#i have decided to chill with the character descriptions

[mononijikayu]

blue — fushiguro megumi.

As you walked hand in hand through the snow, Fushiguro Megumi felt like your warmth and his blended together, refusing to part as you made your way away from the shrine. The thought of that made him feel like the winter was nothing, the biting chill rendered powerless against the steady heat of your presence. It was the kind of moment that made the world feel smaller and quieter. It was as if the universe had decided to go on a pause just for the two of you. It was as if these two hands were meant to fit because destiny said so.

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: AFAB! Reader, Safe For Work (SFW), Long Distance Romance (LDR), Aged Up Characters (Megumi and Reader are 18!), Young Love, Innocent Romance, Established Relationship, Middle School Classmates to Lovers, Teasing, Teenagers, Feelings, Fluff, First Love, Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Humor, Domesticity, Slice of Life, Light-Hearted, Confessions, Pining, Holding Hands;

WORD COUNT: 5.3k words.

NOTE: im a bit late, i'm sorry!!! i had a whole list of chores i helped my family with and i met up with some people yesterday, since i might not see them for christmas due to schedules. but i'm here. i always imagined megumi to be the sort of person who loves so wholeheartedly and so innocently. i wanted to capture that for his birthday. happy birthday, megumi!!! you will always be so loved by me <33333 i love you all too!!! thank you for reading!!! see you for yuuji's own fic on 24th <3 (asia time)

addendum: i just want you to know that the exact number of the words are 5302. chinese/cantonese numerology expresses that 53 means my life, 0 means good and 2 means joy and sometimes double joy. it reads as 'my life is good joy' and i think between them reader and megumi, that's genuinely true <333

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THE DARK BLUE SWIRLED AROUND THE SKY TENDERLY TONIGHT. Had there been more time, he would have enjoyed it more. But he knew there wasn’t. He had to get to you, immediately. He bit his lip softly against the cold winter wind.

Fushiguro Megumi tugged the bright tender scarf tighter around his neck as the frigid wind bit at his cheeks. He caught a faint whiff of the fabric, and something about the scent felt... off.

It’s a good scent, don’t get him wrong. But it wasn’t the familiar one he was used to. Had he bought a new perfume and just forgotten about it? 

He sighed to himself. He was too busy lately, going off on missions. And now a lot of his life had become footnotes, even if he didn’t want them to be. Megumi knew he had to do better.

He had to do whatever he could to make a better pace for himself. Still, thinking about that right now is impossible. He had to brush the thought aside. There were more pressing things to focus on—like how late he was. Again. 

Megumi could only hope that you weren’t waiting too long or that you had arrived late. But now he can’t help but think if you wore that thick Arc'teryx coat he’d gotten you. Or if you wore mittens or had enough hot packs on your body at this moment. Guilt started to echo into his head as easily as it was breathing. But he can’t help but feel that.

He took a moment to breathe, his breath visible in the cold air. He hated being late about absolutely anything. He likes punctuality, after all. But he especially likes it when it comes to you.

Because that meant he’d have more time with you. And more time with you means that he’d have you with him enough to sweep the thought of missing you for a little while. 

But being a sorcerer, the job description didn’t care about holidays or plans. Or even the personal, the thoughts and moments that made one happy. It just never stops. Not even when he was supposed to take you out on a date on New Year’s Eve. Megumi absolutely reviled it. If he saw a curse, he had to deal with it, no matter the time. 

And somehow, some sort of way, still, he knew you understood. You always did. You always reassured him of that no matter what. No matter how many times his responsibilities pulled him away from you, even just for five minutes.

You never stopped smiling when he finally showed up. You don’t stop having the warmest red on your cheeks when you see him. Your eyes always shone brighter than Sirius when you both stand beside one another.

Even though you weren’t a sorcerer yourself, you tried to understand his world, even the parts that didn’t make sense to you at all. It wasn’t fair to you, and he knew it. Yet, no matter how hard things got, you never gave up on him. You just didn’t want to, even when he had tried to keep you at bay. 

That was one of the things he appreciated most about you. Megumi had never had quite a lot of joy in his life, but he was to be honest, you were one of them. You always will be. And even now, you stand by him, even if it’s hard.

You didn’t care for the hard stuff, you always said it was part of it. Because what mattered to you, was having him in your life. And he was certain he felt the same way about you.

Well, it’s obvious.

Why else would he start running in this cold winter weather?

If it’s you, the person he loved most, then he’ll find a way?

After all, he wanted to be with you for as long as possible.

He paused for a moment, staring at the message. The small emoji made something in his chest tighten, as much as it made his body feel the warmest it had ever been. Despite everything, you still cared enough to wait for him, to worry about him. A small, rare smile tugged at his lips.

The faint vibration of his phone snapped him out of his thoughts. He fished it out of his pocket, his cold fingers fumbling slightly as he unlocked it. A text from you lit up his screen:

“Megu, baby, where are you? 🥺”

Megumi stared at his phone after hitting send, watching the little delivered mark appear. Megumi has thought about how many times he’d sent similar texts, always apologizing to you, for more often than he hoped, about being late.

He typed back quickly, his fingers stiff from the cold.

"On my way, babe. Sorry for being late."

Yet, you never seemed to hold it against him. He wished you had. Most romantic partners would be so fed up with such a position. 

Hell, most of them would have already left their partners. But not you. You never had thought of it, not even during middle school, when Gojo started to take him on his missions to observe. You were steadfast, because you saw his efforts. You saw how much he loved you. 

And that was enough. He never had to doubt that you loved him. And perhaps, that’s why he kept running. He wanted to get to you, as soon as possible. He wanted to see you. He wanted to hold you in his arms. He wanted to love you.

As he slipped his phone back into his pocket, Fushiguro Megumi picked up his pace. He had to. He had to arrive as soon as possible. For once, he hoped the world could hold its chaos at bay. Just for tonight. He owed you that much. He owed you all of the world. And he had to make it possible, even if just for a little while.

His phone buzzed again almost immediately.

“Okay, but you better hurry, baby! It’s cold! Also… why does your scarf smell like my perfume? 🤔”

Megumi stopped in his tracks, his brain processing your words at a glacial pace. Your perfume? His hand instinctively went to the scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. That was the weird smell he’d noticed earlier—the soft, floral notes he’d never associated with his usual scarf. His mind raced. If this was your perfume, then this wasn’t his scarf.

It’s your scarf. The realization hit him like a curse to the chest. Now, his heart was thumping hard on his chest. You must’ve grabbed his scarf  by mistake in a rush the last time you visited him and you forgot about it.

And now that left him with your scarf. And he hadn’t noticed at all. His face heated to warm scarlet instantly, the cold air doing nothing to cool it. Ah, this is…..

His grip on the phone tightened as he read your words. Cute. It was hard enough to deal with how much warmth you give him with your scarf, but the thought of you being so tender with him, loving to the point that he can’t take it.

Before he could come up with a reply, another message came through:

“Wait, Megu!… Are you wearing my scarf? 🥺 That’s so cute! Wah!”

He doesn’t know what to do. Everything about his love for you just grows deeper and he can’t help it. His face burned hotter, and he was suddenly hyper-aware of the soft fabric around his neck.

He hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard, before typing back:

"I didn’t realize until now. I must’ve grabbed it by accident. Sorry."

Fushiguro Megumi felt like the temperature had risen ten degrees despite the snow swirling around him. He tried to clear his throat, trying to wick away the scarlet blush spreading across his cheeks. But it was no use. He was never going to win against you. Never. 

Your reply came almost instantly, as though you’d been waiting for it.

“Don’t apologize! I think it’s adorable. It’s like you’re carrying a little piece of me with you 🥰.”

"It’s not a big deal." he typed, trying to sound indifferent, but his fingers betrayed him as he hesitated before adding: "It does smell nice, though."

His phone buzzed almost immediately. “You’re so sweet, Megu! You better hurry so I can see you all bundled up in my scarf. I want to take a picture and enjoy the cuteness of my baby!🫶 ”

Fushiguro Megumi let out a soft groan, burying his face in the scarf—your scarf. He takes in the soft smell of your scent, while feeling your words take over him. He could feel the heat radiating from his face as he resumed walking, this time a bit faster. 

He can’t run in this case, not when he’s overwhelmed by this, by you. You’ve ruined him for any other romance. This was it for him. You were it for him. And yet still, he couldn’t believe he was blushing over a scarf. Over you.

But that’s how it is. It didn’t need explanation, it didn’t need logic. That’s how it is to love you. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. Not ever. But still, as much as possible, he still wanted to play it cool.

There was a wonderfully warm feeling in his chest that he couldn’t ignore, not when it’s caused by you. Even if it was accidental, wearing your scarf made him feel closer to you, like he was carrying a part of you with him.

"I’ll be there soon, babe." he texted back simply, though his heart was racing as he hit send.

“I look forward to it! 🫶”

“I'll see you soon.”

“Love you, Megu~”

".....love you too."

══════════════════

IT WASN’T THAT LONG NOW WHEN HE MADE THE SHARP TURN TO AND ARRIVED. The faint glow of the shrine came into view, and quite expectedly, Fushiguro Megumi’s pace quickened even more now despite the biting cold.

His own breath puffed in little warm clouds as he rounded the last corner, and there you were, just like always, waiting for him by the warm illumination of the bright red shrine gates.

You seemed to be humming to yourself as you waited for him, all  bundled up in the white winter coat he gave you and those bright purple gloves trimmed with faux fur you so dearly loved. You hadn’t noticed him yet when he stopped.

But when you did, your eyes widened almost so excitedly. There was a slightly excited bounce in your step as you waved at him enthusiastically, your beautiful face lighting up like the warm spring flowers blossoming when you started to register his presence. Megumi could feel his chest tightened at the sight. 

The stress of trying to get here on time, the hardship of not meeting, the times he missed you — every bit of that started to fade away into nothing. He was here with you. You were here. And nothing can take that away from him, from the two of you. Because he knew it too well. He was home. 

“Megu!” you called out, your tender voice cutting through the quiet winter air.

He slowed as he approached, his usual calm demeanor taking over, but the pink sunrise on his cheeks hadn’t faded. Megumi tried to casually stuff his rather cold hands into his coat’s pockets, pretending the cold was the only reason his face felt warm.

“You’re late, Megu!” you teased, though your tone was playful, and that familiar smile spread across your face.

“Sorry.” he said quietly, stopping just a few feet away. “There was a—”

“A curse?” you finished for him, watching him blink. You grinned. “I figured. You always come anyway.”

He nodded, his gaze flickering to the shrine gates. “I told you to wait here for a reason. It’s safer.”

“I know, I know.” you said, rolling your eyes with a laugh. “I always know that I’m always safe, thanks to you. But I’m also freezing, so I hope you don’t plan to keep me standing here much longer! Let’s eat dinner!”

Your grin widened as your bright doe eyes flicked to the scarf around his neck. “Especially since it looks like you’re nice and warm in my scarf.”

Megumi’s hand immediately went to the fabric, his ears turning red. “I told you, it was an accident.” he muttered, avoiding your gaze.

“And I told you, it’s cute.” you said, stepping closer. 

“You’re wearing my scarf too.” He mutters under the cold winter air. 

You looked down slightly, your cheeks flushing red as you smiled. “Hm! And I love it! It suits me, having a part of you with me always when I’m cold, don’t you think?”

Megumi was taken aback by what you said for a moment. His cheeks turned even redder, even though he wasn’t sure how it was possible. He hums softly, lowering his gaze shyly. “.....It does.”

The soft crunch of snow under your boots was the only sound as you closed the distance between you. You smiled at him as you stopped in front of him. You reached up, on tip toes and gently adjusted your scarf around his neck, your fingers brushing against his skin for just a moment. 

“It suits you, don’t you think?” Your soft voice blossomed against the wind. Your gaze met his, as he raised his face. “Being so loved by me in winter cold too.”

He froze, his heart skipping a beat at the gesture. “You’re—you really are…..” he mumbled, though his voice was quieter, almost fond. “How can you say that so easily?”

“And you’re blushing, lover boy!” you teased, stepping back with a playful laugh. “You also said something like that too!”

“Am not.” he replied quickly, though the redness in his cheeks betrayed him.

“Whatever you say, my precious Megu~” 

You reached out and took his hand, your gloved fingers curling around his as you tugged him toward the shrine gates. You wanted to keep his hand warm from the cold too. He forgot his gloves, after all. And he knew that, his gaze turning to your tender touch on his, even though the leather.

“Come on, let’s get going before we both turn into icicles.”

For a moment, Fushiguro Megumi hesitated, looking down at your hand wrapped tightly on his own. Years together still hasn’t stopped him from being so awestruck by your touch on his.

To hold someone’s hand, it made him feel like he understood what love was like. Ever since that day he met you. You made him understand, with just a touch of your hand. And still, he continues to learn love, because of you. 

Megumi shook his head then he let out a soft sigh, his lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile as he followed you.Even if he’d never admit it aloud, your warmth, your wonder, your very existence, it made him whole.

And if this was a dream, he wishes he never wakes up. Because nothing of him would exist without you. He refuses to do so.

“Hm, let’s go.”

As you walked hand in hand through the snow, Fushiguro Megumi felt like your warmth and his blended together, refusing to part as you made your way away from the shrine. The thought of that made him feel like the winter was nothing, the biting chill rendered powerless against the steady heat of your presence.

It was the kind of moment that made the world feel smaller and quieter.

It was as if the universe had decided to go on a pause just for the two of you.

It was as if these two hands were meant to fit because destiny said so.

This, he thought, was more than enough to ground you both in the stillness of the winter night. The two of you ceased to talk for a while, your breaths forming soft clouds in the frosty air.

Neither of you felt the need to fill the silence. The quiet companionship you shared was enough, an unspoken understanding that words could never quite capture.

It was always like this with you. There was a gentle kind of closeness that didn’t demand anything more than your presence. It wasn’t loud or extravagant, but it was steady.

That was more than enough for him, to keep him grounded in a way nothing else could. Megumi didn’t have to explain himself, didn’t have to rush to fill the gaps, because you already understood. It was just like that between the two of you.

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, noting the way the soft glow of the blue moonlight reflected off your hair and the peaceful expression on your face. A rare warmth bloomed in his chest, spreading slowly but surely, chasing away whatever lingering shadows had tried to follow him here.

Megumi’s grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, his way of acknowledging what he couldn’t yet say aloud. This, he thought, was the kind of peace he didn’t know he needed. And for tonight, that was more than enough.

When you both arrived at the train station, the warmth of the moment lingered despite the cold metal benches and the faint whistle of the wind echoing through the platform. The faint hum of distant activity surrounded you, but it all felt muted, like the world had softened its edges just for the two of you.

You both sat down to wait for the train, your hands finally parting as you settled beside each other. Fushiguro Megumi shifted slightly, resting his elbows on his knees and looking out at the empty tracks.

The silence between you was comfortable, but you broke it, your voice cutting through the cold like the first hint of sunlight after a long night.

You looked up at him with a soft smile. “Happy birthday, Megu.”

He froze for a moment, blinking as if he hadn’t quite heard you. Slowly, he turned his head to meet your gaze, his brows furrowing slightly. “What?”

You giggled, the sound warm and light as you looked at his astonished face. “Happy birthday, I said.” you repeated, your smile widening.

His expression softened as realization washed over him. He let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. He shook his head, as you looked at his most adorable expressions, reserved only for you.

“I forgot, babe.” he admitted quietly, glancing away.

“I know, baby.” you said, your tone teasing but gentle. “You always forget. That’s why I’m here to remind you.”

He didn’t respond right away, his eyes fixed on the tracks ahead. But the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips, barely there but unmistakable. He turns his blue–green eyes to you, as though you were the most wondrous thing he’d ever set his blue–green eyes on.

 “Thanks, babe.” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached into your pocket, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped package. You always were better at wrapping presents. You had the best hands in the world, warmest to touch and the most delicate with care. And perhaps that is what made him freeze for a moment. 

“And because I know you’d never ask for anything, I got you this.”

He looked at the gift, his eyes widening slightly. “You didn’t have to—”

“But I wanted to, baby.” you interrupted, holding it out to him. “It’s your birthday, Megu. You deserve to feel special, even if it’s just a little.”

He hesitated before taking the gift from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. He stared at it for a few seconds, his expression unreadable, before carefully peeling back the wrapping paper.

Inside was a small, leather keychain engraved with his initials on it. Attached to it was a simple charm shaped like a wolf, a perfect reflection of his shikigami. Megumi stared at it for a moment, his fingers brushing over the smooth leather and the delicate charm. It was clear you’d put thought into this, making sure every detail would suit him.

Everything about it was just to his liking. You always knew it better than him sometimes too. Its design is sleek and understated, free from unnecessary embellishments, yet carrying so much meaning.

It was practical, simple, and deeply personal, just like him. And yet, the simplicity is what made it even more special, just like he knew he was to you.

“You… put a lot of thought into this, babe.” he said softly, his voice tinged with something unspoken, something he wasn’t entirely sure how to express.

You smiled, a faint flush rising to your cheeks. “Of course I did. I wanted it to be something you’d actually use. And… well…. I thought the wolf was a nice touch.”

“It is.” he murmured, his eyes lingering on the charm. 

His shikigami were a part of him, a symbol of his strength and the weight he carried in his cursed technique. But they were something he loved too. Especially his wolves. And now, here it was, captured in this small but significant token by you. Now it meant even more. Because you gave it to him. Now, it was something he could keep with him no matter where he went.

“Do you like it?” you asked, almost shyly.

Megumi looked up at you, and though his expression remained its usual calm, there was a softness in his gaze that made your heart flutter. “I do, babe.” he said simply, but the quiet sincerity in your boyfriend’s voice spoke volumes. “Thank you.”

“I thought it could keep you company, when you’re away.” you said softly, watching him closely. “You’re always busy helping people and running around. You keep doing so much for everyone else. I wanted to give you something you could keep with you, something to remind you…”

He glanced up at you, his blue–green eyes meeting yours. “Remind me of what?”

