#i promise he likes & appreciates the gift he's just got issues

[aubins]

she is rasping and literally crawling toward yuri with big wet eyes because the week has been very unkind to her and she's a little scraped up from getting caught in a wilderness trap but don't even worry about it. however! she reaches them and her fluffy head perks up.

"yuri! yuri, we weren't on the same island last week, and bernie didn't want to miss you just in case—" rustle, rustle. from her belongings, she fishes out a lilac-ribboned box. inside there is makeup, carefully curated and dorothea-certified of course, along with a flower accessory she'd made herself. its blossom is the color of their eyes, which she is doing her very best to meet now, thank you very much.

(in fact, she's trying so hard that it pinches her brow just slightly. eye contact will always be her worst enemy but god if she isn't pulling out all the stops to show her earnestness. they deserve that much and plenty more.)

"happy, uh, early birthday...!" the gift is ushered into their possession. then her arms flap at her sides, and she blurts: "please don't get eaten by alligators, okay?! wait, are there alligators on this island? w-well, don't get eaten by anything! please. um, yes." nod, nod. "i don't get this whole competition thing, but you're still bernie's dear friend. and bernie really, really wants to keep being friends by the time your next birthday comes, too."

a pause. then, lips curl into a silly, fond smile that bernadetta can't help but make. "a-and it doesn't have anything to do with this weird island, but, um... you make me happy. so i hope this makes you happy, too."

Yuri Leclerc does not celebrate their birthday.

Sometimes, there are exceptions. Like the treats and surprises of a certain red-haired girl or the odd greeting here and there from Abyssians who have known them for long enough to learn it. Yet no matter how routine these exceptions start to become, they will always be just that: exceptions. Because, for so long, the day they'd said was theirs never really was their birthday anyway. Because, a long time ago, the boy who was born on their actual birthday died on the streets of Adrestia.

“Bernadetta,” is their hummed greeting as their gaze flicks over her, pleased— well, always pleased, really, to see her, and even more so when she appears to be in relatively one piece— their usual smile curling at the corner of their lips. “That for me?” they ask, tone teasing as she fishes the box from her belongings. It's not even my birthday yet, is the follow up, already upon the tip of their tongue when—

“Happy, uh, early birthday...!”

And Yuri blinks, stunned for a moment, because no, they think, they will never quite get used to these exceptions. Even as Bernadetta shuffles the gift into their hands, babbling that they shouldn't get eaten by alligators, if there even are any— “No,” they think they hear themself say automatically, first instinct always to reassure, “I haven't seen any alligators. And I won't get eaten, so don't even worry about it.”— and that they're her dear friend— “...ah?” is the only sound they make in response to that one, a little quiet and a little confused, because there's no automatic answer to it, not one that they want to give to such a genuine effort anyway.

They glance at the box now in their hands for a beat, then pull it open gently, as if afraid it might break. “You didn't have to,” Yuri says, gaze immediately attracted to the collection of makeup within. They know, of course, what it costs, and suddenly mean it doubly so. “Must've cost you a pretty penny. You should've spent it on yourself.” And even if some people would say it just to be humble, humility has never been one of their features. They know what they do and do not deserve.

After all, Yuri is no stranger to gifts like these. Makeup and jewelry offered to them because only the finest of accessories should decorate the most beautiful dolls— and never for free, of course, because nothing in this world is ever for free, and they are quite used to trading both face and body.

They kept them all, no matter how they loathe them sometimes. They may be prideful, but they are not foolish. There is a trunk under the floorboards beneath their bed in Abyss filled with their hoard, bountiful enough to convince someone they are a magpie and not a mockingbird. Bountiful enough to remind them that, now, the Savage Mockingbird can take a noble's expensive gift and slit his throat while wearing it if they wanted, then toss it without a second thought to disappear within their collection.

But while Bernadetta is a noble, she is not like them. (But how do you know? asks a voice. Yuri silences it. They just do— they must believe that.) Not because of this island, she says next, and as much as Yuri can guess where her mind tends to spiral to, they wonder if she can do the same. Because they would have thought it next, yes, wondered about an objective handed to her in the interim that perhaps needed completing or some other game their hosts wanted to play. Even with the reassurance, they might have still wondered.

But maybe it is because it is Bernadetta, because she had known them before they were Yuri, and know all the secrets and vulnerabilities that come with that, because no matter how many times she says she has forgiven them, Yuri is used to bracing for betrayal, that the mockingbird pauses. Briefly, yet completely and utterly struck still mid-flight.

And then they believe her, even when the first instinct ingrained in them is not to.

“It...” they start, then pause. Correct themself. “You make me happy, Bernadetta. With or without the gift. But thanks for thinking about my birthday.” Because it's nice to be thought about, in the end. If it needs to be put simply for her, without the mess of their past, then it— and she— makes them happy. Bernadetta doesn't need to know the rest. Yuri grins, then plucks the flower accessory from the box to hold out to her. This one, they can think about without straining their smile. No shadow haunts it; this one is just Bernadetta. “Help me put it in my hair?”

Next birthday, we'll still be friends. But they do not say it aloud. This one is a promise all for themself. Yuri resolves not to break it.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hc for Halsin, Astarion, Will, Gortash, (& maybe Damon and Raphael) caring for a loved one with chronic illness or like an illness that keeps them bedbound for an extended time

A/N: Oh Nonnie, do I feel this ask lol. Chronic fatigue sucks, mainly because so few people don’t understand it goes beyond being just ‘tired’. There’s brain fog, stomach issues, and body pains– so I tried to touch on each of these symptom types for each character response. However you’re doing, whether you’re in a flare or not, I want you to know your illness is not your fault. You didn't ask for this. Don’t feel guilty for having to take care of yourself. You’re worth it. I promise. 

Also, this is unrelated but it’s lowkey funny that the week after I got diagnosed with a weird anemia, I write an answer for an ask about chronic fatigue. lol

TW: Mention of Chronic Fatigue/Pain, Brief Mentions of Sex 

🤕 BG3 Men Caring for a Gender Neutral! Loved One With Chronic Illness 🤕

Astarion: 

Worries. Like A LOT.

Tells you not to be so dramatic about it but will literally sprint towards you if he even hears you sigh.

He asks Karlach to carry you. 

Steals somebody’s cart/chariot if she refuses and instead makes her and Shadowheart take turns pulling that. (Jokes on him, they do it because they’re your friend, not his lol.) 

Has you come on missions because he feels more secure knowing you’re right behind him, and he can keep looking after you. Astarion makes sure to always sneak ahead so you never walk unknowingly into any danger 

Will give you massages if you’re in pain frequently, especially shoulder rubs, as he loves the view it gives him of your pretty neck. 

Speaking of necks, feeding is a huge no-no. At least, until you start feeling a bit better. And then he’ll only allow himself a taste. Gods knows you need all your strength, and he would feel terribly guilty to take what little you have from you. 

Lowkey appreciates the bags under your eyes and the way you can look like death incarnate, because well, then he doesn’t stand out as much. He also finds it strangely alluring, how you can look so fragile yet be so strong. It inspires him to find that balance within himself if he’s being honest. 

If you have trouble ‘performing’ due to your illness, he’s not upset at all! (He’s actually quite relieved.) 

Loves finding other ways you can be intimate together, like going to a spa and sharing a bath. Or finding a highly-rated inn and cuddling under some luxurious silk sheets. 

Turns out that after a lifetime of being forced to do things, Astarions is more than happy to spend his time doing nothing with you. 

Wyll: 

Is so sweet and tender when he speaks to you.

He’s literally Prince Charming, which makes you his Sleeping Beauty. 

On your good days, he’ll have you stand on his feet as he twirls you around, finding this the best way to ‘dance’ with you, given your current stamina. 

Requests for you to stay back at camp and rest while he and a few of the others handle the more taxing and dangerous missions. Gifts you some books and journals of his to keep you occupied in the meantime.

When he comes back to camp, the first thing he does is check on you. If you’re awake, he’ll make sure your needs are met before tending to his own. Doesn’t matter if Wyll’s starving and covered in guts, if you need a drink or an extra blanket, just say the word and he will fetch it immediately.  

Will recite poetry to you on the bad pain nights when you cannot sleep because everything aches too much. He knows his voice won’t stop the pain, but he hopes it provides a soothing atmosphere to just rest in, even if sleep cannot find you.

Is always so tender and gentle in his lovemaking, that it’s rarely an issue for you. However, on the nights that it is, don’t feel bad at all. Wyll adores you for much more than your body. He loves your mind, your heart, and your soul. Just being near you, knowing you love him back is more than enough. 

Halsin: 

Is always prepared with some medicinal herbs or a healing spell. 

He’s a natural caretaker, and you are no exception. However, when it comes to you, Halsin does approach the act a little bit differently. 

It’s much more personal when he makes you health potions or casts spells to heal you, you can see it in his eyes. In a way, it’s as if your pain has become his pain, and he needs the relief just as much as you. 

As long as you give your consent, Halsin prefers to have you touching him. Be it laying on top of his chest, or seated on his lap, he always wants his skin against yours, as if his touch alone could shield you from your illness. You find it rather sweet of him.

He pleads for you to stay behind in camp, or the grove- somewhere that is not the center of the action. He wishes for you to remain out of the fray, fearful that in your condition, fighters with less honor than he would take advantage of your vulnerability. 

If you need to be in a house with a room, and not camped out in the woods, he understands, although it may frustrate him a bit. He believes nature is the perfect healing environment, but he also trusts that you know your illness better than anyone. After all, you’ve managed it all these years. So instead, he simply brings nature to you. 

Haslin decorates your bedroom with plants, trees, and succulents. If you’re allergic, he enchants them to reduce their pollen production. 

Halsin understands he is rather large in the ‘down there’ department. If you cannot have traditional sex with him, it’s not a surprise to him. He knows more than one way to please his partner. He’s very giving and seems to get off on your pleasure more than his own at times. 

Halsin thinks you are one of the most beautiful gifts of nature. Your illness is just another part of you, and because it’s a part of you, he thinks it’s beautiful as well. You may resent it, but Halsin could never separate that part from you and hate it. He simply loves the whole of you too much to do that. 

Dammon:

Oh my god, he’s such a sweetheart.

But also a low-key tease. 

He has no issues getting or reaching things for you, but he does have a mischievous side, so be prepared for him to hold your things hostage, in exchange for a kiss or two. 

Has a habit of finding you curled up in bed on your worst pain/fatigue days and peppering you with kisses, and won’t stop until you laugh. 

Forges special mobility aids! Do you need help walking? Pfft. Not a problem. Dammon’s an incredible blacksmith, and he can make you armor that helps stabilize you. You know those really cool joint support braces you can get on Etsy and stuff? Yeah, he makes you DOZENS of them, all in different metals and designs, to match your mood/outfit for the day. 

While on the road, or in the grove, he always ensures you’re armed with some sort of easily gripped knife or sword, just in case anyone attacks. He does his best to keep you close, never walking too far ahead or behind, but you having that extra layer of protection makes him feel all the more reassured. 

He's not a fighter, but years of working in the forge have made his arms and back strong. He swears he will do everything he can to protect you, that no harm will come to you so long as you stay close. 

Is so relieved when you make it to the city at last. He’s so grateful that he can finally provide a real room and bed for you. He feels as if the entire journey has been worth it now that you’ll be able to rest and heal as you need, in the kind of safe and stable conditions you deserve.  

Comes in from a long, sweaty day of working in the forge, but immediately sets his sights on taking care of you. Draws a bath but insists you bathe first, as the water won’t be full of grime and ash after he bathes. 

Is always surprised and very flattered when you tug him in with you, still touched by your affection for him, as if you’ve just met for the first time. Dammon’s still a little shocked that out of everyone, you chose him. (Ironically, you feel the same. You’re a perfect match!) 

Insists on taking the lead during more intimate moments, and to make sure you just lay back and let him do all the work, introduces soft silk ties for your hands and ankles for whenever you feel like indulging in that kink with him. 

Gortash: 

Spoils you rotten. 

No, really.

Part of the highlight of being a Lord, soon-to-be Duke, is that he has the power to make all the other people do things for him. And no task is too costly or requires too much manpower so long as it means you’re taken care of. 

Buys the most lavish sheets and sleep sets for you. He wants you to be comfortable, the both of you deserve nothing but the best, after all. 

Assigns around-the-clock healers to you 24/7. They are always in your home, on-call, awaiting your request for relief. He wants every measure of treatment and remedy explored. If there’s a spell or herb that can reduce your pain, then you shall have it. 

Enjoys any downtime he has with you. Has his staff put a special chaise lounge in his office so you can visit him when he’s working. 

Gortash is so used to putting up fronts for everyone else, that it’s nice to let his guard down around you. You don’t judge him, or think less of him for his ambitions. Other people would run if they learned the truth, but not you. No, you’re so much more special than that. 

Of course, whenever you go out, you have your own guards and steel watch keeping you safe from anyone who’d wish to harm either you or him. All the other Lords and Ladies of Baldur’s Gate don’t dare say a mean word about you or your abilities, lest they wish to face the wrath of a peeved Gortash. 

As an inventor, Gortash invents the very first automatic, steampunk-esque wheelchair for you. It’s powered in the same way his Steel Watch is, and it is uniquely one-of-a-kind, tailor-made just for you. 

You know how in the game it’s hinted that Gortash basically stole and fucked his way into the high society of Baldur’s Gate? That many of the widowed Ladies gifted him lavish presents (like the deeds to their house?!) in response to whatever ‘relationship’ he had with them? Yeah. The man knows what he’s doing. And he does it well.

Your fitness level is no concern to him. The both of you will enjoy yourselves. He learns how to play the erogenous zones of your body perfectly, and in the event you’re too exhausted to play his, he has some, shall we say, special toys, he’s created just for himself. Course, should you ever ask, he’s more than willing to share them with you. ;)

Raphael: 

Switches between pampering you to badgering you about it.

When he’s feeling particularly generous, he makes a point to overindulge you, making sure you’re aware of how unselfish he’s being at the time. 

He’ll make sure you have not only whatever you need, but also, anything you should want. As a devil, he does have some magic up his sleeve, ready to take care of various aches and pains that you feel. 

Ensures no other beings in the House of Hope lay a finger on you. No, that’s a privilege for him and him alone. 

