobblestone, mingling with the grumble of cart wheels as townsfolk hurried homeward, eager to escape the deepening chill of evening.

Winter crept in with an ill-fated air, a shadow over the town. The fishermen’s hauls dwindled to nearly nothing, their nets coming up bare. Squash and pumpkins, once abundant, softened and rotted on their vines before they could be harvested. Livestock, struck by a strange sickness, perished too soon, their spoiled meat no longer fit to eat. Lately the townsfolk scraped by on what little they could hunt—rabbits, mostly—a meager fare that barely stretched to sustain a family for more than a few days.

YN stood at the end of the dock, the sea’s bitter wind pulling at her hair. A basket woven by her mother dangled from her arm, half-covered by a cloth beneath which a few herbs and stunted vegetables peeked through. She waited for Niall, a fisherman she’d known since childhood, to come ashore. His face was grim, his knuckles pale as he secured his boat. “Any luck?” She asked over the wind, though she already knew the answer.

His mouth twisted into a scowl as he wiped his hands on his trousers and approached her. “Lucks got nothin’ to do with it. s’the new king, swear it. God turned his back on us ‘cause of him.”

She winced and swatted his arm lightly as they started toward the stone walls encircling the town. “Don’t say such things, not out loud.” She kept her voice low, though she too had her doubts about the new ruler. “Best not to tempt fate with those words.”

He rolled his eyes and took the basket from her arm, letting it hang from his own so she could tuck her hands into her sleeves. “You agree with such things. S’pose God does as well from the lack of bloody fish.”

They passed under the worn stone archway marking the entrance to town, their footsteps echoing against the ancient stones. Dover was nestled between the English Channel and rolling green hills, hemmed in by rocky shores and the stark rise of the cliffs, standing watch like grim sentinels over the troubled little town.

As YN and Niall made their way up the winding path from the square, the quiet crept in around them, settling like a thin mist. The evening was thick and gray, heavy clouds stretching over Dover and flattening the light into a cool, uneasy dusk.

Each face they passed, they recognized. it was impossible not to, in a town so small. There was old mrs. Harris, hunched beneath a weathered shawl, who gave them a knowing nod as they went by, as if she alone were privy to the day’s secrets. And mr. James, pulling his cart toward home, who offered a quick tip of his hat, but avoided meeting their eyes too long, as if a weight hung over all of them that no one cared to mention.

Niall, walking beside her, held his silence longer than usual, and there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes when he finally turned her way. “You’re still makin’ that stew, yeah?” He hummed, nodding toward the basket swinging lightly in his hand. His tone was casual, almost lazy, yet she sensed something else beneath it, like he was testing the waters of a conversation he couldn’t quite bring himself to start.

“Mum has already started it,” YN replied, keeping her voice as light as his. “Cabbage, onion, bit of thyme. barely a stew, more a broth.” She cast a sideways glance his way, catching the faintest hint of a smile pulling at his mouth.

“No doubt you’ll have your sister servin’ it, then?” He asked, as though it were an afterthought. “I hear she has a way of makin’ anything taste finer.”

YN’s lips twitched, a hint of humor flickering in her eyes. She knew well enough where this was going, but she didn’t indulge him outright. “Oh, she has her charms, but she’s picky ‘bout who gets to see ‘em.”

He laughed quietly, a low sound that seemed to carry on the breeze, soft and uncertain. “She's got the whole town near dreamin’ of her, from what I hear. never seen her eye stray toward anyone, though.”

YN glanced away, her gaze drifting over the clustered rooftops, the narrow chimneys stretching into the dimming sky like spindly fingers. “You’d need more than a bowl of stew to catch her fancy, Niall. You’d best hope for a rich merchant or a duke comin’ ashore.”

His chuckle died off, and for a few quiet moments, they simply walked, the soft scuff of their shoes blending with the distant murmur of the sea. Yet something hung between them, unspoken, like the faintest shadow shifting at the edges of their conversation.

It was Niall who broke the silence, his voice lower this time, his words careful. “Have you heard the talk? About the old watchtower?”

YN’s gaze drifted to the far side of town, where the dense stretch of forest gave way to a steep rise, the silhouette of the abandoned tower just barely visible through the trees. “Folk say all sorts of things,” She muttered, almost to herself. “Been empty as long as I can remember.”

Niall’s eyes narrowed as he looked out toward the darkening line of trees, his jaw set. “Empty, maybe, but someone’s taken to hauntin’ it now. The lads swear they’ve seen a figure up there at night, just a shadow movin’ about, like he’s watchin’ the town from that high window.”

She felt a faint chill that wasn’t from the cold, and she pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “They say a lot of things,” she repeated, her tone steady but soft. “Could be nothin’ but the wind playin’ with shadows.”

He tilted his head, the edge of a smirk softening his face. “Aye, that’s what I'd think, too. But seems each person’s got a different tale to tell. Some say he’s a protector, sent to keep us safe.” He shrugged, his gaze still fixed on the distant woods. “Others say it’s somethin’ darker—maybe one of the king’s men, sent to spy on anyone who dares breathe a word against him.”

YN’s lips parted, but she hesitated, the words hanging unspoken as her gaze lingered on the watchtower. Her grandmother had told her stories of that tower once, years ago, when she was still young enough to believe in the old tales without question. But she’d since brushed them off as the ramblings of an old woman long passed. Now, though, the stories flickered back to her, sharp and vivid as they’d once been.

“I heard some folk say it’s not a man at all,” She murmured, so quietly that her voice nearly vanished into the chill air. “Gran said it’s a spirit—a demon.” she let out a breathy laugh, sending a glance his way. “You believe my ol’gran true?”

Niall made a sound, halfway between a scoff and a chuckle, though he didn’t argue with her. “You don’t seem the sort to believe in demons,YN.”

She didn’t answer him, and for a moment, they stood in the gathering dusk, looking out toward the distant, looming shape of the tower, as if something there had caught them both in its thrall. A strange, unsettling weight hung in the air, pressing down around them, and neither seemed willing to break it.

The faint toll of the chapel bell echoed across the town, marking the evening hour. The sound seemed hollow, almost mournful, as it resonated through the narrow streets, slipping into every crack and crevice, lingering like a warning in the growing dark.

The path wound through the clustered homes of their town, each one narrow and stacked close beside the other, the rooftops tilting like old friends leaning together to brace against the coming winter. Flickers of candlelight peeked through small, thick-paned windows, casting brief glows over doorsteps worn smooth by years of footsteps. Voices drifted out faintly as neighbors settled in for the night, the low buzz of comfort after a long day’s labor.

As they neared her door, YN glanced sideways at Niall, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Well, no use lettin’ the stew go to waste with just me. You might as well come in and help make somethin’ decent out of it. And,” she added, with a playful glint, “my sister will be there, too. Might be the only chance you get to impress her.”

Niall feigned indifference, though she caught the hint of a flush in his cheeks beneath the dimming light. “Well, if it’s to spare you from that sorry excuse of a stew, I s’pose I could lend a hand,” he said with mock reluctance, yet his steps quickened as they approached the small wooden door.

Inside, the house was simple and small, with a low ceiling that sloped slightly, forcing even YN to duck beneath the beams as she led him in. A narrow hearth crackled with a weak but steady fire, casting warm shadows across the modest room, which served as both kitchen and living space. The scent of herbs, drying in bunches along the walls, mingled with the faint tang of smoke from the hearth. A single table stood in the center, its edges worn smooth, surrounded by a handful of mismatched stools and chairs, each one slightly wobbly but bearing the marks of care and countless meals.

“Is that you, YN?” Her mother’s voice came from the corner, where she was bent over a pot, stirring with steady, practiced hands. She looked up with a gentle smile, her face flushed from the warmth of the fire. “And Niall too! Just in time. I was about to send Arthur to fetch you, but he’s off fiddlin’ with somethin’ in the corner.”

Ten-year-old Arthur looked up at the mention of his name, a wide grin splitting his face when he spotted the blonde. “Niall!” He called, scrambling to his feet and darting over, a wooden sword in hand. “You’ll stay for supper, won’t you?”

He placed the basket next to the older woman before he tousled the boy’s hair, giving a wink to YN. “That depends—will your sister cook, or will your ma have mercy on me?”

YN rolled her eyes as her mother chuckled, stirring the stew with a knowing look. “I'll make sure to keep it fit for eatin’. Now, why don’t you both make yourselves useful and set the table?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Niall replied with a quick bow, flashing his best charming smile, though his eyes lingered on the slender figure by the fire.

YN’s older sister, Ella, sat with her needlework in hand, her fingers nimble as she embroidered a delicate pattern into the edge of a linen cloth. She looked up as Niall approached, offering him a nod and a faint, polite smile, though a flicker of amusement danced in her eyes.

“Ella,” Niall greeted, taking the opportunity to lean a bit too casually against the edge of the table. “Now there’s a sight finer than any supper, if I may say.”

“Oh, you may say.” Ella sighed, her tone as mild as her smile. “But sayin’ doesn’t make it so, does it?” Her eyes sparkled with a touch of mischief, and she kept her gaze on her stitching as if he hadn’t said a word.

YN snorted, reaching past Niall to set the bowls on the table. “She’ll need more than empty flattery to be wooed, Niall. You’ll be talkin’ all night before she so much as bats an eye.”

“Empty flattery?” he echoed, feigning shock as he helped with the cups, placing them with exaggerated care. “This is pure honesty, YN. Your sister’s a vision, though I'm not sure she sees it herself.”

Ella finally looked up, one eyebrow arched. “Perhaps that’s ‘cause it’s hard to see with all the bluster in here. Is it flattery or just another of your tales, Ni?”

Arthur laughed as he climbed onto his chair, his wooden sword clattering to the floor. “Tell a tale, Niall!” He urged, his eyes bright.

He obliged with a grand sweep of his arm. “Ah, tales are easy to tell when the company’s fine.” His gaze drifted meaningfully to Ella, who only smirked, clearly unbothered.

“Enough of your foolishness, Horan.” YN’s mother cut in, though her tone was warm as she dished the stew into the bowls. “There'll be time for tales when your stomach’s full. Now, all of you—sit, before this stew turns cold.”

They settled around the table, the simple meal set before them steaming in the flickering firelight. YN ladled out servings, keeping her own expression solemn as she dished out the rather grayish stew. Niall took a tentative sip, raising his brows in mock surprise.

“Well, I'll be,” he declared, setting his bowl down as if astonished. “Tastes just like stew!”

YN kicked him under the table, rolling her eyes. “Don’t sound so shocked, else we’ll make you eat the scraps.”

Ella, watching them from across the table, hid a smile behind her hand. “It's better than you deserve,” she teased, offering Niall a faintly teasing look that sent Arthur into a fit of giggles.

As they settled into their meal, the conversation turned to the familiar rhythms of the day—the fish hauls, the scarcities at the market, the latest mischief Arthur had managed, and the townsfolk they’d seen along the way. Laughter bubbled up around the table, filling the small room with warmth as the stew slowly disappeared, their bowls clinking softly with each spoonful.

It wasn't until they’d nearly finished eating that YN’s mother’s voice turned low, a faint shadow crossing her face as she glanced at arthur. “Arthur,” she said gently, “I don't want to hear any more of you playin’ outside the town walls.”

The boy frowned, his spoon paused halfway to his mouth. “But ma, I’m careful,” he protested, glancing between her and YN as if hoping for support.

“She's right,” Ella added, her voice calm but firm. “The woods aren’t safe, especially with winter comin’ on.”

He looked to Niall, his face a mask of confusion and a bit of defiance. “Niall plays near the woods, don’t you?”

He shifted in his seat, his smile fading just slightly as he glanced at YN. “Aye, lad, but it’s different. I'm older, and I keep my wits about me. Besides,” he added lightly, though his voice held a trace of something darker, “there’s been talk of someone wanderin’ near the old watchtower.”

YN’s mother sighed, folding her hands on the table. “Too much talk.” She said quietly, her gaze drifting toward the narrow window. “I don’t care if s’only lore, you’ll be safe rather than sorry.”

A hush fell over the table, and Arthur's wide eyes darted from face to face. “Who is it, then?” He whispered, his voice trembling slightly. “A man?”

Ella reached over to ruffle his hair, her voice soft. “No one knows. could be a man, could be no more than shadows. But some say it’s best not to linger too close to it, just in case.”

Niall, watching Arthur's reaction, leaned in with a grin. “There now, it’s probably nothin’ more than a lonely ol’ fox. But best stick close to home, eh? Can’t have you disappearin’ on us.”

YN tried to keep her voice light as she chimed in, though she felt the faintest prickling unease beneath the laughter. “You heard him, Arthur. best keep to the town, else you might end up a story yourself.”

The boy’s eyes grew even wider, and he gulped, glancing nervously toward the window as if expecting to see the mysterious figure standing just beyond. He fidgeted, his hand reaching instinctively for his wooden sword on the floor beside him.

With a faint, tired sigh, YN’s mother rose and began clearing the table, signaling the end of the meal. The warm glow of the evening seemed to have dimmed, and even Niall’s usual cheer was muted as he helped gather the bowls, his gaze drifting back to the light flickering along the walls.

Outside, the wind picked up, brushing against the windows and rattling the latch ever so slightly, a whisper against the warmth of the firelight. The small house was silent for a long moment, each of them lost in thought, each glancing occasionally toward the dark window where the night gathered, close and watchful.

Morning seeped slowly into Dover, pale and cool, bringing with it the damp scent of the sea and the faint call of gulls overhead. YN was awake early, as was her habit, slipping quietly out of bed while the house still lingered in the soft dimness of dawn. The fire in the hearth had died to embers, and a chill clung to the air, but she moved quickly, tucking a shawl around her shoulders as she crossed the small room.

Arthur, already up and dressed, was tugging at the latch on the back door, eager to start his morning chores. He looked back when he heard her steps, his face lighting up with a grin. “Thought you’d sleep through it, lazybones.” He teased, though his eyes sparkled with mischief.

She snorted softly, pinching his cheek as she passed him. “Cheeky lad,” she muttered. “Come on, then. Let's get to it.”

They stepped out into the brisk morning, their breath puffing in the cold, and began making their way down the narrow stone path that wound through the small patch of yard behind their home. Frost clung to the grass, glinting in the pale light, and the chickens shuffled restlessly in their pen as Arthur went to check on them.

“Careful now.” 