“That you’re never really alone.” you said simply, your voice filled with quiet sincerity. “That I’m always there for you, Megu.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his fingers tightening slightly around the keychain. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. And for a moment, those rare smiles, the smiles he could only show you. You, his most precious person. That smile had trailed on his lips for a moment.

“Thank you, babe.” he said, his voice steady but laced with something deeper—gratitude, maybe, or something even more profound that he didn’t quite know how to put into words. “I’ll treasure this well, I promise.”

You smiled, leaning back against the bench as the distant sound of the approaching train reached your ears. “Happy birthday, Megu.” you said again, your tone warm and light, your words laced with genuine affection. And then, as naturally as breathing, you added, “I love you.”

The words were simple but carried a weight that made Fushiguro Megumi’s heart stutter. He froze for a moment, wide-eyed, his usual composure shattered like glass under the heat of your confession. He’d always heard you say it over and over again. And yet…..it always made him feel like he was going to drown in your wonders.

He couldn’t help but feel himself combust with your words, the warmth spreading from his chest to his ears, and then outward until he was sure he’d melt into this cold blue winter night. Before he could even begin to stammer out a response, you squeezed his hand, your smile never fading. 

“Our train’s here! We gotta go!”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked, glancing at the train now pulling into the station. You tugged him forward, your fingers laced with his, as if the moment hadn’t just turned his world upside down.

Megumi let out a soft sigh, a mix of exasperation and fondness, as he let you guide him toward the train. His blue–green eyes drifted to the keychain in his hand, its wolf charm catching the dim station light, and then to the scarf around his neck. 

The warmth of your scarf, still carrying your faint, comforting scent. For someone who often felt like the weight of the world rested squarely on his shoulders, tonight felt light. For tonight, everything just felt like a gift. The greatest gift in the world.

The train doors slid open with a gentle hiss, and you both stepped inside, settling into a pair of seats by the window. As the train began to move, Megumi finally found the courage to speak, his voice quieter than usual.

“You’re ridiculous, you know?” he muttered, though there was no bite in his tone.

You tilted your head, looking at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

His cheeks flushed again, and he turned his gaze to the window, watching the snow-covered scenery blur past. “You can’t just… say things like that so casually and just….watch me combust.”

“Oh, you mean when I said I love you?” you replied with a grin, clearly enjoying his reaction.

Megumi groaned, pressing a hand to his temple. “Yes. That.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head on his shoulder. “But it’s true, Megu!” you said, your voice softer now. “I do love you, truly! And I don’t see why I shouldn’t tell you over and over again.”

He was silent for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as your words settled over him like the softest blanket. Finally, he glanced down at you, his blue–green gaze steady despite the pink still dusting his cheeks.

“…I know.” he said quietly, his voice barely audible. 

And though he didn’t say it back to you, overwhelmed by the wonders of those words on his soul, you knew that look in his eyes. That look of love, that wonder in the blue–green that said those words without leaving his lips.

It was all in his eyes that said everything you needed to hear. He struggles. But he hopes one day, he could say it to you without the struggle. 

You smiled to yourself, your gloves gone. You let your warm fingers still intertwine with his as the train rocked gently beneath you. He squeezed it even more and that had made you smile even more as you looked at him.

You hummed and leaned your head against his shoulder. His breath hitches before a moment later, his head resting on your own. You giggled at that. 

Tonight was perfect, you thought. Just the two of you, wrapped in warmth, as the world outside continued its quiet, snowy journey. And all you could see was the tenderness of all those shades of blue. That’s what it felt like when you were with him.

Everything was worth it. The cold was worth it. And so was the parting and the waiting. As long as you get to be with him and have this feeling of blue. As long as you could see those blues in his eyes.

Everything was worth it. Everything was worth experiencing. And you knew from the depths of his heart that he felt the same way too. Blue was the wonder of being with you. And he loves it too. 

══════════════════

epilogue

Later that night when you reached your house, the warmth of the entryway light spilling into the snowy night, you turned to Megumi with a thoughtful smile. He noticed the way your bright eyes sparkled.

It was a sign you were about to say something that might throw him off. He was familiar with that look since you were in middle school. But every time, he finds himself learning the depths of that mischief in your eyes. 

“So…” you began, glancing up at him with a hint of mischief. “Do you want to stay over tonight?”

Fushiguro Megumi nearly tripped over his own feet. His handsome face turned a shade of red that rivaled the setting sun, and he froze in place, his free hand holding your bag for you. You can see easily that he was clutching it nervously.

“W-What?” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly. “Why—what—why would you even—?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, watching him flounder. “It’s late, Megu!” you said, your tone as calm and reasonable as ever. “The buses aren’t running anymore, and so are the trains, you know! I’d feel bad making you walk all the way back to the dorms in this cold.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you held up a hand, cutting him off before he could get a word in. You already knew that you had a card up your sleeve. You grinned at him and giggled, taking out your phone from your coat pocket and showing it to him.

“And before you say anything about it being improper or whatever.” you added with a knowing grin, “I already asked Gojo–san if it was okay.”

Megumi’s face somehow turned even redder, and his hand shot to his temple like he was trying to ward off a headache. He looked at your phone for a moment.“You asked Gojo?”

You nodded, looking far too pleased with yourself. “Yup! He said, and I quote, ‘As long as you don’t let Megumi brood in a corner all night, I’m fine with it! Take care of my precious son, daughter in law!’”

Fushiguro Megumi groaned, running a hand down his face. What did Gojo mean precious son? And what did Gojo mean about daughter in law? That was just….

Megumi didn’t know what to do anymore. He can’t even believe Gojo gave his number to you. He couldn’t help but feel his face echo a look of a son embarrassed by his overbearing father. 

“Why would you even tell him that? Now he’s never going to let me live this down.”

You laughed, tugging gently on his hand to lead him inside. “Oh, come on. He didn’t care at all. Besides I had to, he’s your guardian! He said he’d rather you stayed somewhere warm and safe than out in the cold. Besides, it’s not like we haven’t hung out late before. We’d have sleep overs before too.”

“That’s different.” he muttered, still flustered as you closed the door behind him.

“How is it different?” you teased, tilting your head at him.

He hesitated, glancing at you and then away, his ears burning. “It just… is. I just…..”

You rolled your bright doe eyes playfully and reached up to unwrap your scarf—now his own scarf—from around his neck. “Relax, Megu. It’s not a big deal. You can have the couch if it makes you feel better. Or the guest room. I don’t think my mom will mind when she comes back! She loves you too!”

He sighed, letting you take the scarf off but avoiding your gaze. “Fine, fine.” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I’ll….I’ll sleep here tonight.”

You grinned, your victory clear. “Come on, I think I still have some of your old clothes I took from you. I’m sure they still fit you.”

“You never returned that hoodie I used to like.”

You raised a teasing brow at him. “Do you want it back?”

“No.” He says back to you, and looks at his own scarf on your neck too. “You can keep the scarf too.”

“Good. Now come on, I’ll make some hot chocolate. Consider it a bonus birthday gift.”

As you walked toward the kitchen, Fushiguro Megumi stood there for a moment as he watched you start humming, looking for the cocoa. He let out a quiet sigh, the corner of his mouth twitching upward despite himself. 

He was definitely going to hear about this from Gojo Satoru later, but for now, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was with you. And that was more than enough for him to not care about the world outside. 

[tetzoro]

☽◯☾ - SMOKIN' ACES

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : The ASL brothers know how to throw a good party and tonight was no different.

꒰ content ꒱ : MDNI. portgas d. ace x f!reader ; dubcon as they are high, descriptive weed use, shotgunning, surprise voyeur alert (someone might be listening...), unprotected sex, dry humping, use of pet names (baby, good girl), impact play if you squint — WC : 3.4k

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ Full Moon ! ꒱ — Kinktober Masterlist

The basement was a cozy little spot that only the members of the house and certain special guests could be privy to. During the notorious parties, it was a safe haven, a place of refuge- Somewhere to get some air, get away from the noise, and regroup with the people who meant most to you.

It was full of little touches from over the years. A series of disjointed chairs and faded couches all in a circle with a busted coffee table in the center that either had a bong or hookah on it, ready for community use. 

Always playing chill music, full of wondrous paintings and vibrant murals that various friends have done — it was the clubhouse of all clubhouses and all run by the ASL boys themselves; Ace, Sabo, and Luffy.

The first member, the self-proclaimed founding member, is currently sitting next to you with a triumphant smile on his face, grinding up some weed. After the exhausting day at the beach, everyone has decided to go out to the bar instead of staying in for the night.

A part of you had wanted to go with them and maybe do a couple of shots and make out with someone for a little while. A night where your head was as fizzy as a champagne bottle and maybe you could get your mind off of a certain someone.

But then Ace had given you the look.

That look with those big brown puppy eyes of his that never failed to have you cater to his every whim — annoyingly so. 

So you find yourself here, in the still smoke-filled air basement that was full of character from a group of the rowdy young adults you’ve come to know so well next to the man you’ve been pining over since the day you met him.

“I can't believe you dressed up like the dude from Magic Mike.” You flick his cowboy hat up, knocking it back and giving it a slightly disheveled look.

“Not just any dude, I'm dressed as Dallas.” Ace shakes his head, focused on rolling another joint in his favorite strawberry-printed rolling paper for the two of you to share. The one you had earlier burned out with the group and Ace had promised you another if you agreed to stay behind with him

“You just wanted an excuse to be shirtless.” Not that you were really complaining.

“First of all, I'm not shirtless.” Ace patted the unbuttoned vest that loosely hung over his taut frame. “Second of all, I did it for the hat that you so rudely hurt.”

“My apologies then.” The sarcasm drips from your tone and Ace casts you a sidelong glance, sticking his tongue out at you before using it to lick the joint.

“At least I was creative.” He says, his dark eyes trailing along your body. Even though he’s clearly appraising the outfit and not you, a chill runs down your spine. “Weren’t you a cat last year too?”

“Shut up, you know that Luffy ruined the angel wings I was going to wear.” Ace hands you the joint in surrender, motioning for you to go first as he fishes the lighter out from between the couch cushions. 

You put it in your mouth, lips wrapping around the filter as the sparks fly. It illuminates the small space in front of you and casts a soft glow over Ace's freckled face. 

Suddenly, he felt a little too close. You take in the way he carefully lights it for you, his tongue peeking out as he focuses on the task at hand. As soon as the flame catches the paper, his eyes flicker up to yours.

You inhale, begrudgingly taking in some of the smoke of the wrap before it cherries at the end, an influx of weed hitting your lungs harsher than you intended.

“Easy now.” Ace tries to stifle his laugh as you cough a little, your head still reeling from the close proximity. He takes the joint from your fingers, gently brushing his against yours before taking a hit himself.

Ever the show-off, the smoke barely leaves his lips before he begins to inhale it through his nose. He smirks at you as he does it, effortlessly inhaling the thick flume of smoke.

“You’re so lame for gatekeeping that trick by the way.” You huff at the man across from you, taking the joint back from him to continue your sesh. 

“I gotta have something to impress you, right?” Ace leans back on the couch a little more, eyes growing hazy and red as he watches you. His tattooed arm dangles off the back of the couch while you try not to take what he says to heart. But he looks back at you, head tilting a little so he peeks at you from under his hat. “But I suppose I can teach you something else.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?” Taking another hit, you let the smoke rush through your lungs and let it saturate every bit while it screams in protest the longer you hold onto it. Ace shifts ahead, leaning in so he’s closer to you and spreading his legs so his thigh brushes against yours. 

“You really wanna know?” His warm breath caresses your ear as he speaks, his nose barely nudging the lobe. The sudden seductive shift in his voice throws you off your axis and plummets you into his gravitational pull.

“Yes.” The approval slips out of your mouth with the rest of the smoke. 

Ace moves his face so it's in front of yours, his eyes scanning your features as he takes a hit. You’re not even sure when he grabbed the joint but you don’t question it. not when his fingers cup your jaw so sweetly.

“What’re you—“ The question dies out as he shakes his head. Everything feels tingly but the way he’s cusping your face makes it ten times worse, setting your skin on fire as your face heats up.

Carefully, he tilts your head toward him before he leans in. Your breath hitches as his lips brush against yours, his fingers pulling on your jaw so your mouth opens a little more.

With a direct softness you’ve never gotten from him, he blows the smoke out from his mouth and into yours. The weed coats your taste buds before his tongue slips into your mouth to steal it all away. His eagerness rivals the hit in a silent contest of who can take your breath away more.

Ace's hand doesn’t move from your face and he uses it to his advantage to kiss you further. If you thought your mind was fuzzy before, it was absolute static now as your twirls swirl together.

He grins against your lips, humming approvingly as you begin to kiss him back. But it was over far too soon and it takes everything in you not to chase his fleeting lips.

“So?” He smirks and pulls away from you, taking another hit as you try to catch your breath.

“What the hell was that?” Your thigh was still pressing against his but you couldn’t find it in you to move. Part of you longed to push further, to lean into him and melt into his searing touch. But your mind was still trying to play catch up from what just happened.

“Shotgunning.” He blows the smoke out straight into the air and your heart pangs with a strange jealousy. “Did you like it?”

“Yes.” You bite your lip. Maybe a little too much. You pause, tasting the words on your tongue before you utter them. “I wanna try it again.”

Ace sucks in his breath, the smoke plummeting to his lungs as he takes in your wish. Coughing slightly, he sits up straighter on the couch and tries to gather himself.

“Yeah?” The gravely rasp in his voice swirls with the underlying desire and draws you in further. 

There’s no going back now.

“Yeah,” You nod slowly. Neither of you bat an eye as you slide into his lap, accidentally rolling your hips against his lap as you do. Ace lets out a choked groan of your name, shifting underneath you. “Ready?”

Galaxies bloom in his eyes as they light up, eagerly tilting his head up in anticipation. The joint sits on your lips before you take the hit, watching him under you as he looks up at you from beneath his dark lashes. Desire pools in your abdomen and before you can think about what you want, your lips meet once again.

It’s a blur between tongues as the smoke fizzles out. You’re not even sure if you did it right, but then again, it wasn’t really your main objective.

The joint disappears from your fingers and you can feel Ace shift to ash it out on the side table. Unburdened, his arms wrap around you and his hands splay across your back, pulling you closer to him and deepening the kiss.

Your lungs beg for reprieve but the taste of Ace’s sweet tongue is too addicting to let up. But he shows mercy and pulls away, suffering from the same affliction. 

Everything felt fuzzy around the edges, your brain fully saturated in something syrupy sweet that had your hips involuntarily moving again as soon as your foreheads pressed together.

The faint aroma of sea salt still wove itself in the tangled curls of Ace’s hair, filling your senses despite all the smoke that currently clung to the thick air. 

“Ace.” You gasp softly, the faint outline of his hardening cock coming to life right between your thighs. 

“Yeah? You feel that?” To further his point, he pushes his hips up against your overheating core. “Feel what you do to me?”

“Yes.” With every slow grind of your hips, you can feel him growing harder beneath you. The friction was rolling over your body like a wave hitting the shore, but it was fleeting. “I want more.”

“Can you handle more?” The smirk that dangles off his face has you wanting to roll your eyes but you relent. The craving for him was too much, threatening to boil over and fully consume you.

“I can.” You nod, lips hovering over his. “I want to try.”

Ace closes the distance, unable to curb his own carnal urges that run rampant in his body. The way your lips mesh together, tasting like weed and strawberry-flavored chapstick becomes something he knows he’ll get addicted to. 

Your fingers dance along his chest, teasing under the vest before landing on the buckle of his belt. All the while he reaches up your skirt, tugging on your panties and dragging them down your legs.

The rest is a blur of motion, but the messy way his lips move with yours is vivid. It’s almost jarring how much you can taste him, how much his grunts of approval seep into your skin and run through your veins

You pull back at an absolute loss for breath, panting against his mouth as his tongue pokes out to trace your parted lips. The bottom half of your clothes are gone and his are haphazardly halfway down his thigh. 

Ace's hand grips the base of his cock as you hover over it, pumping it and squeezing his tip as it leaks with pearly drops of precum. 

“You're gonna be a good girl and take it all for me?” His knuckles brush along your soaked slit, running along it back and forth, absolutely mesmerized as he waits for your answer.

“Yes, I'll be good.” The words are nothing more than a breath of air, your lungs squeezing in protest. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” His tip prods your entrance, both of you throbbing as the last thread of self-control burns like a stick of dynamite. The slow, sparkling crawl of anticipation before everything explodes, lighting each other aflame in a whirlwind of desire. “You turn into such a little slut when you’re high, don’t you?”

“Ace.” You whine, watching the slow spread of his signature boyish grin take up his face. Warm palms rest on your hips, fingers gripping into your skin as he soaks up the absolute need in your voice. 

“What?” He chuckles lowly, his voice still raspy from the smoke. “All I'm saying is that — ohh shit…“

The rest of his sentence melts into a groan as you slowly lower yourself onto his cock.

“That’s it.” He groaned, his palms sliding to rest on your thighs to help guide you. It takes everything in him not to push you all the way down, letting you take your time as you adjust during your descent.

Everything stands still as he finally bottoms out, filling you up and stretching you out in ways no one has ever done before. The pressure is insurmountable yet it brings you a wave of pleasure that has your body singing for more.

“Holy fuck, you feel like heaven.” Ace practically moans at the way your silky walls clamp around him. His fingers move once again to grip your hips in a bruising hold, stilling himself from spilling into you immediately.

“Of course, you talk a lot during sex.” You let out a scoffed chuckle, clutching onto his shoulders as you spread your legs a little more and letting him sink in even deeper. 

“Aw, complaining already?” He gives you a lazy grin, slowly grinding his hips up against you. The steady throb of his cock melts your brain more than the weed did, the residual high becoming overshadowed by the man under you. “Or let me guess, you just can’t take a compliment?”