Of course, such benevolence from him comes at a price, so don’t expect the luxury to come freely, without strings attached. 

After he feels you’ve rested enough, he switches from being overly doting to being more curt, and even a bit cruel. 

You honestly don’t expect him to let you lounge all day, do you? Surely there’s a way you could make yourself useful to him. Your attention, your company, your body… there must be something of interest to him at the moment. Of course, Raphael won’t tell you outright what he wants, you have to figure it out for yourself each and every time. 

More than anything Raphael loves your adoration, your attention. Just sit with him in his office as he reads over the various contracts he has binding any number of sorry souls. Ask him questions, praise him. Tell him you think he’s brilliant… Darling just worship him. 

And after his ego’s been satisfied, he’ll go back to worshiping you. Relationships are all give and take after all. 

(And don’t worry if you’re too tired or in too much pain to perform well in bed. He’s certainly no good at it either lol.)

[silentium-symphony]

A Lamb in Wolf's Clothing (Link x Reader) SMUT

(a/n) hey ya'll! i'm so sorry for going MIA for a few months--as some of you may know, I have just recently graduated from college, so there are a lot of big changes happening in my life right now! i appreciate your continued patience with me :) this fic was commissioned by the lovely @mistressofdeathsblog! thank you for giving me such a fun prompt, I had a lot of fun trying smth new and I hope you enjoy it too!

before you start reading, please take special note of the cw below. also, please remember that this is not a healthy relationship you want to emulate and is written for the sole purpose of entertainment. if you are in a relationship that strips your autonomy and you feel unsafe bringing this issue up to the offending party/parties, please reach out to someone you trust. there is no power in staying if there is no freedom to leave. stay safe out there.

and ofc, since this is smut, minors do not interact with this piece.

cw: dubcon, afab!reader, ooc!link since i highly doubt Hylia's Hero would be so life-alteringly possessive of their lover, tp!link, reader being chased, reader being held against their will, blood, tight spaces, swearing, name-calling, dumbification kinda??, cunnilingus, doggy, mirror/standing sex

wc: 5k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Sweat and blood dribbled down your forehead, stinging your eyes with a salty, metallic bite. Thorn-kissed hands grasped and blindly waded through thick patches of bramble. The dark, bristling whips that surrounded you worked every exposed piece of skin into a raw, bloody mess quivering from the forest's cruelty.

You couldn't care less.

The birds overhead guffawed at your efforts as splotches of pale moon danced mockingly, titillatingly along the cold earth. You chased every moon patch with the frenzy of an escaped convict a morning away from freedom.

Because that's what you were, really.

The beginnings and ends of thoughts knotted and frayed into each other, flurrying your head into a cohesive garble. Just how big was this forest? It looked like a sprawling mess from the fortress you were locked up in, but it was absolutely impenetrable now that you were in the thick of it. It was as if the very woods were enchanted to keep you from ever escaping.

A ring of pain hooked the topside of your foot, propelling all of your momentum downwards and towards the forest floor. You couldn't even scream before you bashed your cheek through a thin layer of crusted mud. The cold soil caked your flushed cheeks--the only shred of relief you've felt since your mad sprint to freedom.

Your spine slinked up into a curl--a pathetic attempt to get up, to begin your chase again, but your battered body refused to endure further abuse. (E/C) eyes flitted about you, trying to interpret the shadows that danced and weaved through the trees.

Running in this state would be pointless. You dug your forearms and elbows to crawl towards an ivy overhang that promised hidden refuge and curled into as tight of a ball you could muster. The silky white dress he gifted you had been ripped past recognition. The airy fabric that once brushed your ankles now clung tightly to your blood-laced thighs, soiled from the toils of flight. You pulled your legs closer; your lungs fought for precious breath against your pounding heart.

What a shame. If only it weren't beating so fast, you might have heard the crack of a single twig located too close for comfort.

From several paces into the unseen was a pair of blue eyes misted over with sinful hunger; your quivering, shorn form was scintillating to watch and feasted his mind with imaginations more heart-racing than the last. Your blood, sweat, and tears mixing with your natural scent proved to be the most tantalizing olfactory cocktail, scattering his thoughts into overdrive.

He hated the rush he got from seeing you like this--lost and confused without his guidance through these nested thorns, yearning for warmth and safety he knew he could provide (and had been providing since you stumbled into his castle that fateful day).

Why did you leave him? Was he not enough for you? But he'd given you everything! Everything! Freshly made home-cooked meals, tailored clothes that hugged your form, a bed warmed by him, his body...

He could still feel the soft plush of your flesh sinking and dimpling in his hands as he thrust into you with the faux tenderness of a starved man. Your beautiful eyes locked with his own, only leaving to disappear into the back of your head. Your mouth agape to let the cutest sounds escape...

If you were happy with him, why were you leaving him?

Not waking up to your face smooshed into his pillows, not beholding you in all the pretty silk and ribbons he had lying around, not fucking you in every position you could possibly think of, not spending every waking moment with you...

Why, he'd rather die.

If it made you happy, he'd allow the ambrosial drippings of freedom to bead your lips.

If it made you happy, he'd let you delude yourself into thinking you were far enough from the castle to be away from him.

But only for now. Link prided himself on his chivalry and patience, but even that was growing thin from your incessant attempts of escape. He was going to have to show you why it was such a good idea to stay here with him, forever and ever and ever.

You were nodding off now, it seemed. The way your head kept dipping and rising in a futile attempt to stay wary was so adorable, he just had to ravish you right then and there! He had barely managed to stave off his intrusive thoughts as he stalked closer to you, still clinging closely to the dark cloak that hung off twisted branches.

You saw something shift from the corner of your eye; your neck snapped up and a croak clawed out of you.

"Who's there?!"

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Why was it so quiet?

Had it always been so quiet?

Where have the birds gone?

A familiar silhouette emerged from the trees.

"L-... Link..." Your throat, parched and scratched from heaving the cold night air, rang a voice unfamiliar to you.

Azure eyes that once beheld you with all the love in the world now stare back with deadpan coldness. Words need not be exchanged here; his presence alone blew any hope of escape in the next breeze that ruffled his fur.

A calculated step towards you retreated you further into your little alcove, a prayer that the ivy could take you in as one of its own on your lips. There was no telling what he was thinking, or how close to the edge he was. But that look, that hunger.

That familiar, craved look your body knew too well pulsed anxious tingles through your fingertips.

Another step.

Then another.

Another.

Finally,

He was here.

You could feel him, all of him--his hot breath against your arms, his fur bristling against your thigh, his warmth freezing your blood where it ran. You hadn't realized how much you were shaking until you heard the rhythmic shifting of ivy buzzing into your ear.

He pressed his head into your lap, prying you open to make way for him. And you sat there, obeying him like the perfect little doe you were. As he lazily dragged a tongue across your thigh, lapping at the dried blood that crusted your flesh, he looked up. Relief, adoration, love. That stifling comforting, possessive protective obsession love that he had so readily wrapped you in the moment he met you. For a moment, he looked like a lamb in wolf's clothing.

So many thoughts swirled inside you, your brain numbing to prevent overstimulation. But amongst the chaos, a single thought backdropped every complicated emotion you were feeling.

He had found you.

Had it not been for the blood drumming through your ears and temples, you would have thought time had frozen in this purgative state. He was splayed atop you now, seeming to rest from his hours-long stalking; he wasn't crushing you, but it was clear he had all the control in this dynamic. Any undesirable shift away from him, to preserve your own personhood, would most certainly have led to a 'gentle' nudge toward him.

A single cobalt eye lazily cracked open after a million years ticked by. His piercing gaze, though fringed with some life, made it abundantly clear that your race to freedom was placed at an indefinite standstill. He had never once snapped at you, but the fear lodged in your chest informed you not to test him further.

He hauled himself up, joints locked from inactivity popping to life as he arched into a long stretch. His carefree pose hinted at obliviousness--borderline forgiveness--to your impertinence, but you knew better.

Link never forgets.

He eyed you again with a sort of child-like excitement that twisted your gut into a sickening pattern. His tail arced to and fro, painting his excitement in broad strokes. He wedged his snout between the small of your back and the wall and firmly pushed you forward, scooting you a couple inches toward your prison home.

You knew better than to anger him.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Link's skillful navigation through the thorns was unimpeded by your clinging onto him. It had taken hours to get to where you once were, but a quarter of that time for the wolf. The gloomy castle you had called your home for months (years?) broadened into view until you could clearly see its spires puncture through occasional clouds. The moon, basking in its celestial sovereignty, jeered at your return.

Link slipped through a tiny crack in the iron-clad door, made by the wolf confident in its tracking and retrieving abilities. You slugged off him with practiced movements; a sound akin to obscene magic asundering flesh preluded your captor's transformation. Grisly black fur gave way to sand-blonde hair; the worn, patchwork shirt which heralded his humble beginnings as a rancher ran taut against the back you had spent several minutes clambering onto.

He continued looking ahead unblinkingly as you idled a few paces behind him, your chest constricting and mind frenzying with murky anticipation. Your nerves, frayed from adrenaline and brain-altering fear, now swam in the heavy nothingness of silence; you were a breath away from weeping before a tenor tone disturbed the still.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

Silently, you both moved through the halls, paying the torchlit shadows the special type of attention one gave to the mundane in moments choked with awkwardness. Worn, freshly torn hands bunched the hem of your dress until your knuckles whitened. A part of you wished to never reach your destination, preferring thickened stillness over the unpredictable inevitable. You rounded a familiar corner and gathered the shreds of your sanity to brace yourself for whatever may come.

The sullen wooden door gave way to the man's heave and you followed him in. A large bathroom decorated only with the essentials filled your view. As Link ran the faucet, your eyes absently glazed over the rickety plumbing he had installed to transport hot spring water to the tub. For the first time since his transformation, he turned to you.

"Strip."

His clear, authoritative tone cut sharper than any thorn that had shredded you. Eyes downcast, your fingers wrought the straps of your dress further, further down your shoulders. Your skin burned from your clammy fingers; you blamed it on the steam that had begun filling the corners of the room and ignored the heavy, heated stare placed on you by the male.

Link followed your dawdling, hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt and lifting it to reveal a stomach sculpted by years of farm work and adventuring. The straps of your dress coiled close to your elbows before settling by your ankles. Your hands immediately scattered to cover your exposed parts as Link finished undressing himself, his fully erect length blurred by warm mists and (eventually) a deftly wrapped towel.

He reached over to squeak the faucet shut; the comforting, monotonous lull of running water now halted to scant droplets. After pulling out the small basket of rags and soap, he sat on a bar stool and beckoned you with a lone finger.

"Come here. You're filthy."

You shuffled out of the shredded dress and forward, keeping your eyes trained on the end of the tub where he sat.  The wanton desire for a hot bath waived your concerns over the situation, dulling your fears enough to throw a leg over the edge and sink everything but the top half of your face below the water.

The warm panacea cloaked you in an elixir of ease, and a satisfied groan unintentionally lapsed your lips; your hand figuratively slapped over your mouth when the air honeyed into something...

Sinful.

Link dipped a small bucket into the bathwater and slowly poured it over your head, calloused fingers expertly combing through knotted, crusted strands. The hardened skin tenderly brushing the back of your neck jolted heated memories to the forefront of your mind.

You could still feel the harsh, almost desperate grip laced in your hair as he pounded you from behind, panting sweet promises to give you more for the rest of your lives. Your face, buried in his pillows, blindly nodded along to the specifics of what he had said, your mind too blurred to focus on much else aside from your umpteenth high of the night.

The warm water felt like a cold deluge and a noticeable shiver ran through you. Soapy hands stopped caressing your scalp.

"(F/N)?"

"H-Huh?"

"How about we play a little game?" Link murmured suddenly, absently twirling your locks in his fingertips. Had it not been for the taut fingers interweaved through your hair, your surprise would have been more apparent.

"What... What game?"

"A little game similar to hide-n-seek." He started languidly, as if savoring every vowel that lisped his tongue. "If you can evade my capture until dawn, I will guide you to the forest's edge so you may leave. However..."

Rough fingerpads traced up the side of your bicep as darkened ears caught your quiet, involuntary gasp.

"If I catch you... You're mine. Deal?"

Throat tightening and heart palpitating, your mind fought to keep its last ounce of calm as your captor's hand circled to your front to cusp and knead your--

"What's the catch?" You breathed, somehow managing to divert your attention away from Link's sinful reaches.

"There is no catch, but there are rules." He pecked your cheek, his lips curving into a soft smile that thinly veiled iller intents.

"You are allowed to hide anywhere in the castle grounds and use whatever means necessary to hide from me, so long as neither of us gets seriously injured... The moment you step foot in that forest, I will claim you where you stand. Is that fair?"

Was this a trick?

A sick joke meant to dangle tonight's failure in your face?

Surely it was... But what if it wasn't?

His steady stare that peered shamelessly through your soul conveyed a degree of seriousness and sincerity required to make a truthful statement.

"How do I know that you won't go back on your word?"

"I have never lied to you." He gritted his teeth. "Can you say the same?"

The genuine hurt masking his eyes ached your chest, but the tiniest shred of dignity you had left netted the apology that almost escaped your mouth.

"Is there anything else I should know before I make my decision?"

"No. I have told you everything you need to know and will uphold my end of the deal. The final decision is yours."

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Moonlight masqueraded through the gaping windows, streaking drab grey pillars with hints of alabaster. The halls which you have called home for what felt like time immemorial now crowded your vision with a foreign bite, sinking into your flesh an unnerving uncertainty around every corner.

Your neck swiveled on all axes, one eye trained in front of you and the other separating the benign from foe that hid in every dancing shadow. Bare feet pattering against olden stone filled the gaps in between each racing heart beat, drumming your ears in a never-ending symphony of chase.

Legs aching, quaking, begging for proper rest are promptly ignored, outcompeted by the more urgent matter at hand.

Your final gambit for freedom.

You cursed under your breath as you ascended a spiraling staircase, your lungs burning with the rage of a thousand suns from heaving in the cold, arid air. The stone floor kissed knicks into the soles of your feet as you skidded around a corner and madly dashed down the hall, shifting down a narrow crawlspace that branched off from the main hall.

Whispered hisses and curses bounced off the tightening walls as rough-hewn stone jagged into your skin, reopening recently closed wounds from the brambles. You could only pray that Link was far enough away to not pick up on freshly streaked blood.