He bent down next to them to scatter their feed. The hens fluffed their feathers, clucking contentedly as they pecked at the ground, and Arthur kept one eye on the rooster, who strutted about with his chest puffed, keeping watch over his domain.

“Look at him,” he whispered, stifling a laugh as he threw a handful of seed. “Thinks he’s king of all creation, that one.”

She grinned, crouching beside him. “Well, he’s a rooster. not much else to do but look important, is there?”

The boy giggled, tossing a bit of feed toward the rooster, who eyed him warily before puffing up even further. YN kept watch as he finished the feeding, carefully securing the pen’s latch when he was done.

They moved on to check the small patch of herbs and vegetables that clung to life in the early cold, though the frost had already done its damage. The leaves hung limp and dark, and YN  frowned, brushing a thin layer of frost from a withered cabbage leaf.

“S’not lookin’ good, is it?” Arthur said, his voice dropping to a murmur as he followed her gaze.

“No,” she replied softly, her fingers brushing over the leaves. “But we’ll manage. Always do.”

He gave her a solemn nod, but she could see the worry in his eyes, the way he seemed to glance toward the woods, as if he might glimpse the shadowed figure their mother had warned him about the night before. She reached over and squeezed his shoulder, offering a smile.

“No need for lookin’ so glum, Arthur,” she said, keeping her tone light. “We've plenty to keep us busy, and I'll wager you’ll see that rooster crowned king before anything happens to us.”

He managed a faint smile, his spirits lifting just enough to reassure her. They finished up quickly, making their way back inside, where the warmth of the house greeted them. YN set about preparing a quick meal for Arthur and her mother, who was just beginning to stir, her tired eyes softening at the sight of her children.

Once breakfast was sorted, YN returned to her small room to ready herself for the day. She tugged off her worn nightdress, slipping into the fresh linen undergarments she’d set aside, and carefully pulled on a plain woolen dress that hung neatly from a peg beside her bed. It was a simple dress, but a neat one, its modest collar and long sleeves making it suitable for the chilly weather. she straightened the fabric, adjusting the waist so that it lay just right, and wrapped her shawl back over her shoulders, pinning it at the front with an old, weathered brooch that had once belonged to her grandmother.

She caught her reflection in the small, scratched mirror by the window—a young woman with steady eyes and a hint of determination in her gaze, her hair braided behind her, a few strands slipping free to frame her face. After a moment, she tucked a few stray wisps behind her ear and gave herself a brisk nod, turning to head out.

The streets were beginning to stir as she made her way down to the docks, the early morning light casting a soft, muted glow over the cobblestone. A few shopkeepers were already sweeping their doorsteps, preparing for the day’s trade, and a handful of townsfolk passed by, nodding their greetings as she walked.

When she reached the docks, she found Niall already there, standing by his boat, his hands working quickly to secure the ropes. His coat hung loose over his shoulders, and his hair was tousled from the morning breeze, but there was a contented look in his eyes as he glanced up and saw her approach.

“Well, if it isn’t the queen of the cabbage patch,” he greeted her, a grin breaking across his face. “Come to see if I've hauled in a king’s feast for ye?”

YN rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she stopped a few feet away from him. “I wouldn't go that far. but I'll settle for a decent fish, if you’ve managed one.”

He laughed, giving the rope a final tug before stepping back, wiping his hands on his trousers. “Oh, a decent fish, she says. Well, lucky for you, I've got just that.” He reached into a small wooden crate and held up a plump haddock, its scales glinting in the early light. “Not a king’s ransom, but it’ll do for stew, won’t it?”

She eyed the fish, unable to suppress a smile. “Aye, it’ll do. Might even save us from havin’ to wrangle another cabbage.”

Niall chuckled, tucking the fish back into the crate. “Couldn’t have that, now, could we? I’m doin’ my part to keep your cookin’ passable.”

“Passable?” She laughed, nudging him lightly as she stepped up beside him to peer into the crate. “You’re just glad to have an excuse to come round, steal our bread, and charm my sister.”

He gave her a mock-offended look, though his eyes glinted with humor. “Now, that’s hurtful, YN. I'm here for the food and the fine company, naturally. If your sister happens to be nearby, well, that’s not my fault, is it?”

She rolled her eyes, unable to help the small laugh that escaped. “Poor Ella’ll need more than a fish to be impressed. Best not get your hopes up too high.”

“Aye, she’s a hard one to please,” he admitted, a faint, wistful smile crossing his face. “But I'll manage somehow. or at least, I'll keep tryin’.”

They both fell silent, their gazes drifting out over the water, where a thin mist clung to the surface, casting an eerie calm over the harbor. The other boats rocked gently in the quiet, and the gulls called out above them, their cries echoing faintly across the empty stretch of sea. Together they turned back toward the town, the mist curling softly around them as they walked, side by side, in the quiet of the morning.

The midday lull brought a hush over the town, as folk took their brief respite between the day’s labors. The soft light of afternoon slipped over the rooftops, and YN found herself winding her way down one of the quieter streets toward Maura’s, a modest little cottage that doubled as the gathering place for the women in town. Here, around a crowded table of mismatched cups and chipped saucers, town gossip simmered as steadily as the tea.

Maura's door was open, the sound of voices spilling out into the cobbled lane, and YN slipped in quietly, greeting the women with a polite nod before finding a seat near the end of the table. The familiar faces of neighbors turned to greet her—Maura herself, with her cheeks flushed from the warmth of the kitchen, mrs. Harris with her ever-watchful eyes, and a handful of others who paused only long enough to give YN a quick nod before returning to the subject that had clearly held their interest long before she arrived.

“I'm tellin’ you,” mrs. Harris was saying, her voice low and edged with certainty. “There's somethin’ in that tower. maybe it’s a spy, maybe it’s worse.”

Maura scoffed, shaking her head. “If it were a spy, we’d know by now, wouldn’t we? why bother lurkin’ about if there’s nothin’ worth seein’ here?”

“There’s plenty to see, Maura,” the older woman sighed, leaning forward, her teacup nearly sloshing over the rim as she gestured toward the window. “Who’s to say he hasn’t been watchin’ us all along, takin’ note of who’s loyal to the new king and who’s not?”

Maura snorted, but one of the other women, Anna, leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. “or worse—what if it’s no man at all?” Her gaze darted to the others, her eyes wide with a kind of fearful excitement. “There are tales, you know. Of things that wander the woods. Spirits that linger in dark places, things that only come out when the days grow short.”

Mrs. Harris crossed herself, nodding solemnly. “Aye. folk say it’s a night creature—a demon, even.“

YN listened quietly, her fingers tracing the rim of her teacup, but she held back a smile. as the women exchanged anxious looks, she leaned back, sipping her tea, the warmth of it calming her nerves. To her, the stories felt like little more than old wives’ tales—a way for folk to pass the time when the days grew cold and bleak. A lonely man, perhaps, who’d taken to the tower for solitude, a soul with nowhere else to go. Nothing so sinister as the women here believed.

“You've a skeptical look about you, dear” Maura said, catching her eye with a wry smile. “Don’t tell me you’d walk up to that tower yourself, would you?”

She met her gaze calmly, setting her cup down. “I'd sooner believe it’s a wanderer, Maura. Maybe one who wants peace more than anything else. Don’t see why we should fear him.”

“Peace, or no peace, he’s still up there, watchin’ us all.”

YN didn’t reply, only nodded politely as the conversation swirled on, the voices around her swelling in speculation and rumor. After a while, she quietly rose, setting her cup aside and offering Maura a grateful nod before slipping out the door and into the fresh air.

The chatter of the women faded behind her, and she took a deep breath, the cool air filling her lungs and clearing her thoughts. She knew she was unlikely to shake their unease or convince them of her view, but as she thought of the lonely figure up in the tower, something tugged at her—a kind of curiosity that gnawed gently at the back of her mind.

Without a second thought, she made her way home, moving quickly and quietly, her mind already set. She slipped through the door, pausing only to grab her small woven basket from its hook. Her mother glanced up, but YN offered her a calm smile, murmuring something vague about a quick errand before supper.

IN the small corner of their kitchen where they kept their stores, she selected a handful of berries from the last of their foraging, a few slightly bruised carrots, and a small bunch of herbs tied with a thin scrap of cloth. Modest offerings, but enough, she hoped, to serve as a token of peace, a sign that she meant no harm.

She took a deep breath and headed toward the edge of town, her footsteps light as she made her way past the familiar lanes and toward the narrow path that led up to the old watchtower.

The path leading to the watchtower was narrow, winding its way up the hillside in gentle, uneven curves. YN had walked these woods many times before, though never with the purpose she had now. Above her, the sky was beginning to darken, clouds gathering in ominous clumps, casting long shadows across the land as the sun slipped lower.

Her heart thudded in her chest, not from fear, but from a strange mixture of curiosity and anticipation. The stories she’d heard that morning lingered in her mind like faint echoes, each warning a small reminder of the mystery ahead. But she felt something else too—a quiet resolve, an odd certainty that she had to see this figure, whoever he might be, with her own eyes.

The watchtower loomed before her, its crumbling stone walls climbing into the sky, weather-worn and scarred by time. She could see now why the townsfolk feared it; it looked like a relic from another era, half-hidden by the dense growth of ivy and the creeping fog that clung to the base of its walls. It was silent here, too silent, as if even the birds dared not sing in the shadow of the old tower.

Steeling herself, she moved forward, her footsteps muffled by the damp earth. The closer she got, the more the watchtower’s age showed itself in cracked stones and vines, a darkness that seemed to pool between the stones, deepening the gray of the twilight. At the base of the tower, a narrow door sat slightly ajar, barely wide enough for her to slip through. She paused there, glancing up, feeling an odd twinge of nervousness as her gaze drifted to the upper windows, dark and empty.

Drawing a deep breath, she pushed the door open, stepping into the dim interior.

The inside of the tower was colder, the air thick and still. Faint light seeped through cracks in the walls, just enough to reveal the sparse furnishings—a wooden table, books, a chair beside the hearth, long since gone cold. Dust motes hung in the air, catching the dim light like fragments of stars, and a faint, earthy smell lingered in the space, as though the room hadn’t seen another soul in years.

Yet something else lingered too, something that made the hair on the back of her neck prickle—a sense that she wasn’t alone.

A figure stepped forward from behind a wall, emerging so quietly she almost missed it. He was tall, with dark curls that tumbled around his face, shadows clinging to his features as though he belonged to the darkness itself. His eyes met hers, a piercing green that seemed to hold an entire century’s worth of secrets, and for a brief, unsettling moment, she felt as though he could see straight through her.

“What brings you here?” His voice was low, quiet, each word clipped and precise, yet holding a softness that surprised her.

YN swallowed, her hand instinctively tightening around the basket she held. “I–I thought you might be hungry,” she stammered, offering the basket forward with a hesitant smile. “Folk talk of you up here, you know. Thought it might be nice to see if you wanted some company.”

He raised a brow, a faint trace of amusement softening his gaze. He didn’t reach for the basket, but instead continued to watch her, as though trying to make sense of why she would come here, alone, to his solitary refuge.

Didn’t seem exactly the safest thing.

“People rarely visit me,” he said finally, his voice barely more than a murmur, as though he were speaking more to himself than to her. “Especially not with offerings.”

“Well, it’s no great feast,” she laughed breathily—nervous, setting the basket down on the table. “But it’s enough for a quiet meal.”

He looked down at the basket, his expression unreadable. The shadows seemed to deepen around him, and for a brief moment, she wondered if he would turn her away. But then his gaze shifted back to her, gentle, as though something in her gesture had reached him in a way she couldn’t quite understand.

“I don’t need much,” he breathed, finally stepping closer, his movements careful, almost tentative. “But thank you.”

The silence stretched between them as Harry’s eyes lingered on her, his regard tracing every movement of her face, the subtle rise and fall of her shoulders, the way her lips pressed together as if searching for words. He could feel it—her pulse thrumming in her neck, the warmth radiating from her skin, the soft, steady rhythm of blood rushing through her veins. It was maddening. The sound alone clawed at the quiet corners of his mind, stirring that old, cursed hunger he’d worked so hard to bury.

But he couldn’t let her see that. Couldn’t let even a flicker of it touch his face.

With a composed nod, he turned his attention to the basket, using the small action to steady himself, to pull his focus away from her and fix it on the modest offering she’d brought. Herbs and roots, earthy and clean, none of it touched by blood. He forced his breath to steady, aware of her watchful eyes on him as he sorted through the items, careful to keep his hands stable.

“Are you here… often?” She asked softly, breaking the silence in a voice that felt almost hesitant, as though unsure whether it was allowed. Her gaze darted around the room, taking in the sparse surroundings, the thick shadows that crept into every corner.

Harry let his fingers linger on a sprig of thyme, keeping his voice level as he answered. “Yes,” he confided simply, his tone giving nothing away. “I find it… peaceful.”

“Peaceful,” she echoed, a faint smile touching her lips as she looked back at him. “It doesn’t frighten you, being all alone up here?”

He allowed himself the smallest of smiles—him—frightened? How sweetly ironic. “Sometimes solitude is easier than the alternative.”

She studied him, and he could feel the weight of her eyes, searching for something beneath his answer. Her heartbeat quickened just a bit, a small, steady thump that seemed to reach straight through him, its warmth coiling like a spark inside his chest. He could almost taste it—the sweet, heady pull of her pulse.

But he forced the thought down, burying it beneath years of restraint. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, redirecting the focus onto her. “And what about you?” he asked, his tone soft but steady. “Doesn’t it frighten you to come all this way, alone?”

She gave a small laugh, shrugging one shoulder. “Maybe it should. But I suppose I don’t scare easily.” She paused, her gaze slipping to the narrow window where the trees outside swayed gently in the wind. “It’s quiet here, almost like a different world. Sometimes it feels like our town is shrinking, like it’s closing in. Out here, it’s–it’s freer.”

Harry’s gaze softened, though he said nothing. There was something in her words he understood, something that echoed faintly in his own memories of why he’d chosen this place—this forgotten, lonely tower—to escape. A life he could no longer live, a curse he couldn’t risk unleashing.

She looked back at him, curiosity bright in her eyes. “People say you’ve been here a long time—I mean, they say the tower’s been abandoned forever. But you don’t seem…” She trailed off, biting her lip as though she didn’t quite know how to finish.

“Don’t seem what?” he asked, his voice low, inviting her to continue.