“Shut up.” You huff, rocking your hips before raising yourself back up. His cock partially slides out of you and glistens with your essence, coating it completely. Ace's eyes zero in on it, drinking in the sight before you ease back down.

“Fuck.” Ace's head hangs off the back of the couch as he gazes at you through half-lidded eyes. The hat he was wearing falls behind him, completely forgotten. His palms glide along your sides, sliding them up and down before cupping your ass and trying to speed up your movements. “Please, you gotta move faster.”

“Do I?” The gravity of the situation sets in, albeit a little delayed — blame it on the weed. But he was completely at your mercy. The pleading look in his eyes speaks volumes despite the cocky words he so rapidly fires off. You lean down, lips brushing against his ear. “Let me guess, can’t handle it?”

Ace's attention snaps back to you, almost fully alert now. The fog from earlier clears from his head as the words he uttered earlier echo from your pretty little mouth. A new challenge fires off inside of him and he was never one to back down from a fight, no matter the position. With a wicked grin, he thrusts his hips heavenward.

“Oh, I can handle it alright.” He murmurs, rubbing the plushness of your ass before giving it a subtle smack. Your body jolts and your chests crash together, almost every part of you is touching him.

The ever-steady rhythm of your heart spins on its axis, thrown off by the rapid beating that sets in syncopation and you can’t find it in you to care. Not when everything you’ve ever wanted is finally clicking into place.

Your bodies move in a euphoric sync, the ebb and flow of the melody you two orchestrate fills the room in a symphony of bliss. You were drowning into Ace’s very essence and in return, he did the same.

“Shit, baby.” Ace groans at the almost lazy pace. Each delicious drag of his cock had your eyes rolling back to your head. Anytime he twitched inside of you was like another jolt of pleasure — knowing that he was getting just as much enjoyment out of this as you was driving you faster to your end. “I've wanted this for so long.”

“What?” You’re completely breathless now. The confession takes away the last shred of oxygen and rips it out of your lungs. The languid roll of your hips doesn't stop though; your mind, heart, and body all chasing what you want in different ways. “Really?”

“God, yeah.” Ace's fingers slid under your shirt as he grabbed your bra-covered chest. “We need to take this off.”

Impressively, his pace doesn’t falter as he rocks up into you while his hand glides to your back and unhooks your bra. It only takes a few seconds for your chest to become completely bare and his head to find its home in the valley of your breasts.

His tongue trails everywhere. Your body burns under it, relief only pooling in the spot between your thighs and wherever he decides to lick away the flames. It cools you off, the words he said earlier filtering back into your mind as the smoke clears.

“I've wanted this too.” You gasp, bouncing a little quicker to prove how much you’ve needed this — him. Ace groans, teeth grazing the swell of your breast before sucking your nipple into his mouth to muffle the noise. “You feel so good, Ace.”

The candy-sweet praise has his head popping back up from where his tongue was swirling around your pert bud and looks at you, eyes trailing over your blissed-out face and the hearts that swirled in your eyes. 

“Come here.” Ace roughly grabs you by your ass, leaning further back into the couch as you tumble on him. He couldn’t hold back anymore, fucking up into you without abandon.

“A-Ace!” You gasp, trying to squirm away a little but the hold he had you in was too tight.

“Take it for me, baby. You said you would.” He moans. Both of your impending highs are heightened by the weed you inhaled only minutes ago. Pleasure rips through your body, sending it into tremors as your thighs shake. “Let go f’me.”

Your high washes over you immediately, body locking up as Ace continues to pound into you and chase his own release.

And it’s beautiful when he reaches it.

He comes with a choked moan of your name, his body tensing up and his fingers digging into your skin. His cock pulses before he completely empties himself into your greedy cunt with sporadic, shallow thrusts.

Both of you slump against each other, melting into the couch as your mind floats down from the clouds and into his warm embrace.

You pull back a little to admire his freckled face and can’t help but unleash the giggle that bubbles from your chest. It was contagious, as joy often is when you’re around him, and he can’t help but mirror you.

The two of you giggling in each other's arms under the shoddy string lights in the basement that has grown to mean so much to you — even more so now. 

The distinct squeak of the floorboard by the basement door sounds off, snapping you both back into reality.

“I thought we were the only ones here.” You sit up, hastily reaching for your clothes and throwing them on. Ace lifts his hips and slides his back on before kissing you on the top of your head and getting up. “Ace–“

“Stay here.” He turns around the corner and out of sight as he starts to go up the stairs. After a few steps in, the door opens and you straighten up. “Oh, it’s you. You little fucking perv.”

The sound of Ace’s boisterous laughter sounds off as two pairs of legs start coming back down. Every nerve is set on fire, anxiety ripping into your chest at the thought of seeing the person who had been listening in on you and Ace fucking.

But the familiar sight of blonde hair snuffs all the worries away, the dastardly pair smiling at you with devious intent.

“I had to pick up so I couldn’t make it to the bar tonight,” Sabo said with a grin, holding up the bag of weed he must’ve scored. “Must be my lucky day.” 

“Must be.” Ace scoffs, making his way back to you. He plops back down into his spot next to you, immediately mouthing at your neck before his voice curls around your ear. You don ’t break eye contact with Sabo as he stalks closer, placing the bag on the table before taking off his gloves. “What do you say, baby? Wanna let him smoke us up and show him exactly what happened down here?”

tags: @bontensh0e @autumnstuffs

[grandline-fics]

Immune To Your Charms

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.

WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so it features mentions of killing/ injury/ general violence. Soulmate! AU

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 1,649

A/N: Part of the Good For Your Soul Series. I hope you all like how this turned out as much as I did. This is my first time writing for Doflamingo so hopefully I got his personality right enough

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

Chapter One (here) | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven(coming soon)

——————

Your Marine unit’s task had been a simple one, stay hidden and observe. That was it, any criminal activity was to be recorded for physical evidence and reported immediately. No interference at all. Your superior believed that this group of lowlifes were working directly under someone else, someone bigger and they were who they wanted to take down, not a bunch of easily replaced criminals. The only way to completely rid the evil and corruption of the town was to go for the root. That had been the plan and everyone had stuck to it as they had been ordered. That was until one of the newer recruits with a thirst to prove himself decided to be reckless. 

The second there was confirmation that the criminal group had a large stockade of weapons, ammunition and barrels of explosives in the nearby warehouse the idiot acted. They believed if they destroyed such a valuable haul then it would surely draw their target out from the shadows. You and the others who were more experienced of the unit drilled it into his head that it wasn’t a wise decision. Not only could a lot go wrong with potential endangerment to civilians but it was also not part of anyone’s orders. For a moment you thought he listened but as you turned in for the night you didn’t like the look you caught in the cadet’s eyes. 

It was just as well that you couldn’t sleep because it meant you were able to catch the cadet sneaking out of your encampment. Swearing under your breath you grabbed your weapon and pulled on your shoes to hurry after him. If you could get him back to camp without any harm done he could still keep his job. That had been the plan anyway but he’d managed to make use of his head start and snuck into the warehouse before you got there. You slid to a stop outside the warehouse and felt a chill run over your spine despite it being a comfortably warm night. You'd been so focused on catching up that you hadn’t noticed that there was no-one guarding the warehouse. Even for a group of low tier criminals there would be no way they would leave such precious cargo unattended. Panicked you looked towards the warehouse as the faint sound of a match being struck sounded.

In a blink the explosion boomed through the air, your body being thrown back and crashing loudly and painfully through the stacks of crates behind you. Ears ringing and vision swimming you hit the ground and tumbled until the momentum died off leaving you flat on your back and blinking through the pain and choking on the smoke and ash hanging heavily in the air. You managed to roll onto your side and shakily braced your hands onto the cold ground to push yourself up. You winced and gasped sharply at the feeling of your ribs grinding painfully, protesting any movement. Something was either cracked or broken and only now did you feel the wetness of blood against your head spreading against your cheek. 

For a moment you foolishly dared to think it could have been worse but then as you sensed people approach you knew better than to tempt fate. Of course those that had set the trap would make themselves known. One by one your sight took in the figures of those you’d been observing but then sauntering behind at a relaxed pace and amused, wild grin shaping his face was the Warlord Doflamingo. The bright flames burning what remained of the warehouse glinting against his silhouette only made him appear more menacing. In that moment you knew there was no getting out of this alive. The warehouse of weapons was his operation, if he let you live to report to your superiors it could be enough to revoke his protected status as Warlord and that wasn’t an option. 

You knew that nothing could be done. You were outmatched by him and seeing two new individuals lingering behind him told you he had more subordinates lurking. If he'd had enough time to rig the warehouse to explode then chances were he already knew about the rest of your unit too. If he didn’t know then you weren't going to be the one to give them up. Remaining on the ground you reached for your gun, glaring at Doflamingo when his laughter began to fill the space between you. His steps remained leisurely as he continued to advance towards you. Her was the grinning cat and you were the wounded bird, he could take his time and he certainly wasn’t afraid of your silly little pistol. However his smile twitched when you turned the barrel towards your own chest, not his. Now that was curious but boring. 

For the first time that night he put effort into his movements and closed the distance, his large hand closing over yours and disarming you with a simple tug. Frustrated at not even being allowed to go on your terms you glared furiously at the man in front of you. The adrenaline was wearing off and the pain was getting stronger. “I’m not going to tell you anything. Just kill me and be done with it.”

“Oh I don’t need you to tell me anything.” Doflamingo chuckled, playfully spinning the gun on his finger with one hand while this others flexed to let you see the faint glimmer of his strings. “I do need you to do something for me though. You’re going to deal with the rest of your unit and then I’ll kill you. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds awful.” You spat out at him, angered that you’d suspected right and he knew about your unit and also devastated that you couldn’t save them. You knew a small amount about Doflamingo’s abilities from talk at the Marine base but hadn’t witnessed it for yourself. It was just another sickening addition of salt on the wound that you’d be forced to kill your unit, your friends before he would be bored enough to end you with that power. “Can you at least knock me out before you control me to do it?”

Doflamingo chuckled once more, intrigued by your attitude. He'd encountered begging, desperate attempts at buying their life, defiant bluster that they’d never do as he wished, but he couldn't recall someone be so accepting of their fate but still so headstrong. For a second he considered your request but then decided no, he wanted you to be conscious for the fun. With a twitch and arch of his fingers he used his strings to make you his puppet. He rose from his crouched position in front of you and looked down in confusion to see you hadn't moved as he directed. His stretched grin lessened as he moved his hand again, a clear order for you to lift your arm into the arm but it didn’t budge. You were unaffected. 

With laboured breaths you tilted your head up to regard him silently, that fierce look never leaving your hazy, pain-filled stare. You were waiting for him to take control of your body. If he waited any longer you would pass out from your injuries. Now he was in no mood for his tormenting games. Keeping his hand by his side and hidden by the mass of pink feathers he created a new attack, one to slice your throat with enough force to take your head cleanly from your neck. 

You shivered as a sudden wisp of air sped over you and then you flinched to hear the grating of stone. Glancing back you saw the deep gouge cut into the ground behind you, a long but clean line. Unconsciously Doflamingo took a step back from you with your head turned. Something was wrong. His power wasn’t working. Just who were you? What had you done? Anger and a sudden feeling of power being tipped from him he turned sharply and sent his threads at his low ranked underlings, feeling a rush of satisfaction to see their bodies jerk in complete surrender to his Devil Fruit. Wordlessly he commanded them to advance to where the other Marines were, to kill them like you had meant to. “Wh-what are you doing?“

Doflamingo turned and watched you force the power into your heavy limbs, the force of the explosion taking their toll on you. Slowly you pushed into the ground once more to try and make yourself stand but that was the final straw for your body to handle. With a groan, you crumpled onto the ground, unconscious and completely at Doflamingo’s mercy, that was if he actually had any. As Doflamingo continued to stare at you he heard Diamante approach, his elite officer just as confused by what went wrong. “Doffy? What happened?” 

“A complication.” Doflamingo answered, trying once more to attack your defenceless form with your own pistol but the bullet whizzed by you even though his aim was perfect and struck the ground less than inch to the left of your head. He couldn’t risk someone like you being allowed to remain out in the open but deep down he couldn’t give the order to the others to kill you. He told himself that he wouldn’t do that, not until he knew exactly what your strange power was. For all he knew others out there were capable of such feats against his powers too. Until he knew the cause and how to ensure he could deal with it he wasn’t taking any chances. In the distance Doflamingo heard the sound of gunfire and yelling as his men attacked your unit. With a huff he crouched down and lifted you over his shoulder. “Come on, we're going home. Send their picture to Vergo, I want to know exactly who I’m dealing with.” 

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[mistiell]

When you're lost in the Darkness

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Summary: Astarion suspects that you're afraid of the dark. What he doesn't know, is that not only will he soon be proven right, but he severely underestimated just how severe your fear is.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, nyctophobia, brief description of panic attack, possibly ooc Astarion, literally one use of y/n

A/N: Hey hi hello, I am back from the void for now. I would like to make a disclamier: I have not yet played BG3!! So, if anyone is out of character, I apologize!

---

Astarion has a theory.

A small and rather unimportant one, but a theory nonetheless.

It started when he noticed the way you set up your bed roll when the group makes camp for the night. You’re always as close to the fire as you can be without lighting yourself aflame, and when it dims to a certain point, he’s watched you rouse out of a dead sleep to stoke the coals and add more fuel. At first, he thought perhaps you were just prone to chills – he knows some people run cold when they sleep – but after lingering after one of your shared nights together, he came to realise that you’re actually more like a mostly-human furnace.

Then he noticed the way you linger around any sort of light source like a moth to a flame after the sun has set, and the way you fidget and glance over you shoulder every few minutes on the off chance your back is to the darkness.

He finds it strange. Granted, he thinks you’re strange for a variety of other reasons, but this pattern of behaviour is particularly puzzling to him. Which has lead him to his theory;

“You’re afraid of the dark.” He jests after watching you glance into the woods for the umpteenth time, aiming for teasing and realising he’s missed when your face falls into something akin to shame and discomfort.

You try to cover it with a scoff, rolling your eyes in a way he knows is meant to feign indifference, “I have far worse things to fear than the dark.” You spit those last two words, as if they taste bitter on your tongue. Firelight dances in your eyes as you keep your gaze trained firmly on him, even despite how much you look like you want too search for whatever it is you’ve convinced yourself is out there, intent on disproving him.

“True,” He smirks with a practiced ease, suddenly – strangely – desperate to ease the tension he’s just created, “But should you ever find yourself too afraid to sleep alone,” He leans in just a smidgen closer, grinning coquettishly, “My arms are always open.”

You snort, the tension in your shoulders ebbing just so as you chuckle, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“By all means, keep me in your thoughts as long as you wish, darling.” He hums, smile just a little softer than he intends when you genuinely laugh at that, the sound sweet and airy as it bubbles up from your throat.

“And with that, I’m off to bed.” He nearly mistakes incredulousness for fondness, but catches himself as you stand. Turning back for just a moment, you give him a smile so soft, it makes is gut twist with a feeling he’s a little unsure of, “Goodnight, Astarion.”

If he’d fed more recently, he’s sure his cheeks would be flushed. He blinks, clears his throat, “Sleep well, my sweet.”

Only days later, his theory is proven correct when you stumble upon some sort of abandoned cottage – House? Astarion’s not entirely sure – and, upon Gale’s insistence that it could be useful, decide to search it for wares.

“You do know there’s likely nothing of use in here, don’t you?” Shadowheart sighs impassively as she thumbs through a tattered book, slotting it back into place where she found it once she’s deemed it useless.

Gale huffs and rolls his eyes, “Well, we won’t know until we look, will we?”

“We won’t be finding much of anything if you two don’t quit your squabbling.” You quip before turning your attention back to the chest you were searching. You just barely lean into Astarion’s space, grinning impishly. He leans in just a little closer – only to hear you better, of course – as you whisper, “They’re like children, I tell you.”

Something shatters. You both turn just as Shadowheart fixes Gale with a stern look, “Hells, Gale, pay attention to where you’re going!”

“Wh- It’s not my fault!” Astarion raises a brow at their bickering, tutting amusedly, “Children, indeed.”

Huffing a laugh, your attention slides to a door on the far side of the room and move to investigate. After trying the handle and finding it jammed, it takes a good shove to get it open. The only thing that illuminates the small pantry is the light filtering in from the door you’ve just opened.

You seem content to simply skim over the contents of the room from where you’re standing until you spot something of interest, eyes lighting up with a little gasp.

Astarion takes your place in the doorway as you rush into the room after propping the door open with a nearby pail, curious, “What have you found?”

Snatching a little tin box off a shelf, you open it and beam, “Oh, I haven’t had this in ages!”

“What?” He asks again, a little impatient.

You hold it out to him, and when he comes closer to look over the lip of the tin, he finds a fair amount of shredded, aubergine coloured leaves inside.

He looks back to you, confused, “Tea?” “Tea.” You grin, holding it up to your nose and closing your eyes to revel in the fruity scent, “I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s delicious.”

With how delighted you are over finding it, he doesn’t doubt it.

“Well, at least we can tell the others our searching wasn’t in vain.” He turns, “Settle that dispute between Gale and Shadowhear-.” The toe of his boot bumps the pail, sending it rolling as the door swings shut and swathes the room in darkness.

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, but eventually, the door comes back into view, only now the faded sage green paint is a dull grey.

Just as he moves for the door, he’s startled by the clattering of metal and a loud bump. He whips around to ask what in the hells just happened, but the words die in his throat when he finds you pressed flat against the shelves on the far wall – which really isn’t that far considering there’s only about six feet between the two of you. He can hear your heart racing from where he’s standing, your breaths quick and shallow.

That theory he had just got a lot more important.

He calls your name and you flinch, gaze flitting in his general direction but never settling on him. You look well and truly petrified. “Darling, are you alright?”

