#i unfortunately don't think before speaking

[pittrabbit]

warning: angst, fluff, resolution of feelings yay, kissing, a lot of smut, p in v sex, not proofread!!!!, age gap (think 28 and 49), horribly incorrect medical terminology, made up lore about jack's former wife.

summary: after finally snapping at jack, he does something he'd never done before: he grovels. finally allowing himself to let someone in, he chases after you in hopes of doing things right this time around.

word count: 4.3k

part 1

only a few days passed after that last, unfortunate, encounter with you before another harsh day made its way to the ER.

jack couldnt help but worry about you on the harder days at the job. you'd gotten to know each other well enough for you to know each other's coping mechanisms. you knew about his therapy, about his habit of coming in to work when sleep couldn't find him. and in turn, he knew of your loneliness, of your inability to decompartmentalize your emotions after a particularly difficult shift.

this worried him as soon as a massive casualty hit the ER. it had been a car crash. a blunder involving a drunk driver and a truck packed with a family of six. only one survivor — a six year old little girl. it had taken the entire day, with tireless attempts at saving the family, at saving the drunk driver and his passenger, but it was all futile.

you worked along each other, ignoring any issues between you as you attempted to save a young 12 year old boy with head trauma. it was grueling, an impossible case to deal with. and it all proved useless, resulting in the outcome jack saw coming within an hour of working the case. but he continued upon your insistence, realizing you were crashing out and wanting to be there to catch you.

after it was all said and done, he trailed after you, watching from afar just in case. he wanted to ensure you were fine, even if it was from a distance.

it was a selfish need, but he seemingly couldn't help his selfishness when it came to you.

it was surprising to him when you accepted princess' invitation to join the crew in some after-work drinks at the park. it meant he no longer had to keep his distance. it meant he could at least save himself from worrying about your mental state as you went home alone, that he could make sure you could decompress before heading home.

and so now he sat there, beer in hand as he actively avoided looking your way.

he didn't want to be obvious, didn't want to make you uncomfortable or like he kept you under close watch. he had already been scared that you'd leave as soon as you realized he was tagging along. so he wanted to keep his distance, or to at least make you think that he was.

one by one, people began leaving, all while you stood there, mostly quietly nodding along to people's jokes and commentary about the hard day.

in the end, it was only you, jack, robby, and collins left. the more people that left, the harder it was for jack to not zero in on you, to not want to go up to you and grovel, to take the chance that you were finally in his vicinity to make things up with you.

robby — a smart man — and collins — an even smarter woman — took his silent pleas into consideration, eyeing each other before getting up from the bench they were sharing with jack. collins went to give you a quick hug as a goodbye, insisting you take her seat on the bench. knowing you'd hesitate, she guided you despite your lighthearted objections.

robby was the last to say goodbye, offering his friend a subtle nod in encouragement before leaving you on your own.

the silence was heavy, creating warmth in the otherwise chilly atmosphere of the park.

jack remained silent for a few moments, still facing forward as he sipped at his beer.

"kid," he broke the silence, giving you space to speak.

"can we ... can we not talk? i just, i don't know if i can handle talking to you right now," your voice was broken as you said it.

it made jack's heart clench, in pain at the fact that today's events weren't the only reason why you were hurting. it was because of him too.

his body turned to yours on the bench, finding you shelled off, shrinking into yourself as your legs pressed together and you looked down at your lap. it took him a moment to realize you were crying, small sniffles leaving you before a sob escaped your lips.

"fuck, kid ... c'mere," he grabbed his leg off the bench, scooting to your side and wrapping his arm around you.

surprisingly to him, you leaned in, allowing yourself to nuzzle into his chest while he pressed kisses against your hair, humming in a comforting manner as he remained pressed into your hair.

"i- i don't-"

"you don't gotta say anything. just stay here," he reassured, "i'm here, kid. i'm always here."

you stayed silent for a beat or two, "are you, jack? because it really hasn't felt like it lately," you pulled away just enough to look up into his eyes, finding them glassy just like yours.

his gaze averted, swallowing as he attempted not to let the shame show in his features. thing was, you had a point. jack was very well aware of how hot and cold he'd been with you, how little explanation he'd given you for it.

and though he'd been trying to make up for it, he had felt too ashamed to even try and be assertive about it all. communication, something he valued incredibly (specially after all those visits to his therapist), had failed him any time he tried to let himself get closer to you. he felt like a hypocrite telling robby all about therapy and letting himself be vulnerable, all while he did anything but.

truth was, it had been a very long time since he'd felt like this. it had been twelve years since the passing of his wife, an event that had altered his life beyond belief. it had only been a year since he'd stopped wearing the ring to work, advice given with some hesitation by both his therapist and robby. something about needing to move on, to stop being stuck in the past.

it didn't prove useful for a while. it certainly opened up doors for women flirting with him any time he found himself at a bar or outing with his coworkers, but he never really engaged with it, not feeling quite ready for it.

but then he met you.

the effect of meeting you had been almost immediate, he just hadn't realized it until later. and it was this realization that led to him ruining everything.

he cared about you far too much far too quickly. when he finally came to realize it, he knew he was in too deep and completely unprepared for his feelings. attempting to bring it up during therapy had been futile, as he had already made up his mind to let you go, to keep you at an arm's length even if it ended up hurting you both in the process.

you were too young, too new, too polished — and that was completely ignoring the fact that you were his subordinate. being with him would mean dirtying you up with all his issues, forcing all of his trauma on you, showing you the ugly parts of himself that had not seen the surface since his wife had passed. and even then, he'd only gotten worse with time, even more closed off. even his wife wouldnt have been able to handle the dark cloud constantly hanging over his head.

he kept it hidden. he told jokes, encouraged students, was there for his friends, but beneath the surface was too much for him to unravel in front of you.

but pushing you away clearly hadn't been the solution.

because now he found himself even more miserable than before. and even worse, he found you destroyed by his actions, crying as he held on to you late at night on a public park.

"i'm here, kid. i'm always here, you know that," he finally answered your question, pulling you even closer, perhaps more for his own sanity than yours.

you continued looking at him, a knot in your brows and a pouty lip sticking out, giving him the look of a petulant child.

"you can't do this, jack," you shook your head, correcting yourself, "i mean, doctor abbot. sorry, force of habit."

he shook his head slowly in return, lifting up a hand to your cheek and making you turn to him, "hey, it's jack to you, okay? none of that formality bullshit."

you scoffed, "how- how am i supposed to read you, jack? how do i know when you're doctor abbot to me or when you're jack? i'm ... i'm so tired of this. i don't think i can do this anymore," you paused, scooting back slightly so you could look at him better. you swallowed and looked away for a brief moment, as if you needed to build up the courage for what you were going to say next, "i applied at a hospital next town over to continue my rotation there. they, uhm, they called me yesterday. i just need to sign the papers and then-"

"what?"

he turned serious, harshly grabbing his prosthetic off the floor and putting it on before standing up with conviction. chuckling with bitterness, he ran his hand down his face, turning to you as he paced in front of the bench you'd been sitting on.

"you're, what, you're leaving? its- it's that easy for you?"

then you turned serious, anger invading your features before you got up and stood in front of him, chin tilted upwards as you spoke.

"easy? you think this shit is easy for me? i've been here for almost a year. i love everyone here, but you- god, you're driving me fucking insane. what do you even want from me?," you ranted, hands flying up and down as you spoke with conviction, "first you teach me, you take me under your wing, you treat me as your favorite, and you- you make me think that maybe you might even like me" you paused, looking away for a second with insecurity behind your eyes, "but you were too much of a coward to admit it to yourself and decide to shun me instead? you push me away, refuse to teach me, fuck, you acted like you hated me — no, but here's the kicker! when i do the same in return, that's when you decide to switch it back up on me? what am i supposed to do with that, jack? i can't deal with this anymore, i can't-"

jack had heard enough. truly, he had heard enough five seconds into your rant, but he'd never seen you speak with such emotion. he knew you needed this, to get all your anger for him out of your system so you could complete the cycle of emotions you were going through because of him.

it was just that he needed to get something out of his system too.

taking two determined steps towards you, his hands went up to your cheeks, engulfing almost the entirety of your face in between them before pulling you towards him.

kissing you had been the most decisive thing he'd done since meeting you. no overthinking, no faltering, just doing what he'd been too ashamed of even picturing for the past months in which he'd known you.

the kiss turned intense almost immediately, invading his every sense as he coaxed your lips open with his tongue before slipping it inside. you sighed, finally allowing him to feel your hands on him when you brought them up tot he back of his head, toying and pulling at his hair any time he'd suck on your tongue.

the sounds you released against his lips had him breathing in deep, almost as if buffering at the effect you had on him. his hands came down to your lower back, pulling you against his body, ensuring no space would be left between you.

admittedly, jack was not expecting you to pull away within mere moments of what he would've called a life-changing kiss. his lips chased yours for a few seconds before realizing what was happening, opening his eyes to find your eyes on his.

"n-no, jack! i can't do this, i can't just- i need something better than this. i deserve better," you reprimanded, but you didn't pull away. you stayed in his hold, with your hands now lying on his chest.

jack took a deep breath, giving himself a moment to enjoy the light breeze around you before zeroing in on your eyes. it was imperative to him to always look you in the eyes, to have his entire focus on you as he spoke to you.

"you're right. you deserve better," his hands went up and down your back in a comforting manner, "and i'll give you better. i'll give you anything you want."

"how am i supposed to believe that?"

you looked away, staring down at your feet due to the intensity of his gaze, but he wasn't having it. his hand went up to your chin, encompassing it between his thumb and his index finger as he lifted up your chin so you'd face him again.

"hey- hey, eyes on me. i- i cant explain what i feel for you, okay? i've been a fucking idiot, and i know i don't deserve another chance, but i do care about you. more than i can even understand," he began, not once leaving your eyes, "i did this all wrong. i didn't want you wasting your life with an old man like me, with someone who doesn't even know how to love anymore," his hand went up to trace your cheek with his thumb, "but i was wrong. and if you let me, i'll prove it all to you. what do you say, kid? will you give me another chance?", he practically pleaded, taking a deep breath before speaking again, "i love you, kid. i need you to at least know that."

you stayed silent for a few moments, scaring the fuck out of jack as you did so, but then you looked back up to him with a smile.