A familiar carpet--the one from the main hall--filled your view and you slowed your shimmying into a momentary pause. You fought to see through your grimace to peer around the corner and hoped that your heart wasn't beating loud enough to mask the signs of your stalker.

All good...?

You scooted out of that uncomfortable position and ducked towards the exit.

The private gardens opened up to you. Trails of ivy found residence in the cracked grey of decayed walls and the fountain was spewing the most delicious water your parched throat had ever seen. You circled the mini courtyard, your frenzied mind shunting the garden's haunting aesthetics in search of a practical hiding place. To your right was the more open space of the main courtyard, and to your left were the untrimmed topiaries of Hyrulian heroes commemorated only in flora.

Streaks of morning were just beginning to tip the horizon.

Your feet teetered toward the right, but a certain non-human shadow slinked past the threshold. All color drained from your pallor as you scurried around the topiary's wide base and hid behind the cloister's stone pillar. The sounds of flesh ripping and reanimating shot through the air; tears began to freely flow as a carefree whistle ambled closer to you.

"My, my... It's almost daybreak. I must find my beloved soon, or else I'll lose her forever."

The sky was just beginning to tinge a magenta-red.

"Is she... Hiding by the door?"

Boots clicking against stone rang like a departed's dirges. Your clammy fingers dug into the side of your face--a feeble attempt to muffle your whimpering.

"Is she... Behind these topiaries? No? Hm... But I'm getting close, aren't I, (F/N)?"

All strength, all hope, had been sapped from your body; your knees locked and buckled.

"Oh? Have we always had a little walkway back here? What a wonderful surprise! I know my darling would love it here."

Your vision darkened.

Leather nestled softly into your face as the heat of another poured and mingled with the cold stone pressed to your back.

"Guess who?" He sang.

You felt all your muscles simultaneously release their tension; your legs folded in on themselves, but secure arms hooked them under and hoisted you bridal style.

As you were carted inside the dark fortress, the morning sun greeted you in its soft-rayed glory.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The stale castle air flooded your lungs as your body was unceremoniously tossed onto the bed. A hand tightened around your wrists and hot, agitated lips locked with yours before your brain could register the cotton plush of your sheets. His other hand feathered up your thigh, learned fingers grazing all your tender spots and teasing your thoughts into a foggy mix of want.

Your figure writhed uselessly under him as he flattened you further into the bed, using his full weight to keep you pinned where he wanted. The hand that carried out its sinful ministrations below shot up to seize your cheeks. Rough fingerpads bruised the softer flesh as he craned your neck to make way for his lips, flushed with a feral red and coated with soft proclamations of domination.

"You're mine... All mine..."

Hot breaths ghosted the surface of your neck, tickling a heated whine out of you. Your needy noises hitched into a gasp when you felt moistened lips lock onto your skin, suckling and teething the flesh into discolored patches. Rich vermilion fringed with a sinful violet bloomed below your jawline, trailing down and darkening with each claim closer to your chest.

He yanked the noisome dress down, exposing all of your chest to him. The snaps of cloth ripping from its handles and the sudden whip of cold air across your most sensitive parts pierced a jolt through your body. He pulled away to admire the shades of purple and red marring your fair complexion, a visual reminder to the dust haunting old halls and courtyards lost to time that you were his, and his alone. A lone tongue swirled around an irritated bud.

Trembles quaked through you--from heated anticipation or disgust, you were unsure. He hooked his fingers back into your cheeks and pried your face to look into his own. Sky-blue eyes, which once beheld you in crinkled happiness, had dimmed into a hazy navy clouded with lust.

"So pretty... My gorgeous, gorgeous girl."

Soft lips brushed your forehead, ambled down to your nose, and finally settled on your lips.

"My good girl."

Lips warmed with depraved whispers silenced around your bud. Starved suckling backdropped the more apparent whimpers scratching your throat, dredged in pleasure with a dulling edge of resistance. Scarred skin delicately cusped your mounds, tweaking and flicking your perkiness until it was a rosy red.

Your growing sensitivity stung tears into your eyes. Achy hands, now free from his grasp, grappled onto sinewy shoulders but did little to convey genuine discomfort. A deep groan purred from his chest as Link balanced your sore bud in a soft knead between his teeth. A pop filled the room.

"Let me see those eyes."

Your eyes wedged open to see blown-out blues taking all of you in. Your heart pounded a flush into your cheeks and christened an unholy flame to spread through your core.

"That's it... Now watch me..."

He dragged his body lower and lower, his eyes unwavering from yours for even a second. Steady hands balled into the collar of your dress and tore through the silk, the symphony of rips bouncing off the walls and knocking coherence out of your head. His lips matched the pace of the ragged unveiling and chased progressively exposed flesh with soft kisses, down, down, and farther down. Feverish breaths along your inner thighs sent chills up your spine.

"Watch me as I make you cum for me."

Hands gnarled from knighthood knotted into the delicate lace separating him from his prize, tearing it apart with ease.

"Link, hold--ah!"

Your eyes shot to the back of your head as your mouth gaped into a silent 'O.' An orchestra of colors, conducted by a madly indulgent maestro, symphonized into a crazed, otherworldly experience. His tongue coiled and stretched into you with the practiced precision of many amorous nights while his thumb circled the space around your clit, teasing the nub until agony. It was only a matter of time before your impassioned gasps and pleas competed with the downright sinful wetness Link lapped below.

"Tell me you love this--that you love me."

"Link, please! Just give it to me please, please, please...!" The top of your head rolled further into your pillow when the painful prick of a pinch shot too much for too short a time.

"Don't look away. Don't you dare look away, you filthy slut." Deft fingers plunged into you until pleasure fried your brain. "You'll cum when I tell you to."

Your whines and whimpers hiccuped into full sobs for release, whistled with pleas and promises you both knew you wouldn't keep.

"You'll love me forever, right? You'll be my good lil' cock slut forever, right?"

"Yes! Yes, I promise! Please Link, just let me cum already, please!"

You damn liar.

He pulled away, coldly gazing at the weeping, quivering, gasping mess of his beloved.

"Link...? W-why did you--"

"Your heart may have forgotten, but your body remembers..."

His sweet lips, tinted with a hint of bitter longing, moved with yours in a desperate, crazed dance. Every lust-filled, haggard groan ripped from his lungs masked the quieter crack running up his heart.

The bed creaked from the sudden redistribution of your weight as he spread you on all fours. He aligned himself to your entrance and, in a single motion that he had done hundreds of times, completed you. A wail, colored in pleasure and streaked with pain, contrasted Link's blissed-out groan. Tears brimmed the corner of your eyes; each droplet slipped down your cheek in time with his frenetic pounding until it had thickened into a steady stream.

He wasted no time in his pursuit for pleasure, hitching his pelvis to your ass, pulling away, and slamming back in with the gentleness of a starved wolf ripping into a lamb. His fingers dug crescents into your hips as he adjusted himself, propping one of his legs up to angle himself deeper and faster into you.

He was stretching you past your limits, and every thrust was accompanied by a heated flash of pain. Your upper half sunk towards the bed as he moved your hips higher, closer to him. Helpless (E/C)s stared at the creaking bedpost while your whitening knuckles dug through the sheets clumped in your hands. A salty mixture of tears and saliva pooled on your pillow as honeyed cries haunted your walls.

"What, is my princess not having a good time?" He jeered, reaching over to give your engorged clit a cruel flick and your ass an even crueler slap. "What does my baby want me to do to her? Huh? What do you want me to do to your tight pussy?"

"L-Link, It hurts! It's too--!"

The side of your quivering hips slammed into the mattress and forced you on your back. Your face snapped into the pillow when his writhing tongue replaced his thick cock, tonguing and lapping at your dripping pussy as if your ambrosia would be the last thing he was to taste. He pulled out and spat on your entrance, pressing his tongue flat against your pussy and swiping up towards the clit that he coiled.

"Mmph... Fuck, I love you... Give me more... Gods, give me more."

A bruising ache pressed into your hips as his frenzied circling spurred faster, faster, faster. Pleasure dizzied your senses towards a dark void; the familiar knot in your stomach that ached to unravel popped with the abrupt re-emergence of Link.

"Mm, tight as ever... How're you feeling, my dove?" He husked, ragged breaths encapsulating the shell of your ear.

"Too b-bi--Link, you're too big!"

"Shhh... You can take it. You've taken it hundreds of times. C'mon, squeeze my cock like a good girl."

"It's so--Link, you're stretching me out, I need to--"

"Not yet. I'm not done fucking you yet." He swiveled you back on all fours and pounded you into the mattress, your cries and pleas be damned. Slender fingers snarled through your tresses and strained you away from the pillows that held your screams.

"When I'm ready, I want to watch you cum all over my cock." His erratic pounding slowed for a split second, enough time for a certain thought to come and go. "I want you to see it too."

Your abused cunt finally had a moment to breathe and process; if only your brain had that same luxury.

The bed sighed a relieved groan as Link crawled out and wrapped his arms about your lower abdomen to hoist you up. When it was evident that this pathetically limp curl was the best you could do, toned forearms hooked under your knees and spread your legs in the most vulnerable position you've ever been in. With a huff, Link brought you front and center to the mirror. You both watched breathlessly as he lowered you onto his slicked cock, sinking every inch into your gummy walls.

"Fuck, you're so tight... I need you, (F/N)..."

His crazed pistoning began once more; the sensations that ransacked your body were unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. The tip of his cock so easily, so effortlessly rammed into your sweetest spots; every thrust he slammed into you turned you into a shamelessly shaking, overstimulated mess.

"Look at you," he hummed darkly, "look at all the sin running down your legs."

Link's voice was so far away now. The way he kept disappearing into your sopping cunt and your juices dribbling over your thighs consumed your every thought. The only tangible you could feel was the building pressure coiling in your gut, tightening with each passing second.

"So beautiful... So tight... Don't you want to do this forever? Hm? Don't you want to be ruined by me forever and ever?"

His teeth sunk into your neck, adding to the carnal collection and ripping a hoarse cry out of you.

"You're my good girl, aren't you? My good girl... You're all mine--all fucking mine."

Veins marbled his arms and forehead as he nuzzled into your neck, tongue tracing the edge of every bite. The labored grunts that occasionally wheezed out of him, along with his stuttering hips, signaled that he was teetering closer and closer to the edge. Hooded blues stared piercingly into your own, weighed down by mindless intoxication. His lips brushed a flame through the curve of your ear.

"Look at me..." He purred. "Look at me and confess your lust to me."

A shattered cry, followed by a wave of profane heat, collided with your system. Winced eyes lolled to the back of your head while you spasmed and twitched in still arms. Your violent clenching and knowledge of your release strained a guttural growl through Link's chest as he spurted his cum as deep as it could go. Thin, white threads coated your walls and trailed out your still-plugged hole until drips of sin stained the stone below.

Link tripped to the foot of the bed, his body folding into the sheets the second his foot made contact with the wooden post. With arms wrapped comfortably around you and the familiar presence of your spent lover, you passed out the moment your body recognized blissed finality.

As you commenced your near-immediate foray into the realm of dreams, a familiar voice--soft yet broken--rang through your last layer of consciousness.

"Sleep well, my dove. If eternally precarious possession is the closest thing we will ever have to love, I will gorge myself on it."

[klausysworld]

💌 Y/N receiving Nudes

🙋🏼🙋🏼🙋🏼✨

Giving and receiving

It started off a joke that they would send each other photos. Klaus had said sometimes he needed a little something extra to get him through the day and I laughed and told him he could dream on.

But he was right, when it went a few days between seeing each other, both of needed something to keep us going.

We would call, a lot. Clothing was always optional and I was often send special gifts which I could either wear or play with when we called.

It was on one of those calls when I had mentioned touching myself to the thought of him once already that day and he admitted to doing exactly the same thing. I teased him, saying I wish I had proof to which he groaned and promised ‘next time’.

Only 10 minutes after ending the call I received a photo of him in the shower, unfortunately only the waist up but very much appreciated nonetheless.

We saw each other properly the next day and I expressed just how much I loved the photo and wanted some more. He promised to send some if I returned the favour. Only issue was that I was a little reluctant, I trusted Klaus to the ends of the earth but he was awful at setting secure passwords to his phone and Kol especially liked to browse through Klaus’s phone just to piss him off. I didn’t fancy him scrolling across some private content.

Klaus had whined and let me set up a new password but I wasn’t 100% sure and so he let it go.

However it didn’t stop him from sharing. After 1000 years he was was very happy in his body and his confidence was through the roof.

All the photos were originally just above the waist, always shirtless of course and often fresh out the shower or during. Always dripping wet and teasing that I should come lick him dry.

And then the day came that I returned the image with one of myself in my underwear, full body. I was immediately video called to an overly eager Klaus.

And from there it only got better.

Underwear only pictures became common and then Klaus took it up a level with the fully nude photos. The first time, i immediately grabbed my shoes and showed up at his house making him laugh and drag me to bed.

That night I had allowed him to take photos of me throughout the night, he begged to have one of me with his dick in my mouth and eventually I agreed after snapping many photos of him doing whatever I wanted.

And then after every photo one of us send even semi naked, the other would reply with a very explicit one until one of us couldn’t handle it anymore and either called or turned up at the others bedroom door.

It was a dangerous game when one of us would send knowing the other was busy, usually me choosing to tease him while he was at a business thing but occasionally him if I was doing something important.

It was often that I’d get an under-table shot of his hand on his cock while he told me he missed me.

‘Me or my cunt?’

‘Can’t it be both?’

It was always both, plus my mouth. But it’s not like I was thinking any differently about him.

[teardrop-scales]

Macaque x Reader headcannons 🌙🎭

A.N: Okay, I'm not dead, hooray! I just lost motivation for LMK. This is just an exception because my bestie really loves Macaque, so this is my gift for her; PLEASE NOTE THAT REQUESTS ARE STILL CLOSED. Also, my bestie is the author of the art (@kiss-my-ass-2137 - that's her blog btw). One more thing: please beware that my Macaque may be ooc as hell. Also note that the reader is based on my bestie, so this is quite specific and may not be everyone's cup of tea. Not proofread.

I can see him calling you 'plum', 'babe', 'gem' or 'sweetheart' often. However, contrary to Wukong, he also quite often calls you by your name. To him your name sounds pretty and he likes using it just as much as he likes nicknaming you.