She waited, and he watched her carotid flicker in her throat as she searched for her words. “You don’t seem like someone who belongs in a place like this,” she murmured. “Like you’ve got more in you than—than just seclusion.”

He felt a tug deep in his chest at her words, something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time—a faint longing, a half-forgotten ache for a life he’d once dreamed of. But that life was gone. He’d buried it the night he’d been turned, when the world as he knew it had collapsed into a semblance of hell.

“It’s strange,” he replied carefully, his eyes drifting toward the flickering shadows on the wall. The hunger gnawed at him, unrelenting, every second reminding him of how close he was to her. She was standing barely a foot away, her warmth filling the small space, her heartbeat a steady, maddening drumbeat that drew him closer, closer…

He straightened slightly, pulling himself back. “Solitude,” he said quietly, almost as if reminding himself, “sometimes feels simpler.”

She nodded slowly, but her eyes stayed on him, and he could see the spark of curiosity still there, unquenched. She was brave, this girl. Far braver than most. And something about that bravery—the quiet way she stood her ground in the face of shadows and rumors, in the presence of a stranger—intrigued him. She wasn’t running away. And a part of him, despite everything, wanted her to stay.

“Thank you,” he mumbled—almost a dismissal, gesturing to the basket, his voice softened with a touch of genuine gratitude. “Not many would bring gifts to a stranger. Especially not one so isolated.”

She smiled, her cheeks flushing faintly in the dim light. “Well, maybe I’ll bring something better next time,” she replied with a small laugh. “If you’d want that.”

He paused, her words lingering in the air between them. Next time. It felt dangerous, allowing the thought of it, letting her return. But as she looked at him, her smile warm and unguarded, he found himself nodding almost without thinking.

“Yes,” he murmured. “I’d like that.”

But even as he spoke, he felt the old thirst stir beneath his words, a dark reminder that she was flesh and blood, and he was anything but.

Harry watched her retreating figure until the last of her shadow disappeared down the winding path. The silence settled thick around him once more, yet it felt different now, charged with the lingering warmth of her presence. The faint echo of her heartbeat still pulsed in his mind, like a phantom drum that refused to fade. He drew in a slow, deliberate breath, pushing down the hunger that had clawed so violently to the surface, fighting a void that had nearly overpowered him the entire time she’d stood there.

He had always been a weak man for the living.

Turning back into the tower, he closed the door and leaned against it, his hand flexing as he grappled with that old, familiar agony, the ache that thrummed through his veins whenever he was near a human. After all these years, after countless nights spent mastering his restraint, he still struggled. The curse was unrelenting—an obstinate thirst that he could never truly silence, only suppress.

Memories rose in him unbidden, dark and sharp, clawing their way out of the places he kept them buried. He could still recall the crisp air of that autumn night in 1601, back when he was alive, when he’d believed his life was bound for something beautiful. He’d been a poet then, a young man enamored with language, eager to make something of himself. He’d had dreams of attending university, of pursuing a life dedicated to literature and ideas, a life where he could spend his days wrapped in thought and art.

But all of that had been shattered in a single night. He had been walking back from a small tavern in London, tipsy and laughing, still reciting lines of poetry in his head, the night air filling him with a light, exhilarating hope. He remembered it so clearly—the dimly lit street, the damp chill creeping into his coat, the rough hand that had seized him by the throat and dragged him into an alley. He’d thought it was a robber at first, maybe a cutthroat from the docks looking for a quick coin.

But then he’d seen his attacker’s face.

The man’s eyes were inhuman, glinting with a feral hunger, and his skin was pale, almost translucent in the moonlight. Harry had fought, struggling against the impossible strength of those arms, but it had been useless. The man had pinned him down with a brutal ease, baring his teeth—a flash of something razor-sharp, malevolent—before sinking them deep into Harry’s throat. The pain had been excruciating, and then everything had gone dark, his life draining away into a cold, endless void.

He hadn’t known what had happened to him for days afterward. He’d awoken alone, hidden in the dark recesses of a forgotten basement, his body shuddering with an unholy thirst that tore through him like wildfire. The transformation had left him a half-mad, hollow shell, consumed by an insatiable need he didn’t understand. He’d stumbled through the streets, eyes wild, hunting without even knowing what he was hunting for. And when he’d finally cornered a man in the dead of night, tearing into his throat with a frenzy he could barely comprehend, he’d learned what he had become.

The first months were a blur of blood and horror, a nightmare he hadn’t known how to escape. He had been controlled by an ache, a greed—enslaved by it, a wretched creature lost to bloodlust. He’d fought it as best he could, but each time he tried to resist, the thirst only grew stronger, until he was reduced to a brutal, savage need that erased everything else.

It had been a year later, in 1602, when he encountered another vampire. His name was Thomas, a wily, unrepentant creature who fed freely and without remorse. Thomas had found Harry alone and ravenous, nearly mad from weeks of starvation in an attempt to restrain himself. He’d taken Harry under his wing, teaching him how to survive in this new, cursed life, how to hunt, how to kill cleanly. But while Harry had been grateful for the guidance, he quickly saw that Thomas reveled in the whispers of the devil, that he viewed humanity as little more than prey. He was malignant. 

His own heart was too soft for such cruelty. He’d hated the feel of human flesh beneath his hands, the way his victims’ eyes widened in terror as he held them down, the way their life drained away in his grasp. He hadn’t wanted this life. But the need was too powerful, too all-consuming, and he had been too weak to fight it.

And then, in 1643, came the night that shattered him completely.

Her name had been Beatrice—a young woman from Manchester, one of the few souls who’d looked past his oddity, his quiet reserve, and seen something in him worth knowing. She’d been kind, curious, always showing up at his door with a warm smile, her laughter lighting up his otherwise bleak existence. For months, she’d been a balm to him, her presence a brief reprieve from the loneliness that gnawed at him. He’d been so careful around her, so painfully restrained, never allowing himself to get too close. But one night, after days of starvation, he had faltered. She’d come to visit him, concern etched on her face, her hand reaching out to touch his cheek.

And in that moment, he’d lost himself.

The memory of that night was burned into him like a scar, the scent of her blood, the warmth of it cascading from his lips and developing him whole— the sound of her heart slowing as he drank from her—all of it haunted him, even now, decades later. He had tried to pull away, tried to stop himself, but the hunger had overpowered him, consuming her life, taking everything she had. When he finally came to his senses, she lay cold and pale in his arms, her eyes staring up at him, empty and accusing.

After that, he’d fled, haunted by the horror of what he’d done, determined never to let it happen again. He’d hidden himself away in this tower, learning to feed from the animals that roamed the forest, forcing himself to endure the hunger rather than inflict his curse on another innocent soul. He would never again allow himself to feel that agony, that terrible loss.

And yet tonight, with her presence in his small, empty world, something had stirred in him, a strange, aching reminder of what it meant to be human, to crave connection, companionship. It was dangerous, foolish to even entertain such thoughts, yet he couldn’t deny the faint spark she had left behind.

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe slowly, steadying the wild, restless energy that surged in him. She couldn’t come back. He couldn’t risk it. He would have to find a way to make her think the tower was haunted, or evil—something to scare her off for good. Because he knew himself, knew that he was a creature of hunger, bound to a curse he couldn’t escape.

And if she returned—he wasn’t sure how long he could resist.

[thatdeadaquarius]

Topic: Genshin impact.

au: Sagau.

idea: So what if you had the powers of every character you played as in every game you played and then get isekaid into genshin impact with imposter au. I imagine it goes smth like

Zhongli: “I will have order!”

reader, Who played Roblox as someone who lagged the game (explanation: I’m pretty sure ping is also how time works in games. If you can control the flow of ping you can control the flow of time in games.): “ZA WARUDO!”

Heyyy!! Thanks for waiting for the reply/response from my slow ass :0

So they did clarify what they meant/expand so imma just copy paste that here!

“k now I remember. So basically imma write it here since it’s easier: Basically you don’t have to (but you can) transform into the character that has those set of powers but if you do those powers are enhanced.”

Sun: Reader (”you”/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, Light Imposter AU (as in, NOT Yandere/Dark), mild crossover elements bc Shapeshifter Shenanigans™️

Stars: bro idek

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, genshin typical mild violence, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

so fair warning,, ive never seen jojo bizarre, but i appreciate i come off well-read/watched? LMAO

so im just gonna kinda,, guess? like just cycle thru diff. random media, and im hoping both me and you reading this will have a fun time (as this is a little challenge, but i like it so ill give it a shot, dont kno if its a good one but- 😅)

so to set the scene, of how u got to this point, ykno of running like ur life (maybe?) depends on u running around different teyvat countries,

u thought it was weird everyone knew a little too much about you?? (ofc theyve heard u during gaming, they know u the same way we all know Markiplier, get it?)

then a bunch of NPCs/Vision users/Archons?? were REALLY invested in talking to you, which freaked u out even more

and by the time you saw Zhongli, yknow, just the oldest god in game, making a fast-walk towards you, ykno the retired god who didnt move an inch when an old water god attacked Liyue for a test, is now hurrying to you???

ur logically get so fucking scared sm shits abt to go down, u just start running

it isnt until ur reaching for a ledge and some webbing shoots out of ur arm (from a glitchy little spot on ur arm, where it could be coming out of ur skin, but sometimes its a blue and red bracelet)

it latched onto the nearest building, and thats how u find out u can grapple ur way, literally Spiderman style, out of the harbor

and bro, idk if it would be fun, or confusing and stressful, or maybe both?? to just find out u can use any video game power from any game youve played before as you go running from countries bc for some freaky reason they know too much abt you/are pursuing you-

dUDE- they had small statues of you in like every little section of their cities

u head to Mondstadt and as Venti comes screaming and flying at you (in excitement, but ur freaked), u go to hold a hand up and suddenly ur holding a heavy stone tablet that unleashes some holographic yellow chains that freeze him in place-?? why is this familiar-

oh my god u have the sheikah slate from Breath of the Wild,

and as ur booking it out of there, u manage to get ahold of a sword, and u know exactly how to use it to knock back favonius knights trying to stop you (they are concerned for their god who is just unleashing random powers on ppl, pls let Grandmaster Jean just talk to you Your Majesty-!!)

by the time you teleport ur way to Inazuma, (bc u still have this worlds access to ur player/traveler’s powers), ur trying to find a nice place to stay for a little bit

at least in that sweet spot of the Raiden not noticing/finding you, while things cool down on the main continent, before moving on,

and u get some tools to help fashion just a little shelter, bc u dont have any money/mora rn, and ur able to literally build a house???

a mailbox pops up and thanks you for renting with Tom Nook???? As in Animal Crossing-

and rlly if the BOTW/slate thing didnt clue u into video game powers, then this definitely would tbh lmao

right as u see Yae Miko circling ur house, with an armful of books? ..is she planning to thru them at you??, u get the hell out of dodge before her favorite god can follow along

(she knows ur prefrences in books and got authors/trends to start so youd have plenty to read, and she was making sure it was ur house before politely dropping them off! how was she to know thatd spook their favorite God, Ei?!)

u get to Sumeru and think ur safe, hiding in an abandoned forest watcher outpost (1 person treehouse rlly) when Nahida shows up in ur dreams,

and u just,

walk out of the dream, into reality, and possess a nearby ruin guard so u can sleep in peace, bc she cant access a robot,

that one baffled u as you re-possessed ur own body before realizing-

Five Nights at Freddy’s. 💀

U cant do that forever, so u try Fontaine, hoping Neuvillette/Furina wont rlly give af abt you, plus theyre the latest region, so maybe they have the least exposure to whatever the other archons didnt like abt you??

u get there and are immediately summoned to court, and right as the mekas show up to escort you, jfc they have a mecha army

(meanwhile, theyre thinking, yknow. high profile guest/our god of gods. ofc we need state of the art mekas to escort them, its only polite-)

meanwhile ur cape has now become wings, and a mask covers ur face as you glide and fly ur way over the city in an attempt to get to where u assume Snezhnaya is

it doesnt occur to you the game until ur running out of stamnia and catch ur reflection in the waters of fontaine, Sky: Children of the Light

u hope the Tsaritsa’s dislike for other gods/Celestia doesnt extend to ur otherworldly presence so ur just hoping for the best atp tbh

tbh youd forget what all powers you have, and the absolute chaos ur causing urself as u try to desperately rememeber what games youve played thru ur entire life is NOT helping to reduce confusion when u randomly wake up with elf ears (legend of zelda/botw) or get dragged into another ruin machine when u fall asleep/faint/do smth u guess mimics death lmao- (fnaf) 💀

…

(meanwhile the Tsaritsa does get wind ur coming this way, and just, makes the people have a parade/festival to celebrate you coming,

she did also have to get Pierro/Captaino to physically restrain some of them from going ahead to meet/escort you to the palace, she’d heard how the others scared u off, and was, ironically, hoping the warm welcome would clear things up)

☆

well that was, something. 😃🫠

sorry lil car, that was such a fun idea idk if i did it justice!! i thought itd be too op to include every media youve consumed ever, so i kept it to video games, (which, could u cheat the system if youve played smash bros??)

i hope it was at least a decent read, and sorry im half asleep so i was not v funny this time around, but, again, hope u got smth out of it 😭

</3

on another note, im having my wisdom teeth surgery this friday, send whatever u got my way, prayers, blessings, good vibes, ill take anything im nervous 🙃

have a good week guys!

Safe Travels Lil Car,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko / @silvers-tongue

If ur tag doesnt work, pls check ur settings to see if ur a "searchable blog"!! Its not the same as the Ai selling data thing.

[scarletwinterxx]

i don't think i could love you more - joshua hong imagine

istg joshua owns this song, he's honestly all i can think about when i hear it🥺🥺 i used to think i met him too late but this is joshua, he'll probably say there's no such thing as late. I met him just right when I needed him the most🤍

anywaysss I hope you like it!

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is it?"

"Uh like a 9" Jeonghan answers, leading you where the rest of the boys were. A few of them got together and had drinks. One drink turned into two then three until they all lost count of how many bottles were opened as the night progressed.

Atleast one of them was smart enough not to get too hammered, that person being Jeonghan. Thus he was left with the task to get the boys home safely.

"How did you not get as drunk as them?" you ask when you saw your friends on varying states of unconsciousness. Soonyoung is already passed out on one side of the couch, Seungkwan and Dino having a sing off using a spoon while Seungcheol is also singing with eyes closed while hugging an equally drunk Joshua who also looks like he's two blinks from collapsing.