It’s a terrible question considering you are very visibly not alright, but he can’t seem to come up with anything else fast enough.

“I can’t–.” Your voice cracks and you swallow, looking dreadfully close to tears as you squeeze your eyes shut and cover your face with your hands, “I can’t see you. I can’t see anything.”

“Hang on,” After trying the handle, he finds the door is jammed no matter how hard he yanks. He considers calling for Karlach or Wyll, but thinks better of it, not wanting to frighten you further. They’ll notice the two of you are missing and come looking eventually.

“Astarion.” His name from your lips pulls him from his thoughts. He usually loves hearing you say his name, even when your cross with him. But when it comes out like a pitiful mix between whisper and whimper, he finds his heart twists uncomfortably in his chest.

He turns back to you and stalls. Unsure, helpless. He wants desperately to comfort you, but he has no idea how. He goes over the many different ways he could try, and the many different ways you could react, before finally, “Tell me what you need.”

After a moment of hesitation, you hold out a trembling hand and he steps forward to take it without a second thought. You tense when his skin first meets yours, palms wet with tears as your breath hitches. You tug him closer to wrap your arms around his middle and cling to him like a lifeline, shaking terribly as you bury your face into his neck. He secures you to him with an arm around your back and a hand cupped over the nape of your neck. He can feel your heartbeat stuttering under his fingertips when they settle over your pulse.

You’re still gasping.

“You need to breathe, lovely.” He says it gently, voice void of his usual coquettish flare. The nickname is softer than what he’s used with you so far, and it feels and sounds more earnest than it should. He tries not to dwell on it as he soothes his palm up and down the length of your spine, “Try to mimic me. I’ll guide you, alright?” You nod, and when starts coaching you through each inhale and exhale, you do your best to follow.

It takes several breaths, but eventually, they grow deeper and stop catching in your chest. Your heart slows. Not by a lot, but enough that Astarion can stop worrying that you’ll work yourself into a panic induced fainting spell.

He guides you through a few more before asking, “Better?”

You nod. With your throat dried out from crying, your voice is rather croak-y when you reply, “A little.”

“You sound like a frog.” It startles a laugh from you, the sound letting Astarion breathe a little easier.

“I do!” You sniffle, still laughing. It makes him laugh too.

“What the hells is so funny in there?” Lae’zel shouts from the other side with all her usual charm.

“Frogs!” Astarion shouts back, and you giggle a little more.

There’s a few loud bangs as one of your friends attempts to open the door. He can feel you flinch with each one until finally, it bursts open, blessed light washing over the two of you despite Karlach towering in the doorway. Your body sags with relief, and a little, involuntary sound escapes you as a new wave of tears threatens to spill, this time for an entirely different reason.

“What happened in here?” Gale asks, looking wildly confused as you slip out of Astarion’s arms and wipe at your cheeks hastily. “Oh, erm,” You clear your throat awkwardly, gaze bouncing between the items the fell when you backed into the shelf before settling on the tea leaves. You look genuinely disappointed as you gesture vaguely towards the small pile on the floor, “I found a tea I really like and got upset when I dropped it.”

“Ah. I see.” Gale nods, still obviously perplexed. If any of them find the explanation odd, they don’t say anything.

Shadowheart leans around Karlach, “We should get a move on. There are only so many hours before sundown.”

“Right. Yes, that’s a good idea.” You nod, clearly thankful for an excuse to get the hell out of there as you squeeze past them and lead them outside.

Much to Astarion’s chagrin, Karlach turns when she notices he’s hung back, “Oi, Astarion. What are you doing?”

He glances between her and the pantry before huffing, “Just... Tell them to wait a moment.”

She narrows her eyes suspiciously but agrees, leaving him to tell you and the others. He makes his way back into the pantry for a moment before jogging outside to join you.

It’s a good few hours until you make camp, and another few before he finally plucks up the courage to approach you near your tent.

You notice him striding over and smile at the sight of him, “Astarion! To what to I owe the pleasure?”

“I come bearing gifts.” He announces dramatically, hoping his puckish grin will be enough to mask how incredibly fucking nervous he truly is.

“For me?” You ask, cocking your head slightly to one side.

He rolls his eyes playfully, “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, would I?”

“Well obviously, I just meant–,” You huff and shake your head, chuckling incredulously, “Never mind. What have you got for me?”

He holds out the tin and watches surprise and confusion flash over your face in quick succession before something unbearably soft settles over your features.

Taking it from him, you’re quick to pop the lid off. You gasp when you lay eyes on the contents, eyes wide when you look back at him with such wonder, it nearly knocks the wind out of him, “How did you–?”

“I salvaged what I could off the top of the pile. I– erm,” He clears his throat, “I thought it would be wasteful to leave perfectly good tea behind when at least one of us could enjoy what’s left of it. Irresponsible, even.”

You huff a laugh. There’s no mistaking the fondness this time.

“You’re absolutely right. That would be irresponsible of us.” Your smile shifts into something heart achingly earnest as you step closer and lean up to peck his cheek, “Thank you.”

“Of course, love.” He’s aiming for coquettish but it comes out too sincere to be convincing. That feeling twists at his chest again and it’s only now that he realises what it is.

He actually, genuinely cares for you.

Rattled, he feigns a yawn and smirks, “Well, as much as I adore your company, I really must be off to bed. Beauty sleep, and all that.”

“Right!” You seem to startle yourself with your own volume and clear your throat, chuckling awkwardly, “Right, of course. Goodnight, Astarion.”

He takes a mere second to mull it over before he throws caution to the wind and cradles the side of your neck in his palm, thumb brushing the curve of your jaw as he presses his lips to the apple of your opposite cheek. Before he takes time to actually think over his new found feelings and potentially freak himself out, he’s going to let himself indulge in you just a little while longer.

Pulling back, he brushes the back of his knuckles over the skin he just kissed, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

He can hear your heart thump, thump, thumping as he walks towards his own tent. The feelings he has for you are a new and rather inconvenient development. But if later he finds that he doesn’t particularly mind?

No one has to know just yet.

[kassiekole22]

Joy Ride

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

Pairing: Brian O'Conner X Fem!Reader

Description: Brian finds you walking home late one night and offers you a ride, which turns into a night-long joy ride around Miami.

Warnings: Fluff, Speeding, Friends Or Future Lovers? (You Decide)

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Sooooo, I watched 2 Fast 2 Furious for the first time a around a month ago and this guy has been on my mind ever since. I have always really loved Paul Walker so this was bound to happen eventually. 😂 I don't know if I plan to write more for him or if this will just be a one time thing, but I have been working on this fic for quite some time now and I'm happy to finally be posting it. More to come from other beloved characters soon! Enjoy the fic and if you want more Brian O'Conner fics in the future, let me know in the comments or inbox! 🖤 (Also did any of you get the reference in the name? 👀)

Main MasterList: 🖤

Kassie's Angels: @mornandil, @lorebite.

(If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

2002

The air is pretty cool for a night in Miami, but I don't mind. I walk with my hands in the pockets of my hoodie, protecting them from the slight chill. It's nothing too intense, but I haven't been used to being in cooler temperatures for awhile now.

I walk quickly down the sidewalk as a few cars pass from time to time. The sounds of their engines make my fingers and feet tingle a little, my body missing the feeling of the steering wheel gripped in my fingers and the gas pedal under my foot.

I wrecked pretty badly during my last race, resulting in my car becoming too banged up to drive. Most street racers have other cars to fall back on. Unfortunately for me, my girl was all I had. Now I'm left to walk on foot until I can get enough money to fix her.

The ambiance in the street is pretty calm until I hear the familiar rumble of a very specific engine approaching my side. To my surprise, that iconic silver and blue Nissan Skyline pulls up, slowing down to drive at my walking speed. But the slick paint job or glowing underbody isn't what makes it difficult to look away. The driver is none other than the man who beat me in my last race, Brian O'Conner.

I'm met with a kind smile as he rolls down his windows, his bright blue eyes glancing up at me from the shadows of the interior. There is just something about that man that draws me in. I could never tell what exactly it was, but it pulled me in his direction like a bee to a flower every time I was in the same location as him.

"Ey, need a ride?" He queries in a rasied voice, nearly shouting over the Skyline's growl.

Though it's tempting, I don't want to throw a wrench in any plans he may have. Knowing him, he has another street race or date to get to at this hour. So, despite the aching pain in my feet that is screaming in protest, I respond casually, "Nah, man. I'm good. Home's not too far away anyway, y'know?"

Even though it wouldn't take him too long, it would be pretty pointless to drive only a couple blocks anyway. He takes a mere second to let my words sink in and find an answer, his eyes hopeful as they are taken off the road and landing on me once more.

"We don't gotta take you home. The night's still—" He checks his watch, and his eyes widen slightly as he realizes the time. "—Well, middle-aged, but that don't gotta stop the fun."

I can't contain a faint chuckle at his dumb joke, rolling my eyes as I do so. The next thing I know, my feet are subconsciously coming to a stop, and he gently lays on the brakes. His car is also stopping right beside where I now stand, but the engine still purrs softly to alert all of its consciousness.

"Ah, c'mon, girl. Let's live a little, eh?" He flashes me that dangerous half-smirk that beckons me forward into mischief. It now dawns on me that he might not have the intention of taking me home, which is intriguing in a way.

I contemplate my options for a moment. The only thing waiting for me at home is a couple bottles of beer and some cold pizza left in the fridge from the night prior. It seems like I've been spending most of my time alone lately. Maybe it would be good to spend some time in good company.

"Alright," I give in with a subtle but still noticeable sigh, backing down in my mental debate.

He reaches across and opens the passenger door for me as I round the car, its headlights illuminating me for a brief moment as I cross in front of the bumper before hoping into the seat offered to me. It felt weird being in the left seat and not having a steering wheel before me. I could never get used to those foreign imported cars. 

But regardless, it sure is a beauty. The leather interior smells oddly fresh and calming, with a faint hint of exhaust filtering through the open windows. It's clear he just cleaned her up. Brian was always the type to take care of his rides.

I pull the seatbelt across my chest and lock it in securely, mentally preparing myself for the wild ride I know damn well he is about to take me on. He looks at me and flashes me that cocky yet proud smile as he revvs the engine for only a moment before taking off into the night.

With windows down and speed carrying us, I feel like I'm floating on air. The soft breeze I felt only moments ago is now a fast wind in my hair, and the soft ambiance of the nightlife in Miami is now disturbed by a machine growl.

I glance over at him, and it's as if time slows for just a minute as I take in how happy he is. He's a simple man. He doesn't need the fancy things in life, just a fast car to make the corners of his lips part into that iconic grin I have grown to love.

"Wanna get fuckin' nuts?" He asks me, his voice taking me out of my thoughts and putting me back into reality. That's when I notice that mischievous look in his ocean blue eyes, their pupils blown wide with adrenaline.

Hm... Blue and full of adrenaline, like the blood pumping in our veins.

"What?" I blurt out, not fully comprehending what he is asking, until my gaze wanders down to where his thumbs hovers over the nitro buttons.

I look at the road ahead, seeing that it is completely barren of all life, and I can't help but smirk at the thought of what he is suggesting. It's a dangerous game—playing with speed in such a way—but a thrilling one, for sure.

Taking my eyes off the road ahead to look back at him, I notice the hopeful glint once again in his eyes, only pushing my thought process toward wanting to comply. So without a second breath, I cheer, "Fuck yeah!"

With a simple click of two buttons at once, we are off like a rocket in space. Suddenly, the street lights look like comets, and the lines on the road are just blurs of colors. It's oddly beautiful in a way, and I marvel at how it ignites my soul with such a unique feeling, which I can't possibly seek from anything else. My fingers dig into the sides of my seat as my heart pounds against my ribcage like thunder, both overwhelmed but thirsty for more of this intoxicating rush.

Though Brian only lets this last for a moment, just seconds passed that will remain with me for an eternity. We laugh as the car slows to a semi-normal speed again. My smile is so wide, I can feel my face begin to hurt.

But I don't care. I am just so high on the thrill that my mind is lost in a cloudy space of euphoria. It's crazy how the night went from a quiet walk home to taking a joy ride with one of my rivals, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Once our laughter dies down, the soft purr of the engine is the only thing heard yet again as we both seemingly get lost in our own thoughts. What is he thinking? I wish I knew. The only thing on my mind is how happy I am. It isn't until a couple minutes later that he speaks his mind, taking a deep breath before his lips finally form the words he has been pondering.

"We should do this more often," he suggests in that nonchalant tone he carries quite regularly for someone with such excitement in his life. "Y'know, hang out outside the racing world? You're a cool girl."

I can't repress how my smile softens for a moment at his words as my eyes flick over in his direction while a million responses filter through my mind. This guy is a legend—a local celebrity, if you will. To have this opportunity is an honor. However, I don't necessarily get the vibe of entitlement from him. Instead, his atmosphere reflects something else—something friendly and inviting.

"And you're a cool guy. I'd love to hang with you more often." I reply, trying to sound chill but coming off way more sincere than intended. Though he doesn't seem to mind, in fact, he seems to be pleased with my response.

The next thing I know, he is pulling into a public beach. Its sands are abandoned by any human life due to the lateness of time, though the footprints of the visitors that day still remain like ghosts of the past, their memories carved in the sand until they get washed away by the waves.

He locks the car in park, unhooks his seatbelt, and gets out. I watch through the windshield as he rounds the side of it to rest back on the hood. My eyes study him as he lifts himself to sit on the hood, not once looking back to see if I leave the car as well. It's almost as if he expects me to.

So to fulfill his silent expectations, I swing my door open and hop out after freeing myself from my seatbelt, nearly stumbling as the ground is unexpectedly unsteady where I stand. My feet sink into the sand, and I'm grateful I chose to wear boots tonight over anything else.

Once out of my sticky situation, I take a moment to appreciate the freshness in the air—the sweet smell of the ocean before me for just a second. After approaching him, I rest beside him on the hood, watching the waves crash before us. It reminds me that life is quite like the sea. It's unpredictable, a little scary at times, but beautiful in many unique ways. I release a soft breath, my body relaxing in this calming moment.

"I remember the first time I saw you pull up in that black Trans Am to the race. Fuckin' engine and bass on your stereo roaring over the sound of the crowd." He chuckles while he reminisces about old memories.

"Buni," I correct him as I smile fondly, thinking about the beauty that's currently under a tarp in my garage, just waiting to be repaired and set free on the road once again.

"Yeah, Buni." He parrots me in an almost teasing way. I know he finds the fact that I named my car ridiculous, but I can see it in his eyes that it amuses him all the same. "You're something else, (L/N). A damn good racer, though."

My heart flutters at the compliment, and I feel my cheeks heat up with this familiar warmth that only he ignites in me best. The soft breeze blows through my hair as I think of a reply, running through my strains like an angel's fingertips. But it's not the breeze nor the location that has me in such a calm and joyful state.

I continue to study him—the way his blonde curls blow in the breeze, the corners of his lips turning up ever so slightly to show his contentment, his biceps flexing ever so slightly as he crosses his arms over his chest. It amazes me how all the different shades of blue in his iris reflect the scene before us. It's like I could literally drown in them each time I gaze into them to admire their beauty.

"Yeah? You and your Skyline ain't so bad either." I finally quip with a small bit of sarcasm dripping from my tone after forcing myself out of where my mind has disappeared to for a short time. He smiles softly at my words, because it's evident how I really feel about him. He knows, and I know that, but I don't really care anymore.

We talk until sunrise and watch as the black sky fades into orange and pink, blending with the stars to make them barely visible. Though they are out of sight, I know they still shine brightly above us, like angels waiting for us in heaven. It's quite special—maybe even magical.

The sea reflects the morning sun as it rises from the horizon, its golden rays shining upon us as we remain on the hood of the car. It's just us out here in our own little world. If I learned anything from last night, it's not the place that makes a moment special, but the person you share it with.

I don't know where this road will take us. I know it will be a long one—with plenty of traffic and bumps ahead—but the ride will be an enjoyable one with a new friend in the seat next to me as we speed through it all. And if we happen to get separated some point along the way, I know in my heart that I'll see him again.

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐��𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

[valeskawhore]

Mama’s boy!

Series/tv: series! 1/?

Characters and paring(s): Homelander x fem!supe!Caretaker!

Word(s):1.0k!!

A/n: yall it’s finally here, please don’t shun me. I forgot I had this fucking series fr— like I am so series. And then I saw that the NEW SEASON OF THR BOYS IS COMING THE 13th!!!!! HELL YEAHHHHH!! this series will follow the original series. FIND THE IDEA HERE!

(C): I DO NOT OWN ‘THE BOYS’ AMAZON ORIGINAL SERIES/TV!!

———

———

“So.. I’d- what? Be a mother to this little sonuvabitch?” I mocked, leaning back in my chair a little. My coffee cup rested between my cold fingertips on this cold autumn day. The steam filling my nostrils, comforting but didnt make up for the fucked situation i was put in.

We had decided on a meeting in a public place per my request and somehow it had gotten approved. This was surprising yet relieving if you knew anything about Vought International.

“Yes, you’d be a caretaker technically; And whatever else that comes with the job but I suppose a ���mother’ as you put it, would be a more professional and accurate term in this situation.” He replied. “We just want to ensure our prodigies' safety and having him grow in a lab isn't the most beneficial considering he’s already ripped four or more of his female caregivers in half.” Sipping his coffee nonchalantly.

Stan Edgar.

Always a pain in the ass and who also just happened to be the CEO of said, ‘Vought international’.

Though I always knew him as just Stan and dare I even say he was an old friend of mine from Vought’s ‘Payback’ days when I worked as the second in command to Grace Mallory as we had to partake in being the case managers for the CIA.

Babysitting drugged up supes was never in the job description but as grace always told me; one joy of being a part of the CIA was learning on the job and learning we did.