He adores how social and outgoing you are. Sometimes Macaque just can't understand how you manage to get along with practically everybody, but that is one of the traits that made him fall in love with you.

He makes sure that you always have VIP seats and access to each of his shadow plays.

Like Wukong, Macaque is also a flirt, but he's a lot more suave and suggestive than Monkey King.

He tries not to get jealous each time you give someone else your attention and have fun with someone else. However Macaque is a pretty jealous person, so most likely he will just stand brooding in the corner, maybe sometimes let a small smile of adoration at seeing you socialize so easily.

But thanks to that, Macaque always feels like the most special person on the planet each time you give him your undivided attention.

By the way, congrats for making this man fall for you. He has a lot of trust issues and is usually pretty closed off underneath that flirty and sassy exterior. So making Macaque fall in love with you is by no means an easy task.

You have to be patient with him; give him some time to open up and try not to rush him. It may take some for him until he becomes comfortable enough to do all the lovey-dovey things that couples do, especially with touch. But he's trying, I promise you.

He may not look like he is, but he is attentive and caring.

He wants to know everything about your interests and hobbies, no matter what they are. Macaque wants to know all about the things that make you happy.

You have a favorite movie or cartoon or whatever? Great, he'll watch it.

You play games or video games? Well, I don't really see him as a big fan of that, but... He once saw you play Genshin Impact. You mentioned that game to Macaque a few times before, but this was the first time he'd seed you actually play it. The graphics and designs of the characters mesmerized him + he knew you loved it so he decided to give it a try.

You helped him a bit in the early stages, but surprisingly or not, Macaque got the hang of it pretty quickly. Like a natural.

He loves this game (I think both Wukong and Macaque would love genshin, but for different reasons probaly). Especially lore, character's stories and the plot. Don't get him wrong, the fights are cool, but Mac is a theatre kid. Of course he's going to focus on and like the plot more, especially since genshin is quite well thought out and interesting in that aspect.

Macaque will also gladly watch all your favorite shows and movies with you. He loves how passionate you are about them.

He likes going out for dates, but because of his sensitive hearing, he prefers more quiet places, or dates around nature or something like this.

He will roll his eyes if you throw any suggestive jokes at him, sometimes if he's in a good mood he may retort with one of his own. That also applies to normal jokes and general banter.

Macaque will also immediately offer to deal with any person who wrongs you or makes you upset. But knowing Macaque, that wouldn't end well, so please stop him from that. Tell him that you appreciate it but don't let him find that person.

What's that? You ride on horses? Well, consider him impressed a bit. He won't try it himself no matter how hard you try to convince him, but as long as there's not many people around and he's free at the time, he'll watch you do it. He may even use his shadow portals to save you from falling off a horse; he'll create a portal to shorten your landing.

Also, he'll often use his powers to suddenly appear beside you without warning. He likes to sneak up behind you and say 'boo' or something like that. He'll chuckle if he manages to surprise you.

But he won't use his shadow portals to teleport you to him without warning you first or your permission. He actually respects you and knows that you may be doing something important and that you have other matters to attend to.

Like I've mentioned, he has sensitive hearing. And while he can control that so he doesn't suffocate as much in daily life, he'll be grateful and will appreciate it if you watch the tone and volume of your voice when around him. He'll say it's not necessary, but on the inside he'll love you forever for being so considerate.

May not be a big fan of cuddling at first. He'll allow it but he'll be very stiff at first and only over time Macaque will get used to it and will start to enjoy cuddling with you.

He knows what kind of effect his voice has on you. And he'll use that knowledge to his advantage, often teasing you by speaking right into your ear with a low, almost husky tone or chuckling smoothly right by your ear.

Like I said before, this man probably has severe trust and abandonment issues. But that will only make him even more dedicated to you. He wouldn't want you to feel like he used to feel deep inside before he met you.

Overall, I think Macaque would be a very good and dedicated boyfriend if you give him time and show him that he can trust you.

[inkdrinkerworld]

ugh beefy!james that does everything for you and spoils the life out of u but not for antiquated reasons he’s j so obsessed w you it gave him every love language x1000

yes omg!!! james is the perfect man to help you beat the daddy issues allegations

james likes spoiling you. he likes going out and randomly seeing things you’d like and just getting them for you.

so he does it.

at one point you’d been sure that james had gifts stockpiled just to give them to you.

but now, you’re just used to it.

he’d been on the road for the last couple of games, playing across the country and you’d missed him.

that didn’t stop james from getting you stuff though.

he came back to the apartment with an extra bag and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“james potter,” you start, a grin breaking out on his face.

“no c’mon, i missed you and everything reminded me of you. ‘specially in wales.”

you’d told james of the slight obsession you’d had with the country during your teen years, and like always he never forgot.

“alright,” you slide the casserole in the oven before turning to him. “i missed you too.”

he nods, all smug and self assured. he wastes no time setting the bag on the counter and taking out some stuff.

“i got you a new mug,” it was a red with a dragon handle- similar to the one on the wales flag.

“jamie,” you kiss his wrist. you’re unaccustomed to this- the gifts ‘just because’ but over the last two years, james had made it his mission to get you acclimated to it.

he likes spoiling you.

“there’s some journals too, moleskin or something,” he takes out four, and you notice that they’re embossed. “got one of shop keepers to do it for me.”

“please say that’s it,” james laughs then. he kisses you before pulling away.

“two more things,” he promises. “got this, from scotland,” it’s an enamel lily brooch and you gasp. it’s delicate and you’re not sure on what you’ll be putting it on but it’s lovely.

“james,” your arms are around his neck and your boyfriend is glad for his core strength at the surprise attack.

“angel, it’s nothing.” he says and you huff.

“s’not nothing,” you kiss his cheek and then just the underside of his jaw. “you always think of me, always. and i appreciate it.”

james coos, “i know you do, s’why i keep doing it. i like spoiling you, you deserve it.”

you nod, scratching the nape of his neck. “thank you.”

“got one last thing,” he says and you nod, “this one is small, but it’s for your keychain.”

james brandishes a little charm that looks strikingly close to the loch ness monster.

“james,” you start, your boyfriend setting your ass on the counter as he stands between your legs. “you’re the most thoughtful man i’ve ever met in my life.”

james blushes, his lips brushing against your cheek and jaw. “you deserve it. and you spoil me just as much.”

you frown and james rolls his eyes, “you always make me my favourite food, give me massages, bake all my favourite things and you always get me something from the bookstore’s charm stuff.”

“oh hush,” you say but james laughs, kissing you slowly.

“c’mon let’s go shower and have dinner together yeah?”

his hand massages the dough of your thigh, eyes boring into yours as he waits for your, “alright loverboy, let’s go.”

[valkyyriia]

Day 11: Reflections in the Waves (of Pleasure)

Kinktober 2024 Prompt List | Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 1947 CW: Mirror Sex, PiV, Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Long-Suffering Sebastian, Voyeurism Pairing: Comte de Saint-Germain x Reader Prompt(s): Mirror Sex | Oral

Notes: The urge to have Sebastian call himself ‘one hell of a butler’ was strong but I did resist. Not enough to keep it out of the notes, though…

NEW: Want to be tagged when I post new fics? Submit the form here!

“The mirror you requested has finally arrived, Monsieur le Comte,” Sebastian said when he entered the room, delivering the day’s mail to the vampire noble as he normally did. “Masters Napoleon and Leonardo helped me bring it upstairs to le Mademoiselle’s room.”

Comte smiled, pleased. “Thank you, as always, Sebastian,” he replied. “I always appreciate your hard work. I’m sure it was heavy.”

Sebastian bowed and left the room, promising to bring up tea shortly. “There’s no need,” Comte said, standing up and shrugging on his long overcoat. “I’ve a few things to do before she gets home, so I’d hate for it to go to waste.”

For the first time this month, you were actually doing your job. You had left with Isaac earlier this morning to do the shopping. Conveniently, the mirror had come in not long after you left, so it was still a surprise.

Comte immediately made his way to your room, pushing open the door to inspect the craftmanship. Normally he’d show a bit more decorum; Comte was a gentleman, truly, and would not deign to enter a woman’s room without knocking first. However, he needed to make sure the piece was up to his lofty standards before you got home to see it.

A few weeks ago, you had made an offhand comment to le Comte about not having a mirror quite long enough to be able to see your shoes with your dress unless you were standing far away, and even then you could barely see due to the distance. Comte’s eyes widened incredulously. How had he not considered that would be an issue? This was a travesty!

Thus, in true Comte de Saint-Germain fashion, he had immediately contacted a metalsmith and commissioned a large, gilded mirror. The thing was truly a work of art; it was nearly large enough to cover an entire wall, and richly decorated in golden filigree and gemstones. The metalsmiths had outdone themselves. The mirror was so grand in its design, it frankly wouldn’t be out of place amongst the treasures of Versailles.

He hoped you would be pleased when you saw it.

Smiling to himself, Comte went to call a carriage. He would meet you in town, treat you to a nice lunch, and bring you home to show you the gift he had gotten you. Maybe he would buy you a few new dresses, too. He had an excuse this time, after all; you needed to try out your new mirror.

Oh, he simply couldn’t wait.

You and Isaac had just finished up the grocery shopping when you heard a familiar tenor call your name from behind.

“Comte?” You asked, turning around, startled. Your eyes were wide, but the smile that broke out across your face was wider when you saw him.

“I thought I would surprise my lovely partner by meeting her in town,” Comte said, walking over to you and kissing your hand in greeting. “It’s good to see you as well, Isaac,” Comte added, turning his smile to the other vampire. “I was going to ask if you’d like to join us for lunch?”

Isaac, true to himself, blushed something fierce. “I thank you, for the offer, but I’ll bring the shopping home. You two have fun.” Before you could so much as protest, the physicist had taken your bags and flagged down a carriage.

You watched him go, feeling somewhat guilty. The guilt was replaced with giddy happiness when Comte tucked your hand into the crook of his elbow. “Allow me to treat you today, ma chérie.”

You finally returned to the mansion a few hours later as the sun was just beginning to set over the woodline. You were somewhat proud of yourself; you had managed to talk Comte down to just four new dresses instead of the ten he had wanted to buy. You had a sneaking suspicion that the vampire had gone ahead and purchased the other six anyway, to be delivered later on, but you would take the small victories when they came.

Comte, ever the gentleman, refused to let you carry a single thing. “What kind of partner would I be if I made you carry the gifts I purchased for you? I’ll not hear a word of it, chérie.”

The guilt you felt before resurfaced when you entered the mansion’s foyer and saw Sebastian dusting the wall sconces.

“Welcome home, Monsieur le Comte, Madame le Comte,” Sebas greeted, adding emphasis to your own name. Your cheeks flushed in a mixture of embarrassment and indignation, the guilt replaced with irritation. Comte chuckled at your side and moved a hand to the small of your back to guide you up the stairs.

“Thank you, Sebas,” Comte said over his shoulder. “We’ll be down for dinner later this evening.”

“Yes, I’m sure you will,” Sebas muttered under his breath. If le Comte heard him, he made no indication of it.

When you had made it to the residential hallway and stopped in front of your door, you knew something was up. Usually, you would join le Comte in his own chambers for the evening since his suite was far more spacious. The only true downside was the way Leonardo would sometimes barge in, though the Italian polymath had taken to knocking before entering as of late.

You briefly wondered why.

Before you could go further down that line of thought, you shook your head. “Abel,” you addressed your partner. “What did you do?”

Le Comte smiled elusively. “Whatever do you mean, ‘what did I do’? I’m afraid you’ll need to be more specific, chérie.”

You rolled your eyes. “You met me in town. Took me to lunch. Bought me more dresses. Let me win an argument over how many dresses you were allowed to buy me.” You raised an eyebrow. “And now we’re back at my room. You never bring me back to my own room unless you’ve plotted something.”

“Don’t I?” Comte asked innocently. “Can’t I spoil my darling partner with a spontaneous date just because I felt like it?”

“You can,” You conceded. “But you don’t.”

Comte just laughed, gesturing to your door. You eyed him suspiciously but obeyed him anyway, opening the door. Immediately, your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. “You didn’t,” you accused, turning back to him. “Really?” You asked.

Comte followed you inside and shut the door behind him, locking it. “You said you couldn’t see your shoes in the other one. That, mon amour, was inexcusable.”

You just shook your head. Two of Comte’s favorite things were spoiling you and fashion. He particularly enjoyed spoiling you with fashion. You supposed you weren’t really surprised that this was something he viewed necessary. You sighed and conceded.

“Thank you, Abel,” you smiled. “It’s beautiful. I suppose this is why you insisted on the dresses?”

“And also why I agreed to only four,” Comte added, pulling you to him for a peck on the lips. “I feared ten would have been far too obvious.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly and leaned in for another kiss, which Comte was all too happy to give. The kisses quickly grew hotter and heavier. You parted your lips and Comte eagerly teased your tongue with his, his hands moving to your hips and pulling you closer. He squeezed your ass and you gasped into his mouth.

Your eyes lazily drifted open and you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. You flushed and pulled away from Comte, your palms flat on his chest. He looked down at you curiously.

You cleared your throat awkwardly before whispering, “the mirror.”

Comte raised an eyebrow.

“I can see us,” you grumbled. He chuckled lowly, sending heat pooling in your belly.

“I hadn’t purchased this mirror with quite that intention in mind, but,” he smiled deviously. “That’s another good use for it.”

Ten minutes later found Comte seated in your desk chair, his front to your back, buried to the hilt inside of you. He had his arms under your knees and was lifting you up and down on his cock. He had spread your legs wide, leaving your cunt on full display in the wall-sized mirror. You bit your lip as he moved you, his length gliding smoothly in and out of your body.

“Look at yourself, chérie. See how beautiful you are when you’re taking my cock?”

Your original hesitance was long gone; instead, your eyes were fixated on the lewd sight of him disappearing within your entrance. Comte’s cock glistened in the candlelight, your slick coating him thoroughly as he sunk deep inside you with each movement.

Your eyes briefly flickered up to the reflection of his face. Comte smiled coyly at you as you did so; the vampire was far more interested in watching your face as you took him, your eyes glazed over in lust and your mouth falling open in pleasure.