"Well someone has to make out alive here" he gestures to the rest of your friends all passed out and drunk

"Take your pick of the litter" Jeonghan jokes, picking a few bottles from the floor to tidy up a bit. He'll probably make the others clean it tomorrow, for now he needs to fix the safety hazards.

You walk towards where Joshua sat, tapping him on the shoulder making the guy look up at you. A look of surprise flashing across his face,

"Oh wait what?! What are you doing here? Cheol look I told my girlfriend was coming!" he hits Seungcheol repeatedly to get his attention.

The rest of the boys are already to out of it to understand or remember Joshua's word but the only sober one is now laughing behind you.

You look over at Jeonghan who is already looking at you with a sly smile, "Don't worry, your not so secret is safe with me. The rest of them is too drunk to remember what's happening"

"Dumbass that's not your girlfriend, that's Y/N!" Seungcheol retorts

"She is my girlfriend! Right, love? I'm your boyfriend right? Tell him" Joshua pushes Seungcheol off him to reach for you, grabbing hold of your arm

"Yes you are, and right now we need to get you home" you brush back the bangs that's over his eyes, admiring your boyfriend for a quick second

"You're so pretty, yah why is my girlfriend so pretty" Joshua gushes, the dopey drunk smile showing on his pretty lips making you smile too.

"Is that how he sounds when he's with you?" Jeonghan jokes

"Pretty much" you joke back, running your hand through Joshua's hair. You then look down at your drunk boyfriend who is now hugging you by the waist keeping you in place.

"You know, he always had a crush on you. If you remember the first game night you attended, he couldn't keep his eyes off of you"

You do remember, Soonyoung was the first friend you made during your first year in university and after a couple of months he introduced you to his group of friends who are now also your friends. That night you also met Joshua for the first time.

The two of you were friends for a long time, you thought he didn't like you that way but you already harbored those feelings for him. Thinking it was best to keep it to yourself until after time you sent him the playlist you made for him.

You never revealed it because there wasn't really a feeling that you needed to. You kept your relationship private at first because you wanted to savor the moment with him before sharing it with the rest of your friends. Weeks turned to months turned to 2 years.

There's no ill intention behind it, it just so happen you and Joshua are private people.

"What?" you ask Jeonghan when you see him smiling

"When are you going to admit it?" Jeonghan asks you, looking back and forth between you and Joshua.

"Admit what?"

The latter shakes his head, before grabbing a water bottle to drink. "You and him, you love him" he says so casually.

You blink back at him, acting like you're innocent and isn't guilty of what Jeonghan just said.

"Of course I do, he's my friend. I love all of you"

"You love us like brothers, you love that one like you're ready to give him a pair of brothers or two" Jeonghan juts his head towards clingy Joshua

"Were we that obvious?"

"A bit, you're not that slick, sorry to burst your bubble babe but the moment Joshua walks in the room you light up like a kid seeing Santa on Christmas day. See you're smiling right now"

You wipe the smile away, unconsciously smiling when you feel Joshua nuzzle his face on your tummy mumbling random words you can't understand.

"I'm smiling because he's funny"

"He's not that funny all the time"

"Yea he is"

"Is he really? Or are you in love with him. Also during Wonwoo's party, Kyeom and Soonyoung said they saw you and Joshua hugging then Dino basically told us there's been something going on between the two of you for a while"

You open your mouth you answer but nothing came out making Jeonghan smirk.

"Hey, you're happy he's happy it's a win for everyone. We support you guys, whatever it is" he gestures at the two of you, "Thank you Han, I'll tell you about it when we're not surrounded by all of this" you laugh.

"Josh, come on it's late"

Your buff boyfriend shakes his head like a little kid being scolded, instead of standing up he just slumps on seat more resting his head on Cheol's shoulder

"It's late, Han will kick you out if we don't go now"

He picks up his head to look straight at you, "Say you'll marry me, I'll come with you"

Jeonghan laughs, walking over to you to help you get Joshua on his feet. He gives you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder

"Go take this one home, I'll take care of the rest"

You help Joshua on his feet, guiding him to your car outside. He was a bit wobbly so you take his arm to make sure he won't fall over.

When you get back to your apartment, you help him change into something else before guiding him to bed. Leaving some medicine and water on his bedside before going over to your side and finally calling it a day.

Come the next day, Joshua woke up with a bit of a hangover which rarely happens. He doesn't get that drunk that easily but Seungcheol kept on giving him shots, the last thing he remembers from last night was calling you.

He immediately noticed the empty spot on the bed, where he would usually find you the moment he opens his eyes. His phone is plugged, sitting on top of the bedside table where a glass of water and some medicine is also waiting for him. He also spots the note with your handwriting saying you're out to go get a few items at the store.

Getting up from the bed, he takes the medicine first before going to the bathroom to freshen up. He probably didn't get to do so last night, the change of clothes surely was done by you. He can't clearly remember how last night ended, all he remembers is you showing up and him being elated you were there.

After an hour, Joshua's casually lounging on the living room when he hears the front door open and close.

"Hey beautiful"

Joshua looks up from where he was sitting on the couch, immediately he smiles when he sees you walking towards him.

"What did you just call me?" he questions you, opening his arms for you. The whole couch is there for you to sit on but he pulls on you his lap, looking up at your face waiting for the answer

"Beautiful" you smile at him, repeating the word as you trace the bridge of his nose down to the tip making him scrunch it. The action doing so much to your heart.

"You're beautiful" he tells you, "Did you get everything at the store?"

"Mhm, we'll make pizza tonight. Oh and I got these for you"

He lets you got so you can go back to the table to get it, when you come back you're holding a bouquet of fresh flowers

"Pretty flowers for my pretty boyfriend" you tell him, going back to where you were sitting on his lap. He takes the flowers from you while you make your self comfortable, "For me?"

"Mhm, saw them today and I thought I should get them for you"

"Did I do something?"

"Huh? No?"

"Did YOU do something?" he raises a brow at you, poking you on the side with his free hand

"Hey! Stop that" you take his hand in yours to stop him from tickling you some more, "I just wanted to get them for you, like you always do for me. And I heard somewhere that most men only receive flowers at the funeral. That's so sad" you pout, looking at the beautiful flowers you got for him

Joshua watches you, heart filling up with more love than he could ever express with words. "You know I love you right?"

This makes you look back at him, a smile forming once again on your lips "Of course I do, silly"

"Thank you for the flowers, darling. I love them. I love you and thank you for taking care of me last night"

You let out a chuckle, recalling how clingy he was the night before "You were being all cute last night, Han witnessed all of it"

"Should we tell them?" he asks you, expecting you to say maybe not but all you did was smile back at him "Bubby, you pretty much demanded that I marry you or you won't come home. You kept on hitting Cheol, saying I'm your girlfriend but he won't believe you. Soonyoung was passed out so I'm still waiting for his version of last night's event"

"I... what?"

You laugh at his confused expression, smoothing out the crease between his brows, "We can tell them, Han knows and I think all of them already has a hint. I think it's time, I definitely enjoyed this peace" you jokingly add the last part

"You sure?"

"Of course, how else would we invite them to our wedding?"

Joshua knows you're poking fun at his drunk antics last night but hearing you say that makes him want to get down on one knee this very moment. There's no doubt you're the one for him, the only person he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

"So you said yes to me last night?" he asks

"Just when we were about to sleep, you asked me again. I said I will but you need to get me a ring first of course I was joking about the ring part but then you mumbled something about having it already"

Joshua don't say anything, hoping you don't read right through his facade right now but you know him all too well.

Leaning closer, you give him an eskimo kiss "I'll pretend you didn't tell me about it if you do plan on asking me"

"I am, I will I just didn't think drunk me would ask you first" he jokes back.

This time he's the one pulling you closer, crashing your lips against his. Hand behind your neck while the other rest on your hip holding you in place

You break away from the kiss, looking straight into your lover's eyes "Well, whatever or whoever version of you ask the question just know my answer will always be the same"

He looks at you, letting the words sink in and just how much they mean to him. "You know, I don't think I can love you more, then I get to spend another tomorrow with you then I fall in love with you some more. I want to keep on falling in love with you everyday"

"You better save those words Mr. Hong, I want to cry when I hear your wedding vows"

"The only time I'll ever make you cry, future Mrs. Hong"

[webslinger-holland]

Hi I absolutely loved heal his heart and saw someone say your request are open so I was wondering if u could write kaz brekker x sick reader just how he would take care of her. I’m sick right now and it’s kicking my arse lmao

Hope nice day :)

Deathly Fever | Kaz Brekker

Warning: mentions of severe illness, mentions of traumatic childhood, mentions of needles and bloodletting

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Over the past few weeks, Kerch had become a victim to a new disease brought from the harbor. It spread rapidly, mainly through air circulation and proximity. Many people speculated that the disease originated from Shu Han as a few cases had been reported from there. Other than the few cases, there was really no proof of where it came from.

People began calling it the 'fragile fever.' This was because the first symptom to show was a high fever and people grew quite frail due to their weakened state. The Shu were working frantically to find some kind of antibiotic that would dissolve the bacterial infection, but they had no success thus far.

The number of casualties was rising rapidly, reporting nearly fifty deaths each day. It acted fast and could take a life in less than twenty-four hours. Ketterdam had fallen into a very dark time.

Being part of the Crows, Y/n was always busy with something. She often ran errands for the group, choosing to buy the needed supplies for most of their heists.

It was now mid-afternoon. She was heading back to the club for the day with a much needed roll of parchment and a new container of ink for her boss. She felt incredibly hot and had even broken out in a sweat despite it being particularly cold that day. She brushed it off as her wearing one too many layers.

Back at the Crow Club, the small group of six were gathered to sit around one of the empty tables. The club wasn't supposed to open for another two hours. In the meantime, the group worked on planning for their next heist. They talked amongst themselves.

"Another ten announced dead from the Financial District," Jesper announced with his nose buried in a newspaper. He dropped the paper onto the table.

"It's moving west," Inej realized. She briefly glanced down at the paper.

"Could reach the Barrel any day now," Matthias claimed. He had been leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

"No news from the Shu?" Wylan asked Jesper. His voice hopeful.

"Nothing that the papers are reporting," Jesper stated. He directed his gaze to look at his boss who sat across from him at the table. He could see that he was deep in thought. "Thoughts on closing the club?" Jesper wondered.

The others turned their heads and looked at their leader expectedly. But Kaz kept his gaze on the silver crow head attached to his cane. He pursed his lips together in thought before shaking his head at the notion.

"No," Kaz said firmly. "We need the business and we need the money."

In that exact moment, the long wooden doors swung open to announce the arrival of someone. The six crows immedielty shifted their gaze towards the source of the noise. Their eyes landed on the familiar figure of the seventh member of the crew. Though, she didn't look quite like herself.

She was covered in a thick layer of sweat, which was clearly evident on her face. She panted heavily to herself; her chest heaving with each breath she took. It looked like she had been running, but she truly hadn't been. The color was robbed from her face.

"I'm...back," Y/n said slowly and breathlessly. She sent them a weak smile, shuffling towards a nearby table to lower her supplies down.

The others quickly looked between each other as if expecting to find some kind of explanation. In the back, Kaz slowly rose to his feet with the help of his cane. His eyes remained on her frail figure.

"Y/n," Kaz called warningly.

It was almost like she didn't hear him because she just kept organizing the things she had brought back to them. Unbeknownst to all of them, Nina moved her hands in a particular motion underneath the table. She sensed her rapid heartbeat, which ultimately meant she probably had a fever.

"Kaz," Nina whispered under her breath. She discreetly turned her head to glance at him through the corner of her eye. "Her heartbeat," Nina began.

He didn't need to be told anything else. He knew what this meant. He inhaled a sharp breathe. He was rudely reminded of his haunting past with disease and how it claimed the life of his brother. He shuddered at the mere thought.

For a brief moment, Y/n felt the entire room go silent. She saw these black splotches begin to cloud her vision. Her head felt light almost. Before she knew it, Y/n had completely lost her footing and had fallen unconscious to the floor.

Without hesitation, the six crows had jumped to their feet in order to rush to her side. It had been Nina who had gotten to her first. She grabbed her shoulder to shift her body to lay on her side. Her fingers hovered over her chest to feel for a heartbeat.

Kaz stood towering over Nina's knelt figure, watching her with hawk eyes. Inej had closed her eyes to say a silent prayer in the background. Jesper had taken Wylan into his arms to bring him some form of comfort. Matthias stood there with as much anticipation as the others.

"She's alright. Just unconscious," Nina announced which made the whole group release a sigh of relief.

"Matthias, take her up to my office." Kaz ordered immediately.

In response, Matthias had dropped down to the floor right beside Nina. He slipped his large arm underneath the unconscious girl's neck, linking his other one under the hook of her legs. He checked to make sure she was secure in his arms.

"Inej, go fetch the doctor." Kaz turned to her. She immediately left their company without another word. "Wylan and Jesper, head down to the market to get medical supplies." Kaz finished.

The two boys nodded their heads understandingly. They rushed towards the entrance with the intent of running to the market as quickly as they could so they could return as soon as possible.

"I'll stay with Nina," Kaz said mostly to himself.

Now Matthias had risen to his feet with the much smaller girl in his arms. He tried to handle her with the utmost care, knowing that if he didn't, Kaz might just have his head. He carefully made his way up the spiral staircase with Nina and Kaz trailing behind him.

Nina went to open the door to Kaz's office. She stepped out of the way so that Matthias could slip through the opening of the office. He stood still for a moment, indecisive of what to do next and where he needed to put her.

"Right over there," Kaz gestured to the sole crimson couch in the corner. So Matthias moved towards the crimson couch. He leaned down to lower the body onto the surface of the couch.

Once Y/n was comfortably laid down, Matthias took a step back so that Nina could sit beside her and Kaz could monitor it all. Nina kept her hand hovering over her chest, concentrating on feeling the pace of her heart rate. She brought her other hand to the side of her dear friend's face, shifting some loose strands of hair out of her face.

Her hair had begun to stick to her skin. Her shirt had a noticeably sweat stain around her neckline. Her breathing was wavering slightly. She looked so sickly up close.

All of the sudden, Kaz didn't see one of his crew members laying on his couch, but instead, the image was replaced of his dead brother who was still covered in those deathly firepox spots and whose eyes had been glazed over. The haunting feeling of his skin being so cold and damp. It gave him chills just thinking about it.