"you know, if we're gonna do this, maybe it's time you stop calling me kid, you old man," you nodded at him.

in disbelief, he laughed, shaking his head at you, "yeah? that's all you got out of this?," he laughed unlike he usually did, with jubilation that was unfamiliar to him, "hmm, how about 'baby,' then? huh? or 'honey'? 'sweetheart'? you gotta give me ideas here, kid. i don't know what the youth's saying nowadays."

laughing along with him, you nudged him in faux annoyance, "stop talking like that, you're not 70!"

he interrupted your teasing by burying his face in your neck, kissing it lightly a few times before reaching your lips, shutting up your laughter with his tongue in your mouth.

you fell into the kiss easily, moaning into his mouth when he deepened it and pulling him closer by twisting your fingers in his hair.

"hmm," you hummed when you pulled away, "i love you too, by the way. in case that wasn't completely obvious by now."

"i think i might need some proof, kid," he teased.

rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "again with the kid-"

but he interrupted you again with another kiss, this time heavier, this time more lustful. his hands traced your jaw, holding it in place so he could explore your mouth as he pleased.

your reaction to his touch, to his kiss, were nothing but euphoric to jack. you melted into him, humming and sighing at every swipe of his tongue against yours. jack pulled you closer by your hips, causing an incidental grace of your hips with one another. this pulled a groan from jack, who was already beginning to harden and knew he was a gone man upon the very first touch of lips.

"kid, i-"

"take me home, jack," you sighed, eyes closed and lips scraping by his own, not allowing him an answer before your tongue snuck out and licked at his top lip, sucking it lightly afterwards.

jack lost his sanity then, but he was fortunately well trained for such moments. he had a soldier's ability to remain stoic whenever necessary.

but the military didn't train him for how to deal with you.

so he caved.

"are you sure?", he tried to keep his composure, to think reasonably for the two of you.

your lips went south, reaching his jaw and then his neck as you kissed and sucked at it, moaning into his skin as if you were the receiver of the pleasure.

"please, jack," you reached his ear then, teeth scrapping his lobe, "i've been waiting for so long."

for the first time in more years than he could count, jack shuddered, a heavy exhale leaving him at your tongue suddenly licking at the shell of his ear. his hands gripped your hips, pushing you up against the hardness between you as he groaned.

"you want to kill me," he huffed, giving in.

"take me home so i can finish the job," you continued, relentless in ruining him.

he nodded, breathless, utilizing herculean effort to separate himself from you and grabbing your hand, leading you in the direction of his car parked a couple blocks away.

once in the car, you didn't want to keep your hands off him, pulling him in for another kiss before he could even fasten his seatbelt.

"you're going to make us end back at the ER, honey," he grumbled between kisses, hand on your wrist as you pulled his head towards you.

"fine, i'll calm down," you sighed dramatically as you pulled away (much to jack's hypocritical dismay)

౨ৎ

"you know, i always pegged you as someone a someone a little more shy," jack attempted to speak as you pushed him up against the wall of his apartment.

"yeah? you feel i'm taking advantage of you, doc?", you jested back, a cheshire cat smile on your slips as you had your way with him.

jack's hands remained on your waist, pulling you close while you peppered kisses down the length of his neck. they reached under your scrub top, feeling the warm skin at the dip of your back, groaning at the softness found there.

"take as much advantage as you want," he hummed after a few moments of silence, just taking in every touch you blessed him with.

your mouth creeped north reaching his ear, hands now under his shirt and tracing at the skin of his abdomen. breathing against his ear, you kissed it, whispering into it, "but what if i want you to take advantage of me?"

"fuck, kid ... you're going to kill me," but despite his words, his hands wrapped around you, nudging you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist.

it was a bit of a messy trek, but you made it to his bed in one piece, being settled down on it with gentleness. refusing to let jack get too far from you, your legs remained around him as he threw off his shirt, hastening in removing his prosthetic, shoes, pants, and leaving only his boxers on. he watched you intensely as he undressed, all while you made sex eyes at him, biting your lip and swallowing at every new sliver of skin uncovered.

"you look like you want to eat me," he chuckled, climbing the bed and kneeling on top of you, using his hands to lift himself up above you.

"there's a lot of things i want to do to you," you sighed back, lifting your head so you could steal a kiss, pulling him down by grabbing the back of his neck.

desperate for more, your legs fully wrapped around his back, pulling him down so your middles could connect. this earned a groan directly into your mouth along with a whine of your own. luckily jack took the hint, beginning to gyrate his hips against your own, giving you the desired friction despite your scrub pants and his boxers being in the way.

"oh, god, jack ..." you sighed, mouth open and allowing jack access to suck your tongue.

your hands became antsy, scratching at his back in anguish at the pressure you were craving in your stomach. meanwhile, his own hands slipped under your shirt once more, hesitant in pulling it up before you aided him in the act, lifting yourself up a bit in order to throw it off.

under it, he found a lacy bra, baby pink and contrasting against your skin perfectly. it was comfy, not too much, but it had a cute little bow in the middle, giving jack whiplash as he stared down at you dumbfounded.

"fuck, kid," he shook his head in disbelief, "i dont know if i can handle you," his lips lowered, kissing at your collarbones, dragging his kisses to your sternum and ending up at the top of your breasts.

"what, old man, you're gonna tell me you're out of practice?", you teased as you reached behind you to pull your bra off, making jack freeze against your chest for a second before allowing himself to look at your nude upper half.

"you're a fucking dream, kid," he huffed, voice in a complete state of incredulity. he then leaned down again, kissing at your breasts, licking and biting and sucking, taking in every moan that left your lips while his hips took on a slow and steady pace as they ground into yours, "don't even know where to start with you."

"just fuck me," you cried, pulling his head back up to your lips, "i want you so bad, jack."

he groaned at this, but even more so when he felt your hand reach down to his boxers, one hand slipping inside and gripping his dick while the other scratched at the hem, pulling down the fabric.

"you sure, baby?" he had to check one last time, though he knew he wouldnt be able to take it if you made him stop now. he had never felt this needy, like he'd die if he didnt get more of you.

you nodded with desperation, furrowed brows and pleading eyes staring up at him in a ruinous manner.

shuffling so you could remove your scrub pants and panties from under him, you finally ended up fully nude and ready, gasping when you felt his fingers run through the wetness between your legs.

jack grabbed at himself, positioning his dick right against your cunt and finally pushing in with a heavy grown.

dropping his head against your neck, he took a deep breath, groaning at the feeling of finally entering you.

"jack ... fuck, jack, you feel so good," you were delirious as you said it, nails already running down his back.

in the meantime, jack was in heaven. he hadnt felt so lightheaded in years. your mere touch already had his heart going a mile a minute and his brain turning off, but the feeling of you like this — warm, wet, welcoming — made every bit of misery in his life become worth it.

"fucking perfect ... that's it, baby, take it for me," he began moving, hips creating that slamming sound of skin that he'd grown so unfamiliar with.

the man above you lost himself in the pleasure, grunting in tandem with every thrust and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible, breathing in the natural scent of your skin.

and even though the pleasure was unimaginable, jack simply wanted more, wanted to have you louder, more broken for him. he'd always been a bit of an overachiever, after all.

softly, he pulled out, shushing you when you whined at the separation and getting you on your hands and knees. his hands massaged the skin of your hips, dipping your back lower so you'd arch it even more for him and groaning at the sight.

"look at you ..." he mumbled almost to himself.

then he entered you again, now deeper, heavier, adding more pressure to your belly and making you immediately wail at the feeling. that's when jack truly lost himself. completely drunk on the feeling, jack hammered into you, huffing and puffing at the overexertion of energy he was currently displaying.

"i'm gonna cum, jack, shit ..." you said with an uncharted desperation, only making jack speed up, knowing that the moment you came, he was gone.

and he'd been right. as soon as your climax took over you, you pulled him right down with you, forcing him to spill inside you without the ability to even warn you. you'd taken him by surprise as per usual.

there were, once more, complaints from you when he finally pulled out of you, leaving the warmth of your skin to clean himself up and wipe up any of his remains that spilled out of you. he just tutted at you, but still hurried himself up so he could finally lay down with you, have that intimacy he'd craved from you since day one.

side by side, jack felt offended by any amount of distance, pulling you as close as possible while his hands traced at the curve of your hips, grabbing your leg and throwing him over his waist so any distance would be eliminated. your hands played with his chest, fingers tracing figures at the expanse of it while you smiled shyly at him.

"how you feeling, gorgeous?"

you muffled a giggle by pressing your face into his chest, kissing the skin once, twice, before leaning up for a kiss on his lips.

"better than i've felt in a very long time. how about you, old man?", you hummed into his lips.

"never felt better."

"you just had to one-up me, didn't you?" you scowled falsely at him.

he tsk'd at you in fake annoyance, a very common display from him, "gotta keep you on your toes, kid."

note: did not know how to end it lol and its also not proofread but i hope you enjoy anyways!