His lips drifted to the sensitive flesh underneath your ear and he kissed there. You shuddered, your legs involuntarily falling wider as he did so. Comte chuckled, his breath ghosting over the lobe of your ear. He took the lobe between his blunted teeth, careful to avoid breaking the skin with his fangs. Comte nibbled there before dragging his lips down the side of your neck, his fangs barely grazing the flesh.

You cried out in pleasure as the vampire latched onto your skin, sucking harshly on the flesh there without piercing it. An orgasm ripped through your body like the incoming tide as he slammed you harshly down on his cock. Your eyes focused on where your bodies were joined as he too met his climax, his groan resonating against your skin. You watched as your cunt pulsated, drawing twitch after twitch from Comte’s length. Each pulse of his cock resulted in a flood of warmth deep inside you. He drove himself somehow deeper with a grunt, his sweaty forehead falling against the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

After what felt like an eternity, Comte pressed a kiss to your shoulder and slipped from within you. What followed was a trickle of fluid, a mixture of his own come and your slick, dripping out of you and onto his softening cock. You inhaled sharply.

Comte laughed breathlessly, slowly lowering your legs. “I think we found something new you like, non, ma chérie?”

“Fermez-la,” you snapped at him petulantly.

His laugh just grew louder.

Sebastian knew better. He truly did.

Rather than prepare a full meal, the butler resigned himself to his fate. Steeling himself, he prepared a few cold cut sandwiches and placed them alongside a bottle of Rouge on a silver serving tray. Carrying them upstairs, he repeated his mantra in his head.

All he had to do was leave it outside the door. He didn’t have to see them. He didn’t have to hear them.

He hoped.

He breathed in deeply. He can do this.

He was a fantastic butler. So what if his employer was sleeping with his coworker? He can maintain decorum and -

“Look at yourself, chérie. See how beautiful you are when you’re taking my cock?” Comte’s voice drifted through the crack of the door.

Sebastian swallowed thickly.

Luck was not on his side today.

Sebastian didn’t fancy himself much of a voyeur, but-

He shook his head. No. He was not getting into those thoughts.

He quickly, but neatly, placed the tray outside the door. Standing up and straightening his bowtie, Sebastian retreated back to the safety of the kitchen, pointedly ignoring the tightness in his pants.

So what if he later purchased a smaller, floor-length standing mirror for his own personal use?

Dividers by @/natimiles

Taglist: @natimiles @queengiuliettafirstlady @candiedcoffeedrops @goddesswitchmother @candied-boys

@fang-and-feather @faustianfascination

Want to be added? Submit the form here.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

yay!! the gift has been gifted, so here's the little ficlet i wrote for @thefreakandthehair's wedding gift zine!!! congratulations Lex!!!!!

pairing: steddie | word count: 1,313 | rated: G | on AO3: it started with the oven

It started with the oven.

Well, with him complaining about the oven, to be specific. The house those government folks put them up in after everything happened last year was new to them o’course, but nowhere near brand-spankin’. Still had some issues to work out.

“Sorry boys, roast might be a bit crispy on one side. Damn oven is acting up again.” 

Wayne didn’t notice it that first time, but Steve immediately perked up, the look completely throwing off his attempted casualness about what he said next.

“I can help you fix it if you like.”

Without even looking at his nephew, Wayne knows they’re both giving Steve twin looks of confusion.

“You know how to fix an oven? How in the hell do you know how to fix an oven?” Eddie asks, half incredulous, half actually curious.

“I uh…had to figure it out once when ours went out…”

Wayne could hear the rest of that statement clear as day, though Steve stayed quiet after that. “It was either that, or go hungry.” Those goddamn Harringtons…

“Sure thing son, let's let it cool down and we can take a look at it.”

By time dinner is over, Eddie’s disappeared, back to his room to do god knows what while he and Steve pull the oven away from the wall.

The longer they work, the quieter Steve becomes. Knowing what he knows now, it was the nerves about what he wanted to ask, but to the Wayne in the moment, it was just nice to get some help around the house without also hearing loud complaining.

Steve tells Wayne what he’d done before to fix his, and Wayne gives him a couple other tips with other potential problems, and soon, the oven is once again able to heat evenly.

“Looks good, kid,” Wayne says, clapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder once they’ve got the thing pushed back where it goes.

He turns to put away his tool box, leaving the young man to do whatever it is he normally does with his nephew (gross), when Steve’s voice stops him.

“Wayne?”

“Hm?” 

Steve falls quiet again, so Wayne turns, taking in Steve’s uncharacteristically anxious demeanor and now pale complexion.

“I–” Steve looks him in the eye, but only briefly. His gaze drops to the dirt on his hands, which he brushes off. “Nothing, just–thanks.” he finishes with a small smile, heading down the hall immediately after.

Wayne shrugs, going back to his toolbox. Odd. But whatever; glad to be of help with…whatever it was he helped with.

—

The next time, it was the front porch.

Luckily not ‘cause of anyone fallin’ through or anything, just about high time he got those front few planks replaced before someone does.

He says as much to his boys at dinner a few weeks after he and Steve fixed the oven, and Eddie volunteers himself for moral support.

“You just wanna see me shirtless and sweaty.” Steve accuses.

“Correct. Moral Support.” Ed sweeps his hand out and leans back in his chair.

“Do I hafta be shirtless too?”

Both boys loudly protest in answer, fake gags and all.

He and Steve get to work tearing out the old rotted boards a couple days later, and as expected, Eddie makes himself scarce within an hour. Something about “You guys workin’ this hard is making me thirsty. I’m gonna go grab milkshakes.”

“Moral Support my ass...” Wayne mumbles, shaking his head fondly.

Again, not long after Eddie’s gone, Steve’s easy conversation peters off; and again, Wayne just assumes he’s not quite used to being around him alone, or that he just prefers comfortable silence over chatter (something Wayne himself can appreciate).

He does come back in, however, after a long lull. “Wayne, I wanted to ask…”

Wayne doesn’t find out what Steve wanted though, as Eddie’s van rattles up the road at that moment, the promise of a cool treat too good to pass up for chattin’ with his boyfriend’s Uncle.

Though, as he watches Steve help Eddie out of the van, grabbing the milkshakes (and a quick kiss) from his boy, Wayne thinks he already knows what it is Steve was gonna ask.

And what his answer would be.

—

The third and final time was definitely the time.

This time, there was no pretense. Wayne and Steve weren’t already working on something together, no current excuse to talk without Eddie nearby. It was a Thursday evening and Wayne was alone at home about to head in for a shift.

Opening the door to a knock was weird though. Steve basically lived here, so opening the door to his wide-eyed, pale face was a shock.

“Steve? What’re knocking for, boy?”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just–I’m–”

“You ‘right, son? C’mon inside now..” Wayne coaxes the kid inside, and Steve takes his shoes off automatically, lining them up along the messy pile of Eddie’s shoes just inside the door.

“Eddie’s at the Emersons’ y’know.” Wayne says, plopping back into his previously abandoned armchair.

“Y-yeah, I know, I just dropped him and Henderson off there for their game.”

They both fall quiet then. 

Steve rubs the back of his neck nervously, and Wayne waits patiently.

…Okay, maybe not that patiently.

“Now look, Steve, not that I don’t appreciate spendin’ time wit’cha, ‘cause I do, but it seems t’me you came here for a reason.”

Steve’s gaze snaps up, mouth agape. “How’d you–nevermind.” he clears his throat and continues.

“Mr. Munson–”

“Nope, none’a that, not even for this. M’name’s Wayne, son.” He enjoys throwing Steve off sometimes, alright? Sue him.

All the breath in Steve’s lungs seems to escape at once and he smiles slightly, visibly relaxing just a tad. 

Good.

“Wayne, Eddie and I have been dating for over a year now…obviously…you know that..”

“Is that what you two’ve been doin’? I thought you two were just the best of buds.”

This time, Steve actually laughs. “Shut up, I’m nervous, okay?”

“I know y’are, kiddo.”

He takes another settling breath, much calmer now, and continues. “I love him, Wayne. More than anything in my life.

“I know it’s not for real, I know, but I want him, and you, to know that I mean this to be forever. That if I could, I would marry him tomorrow.” Steve chuckles to himself at that, “Probably would’ve months ago, to be honest.

“All this to say—to ask! Ask…” he shuffles nervously again.

‘You got this, Steve, you’re almost there.’ Wayne thinks encouragingly at him.

As if he could hear him, Steve steels himself, looks Wayne in the eye, and (finally) says:

“Wayne, I would like your blessing to propose to Eddie.” He takes another short breath and presses on. “And I don’t want to hear anything about “Why’re you askin’ me, he’s not my kid.” or some crap, either. You’re the most important person in his life, and always will be. It may not be important to you, but it is to me… That you approve, I mean.”

Okay, he knew it was coming. But the added impassioned (and unnecessary) speech that came with it was a surprise. As if Steve was willing to fight Wayne for thinking Wayne wasn’t important to Eddie. 

He stands, hefting himself out of the sunken springs of his chair, and immediately pulls Steve in for a hug.

“Good speech, son.” he says, squeezing the kid tightly for a moment before adding on, “Though I don’t think there was a single question mark in that whole rant o’yours.”

Steve laughs into his shoulder, beaming his wide bright smile when they separate.

“Do I have your blessing or not, old man?” he snarks, pulling a bellowing laugh out of Wayne.

“That’s more like it!” He claps a hand onto Steve’s shoulder. “And of course y’have it, Steve…

“I’d be proud to call you a Munson.”

you can read this one and the whole rest of the collection here!

[koitarou]

|| fatherhood. ||

girldad!kiyoomi x fem!reader; wc: 1.2k of pure struggle; cw: reader is not present in the picture, imagine whatever happened to her, mid 50s kiyoomi, sad ish?, im thawing out cut me some slack, kiyoomi is a gorl dad missing you a/n: fuck you kevin hart, i wanted to watch a comedy movie and not BAWL. alexa play daddy issues

Kiyoomi guesses it’s been a while since he has missed you. 

Kokomi takes up every minute, every second he has to offer— not that he minds it. Maybe sometimes he hates it, hates being so preoccupied with her that forgets to miss you. The last thing he wants to do is forget you, even when he is old enough that his already greying hairs start to fall out.

You’ve been gone for long enough that he has forgotten what you felt like in his arms, how you smelled when he hugged you close to his chest. He hates that his senses are giving up on him.

But he hasn’t forgotten everything about you. He hasn’t forgotten the way you rolled your eyes at him whenever you disagreed, how you always latched onto his arm whenever you got scared watching a horror movie, how you kissed his forehead twice for each mole he has— because she does the same.

Kiyoomi is glad to have Kokomi in his life because everytime he looks at her, he sees you. It’s not a stretch when someone asks if he misses you and he says no, because he never will. He might forget what you feel like but he will never forget you, the you who gave him the best gift in the world, his daughter, his baby. 

The more she grows up, the more she resembles you. As he grows older, he sees Kokomi growing older and it’s bittersweet. He’s proud of her for everything she’s achieved in her life and proud of himself for bringing up his amazing daughter. It was tough at first, balancing his career and her, but with everyone's help, it was possible. It takes a village to raise a child, but what good is a village if it has no head. That’s what he felt like when he was just starting out, he felt lost without you to help him. He had his team, his village, to support him through thick and thin but he used to miss you. 

As the team grew and so did your daughter, he realised everything was indeed good. He feels proud of them as well, Atsumu, Bokuto, Hinata, Komori, everyone. 

He likes to believe you would’ve been proud too— of Kokomi, of the team. 

But he especially misses you today. Seeing your daughter off to college, he remembers your face glowing when you used to talk about milestones of your baby’s life and her going to college.

“Kiyo, she’s gonna be amazing I know it.”

“Yes baby, she will be,” “You have to lay off her though.”

“What”

“I know you'll be crying the day she goes to college and fussing all over her. Ugh, especially with boys”

“No, I won’t. Except boys, I don’t trust those hormone ridden monsters”

“Of course you don't, darling. Because you never were one, right? You were a toddler and straight up went to being an adult.”

And then you rolled your eyes at him the same way Kokomi is doing right now, “Dad, I’m going to be honest with you, I can’t swear off boys. I just can’t–”

“Yes, you can. Promise me.”

“Dad—

“Promise me that you’ll be my little girl forever, never leaving me, ever.”

“We’re literally standing in front of my dorm room. You’re gonna have to leave at some point.” She narrows her eyes at him, still holding onto his hand.

He notices that. There were a lot of things he saw of you in her but she was his daughter too, he notices the way she’s picking at her nails, a nervous habit she’s has had ever since she was 5. She doesn’t want him to leave, not with the grip she has on his hand. 

“You know I am here for you, right?”

“Yes, dad and I love you too.” Never good at words but they both managed, understood each other even though you weren’t there to do the talking for him.

“He’s bein’ mean again, y/n!”

“Tsumu you know he doesn’t mean that, he appreciates the thought you put into this gift.” “Yeah, I’m surprised he could think at all”

“Kiyo!– Tsumu, he means it’s great, he’s just affectionately dumb.”

He takes in a deep breath, the tingling sensation at the back of his throat feels familiar and he lets out a chuckle because he’s really going to cry now. Standing at her dorm room’s door, his heart feels heavy, and he’s looking at her now, ready to start a new chapter of her life, all on her own.

He cups her face and plants a kiss on her forehead, “One for me–” He kisses her temple, his hand holding the back of her head as she reaches out for a hug, “–and one for mom.”

She’s holding onto him tightly now, her fists balled up with the back of his jacket balled up in her fists, she mumbles, “I’m gonna miss you so much, dad. Promise to visit me, please?” 

“Every weekend, Kokomi, I promise.” He smiles and wraps his arms around her, cradling her head as he lets his jacket soak up her tears. He feels happy and he knows you would’ve been happy too and that’s all he needs to know.

Kokomi starts to draw back but he tightens his grip on her, and with a shaky voice, he whispers, “Give your old man a few more minutes more, please sweetheart.” 

Kokomi hums and they both stand there silently, until she breaks the silence with a ‘hey dad?’ and this time Kiyoomi hums in response, pulling away to look at her and finally let go.

“Mom would’ve been really proud of you.” 

Oh.

Kiyoomi doesn’t realise he is crying until he tastes the salty tears in his mouth and Kokomi wipes his cheeks, “And I am proud too. One more thing–” With a smile as she goes on her tippy toes to kiss his moles, “–One from me and one from mom.” 