The memories only forced him to turn his head away from the scene. He squeezed his eyes tightly as if trying to push out the images flashing through his mind. He felt a strong sense of bile rising in the back of his throat, threatening to release if he didn't get a grip on himself.

Unable to handle his thoughts any longer, Kaz had left the room in a hurry despite hearing Nina and Matthias calling after him. He slammed the door shut behind him, holding the handle tightly between his leather gloves.

He pressed his backside against the surface of the door and allowed his head to fall back. He closed his eyes once again. His breathing began to increase in speed as he failed to get the sickly image of one of his crows out of his head. His hands shifted to grasp onto the head of the crow cane, keeping him steady.

After a couple minutes of waiting outside, Kaz began to pace back and forth in front of the door. He ignored the slight ache in his right leg. All of the sudden, Jesper and Wylan came clambering up the staircase. They each held a small wooden crate full of vials, rags, and healing herbs.

Upon seeing Kaz, Jesper had halted in his place. He narrowed his eyes at him as if trying to figure out what was going on, but he couldn't figure it out. He cleared his throat to get his boss's attention.

"Got the supplies, boss." Jesper stated.

"Bring them to Nina. She'll know what to do," Kaz did not stop pacing.

With a single nod, Wylan went to enter the office with his supplies. Jesper went to follow him, but he stopped one final time. He stood directly in front of his boss.

"Coming?" Jesper wondered.

Kaz shook his head in denial. He refused to look at him. He took a single step forward to continue his pacing, pressing the tip of his cane against the solid wood floorboards.

In slight defeat, Jesper decided to drop the subject. He turned to walk into the office, joining the others in their attempt to bring their dear friend out of an unconscious state.

Time began to pass.

Before anyone knew it, the large celestial clock of a full moon was hanging high over Ketterdam. The skyline had outstretched its black view of night over the entire city. The stars were sprinkled against the dark sky, almost like salt spread across a table. The lights of the city glowed yellow in the night.

By now, though it had only been a few hours, Y/n's state had taken a turn for the worst. She still failed to wake up. Heavy bags lingered under her eyes and her eyelids had grown darker in color. Her face was still drained of all color and her sweat continued to be an existing condition.

The doctor had been called earlier. He had arrived no more than an hour prior. He checked for the usual symptoms for which he had been seeing every day now. He worked in complete silence. The five crows stood around him and could not take their eyes away.

In the background, Kaz made sure to make no noise as he reentered the office. He stood in the dark corner as he did not really want to be seen by anybody. He held his breathe in anticipation, awaiting to hear the doctor's diagnosis.

Ever so slowly, the doctor lowered her hand back down onto the couch since he had just finished taking her pulse. He reached up to remove the circular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He turned his body around in the chair to address the others.

"Well?" Jesper asked rather impatiently.

"Is she going to be alright?" Inej asked worriedly.

"It's hard to tell," the doctor shook his head.

"Well, what is it? Is it the fever?" Nina persisted. Her fingers pinched a little gold necklace around her neck to ease her nerves.

"I'm afraid so," the doctor replied. "She has all the symptoms."

"What can you do for her?" Wylan pushed.

"Not much I can do," the doctor sighed. He went to open his medical bag, taking out a rather large empty syringe.

"W-what's that?" Wylan practically trembled at the sight.

"It's an option. I can try to bleed her, see if any of the bacteria can be extracted..." his voice trailed off despite his urge to further explain himself.

"But?" Jesper wondered.

"If I bleed her, it might finish her."

Upon hearing this, Nina closed her eyes as if trying to prevent the tears from falling. Matthias went to wrap his arm around her shoulder. Inej began another little prayer to herself. Jesper wiped his mouth with the palm of his hand.

"There is no promise I can save her," the doctor confessed truthfully. "The fever acts fast. Her body grows weaker with each second. I need to know now if you want to to proceed with this."

Hesitantly, the five other crows had turned their heads and looked over to their boss standing in the corner. His eyes remained on the wooden floorboards since he was contemplating his options. He closed his eyes to ignore the stares coming his way.

Even then, Kaz still could not look at her. He couldn't even face his crows, coming to the realization that they were dependent on him to make the final decision on this. He thought for a moment.

"Do what you need to do," Kaz said finally.

Over the next hour, the doctor worked ever so carefully. He had successfully inserted a long tube into her arm to transfer some blood out of her system. The excess blood fed into a single porcelain bowl.

In the given moment, Jesper and Wylan were sitting in one of the corners of the room. They talked quietly to themselves. Meanwhile, Inej had been kneeling at the foot of the bed with her hands folded and her head bowed in prayer. She hadn't gotten up since. Then Matthias was pacing the room as he grew more anxious and nervous with each passing second.

All the while, Kaz remained in his own dark corner. He stood leaning against the wall with the help of his cane for support. Anytime Kaz's eyes fell on the familiar figure on the couch, the haunting memories of his brother came flooding back into his mind. He opted to keep his eyes shut to keep the memories out.

Now Nina came back into the room with a bowl full of cold water. She held a dry rag in the other hand, carrying both of them to the small side table beside the couch. She went to dip the rag into the bowl of water, wringing it out afterwards.

She proceeded to place the wet rag on the sickly girl's forehead in hopes of relieving the heat she felt in her head and to bring down her fever. In response, Y/n turned her head from side to side father slowly. She moaned at the feeling.

After a moment, the doctor removed the single tube from her forearm. He cleaned it off with a spare handkerchief. Then he stood to his feet and took hold of his medical bag. He went to leave the room, but was ultimately stopped by the leader of the group. He halted suddenly.

"Where do you think you're going?" Kaz quirked an eyebrow at the doctor.

"I have other patients to see. Others like her who are dying right now," the doctor insisted while gesturing to the patient behind him. Kaz closed his eyes upon hearing the word 'dying.'

"Name your price," Kaz grumbled under his breath.

"I-I can't stay here," the doctor shook his head in denial. "I have to help others."

In any other situation, Kaz would have stopped the man before he could leave the room. He'd force him to stay there until she got better. He'd pay him all the money in the world if it meant that he could do something to help her. But alas, this time, Kaz let the man go.

Before leaving, the doctor came to a slow halt in his steps. He dropped his head down in slight defeat. He realized that he couldn't do much to help her and he wished he could have done more.

"She's contagious," the doctor announced. He stole a quick glance at the young faces around the room. "If you value your life, you should leave town as soon as you can."

The six crows were able to remain unfazed by the doctor's comment. They glanced between one another, mentally wondering if they were all thinking the same thing.

"No mourners," Kaz began.

"No funerals," the others agreed.

Without another word, the doctor dismissed himself from the company of the crows. The rest of them were left there, slightly uncertain of what to do next. There was a beat of silence.

"We'll take shifts," Nina announced, stepping forward. "Switch every three hours," Nina suggested.

"I'll take the first shift," Wylan offered with a slight raise of the hand.

"I will too," Inej said while standing to her feet.

Over the span of a week's time, the crows had taken turns alternating shifts. It operated in a smooth manner: Wylan and Inej, Matthias and Nina, Jesper and Kaz. Though oftentimes, Jesper was left alone during the shift because Kaz just couldn't stand the sight.

The doctor was only able to come briefly every other day, checking for any signs of improvement. Though they were all running low on energy and sleep, they couldn't begin to imagine how the doctor was since he looked like he hadn't gotten sleep in a whole week.

The city was restless. More people were dying every day. There were a limited number of doctors. They often were forced to pick their work from the person who could pay the most. This left the poor people dying on the streets with no medicine and no doctor at their disposal. Death leaned heavy over the city, claiming the lives of countless innocents.

During the early shift, Inej and Wylan would do anything in their power to make sure their dear friend was comfortable. They tried propping up pillows or covering her with blankets. Inej always prayed over her and Wylan liked to swipe the sweat off her brow with a wet cloth.

In the afternoon, Nina and Matthias were tasked with trying to feed her broth. They would shift her into a sitting position. Nina sat next to her and let Y/n lean her body against her side. This meant that her head was often tucked into the nook of the heartrender's neck. Then Nina raised a small wooden bowl of broth to her lips and helped her drink the warm liquid.

Matthias had to sit in front of the two women. He always made sure that she didn't fall over and that she remained conscious if possible. He wanted to help in any way possible.

In the evening, Jesper and Kaz took on their shift. Out of all the crows, Jesper was the one who tried to defuse the awkward tension. He refused to believe that one of his closest friends was on the brink of death. So Jesper talked.

Especially when Kaz stepped out of the room, Jesper talked to her about anything and everything under the sun. It was almost as if they were just having a regular conversation, but she never responded back. He truly believed that she could hear him though and this encouraged him to keep talking.

Though Y/n had regained consciousness, she was far too weak to even open her eyes or move her mouth to speak. She ate rather slowly and drank little water. Her throat burned with each swallow and her breathes had become strained from effort.

On one particular night, Kaz needed to step out of the room for his own reasons. As soon as the door closed, Jesper directed his attention to the figure who lay on the couch. He leaned forward in slight anticipation.

"This is killing him, you know? Kaz," Jesper said in a low tone of voice.

Upon receiving no verbal feedback, Jesper crossed his arms over the stretch of his chest. He breathed a long sigh of defeat. It felt like their efforts did nothing to help her. They saw no improvement. And it was so disheartening.

"I am already the looks of the operation," Jesper said cockily as always. His cheeky smile faded. His heart became overwhelmed with pure sadness. He felt the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. "I really don't want to be the heart now too," Jesper nearly chocked.

Without thinking, Jesper scooted forward in the wooden chair. He took hold of her limp hand with both of his own. He raised her hand to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the back of it. Then he leaned forward to rest his head against her hand. He cried softly to himself.

"I don't want you to feel bad if you have to go," Jesper cried. He lifted his head which meant the tears rolled down his cheeks. "We'll be alright," Jesper nodded.

Unbeknownst to him, Kaz had quietly opened the door in the background. His hand lingered on the door handle. He kept the door open just slightly to hear the conversation.

"I know what he means to you. And I know what you mean to him, even if he won't let you see it," Jesper added with a slight smile. "I'll look after him. I promise you that," Jesper whispered finally.

Suddenly, Jesper rose to his feet. He went to wipe the tears out of his eyes, sniffling once or twice in the process. He cleared his throat before saying what he thought would be a final goodbye. He pressed a single kiss to the top of her head.

"Goodbye, old friend."

When Jesper had turned around in his place, he was slightly surprised to see his boss standing in the middle of the room. He looked away as if he was embarrassed by his own tears. Instead of addressing it, Jesper simply pushed past him to leave the room and closed the door behind him. And it was just the two of them.

For the first time, Kaz went to sit in front of her. He was careful to lower himself into the wooden chair, forcing most of his weight to lean on his cane. He rested for a beat.

Lowering his gaze to stare down at his black leather gloves, Kaz tried not to think about the painful memories. He just couldn't shake the image of seeing his brother's dead corpse, lifeless and unmoving just like she had nearly been all week.

Now Kaz forced himself to take a deep breath before lifting his line of sight to settle on her sleeping figure. Instead of seeing his dead brother, Kaz was overwhelmed at the mere sight of one of his dearest friends. He wasn't an emotional person normally; he always hid his emotions rather well.

But finally being able to look at her made a part of him break inside. His heart physically ached in pain. He clenched his jaw in order to keep the tears at bay. He felt the anger rising within him.

Why did this have to happen again to him? Why was the world so against him? If saints truly exist, why didn't they save his brother or her by now?

He grew angry at the world just like he had been when Jordie died. He wanted his revenge, but this time, there was nobody to get revenge on. He couldn't help her and couldn't save her.

"I..." Kaz's voice trailed off because he couldn't think of the words.

His eyes trailed down from her face to her hand that was tucked at her side. He slowly moved his hand forward so he could take her hand into his gloved ones. He held her hand.

In a way, Kaz wanted the gesture to bring her some sense of comfort. It acted as a way for her to know that he was there beside her. But in a way, it became more of a comfort for him as he realized she was still with him. She hadn't left yet.

"I'm sorry," Kaz said for the first time.

The Bastard of the Barrel had never been known to apologize to anyone. However, in this particular moment, Kaz felt utterly hopeless. He wished to save her, but he knew he couldn't and he was sorry for it.

"We always say 'no mourners, no funerals.' But I think if you left us...I would mourn for you," Kaz confessed truthfully. "I'd mourn every day for the rest of my life, thinking back on all the times I could have said something about my..."

For his sake, Kaz chose not to finish that sentence. He feared a confession would bring him too much pain at a time like this. He'd save it for now.

"Doesn't matter now," Kaz shook his head. "You'll leave me now here soon. Just like Jordie."

In utter defeat, Kaz rose to his feet and let go of her hand in the process. He went to leave the room without another word. He closed the door behind him as if trying to close another chapter of his life. He couldn't handle it anymore. He broke.

In the very early hours of the morning, Kaz was awoken by a single sun beam hitting the side of his face. He opened his eyes to realize that he had fallen asleep in a chair downstairs. His line of sight was directed to the perch above the club and to the door of his office. It was slightly ajar.

Now Kaz didn't think much of it. That was until he heard a soft sobbing sound coming from upstairs. His heart plummeted into the deepest and darkest confines of his chest. Was she...

The hardest thing he had to do was stand to his feet as he almost felt like he didn't have the energy anymore. He forced himself to climb the spiral staircase, stopping at the very top. He saw Inej sitting on the floor beside the door. Her hands covered her face as she let out small sobs.

Just then, the door of the office opened slightly more. His right hand man stepped out of the room with large tears in his eyes. He took a single step forward to stand in front of his boss. Then Jesper broke out in a smile.

This look was all that Kaz needed. He pushed right past him to enter the room in a hurry. He halted in his steps.

Upon hearing someone enter the room rather loudly, Wylan had turned his head towards the door and revealed Y/n who was sitting up on the couch. She sat next to Nina who was making sure she didn't fall over and who was helping her drink some water.

For some unknown reason, Y/n looked like herself again. All the color had returned to her face. She wasn't covered in a thick layer of sweat since her fever dropped. The dark bags under her eyes had also disappeared from sight. Her eyes were so wide open. Had they always been that color? She looks different; she looks beautiful.

It all made sense now. Inej had been crying tears of joy because her prayers had finally been answered. Jesper had to leave the room because he was so overwhelmed with emotions. She made it through. She was a survivor.