That is where I first met Stan and if it wasn't for him I would have torn the head of the one and only ‘Soldier boy’ for eyeing my up and down as if I was a piece of cake for him to cut a piece of.

I coughed on some of the coffee I held in my mouth with wide eyes. I swallowed and wiped my mouth, “Pardon? Ripped? In half?” Stan nodded, his face even with even a hint of amusement.

“Are you fucking crazy? And i'm supposed to babysit this little shi-”

Stand cut me off, sensing my panic as he reached his hand on and stopped my bickering as if I was overreacting completely. “Oh please, fret not my friend. We have a plan for that.”

I cocked my eyebrow, “What kind of.. Plan?” I asked.

“I'm so glad you asked,” he smiled, taking a sip of his mocha. “Of course, there will be extra cautionary procedures considering we want you to be long term. And a whole new contract to bridge off our original but sadly, it is required if you’d like to live long enough to receive your check.”

I stayed quiet and listened intently, my fingers suddenly no linger felt frozen.

I felt warm, sick almost as a million feelings and thoughts stirred within me with all the possible circumstances.

“We plan to put you through a series of tests, experiment without the experiment part because we know what we're going yet it will still be the first.” His eyes felt cold on me, like he was brewing up something despicable.

“You’re going to be one strong supernanny– isn't that exciting?” And now I know why.

My body drew back subconsciously even. I stared at him through wilted eyelashes at his proposal. I sat my coffee down, the condensation made my palms sweaty in the autumn chill. Looking anywhere and everywhere but him.

Stan sensed my hesitance, eyes going down to my coffee and then to the show of my wiping my palms on my pants. Nervousness creeping up into my mind, he spoke.

“You don't have to do this,” he began, this time his hands reached out and enclosed mine in his warm ones. His brown eyes searching in mine, “But listen to me as i say this..” my face looked up and found his again at his sudden tone of.. Warmness?

“I would never put you in a situation where I could predict long term harm to you.” i didn't say anything at first once his words set in, i laughed at that, finding my voice finally. “Ah, but short term harm you can predict.” I noted and went to pull my hands away but his grip tightened.

“Well I never said it was going to feel like laying on a bearskin rug, Compound V will tear you apart limb from limb and then rebuild your blood cells all over again. You will become indestructible in every way possible. You will be made. To. be. Able. to. Do. this. Job, i will promise you that above everything”

“Ah, so like Bella from Twilight when she first became a vampire.” I laughed. Stan looked at me with a puzzled expression, “Pardon?”

“Nothing old timer. I wouldn't expect you to know anything of the sort.” I gave his knee a gentle slap. To my relife he dropped it and gave me a nervous laugh, “But, anyways.” He stood and pulled out his wallet to pay for our meals.

“You have by the end of the week, Just call the front desk and let them know your decision. They’ll be expecting to hear from you.” and before i could respond,

He was gone like that.

The carpark returned his vehicle and opened the door for him, Stan was gone as quick as he appeared.

I turned back to my coffee and stared into the milky abyss watching as the cream met the coffee in a caffeinated tango.

I wish coffee was on my mind at the moment. To have something so simple to think about would have been a relief in this moment but I wasn't so fortunate.

I stood up.

And all over again, the cool autumn air made me feel colder than ever.

——

A/n: WHAT ARE WE FEELING!? ooooOOooo what if Billy BUTCHER WAS INCLUDED—

[topochicoslut]

everybody wants to rule the world: prologue

fic synopsis: A young woman is sent on what is sure to be a suicide mission to spy on Ryomen Sukuna by a rival curse user who has heard rumors that the infamous King of Curses might have found the secret to true immortality

pairing: ryomen sukuna x fem!reader rating: 18+ ONLY!!!!!! MDNI!!!! IF I CATCH YOU, I'LL BLOCK YOU!!! word count: 1.1k

warnings: none for this chapter! but overall fic warnings include but are not limited to the following- slow burn, enemies to lovers, eventual smut/p0rn with plot, descriptions of violence and gore, language, horror elements, morally grey characters, me having an aneurysm while trying to properly describe cursed techniques, true form sukuna (eventually), etc etc. each chapter will have the appropriate content warnings added to them based on subject matter : )

a/n: hiiiii! so this idea has been bumping around in my head for the past few weeks, and I finally decided to do something about it. idk the world has just been kinda crazy lately, so I figured why not write something super self indulgent about sukuna to help take my mind off of things. this is just the prologue, the next few chapters should be dropping soon-ish after this. I just need to tidy some things up (aka edit the fuck out of everything i’ve written so far🫠🥲). just a couple of quick things- this is a Heian era AU fic, and while I did do a lil research before I started writing this, there will probably still be a couple of historical inaccuracies here and there. so for that I just wanna apologize in advance and say my bad. I have the entire story outlined, including the current number of chapters it will probably take to wrap everything up, but considering this whole thing has sort of taken a life of its own at this point idk what to expect anymore lol. I'll do my best to update it when I can based on life and work and everything else. !!!please note!!!: the first few chapters focus more so on reader's back story and world building, so sukuna won't make his first full appearance right away, but he IS mentioned periodically leading up to that. so please bear with me until he arrives in all his glory lol. anyway, thanks for everyone who has shown interest in this story since I first posted about it the other day! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it 🖤 divider by sweetmelodygraphics

Southern Japan, 888 AD

Your head was pounding when you woke up. Just as it had been ever since you’d arrived at the temple. 

Well, arrived was too kind a way to describe what had really happened. Being forcibly kidnapped and imprisoned was a much more accurate description of how you had landed in your current situation. But the specifics didn’t really seem to matter all that much anymore. 

Nothing did really. 

You were still laid out in the middle of the floor of the small shrine you’d been confined to for the past two- or maybe it was four?- days now. You eyed the carafe of water to your right, and if you weren’t feeling so groggy and sick you would’ve crawled over to it and gulped it down. Hoping that the refreshing chill of it would help clear your head finally. 

But moving felt impossible, and you were so, so tired. 

A few days ago sleep would’ve been a welcome escape for you, but now it was just another prison you were stuck in thanks to the numerous talismans that were hanging on the walls around you. They had been smart to not leave any light sources in the room with you, or else you would have grabbed the nearest torch and burned them all to ash so you could try and make a run for it. But the only source of light you had came from the moonbeams that were shining in through the tiny window above you. 

The air was thick with smoke from the incense that had been burning ever since you’d been sealed in this room. Its sickly sweet aroma had made you retch when you first arrived, but now all it did was keep your mind fuzzy and your body heavy and sluggish. That paired with the ofuda that hung from floor to ceiling was just another tool used to keep you subdued and prevent any hope you had of escape. You couldn’t cross the threshold of the shrine even if you could get your body to cooperate. 

The faint chittering sound coming from the shadows let you know you were not alone. But you couldn’t bring yourself to look in the direction they were coming from. You didn’t want to see the empty black eyes of the creatures that had been assigned to watch your every move day and night. Not when you now knew the sickening truth behind how Hisato had created them. Binding dead flesh and bone together with-

You couldn’t even think of it. 

Your former master had never been one to shy away from showing the world exactly what kind of man he was. You knew that he was cold and cruel when you had willingly joined his side all those years ago. But somehow even you hadn’t thought he would be capable of such grotesque acts of depravity in his quest for immortality. 

Or perhaps deep down you’d known all along what sort of monster he truly was, choosing instead to ignore it by willfully turning a blind eye to his unhinged cruelty because of the protection and comfort that had been provided to you by dutifully serving under him for so long. 

You had been a fool. 

If Sukuna were here, he would wholeheartedly agree with you. 

He was somehow the one thing you could still see perfectly clear in your mind’s eye. You pictured him standing in this small room with you, towering over your limp body, his tattooed arms crossed over his broad chest as he glowered down at you with those fiery eyes of his. Challenging you to get up off your ass and do something. To fight like your life depended on it, because it did. 

‘Foolish, pitiful, girl,’ He’d say.  ‘This is pathetic. You’re being pathetic.’ 

You’d honestly give anything to hear him say those words to you right now, and the thought had you suddenly giggling to yourself. You didn’t care that your laughter was bordering on hysterical, but it was just so bitterly ironic that you found yourself wishing that the King of Curses was here to mock and scold you, considering that just a few months ago you had slapped him as hard as you could right across his face for insulting you and calling you names. It was funny how things had changed between the two of you in such a short amount of time. 

The knowledge that you might never get to be near him again weighed on you. To hear him tut under his breath at you for bothering him with your ‘useless blabbering’ even though he was the one who so often sought you out. To feel his blazing red eyes follow you from across a room. To be overcome with the heat of  his large body moving in tandem over yours. If you closed your eyes you could almost taste the sweat of his skin, and smell the rich, musky, scent of cedar and smoke from the incense that filled his chambers. In your mind it was so sharp it could almost mask the disgusting smell of the incense in your prison. 

Almost. 

You wished you could warn him about Hisato. You wished you could go to him and let him know that you were alive. You wished you could tell him where he could find you. You wished you could tell him to stay far, far, away. Because even if Sukuna did somehow manage to find you, even if he did somehow arrive here and challenge Hisato, there was only a limited window before the ritual would begin, and if Hisato was successful, not even Sukuna would be able to grant him a true death like he deserved.

In the distance you heard the sudden ringing of the large bronze bell that lived in the heart of the temple. It rang loud and clear- once, twice, and then a third and final time. Despite your distance from it, you felt your bones rattle with every swing of its giant body.

The chattering from Hisato’s creatures resumed, and this time it was feverish and loud. Their little shrieks and screams filled the room, and you could hear their talons scraping against the wooden floor as they moved their decaying bodies in excitement. 

The moonlight that shone into your room was brighter than it had been only moments before. It pierced through the thick wisps of smoke that filled the air like a sword cutting through a blade of grass. You turned your head and stared out the window as you watched as the edges of the full moon that hung so heavily in the night sky began to twinge with red. Red like blood. Red like Sukuna's eyes. 

It was time.

tag list: @after-laughter-come-tears @officialholyagua @clp-84

[call-me-copycat]

Love Knows No Bounds

➤ Welcome - Introduction and Request Rules (Requests are open + Some info about me)

▶ Characters: Yandere Dadzawa & Daughter Reader [Platonic]

▶ Genre: Kind of fluffy + Yandere themes

▶ Summary: Aizawa's never really taken a liking to kids. But you keep finding him somehow, and he wonders why he's now constantly worrying about you. He decides you're the only exception he'll make.

▶ Word Count: 4547

▶ Warnings:

This is yandere, so there's bound to be a slightly unhealthy mindset

Aizawa's not a creep, I promise

Implications of deaths of citizens

Graphic description of those citizens fear before said deaths

Mention of slight stalking

I'm not too great at writing Yandere, so it's not too bad

You were impossible to ignore.

Aizawa's first meeting with you wasn't exactly conventional. You were paddle boating around the recently melted lake, which was still cold enough to have small chunks of ice still floating around. The surrounding park was busy with people, all enjoying the evening weather right before the sun went down.

Aizawa was just trying to take a walk, he wasn't even on the clock. But when disaster calls, he has to be the one to always answer.

Something must've caught the bottom of your boat, because before you knew it you were engulfed in icy water. Your limbs locked up, and all the breath in your lungs immediately went out.

He was the first one into the lake, pulling you out and onto the grass where it was safe. Before you could grasp your bearings, he was already gone. You only caught a glimpse of the man that had rescued you.

Aizawa, on the other hand, was slightly annoyed with you, seeing as he had to make his walk all the way home in soggy clothing with a chill digging into his bones.

But he didn't care. You were an empty face in a faceless crowd.

Until you appeared again.

The weather was still slightly chilly, but it didn't deter you as you set off for school. You walked down your normal path you'd take, only to see a large dog waiting for you at the end of the path. It was chained, but it was blocking the area - most likely waiting for its owner to come back. You didn't have time for that.

Ultimately, the best decision for you was to go around. To take a slight detour. You were never allowed to walk in strange areas, and you knew your parents would have a fit if you were found out.

Approaching the new area with caution, you sped your way through the neighborhood with ease as it wasn't too different from yours.

A glimpse was what caught you off guard.

Passing by an apartment complex, you initially didn't think much of it. You peeked into the parking lot, only to see the back head of a man getting into his car. He was placing something into the back seat, and you watched curiously as he shut the door and turned to get into the front.

Your eyes widened at the exact moment when you saw his face, remembering the blurry outline of the man that rescued you. Quickly, you calculated how much time you had left before school, eventually coming to a decision as you swiftly made your way over to him.

Your walk turned to a run as you watched him get into his car and turn his key. Your bag rapidly beat against your back as you heavily panted, ending up haphazardly behind his car just as he began to back up.

The car instantly halted with a screech, the back lights blaring as you stood frozen in place.

Aizawa heatedly opened the car door, scowling at the blatant disregard you had for your safety. Before you could react, he was already on you.

"Are you not watching where you're going? Do you not know what would've happened if I didn't react in time?" He snapped, not having much patience with random kids so early in the morning.

You stood there awkwardly as you fiddled with your school uniform, not realizing why you had wanted to reach out to him. Looking at the ground, you evaded his angry glare as you thought about what you had wanted to say to him.

Aizawa's expression softened as you avoided his eyes, realizing he was being a bit too harsh on you. He knew he needed to be stern, but he often got scolded by Mic And Midnight for being too harsh at times. Realizing his behavior, he steeled himself by taking a breath and kneeling down to your level.

"Look..." He started, placing a hand on your shoulder, "You just need to make sure you're aware of your surroundings, I don't want you getting hurt because of someone else's actions. "

Looking up at him with determination, you gripped the bottom of your shirt as you exclaimed, "You...! You're the one who helped me in the lake, right?"

His eyes widened for a second as he thought back to it, realizing that you were the kid he helped out at that moment. He never had someone remember him helping them out, often due to his hidden nature to keep his face out of public view. He would simply do his job and leave. If anything, it was to be expected to not get anything out of it.

Aizawa wasn't sure how you did it, but you somehow managed to find him and mustered up the confidence to thank him. He now saw you as who you were, a kid with a name and face instead of being one of the many blurs in the background.

Still at knee level, he rubbed the back of his neck, "I am," curious, he had to ask you, "Would you mind telling me how exactly you were able to find me here? "

You excitedly nodded your head with a smile as you recalled the issue with the dog and your regular path to school, and how even though your parents didn't like you taking new paths that you didn't have a choice, and to please not tell them or else you'd get in trouble -

Immediately, you remembered about school, and instantly realized that if you didn't hurry then you'd be late, Aizawa quickly catching on to your unease.

"I need to..." You started, beginning to walk away as you nervously pointed out towards the sidewalk from which you came.

"How long does it take you to get to school?" You only answered with a shrug, Aizawa sighing in response. He was caught in a rock and a hard place now.

On one hand, he could just leave you and drive to UA as normal, but deal with the guilt of being the cause of your tardiness. On the other hand, he could offer you a ride, but at the expense of getting in trouble and being seen as a creep. A young girl getting into a random man's car with no knowledge of who he was wasn't the brightest idea when it came to evading public attention. With his looks and mysterious reputation, he already got a few odd looks from passerbys as he spoke to you.

Who were you, and how were you already able to worm yourself into his life?

-

Helping a random kid get to school was definitely not on his itinerary for the day, yet here he was.

"Are you buckled?"

Nodding cheerfully, you hummed in acknowledgement, oblivious to the heavy dread that settled in Aizawa. He had given in as you looked up at him with worry in your eyes, but he brushed it off as a one time thing. He'd only give in this once.

You weren't very good at giving directions, he realized. After too many U-turns and 'wait a minute!'s, he was ready to get out a map instead.

Finally, you arrived at your school with a few minutes to spare. You happily hopped out of the car, turning around and waving at him with a large smile on your face as you walked inside. After you disappeared from his sight, Aizawa meekly gave a little wave. It felt nice, in a way, helping out someone new.

Although, on the other side he was extremely irritated at your lack of awareness as you were ready to hitch a ride with what was a random stranger. He might have slightly scolded you on stranger danger on your way to school, but you didn't mind too much.

He thought that was that, and that he wouldn't see you again. But you were always there, ready to budge your way into his day once more.

The sun was setting, with only a few strands of light clinging onto the ground as Aizawa took a small walk to the convenience store. The air was cool, and the path was near empty as people began leaving before dark. Perfect for a night dweller such as him.

It was only when he saw a familiar figure that he stopped in his tracks.

You were wheeling a bicycle alongside you, wearing casual street clothes now. Why, he wondered, were you out at this time? Yes, it wasn't that late since the sun barely went down, but it was dark. Much too dark for a kid such as you to be out by herself.

"Oh! It's you again!" You greeted him before he could even fully see you, just as happy as you were before.

"It's late. Why are you out here?" His voice was stern, but still carried an undertone of carrying.

You laughed, already having realized that this man wasn't as scary as he seemed on the outside. You had quickly grew comfortable around him, despite how annoyed he seemed every time he saw you.

"My bike broke, so I'm walking," looking around, you noticed the early time, "besides, it's not too late, I've been out later than this."

His eye twitched. You were so comfortable, smiling and ignorant of any danger or threats that were possible. How you survived this long was well beyond him.

"Still-" Heaving another breath, he swallowed any objections and changed the subject, "What's wrong with your bike? "

You looked down at it, gently nudging it to the side and back, "I think the chain popped, though I could be wrong..."

Aizawa knew nothing about bikes. He only rode a few times as a kid and sometimes as a teen when he didn't have a ride. Still, he lowered himself to inspect your bike. Upon further examination, he did discover the chain, broken.

That night he escorted you home, carrying your bike for you since you were hauling it beside you 'too slowly'.

-

Aizawa nudged open his front door with his foot, convenient store bags in hand. Putting them down on his kitchen table, he took a moment and silently looked at the ground, wondering just why he was constantly fretting over you.

Perhaps it was because of how ignorant you were? Maybe it was just something he picked up when training to be a hero? He had no clue. He wasn't even a kid person, his own students were already pushing his patience a little thinner each day.