[yaekiss]

o. okay. vampire brainrot blurbs part two.

because of castrum kremnos' pomegranate juice representing blood, you don't find it odd when mydeimos— your mydei— eyes up your neck on the warmer days where your turtlenecks and necklaces are switched out for tank tops and sweat that rolls down your face and neck... he hears nothing but the pumping of blood up the jugular vein, your panting after a hard day's work, the frustrated growl when your procrastination gets the better of you. you know mydei can help with that, right? just follow him to his room, focus only on the deep and satisfied groans he lets out at the exquisite taste of your blood. how could he resist when your fingers splay over his back or when your nails dig in to his strong shoulders? how could he resist when the taste bursts upon his tongue like the pomegranates he oh so adores?

bladie is a tsundere, for lack of a better word. he loves the attention you give him, but rarely do you get more than a hitching of his breath or a stutter in his words when you're looking. unfortunately for bladie, the red in his warm cheeks give him away every time, no matter if it's from you feasting/feeding from his thighs or purring lewd promises into his sharp ears. he may look away and scoff some nonsense about how you simply must stop this perverse routine, but you know better. you know bladie better than he thinks, so you know that he loves when you spoon him, attention only on him as you feed only on him, speak only to him.

dan heng is an equal, truly. you share glasses together in the cool breeze of a summer's evening often, and neither of you feel a wanting for more. it's comfortable living with him in your life: there is no hunger, for blood nor food, there is no yearning when your love is but a mere room away. human or not, dan heng there for you just as you are for him: a bared neck to feed from, a glass of blood to share in slow kisses, a wonderful lap warmer if he feeds from you.

𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔 - 𝒑𝒕. 𝟐

꩜ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Subby! Mydei, Subby! Blade, Subby! Dan Heng (separate), no gendered terms for reader, vampire! AU, blood and biting, a mix of fluff and smut for Blade's and Dan Heng's parts, brief mention of a handjob (reader giving) in Dan Heng's part, lmk if I missed anything! ꩜ A/N: MORE VAMPIREPOSTING YAHOOOO! about 1k to be exact. this one is a lot more errr fluff and feelings than I expected it to be, I think mydei's one is the raunchiest one while dan heng's is the fluffiest one (there's still smut ofc dw) HOPE THIS IS NICE orz... I don't know if I'm that good at writing more intimate feelings fluff content >< ꩜ Adjoining Rooms: Part 1 (Childe, Kaveh, Diluc)

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟓: 𝑴𝒚𝒅𝒆𝒊 ꒷꒦ Human!Reader x Vampire!Mydei ꒦꒷

Mydei always has something to look forward to when he's around you, regardless of the climate or season

If it's a colder day and you have a turtleneck or a scarf on to keep the chill out, he can't wait until the both of you are back at home, where the temperatures are perfectly nice and cozy. Indoors, it's finally warm enough that you can shed the layers you've been bundled in (by none other than your sweet Mydei for the fear of catching a cold). The both of you settle in for the night after a day outside and he, at last, has unfettered access to teasing and biting at your neck. Alternating between mischievous nips along where your pulse bounds the hardest and heated kisses pressed to your skin, Mydei can't get enough of you at all,,,,

Warmer days. You've said it all pulpie!! Urgh can you imagine him soothing you over your frustration (the unbearable heat of the daytime definitely didn't help your mood). Mydei's nothing but honeyed affection as he leads you to your shared bedroom. He already has everything prepared on a side table. Curiously, a goblet of pomegranate juice is there too, a vibrant scarlet. Temptingly, he sets himself onto your lap before he helps himself to the feast at the crook of your neck, laving over the area first, only then does he bite down. You get to hear his breathy pants right next to your ear, groaning low at the taste of you on his tongue. Then suddenly, he licks over the puncture mark one last time before pulling back. Your confusion only doubles when he grabs the goblet and tips it until the red is spilling over from his clavicle down down down way past his torso. He guides your head over to his neck, mirroring his position earlier. You can hear the rising hunger in his voice.

"Don't you want to see just how sweet I can be for you too? Go on, bite down."

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟒: 𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒆 ꒷꒦ Vampire!Reader x Human!Blade ꒦꒷

He gets so blushy when you ask him to keep his legs apart so that you can drink from his inner thighs ("Surely there's somewhere less... perverse." A lot of talk for someone who's not kicking you away.)

His muscles jump when he feels your lips brush across the sensitive zone there, a hand caressing up his calf as if to rile him up even more. As you lean in again to sink your fangs in, all his senses hone in onto those two points.

"I swear, ah, this is the last... time I let you- hah... do this to me!"

(Your Bladie has said this many many times before in the past. How many times has he unwrapped the bandage around his right thigh for you? How many times have you caught him staring breathlessly at you when you feed from him?)

But there's also something so indescribably intimate about the whole ordeal, regardless of how repetitive it has gotten. Your eyes flick up and catch his hand fisting and toying with the sheets beneath him. Time to wrap mealtime up for now.

You leave a trail of kisses from the side of his calf up to where you were drinking from. Then, you shift your body so that he rests comfortably in your arms. With this arrangement, you're even more aware of the thundering pace of his heartbeat when you're pressed closely to him. Taking one of his hands into yours, you entwine your fingers, thumb idly tracing circles on the back of his palm

Cooing praises into his ears, fond amusement fills you as you watch the tips of his ears turn even more pink. He scoff under his breath but he doesn't move to pull away from you

The hand in yours squeezes tight, promising not to let you go, so you have to promise to do the same with him

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟑: 𝑫𝒂𝒏 𝑯𝒆𝒏𝒈 ꒷꒦ Vampire!Reader x Vampire!Dan Heng ꒦꒷

Dan Heng feels like he got truly lucky to meet someone who complements him so well. He doesn't know how to explain it but he's in a sort of paradoxical state where he's so at ease and sated with you that he wants for nothing and everything at the same time

Whether you fill the silence in his room with lighthearted chatter, or the two of you simply work on your own projects in comfortable silence, Dan Heng can't help but smile softly whenever you're near him

On special occasions, you two like to share some glasses of blood. Over time, you've learnt each other's preferences, be it for blood type or food to pair it with. The breeze on his skin is nice as you spend the nighttime watching the stars, but he'd much rather stare at you instead. (If he could still blush, you'd note how rosy his cheeks are even in the dimmed lighting.)

There's no need to go through the whole awkward "I'm somehow a vampire" thing with a fellow vampire. You don't pry when he's not ready to reveal his past, and you listen when he does. He's infinitely grateful to have someone who gets him at such a personal level.

The both of you spend the nights in each others room rather often, he realises. This thought pleases him, his eyes curving up slightly into crescents while you're currently mouthing at his jugular, the sharp points of your teeth scraping across his skin but never breaking past it. A pleasant heat builds up in him when he feels your hand snaking from his chest, to his abdomen, and further down still. He grinds lazily against your palm, quiet moans slipping past his lips.

"What are you thinking about that's got you smiling like that?" You ask, incentivising him to answer with the promise of release as you swipe your thumb against the tip of his cock.

"You already know the answer to that," he rolls his eyes in faux exasperation, the arms he has around you hugs you closer to him, until he's able to tuck his face in a slot between the both of you.

"It's always just you."

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[1-800-local-slut]

Hey 👋 . Hope u doing well . I got a bit of a long request that I think you will like . Imagine this with me cause the idea just came to my head as I was reading ur powerpuff girl!reader . So danny phantom inspired reader , she obviously with mark grayson but I wanna focus on a specific danny phantom episode. So like it's an average day saving lives with our man invincible and this random girl who looks exactly like reader comes needing their help . They discover that ciecil has been trying to make a clones of dp!reader incase she go's rouge and dp!reader and mark are angry as heck at this information. Now I got some many ideas on how rest of this continues but I really want the rest of ur perspective on this since you be cooking better than me .

Danny Fenton was my cartoon crush growing up, thank you for this love. Anyways, I loooove the way you think. I think I know the episode you're talking about (I'm sorry if it's the wrong one) BUT I raise you this: the reader was raised by the GDA, closely by Cecil and she never thought he would do something like this to her? Oh my heart hurts just thinking about it (I'm smiling hard asf while writing this)

Mark Grayson x Black! Ghost-powered! Reader!

Warnings: angst, rage really, Cecil sucks here guys, reader has daddy issue

Note: the main character has powers like Danny Phantom, was raised in a lab, this is written from the point of view of you and Mark so all of Cecil's actions are seen as evil even if they've been explained. We know he wasn't trying to kill Mark but to you and Mark it looks differently

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

It was always awkward to sit down and have dinner with the parents. Like when you meet your friends' parents before going upstairs to hangout and they clearly don't like you at all but begrudgingly let you and your friend leave the table. It's ten times worse when it's your girlfriends' parents.

It's 20x worse when it's your ex-boss. Like when your girlfriend was a government experiment who can transform into a ghost at will that was raised by the GDA and raised closely by Cecil, who made a clone of your girlfriend in case she turned evil that attacked your girlfriend before getting beat the fuck up? No? No one else relates? Just Mark? Well okay, he has had an original experience.

It was awkward.

The Chinese restaurant was loud, with people mingling around. Mark was trying to contain himself, just as much as you were. You were shaking from rage beside him, the forks on the table trembled beside you and your eyes were now a vibrant green.

Mark kept his grip on your hand to keep you from attacking Cecil in this restaurant. You glared at Cecil, refusing to speak a single word. Cecil stared back at you looking infuriatingly tranquil.

The three of you sat in uncomfortable silence.

Not for much longer though. Cecil cleared his throat, opening one side of his scarred face and began some sentence you did not care to hear.

"Well-."

"I did not ask."

Then back to silence.

Mark had his outs with Cecil. He doesn't take kindly to a chip being implanted in his brain, and normally he'd just try to leave. He'd get up, taking you with him. But Mark knows you. He knew there was no way in hell he was getting you out of this restaurant quietly. Maybe verbally silent but you would probably throw the fish tank at his head on your way out. The moment Cecil crashed your date he gave up.

You were either going to sit silently until the check came, or you were going to curse Cecil clean out again before leaving. Luckily for everyone else in the restaurant it seemed like you were choosing to sit silently. Luckily for Cecil he wasn't going to have to hear your scathing insults again

Unfortunately for Cecil, Mark really wanted to go home instead of sitting there looking at Cecil's face. The day was long enough. You two already had dinner planned, now he just wanted to go. Take his beautiful girlfriend and fly home. Maybe stop at Mcdonald's on the way home to get you an apple pie so you could feel better. So, Cecil's wicked self was going to have to get cursed out once more if the conversation went left. Which it was going to. Because Cecil can never say the right thing.

"What she means to say is: why are you here, crashing our date after you ruined the bond we had?" Mark opened the door for the conversation to begin.