Rather slowly, Kaz limped across the stretch of the room. He refused to take his eyes off her in fear that this all might be some kind of horrid dream. The other crows looked between the two of them, knowing that there was some type of unspoken thing. He stopped right in front of her.

"You're okay," Kaz breathed in a soft whisper. "You didn't..."

"Leave you? Never," Y/n smiled in retort.

"I-I thought I'd lost you," Kaz spoke as if the others weren't in the room. She only smiled up at him.

"You can't get rid of me that easy."

[kairiscorner]

omds i luvvvvvvv your writing so much 🤭🤭 could i req a earth 42 miles or a hobie brown fic where reader gets bullied for dating miles/hobie (whichever one u pick 🖤) because people think she’s “not good enough for him” because she’s like one of the quiet kids she doesn’t go to like parties and stuff like that she’s always studying and that kinda stuff and miles/hobie finds out when one of his friends confronts him ab it (you can write this however u like!!!!) and he talks w reader and stuff just a bunch of htc!! 🖤 thank you sooooo much

OH DAMN, sure thing anon !! i am just like y/n fr it's just that i don't have bitches 😭😭😭 but i hope u like this rahhh !!!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

they're more than worthy of me. – miles 42 x reader

nobody ever has a perfect life, let alone a perfect love life, but when you were with miles, everything felt just right. he loved you with a love that wasn't overbearing or possessive, he gave you your space when you needed it and supported you from the sidelines in every endeavor you dared to try. you didn't stand out much though, really, you blended in quite well into the background. you were used to not being recognized or acknowledged immediately, and you were fine with it—though you were confused why recently, a few of your classmates were acting a little mean to you.

you never harbored any ill will towards these people—as far as you were concerned, you doubt that more than half of these kids would even remember your name. every time you approached a classmate of yours for a question, they'd immediately walk away the minute you walked over to them, others would ask you in sarcastic voices if you couldn't even do something so simple with a smile that tried to get you thinking they meant no harm when in reality, they wanted you away from them. you couldn't even pretend and think that they were just busy or being realistic—that you should be able to do something as simple as the question to an activity that you were stumped on, but you couldn't—this was because a lot of those classmates of yours adored miles.

they liked miles and having his attention on them, angry if anyone else were to get his attention away from them. before you entered the picture, they were all over him—devoted and loved him like a friend, some had loved him in more than just a friendly way, but none of his friends and admirers in your class took it very kindly when they noticed you and miles getting along a bit too well back then; when you two became a thing, everything just got worse. miles still hangs out with some of these people, though he doesn't consider them his friends—tonight, he'd be attending a party of theirs with ganke, with you opting to stay behind and catch up on school works.

late at night, as you were finishing up your studying session, you got a text from miles, asking you to come down and meet him by your front door. you got up from your chair and walked down to your front door, and there he was, battered and bruised in the face—looking into your eyes with hurting in them. you asked him in worried stammers about what happened to him, who did this to him, if he was even okay. you checked his face all over, and when you saw the backs of his hands, they were reddened and scarred, you couldn't tell if the blood was his or someone else's, because you knew this was no accident that happened to him—he got into a fight, a serious one.

"miles, what happened?" you asked him in a shuddering voice, with miles bringing his red, bloody knuckled hands to your shoulders and wrapped you in his arms. he didn't answer you quite yet as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, holding you tightly as his initial response. "how could they not accept that i love you?" he murmured as you gently placed your hands on his back, reciprocating his hug despite your confusion. "i... miles, what?" "ganke told me he heard a bunch of the guys at the party talking shit about you behind my back. i... i confronted them, asked them why they said what they said, but the last thing they wanted to do was cooperate and be honest. so i... i did some things i wasn't proud of. i'm sorry, i'm just so sick of people hurting you all for my sake–you deserve better, mi cielo..." he whispered as you pulled away from him, watching the tears form in his eyes as he frowned up at you amidst the cuts and bruises on his face.

you brought him into your house and sat him down on the couch, hurriedly getting him a first aid kit to treat his wounds. you wrapped his knuckles up in gauze, with him mindlessly following your hands with his gaze–him taking in all the gentle and softness of your touch. "i'm sorry, again, mi vida. i shouldn't... i should've handled it better." miles apologized to you again as you were tying up the gauze on his hand. "love..." you called out to him, placing your hand on top of his with concern and love filling your gaze. "i'm just glad you're alive and well. i wish you didn't have to get hurt or hurt anyone, but... i'm glad you love me enough to defend me like you did even though i wasn't there." you said in a quiet voice, smiling up at him with tears in your own eyes, matching the tears in his as he looked back at you and nodded, his lower lip quivering.

"i'd do it all again, and more, for you–mi cielo. i swear, you... you won't ever shed another tear... because of another person being an asshole to you–i can't not love you, cielo, i can't..." miles murmured with a cracking voice as he got more vulnerable. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him close as he sobbed, muttering to you how he'd love you forever, that much would never change–no matter if the multiverse demanded you two cannot be, he'd make a world for just the two of you, even if everyone else would disagree.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @solecitoszn @onginlove @euphovlq @meowmoraless

[cu7ie]

hiiiiii ☺️ if u r still accepting thirsts, what kinks do u think toman have? u can pick whoever u like!

content: discussion of various kinks. consensual involvement of all parties implied. masochistic reader: nahoya, baji, mitsuya, draken. public sex: mitsuya. very (extremely) brief mention of cannibalism: baji , takemitchi x hana x reader in takemitchy's part. assplay - takemitchi. penis headcanon - takemitchi

MINORS DON'T INTERACT.

an: i got this fucking eons ago. it is finally answered this fine day. (with the help of @bimbohub - much love <3) some of these are unorthodox. argue in the comments or my inbox <3.

chifuyu likes —

bottoming. a firm hand and a strong direction to provide him that foundation - stability to do what needs to get done instead of trying to figure it all on his own.

roleplay. he favors pet/master play, but doesn't mind schoolkid/teacher, or boss/worker - just prefers being the one on the leash, the one being reprimanded, the one being punished ... doesn't mind a role reversal from time to time!

cucking. would let baji fuck his partner. hell, if the whole of toman wanted to fuck, his baby would just have to say the word, and he'd open the floodgates. for chifuyu it doesn't spawn shame within him, and he doesn't harbor ill will towards friends who choose to indulge in you - there's no shame in them liking you when he loves you so much. it's only natural.

bondage. not any more skilled in rope tying than your average delinquent, but there's something so gratifying about rubbed raw wrists - the imprint the binding leaves behind feels like an unspoken badge of honor. that n' the soreness in his hips, because he never lets you take it easy on him.

kazutora likes —

feet. would beat up a schmuck and steal his money just so he can pay for your pedicure. has to beg you to play a little 'footsie' (cute, right?) because you hate the sticky, gross feeling of his cum between your toes, but he's pleading, bargaining with you even. says he'll clean up his own mess and everything.

and gosh. how could you even turn down such a sight?

quickies. i feel like tora cums fast anyway, but there is certain energy contained within that bit of sex, the hurriedness of it all, the mess he leaves pooling in your panties for you to clean (or cope, if you two are in public.) and it's versatile. you could use your hand, mouth, thighs, hole. he's not at all picky.

voyuerism. tora has a little eye that likes to spy. it supersedes any love for exhibitionism or public sex - it's so much more intimate than that. getting to see you undress. touching yourself with such little shame, when you're so shy up close. he has endless moments and memories captured in his mind. some in your bed, some in your shower - his bed. in the living room that one time! enough jerk off material for a millenium.

nahoya likes —

oral. specifcally, your mouth. loves getting his dick sucked because he's impatient and it allows him a delicious amount of control. he can get you to bob up and down with a hand on the back on your head - choke you with the thickness of his cock, the head of it brushing up against your uvula. he's not even worried when you gag. hit his thighs all you like, but you're getting nowhere fast being bratty.

hair-pulling. pulling your hair. he's a little attack dog and will get a little too rough - but one hand in your hair gives him something to focus on- an anchor deeper into you. firm grip, subtle tension. just enough to make you neck curve and your moans just a little more work. likes his hair grabbed too, but gives you specific instructions, grab it a little tight at the root. tug gently. it's fun when you're riding him, such a determined look on your face trying to remember what he said when he's fucking the thoughts out of you.

spitting. sometimes in your mouth, sometimes just on you. it's a part of degradation he holds to a higher esteem than all the others. he does it with precision and intent - a firm slap on your ass and a bit of wetness on your back. sometimes he makes you lean your head back when he's fucking you so hard your hips are on lift-off, and he spits on your tongue; pulling you up to kiss him after.

"that's liquid gold. don't waste it."

baji likes —

biting. rabidness and feralness is all baji knows. even when he's not fucking, he says he bites the things he likes and the more he talks about how he wants to mark you everywhere, his oral fixation nearly ebbs into cannibalistic ideation. sometimes it's a little nibble, doesn't even leave a mark. other times it's a violent chomp, that makes you gasp and sometimes the pain makes you let out a confused moan, flinching upright and away.

but then he's settling atop you, pulling you into his lap, bending you over the counter.

expect lots of new marks before the end of the night.

rough sex. baji will bruise hips, leave crescent shaped marks in hips, bites all over your neck, fingers gripping your hair like a leash. he fucks with a foot on your head, pins you down as he pistons his hips in and out so hard his balls sting when they clap against your skin. spurred on by your whining and moaning, he'll switch positions.

full nelson? your legs are going past your head. sometimes he'll even just wrap a snug arm around your neck while he's rolling his hips into you like a demon, fucking you so hard your insides feel throbbing and bruised.

you cum the hardest when you're at least a little lightheaded, though, so not being able to walk afterwards is kinda worth it.

slapping. will put his hands on anything. baji's law? if it can be slapped, it absolutely will. he'll slap ass, tits, cock, balls. he wants to hear it, see it flop and jiggle as you cringe away from the sudden touch, but whine for more of him anyway. he likes to see you jerk, feel the heat created by his palm as he rubs his hand over the spot.

and if he does it hard enough, you flinch from the after-sting.

draken likes —

size difference. naturally, draken is a pretty big guy. when he was younger it was easier to notice among smaller peers, but the novelty doesn't wear off as he gets older. especially when he starts dating you. his hands are so big they can wrap around both wrists, and you squirm beneath him pathetically as his shadow covers you with ease, and he's cooing almost cruelly about how big his dick is in comparison to you, contemplating how you might stretch n' squeeze sooo deliciously around him. he'll flop it against your tummy, let you feel it's red hot warmth as it throbs intimidatingly. and he cums there's not enough space to fit it all! the sheer amount always ensures your sheets are sticky after.

he also loves being able to pick on somebody his own size. his cock will punch the air out of your lungs. he's rougher because he worries less about breaking you. doesn't have to drape you over his cock and use his hands to move you because you can do the work all on your own. loves watching you fuck yourself on his dick while he all he has to do is lay back and watch you. the sweat collects on your brow as you try to maintain your pace atop him, and he's laughing in a way that makes your face hot and cheeks sting. and the moment he gets antsy from not moving, you're getting fucked on your side while he reminds you of just how well you've been taking him.

brat taming. draken does not do any kind of disobedience in the slightest. it takes him a while to reach that point with you, but you can't deny your easing and egging him on.

you wanna cop an attitude because he ate the food you said you didn't want? you wanna give him the cold shoulder because he didn't run after you to comfort you after you stormed off? he can handle it. he can take it and compartmentalize it, forget about it - only because you're kissing up on him afterwards. but there's always the straw that breaks the camel's back.

his frustration reaches a boiling point when he's cooking dinner and you suck your teeth after he asks you to hand him a knife, and his head snaps so fast to look at you his braid tosses itself over his shoulder. he washes his hands in an instant, not paying mind to your complaint about him getting your shirt wet when he grabs you by your wrist and takes you back to the bedroom, making you lay across his lap. he will make you apologize. every defiance, every squirm or misspeak is rewarded with a SLAP! that's so loud it embarrasses you more than it hurts. that only lasts for a second, as the pain filters in and you mumble a little "ow..."

which he spanks you for again! you're supposed to be apologizing, remember?

spanking. draken has a special ritual for clapping his hands against your ass, believe it or not. one strike means a verbal apology. two strikes means you're on thin ice, and he expects you to bow your head and maintain silence for a moment or two. three strikes? you are getting bent over his knee, and no apology you stutter out between him taking you back to the room and spreading out over his lap can dissuade him from putting you back in your place.

he had big hands, and is used to leaving marks or bruises sometimes. if you're (un)lucky, he'll be wearing his rings as he does it. The sound of each smack like music to his ears as he gets off on you squirming and tearing up, the pain growing to be too much. then he stops. lets you catch a quick breath before the next smack forces it back out of you.

after the fact, when you're blubbering and seemingly can't run your mouth anymore, he has you take care of his hard-on. maybe if you stopped being such a brat, he'd help you out too. eats you out after if you do a good enough job.

mikey likes —

size difference. mikey has a vested interest in establishing hierarchy within his relationships. whatever your body is became his when you started dating him. and as his bitch, he expects you to, no matter how big you are, bend to his will when it's time to fuck. he likes being the dominant party.

loves being able to bend a big bitch over. appreciates how you gasp when he picks you up and fucks you into the wall. or the look of confusion on your face when he can bend you in half and make you stay that way. if you're smaller than him, why, he enjoys teeny cock sluts too. the ones that strangle his cock, hole so fucking tight he has to work them open with terrifyingly slow rolls of his hips.

he likes big cocks, small tits, fat pussy, skinny cock, tiny pussy. fat ass, flat ass, big muscle, chubby tummy, flabby arms! tall, short. if it's different he likes it. if it's familiar he also likes it.

breastfeeding. sucking on nipples, milk or no, legitimately calms him. he can fist his cock and just settle in your lap (or sometimes he can get you to stroke him off) while he latches onto you, sucking and licking over the fleshy bud until you're squirming from the pleasure. it becomes cold and is over far too soon as he moves to the other one. lightly nibbling and tugging with his teeth.

milk adds a new depth to the fun he can have. as he cups your chest in your hand and makes a daft comment about 'leaky udders' and reliving pressure. he can always take what you have to give. it's almost like he never gets full.

roughhousing. mikey likes something about being underestimated. by enemy gangs is one thing - but you can get so haughty sometimes! what's a better way than giving you a noogie to scramble your brains, or with tussling to the ground when you stick out your lip and say "Make me?" he's used to it, and it's so fun to get to flex his strength over you - especially because after he pins you down, the look of you, so helpless ...