Every time he saw you, he got to know a little more about you. Each meeting gave him a puzzle piece, and a picture of who you were was slowly forming with each occurrence.

He began seeing you more often, whether it was due to random chance or by choice, he didn't care.

Waking beside you as you got off school while you told him all the things you learned, running into him at the grocery store and trying to convince him to get your favorite pudding, showing up at his doorstep with a small basket of berries you picked from the town garden...

Sooner than he would've cared for, Aizawa noticed that he began to like having you by his side. Your company was like a breath of fresh air in his lungs, your happy mood constantly keeping him from getting too sour.

It was new, and it was... Pleasant.

-

"Aizawaaa-San!"

Your voice greeted him just like every other time he met you, and he cracked a small smile upon hearing it.

Your were a bit of a distance away, but he stopped in place to allow you to run up to him. You somehow found him once again, taking a walk along the harbor where the boats were docked. It seemed like a game at this point, one you always seemed to win.

"Guess what?!"

Ever so excited, you seemed to be practically buzzing with enthusiasm.

He cocked an eyebrow, putting his hands in his pockets as you strolled next to him, "What is it? Going somewhere, I suppose? "

Your laugh rang in his ears, a sound he couldn't get enough of. He was just happy that you were happy, after all.

"Yes! My parents and I are going to visit Tokyo!" You put your hands on your cheeks, gushing, "It's going to be so fun, the city always has the most to do!"

Ah, Tokyo. It was a nice city, but cities always seemed to bring trouble. As everyone knew, the more populated an area, the more villains littered the place. Suddenly, it seemed that the air of amusement deflated from him.

"Just... Be sure to be careful please. "

You took notice of his sudden mood change, confused as to why he wasn't happy about your trip.

"Of course I will! But..." You tilted your head a bit, "Are you okay? You don't seem very happy today"

Taking notice of your worry, Aizawa quickly put on a weak reassuring smile. Putting a hand on your head, he comforted you, "Don't worry about it, just promise to tell me all about your trip when you get back"

You looked up at him, eyes filled with confidence as you hummed in acknowledgement.

-

Why was he here? Has he actually lost his mind?

That's all that rolled through Aizawa's mind as he scrolled through train stations you'd be passing by. He just needed to be sure that the ride will be safe. He didn't need to go all the way to Tokyo, but just far enough so that he could reassure his frantic mind.

Yes, he understood how freaky he was being. But for some reason, you triggered some odd emotion deep in his brain that made it so he couldn't not worry about you. The world was rough and sharp, he's seen lots of villains that couldn't care less about tearing a small girl to shreds...

A shudder ran through his spine, and Aizawa quickly ejected the thought from his mind before he could go any more crazy.

-

The rain was uncomfortable, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. All Aizawa could do was circle around the nearby stations then let you truly go to explore further.

Without him.

It left an odd taste in his mouth.

The train passed by, rumbling the station and the people around it, and he watched as it rode further and further away . . . carrying you with it. Of course you'd come back, it was only a trip. But what would he do if you didn't? What if your parents decided to move to Tokyo? What if you got into an accident?

It was then that he realized how silent his life would be without you in it. You were the colors dotting his gray life.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to drive around to calm himself, his nerves making him more jumpy than he'd like.

The drive was unfortunately cut short.

He knew it. Aizawa knew something was bound to happen.

Of course a villain shows up. He had seen the call earlier that day, but at that time they were much farther away. He realized that whoever the heroes were chasing must've been fast.

He was also quite large.

A massive villain, made of rock was being propelled by what seemed like self-made wings was near-cornered by a good amount of heroes going after him. And when a villain gets trapped they tend to do one of two things: they either (1) Lose any sense of logic in their mind and make stupid last-minute decisions, or (2) Get extremely violent as they know their time is up and that they have nothing to lose.

This villain seemed to be leaning towards the first point, as his flying began to get more and more erratic, frantically trying to find a way out through the numerous towering buildings with a multitude of heroes on his tail.

It was an unfortunate timing of events.

It felt as though time froze for a split second. Aizawa had never felt as powerless as he did in that moment. He could only watch in horror as the villain slammed into the train tracks with a deafening thud, knocking away a good portion of the tracks that sat high above the ocean.

(Like a combination of these two ^⁠_⁠^)

Huge chunks of rubble slowly collapsed down and into the dark waters that rushed at the bottom of the tracks, down to the point where they couldn't be seen anymore. The metal pieces of the tracks sat sticking out of the remaining ends, bent and distorted.

Whipping his head where your train was coming, Aizawa felt as though his heart was about to overflow and explode to pieces right in his chest. He felt hollow, and everything began to swirl as he watched the train skid in an attempt to stop.

Unfortunately the train was too heavy to stop all at once, causing it to skid over the tracks with a shrieking screech as metal collided with metal.

Sparks flew from the wheels as the train bolted in the direction of the collapsed tracks, threatening to hurl itself over and into the roaring waters below. Surrounding citizens were ushered out of the area for their safety, but those remaining sat and watched tensely, often screaming out in worry and horror at the sight before them.

Aizawa immediately halted his car and tore out into your direction while leaving it where it sat, uncaring for anything that blocked his way from getting to you. He held his scarf that once sat in his passenger seat haphazardly in his arms, struggling to get the heavy metal properly around his neck while he ran.

Pure adrenaline coursed through his veins as he sprinted with all his might towards the skidding train, his eyes never leaving the sight. He knew that he wouldn't be able to make it up there on time, and he surely knew he couldn't stop a train, but he'd be damned if he sat there watching without attempting anything.

A slight burst of hope sparked within him as several strength-bound heroes rushed to the scene and teamed up to heave the train in the opposite direction to slow it's movement. It was a bit of a struggle, but the stalling of what would've been a complete massacre of a train full of civilians meant everything in that moment.

A hero in front was attempting to push his feet in front of the machine while it skidded against him, and several in the back were using an assortment of quirks in an attempt to pull it backwards.

Slowly, the train began to slow just as Aizawa made his way up to it, the train still ticking its way uncomfortably close to the edge. He hopped into the train from the roof just as the front of the train slowly ran over the edge, dangling itself over the dark waters while the back cabins sat on the crumbling tracks.

All the passengers were in a panic, and it was incredibly difficult for Aizawa to manage his way through the terrified screaming and faces full of tears, but he was determined to face the chaos in order to find you.

He knew he was breaking Heroes Code. Once you were a hero, you were expected to do your best to save every person you could, with no bias towards one and risk the lives of many others. But he just couldn't think of such a thing at that time.

His mind was in a frenzy as the passengers all started hollering and rushing towards the back of the train, and in that moment, Aizawa realized why.

The front cabin of the train was threatening to rip off from the back end, the cables slowly snapping as more and more people rushed through it.

Eventually, a horrible, dreadful silence filled the cabin as the passengers still inside the front all froze in place, terrified to make a single move.

Aizawa stood at the front of the cabin that sat on the tracks, peering down inside the cabin that dangled - straight at the petrified faces of the passengers as they looked to him for rescue.

He had to think. If he just walked in, the entire thing would collapse. But he didn't see you in any of the cabins when he started at the back, and he took a second to glance over the terrified faces, each nothing but a blur to him.

Faceless, nameless citizens.

It was then that he instantly locked eyes with you, huddled at the way front end of the train. You were gripping the top bar of the train with such force that your knuckles were white, and he could see the true look of horror on your face as you had the closest view of the water waiting to swallow you down below.

He could only assume the two adults next to you were your parents, but he wasn't focused on them. Your eyes were screaming for him. It was extremely unsettling for him, to see your usually innocent and joyful face filled with such fear.

He only had one thing on his mind. The only thing he's every thought of whenever it came to you.

To keep you safe. To protect your smile.

At this point a couple other heroes had boarded the train alongside him and began to rush the the front end of the train, intent on getting everyone out alive.

Unaware of Aizawa's selfishness.

Slowly, the cables snapped as the cabin began to lower without stopping, causing the passengers to go into another round of distress as they all could only await the inevitable.

"Eraserhead!"

Quickly, Aizawa gave a small glance behind his shoulder to the random hero calling his name, keeping you in his peripheral vision. He was a young man with thick ropes of metal unwinding from his body, keeping the secondary cabin that still sat on the tracks from falling with the front. The metal coils winded around and through the train as it gripped the machine, keeping the man stationary.

"Please! Just save who you can!"

Another hero from behind the young man added on, "There are other pros waiting below the train to catch as many passengers as they can! They can't assure they'll be able to save everyone, so please! Move whoever you can grab, and do it NOW!"

He sprung into action before the hero could even finish her sentence, darting straight in your direction. For a brief second, his eyes caught a glimpse of who your parents were, and he realized that if he put in some extra effort that he could've taken them with him.

A dark, heavy feeling filled his mind for a second, and he seemed to lose control of his normally logical mind.

Envy. Jealousy. Rage.

They too, were faceless, nameless citizens.

Unimportant.

He was rash, wrapping and hauling you up and through the cabin with his scarf, immediately pulling you into his arms as he carried you to the safer cabin. Once his scarf was free he hastily tugged a few nearby passengers into the cabin with him, an alibi, before the cabin snapped entirely and began collapsing down below.

The passengers erupted into a cacophony of shrieks and crying as they uselessly tried to make their way to the other cabin before theirs fell entirely. Aizawa caught a glimpse of your parents faces again, but he only watched as they fell with no remorse on his face.

He felt hollow, but at the same time he felt fulfilled with you in his grasp.

Looking over, he saw a couple heroes mid-flight, ready to do what they could for the falling passengers. Aizawa could only look on grimly as he understood they wouldn't be able to handle all the people left behind.

You were clinging to him as the front end of the train collapsed, and as you turned your head Aizawa covered your face with his jacket to keep you from witnessing something that a kid your age shouldn't ever have to see in their lifetime.

-

The tragedy was all over the news. Numerous heroes littered the scene as they assisted all those that they saved to the medical professionals. News reporters were constantly attempting to get a word from one of those heroes, or an image of what was left behind. A few selfish ones, hungry for a best seller, tried to get a few words in with the victims.

The train was now empty, the front cabin sitting in the waters below and the rest of the train barely lasting against the remains of the crumbling tracks.

Ambulances were wheeling out more people than they had room for, and construction heroes were already on the scene as they got ready to remove the train from the hazardous tracks.

And yet, throughout all the chaos, all Aizawa could look as was you.

You, clinging onto him for dear life. You, who almost lost that life. You, who once again was saved by him just as he did that one time in the lake.

He refused to part with you, accompanying you all the way to the closest hospital they could get you to that wasn't overcrowded. He still stayed by your side, all throughout the night as you couldn't sleep.

He was by your side as the doctors gave you one last checkup before letting you know you were ready to leave.

And he was the shoulder you cried on when you found out the news about your parents. They were just faces in the crowd, yet he was still there to assist you.

He was a hollow, empty man towards the unknown. Those without faces didn't gain any sympathy from him, they littered the background plenty.

He was there when you felt completely, awfully lost and scared. And he was the one to offer you a home. He gave you a home, safety, and unconditional love and comfort. He was simply, conveniently there, and you didn't question it.

He was there for every fear, every nightmare, and every time your felt alone.

Later on, he was the one who accompanied you to school, this time as the one to sign you up and drive you home without worry. He drove you everywhere freely, no matter where you wanted to go. No worries attached.

You reached out to him as your pillar, and for once, things flipped around as he was your beacon of light now.

Soon enough, your smile returned, and with it that laugh he so enjoyed hearing from you. You were safe, and you were happy. That was all he needed.

Now that you were his, he wouldn't risk a single thing that he thought would put you in danger.

Your laugh was purely for him to hear.

Your smile was only his to see.

Your safety was only his concern.

Constantly by your side, you both rarely parted. He wouldn't allow you to anymore, seeing what happened the last time he attempted to let you go off without him.

You couldn't have been more grateful for all he gave you. He saved you from a lonely life ahead, and he kept you safe. He was always telling you that, anyways.

But you didn't mind. Aizawa was Aizawa, and you couldn't ask for anything else. For all you knew, he was the man who always conveniently showed up to save you, the one to always lend a hand whenever you needed it.

But to you, he wasn't Aizawa anymore.

He was Dad.

And he wouldn't ever let it go any other way.

Notes:

I hope this was good for a first attempt at writing Yandere! If this wasn't to your liking, send me a message through asks and I'll write another how you'd like! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

I really liked the plot I made for this one - ̗̀ ( ˶'ᵕ'˶) ̖́-

I'm working on the other requests I've gotten, I've been getting plenty! I really appreciate every one who sent one in, I look forward to fulfilling what I can ୧꒰*´꒳`*꒱૭✧

I hope you all have a lovely day!

@jessiedead Hope you like it (⁠^⁠^⁠)

[xeno1queen]

Growing Strong With The Dragon - Part I

Aemond Targareyen x Tyrell!Reader Summary: A lonely princess finds herself betrothed to a cold prince. Warnings: No warnings, just a chill introduction. No character description. Afab. Authors Note: First time writing a fanfic so I’m just putting into words the things I’ve been thinking. Don't really care about "historical" inaccuracies. English is not my first language so the grammar might be a bit janked.

You have been alone most of your life, your only company being your ladies in waiting and your mother. You had a brother and a dad, but both of them seemed to have no interest in you.

You much prefer the company of books and nature in the Highgarden gardens.

You've heard the news in the capital and you're wondering which side your father will choose as the lord of Highgarden. You don't really care which side he picks, as you are not told much about the war because "Ladies should not worry their heads about unfit matters," said your father, but you do indeed worry.

A couple of days had passed since you first heard the news of the war, and the Greens were already looking for allies. They placed that task on the shoulders of their only unmarried heir. A bold choice, but no one would dare touch the prince in the presence of his dragon. The prince has already gone to Storm's End in search of a betrothed, but the exchange ended badly with the killing of Prince Lucerys Valaryon.

His second option was going to Highgarden. Your father hasn't chosen a side yet, so a marriage proposal to such an important family could help in his decision.

Within two days, the prince arrived at your doorstep. Your lavish father decided that he was to be welcomed with a feast, even though it was just meant to be a quick trip to ask for your hand in marriage. Your father spared no expense at the visit of such an important prince. He wasn't afraid to show the power of House Tyrell, owning the most fertile fields in Westeros means lots of money for your family.

During the feast, the prince was not really impressed by the food, as during the reign of his father, the banquets were not few. However, he sure was impressed by how you behaved yourself.

You’ve always been shy. During the whole banquet, you could mostly only look at your plate and, the few times you looked at him, you noticed he was already looking at you, which made you flinch and blush.

While feasting, your father and the prince talked about war and his marriage proposal, which of course your father accepted swiftly. Having his daughter marry the most powerful family in Westeros was a blessing to him, even if it came with the condition of having to send his men to die in a war they shouldn’t be participating in.

You know you were only getting married to the prince for political reasons, yet you wondered if such a beautiful man could eventually fall for you. You weren’t ugly yourself, just a bit “socially awkward,” yet he didn’t look at you with disgust. He looked at you with intrigue.

Once the banquet was finished, Prince Aemond locked eyes with you and returned to King's Landing. You felt like stone after that intense eye contact, as if his only eye had turned you into a statue.

That night, you felt all the anxiety from the feast hit you, and the anticipation of a long journey to marry the most beautiful man in Westeros made you lay sleepless all night. Would he be kind? Or would he be a cold monster who would only use you to make heirs? Those questions did not leave your mind all night. You just hoped he wouldn’t treat you badly.

[leavingsunsets]

alsgakdgaksh sorry I know you just answered my request but, but, but what about dcst characters reacting to a reader who has a problem with daydreaming (maladaptive daydreaming)

basically they get so lost in their mind that they start acting out or quoting(? their thoughts, from the outside it just kinda looks like they're talking to themselves but they've got a whole movie in their mind 😭 (i legitimately subconsciously tripped myself because i imagined a character falling to the floor)

take care and don't rush <333

whooo this was a doozy. had to do a little research for this one, so i get to give yall some good rep or atleast make it feel a little more accurate tehee. anyways with this population sampling liberty ive decided to get 5 characters, 4 guys and 1 girl. enjoy 😋.

"𝔇𝔞𝔶𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔯?"

[𝖣𝖢𝖲𝖳 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗐/ 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋.]

𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙠𝙪 𝙄𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙞

Might be a little confused at first. Like, especially if it's at random times. Maybe he's busy tinkering with something, and you're in the same room. You do or say something and he automatically goes "huh?" because he thinks you're talking to him and you go "huh."

It takes some adjusting for him, but he learns much faster than the others. Though it's kinda funny during the beginning stages because whenever you said something aloud he'd pause whatever he was doing to stare at you blankly, and if you didn't look his way after a few seconds he'd take it as you weren't talking to him and resume his business.

He's a curious bugger tho so he obviously glances over at you sometimes to see what you were doing, whether you were both alone or not.

Seeing as your attention is a little harder to grab, he's got a custom habit of either patting or holding your shoulder. Like "yo [name]," and a little shoulder tap.

But with this development, it seems you've also learned to do the same. Now that he's used to you talking to yourself, to show that you're speaking to him, you have to either tap him or say his name.

Overall, pretty chill about it, even talks to you a lot just to pull you out sometimes.

𝙏𝙖𝙞𝙟𝙪 𝙊𝙠𝙞

Our sweet, underrated, heart of gold who I couldn't find nice aesthetic manga banners for (sorry for the jumpscare). Bet you didn't expect to see him on the list, huh?

Just a little longer in terms of adjusting. Like Senku, is a little confused and goes "?" when you do things randomly. Sometimes, you are interrupted because whenever he is in vicinity he's just bombarding you with questions.

"Hi! What are you doing?" "Were you talking to me?" "What's that mean?" "Were you saying something?" "What is that gesture?"

You either give him a very detailed description about the scenario in your head or just BS it.