Truthfully, he was tired of Cecil, he needed to get the circus out of the way. Your teeth were loudly grinding together, as you tried to hold it together and you yanked your hand from Mark's grasp. From the corner of his eye, he saw your shaky hands grasping the edge of your dress and pulling at it. The dress yanking was almost representative of the last shreds of your self-control being torn apart

"Well. I just wanted to have a conversation. You two know what I've done. I'm not proud of it but it needed to be done." Cecil began, straightening his tie. His blue eyes avoided your glowing green ones.

"Okay. And you are here at our dinner table because...?"

With an eye roll and a self-righteous sigh, Cecil leaned back in his seat.

"Because you two wouldn't take my calls. I had to find her somehow."

Then there was a loud slam. You were standing up, arms shaking and nails scratching into the table. Other tables went silent and even the wait staff stopped moving.

"You lame bitch!"

Well, there we go.

"You funky, fake, low down, lying bitch!" You continued, cold air slipping into the restaurant. Your curls began to turn white from the bottom of your defined curls as your arms shook. The lighting flickered momentarily. A father ushered his wife and children quickly out of the restaurant while others waived down their waiters for the check.

" 'Oh! She's not taking my calls, poor me! I'm so sad, and old and nobody likes me! It's not like I'm a lying fuck who uses teenagers like pawns, I've done nothing wrong! I only stole her DNA after buying her from her birth parents and raising her in a lab as if she was my daughter then cloned her against her knowledge then trained that clone to try and kill her if anything went wrong! Poor me, poor Cecil!' You whiny bitch, how dare you?!" The mocking tone mimicked a baby crying on the steps, as you dramatically waved your hands around to make fun of Cecil.

Mark would've laughed if the restaurant wasn't quickly emptying. He was starting to think he should've just kept quiet. Green flames roared from the kitchen; chefs screamed in terror and objects all around began to float and fly about hazardously.

"You need to calm down. I came to try to talk to you," Cecil ducked as he nearly dodged a tea pot flying at his head.

"Not end up on the ten 'o clock news. You know I care about you. It doesn't have to be this way." He continued, his voice cracked. A sliver of emotion escaped.

A dry chuckle was his response as you rolled your eyes.

"Cut me a fucking break Cecil. I already told you that I don't like you! You care about me cool; I don't care about you. You lost that chance when you cloned me and then let that clone escape and try to kill me. Which failed by the way, kind of like your first and only marriage."

You sat back down next to Mark, throwing your phone and other things back into your purse. You clearly did not care to argue with Cecil. You said your piece and Mark could see you slowly coming to a brutal realization. No matter how much you cussed Cecil out you weren't going to feel better.

Because Cecil hurt you. He hurt you bad. There was a hole in your heart, where the bond you had with the man who raised you was gone. And nothing was going to heal that but time and space which Cecil did not want to give you.

A plate smashed on the ground as your nail got stuck on the lining of your purse and you pulled in frustration. Cecil let out a sigh as Mark slipped his phone and wallet into his pocket. The best thing to do to avoid a damages bill in addition to the cheque was leave.

"I wasn't trying to hurt you. It was just a precaution. Would you just give me a chance to explain?"

For a moment you stopped. there was a flicker of the girl Mark meant almost two years ago. The girl that loved her dad. She didn't doubt him; she tried to rationalize almost everything. It was her dad. He was a good guy; he did things to keep people safe. She loved him and he was supposed to love her. Just for a moment the green eyes returned to brown but quickly went back to a glowing green. Just at the idea of finally having peace of mind.

Everything in the restaurant clattered to the ground, and the remaining bystanders quickly fled the cold room. The kitchen staff sprinted for safety and made it out the door and the sound of police sirens approached rapidly. Ironically Mark's second phone started to ring.

You dubbed it the 'Invinciphone', and it was probably ringing to report a superpowered disturbance. Your other phone began to buzz inside of your purse. The disturbances being called to handle the disturbance, how poetic. Mark would've laughed if he had time too, now he had to plot your escape.

Cecil rubbed his fingers across the bridge of his nose. He was no doubt stressed, pissing off the people who he really needed as his allies and probably experimenting on puppies or some shit.

"Listen. I can get this called off. You two don't get arrested or end up with warrants out for destruction of public property." He placed his phone on the table. One phone call. But you don't need to hear out shit. Not from Cecil. Mark will take jail time over watching you destroy yourself from this conversation. Guilt seemed to possess his body, if only he just sat there and engaged in the staring contest.

"The call is on you guys. But maybe make the choice before we get tear gassed. I just want you to hear me out."

The choice was ultimately yours. Because Mark already choked the fuck out of Cecil for trying to kill him, and he choked him again that day you ended up unconscious in the hospital after fighting yourself. He had nothing else to say to the man. The choice, just like the pain you felt from Cecil's evil ass, was yours.

The gears clicked in your head slowly. Your hair went back to its original color, your eyes now their natural deep brown. No more floating items and flames erupting from the kitchen. Sadness took over your face, hanging heavy on your features like chains pulling you down.

Hands folded in your lap; you stayed silent for one minute. Then two. Your eyes trained on the phone on the table while you thought. The next emotion on your face was disappointment.

"...You set this up. You came here, you knew I would get angry. You know I can't control my powers when I get this upset. You knew how bad you hurt me then you used that to get me angry. All you had to do was wait for the police to get called. So, you could give me an ultimatum and force me to stay. Because you would let the police arrest me. If I escaped, you would let the military hunt Mark and I down.

You knew I'd be held in a prison where people with superpowers are treated inhumanely. Because you set up those systems for us to be abused in prison. And you did all this, using the pain you caused me. So, I would listen to you say a bunch of bullshit I don't care to hear."

Cecil shifted in his seat, his fingers itched on the table, and he glanced away from you. The three of you sat in a sobering silence. But things were different. As the room returned to normal temperature, Mark felt his rage heating up.

He'd been used by Cecil, and while it hurt, he didn't take it so personally. How could he? He had his own father. While that guy was a lying asshole, he was a good father. He had 17 years with his dad who was his actual dad. He didn't have to learn to trust his father only to have it broken. His entire life, up until the end, his dad loved and cared for him. Cecil wasn't his dad.

And he wasn't supposed to be yours either. He knew you were an experiment. But Cecil knows what Cecil is. So why would he even allow himself to get close to you. How could he allow himself that act of selfishness and then punish you for its years later? Then to take it further to use the love he gave you as a weapon.

Before he could speak, a chill ran across Mark. Your hand was raised in front of him in order to stop him. You needed him to just bear witness. And you're his girl, so in this situation Mark would do whatever would make you feel better.

"Call them off Cecil. Say your piece. Then we're leaving."

Cecil stood up, stepping away from the table leaving you two behind for a moment.

"...What do you wanna do?" Mark whispered, hands finding yours. He brushed a piece of your hair out of your face. His eyes found yours and a ghost of tears in your eyes.

"I just need to let him hear himself talk. If you need to leave, you can. I can get him to leave us alone, but I have to let him think I'm hearing him out."

You must not know him. No way was Mark about to disappear and leave you with this evil fuck. His forehead pressed against yours. You were tangible. Couldn't just fall through you, you weren't a ghost right now. Like most times you were tangible. The only issue was that Cecil didn't see you that way. He saw you as a weapon he couldn't fully control, the ghost girl who he could control through the human half.

"Fuck this guy, let's just leave! The police can't stop us." Mark whispered while you closed your eyes. You were giving up. Giving up on fighting, giving up on trying to stick it to Cecil. All you could do right now was play his stupid game.

"Don't let him hear you say that. He'll get the reanimen on you." You teased through the cracking of your voice and bubbling of your pain.

Cecil came back, clearing his throat before sliding into the seat across from you. You and Mark separated except your hands. He was the grounding force keeping you human here. You were his grounding force from jumping across the table and choking Cecil out AGAIN.

Instead, he sat in silence again.

"You made us stay here and did all this only to say nothing?"

"Mark."

"I can't stand this guy. Sorry."

But Cecil ignored Mark's loud disdain. He loosened his tie completely then exhaled as if he was fighting himself.

"It wasn't my intention to hurt you. You know I care about you. I raised you. But I have to look out for the people. It's my job, you know that. Yes, you were my little girl. I still care about you. I still see you as my little girl. I cloned you, because I had to be ready for the worse. Your powers are unstable. You can't control them. Tonight made that clear.

It doesn't have to be hostile between us, is what I'm trying to say. I made a mistake but I still...I care a lot about you."

The red and blue lights outside dissipated, then the crowds of people slowly melted away. You sucked in a deep breath and squeezed Mark's hand for courage.

"Okay. I don't care about you anymore. I can't. I did, and you used that and almost cost me my life by making a clone of me that was programmed to kill me if I went bad. So, I really cannot care about you anymore. I have too much pride and dignity as a young woman to let myself be disrespected by someone who has no understanding of boundaries.

It is your job, yes. Your job has consequences. One of those consequences is that you no longer have access to me. I will not come to Christmas. I will not come to dinners on Sunday. I will not invite you to any sort of milestone in my life. You have your job to do, now I hate you and your job.

I have never given you any sort of impression that I am evil. You clearly saw something in me. You made me this way. I am an experiment. I was genetically modified in a lab, you know that. I don't even know my actual birthday. My 'birthday' is the day my powers were deemed a success. My entire life was engineered by you and I refuse to have any further part of it. You made me and then punished me.

You made me, then turned on what you created, before creating something that's sole purpose was to kill me. For no reason other than you could no longer control me and you because you saw me as an object to control rather than the child you raised and said you loved."

Cecil nodded, gnawing on the inside of his cheek and looking down. Mark felt the sweat from your palms, your skin cold and clammy.

"You made the issue worse, by following us here and then antagonizing me. You showed me that when things don't go your way you will attempt to manipulate me. I can no longer trust that anything you do or say is genuine. You hurt me. You hurt my boyfriend. What we had, that bond we had is gone. You killed it. I need space and time to be able to be around you. Do you understand?"