sometimes he can't help it if it goes a little further! if it ends up with him pushing your thighs to your chest and biting at your mouth trying to kiss you- bruising the back of your ass as the force of his hips clatters into you and makes you squeal.

he's just a little easy to rile up is all.

mitsuya likes —

gang-banging. he thinks sex with you alone is just fine. however he wouldn't mind if you brought your friends... or maybe you wouldn't mind if he brought his? he's a little selfish. wants a little bit of this or a little bit of that - kiss from this person, nipple play with that person, fingers crooked inside another.

he's never not busy and that's the way he likes it, true facts. when it comes to sharing you with his friends though, he only has one rule. he needs to be inside you at all times. he prefers creaming in your ass/stuffing your pussy, but he'll very begrudgingly settle for your mouth - depending on who's asking. the most important criteria is that he starts and finishes inside. kind of like the last man standing.

flogging. mitsuya likes to punish brats with a small voice and a big stick. he lets you complain, lets you stomp your feet and have your tantrum after dinner, while you're a little tipsy and mad at him for not getting you that one extra glass of wine. he just smiles and takes you home, but as soon as you're inside, he's helping you strip. you're still mumbling your protest as you go and lay on the bed, ass up like he told you to.

maybe you act out like this because you like getting punished? it's not like he doesn't remind you with his patient smile that doesn't meet his pointed eyes. anyway, it all ends the same. with you curling your fingers into your blanket and squealing as the instrument snaps sharply against your ass, blood rushing to the site that gives a cool euphoric feeling, before fading out into a dull, painful throb.

you sniffle about how you're sorry, but moan every time the flog comes down on your ass, filtered in between your little whines and tears.

bimbo training. mitsuya just finds dumb sluts sooo cute. the ones that mindlessly lap at cock and suck on balls, eager to have a load shot deep down their throat, and smart enough tor remember to thank him afterwards. he maintains a strict wardrobe for them. no heels lower than one inch. tops are meant to be formfitting but not uncomfortable - he would end up procuring or creating your pieces on his own, giving you accessories to match every single outfit, but you're not allowed to wear them during the sex part of training.

mitsuya likes gentle reminding. encouragement to try the things you're afraid of, how it'll be okay if you just focus on the sound of his voice, forget about everyone else in the room, just ride his cock like he knows you want to...

it's fun not having to think when it comes to mitsuya. when you stutter or stumble or don't know what to say, he just smiles and speaks for you, thinks for you. it's a lot less stressful! a whole lot more efficient too. mitsuya still takes his time to explain things to you, (so kind!) breaking it down into many little parts so it's easier for you to digest!

oh... what would you do without him?

takemitchi likes —

cucking. he really doesn't deserve hana. it makes his stomach roll every time he thinks about how she settled for him - when she has all the makings to be her own woman - with a better guy (or girl) that could give her all she could ever want - and not have to settle with his short comings. but she kisses up on him the same, strokes his cock slow like she usually does, kisses him on the forehead when he cums...

so when you come along, with the measured kindness that makes his stomach flutter and his head hurt, he tells hina about you. then she meets you. and falls for you just as he did. it's always been his desire to see you two fuck. hear hina moan when you slurp on her clit just right, fingering her pussy till she's clenching around your fingers and make her lick her own wetness from your skin. you fuck her with toys first, then work her up to something bigger.

(penis'd) your cock is a lot fatter than his. he knows because when you fuck into hina for the first time the head squishes and you groan, hips stuttering as you get caught on the tightness of her pussy and releasing a shuddering breath, hina's eyes are closed and her mouth is stuck in an euphoric 'oh', takemitchi's hand like a blur as he angrily fists his cock and bites down on his hand. he's never seen hina make those faces before, make those squeaky breathless noises. he cums to the sound of her moaning your name, and from the sound of the bed shaking, you're no where near finished.

(strap'd) hina's not used to all the bumps and texture on this silicone cock. every angle you hit deeper inside her forces out a hoot or a little holler, her face beet red as you whisper filthy things into her ear. about how she's a little slut for letting her husband watch, how this pussy is now your property ... hina is bent over the bed over the bed at one point, calling out for takemitchi to do ...something. after a point all her noises blur together, but he does end up holding her hand through her orgasm, which you also faithfully fuck her through. she's creamed over your cock at least twice now - faster than takemitchi pulling a single orgasm out of her.

overstimulation. it's not hard to get takemitchi to cum his brains out. a bit of breathing near his cock, a single tug, is enough to get him hard. so imagine a mouth that won't let up? a hand that's so insistent on pumping load after load after load until he has no more to give. a vibrating toy on his nipples or strapped to his dick or up his ass? it's going to put him out of commission for five to six business days. he's always a sweaty sticky mess, pleading for less friction when he's the one who's been bucking into your hand this whole time.

obviously, he still wants it. and who are you to stop a thirsty man from drinking his water?

anal stimulation is another thing he can't handle. a butt plug stretching him out like a glove, a dildo, or a fat cock up his ass? strap or no, he's lost the ability to speak at that point. he's all flushed red and tries to be quiet, but you always wring those noises out of him, somehow.

[solarrclxud]

HAPPY VALENTINES

pairing : multi x reader (wriothesley , neuvillette , childe , ,xiao )

genre: fluff

warnings : not proofread , the use of " my love"

a/n: well guess who just got revived from the dead ! (its me hello) ALSO ill be getting to my inbox soon! thank you for the requests while i was gone !

Wriothesley watched you dust a shelf that held his extravagant and excessive tea collection . You were muttering something about how he really needed to clean more often when he shifted his head off of his palm to grin . You squinted at him . " You're being suspicious" you prodded him. He shook his head and looked down to the work he was supposed to be doing as you resumed dusting , moving to the shelf below , only to see a tiny box behind the usual boxes of tea. With a slight frown you attempted to move it to the front . As you put it down , something rattled within and u heard wriothesley get up from his chair . " Finally, i thought you'd never find it" he laughed. You stared at him confused . He smiled and made his way over to you , opening the box in your hands to reveal a keychain . One you'd seen in the market a few days ago but hadn't bought.

" Happy valentines my love "

Xiao was deliberate with his gifts. They were frequent and personal. Thanks to him, you had an entire box tucked away in your cupboard , full to the brim with charms to ward off evil, flowers he had picked up and chunks of ore he had carved while u slept. Today when you awoke to a piece of jade used as a paperweight for a small note on your side table, it was not a new occurrence. The note was written in beautiful flourish and u smiled as you read it. A simple good morning and a wish for a good day. You didn't think much of it through the day as you went about the Harbor , couples exchanging simple affection was a usual for you to see at the cafe u ran but today it seemed more frequent. In the evening you walked back to the Inn , to find Xiao pacing on the balcony, slightly red faced. When you called to him , he jumped like a startled animal before he smiled a little, holding out what seemed to be a hair piece fashioned from the same kind of jade he had given to u in the morning.

"i have heard that mortals have this celebration of love. i thought it fit hat we must take part as we are...in love."

Childe was out on a business trip. His absence felt strangely heavy that day due to the presence of couples around liyue harbour. You had longed to see him for a week now but all you had was a letter from a few days after he had left , dating his return to the next month. It was one of his longer trips no doubt . As you got home that evening, you unlocked your home and was met with the sound of someone already there. You frowned , grabbing a knife from the kitchen as you etched towards the sound of...singing? Now that you thought about it the voice was familiar. You entered your bedroom to childe leaning over a bouquet of flowers strategically placed on the bed humming a tune in obvious excitement. You began to laugh, causing him to turn around to see you and inevitably join in.

"the job finished faster than planned, thanks to my expertise so i thought id suprise you ! happy valentines!"

Neuvillette was a doting lover, and contrary to his professional persona, at home he was nothing but a tired man. That morning you woke up to him for the first time in what felt like ages. You checked the clock, 10am, he was late. You uttered his name softly in an attempt to wake him up. He just hummed and nuzzled further into you, it was obvious he was awake by the soft smile on him face. " Neuvi you're late" . He shook his head and pulled you closer. His voice muffled as he said,

"I took a day off...i have a reservation at a restaurant but can we go back to bed for now my love?"

slaying with the comeback (school is murdering me)

[takes1]

Hi !!! Hope u had a great day:)

I’d like to request some fluff with maybe Kuroo or Akaashi?

Take care of urself, love u (nd ur works !!)💗

hi!! thank you so much and ty for the request! take care and much love babes!! i kinda ended up using this more fluffy req as a backdrop for a kenma/kuroo/reader series idea i had ;)

warnings. sfw, fluffy / nsfw to follow in future parts

info. fem!reader / kenma-esque!reader / flirty!kuroo / kuroo with a crush / TA!reader / collegeau / quiet-shy!reader / future kenmaxreaderxkuroo / 900 words. reply to be added to taglist

haikyuu collection here.

more links. my ao3. masterlist.

If it wasn't for how slow this class dragged, Kuroo never would have raised a hand for the TA to come over and look over his syntax file.

But he had no intention of staying later, nor getting a shit grade because his lines were wrong, so he resorted to somewhat-desperate measures. Not like the guys at his table were any help, anyway. Two of them never got off their phones, and one was packing up after he breezed through the assignment.

Glazed eyes rolled, semi-jealous, mostly disinterested, over the seat becoming vacant next to him. Try-hard.

It filled with a much better view. How hadn't he noticed the TA was a chick before?

"What's the issue?" You asked, unbelievably quiet and even.

A couple clicks on his keyboard, which he noticed was not perfectly clean at this moment, and a different file replaced the first.

The light reflected back in your eyes- big, and wide, yet completely expressionless. It was familiar, in a way, and he felt almost drawn into you to look for how, or why. He leaned closer just by an inch.

"Nothin'," He mumbled, eyes bouncing back and forth from your face to his laptop, "Just wanted a check."

You didn't look at him. In fact, you weren't going to. He stared at the side of your face and found that you harbored none of the same curiosity for him.

Did he know you from somewhere else?

Unlikely. You looked like you didn't get out much.

"You should take a look at your third line, it's off," You sighed, glancing around the room to locate two more hands up.

Just as you started to stand up and leave him to figure out what was wrong, his chatter demanded that you stay a moment longer.

"Couldn't you just- I don't know, tell me what's wrong with it?" He smirked.

You turned towards him, unamused, and he realized exactly who you reminded him of.

A very handsome, entertained grin filled his face while you explained that it's not your job to do his work.

In the middle of your next sentence, he shamelessly cut you off in a rush of excitement, eyes darting, curious but certainly not innocent, over every bit of you.

"That's it! Kenma-," He chuckled, leaning back in his seat.

"--What-, what?" Your brow furrowed, just about the only emotion you had expressed yet, at his off-putting and ill-timed realization.

"You're just, uh-," He tapped his pencil, tentative, on the desk, and let it go, "You're totally my buddy's type."

"Is that a joke?"

"No! No," He smiled and rubbed his face, clearly occupied with a flurry of thoughts, and somehow settled on, "You should give me your number," In the midst of it all.

You turned around without another word and left to help the other students.

He sat, dumbfounded, still grinning open-mouthed as his pencil rolled off of his desk and hit the floor.

Part of him just couldn't believe he was so off of his usual game. He couldn't recall any other time he had been shut down like that; at least not by a girl.

And yet, it further proved his point since that was something Kenma had done to him multiple times.

He stayed for the entire class just to talk to you again. He had slightly more intelligence than to try and get your help again, so he waited until the room cleared out and you were packing up to attempt smoothing things over.

You visibly straightened, book clutched harder to your chest, when he approached.

"I'm sorry," Kuroo held his hands out in a way that made him seem a bit more harmless, but you didn't let up, "Honest, I didn't mean to freak you out back there."

The guy was tall -towering, even- and his black t-shirt left little to the imagination. You didn't often associate with guys like him, if at all. It threw you off that he kept trying to talk to you.

Your nose was scrunched just a little. Exactly like Kenma when he got upset about something. This time, he kept his cute aggression to himself with a sobering breath.

"I'm Kuroo." He held his hand out for you to shake.

Oh, God. You hated handshakes.

He bit back a smile.

"I'm... (Y/n)," Hesitant, you returned it and tried not to think too hard about how giant his hand was.

It got a lot harder the longer you looked up at him. You felt your face getting warm when you noticed how broad his shoulders were, even when stooped down to come across as more friendly.

"I get not wanting to give your number out," He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, "So I'll just give you mine."

It wasn't until later that you realized there were actually two numbers written down, and you would have no clue which one was his.

"You sure you don't wanna go grab a coffee or something?"

His crooked grin was something out of a romantic novel, but all it did was make you shrink. His even bigger grin told you he already knew the answer.

An instant no- every part of you wanted to get away from this guy so you could just relax again.

"Fair enough," He wasn't subtle in the way he glanced around your face, your hair, your eyes, before tearing himself away, "Just think about it, yeah?"

taglist:

none! reply to be added for future parts

[instant-delusions]

Could u write a jealous Shinobu x F reader? She’s jealous that reader is always hanging out with Giyuu. She thought reader always had a crush on her because of how reader acts infront of her (all shy and serious. Always trying not to embarrass herself infront of Shinobu). But seeing how talkative and friendly reader is with Giyuu, she starts overthinking and getting jealous of Giyuu. So she joins the duo and keeps on trying to get reader’s attention and throwing quick insults at Giyuu to try and make him not seem ‘cool’. Love the way u write!

tysm for the req! it's such a cute idea

𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙨𝙖𝙬

shinobu kocho x f! reader

cw: jealousy, a little angst

shinobu kocho was agitated. mindlessly pacing around the egawa of her butterfly estate, repeating the images - the burning images in her head. you, touching tomioka's hand to get his attention; you, tipping your head back in a heartfelt laugh at something he said. it made her gag. it made her hot with an odd, seething anger. an oily feeling in her stomach, sticking everywhere on her insides.

of course, she knew that expectation - hope - was something she had no right to have. in this line of work, it was a liability, a stupid distraction from what was about to come. though, she never shyed away from teasing you or from uttering sweet nothings to you. it was natural, a reflex, one might say, for you were so captivating. a beautiful blossom's nectar to a butterfly.

it was somewhere along the way you pursed your lips, in the way you adjusted your uniform, or the way hummed a tune, that she became entangled. it made the vein on her forehead pop in frustration. she shifted her knees slowly, noticing the soft sound of footsteps coming closer. with a low blow of air, she put out the flame of the senko, watching the cursive lines of smoke as the room filled with the smell of fennel.