"I was communicating with the trees." "Wow! Really? You can do that?" Accepts whatever choice you pick anyway. He will listen intently and he will take it literally. An open chance to tell him whatever you want and he would not suspect you at all. He is very intrigued at this new type of acorns called "Deez" that you found in the forest. Apparently it's part of the "Ligma" family of trees? Wow!

Easily snaps you out of your daydreams because his voice is just loud enough to do so.

You get to enthuse with him sometimes, and he will happily listen.

𝙏𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙖𝙨𝙖 𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙤

Also a little underrated, I swear.

Problem with Tsukasa is that he's a little nonverbal so when you do or say something, he just stares at you. Hulk of a man watches in confusion as you play out a whole soap opera or something.

But hey, what is Tsukasa if not a kind and gracious man?

Tries to understand you, and is a good listener if you ever need a guy to ramble to about this. And hey, gives him more insight on your mind in general.

Keeps a slightly closer eye on you, or is just more aware of your predicament in general.

This Tarzan would genuinely be gentle about it like he'd check up on you and stuff. Talk to you, or even sit down with you, maybe a little chitchat.

I imagine you as a duo would be him sipping nice tea and enjoying the garden meanwhile you accidentally drop your cookie in the milk so you borrow his teaspoon just to scoop it out and he lets you. Very weird analogy but he is just kind??

An enigma, overall doesn't change his usual equitable treatment towards you.

𝙆𝙤𝙝𝙖𝙠𝙪

I already had a vision of her reaction to this. Like, as an inquisitive type, she'd most likely ask you questions all about it as soon as she notices it. More answers lead to more questions. Forgive her, she's only curious.

Similar to Tsukasa, she wants to be aware and informed. Wants to know about what you're thinking about sometimes. "Hmmm..." and just watches you from the branches.

Of course, watchful, and vigilant. Observer type. If ever you're too out of it to notice something potentially harmful coming your way (or vice versa), she'd be there to tug you back to reality.

She's most likely less patient than Tsukasa, not the type for a sit down kind of conversation, but would still let you ramble while you both pick apples or smthn.

Overall a nice gal who wouldn't mind it at all.

I feel like she's the complete opposite of a daydreamer, so it's hard for her to understand what it's like. Still, she tries to be considerate and talks with you whenever she can as a way to learn about it.

[sh1-n0bu]

Can u do yandere Beel-obey me with a impulsive/lil crazy mc/reader? In a minute she is calm and in the other she tries to kill a random demon. May u can do him a lil masochist too? Pretty pleaseee 🙏

✿ 𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙯𝙮 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙚’𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 ✿

characters: yandere!beel x fem!reader

warnings: generally darker undertones bc it’s a yandere, description of fighting, injuries, mentions of blood, yandere thoughts and acts, masochism, hinted that mc have signs of anger issues and bipolarity, some suggestive things

notes: ‘m so so so sorry for the late response hun. i just couldn’t rlly think of a good scenarios for this one😔 hope it’s to your liking!

everyone experiences bipolarity and anger issues differently. i am no mental health expert and i wrote this with my own anger issues experience and a friend's bipolarity. if some things seem wrong or unlikely then pls let me know.

since mc is literally living with demons, there definitely will be some darker/gruesome moments brushed off as a normal thing bc they’re demons

so with that in mind, being possessive, protective, a bit too overbearing or controlling is seen as a normal thing in a relationship for them

however beel is much more chill and softer when it comes to such things

it’s bc he has great GREAT amount of trust in you plus he knows no sane, lower demon would never dare and approach you

either bc of the pact markings of the 7 demon lords of devildom or

your impulsive self.

yep.

that’s the reason.

at first meeting and the first few days or weeks into mc’s stay in devildom, the brothers either find mc’s impulsiveness and anger issues relatable, amusing or just downright annoying

as for beel he didn’t really care. as long as you didn’t get yourself killed or gravely injured

if anything in the beginning it low-key reminded beel of his twin, belphie

mc’s dark humor, threatening back demons about how they will puck out their teeth, boil it into a soup and shove it down their throat while it’s still steaming hot were first annoying to most of the brothers

however to beel, it just reminded him of how his brother would always snap back at the other demons and more specifically, lucifer

perhaps that little resemblance is what led beel to be protective and possessive over mc

it started out slow and barely noticeable lingering hands over their shoulders, small worried glances, giving them ice package to put over their bruised knuckles

soon it developed into beel constantly hovering around mc, threatening to eat the other lesser demons who even dared to gaze at them to scenting

when scenting your partner in a demon relationship, it usually involves leaving visible marks on each other since demons all have different distinguishable markings

whether it be carving their marks into their s/o’s flesh with their claws, leaving a bloody bite mark or sometimes even their pact markings on each other

however, considering the fact beel is more gentler than the other demons and your a human, he simply decided that cuddling with you for so long to the point that others could smell beel’s sin and scent on you or just draping his large, fluffy orange jacket over you was enough

unfortunately, demons are beings that generally have a darker mindset than humans so one day some lesser, cocky demon mocked you for being “beel’s pet” while you were alone

mc paid that demon back with a broken nose and a broken arm that bent the wrong way (like this __^__🫴)

the terrified screeching of the onlookers and the anguish filled cries of the cocky bastard alongside the blood dripping from the claw marks the demon left on mc called upon the attention of the brothers

when arriving at the scene beel couldn’t help but feel an odd feeling within him

something hot, mushy and dizzying feeling pooling in his stomach, his mind getting hazy, eyes half lidded with the only focus of attention being on you

asmo sensed his brother’s sudden arousal and dragged him off from the crowd, sitting him down in one of the empty classrooms and having a talk with him. helping him calm down and explaining to his little brother that sometimes people get aroused by people who are stronger than them

since that little incident with mc and the cocky demon, beel has never went a day without his mind wandering to the scene he saw

you standing tall and proud with a bloody claw mark running from your chin to your neck with an odd triumphant grin while the lower insect screeched, holding his broken arm

and when he lets his daydreaming go wild, the sixth brother finds himself fantasizing about you sitting on him with the same grin, carving your initials on his chest

the scent of blood oozing around the room, the quiet giggles that would slip out of your lips as he groans and whimpers at the odd yet pleasant feeling

and when his imaginations go further than that, the avatar of sin of gluttony finds himself choking on his breath, pants tightening and the room feeling hotter than the usual

perhaps paying a visit to your room this night won’t be such a bad idea…

[runesofthedelta]

There's some real funny character stuff that occurs post-no-mercy and into a true pacifist.

Chara seemingly returns to their old self, as the narrator, on that post-geno-pascifist. Frisk still gives their name as Frisk at the end.

The game is actually pretty forgiving about both geno and pascifist. Because there's nothing in either or that suggests that the world has fundamentally changed.

... But Chara, isn't forgiving.

Undertale falls with the idea that the characters are people. It asks "if a protagonist can actually Save their Game in real life, how would that affect the world and its people?", It follows every trope when it comes to RPG monsters, asking "If our hero is so heroic, what about all those monsters they slaughtered by the hundreds to get to the end?"

Its a deconstruction on the ideas of RPG. Most of the time, it reconstructs just as well, letting you explore what you'd like and still making it just in time for a happy ending...

... Until you decide to go on a killing spree.

In a reset post-geno, you have only one LV. By the end, the kid we've been playing identifies themselves as Frisk. Chara is still the Fallen Child we name, and is still the fairly amicable narrator.

Until the end.

If we choose for Frisk to leave Toriel (to... gods knows where), the picture we receive has all our "friends" crossed out, and the character of Frisk replaced with Chara.

( This might imply that they went after our friends... but truth is, at 1 LV, shared between Frisk and Chara, they have no killing intent at all. )

Crossing out this picture is a "Fuck You" to Chara. Frisk and Chara finally get a happy ending... but you, the Player? Absolutely Not. Chara won't allow it.

If we choose for Frisk to go with Toriel, Frisk lives with her and can be found sleeping in a bedroom as we watch. Once Toriel leaves a pie slice, Chara turns over and stares at our "camera".

( Still LV1, you can't get the true pacifist run without LV1 )

All this shows...

That Chara and Frisk share the LV. And about after Ruins, in Geno, is where Chara just takes center stage. Only in aborted runs or resets, does the stage return to Frisk and Chara chills out.

That Souls transcend Time and Space. Its the only way Chara would know enough or be around enough, to know what we the player did in a post-geno-pascifist world and ending.

Neither Frisk nor Chara control the Red Heart. We do, the Player. Even though the Red Heart is Frisk's soul, and that Chara is attached to it because Chara is a post-mortem consciouss that should have a Human soul, and persumably, their soul was Red too. ( I would've said that we don't know, because there were other humans... but Chara's speech in Geno specify Frisk. )

Frisk, cannot do a genocide route. At the start of it, Chara takes over right away, and stops talking to Frisk, and starts talking to Us. in every Neutral and Pacifist Route, Chara talks to Frisk. In Geno, Chara takes over, and Frisk isn't a factor. But once Chara gets the Red Soul, from us the Player, Chara will willfully just go back to talking to Frisk. Until we, the player, try to get involved in the ending scene--in which case, Chara takes right back over.

Chara encourages mercy and mischief, when someone is playing the game to be merciful. Very rarely do they interfere with the choice (one known exception is refusing to allow crying), and only in the true lab does Frisk interfere with Chara's set choices... of which Chara will staunchly back up Frisk's reactions from then on.

Even post Geno, Chara encourages mercy and mischief, but this is more specifically pointed to Frisk.

( Because if Chara just wanted to screw everyone, why wait for a geno-play? Why not just do it in a regular True Pacifist... Its because they don't actually want a Genocide. Who does? )

Chara wants to help, and protect, Frisk, as the "narrator".

They read to Frisk, they understand Froggits for Frisk, they give options, give descriptions. (I've got my own personal HC about who exactly is reading the HP, EXP, LV, ATK and DEF, because I'm pretty certain Chara isn't that indepth about monsters they couldn't have possibly met.. but they're definitely the flavor Texts and Descrptions). They kinda translate Frisk for Us the Players, so they do semi-know that there's a third (HC: Or fourth) party here.

( I believe the reason why ties into how the Red Soul operates as a human soul. Free Movement? Prime power to escape nearly any situation? Red Monster Magic about alarms and warnings? Red Text meaning Danger? The Red soul pays attention to Danger, and its first instinict is to Flee--thusly, Frisk is actually a pretty scarred kid. )

Chara's first instinict upon waking up to Frisk, inspite of how much others have claimed that Chara hated humanity... was to help by any means necessary with what little they can do. Especially since Frisk is a scared kid who doesn't know what to do at all.

So when that allpowerful third-forth party comes in, and decides that death by any means necessary is the goal...

What's Chara to do, except, take the brunt of it instead? Let Frisk take the backseat, and Chara does the dirty work so that Frisk doesn't get hurt.

Then Chara performs their ultimatum. They sever our connection to the world, and it stays dead, or we give them the Red Soul.

And upon taking the red Soul, Chara seemingly returns to just the merciful-mischievous narrator, at LV1, with Frisk.

... Only now, they stay with Frisk. And when it looks like that we, the player, are looking at them outside of the underground--Chara looks Back.

They took the red soul to ensure this little kid, Never Gets Bothered or Hurt by Us again.

ADDENDUM:

This ain't the first time in anime fiction where a dead semi-psychotic seemingly soulless spirit, fond of mercy and mischief but also fond of giving those with ill-intent their just rewards, who possesses a younger soul and bolsters and protect them.

Who woke up confused about where they were and what was going on.

Who definitely got themselves killed pulling something that didn't work, and they still had to fix it after they was dead.

Who's actions did result in a friend of theirs becoming a total asshole in his next life.

Who has played both psycho and savior.

And was a royal child.

... And y'know, they just happen to like children's card games.

[myballsitchaurghouchie]

Do u have like ref sheets or smth of your characters?

I think your ocs look rlly interesting and i would like to scribble them pls 👉👈

Also please use this ask to info dump about your characters i would like to learn about them!!

YOU WANT TO SCRIBBLE THEM???? THAT'S SO NICE I MIGHT EXPLODE.

Okay i'm pretty sure you were referring to the OCs in my drawing of that one guy digging his hand in that other guy's guts so here i drew a proper "reference" for them + the third guy who's with them

They are my silly billies, Ceaser (he/him), Missy (who goes by many names)(she/he) and Remy (he/him).

Remy is like a thousand years old vampire, Ceaser is a much younger vampire (turned around the 1970's or something idk) and Missy is a former vampire hunter. Shenanigans happened where Missy was supposed to kill Remy but is now living with the both of them.

I have a whole story of how they all met and how Missy ends up staying with them, but i prefer focusing on using them for worldbuilding of my own take on vampires + i like just thinking about them chilling together.

Ceaser is almost always tipsy or straight up drunk to cope with his vampirism. Him and Remy have a little sewing/tailoring business going on + Remy owns an antique shop (a lot of the items he sells are stuff he found dumpster diving and decided to repair). Missy is trying not to lose his mind over his cultist vampire-hunting family that may or may not be looking for him, and Remy is just chilling taking care of the two of them in his manor.

Here's more drawings of them. Ceaser's tattoos always change that's normal i just can't decide. Let's say they're all tattoos he drew himself with sharpie ♡

There's a lot more about them and the things around them and the vampire lore i make up (like. Remy feeds on blood and Ceaser feeds on thoughts or whatever) but i don't like making long posts so. Yea ♡

Thank you for asking about them this is so nice and so enabling for me to get an opportunity to talk about them

[Image Description in Alt Text and under the cut.]

Image 1: A digital drawing of 3 characters drawn from the shoulders up.

One the left is a character named "Ceaser"; he has light brown skin, a long face and droopey eyes with eyebads, long messy and wavy white hair that has black roots showing, and various piercings. He wears round glasses, has tattooed sclera and white irises, and tattoos on his cheek, neck, collarbone and torso.

The next character is bamed "Missy"; she is lighter skinned and is shorter with a rougher face, a short buzzcut with a few white hair, and wears square glasses. She also has an eyebrow piercing, a tattooed line going from her lower lip to further down her body, and scars on her torso.

The third character is named "Remy"; he is darker skinned and looks much older, has long, greying black hair in dreadlocks and a beard that is also greying. His eyes are almost entirely white.

Ceaser and Remy are vampires, while Missy is a human.

Image 2: A drawing of the previous three characters, now in a chibi-esque style, seen entirely. Ceaser is wearing a black sleeveless top and baggy pants, and he has tattoos on almost the entirety of his arms. Missy is wearing slim clothing in shades of black and combat boots. Remy is wearing Victiorian-era adjacent clothing in hues of purple and white.

Image 3: Another drawing of the same characters, very similar to the previous one. Missy this time is wearing a red tank top and jeans, and Remy is wearing a turquoise vest.

Image 4: Various sketches of the same three characters in different styles and situations.

At the top left is Remy holding a bag happily, saying "Today's dumpster diving was fruitful ! Thank you lots, kids !". In the background is Ceaser laying on the floor saying "Anything for you Remy", and Missy standing with text next to her that says "I used to kill people".

next to it is an exchange between Missy and Remy; Missy is gripping Remy's shirt threateningly saying "Look at me in the eyes when i talk to you", to which Remy responds "I don't know... That's scary....".

At the bottom left is Ceaser hugging Remy while saying his name, and Remy responds "Good morning to you too, Ceaser".

At the bottom right is Ceaser sitting on a couch, holding a phone and a jpeg of a Heineken bottle to his lips, and Missy is leaning over the couch, talking to him.

Image 5: A traditional drawing of the same characters. Missy and Remy are sitting on a couch, covered in lipstick marks from Ceaser who is standing behind, smilling and drooling. Missy is sitting bewildered and confused while Remy is wiping the lipstick off and smilling.

Image 6: A doodle of Ceaser and Missy fighting. Ceaser is saying "Bitchass dyke let go of my hair, motherfucker", while Missy is yelling "I should have let you kill yourself, you're too dumb to live".

Image 7: A drawing of Ceaser and Missy sitting on a couch; Ceaser is laying on the couch looking at his phone and Missy is sitting with a leg over him, looking directly in front of her. Ceaser is saying "Erm... okay pussy eater ?", to which Missy responds "Dick licker".

[winxanity-ii]

⌜Know No Evil | Chapter 00 Chapter 00 | Blurb⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

Aizawa coughed, a wet, bloody sound that echoed in the tense silence. A spray of crimson splattered across your cheek, a stark reminder of his vulnerability. He managed to wheeze out a single word, vice weak and raspy. ❝Villain...❞his gaze hardening despite his weakened state.

❝Always so quick to label,❞ you chuckled, the sound devoid of humor. ❝Perhaps villain isn't the right word. Let's just say... I have a different vision for this world, Aizawa-sensei. And you, with your unwavering sense of justice, would just stand in my way.❞

With narrowed eyes, Aizawa, his face haggard and drawn, rasped out, ❝I knew you'd...*Cough*... become an issue.❞ His haggard figure, his labored breathing—it only fueled your twisted sense of amusement.

Tilting your head, a slow, chilling smile spread across your face. It wasn't quite playful, but held a hint of something predatory, like a cat toying with its prey.

Leaning down even closer, you brushed the tip of your nose along the side of his wounded face, the metallic tang of blood mingling with the adrenaline thrumming in the air. The contrast of your smooth skin against his rough, blood-stained flesh sent a spark of something dark through you.

❝Oh, you haven't seen a real issue yet~❞you purred, your voice dropping to a seductive whisper, the sound sending shivers down his weakened spine.

Slowly, you trailed your nose along the contours of his jawline, stopping just a hair's breadth away from his own. ❝Not by a long shot,❞ you breathed, your voice barely above a murmur. Then, with a final, teasing touch, your nose bumped against his.

With a final smirk, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his temple. Before Aizawa could react, you took control. His eyes, glazed and unfocused, flickered once before glossing over completely. His jaw slackened, his body a puppet on a string.