"I don't want to lose you." For once, Cecil came out with honest emotion. He was clear with his feelings. When it didn't matter anymore, he was honest with you. When it was too late. The bond of father and daughter was long gone, and it started to die the moment he tried to kill your boyfriend.

With a sigh and a shake of your head, cold tears escaped and slipped down your cheeks.

"You already have." The conversation was done with.

Mark stood up, making way for you to get up. You got out of the booth, wiping tears from your face. Mark's arms wrapped around your hips to support you. He could feel the emotional exhaustion radiating off of you. You two went to fly towards the ceiling, instead of going for the door.

"And tell Donald to stop sending me flowers."

Then you were gone, you two went through the ceiling thanks to your powers granting you two the ability to pass through the wall. In the empty Chinese restaurant, all that remained was Cecil. Cecil, and the dead body of that father-daughter bond he killed.

[wrapupbunny]

DILF! YANDERE TROPE! I can't help myself. He seems dashing.

Let's set up the scenerio. Personal perspective because dang it, he's perfect.

The event has gotten dull after some moments, and individuals discuss it with one another. I idly sip my champagne, wondering when it will be appropriate to leave. My 'friend' invited me. It was probably a case of formality rather than a necessity. People would wonder. Unfortunately, I would have done the same.

"Mind if I sit? The other tables are fully occupied." The emphasis perks me, and I turn to the voice.

He's wearing a suit, likely custom from how well it hugs his form. The pair of Oxfords further emphasises him, shiny under the light. The most alluring detail of all are hints of silver that make their way across his hair and slight wrinkles that represented his maturity.

He's visually appealing, to be honest.

"Hm...sure." I respond, and he sits two seats away from me, but close to my eye view. I am right. He's dashing.

"Thanks." He places his drink on the table, observing me. "How's the event so far?" I ask, seemingly lost for words and feeling as though a request to know his name might be too intimate. I'd prefer if he requested mine first.

"It's good. ['F'/N] planned well. It has about everything we would enjoy." He responds, a polite smile on his face which has me reeling. I smile as well, infectious to his. "Yes, I'm sure she's happy to see her guests pleased."

"Hm...what's your name?" He finally asks, a gentle smile still on his face as he leans on the table. I'm flustered beneath his perceptions but answer. "[...]? It's a beautiful name, it suits you." He responds, eyes on my own for a moment before sipping his drink. "I'm [...]."

"[...]. It has a nice ring to it."

We discuss much about the party and snippets of our lives. Unfortunately, someone requests to speak to him, looking at me as well for permission. "This night has been eventful. Thank you for your time, [...]." He says, standing up. "You're welcome, [...]. It was fun." He moves his hand to shake with mine, and I accept.

His hands are larger than mine, and fill me with a second's worth of comfort. "Have a pleasant night, [...]" "You too, [...]"

He leaves, and I check the watch and the event. Some have begun to leave, and it's a sign that it's the perfect time.

Oh, how I wish numbers were exchanged. He probably has a family of his own and conversed for pleasantries. Well, that's the end of that.

What I don't notice is the lingering look he has while I place my phone in my bag and a raw determination to see me once more.

Good thing he's close to multiple sources of information.

Aaah, I want him so bad it's criminal! ((o(^∇^)o))

Yes, I have a thing for older men. (*´∇｀)ﾉ

I was thinking of going with a country perspective, but I love this version. I wanted to add a yandere element to this and to write more, but it's been a while, and I'm rising from my C.AI slump.

Old DILF Yandere, save me, please? (Even if I don't know what to name you.)

Also, I wish I was a bunny hybrid right now...guess my persona.

[smilepebble]

hi so here's my big oersted & alethea analysis/alternate reading

(this post contains spoilers for the whole game + some discussion regarding a fictional suicide.)

i have this kinda specific vision of oersted and alethea's relationship that i don't fully think is actually what we're supposed to be getting from canon but like. just come along with me here in this reading...

the defining nature of oersted and alethea's relationship is, of course, that it's an arranged marriage. the only reason they are wed is because the king has decreed that the winner of the tournament will be wed to his daughter. in this sense, alethea is nothing more than a tournament prize, and i think she's very much aware of it.

but what else can she be? she's a princess, raised not to be a person, but to be a symbol of a kingdom and a political bargaining chip. and metatextually, her role is the damsel in distress, the prize for the player at the end of the game.

but wouldn't it be nice, to be something other than a prize or a pawn?

in the scene on the balcony she speaks, multiple times, about her devotion to oersted, saying that she is his. that she... belongs to him, really. because what else can she be? and i think says this to convince herself just as much as she's convincing oersted. shes trying to force herself to fall in love with him. because maybe if she can fall in love, and if someone can love her for the person she is, then she won't feel trapped in her role anymore.

oersted... well, we don't get much insight to his thoughts about this (or much of anything) before everything goes to shit. but he seems pretty happy with this situation. it probably feels like he's earned this. like hes won. and-- once again getting into the metatextual analysis of the middle ages chapter-- oersted is used to play around with our idea of the "player character". his obsession with winning comes from us, the player, because... well, what else is the player supposed to do other than win the game?

oersted is also very much obsessed with alethea, or rather, the idea of alethea in his mind. during the middle ages chapter he believes that if he can just save alethea then everything will be alright: he'll no longer be branded a traitor, and he'll have fulfilled his role as the hero. saving alethea is the "win condition" here. it's what oersted is made to do.

i think it's also very notable that alethea is the one who's shown the most outward affection towards oersted. although it was forced, it still had an incredible impact on him. look at the way he responds to kindness from the protags in the ending: he's desperate for it, clings to it like a lifeline! because he's the player character; he's supposed to be loved, supposed to be believed in. therefore, playing his role in this story is supposed to benefit him, if he can just win.

but then alethea kills herself. she does so for different reasons in canon, but imagine this for me: she's been waiting, waiting, waiting for oersted to come save her. but during this time she can't help but wonder... what does oersted see when he looks at her? does he see her? or does he just see a prize, a finished game, the symbol of a good ending?

and then someone finally comes to save her and... it's streibough. its here that her forced perception of her and oersted's relationship falls apart. streibough isn't the prince, isn't the hero, isn't obligated to save her... but he saved her anyway. so, maybe streibough is truly devoted to her. and maybe oersted's actions were just for his own merit.

unfortunately for her, the truth isn't that pretty. finally, oersted makes it to the archons roost and confronts streibough. alethea is just out of view for this confrontation, but certainly within earshot, and when she hears everything that streibough says, she realizes that... oh. this is just another contest. once again, shes just a prize in a game between these two men. its all she can be in this story. she cannot escape it. she cannot be a person so long as this role hangs over her head.

therefore, the only thing she can do to be a real person is to take her own life, and remove her status as a prize.

it's a very sad ending for alethea. she lives a short life unable to escape her archetypical box-- not because she never tries to escape, but because the male cast keeps pushing her back into that role. i don't believe oersted and streibough actively mean to do this, but that's not relevant. the end result is the same.

after oersted becomes odio, his already distorted perception of alethea becomes nigh unrecognizable. even after he forgets his and his friends names, alethea remains a fixation in his mind. she, in his mind, has become a saint and an arbiter of justice (see: saint alethea (attack) in the purity of odio fight, and the line "for justice, she demands it..." when fighting oersted in the bad ending). he idolizes her, worships her, but by doing so, he dehumanizes her. he's turned her into a symbol: the exact thing alethea did not want to be. what is this feeling, oersted? is this what love is?

and of course, alethea's horrified by this! when reading alethea's mind in the dominion of hate, she begs for the protagonists to "end this horror".

and in a literal sense, she's talking about oersted's reign as odio, but metatextually... perhaps she's realized, that the only way to escape a story's role is to escape the story itself. and the only way to end the story is to save oersted.

that's pretty much the extent of my thoughts! i think the dynamic between oersted and alethea is a fascinating one, since it's built solely on societal and archetypical expectations, but crashes and burns because of that expectation.

like i said at the beginning, i don't think this is the intended reading. frankly, i think this game is way too misogynistic to intentionally explore alethea to this degree. perhaps you could joke that live a live is so misogynistic that it made this interpretation possible by complete accident, but that's neither here nor there.

to be clear, me calling oersted and streibough's actions misogynistic isn't me demonizing them or calling them irredeemable. rather, i think that it's an interesting character flaw to explore, especially since live a live is a story about stories. it's a great way to explore how this bias affects how we treat female fictional characters. additionally, i believe that the character flaws of the middle ages cast are especially important, as it's through everyone's refusal to acknowledge the flaws within themselves and the people around them that everything goes horribly wrong in the first place. i have more thoughts on this specifically but i think ill save them for another post.

quick shoutout to my friend henry (@/thepeacockshallstrut) who co-authored this reading. thank you for being insane about jrpgs with me bestie

anyway. in conclusion:

[raven-6-10]

SIGN LANGUAGES IN THEDAS

@zombiefishgirl and I started talking and now I'm making it into a separate post, because I have Ideas.

Generally speaking, I don't think every place has a sign language or even knows such a thing exists. But there are places which have their own sign language or which use one that originated in another country/culture.

Now, which places I think have some kind of sign language, in no particular order.

Antiva

Antivans most definitely have their own sign language, which can be learned if you know where to find a teacher. And, to nobody's surprise really, it has origins among the Crows.

More specifically, the Antivan Sign Language (ASL) is derived from Crow handsigns, which are used when stealth is paramount. After all, you can't endanger the mission just to gossip with your fellow assassin (or to pass orders). Nope, that's what the handsigns are for.

Each house has their own specific signs, kept secret from the outsiders, but as they started to co-operate more and the amount of collaboration on missions increased, a shared vocabulary was developed. And it was that shared language that has found its way first to the civilians living around and among the Crows, and from them to the general population of Antiva.

Nowadays, there are tutors who can teach you the ASL, either in a classroom setting or offering individual lessons. And it is not uncommon for people working in professions where their workplace is full of noise - and the loss of hearing is an unfortunate inevitability - to know quite a few phrases and words, and know how to finger spell many more.