Kiyoomi guesses it’s fine he didn’t miss you a lot, he never had to.

“And dad?”

“You weren’t serious about the ‘here every weekend’ thing though, right?”

“How much do you wanna bet at least one of your uncles will be here every weekend?”

Kokomi begins to whine in defiance to his response but is interrupted by a wailing Atsumu rushing towards them with Hinata, Bokuto and Komori in hot pursuit.

“Our baby’s all grown up!” Atsumu cries from behind Kiyoomi, sniffling and pushing him out of the way as he rushes to bring Kokomi into a bear hug and pats her head rather desperately, “Don’t forget about us, yeah?? And don’t forget us, we’re all here for ya. Also boy’s are disgustin’, ya won’t like ‘em anyways–”

“Why’s everyone obsessed with tha-”

In a flash, she’s squashed between 4 middle aged men bawling their eyes out and preaching they’re thoughts and views and promising to lay their lives down for her as she starts tearing up with them, telling them to take care of each other as well as her father since she won’t be there everyday.

Looking at this scene, Kiyoomi thinks his village did just fine. Plus he guesses it’s okay he didn’t get to miss you a lot because he believes it’s better to never not stop thinking about someone than miss them.

And he thinks– no he knows, you’re proud of him.

☆⌒ (ゝ。∂) ©️ all credits belongs to @koitarou 2022, do not repost, modify or translate my work on any platform. Plagiarism is strictly forbidden.

☆reblogs, likes and comments are super appreciated!

[songbirdseung]

PS5 / choi yeonjun

The air was heavy with a mix of frustration and disappointment as Choi Yeonjun's girlfriend, Y/N, watched him intently, her gaze fixed on the glowing screen of his PS5 console. She had given it to him as a surprise gift, hoping it would bring them closer together, but instead, it had become a wedge between them.

Yeonjun, once a social and attentive boyfriend, was now spending his free time engrossed in virtual worlds, his eyes glued to the screen, his fingers dancing across the controller. Y/N's invitations to go out or spend time together were often met with excuses of 'just one more game' or 'I'm almost done'.

You loved admiring your lover, seeing the different facial expressions they would make to daily life scenarios, or the sparkle in their eyes when they are invested in something they are so passionate about. But today was not one of those days.

You enjoyed filming (with consent of course) him and fill your gallery with silly videos of him and his reactions to certain things. Like that time, you gifted him a PS5 for just a random appreciation gift. That day he could not stop clinging onto you and thanking you. You have videos of him playing for the first few times and him whining frustratedly. Videos where he would be sweet and endearing to you. You enjoyed rewatching all those videos. But again, today was not one of those days.

Your boyfriend Yeonjun just got back from a world tour and spending his first week break with his family. Now that he's back home with you for the next and last week, you thought he'd spend his time with you. Nope, you were very wrong. When your boyfriend got home, he kissed and hugged you but right after washing up, he goes over to the living room and plays for hours on end, not paying you any attention.

This went on for a couple more days, you did not want to be that kind of girlfriend who nags her boyfriend about playing video games all day and taking away one of his hobbies, but since the week is almost coming to an end, and he'll have to start working again, you were not gonna let this slide no longer. As the days passed, you found yourself growing more frustrated with Yeonjun's constant immersion in his video games. You tried dropping hints, like casually suggesting activities you could do together or expressing how much you missed spending quality time with him. However, it seemed like your words were falling on deaf ears, and his focus remained glued to the virtual world on the screen.

One evening, after a particularly long gaming session, you decided it was time to address the issue directly. Taking a deep breath, you approached Yeonjun and gently said, "Hey, can we talk for a moment?"

He looked at you, slightly distracted but willing to listen. "Sure, what's up?" he replied, pausing his game.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before expressing your feelings. "I've really missed you, Yeonjun. I understand that you enjoy playing video games, and I've always supported that. But since you've been back, it feels like we haven't had much time together. I was hoping we could make the most of this last week before you go back to work."

Yeonjun sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know, I know. I've just been really into this game lately, and I guess I lost track of time. I didn't mean to neglect you."

You nodded, appreciating his honesty. "I get it, and I don't want to take away something you enjoy. But I miss us, you know? I miss our conversations, our laughter, and just being close to you."

He looked at you with a hint of remorse in his eyes. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't realize it was bothering you this much. Let's do something together now. What do you want to do?"

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Anything, as long as it's with you."

He promised you to get of gaming for the rest of the week and hang out with you. You got to finally sleep well after his words, but the next morning you woke up to another nightmare, him on that dang couch with a controller in his hand, playing the games you began to envy and grow a hatred for.

Not wanting to be in the house anymore, you grab the necessities and go out to meet a friend.

You meet her at a random museum that you always wanted to go to, once you meet up, you dont open up on the topic too much and pay attention in viewing the attractions of the art museum. But your friend knows you too well and ask what's wrong.

Eventually, you tell her everything and when you begin to tear up, she offers you both to sit down and hugs your side. "Maybe he just needs time to himself? time to adjust?" She proposes. But you shake your head and sigh "I don't know man, He's just not the same guy I started dating".

Your friend, sensing the depth of your emotions, tightens her hug and nods sympathetically. "I understand it's tough. Relationships go through ups and downs, and people change. Maybe he's just going through a phase, or maybe there's something on his mind that he hasn't shared with you."

You wipe away a stray tear and look at your friend, appreciating her support. "I just feel like I've tried talking to him, you know? I want to understand, but it seems like he's not willing to open up about what's going on with him."

She nods, offering a comforting smile. "Communication is key, but sometimes it takes time for people to open up. Maybe you could give him a little space but let him know you're there when he's ready to talk."

The two of you continue exploring the museum, momentarily shifting your focus from your relationship woes to the captivating art around you. As you move from one exhibit to another, you find solace in the beauty of the paintings and sculptures. However, in the back of your mind, the unease about your relationship lingers.

After spending some time immersed in the art, you and your friend find a quiet bench to sit on. She turns to you, her eyes filled with concern. "Look, I know it's hard, but relationships are a journey. People change, and sometimes they rediscover themselves. Maybe he's just going through a phase, and things will get better. But you also have to prioritize your own happiness and well-being. If this continues to make you unhappy, it might be worth having a serious conversation with him about the future of your relationship."

You sigh, feeling a mix of emotions. "I love him, you know? I just want things to go back to how they were."

She nods, understanding the complexity of emotions involved. "Love is important, but so is your own happiness. It's okay to want things to improve, and it's okay to express your needs in the relationship. Just take it one step at a time, and remember, you deserve to be with someone who makes you happy and values your time together."

As you leave the museum, you carry these words with you, knowing that the path ahead may not be easy, but you're determined to navigate it with honesty and compassion for both yourself and your relationship.

Upon returning home, you find Yeonjun still engrossed in his gaming world. The familiar sound of the controller buttons and the glow of the screen greet you as you enter the living room. A mix of frustration and resignation settles in your chest.

Taking a deep breath, you decide it's time to have that conversation again. This time, you need to express your feelings and concerns more firmly, making it clear that the current state of your relationship is taking a toll on you.

"Yeonjun," you start, your voice steady but determined, "we need to talk."

He looks up from the game, pausing for a moment to give you his attention. "What's up?"

You take a moment, collecting your thoughts before speaking. "I love you, and I want us to be happy together. But the way things have been lately, it's not working for me. I miss the connection we used to have, and I miss feeling like a priority in your life."

Yeonjun sighs, setting the controller aside. "I'm sorry if I've been distant. I didn't mean to make you feel that way."

You continue, "I need to know what's going on. I need to understand if there's something bothering you or if this is a pattern that's going to continue. Because I can't keep feeling like I'm coming second to a video game."

He looks at you, realizing the gravity of the situation. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I guess I got carried away with the games. But you're right; we need to talk about this."

You both sit down, and a sincere conversation unfolds. You express your concerns, and Yeonjun opens up about the pressures he's been feeling, the need for an escape, and how he didn't realize the impact it was having on your relationship.

In the end, you both decide to work on finding a balance. Yeonjun agrees to be more present, and you agree to give him the space he needs, understanding that everyone needs moments of solitude. It's a compromise, a step towards rebuilding what seemed to be slipping away.

As the days pass, you notice positive changes. Yeonjun makes an effort to spend quality time with you, and you both work on rediscovering the aspects of your relationship that brought you together in the first place.

Love, communication, and compromise become the pillars that help you rebuild and strengthen your connection, turning a challenging chapter into an opportunity for growth and understanding.

[bendycxmet]

content: 1.4k words. again-dangerous activities, street racing, street racer vash, a lil vashwood as a treat.

a/n: pspsps @unitoffline as promised. i was having a lil too much fun and forgot this was meant to be a drabble

Street Racer!Vash watches too many street racing movies and suddenly thinks he can turn Rem’s hand-me-down Acura NSX into a force to be reckoned with in the streets. Well, at least from Knives’ POV.

“Do you really have to do this? I mean, think of all the danger you’re putting yourself in,” Knives asks. 

“Knives, I am well aware of all the danger, and I really appreciate your concern for poor little me, but I can handle myself. You can come to my races too, if you’re so worried.”

“Ha! As if I want to spend my late nights around loud cars and the smell of burnt tires. Unlike you, I have better things to do.”

Knives can be seen on the side of the road at every race, Vash easily catching sight of his brother’s platinum blonde hair as he zooms past. 

Street Racer!Vash finds a little community of street racers in their rural town, joining Milly in her early morning drifting practices around an abandoned track, Meryl watching from the side rails, ready to assist in any car repairs. 

Milly giggles as she watches Vash stumble his way out of his low car, sitting down on the ground with his head in his hands. “You got the spins, Mr. Vash? Just breathe and take it easy. Happens the first couple… several times you drift. You’ll get used to it. Make sure you don’t eat too heavy before coming out here.”

“Your car doesn’t sound right either. What have you been doing to it? After our practices, I mean,” Meryl inquiries with a tilt of her head.

“Uh. Well. Do I need to do…anything?” Meryl only scoffs at his answer, deciding to spare Vash her teasing. “Alright, after you get a nap and some food in, you’re gonna join me in my garage. You got a couple of things to learn about your baby here before you can even think of hitting the streets.”

Street Racer!Vash is now constantly tending to his car, wrenches and tools scattered all around him half the time. Knives, Milly, and Meryl are used to seeing him have his head beneath the car hood, hunched over, looking for any possible issues before his races. He’s braced over the engine now, five minutes before his tenth race. Yes, he’s counting. 

“Vash, stare any longer at your car and your eyes will create an issue,” Meryl quips, hands on her hips. Vash only whines, tapping his fingers anxiously on the car hood elevated above him. Milly inclines her head at Meryl, imploring her to say a couple of encouraging mechanic lingo. Meryl shakes her head before sidling up to Vash. 

“Hey big guy, you’re gonna do great. You’re 9-0. You’ve got a gift for this.” She analyzes the engine below her, and hums. “You learned from the best! I don’t see a single thing wrong here.” Meryl bumps her hip into Vash, making him stumble. He laughs through his nose, face finally relaxing. 

“I just want to be sure my car is at 100%.” 

“It is. Are you though?”

True to Meryl’s assurances, Vash feels no pull or drag with his car, the NSX purring happily as he accelerates past his opponents, crossing the finish line with the wind rustling his hair. First, yet again. 

Street Racer!Vash who feels ready to travel to the next town over, catching wind of an infamous racer from the videos posted online. Wolfwood. God, even his name sounds menacing. And he drives a Nissan Skyline?! He sounds like an absolute beast, a true rival for Vash, biting his lip as he watches the black vehicle whiz past whoever is recording. The camera can barely follow the car with how fast he’s catching the corners. One day, he’ll be at his level. 

Street Racer!Vash bounces his legs in his car, eyes solely on the matte black vehicle at the front. The flag is thrown down, and instead of everything accelerating, time seems to slow down. One, two, three cars he’s passing. All he can see is the Skyline ahead of him, only separated by a couple more cars. A curve is coming up, exactly like the ones he constantly drifts around back home. Vash changes gear, and drifts. He eases his body into the momentum of the car, watching as he passes the final few cars distancing him from his target. The road straightens and Vash gasses it. 

Street Racer!Vash grips his wheel in awe, replaying his win in his head. He defeated Wolfwood on his first try. Maybe Meryl was right. He does have a gift for this. Wolfwood pops his head into his car and exchanges some small talk with him. This can’t be real, Vash chants in his head. 

“-what do you call yourself, Spikes?” Vash barely manages to catch in his stupor.

“Call me Vash. Nice to finally meet you, Wolfwood.”

Street Racer!Vash invites Wolfwood to join Milly and his drifting practices, Wolfwood fitting in quickly with how he returns Meryl’s banter and Milly’s genuine smiles. Vash feels himself go a little soft on the inside, happy to have another in his little racing group. 

Vash lies beneath his elevated car, working at some kinks he discovered the morning prior to another race. A sudden jolt of the creeper he’s lying on and he’s being pulled out. 

“What's up Vash!" Wolfwood holds a hand out to Vash.

"What's up Wolfwood!" Vash has a grin plastered on his face, clasping hands with Wolfwood as he hoists him up. He ignores the trip and stumble his heart does at their connected hands, feeling the calluses on Wolfwood's palms.

"Looks like we have more in common than I thought. I always find you underneath this ruby gem of yours. Do you ever do anything else, Spikes?”

The silly nickname makes Vash roll his eyes, but on the inside, he feels light, giggly like a schoolgirl. “Not on this side of town. Knives is always saying I could get out and actually touch some grass instead of asphalt. Maybe you can help me out? Take up some of my time?” Vash shoots back, tilting his head up at Wolfwood. 

Wolfwood shifts his feet, feeling he bit off more than he can chew, unsure of how to proceed. He notes the grease covering Vash’s brow, grabs a (mostly) clean-looking rag, and bends down to Vash’s eye level.

“Thought you see me enough,” he states, wiping along Vash’s quickly reddening face. Wolfwood forces himself to focus on the grease on pale skin. “I wouldn’t mind getting out of our cars for once and walking around together somewhere.” 

All Wolfwood gets in response is Vash blinking quickly at him, seemingly astonished that a famous racer–that he idolized–was asking to get closer to him. Closer than just rivals on the streets. Deciding to spare him the awkwardness, Woflwood laughs. “I think I just made it worse.” Wolfwood points at his own brows, indicating to Vash that he smeared the grease rather than wiped it off. 