You had seized the reins.

..... ... ..... ━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━ ..... ... .....

Humans.

Oh, how you despised them.

As the Control Devil, you couldn't help but see them for what they truly were: inferior pests that belong beneath your thumb.

So imagine your surprise that you found yourself dying at the hands of one and waking up in a world where 'Quirks' define one's worth, with no recollection of who you were.

But as whispers of your past life soon began seeping through the cracks of your new reality, you decided that a life without your reverend Pochita wasn't a life worth living.

So the question remains: What's left for you to do? ..... ... ..... ━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━ ..... ... .....

╭─↬ ❗𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆❗ ↫─╮ There will be mentions/descriptive scenes of the following:

╭ ⁞ ❏ Strong Language ┊ ⁞ ❏ Stalker-Like Tendencies ┊ ⁞ ❏ Toxic and Manipulative Behavior ┊ ⁞ ❏ Graphic Gore and Violence ┊ ⁞ ❏ Apathetic/Antisocial Behavior ┊ ⁞ ❏ Minor and Major Character Deaths ┊ ⁞ ❏ Yandere Tendencies

🔺 Reader Discretion Advised.

Lol, I don't know if I got them all, so if you see anything I didn't list, come back and comment right here so I can add them to the list later ➡

Enjoy (•͈˽•͈)

𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐬𝐭, 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Though this may be a various!bnha fic, MC will most likely be with 1-2 people; may the best yanderes win 😈

[cryptidcorners]

Could I have a fluffy imagine/one-shot of Mike with a librarian girl? Like Mike goes back to the place he got the dream book from, and now he wants something to get his mind off (the trauma of the movie) so the librarian helps him find something else he’d like. Maybe a Sherlock Holmes detective or something. Thanks so much!

~ Mike Schmidt x Reader ~

= Title: Friendly Nostalgia

= Character: Mike Schmidt

= Media: Movie!Five Nights At Freddie's

= Prompt: N/A

= Description: The aftermath of Mike's job as a security guard had got him thinking, as well as tripled his internal hardships. In an attempt to cool his troubling mind, Mike decides to go into his old library to find one of his favorite literatures, and maybe a new friend along the way.

= Request: "Could I have a fluffy imagine/one-shot of Mike with a librarian girl? Like Mike goes back to the place he got the dream book from, and now he wants something to get his mind off (the trauma of the movie) so the librarian helps him find something else he’d like. Maybe a Sherlock Holmes detective or something. Thanks so much!"

= Tags: Fluff ! Small Angst? Librarian Reader + Setting, Shy Mike, Sweet Talk, One-Shot, Platonic (with Slight Romantic Implications? It's up for you to decide !) + Reader is !Fem

= Warnings: Childhood Trauma + Kidnapping Mentions, Child Death/Spirits, Struggles with Mental Health (Depression, Anxiety, Stress) + FNAF Movie Spoilers !

Morning birds flocked through the featherweighted clouds thinning across the fresh sky. A chilled exhale rattled out of Mike's throat, the cold dawning air nipping at his skin. His head was foggy with exhaustion, yet flickering with soft excitement. The streets were empty, much to his content. Crowded boulevards and sputtering car exhaust muddied his senses, he hated it more than anything.

He shoved his reddened hands down his pockets to shield the breezes from his fingertips. Mike hated the overwhelming traits of the outside world even more after his accursed job as a solo-unit of security. The crumbled children in the machines, Vanessa wilting away within her hospital bed and William. It was too much and he couldn't handle it.

This whole mess was the reason he was heading towards his local library, one he hadn't stepped in the years. It was the only place he was comfortable visiting now. It was quiet, no people to talk to, and he'd be able to pluck out his favorite contents in peace.

Mike had been particularly fixated on Sherlock Holmes, lately. The whole idea of mysteries had made him want to learn more, even after being injured at Freddie's. Weirdly enough, after scavenging through his old contents, it unraveled more and more about what happened those dreaded nights ago.

Mike hummed quietly as he lazily pushed the glass door. The silence calmed his senses. There were a few locals, but they were buried between pages. After awkwardly exposing his card and being gently discarded to explore the aisles alone. He started trailing around the mystery section. He couldn't pick one story, so he was doing nothing but strolling.

"Do you need some help?" A voice peaked his shoulders for a flash. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, sir."

You apologized, your voice was soothed. Mike shook his head gently, "No, no. It's fine, don't worry."

A smile spreads across your lips and you read the aisle with an eager eye. "You like mystery?"

"I've just gotten into it, really." Mike slid his hands through his curls promptly. It was strange how comfortable he felt, it felt tender, weird enough. "It's a sweet genre. I like it when it keeps me guessing. Gets my mind off everything."

"Yeah. Fiction is a great outlet, that's why I became a librarian." You explained warmly, "It's something I've always dreamed of."

Mike released a breathy chuckle in response, unsure how to reply.

You extended your hand towards the neatly rowed bookshelf, trailing your finger until you slipped out a rough looking cover. Your eyes wandered to him, "You like Sherlock Holmes?"

"He's actually the reason I'm here." Mike tilted his head lightly with a calmed grin. He had no idea why he felt so comfortable around some random librarian girl he had just met, but he had no internal reason to question it. "I have a few of his stories at my house, my little sister found them."

"That's adorable," you brushed your cheek. "Maybe you'd like this one. Personally, I think it's one of his most underrated works." You handed him the book, and his eyes flickered up and down in interest.

"Wow,"

"Cool right?"

Mike nodded.

"I don't think I've seen you before here, uh," You trailed off.

"Oh. Oh, sorry, I'm Mike. Mike Schmidt," He shook your hand softly. "I actually haven't been here in a long time."

You arched a brow, face still settled, "What made you come back?"

"Well, first off, Sherlock Holmes." He shook the book lightly with a low chuckle. "And, well, work. It's been hard, so, I thought I could read a bit to calm things down."

You curled down to pile some scattered books in your hand, "Well, I hope you come back again, Mike. Maybe we can talk about some more stories, outside of here of course. I get a bit loud with stories."

You both chuckled, "I'll come back. I could always use some more mystery." Mike had been clutching the book with eager hands, along with a fluttered expression. He hadn't connected with someone in quite a while. It felt refreshing.

"Well, I have to get back to work. Goodbye, Mike." You stirred back into the halls. Mike whispered in response. "Thank you,"

He wanted to talk more, but, he didn't want to hold you back. Mike's eyes flew down to the hard-leathered surface. He chewed his lip,

I should have asked her for her name . . .

And with that thought resting heavily in his mind, Mike left the library, with a giddy attitude and a little too many mystery books in his hands.

[soft-girl-musings]

Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps - CHAPTER 1 (Strangers In The Night)

Noir!Jake Lockley x WOC Lounge Singer!Reader

written in collaboration with + header by @mrs-lockley

chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5

cross-posted to ao3

tags: late 1940s Noir AU, Reader is WOC coded but with no physical description besides being slightly taller than Jake while wearing heels, no use of Y/N

wc: 2,222

fic summary: Of all the gin joints in all the world, Jake Lockley walks into yours. Unfortunately for him, it's not quite the start of a beautiful friendship.

A/N: can't believe this is the product of covid-induced hcs and thots between me and @mrs-lockley, thank you so much for encouraging this buddy (also @lunar-ghoulie if i had a nickel for each time you've sent an ask/dm about a WIP and it ended up being where i put all my energy, i'd have two nickels. which isn't a lot but it's hilarious that it's happened twice).

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On nights like tonight, Jake Lockley regrets his choice of profession.

It’s a dreary November evening, darkening by the second as the New York streets grow damp and cold. The wise had decided not to venture out; the blindsided rush across slick pavement to whatever shelter they can find. The desperate stay on the clock and curse their luck.

He should know by now that when a client says they’ll be “just a minute,” it’s a boldfaced lie: even if they have every intention of being efficient, he’s been stranded on the curb more times than he can count.

So he keeps the meter running. He’s seen the duds his regular client has on each week; the man could afford to fork over a few extra bucks. Might even build character.

The steady rhythm of the rain had been fine at first, but after half an hour parked beneath the neon sign of The Paper Moon– hat, coat and gloves doing nothing to ward off the chill creeping into his cab– every raindrop taunts him in his isolation.

To hell with this.

He shuts off the engine, pops his collar, and braces himself before stepping out onto the street. The rain falls fast and hard, so he rushes toward the brick exterior of The Paper Moon. He’s never been inside, but the glowing crescent of the sign had piqued his interest the first time he’d dropped his client here. He may as well see what all the fuss is about.

The doorman– a tall, dapperly dressed unit with a neutral grimace– casts a wary look his way. Jake ducks into the alley beside the building. Guess it’s exclusive.

Through the rain he spots a side door with a meagerly covered stoop, upon which is hunched a smaller, yet equally well-dressed figure. The young man’s tawny complexion pops against the emerald green of his just-too-big blazer, mist gathering in the dark brown waves slicked back from his creased brow. He grips a cigarette between clenched teeth, stuttering curses around it as he strikes a flimsy matchbook to no avail.

“¿Necesitas un fuego?”

At his offer, Jake is met by startled, impossibly wide brown eyes. The shock turns to glee as his face breaks into a toothy smile.

“Sí– sí sería genial, señor.” He makes room on the stoop, his dimpled cheeks betraying his youth. Jake pulls out a lighter and deftly lights the end of his cigarette, earning another dimpled grin after a few christening puffs. “Muchísimas gracias.” 

“No hay problema.” 

He lights one of his own, the smoke mixing with the fog of his breath as he holds out his free hand. “Jake.”

“Mauricio.” His newfound companion grips his hand and shakes vigorously. 

They sit in silence for a few moments, their subtle exhalations and the slowing rain the only sounds between them.

The mood is disrupted by shouting from the other side of the door, followed by clattering and the unmistakable sound of someone falling. The door behind them flies open and a lanky, dark skinned man in a matching green blazer pokes his head outside.

“You’d better get your tail in here, Maurie. She’s in one of her moods tonight.” 

“Rats, alright,” he groans, taking one last drag of his cigarette before stamping it out with his heel. Mauricio straightens his blazer and pushes a hand through his hair. He pauses at the door and looks back at Jake. 

“Do you wanna come inside, dry off for a spell? We put on a mean show,” he swears. The kid's face isn't one Jake imagines people say “no” to very often.

“...Yeah, alright. Thanks.”

“Great! There’s a couple of tables toward the back that should still be free, you can sneak in there no problem.” Mauricio holds the door open a bit wider for Jake to step through. “If anyone gives you any trouble, just tell ‘em you’re with me.” With a wink and another winning smile, he darts off to follow the other blazer.

Jake finds his spot easily enough, taking in the atmosphere as he weaves between tables and patrons. So this is The Paper Moon.

The building’s drab exterior is deceptive: inside is a small lounge, bustling with activity and humming with life. Richly draped walls envelop the space, with ornate lamps and soft candlelight radiating from every table. The room looks as warm as it feels, a welcome relief from Jake’s prior solitude. 

He takes off his soaked coat and loosens his tie. Across the room Jake sees his client– a cold, calculating Mr. Wesley– who gives a curt nod, as if granting his permission to take a load off (for now).

He orders a drink from a slightly bewildered waiter and continues to survey the space. People of all shapes and sizes occupy tables and barstools, with the chatter of at least three languages creating a dizzying buzz around him. The crowd dies down when stage lights flash on at the far end of the room.

Out marches the band: the guy who'd clambered to the back door sits at the piano, cracking his knuckles before playing a few notes on the keys; an older man with a similar complexion props an upright bass in position, riffing along with the scattered piano melody; an impressively mustachioed fellow polishes the mouthpiece of his trumpet; Mauricio settles in behind a set of drums, waving a stick in the air when he spots Jake.

As warm as he's gotten after coming inside, the temperature seems to skyrocket as the click of heels and the shimmer of the last band member crossing the stage sends his heartbeat right into his throat. In walks– no, floats – a vision, evening gown the same color as the richly painted lips that curl into a smile as easily as breathing. Something Jake seems to have forgotten how to do.

He can’t take his eyes off you.

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There’s something in the air tonight.

Maybe it’s the smoke lingering on Mauricio’s jacket (you’ve told him time and time again how smoking before a show irritates you; he must have snuck a pack backstage), or maybe the weather has you out of sorts. Whatever it is, you’re one false step away from losing your cool. Which, of course, cannot happen. Not onstage.

As the band warms up, you take one last look in your compact mirror, blot your lipstick, and take a deep breath. It’s showtime.

The moment you step onstage, you turn on the charm. Nothing can touch you up here. Not when there’s music to play, a band to lead. A night to make unforgettable.

You approach the microphone and smile. “Hello again, darlings. Did you miss us while we were away?”

Applause and cheers echo back to you from the audience. There’s a distinct two-toned whistle that rises above the noise, but you don’t think anything of it.

Not until you scan the crowd and see something– someone – that doesn’t belong.

Lounging at the previously unoccupied back table is a man you’ve never seen before. Which wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t know the face and name of everyone who enters your club.

His eyes stay trained on you as you nod to the band to begin. One outlier a bad night will not make– you’ll deal with him later. For now, you let the caress of the opening notes ease the new tension in your body, and you start to sing.

With six shows a week, one would think the routine would become tedious. Quite the opposite: any night you play the same standards with the band is bound to be a good night. The chemistry between you and your boys is perfect– even on an off night like tonight, you still manage to follow each other and make the same hour of music sound brand new.

You lead one song, then another, completely in your own world. Of course, the constant cheers and occasional audience participation don’t hurt. But just when you hit your stride and forget your troubles, that whistle rings out above the noise.

The stranger's on the edge of his seat, rapt attention never leaving the stage. Seems innocent enough, but you’re still on high alert.

The set comes to a close, ending with a vibrant flourish. The band improvises a steady beat as you take a sip of water, then smile once more into the microphone.

“Oh, stop. Really…. well, alright, you can keep going,” you croon at the crowd as they cheer louder. 

You gesture to the band. “Let’s give a big round of applause to The Jays, what do you say?”

“On piano we have the dazzling Jackie Thomas,” you call out as he trills a fancy melody a little louder than the rest. “Followed by this absolute Adonis on the bass, Benny Hayes,” you add as the smooth licks of his instrument sound out a reply.

“Let’s hear it for Leo Castellón and his magnificent mustache on the trumpet,” you tease as he blasts out a tune. “And our baby bird on drums, Mauricio Farrés!” You raise your voice as the youth bangs out a closing rhythm. 

“And as always, I’m Ms. Songbird. We hope you’ll join us again soon, my doves. Goodnight!”

The band plays themselves out as you descend downstage to the front of the room. Time for the next act.

You know how to work a crowd both on and offstage; hospitality is as much a part of the gig as the music. Tonight’s a full house, but you take your time gliding past each table, front to back. Does everyone have their preferred drink? How’s the food? Was the music to their liking? All questions you ask with genuine interest, but you know the answer: everything is perfect.

"Hey, little songbird," a voice calls above the noise.

Everything except him.

You've been avoiding the back table for a while, trying to collect your thoughts before confronting him. No time like the present, I suppose.  

You turn to see the outlier standing by the table he’d commandeered, a shimmering bundle of rhinestones dangling from his hand. The glint of a grin catches the low light the same way your traitorous earring does.

You touch your ear and your face grows hot. “Where did you–”

“Fell off as you floated by the last few tables, angel.” 

Your heels tap out a warning as you approach. Toe-to-toe, with the added height of your shoes, you practically tower over him. Your brow furrows as you size him up: too forward to have something to hide, too laissez-faire to be up to any obvious trouble. All the same, you don't trust him.

You look him up and down; he does the same. "You're not very tall, are you?" More of a challenge than a question as you reach for the rhinestones in his hand.

Leaning back against the table, jewelry dangling just out of reach, his sly smile grows. "Well, miss, I tried to be."

"Right." You snatch the earring back before he says anything else. "I see you also tried to be discreet, and that didn't go so well for you, did it Chuck?"

"Actually, it's–"

“–club policy to check your coat at the door. Something our hostess would have insisted upon, meaning you– ” you emphasize as you lean in, fingertips pressed to the tabletop by his side, "–slipped in under the wire." You search his face for anything to betray his intentions. "Now how did you manage that?”

The stranger lowers himself into his seat, hands raised in surrender. "A little backstage access, courtesy of your drummer there." He nods toward the stage: you catch a glimpse of Mauricio clumsily ducking back behind the curtain. You'll scold him later.

His gaze shifts across the room. “See that fella over there– the one who looks like it'd kill him to smile? I’m just waiting to drive him home, like I do every week.” He grins again, that same look in his eyes. A look that sets you on edge. “Just a humble cab driver, miss– nothing up my sleeves.” 

“Didn't know cabbies could be so exclusive,” you say, still eyeing him. James Wesley has been a regular for a few weeks, but you've never met his driver.

“With what he tips? Doll, I'd do damn near anything he asked.” The stranger chuckles, sipping his drink.

You know what he means: the wait staff has noted a major uptick in gratuities since Mr. Wesley has started frequenting the lounge. 

“Very well,” you offer stiffly. It all checks out, but you get the feeling there's something he's not telling you. “I hope everything is to your liking.” 

You turn to leave, but he takes your hand before you can go far.

“Oh believe me, it is… Ms. Songbird. ” A wink and a smile play on his lips as he swiftly presses them to your knuckles, letting go just as fast. You storm away before giving the satisfaction of showing how flustered you are. 

“Mr. Manalo,” you beckon a waiter as he passes. He stands at attention. You gesture to the table you’d just left, not bothering to look and see if his eyes are still on you.

“Watch out for this one, will you? I get the feeling he isn’t just here for the music.”

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A/N: !!!! every story i write becomes my new favorite, but Noir!Jake has carved a pretty special spot in my heart this autumn. so excited to share more of him with y'all!

as always, thank you for reading :)

addtl tag list: @fandxmslxt69 @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)