Nevarra

Similarly to Antiva, the Nevarran Sign Language (NSL) originated in a secretive organisation before becoming knows among the general populous. Unlike Antiva, the organisation in question is much more benign, being dedicated to the preservation of the dead and, through them, the history and culture of Nevarra.

The mortalitasi.

Them and their elite order of the Mourn Watch is where the NSL has its beginnings.

The fact is that despite their many and varied techniques and methods of preserving the dead, the progress of decay is inevitable. Sooner or later, each and every body will be reduced to bones and then to dust. And one of the first things to go are the vocal cords, without which it is not possible for a soul to speak when recalled to its body.

(Spirits, being entities without physical bodies in the first place, are not so limited, though the exact methods they use have not been replicated to anyone's knowledge.)

In response to this loss of faculties, the caretakers of the Necropolis have worked tirelessly to create means by which the dead could still communicate with the living. After trying and discarding several methods, they have finally settled on a language of handsigns, which has since then significantly expanded in both vocabulary and users.

First finding its way to those Watchers injured in the course of duty, who were no longer able to vocalise and to their families and friends outside of the Necropolis. From there, the NSL made its way to universities, circles and private tutors of the rich, who taught the language to anyone who expressed interest in learning it and could afford the lessons.

It is in fact considered a sign of good education for a noble to be able to converse easily using the Nevarran Sign Language.

Orzammar

Another place which has extensively developed its own sign language is the dwarven kingdom of Orzammar.

Similarly to the Nevarran example, it was first developed with a thought for those who were no longer able to communicate conventionally. That is, for the needs of the smithing caste, many of whom would experience the loss of hearing due to long hours spent in the forges.

Due to this, the Orzammar Sign Language (OSL) is an incredibly precise and technical language in terms of vocabulary - there is a separate pronoun for every caste so that there's no place for ambiguity and, at the last count, there were thirty-seven words for iron ore - each one used for ores of different purity and origins.

Despite this complexity, the OSL is widely known and taught among the smithing and mining castes, among the Shaperate and the Legion of the Dead. It is also more or less known to the members of other castes and even for the casteless it's not impossible to learn this language. (In fact, many casteless women planning to go noble-hunting will go out of their way to learn it to increase their chances.)

In light of this, nobody can surprised to learn that the creator of this language has been declared a Paragon.

Ferelden

Ferelden does not have its own separate sign language. It does, however, have extensive ties of trade and blood with Orzammar due to their respective locations.

It is not uncommon for casteless dwarves to look for better prospects on the surface, be it by finding a craft in one of the many villages and towns, or by becoming merchants and facilitating the trade of goods between the two kingdoms. There has also been cases of exiled families of other castes finding their way to the surface and settling down in proximity to the entrance to their old home.

As such, it should not come as a surprise that the OSL has become somewhat known among the Fereldans, though nowhere to the point it is in Orzammar. No, the knowledge seems to be mostly limited to the people in villages in the vicinity of the entrance to the thaig, various dwarven families and the merchant and noble houses who conduct regular business with the dwarven kingdom.

Dalish

The Dalish elves do have their own signs used for non-verbal communication, although calling it a language is perhaps too generous.

In truth, it has much more in common with the Crow handsigns, being a collection of short and simplistic gestures used to communicate silently when any kind of noise would be a prelude to lethal danger. Whether it is a hunt for a particularly vicious beast or a group of humans too close to a camp, those signs allow the hunters and warriors to coordinate with each other their next course of action.

While there is an attempt at maintaining the uniformity of gestures and meanings, with each Arlathvhen allowing for comparisons and modifications, the truth is that each Dalish clan has its own vocabulary of signs. As such, it is not uncommon for hunters from two different clans to be completely unintelligible to each other.

[softquietsteadylove]

Hello love, how are you?

I know you have done a couple of this already, but may i ask for one where Thena is suffering because of her period and Gil is being a good boyfriend and taking care of her, pretty please.

Also thank you for all your works they are amazing 🩷🤍.

"Thena?"

He didn't get any response as he cracked the door open even further. Which, he wouldn't under any normal circumstance. But not only was this bathroom at an end of the school that no one ever used, he had gotten an inside tip.

"Babe, I know you're in here," he broached carefully. She wasn't in here for no reason.

"Get out."

There she was. But it didn't have her usual sharpness. Plenty of acerbic distaste, certainly, but it had a kind of morose undertone to it.

Gil pressed the door closed behind him, "come on, sweetheart. Sersi sent me."

There was a stall door between them, but he could hear the look of betrayal on her face. "That little-"

"Hey," he assuaged, pressing his palm to the painted steel. "She's at the mall with Dane--who I know damn well you wouldn't want knowing about this, too."

"Whom," she corrected him, although even that lacked her usual gusto. "And that doesn't mean you were the acceptable alternative."

"Thena," he attempted in a sweeter voice. He looked down at the feet under the stall's gap. He had some sympathy; he didn't think of it as nearly so big a deal, but there were probably few things more personal to a girl than this. "Is it bad?"

She took her sweet time answering him, and even when she did, it came out as a miserable little warble. "I can see it a little."

A little would be enough. Especially if she was wearing white jeans.

"Do you know when it started?" he asked, in he thought was a pretty calm and cool way--logical, as his girlfriend would most appreciate.

She sighed (heavily). "After, or maybe even during practice. I managed to slip away from the team."

Gil frowned. Wasn't it, like, girl code not to leave one of their own in this state of distress? "You didn't wanna ask one of them-"

"I wouldn't say I'm that close with any of them," Thena spat. He didn't think she had any real dislike for them, either. But then again, his girlfriend didn't excel at vulnerability, and maybe this was too much for her to even turn to her fellow woman.

She had texted Sersi in blind hopes that her sister was close at hand.

"Okay, here," Gil sighed, pulling up the bag he had with him. He looked up, and then down, "do these doors have hooks on the inside?"

"You think our school has the luxury of something like that?"

Okay, yeah, she had a point. He huffed, "well, I dunno, so you don't have to put your bag or purse or whatever on the floor?"

"I'm not saying it's not a good idea, Gil, but no, they don't have that."

She really was feeling like absolute shit.

"Okay," he gave in easily. He set the bag on the ground and used his foot to slide it in to her. She did snatch it away from his gaze eagerly. "Sersi didn't say which one you liked, so I got a little pack of both, and-"

"Thank you--out."

He sighed again, but there wasn't much more he could do for her at this point. "Okay, okay, but I'm gonna be right outside the door."

"You don't have to, Gil."

He made a face at the stall door again, not that she could appreciate it. "I'm not gonna leave you like this."

"You could, though."

He didn't even really have anything he could compare it to--what she must be feeling at the moment. And for someone who struggled to talk about her own discomfort like she did... "I'm sorry, Thena."

It was so, so quiet. But he caught it--the little sniffle. The telltale sign that her misery was not just mere anger or frustration.

"There's no need, Gil," she tried to dissuade him again, more genuinely and less angrily this time.

"Babe, you know I've eaten you out, right," he commented rather dryly, "it's not like I can get freaked out by your period."

"That's-!" For however strong it started, it gave way to her misery not a second later, finishing in a whimper, "different."

She was right, it was different. But he was trying! He just wanted to make her feel better.

"I'll be outside," he reaffirmed to her door, pressing himself to it as if she would know he was trying to comfort her like that. "And I'm not leaving without you, so don't even try it."

"Fine."

Gil pulled himself away from the door slowly. He lingered, in case she was going to change her mind and tell him to stay. But she made not even a sound, which wasn't even that easy to do with the crinkly plastic pharmacy bag he'd brought in.

He had even had the wherewithal to ask them to double bag it, for privacy reasons! He thought that was a pretty smart move, on his part. He had gotten both tampons and pads, which maybe was a little overkill. But he didn't want her to get stuck with one if she was more comfortable with the other. And he'd thrown in some pain meds and some chocolate, just for good measure.

Gil leaned against the wall outside the bathroom door. They were at the very end of the hall, by the door that led straight to the fields. Now that all the practices were over, no one would be down here until teachers left or cleaning staff came to do their thing.

His heart ached for his poor Thena, imagining her discovering the blood and too uncomfortable around her teammates to ask for help with it. He wasn't entirely sure where her ire with them started, or if it was for Thena reasons or something else. But the fact that she had slipped away from them to endure the misery for herself spoke to how solitary a creature she really was.

He stood up straight as the door opened and Thena emerged with the bag in the crook of her elbow. She was staring straight down at the ground. "How do you feel?"

"Humiliated."

Gil smiled down at the top of her head as she headbutted him right in the chest. He didn't mind. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her hair.

His first instinct was to say something to lighten her mood, maybe a joke or something. But he felt the faint but real little spots of warmth in the cotton of his t-shirt. He rubbed her back, "it's okay."

Thena had never, ever, cried in front of him. Not even when she told him about Ikaris laughing at her for being a virgin. He was still determined to kick that guy's ass one day.

She pulled away, rubbing her eyes to erase the last of her woes for herself. "Thank you."

"Of course," he frowned. Like he was doing some great thing by helping her out with this? It was pretty basic boyfriend stuff, he was pretty sure. "You know I mean that, right?"

"I know," she grumbled, and there was some of his Thena starting to emerge. She stepped away from him, her arms wrapped around herself.

"You want me to, uh," he tilted his head, "check if you're good?"

"I would rather die."

He chuckled; now that was his Thena.

"Just," she mumbled out, embarrassment written all over her. "Give me your sweater.

He did so in an instant, pulling his black hoodie off his shoulders and wrapping it around her. She extended her arms on her own, threading them through the sleeves smoothly. He made sure it sat on her shoulders and then gave the bottom a tug to verify that it did indeed cover well beyond her (cute) butt.

She looked at him as she started pushing the sleeves up.

"Lookin' good," he grinned at her with a wink.

She rolled her eyes at him, but the way she let him take her hand told him she was still feeling a little shitty about everything. "Take me home?"