"kocho!", there was a sweet voice and a knock at her door. carefully, as to not crumble her haori, she stood up to slide it open and walk out.

"well, hello, y/n." she smiled, observing the way you fiddled with your clothes, how you guided your eyes away from her gaze. it made her brows furrow. the insect hashira looked at her co-worker next to you, the ever so stoic giyuu tomioka. she almost sneered at him, failing to hide the twitch in her upper lip. truthfully, kocho harbored no ill feelings towards this man. it could almost be said that they're friends, though she was all too familiar with the feeling crawling up on her, anger, distaste, a hint of annoyance. a cocktail of emotions she sipped on every day.

"i wanted to ask if ... you were free this evening." you said quietly, and if tomioka had not been there, kocho knew it'd made a part of her facade crack. "why are you being so strangely introverted?" he asked, almost deadpanning. she watched as you nudged his side, with a hushed "hey!", almost scolding him. it made her want to tear his face off. "what's the occasion?" something in the way your eyes shot to her, and your cheeks reddened, made her mood lighter. "a new koi pond opened," you started, "we should toss some coins for luck."

shinobu didn't reply at first, pressing her lips into a thin line. "are you joining us, tomioka?" she asked - as always, her voice should've sounded nice, sickly sweet, almost, but it came out forced, sharp. the water hashira looked confused, almost put on the spot - as he'd expected to come along anyway. nevertheless, she knew how to play these games. using simple mind tricks to make someone uncomfortable and embarrassed, and they do what you want. right now, shinobu wanted him to leave. it was a difficult task to do without revealing her intentions and jealousy.

kocho shinobu is a planner, a schedule slave, each of her moves, and each of her words carefully picked. so, as the three of you reached the pond, she felt some sort of disappointment. it was as though something didn't work out, a step failed, the goal now seemingly out of reach - but when she looked at you, it was hard for her to rationalize her anger. if you did harbor feelings for tomioka, she deemed it was going well. you laughed at his dry jokes, the one she could barely even listen to, and he smiled, more often than she'd ever seen. it was unfair of her, knowing that even if she won you over, it would be ... fleeting. another plan cutting roughly through the one labeled love. her mind was so preoccupied with revenge and hate that it would be a shame to let you in, to taint you.

"kocho?" she blinked as her name rang in her ears, looking at you. "would you like to pet them as well?"

you both sat down at the rim of the pond, the stone warm from sunshine. she watched as you ran your fingers along the spine of a rather big koi, white and red in color. for a while, only the occasional splash could be heard. "are you okay, kocho?" said girl retracted her fingers from the pond, wiping it on her haori. "why do you ask?" she heard you hum in thought, poking another koi, a thinner one - orange. "you looked so irritated today, I wondered if it was because of something I did."

shinobu halted her movements, looking into the distance. a sort of melancholic look on her face. after a while, she lifted the corners of her lips into a little smile. "i'm...jealous of tomioka, it seems." she confessed, her tone indicating that she felt a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. "jealous?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. "whyever would you be?". kocho lifted her hand, hiding her lips behind it - a little chuckle escaping her, almost as if she found it ridiculous herself. "you talk and smile with him so openly..." she starts, "i want to be the one receiving your attention."

a blush rose in your cheeks, and she felt happy seeing the pink in your face. "oh, but kocho, my heart always beats too fast around you. i am almost unable to form a sentence." kocho tilted her head, her smile spreading even further. she could feel the fat of her cheeks bundle.

"promise to gift me more of your time."

[mchib]

I need some Rize and Shuu friendship headcanons!

thank u anon!

i want to say ive never written a fanfic or anything of the sort so im not experienced in that field of writing but i do like do do character analasys and like headcanoning things so feel free to share any opposing views!!

first and foremost i feel like they have a common character flaw that they expect nothing less of an extravagant lifestyle even though both of them attempt to uphold and fulfil this different ways i feel like they would find great company in like luxurious or over the top things and they could perhaps be one of the only people that dont harbor distaste or skeptical feelings towards each other upon learning of the others hobbies. they also have certain tastes and are both picky eaters in their own ways so i imagine a lot of discussions would be had about what characteristics make someone more tasty. that being said i think shuu would continuingly tell rize that shes way too messy and she should invest in self control or at least be more private about her eating habits lolol.

i also feel like they would find solace in each others company talking about like art and philosophy although i imagine shuu already had more than enough people to rant to i think that rize would definitely genuinely listen and engage. if they fought or had a disagreement i imagine one of them being stuck head first in a concrete wall and then shuu would refuse to to her for like a day and call her a barbaric hoodlum behind her back but no real feelings or resentment would comply. i feel like a normal person having a conversation with any of the two would somehow contain an interference of something along the lines of 'woah woah woah you cant say that man thats too far' because they both make pretty morbid jokes but if it were just the two i feel like they would feel as though they could freely speak their mind without anyone wondering how they were raised or what set of events led to such absurd jokes being recited in such grim circumstances.

i feel like shuu would feel sort of be offended meeting rize upon hearing that her insides were used to turn kaneki half ghoul as even when kaneki loses all sanity his and rize's personalities are not compatible in the slightest, and so before learning to get over it he would feel kind of awkward around her because he wants to be mad at her but he knows it wasnt her fault at the same time so hes trying to be civil about it. meanwhile she would think of him as an antisocial snob and try to brag to him about how she made something of herself without being spoon-fed and is able to manage her giant appetite while on the run from the ccg and ghouls alike.

when shuu is like in his terminally ill granny state i feel like she would stay by his side but also be discouraging saying stuff like 'men should suffer in silence' and 'a public execution would be more appealing'. i feel like when they go out together shuu would try really hard to convince her to clean up so they can look fresh as hell and go fancy places but rize always ends up consuming some random homeless guy on the street. rize gives off 'i want to be with the bourgeoiseses' vibes but when they come around she just doesnt want to put in the effort. 'just kick reason to the curb and come with me!' (can you tell i do lyric analasys).

i feel like rize would like use shuu's rich people resources to make stuff like lets pose a hypothetical that ghouls could eat cookies. rize would use shuu's kitchen and ingredients to make the most foul tasting cookies and then put a sticky note on them telling shuu not to touch. then he flips out. rize is also very not used to not having to do dishes or anything in his household so she feels weird about being emptyhanded while others make the food. she'll be trying to hide her pleasure with being treated with such luxury but you can definitely see her grinning at the dinner table. we know she has table etiquette from her and kaneki's date but whats to stop her from completely disregarding all manners when shes in the presence of ghouls? i feel like she'd be kinda gross the first few times over cuz men aint shit but she kind of grows into being at least presentable at dinner.

when they r in the car shuu wants to be passanger princess but he doesnt trust rize behind the wheel. hes not the hero we deserve, but hes all we have right now. irrelevant but if rize was driving she'd like crash on the highway for fun or something. she has a fake license that says something like risse kaminishi from district 12

ok thats all i can think of rn & sorry if i mischaracterized shuu im not nearly as much of an expert on his character but i do enjoy him a lot

[i-heart-hxh]

Do u think Gon may be jealous of Alluka because of Killua or blame her for their separation due to his own immaturity? 'Cause you know, that's exactly that some part of the famdom thinks and it baffles me

Alluka(/Nanika) saved Gon's life! I don't think he'd ever harbor negative feelings towards her. I'm sure he's very grateful that she gave him a second chance at life, in spite of everything that happened. Gon also isn't the sort to spiral into jealousy easily unlike Killua.

I do think the situation with Alluka must have come as a big shock to Gon, though--here he and Killua spent so much time together and were such huge parts of each others' lives, Gon screws up, pushes Killua away, nearly dies, wakes up, and suddenly Killua has this sister he's almost certainly never even mentioned to him, saying she healed him and she's his #1 priority and he wants to spend his whole life protecting her. I'm sure Gon blames himself for what happened, even the parts that aren't actually his fault, and doesn't begrudge either Killua or Alluka for how things went, but it must be confusing for him to grapple with because of the suddenness of it all.

I think Gon wishes he and Killua could be back together, and he wishes he could understand Killua's feelings about the whole situation better, but I don't think he has any kind of ill will or bad feelings towards Alluka even though he misses Killua and wishes he could still be by his side. It doesn't feel in-character at all to me for Gon to blame or feel jealous towards Alluka.

Because Alluka is someone who strongly loves Killua as well, I actually see that as a bonding point for them--and Alluka is someone Killua deeply cares about, so of course Gon is going to care about her, too. They don't know each other well so far, but I'm sure whenever they're able to spend more time together, they'll get along great!

[pafbar]

is the idea that you shifted your focus away from the comic and more toward the animations? also we need a mailing list or something so i stop getting jumpscared with new content😭

does ted have a mental illness or is he just genuinely dumb?

anyway pafbar your art changed my life i cannot put enough emphasis on how awesome you are. also youre really awesome for liking aphex twin

thanks ilysm

-rusty

Ooooh yes you are right I am currently very interested in making big animations, for as long as I can anyways!!! I will be real, I would really love to make a harbor city website like the homestar runner one or something that makes the series far more interactive and with a central home - a mailing list would be cool to have with it, thank you for the suggestion!!

Oh heavens nooo Ted is just a weird little guy. He's probably got ADHD undiagnosed, he's just got an odd little cranium! He's pretty sharp in a few ways, with his sense of humor and information he can hold onto sometimes, but then he'll turn around completely forget you can't grab pans from the oven for a second, long enough to burn his damn hands. I don't really know how to assign him, but he's just a lil funny!

and dawww.... thank u.... and i love me some mister twin what can i say!

[gayleafpool]

Give me some Varian and/or Hugo related angst

Just rip my skin off with it

Go hard bestie

FUCK YEAH

-i think all interpretations of donella are fun, she’s not real so ppl can imagine her in any way they’d like. however my interpretation of her is that shes. kind of awful. she’s cold and distant and imagine she likely had a rough upbringing but she’s the type to think it made her stronger SOOOO she subjects hugo to the same things she went through to try to make him stronger. perpetuating the cycle type shit. i think he got his eyebrow scar from her. i think as he grows older is capable of physically overpowering her but he is so afraid of her that he would never be able to do it because she has so firmly cemented herself in his mind as someone he needs to fear and respect. i also think that donella does actually care about him but she’s so awful at showing it that it doesn’t matter. and when hugo finally is able to leave her behind she’s kind of shocked and it prompts her to try to make things right but it’s just too late there’s nothing to salvage

-building off what i just said i think donella would be very adamant about hiding weakness and pain n stuff. so when hugo gets injured on a mission he learns he has to hide it or she’ll yell at him for showing weakness. so he learns to either take care of his wounds by himself if they’re bad enough or just try to pretend they’re not there. fast forward to him meeting varian and he gets injured one day idk stabbed or something and nobody sees bc he hides it but he can’t get access to stitches or anything to clean it for a lil while so it gets infected and he gets ill and then of course varian finds out and helps him clean the wound (his hemophobia ran away for the day idk. or maybe the wound isn’t bleeding anymore so it’s fine. or he’s not looking too close) and hugo is like. pissed tf off because he hates that he needs help and hates how it makes him feel and varian is just so kind and gentle with treating his wounds and it makes him feel WEIRD and i think after that he has a bit of a moment bc being cared for after so long of not being able to show pain just kinda makes him realize how sick of this he really is

-when varian finds out how badly hugo had been treated by donella i think it would help him forgive hugo fairly fast bc varian understands how it feels to be used and manipulated by someone who has power over u. i think i’ve said it before but i think he had a real bad time in prison. why did they put him in a cell with a grown man. that was such a bad idea. i will not go too in depth abt it but i think he endured a number of types of abuse while there and i also think he would struggle to understand that it was a bad thing. he just lost all of his friends and his father he’s got nobody i think he would be so desperate for someone to care about him that it doesn’t hit him how fucked up the things he went through were until a little bit after getting out of prison. i think he ends having major issues with dissociation after prison bc of what happened to him and he’ll just kinda space out. i have soooo many feelings about this actually this is something very personal 2 me i could go on and on and on damn maybe i should write a fic. alexa play hard times by ethel cain but heed the content warnings

-hugo has major issues w food insecurity. he spent most of his life having to struggle to steal his own food bc donella couldn’t be bothered to take care of him. adjusting to a life where food is always readily available and free would be hard for him. i think it would make him angry. it’s just been this easy this whole time for all these people? why did he almost starve so many times back when he was just a kid? why did he watch the same thing happen to other kids around him? actually just in general i think hugo harbors a lot of anger and frustration towards royalty which again. makes living in the palace very tough. i think it’s at a level where he’s not even annoying and antagonistic towards most people in the castle it’s just like this quiet hatred bc it’s a wound that cuts so deep for him. he doesn’t even really wanna speak to them. doesn’t wanna be around them. i don’t think he really ever gets over this and i think the only person he ever really truly grows to trust (besides varian) is cassandra actually bc she very much understands how he feels

-varian varian varian my bpd king i think he is so talented at forming unhealthy attachments. he’s a weird little guy who spends all his time in his lab so he did not have any friends as a kid and probably got bullied tbh i mean he’s a tiny little nerd and basically for the longest time his dad was his only friend thus u have his first unhealthy attachment there which would explain him going off the deep end when quirin gets nerfed. i also think he got extremely attached to rapunzel eugene and cass as soon as they were nice to him bc again. no friends +ough the disorders. and he puts them on a pedestal. i think this also happened w andrew while he was in prison. and this habit of his makes him miserable bc he gets upset when he can’t be the center of their universe or when other people take priority over him or when he’s not getting the attention he wants but it also makes him more likely to endure being treated badly bc he can have a hard time differentiating between good and bad attention

-i think hugo is scared of becoming anything like donella and he’ll often catch himself doing things to other people that she used to do to him the cycle she perpetuated is so aggressively trying to suck him back in bc she’s literally all he ever knew. he had nobody else to look up to and all she ever taught him was how to be cruel and how to use others and hurt them when they didn’t behave the way you wanted to and it sucks bc he has seen that it WORKS. it’s awful and it’s cruel but it works. and sometimes his brain will tell him that it would be so much easier to just scare someone into doing what he wants but then he remembers that’s what donella would do to him and he just kinda. spirals because he can’t take the idea that someone who caused him so much pain is becoming a part of who is he and he can’t stop it because it’ll happen almost unconsciously sometimes