“Wha-” Vash stands and turns to peer at himself in the reflection of his car’s window. He whines, seeing the swath of grease now covering his forehead, then bursts into laughter when Wolfwood giggles behind him. “I’ll tell you what. Loser in the next race has to take the winner to a restaurant of their choosing. Paying for the other, of course.”

“It’s so on,” Wolfwood grins around the lollipop in his mouth and shakes Vash’s hand.

“God, you are both such oblivious losers,” Meryl quips from behind the car. Vash jumps, forgetting that she was re-inflating his rear tires. 

Street Racer!Vash grits his teeth, eyes peeping at Wolfwood’s Skyline from the corner of his eye. They only have 500 feet left until the finish line, and Wolfwood is a bumper ahead of him. Wolfwood peers sidelong at Vash, winking at him before ultimately winning the race.

"That has to be cheating," Vash thinks, heartrate racing in his ears, clutching at his chest to calm himself down.

Vash groans, leaning his head against his steering wheel once he comes to a stop. A tap at the window and Wolfwood’s opening his car door. He pokes his head in, Vash turning his head from where it rests on leather, feeling shy at Wolfwood’s proximity.

“So sweet rival of mine, where you taking me out to eat?” 

Vash flushes. In the heat of the race, he forgot all about their bet. “Uh, it’s a surprise?”

Wolfwood chuckles. “I can drive. I’ll show you what a real ride feels like.” The heat in Vash’s face rises at the intonations of Wolfwood’s statement and hides his face in his hands.

“Pick you up tomorrow night, Spikey.”

Partner piece to Street Racer!Wolfwood.

a/n: Rivals in the streets, lovers in the sheets amirite??

masterlist | divider

[taruchinator]

☔ General Audiences

☔ 1.7k Words

☔ Day 1 | Rainy Day for @flufftober

It had only been a couple of weeks since everyone made it safe and sound to the Human Realm.

Leaving nothing but pain and destruction in the place they called home, Luz was determined to make her friends feel welcomed, and at the very least somewhat happy during their impromptu visit.

So when the opportunity of showing non-boiling rain to Hunter presented itself, how could she possibly resist?

Ladies and gents, I'd like to welcome you to something I've never done before, which is trying a challenge I've always been too scared to do: Flufftober! :3

I can't promise I'll do all the prompts, but I definitely have a few things already stashed for everyone's fluffy enjoyment! This one goes to you, Huntceda nation! 💜💛

“Man, I can't wait to get this to Amity when we get home! I really hope she likes it…”

Luz happily waltzed down the sidewalk past the bookstore she'd just come from, all the while never letting go of the paper bag that contained her precious treasure worth a good twenty dollars.

Hunter let out a chuckle, easily keeping up with the brunet’s brisk pace. “I doubt that'll be an issue considering you two go nuts over anything Azura related. Not sure what makes this book any different from the others, though.”

The human girl let out a fake gasp, already knowing her companion was just teasing and decided to play along. She lifted her bag and extracted the tome from inside, instantly waving it in his face as if that would be enough clarification. “This is no ordinary Azura book—It's the five year anniversary collector’s edition! It includes never-before-seen artwork, interviews with the author, and so much more! I got mine when it first came out, but when I heard it never made it to the Boiling Isles, I'd say it's the perfect gift!”

It had only been a couple of weeks since everyone made it safe and sound to the Human Realm. Leaving nothing but pain and destruction in the place they called home, Luz was determined to make her friends feel welcomed, and at the very least somewhat happy during their impromptu visit. Because of this, she prepared special gifts for everyone to hopefully cheer them up a bit.

Willow had gotten a new polaroid camera, seeing how her interests had grown into that of photography and capturing special moments in time.

Gus got the surprise of a lifetime when he awoke to a box set full of Cosmic Frontier novels, courtesy of the one and only Camila Noceda.

Hunter got a handmade birdhouse for Flapjack—albeit a bit smaller than Luz had intended, even though the blond told her it was fine—, along with a bird watching kit, with everything from binoculars to bird seed to even a notebook to document his findings. Maaaaybe she'd gone a bit overboard on his, but those were the boyfriend-girlfriend privileges!

So after today's purchase, that would knock everybody off the list. If early signs were any indication, the tokens of appreciation were working, at least for a little bit. It was the least she could do for them…

Trying to push herself out of the mental fog that wanted to trap her, Luz clung to Hunter's arm and snuggled into it with a content sigh. His warmth always seemed to soothe her no matter where they were, and the cold weather was definitely giving him extra points. “Thanks for tagging along, by the way. You could've stayed reading with Gus all afternoon…”

The blond pulled another paper bag from behind his back, all the while grinning from ear to ear in the way that made Luz's heart melt. “Are you kidding? And miss the chance of getting our own special edition copy of Cosmic Frontier? Gus is going to lose it when we show this to him! Although we might keep this to ourselves for a bit, right Flap?”

The palisman chirped in reply from his resting spot on Hunter's shoulder. Luz giggled at the display—this boy would be the death of her one of these days, and she was more than okay with that.

“Alright you bookworms, it's time to head back before—”

Cutting her sentence short, a low rumble emanated from the sky, and it was only then the duo realized how it'd changed from blue to light gray. It was definitely clear when they'd left the house earlier.

After a droplet landed on Luz's nose catching her off-guard for a moment, she finally realized what was going on: it was starting to rain. Now, it wasn't like she didn't know this would happen—the weather forecast mentioned the chance of light showers in the afternoon, hence the brunette hoping against all odds that they'd make it back before the sky decided to open up.

Hunter on the other hand, was a different story.

“L-Luz! We have to find shelter! Boiling rain's coming!” The teen reached for the girl's hand and didn't give her a chance to reply before he started bolting back to the bookstore. Despite her protests, the blond didn't stop until they were under the protection of the building’s roof. His voice was laced with concern as the grip on her hand never wavered. “You okay?”

As she was catching her breath, Luz gave him a warm smile and squeezed his hand in reassurance, hopefully conveying her appreciation through the simple gesture. “I'm fine Hunter, thanks. Although… you do remember that rain doesn't boil in the Human Realm, right?”

A beat of silence.

Flapjack chirped between them once more as he ruffled his feathers to rid them of the moisture. Hunter's ears turned a light shade of pink as he batted his palisman away in annoyance. “F-Flapjack, cut it out!”

Luz giggled once more and raised an inquisitive eyebrow while reaching into her backpack. “I'll take that as a no?”

“I-It's not really my fault, you know! Humans run from rain here too, so it's not exactly easy to remember it won't melt our faces off!” The blond pointed at the display in front of them in exasperation, most definitely trying to save any dignity he had left. It wasn't working as well as he hoped.

“Well, you're lucky you have such a resourceful girlfriend, then!” As she finished uttering those words, Luz revealed a medium sized umbrella she'd brought with her to their errands—a gift from Willow, sleek and black and designed after a cat, with little ears on top and everything. It quickly became one of her favorites.

After opening it up, the brunette walked away from the safety of the bookstore's roof until she could hear the relaxing sounds of water splashing above her head, yet it was keeping her completely dry. A hum escaped her lips as she turned to look at her surroundings, only then realizing the streets were completely empty. Maybe Hunter had a point about humans running away from rain, too.

Speaking of the blond, Luz turned back to find him staring at her in complete awe, as if she were walking through fire and not just a simple splash in the park. With a little spin that would most definitely leave her sneakers soaked thanks to the puddles underneath, the girl gave him a smile as she waved him over. “Come on! It's safe!”

Even though Luz knew Hunter believed her, the skepticism in his eyes was evident as he eyed his surroundings warily.

With a fond roll of her eyes, the girl walked back until she was face to face with her boyfriend, this time extending a hand towards him. Water splashed against her open palm, and it was nothing but refreshing. “It's okay… I promise your face won't melt off. It'll stay as cute as always.”

Another blush spread across the blond's cheeks, but this time determination seemed to shimmer in his eyes. His gloved hand began to slowly make its way outwards, trembling slightly but moving steadily in Luz's direction. With only an inch of distance between them—

“Ow!”

“W-Wah!!!”

Before she knew it, the brunette's back hit the concrete with a wet ‘thud!’, almost knocking the wind out of her if not for Hunter's hands reaching out to cradle the back of her head before impact. How he'd managed to do that in the milliseconds they'd fallen, she'd never understand. Golden Guard training was all that popped in her mind.

Speaking of which, they'd indeed fallen to the ground, with Hunter holding his weight with one hand to avoid crushing Luz, while the other slowly let go of her head to look at her with concern. “Are you okay?! I-I tried to stop but Flapjack got in the way so I could only kinda cushion the fall with my hand and—”

“Hunter! I'm fine, really! I mean aside from my back… oof, that's gonna leave a bruise in the morning…” As she sat from her position on the floor, Luz was finally able to see what happened. Flapjack was holding onto Hunter's noodle strand with what could only be described as a satisfactory expression that almost seemed to say ‘you're welcome.’

Despite Luz finding it amusing, the blond was not having any of it as he eventually tugged the palisman away and pointed a finger at his feathered chest. “You can't keep doing that, mister! Someone could've gotten seriously hurt!”

“Hey Hunter?”

“Not now Luz, he's gotta learn! You can't keep making excuses for him!”

“I was actually gonna ask if you've noticed where we're sitting.”

At that, the blond's eyes turned from his bird companion to look around. Water splashed against his clothes, leaving them completely soaked and exposed to the elements. But none of it burned. It was actually rather… peaceful?

Luz's umbrella lay discarded to the side as she opened up her arms in earnest. The smile on her face was infectious. “Told you you'd be safe! Maybe we cut Flap some slack since I'm sure he was just trying to help you get over your fear!”

The playfulness in her voice didn't go unnoticed to Hunter, and all he could do was sigh in defeat with a tired smile gracing his features. “You guys are lucky I love you. I swear I would've thrown you in a dungeon a long time ago…”

“Aww, see Flapjack? I told you he'd be forgiving!” Luz cradled the bird in her arms with a wide grin spread across her cheeks.

She was sure to get an earful from her mom once they got home—asking her how she could be so careless and that they'd catch a cold and ‘por esto no te dejo salir con tu a solas con tu muchacho!’

Still, her heart felt full and that was truly all she could ever ask for.

“WAIT LUZ WHERE ARE OUR BOOKS?!”

… Well, hopefully Amity didn't mind getting a kitty souvenir for Ghost from the pet store instead.

[aishnico]

#𝘾𝙇𝙄𝙁𝙁 𝘽𝙐𝙍𝙏𝙊𝙉: 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦

» summary: spending valentine’s day with your beloved one while listening the vinyl he bought for you

» word count: 1.2k

» warnings: major fluff to angst with no happy ending, grammar issues

"hey babe! i have a surprise for you," you called happily while approaching him with a small box.

"oh? is that my late birthday gift?" he asked playfully.

you rolled your eyes. "babe, you know i didn't forget your birthday. indeed, i was the first one to celebrate you."

"yeah, because we live in the same house." he got more playful.

"ugh... i just wanted to connect your birthday with today. i'm not that rich, you know. so i bought only one thing for these two days."

"hey..." he said while taking the small box away from you and putting it on the coffee table. "i'm just messing with you. you don't know how much i appreciate all the things you do for me. i love you and you only. i'm so lucky to have you." he now trapped you between his arms. he was smelling mix of cigarettes and your favorite cologne of his.

"i love you too cliffy. so, so much. and i think we are both lucky to have each other." you looked up to him and met with his sweet smile. he kissed your forehead and then gently pulled you away.

"i have a surprise for you too. wait here." while leaving the living room. making you feel excited.

after a couple of minutes, he returned with a brown paper bag. he then sat next to you.

"first, open yours." you said while grinning. he nodded and took the box from the table and started to open it.

"it's kinda heavy. babe..?" he looked at the thing inside the box. it was a bass pedal he had been looking for a while.

"babe!" he put away it and then hugged you tightly. "you don't know how much i needed this, thank you so much!" he said while hugging you tighter.

you were working hard on your job to buy this. you didn't tell him, but he already knew that. it was the best gift for both his birthday and for valentine's day.

"cliff, babe, i can't breathe-" he finally let you go but the grin on his face didn't.

"now open yours."

you took the paper bag to your lap and took out what was inside of it.

holy shit...

it was pink floyd's wish you were here vinyl.

and it was from the 1975 edition. even so, the cover of it was looking new.

you couldn't help but gasp loudly. he knew this was your favourite album of them. whenever y'all go to vinyl shops you would look for this.

"cliff, babe-"

"shh," he said while taking the vinyl from you and opening the cover of the record player. he then carefully placed the vinyl on it and placed the needle. seconds later, you heard the intro of shine on you crazy diamond. the vinyl sounded so clearly. he really did find the best for you.

you then snuggled each other. him resting his head on your head while you rest yours on his chest.

"you know, this is not the best album to listen to on valentine's day."

"then why did you place it there?"

"just wanted to make you happy."

"well then, let's just relax a little. then i promise to listen with you to motorhead, sabbath, misfits, or whatever you want."

"i'd like that." he said happily before dozing off on you. you joined him minutes later.

you both woke up at the beginning of wish you were here. looking at each other sweetly. he then suddenly got up and reached out to you. you gave him your hand not knowing what's he planning.

he dragged you a few steps from the couch. placing his arm to your waist and other is pulling your arm up. you smiled at him while placing your free hand behind his neck. burying your face in his chest.

so, so you think you can tell

heaven from hell?

blue skies from pain?

can you tell a green field

from a cold steel rain?

a smile from a veil?

do you think you can tell?

"clearly this is also not the best song to listen to on valentines day." you said breathing in his presence. your voice sounded sad. knowing the story behind this song.

"yeah... hey, what's wrong?" he asked and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"i don't know about the other songs but, this song and shine on you crazy diamond were written to group's old band made, to the soul of the group, syd. listening to it now reminds me of him." you paused. "oh, sorry... today is supposed to be our day."

"well, i'm sorry for him, for them. i know this is not going to help but, if you don't pay attention to the lyrics, it sounds like a song to slow dancing with your partner."

you smiled. "you're right though." buried your face further on him.

how i wish, how i wish you were here

we're just two lost souls

swimming in a fishbowl

year after year

"you can't even imagine how much i love you cliff. i always gonna love you, i always gonna support you. as long as you let me, i always gonna be by your side. even if we break up in the future, i'll always wish you and to band the best."