"You got it," he assured as gently as he could. As much as he wanted to offer to take her out and do something fun, it wasn't about what he wanted. And if she wanted to wallow in her misery for the night he would ask and beg and plead to join her in that misery. "You know-"

Thena didn't even turn her head, just gave him one hell of a side eye.

But he smiled, braving on for the love of his young life. "As I keep reminding you, I am in this for real, babe. Like, real deal, long haul-"

"Yes, yes, you have said," she sighed, although he could see her starting to smile again.

He gave her hand a squeeze. "It's not like I was never gonna be around for...something like this."

It showed on Thena's face just how much she appreciated his delicacy with it, even after the fact.

"It's not a big deal--not to me, at least," he shrugged, hoping he was saying the right thing. All he could hope was that she was really hearing him and getting how much he meant it. "And if you ever needed help like this again--just call me, okay? Text me, email me if you have to."

She laughed at the suggestion, but all he needed to see was that cute smile, showing off her teeth. She had a cute laugh, too.

"I'll be there, Thena," he finished, pouring his heart into it. "In a heartbeat."

"I know, Gil." Well, that was the end of that. It wasn't up for discussion anymore, and he would be pushing his luck to try and continue it.

But he happily let her release his hand, only so she could wrap her arms around his one and press her face into his t-shirt sleeve. "You gonna let me carry that bag for you?"

"No."

"Okay, fine," he chuckled. Whatever she wanted--needed. Anything at all. He looked down at her as they continued down the hall, taking their good, sweet time. "Thena, I-"

"I hope," she prefaced, giving his arm an extra squeeze, "you're not about to say something I wouldn't want to hear on arguably the worst day of my life."

Okay, so not the time for an I-Love-You. Their first, he had to keep reminding himself, no matter how many times he had already imagined saying it to her.

"Yeah, no, totally," he mumbled, resigning himself to keeping it in again.

"Just-" Thena pressed herself even closer to him. "Just wait a little longer."

He looked down at the top of her head again (since she wasn't up to looking at him yet, apparently). But she didn't have to ask; he was going to wait for her until the day he died, he had already decided.

It wasn't even really up to him. Somewhere along the way, he had fallen beyond the point of no return, and he would do anything - literally anything! - for her.

Thena let him kiss her forehead as they continued shuffling along, the hum of the fluorescents and the crinkling of the bag offering a soundtrack to their quiet moment.

"Y'know, I heard baths are good for cramps. We could-"

"Not a chance, Gil."

[sciderman]

I didn't want to ask about the hospital stuff, but I'm glad to hear you'll be getting treatment!! And I really really hope it goes well and helps you feel better, you deserve a less stressful life, a beautiful life free of the brain bees. My heart is with you!!

thank you so much anon!! i've been doing SO much to quiet the brain bees and it takes so, so much out of my day to keep those brain bees quiet. cannot WAIT to not have an active beehive in my skull.

[amischiefofmuses]

.

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

Just finished the show a few days ago, so that's why I'm only just posting this now.

[arklay]

MR. & MRS. WESKER 🤍

i was able to commission the lovely @rcehb-art on twitter for this piece of diana and wesker during their strange after-the-fact reception for their very private wedding. i am just so in love with this and how it turned out, and i can't thank rc enough !! she is so kind and amazing to work with and i can't recommend her enough if you're looking to commission artwork ♡

[asinglesock]

Gristle is soooooo scared of my violin. She especially hates the low notes, tremolo and anything too loud. She will cautiously sniff my bow but she shies away from the violin even if I barely pluck a string.

[yuki-world]

秦彻 | SYLUS ; PLAN

summary | sylus sets a time limit for you to retrieve the brooch from him. unfortunately, you don't get it in time no matter how hard you try, but fortunately, it's sylus you're dealing with.

tags | nsfw (smut), fem!reader, mention of handcuffs, vaginal penetration, creampie, 2.9k words

a/n : inspired by his affinity lvl 15 story (?) aka the one where he gets handcuffed to the bed

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“oh,” sylus raises a brow, clearly finding this whole situation amusing. he’s handcuffed to his own bed with you straddling him, teasing him by tracing your index finger over his body. just how cocky were you?

sylus takes a deep breath in. “so you think you’ve got me now, is that right?”

you hum in response, stopping your finger near his abdomen. “think? no, i know,” you reply confidently, letting out a slight scoff. there was no way he could move, so you could find it freely as you pleased. this was the best scenario, and luckily you didn’t fumble it as this was your last attempt before the deadline reached.

unbeknownst to you, it’s not that he couldn’t un-cuff himselfー it’s actually quite offensive that you think that. it’s more of him wanting to see how far you would go if he wasn’t going to intervene, because it’s fun. how adorable you look thinking you’ve won, how eager you look to finally win against him in something. and so, he watches. eyes locked onto your every action and reaction as you try to find the hidden brooch.

you start at the top of his robe near his neck, your hand making it’s way down, slowly feeling for any small and hard object. you pat at the material rested on his chest, but still no sign.

sylus gives you a small smirk, and you narrow your eyes. you didn’t exactly trust him per se, even if he promised to keep his word. what if this was just a trick? what if he was just toying with you? what if he didn’t have the brooch?”

“are you sure the brooch is even on you?” you questioned. his growing smirk was only making you more suspicious by the minute.

“accusing me, kitten?” he asks, feigning disappointment. “you haven’t even finished looking.”

you roll your eyes at his words, mumbling a small whatever under your breath as you continued looking for the brooch. you smoothed your palm down his robe, patting around his waist. still nothing.

you were getting desperate at this pointー you were almost there. this was the best effort you’ve made so far, and you weren’t going to let your plan fail so easily. you swallow, trailing your hand further down his robe, albeit hesitantly. your hands were at his thigh, the thin material the only thing separating your skin with his.

mentally shaking your head to snap out of your thoughts, you continue feeling for where the brooch might be.

suddenly, you feel something hard. it’s hard, no mistake, but it was far from small.

…that’s definitely not the brooch.

“i’d be careful where you’re touching,” sylus speaks, his voice almost making you jump as you retracted your hand quickly. a tinge of red spreads across your cheeks, and you try to defend yourself.

“shutー quiet,” you stuttered. “i didn’t mean to, okay? sorry,” you apologized, breathing out as you tried to maintain your composure. focus on the goal, you repeated to yourself over and over again. you meet his eyes for a split second, and god, you want to wipe that smirk off his face.

he lets out a breathy chuckle, watching you get distracted as you panicked to look for the brooch.

you finally get to the bottom of his robe, but you find absolutely nothing. where else could he have hidden it? he had to have it with him… that was a rule, right?

“i swear, you’re playing with me,” you accused, defeated. how was this possible? you set everything up perfectly, and the one thing you couldn’t do was find the broochー despite being able to check him freely? “be honest, is it really on you or not?” you asked, squishing his cheeks together with your hand so he looks at you.

“oh, look at that,” he states, ignoring your question before tilting his head up slightly, glancing at the clock, then back to you.

“time’s up.”

you hear a soft click, your head snapping to the sound of the handcuffs unlocking as you let your hand fall.

your body moves instinctively, feet touching the floor as you push yourself off his bed to make your escape.

…only for him pull you back and throw you onto the bed, landing with a soft thud against his pillow. you try to lift yourself up again, but your wrists get pinned by his larger handsー all the more making it hard to move. you start to squirm a little, but decide it’s of no use.

“you really are naive,” sylus sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. how you thought a pair of poorly made handcuffs were supposed to restrict him was beyond comprehendible. “since you didn’t find it in time, i get to have my way with you.”

“whatever, justー just get on with it.” you roll your eyes, trying to act nonchalant, but you can’t help the sudden wave of pleasure that shoots through your body at his words.

complying, he slams his lips against yours, the kiss filled with hunger and greed. the kiss was far from sloppyー he made sure you felt everything, both physically and emotionally, very calculated. his tongue darts out to swipe against your bottom lip, and you gasp.

he takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, the wet sounds of making out filling his room as he continued to french kiss you.

removing his hand from one of your wrists, he opts to grip your waist instead, subtly pushing your shirt higher and higher, until your bra was exposed.

you shouldn’t be enjoying this. yet here you were, squirming under him as your thighs rubbed against one another, eager to feel any sort of stimulation. his mouth felt so warm as he continued kissing you, and so did the atmosphere.

feeling the movement of your thighs, he lets go of your other wrist, spreading your legs apart before slotting himself in between them, his crotch flushed against you. he doesn’t break the kiss once, letting you grind onto his hardened bulge to relieve yourself.

“sylus,” you breathed out, pushing him away gently to catch your breath. you panted softly, a string of saliva connecting the both of your lips as he pulled back.

“what, kitten?” he leans back smugly, admiring how red your lips were. all his doing, of course. “you can’t even handle a bit of kissing?”

“that was not a bit of kissing,” you retorted, looking away. you noticed your clothes were starting to stick onto your skin, presumably from the heat. you start to slowly unbutton your shirt one by one, but he’s not having any of that.

he smacks your hand away, ripping open the shirt like it was paper, some buttons popping off. you couldn't even protest as he pulled your bra down, exposing your tits.

"what the fuck, sylus! that was my favorite shirt," you scolded, furrowing your brows. it was one of the few shirts you decided to splurge on after contemplating for a long time, and the fact that he just tore it like that...

"how much?" he questions, squeezing one of your tits.

"what? like, a little over a hundredー"

"insignificant," he cuts you off, latching onto one of your nipples. he already knew whatever value you said wouldn't matter much to himー he could buy you a million of those shirts and there wouldn't be a single dent to his bank account.

he continues to suck and fondle, alternating between each tit to give them equal attention. he bites occasionally, each time making you gasp. you thread your fingers through his hair, pulling every time he sucked or bit too hard.

after what felt like hours, sylus finally pulls off you with a pop, staring at the red marks, shining with his saliva around your tits. even better that it's from his doing. he lets out a satisfied sigh.