"bold of you to assume that we're going to break up in the future." now both of his hands were on your waist. leaning his head on yours. "i swear to you, i'll never leave you and let you leave from my life. you're all i want, all i need. i love you, more than you'll ever know."

tears were continuously falling from your eyes. he gently pressed his hands on your cheeks and wiped them away with his thumbs.

"hey now, i didn't say all of this just to make you cry." he smiled at you and gently pressed his lips against yours. it was a sensual kiss. after a couple of minutes, you pulled away slowly, smiling at him.

when the last song ended he took out the vinyl carefully and placed it back to its cover.

"don't forget, only death can separate us. i promise." he said and grinned before he went to place the new vinyl on the shelf and pick the vinyl he wanted.

— october, 1986

he really kept his promise.

you didn't know when you finally accepted this to yourself.

you didn't even know if you could visit him, did you really have that strength? could your heart endure?

endless telephone calls, visits from your beloved ones, the newspapers... all of these made you weaker and weaker.

but you had to. you had to fly there and tell things you wanted to say. you had to be strong for his family, you had to be by their side. you had to support the band emotionally like they've supported you.

you finally got up from your couch, went to the bathroom to wash your messy face. after taking a deep breath you started to look for plane tickets to sweden.

running over the same old ground

what have we found?

the same old fears

wish you were here

[jankwritten]

Jasico Week Day One: Confession

The pen on the table remains untouched. 

(This shouldn’t be an issue. This isn’t an issue. The fact that Nico noticed it is a fluke all on its own and it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t.) 

Jason’s hands are perfectly still in his lap beneath the table, conversation flowing freely as ever. They’d been chatting about their days - Nico just got back from a long job for his father, and happened to bump into Jason outside the Principia. They’d gone out to lunch. Nico made Jason laugh three times. 

The pen is still untouched. 

(The thing is, Jason is a fiddler. He fiddles, but only when he’s calm. He lets his hands move freely because he doesn’t feel the anxious pressure to keep himself in line. When he’s anxious, he’s still as the dead, the perfect picture of a well-mannered leader. Nico shouldn’t know this. He can’t help but know things about people.) 

Jason’s office looks the same as it did the day Nico first found himself in it, across from a stranger who stared at him like Nico was prey, was something to be hunted down, killed. 

Then, the office felt like a jail cell. He was their prisoner until Reyna could confirm his bullshit ambassador story, technically, not that either of them will admit it. 

Some of the pictures on the walls have Nico in them, now. He avoids looking at them if he can. It’s too weird. 

Nico stares at the pen, instead. 

“Annabeth should be getting out of her afternoon class pretty soon, if you’re bored,” Jason says, a little tone in his voice that sounds like he’s picked up on Nico’s wandering mind. 

“I’m not bored.” He does not move that damned pen. “Are you okay?” 

Jason stops, as much as an unmoving man can. Nico glances up to his eyes briefly, then over to a framed photo of Hazel and Reyna post-battle, the two of them in their full gladiator armor clasping hands respectfully. 

In Nico’s peripherals, Jason slumps in slightly, his chin dipping. “You always do that,” he sighs. 

“Do what?” 

Finally, Jason’s hand twitches across the desk, his fingers brushing the gold-capped pen. It’s Camp Jupiter branded, engraved with Jason’s name and rank and everything. A gift from the praetors who came before him and Reyna. 

Jason flicks the pen expertly across his knuckles. 

Nico exhales. He hadn’t realized how tense he was. 

“Nothing,” Jason says. “You reminded me that there was something I needed to ask you, though.” 

(Nico’s always noticed more things about Jason than he does other people. Jason’s just that kind of guy, the kind who deserves to be noticed. Of course Nico always watches him; Jason is a leader, everyone looks up to him, everybody sees him. 

Nico observes, though, he doesn’t just see. He takes note, remembers things, always trying to figure out the puzzle pieces that make Praetor Grace the way he is. 

Sometimes, it feels like Nico gives Jason more answers about himself than Jason even knows. It’s a good feeling, to show somebody a part of themself they hadn’t yet found, or appreciated. Nico loves the look on Jason’s face every time Nico points something out to him. Jason has a kind smile.) 

“That doesn’t sound good,” Nico says, though he’s not nervous. Jason has always been upfront with him - if there were an issue, they would’ve spoken about it over their meal. He leans back in his chair and folds his fingers across his stomach, able to relax now that Jason is behaving normally again. 

“It’s not bad, I promise.” Jason flicks the pen again and leans back in his own chair, the old parts squeaking under his weight. “I wanted to ask if…if you’d like to get dinner, sometime.” 

Nico frowns, skipping his gaze once again to Jason’s face. “But we just got lunch.” 

“I’m asking if you’d like to go on a date, Nico,” Jason says, his voice suddenly softened and amused and, a date. A date? 

Jason wants to go on a date? 

Nico stares at the pen, now, each revolution around Jason’s finger twisting his brain in a new knot. Jason- a date. Jason wants to go on a date. A dinner date. A romantic date. 

With Nico? 

“You don’t have to say yes.” Jason leans forward again, a fluid motion, and he stops spinning the pen but maybe not because he’s stressed. He presses his hand down onto the desk, close to Nico. He says, “don’t feel pressured or anything. I just…wanted to ask. Because I-I really like you, I like how you make me feel, about myself, and- and I love spending time with you. And, of course, if you don’t- feel that same way, I’m fine staying friends. I love being friends with you, too. But, if there’s a chance, y’know. I didn’t want to- miss it.” 

Miss his chance. Miss his chance, as if there would ever be a time Nico was unavailable, for- dating purposes? As if there are any other people anywhere who would consider Nico worthy of romance, as if Jason Grace hasn’t just presented Nico with the biggest anomaly since he brought his sister back to life. 

Miss his chance. Gods above. 

(The first time Nico saw Jason fidget, they were hanging out at Camp Half-Blood, waiting for Will to get out of a meeting with Chiron and his cabinmates. Jason started picking at the threads on the sofa, then moved on to twisting the beads of his necklace, and the small bronze ring Leo forged for him which wound up being too small to fit. 

It was also the first time Nico noticed that Jason had nice hands. It was the first time Nico looked at Jason and thought, he’s really pretty. 

It was the first time Nico thought, no. Not again.) 

“You’re serious?” Nico asks. He has to be sure. Jason would never joke about something like that, not knowing what he knows, and Nico knows all that, but none of this quite makes sense, either. 

Jason smiles, his face rosy pink like he’s flustered. “I am one hundred percent serious.” 

“You want to go on a date.” 

“Yes.” 

“With me?” 

“No. I want to go on many dates with you.” 

Nico blinks, draws a blank on responding to that one. He opens his mouth, then shuts it. He watches Jason weave the pen between his fingers expertly, unbothered by the weight of it. It’s a practiced movement, one Nico’s seen hundreds of times. 

“Well, uhm.” Nico shifts back and forth in his seat. “I don’t have to leave for another week, at least. So we could…get dinner while I'm here?” 

“The date way?” Jason asks, sitting up straighter, his face doing that thing it does when he’s trying hard not to smile. Not to get his hopes up. Jason has hopes to get up about dating. 

Nico feels some giddy little thing light off in his own chest, fluttering enough that he presses a hand to it to try and calm it down. “Yeah,” he says, and, dammit, now he’s smiling, because Jason’s grin breaks loose and it’s like sunlight on a clear blue day, warm and dazzling. “The date way.” 

[trulytiredhermit]

Imagine the reader who is absolutely good at making motivational speeches at any given opportunity using various random words.

They also give love advice too and the yanderes follow them.

"No matter what Link, even if life is truly unfair sometimes, how life just gives you trouble in every step, without life, you wouldn't have met them, you wouldn't have met the person you've been gushing about since forever, life is beautiful sometimes, it's just that you don't see its full beauty when all you're ever focusing on are the negative parts of it, i assure you that beneath that not so wonderful history you have with life, is a wonderful and beautiful one, just because you're going through a hard time doesn't mean that you won't ever be able to move past it, you're wonderful and caring and beautiful Link, they will like you back, i promise."

That's what the reader says.

Listen to me, listen to me. Reader be dense af rn if they’re giving the Yandere’s love advice.

AND I AM HERE FOR IT!

Ugh, if Reader said that to ANY of the yanderes (well not Wind mind you, he do be a child) but they’re sweeping Reader of their feet and proclaiming their marriage for the whole world to hear.

And you KNOW the Links try to drop subtle hints when they ask for live advice.

“What kind of gift would you like?”

“What’s your favorite (thing)?”

“Well, what are some things that you’d do on a first date?”

“How would you want someone to ask to court you?”

Besides that though, Reader giving the best motivational speeches

(haha jokes on you ANY speech reader gives is the best. Reader could say “Fuck ‘em up and don’t die.” And the Chain would be applauding, giving Reader the standing ovation they deserve!)

But anyways, Reader boosts the groups moral and mental health instantly.

Any Link could be severely injured, just hear a speech from Reader and all of a sudden they’re getting up like they’ve just downed 12 red potions.

Hyrule would especially love the motivational speeches Reader gives.

I mean the poor dude has a lot of self-doubt and self-worth issues.

But don’t worry my man, Reader’s got you covered you funky little magic dude you.

Warriors thinks you’d make an amazing general/high ranking officer in the army. You’d be able to rally support and energize/motivate the troops and soldiers.

Though he’d never let you fight, ever.

Time certainly appreciates your speeches when the boys are having a hard time while on the journey.

You’re just able to light up the room like no other.

The Chain also makes it a common thing now in your guys daily routine.

[otomes-and-tears]

Hey can you write HCS for Jumin and V with an MC who decides to make a baby care company after she gets pregnant with their first child and it turns out to be very profitable

♦️ Jumin and V with an MC that runs a baby care company ♦️

► tags/warnings: Pregnancy

► word count: 1000

► A/N: Getting a new puppy is great, until he wakes you up by howling at 3 AM. At least I got to get a lot of writing done!

I’ll do a more thorough spell-check and formatting tomorrow when I’m not on mobile.

► Masterlist

Jumin

You never realised how expensive a child was until you’ve gotten pregnant;

Of course, as Jumin’s spouse, you know that money isn’t an issue at all;

You could buy the most expensive and lavish items possible and not have to worry about the cost;

And you just know that he would be delighted with it;

But you weren’t born into riches, not like he was. You still looked at price tags and cringed at the cost. You’d still compare the price of the gifts he would buy you with your previous rent prices;

It’s not something you can help— you’re better at accepting his gifts, because you know that they are his way of showing how much he loves you, but buying expensive things by yourself was still difficult;

But shopping for furniture for your baby’s nursery made you think about all the mothers who weren’t as lucky as you;

People who had a child and couldn’t afford to rest easy knowing they didn’t have to worry about the extra costs;

So you started thinking of ideas to help— workshopping ideas for baby care essentials that were affordable, but still durable and safe;

It helped that you were actively doing research about things you’d need and what to look out for,so you could best refine your ideas into something perfect;

You brought Jumin your findings only a few short months before your due date;

Making sure to stress that no, you haven’t been overworking yourself and that you and your baby were absolutely fine;

Honestly, he was very proud of you;

For having an eye for business and trying to make a product to fill a niche, and for trying to best to use your resources to help other people;

He saw potential in your project, even if it needed some polishing, and offered his full support to make it happen;

He ends up being more involved in this project then he is in most;

Jumin wants to make sure that your vision is realized, so he lets you take lead, but he has more experience with the business side of things and can offer you insight into what’s actually achievable;

Jaehee is even brought on board! She’s delighted at not having to work on another cat product, and by being your project it means that you scold Jumin every time he demands too much of her;

You only end up launching the line a few years later;

Since it was a baby care line you and Jumin wanted to make sure you didn’t rush anything and that all your products were as close to perfect as possible;

He’s so proud of your success;

Even if he gave you support, it was still the fruits of your labor. The result of your vision and your ideas;

Jumin was just happy that he was able to assist you in making them a reality;

You treat him to dinner with your first paycheck and for the first time in your marriage he’s happy to let you pay.

Jihyun

It all started when you were scrolling through your social media, looking for inspiration;

And all you would find online were sad, white and beige nurseries;

You understood how nice it was to have a consistent aesthetic, and you could appreciate perfectly color coded instagram feeds;

But children deserve pretty rooms with vibrant colors!;

The “sad beige baby” aesthetic bothered you so much you ended up ranting to your Jihyun about it;

As an artist he completely understood your frustrations and promised that when the time came to paint your child’s room, he would make a beautiful mural filled with vibrant colors;

And… that kind of gave you an idea;

Jihyun was an artist! Couldn’t you customize a few of your baby’s things to make them resemble a piece of art?;

You started out small— you grabbed one of Jihyun’s blank sketchbooks and tried your best to sketch out simple toys;

Building blocks, teddy bears and rattles;

When it came time to paint your sketches, you tried to mimic your husband’s techniques when he plays around with more abstract colors and shapes, trying your best to make it something that would fit into a child’s room;

And… well, it didn’t look as good as his work, but it still wasn’t bad!;

When you moved on to more practical products— trying to keep in mind what you’ve previously painted to make sure they’d reasonably look good as a set, without taking away their uniqueness;

Once you were done, you excitedly run to Jihyun to show him your work;

He praises your art, first and foremost, emotional about having inspired you to create something;

He’s able to point you in the direction of someone that’s able to help you create prototypes, and is more than happy to help you nail down the first designs by refining your sketches and paintings;

It feels good to collaborate on something;

You have both gone through so much together, but there’s still a lot you don’t know about him;

Art allows Jihyun to express these things in his own way, and by being able to witness and collaborate in this process you feel a little closer to him;

When the prototypes are ready you almost squeal with joy! Well… it’s going to be a while before your child can play with these, but you can’t wait until that day comes;

But you’ve enjoyed the whole process of creating so much you can’t shake off the idea of making this a business;

Your main goal is to make your products practical, comfortable and aesthetically pleasing;

When you launch, you’re happy to see other families embracing your vision!;

In the next few years, your company becomes a huge success, and Jihyun is with you every step of the way;

He’s happy to paint new prints for you, or to add his own ideas to your work if you ask him to;

No one is as supportive and loyal as him!