"don't... look at me like that," you whisper, covering his eyes, feeling slightly embarrassed.

he lets out a breathy chuckle, bringing your palm to his lips to kiss it. "you're getting shy now? you weren't earlier when you were touching me all over," he points out, pulling your pants and underwear off in one clean motion.

"and don't think i forgot when you brushed against my..."

"that's 'cause i was looking for the brooch!" you argued, letting out a defeated sigh. "...just fuck me already."

"it's interesting that you think you're in any position to make demands." he flips you over onto your hands and knees, giving your ass a loud slap, resonating throughout the room. "ass up, don't take your own sweet time."

you clicked your tongue at his attitude, but did as he told anyway. as much as you didn't want to admit it, you were eager. the last time the both of you had sex, he fucked you until you were on the brink of tears, moaning and drooling into his pillows that he had to change them after. it was amazing, to say the very least.

sylus shifts behind you, undoing his robe and getting rid of his boxers quickly. his cock stands erected, large obviously, and it's clear he's already been hard since the beginning. even if you don't turn around to look, you knew just how much pre-cum was leaking from his cock as he rubs the coated tip between your embarrassingly wet folds. so much so that you didn't even need any preparationー not even his fingers to spread your pussy open.

he gives your ass another slap again, before guiding his cock into your tight entrance. your pussy stretches around him to accommodate his girth, instinctively clamping down the moment it entered.

"ngh, sylus," you moan, fingers gripping onto his sheets, pillows, anything you could grab on to as he pushed more of his inches into you. you'll never get enough of how big he feels inside you, the empty space previously now filled to the brim with his cock, stretching you out to mold your insides to the shape of him.

"fuck... always so fucking tight, huh?" sylus exhales, bottoming out inside you. though, there was still some of his length left that your cunt couldn't take in. "this cock is too big for you."

you whined in response, spreading your legs further to take more of him in comfortably, but you could barely do so from how filled you were. there was simply no space inside you.

"aw, too much for you, kitten?" he mocks. pulling back to leave only his tip in, before slamming his entire length back into you.

"shutー ahー up!" you cry out as you jerk forward from the sheer force of his thrust. his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you back to meet each thrust of his cock. you should've known he was only going to go faster, his seemingly sweet and slow pace disappearing the moment he starts pounding into you at rapid speeds. his balls were hitting your clit every time he pushed his cock in, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

your sounds get louder and louder each time he fucks into you, so much so that you have to bury your face into the pillow to muffle your moans. it was going to happen againー his pillows stained with drool.

he slammed his hips against your ass harder, hoping to elicit more sounds from you. "sylus... mmph!" you moan, his name coming out unclear from how muffled you were.

"hmm?" he hums in question, pulling your hair to lift your face off the pillow. "who said that you could hide your pretty sounds?"

sylus pulls out before flipping you over again, this time taking a few seconds to admire your fucked out state. your face was flushed, half-lidded eyes and drool dribbling down the side of your mouth. he doesn't think he's ever seen a prettier sight.

"you're drooling," he points out, using his thumb to wipe some of it away. well, you knew that, but you don't care, because at this point, all you can think about is his cock. you've never been more grateful to him, more thankful that you met him, as he pushes his cock into you once more.

your walls feel so good around him, he has to take a brief breather before starting to thrust. such a tight cunt, he thinks again, because it's trueー he's never fucked this good of a pussy. wrapping around him so warmly, clenching onto him in all the right ways. he could die happy like this. he could die happy with you.

"fuck me, fuck meー fuck me," you beg, snapping him out of his thoughts. you push up against him, trying to move on your own, to take more of him in, to just do something. the lack of stimulation was killing you.

"stop," he hisses, gripping your thigh to stop you. "you're going to hurt yourself. let me do it."

and then he starts again, fucking you with so much vigor that you mentally question just how much stamina he actually has. he never lets his pace falter from then onwards, railing you as the bed starts to move along to his movements.

with no pillow to bury your face in, you couldn't hide your moans even if you wanted toー exactly what he wanted. you were screaming, "harderー fuckー yes! right there!"

"so noisy in bed," he groans, hands reaching up to intertwine your fingers with him. a small and sweet gesture, the complete opposite of how roughly he was ramming his cock deep inside you. repeatedly, at that same exact spot that had your eyes rolling backwards. if anyone was outside his doorー hell, not even outside his door, maybe even at a few rooms away, they would definitely still be able to hear you.

you wrap your legs around his waist tightly, feeling your orgasm approaching sooner than you thought. "sylus, i wannaー make me cum, please!"

no, he wanted to say. this wasn't your reward, you didn't even find the brooch. but he couldn't. because he was close too.

sylus wasn't going to deny you even if you didn't ask so nicely, even if you demanded him to. he knows the exact look on your face as you cum, and it's the same, perfect, expression that he loves so much each time. at your request, he lets go of one of your hands, dipping his fingers into your mouth before trailing down to rub circles around your clit.

unnecessary? yes, you were already soaking wet. just for good measure, he thinks. besides, you looked sexy with your mouth wrapped around his fingers, almost struggling with how much larger his digits were.

you start squirming, squeezing his hand tighter as he continues thrusting while rubbing, a deadly combo. "fuckー thaaat's it, be a good girl and cream on my cock."

"oh myー sylus!" you scream out his name as your orgasm hits you, eyes rolling back, nails digging into his hand, and your back arches off the bed. your pussy starts tightening and spasming around him like a vice. he feels you get so much, so much wetter that his cock almost slips out of you as he pulls back.

"such a sweet expression," he groans at the sight, pushing your legs back as he tries to angle his cock deeper into you. you try to close your legs from sensitivity, but he simply won't let you, not when he's so close to cumming.

"ohー yes, fuuuck..." he throws his head back with a final snap of his hips, his cock pulsing inside you as he pumps your pussy with cum, his thick load of semen coating your insides with warmth.

coming down from his high with a few more weak spurts of cum, he lets his head fall back down, a contented sigh as he pulls out slowly with a loud squelch. you whimper at the sensitivity, but also at the loss of his cock. his load takes a few seconds to dribble out, thick and creamy, leaving a trail down to your ass.

"satisfied?" he tilts his head, letting your legs down. "seems like you're done for tonight."

"yeah," you breathe out in exhaustion, feeling his hand caress your cheek. "the brooch," you paused, suddenly remembering.

"where is it, and... what's the actual punishment?"

sylus looks at you amused, reaching over to his robe tossed somewhere on the floor, unpinning the brooch before holding it towards you. "looking for this?"

you widened your eyes. how could it have been in his robe? you literally searched everywhereー

"i know what's going on in that little head of yours," he sighs, opening your palm to put it in your hand. "you got distracted, remember? you brushed past it and didn't even notice, kitten."

you groaned in frustration, mad at yourself that you didn't even notice. you basically just accused him for nothing.

"...and the actual punishment? for not getting the brooch in time?"

"no punishment," he states smugly, watching your lips part in disbelief.

"seriously? i put in a lot of effort into these plans, you know!" you smack his chest lightly. "i can't believe you."

"i'd say you gained a lot more than you lost," he says as a matter-of-factly, eyeing the white mess oozing out of your cunt.

"...shut up."

ー @yuki-world

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Yakuza - Valentine's Special

Romance is in the air and a certain yakuza is keen to teach you all about Valentine's traditions in Japan. Word Count: 4.2k Male Yandere x Fem Reader Mini Sequel to Yandere! Yakuza

As a hostess, you've been looking forward to Valentine's Day. Guests are notorious for spending big and tipping even bigger when romance is in the air.

One problem though. Your yakuza boyfriend does not approve.

"You don't have to work on Valentine's. My Family owns the club. I should get a say."

You ignore his complaining and the arms wrapped around your waist. You're focused on your makeup and no handsome, dangerous yakuza is going to distract you.

He changes tactics. "Onegaiya de? [Please?] Pretty please?"

You sigh and reach up to run your fingers through his hair. "Of course I want to stay home with you. But I need money. If you've forgotten, my brother still owes you. And besides, the house mother told me to come in today."

He frowns. "Naze? [Why?]"

"I'm very good at my job, that's why."

You manage to finish both your lashes and your lipstick before he speaks up again.

"Kurabu ni issho ni ikimasu. [I'm coming with you to the club.]"

You aren't surprised. It seems like he spends all his free time as your customer. As though being in a relationship isn't enough. As though he wants to have you both during and after work.

You turn and plant a kiss on his cheek. You leave behind a lipstick mark that he's in no hurry to wipe off. "If you want to spend all your money on me, I'm definitely not going to complain."

He grins in that lazy way of his and loops his arms fully around your waist. "Anata wa watashi no kanojodesu [you're my girl]. Who else would I spend my cash on?"

He drives you to work with one hand on your thigh. It gives you butterflies - the warmth of his skin bleeding through the fabric of your dress, the way he sometimes squeezes the meat of your leg like he subconsciously wants to remind himself that you're still there.

When he opens the car door for you, he brushes his lips past your ear. "Got a real nice surprise for you later."

You stop and pretend to fix your heels so you can look up at him through your lashes. "Is it the same surprise as last time? Because I loved that one."

Big, scary guy that he is, you think you can still see him swallow and freeze when you look up at him like that. He takes you hand and steadies you but the eyes that trace over your body are hooded, unreadable. "Not what I had in mind this time, no."

He inhales sharply when you step past him and 'accidentally' brush your hand over his belt.

"Too bad," you say, "I love that thing you do with your tongue."

It takes him a second to catch up with you. When he does, he wraps his arm around your waist and hisses in your ear.

"Anta, ijiwaruya na. [You unbearable tease]."

You can't help but smile. Personally, you'd describe yourself as an unbearable, romantic tease. It being Valentine's and all.

You're honestly looking forward to spending your shift with him. Even though he's started calling himself your kareshi, he still doesn't talk about himself much. You're not offended by it. There are a thousand little ways you've pieced together his past. The way he likes his sake hot and the way he turns his nose up at high end sushi, the way he holds his cigarette when he smokes and the way he can flick a match on his thumb. It all tells you a bit more than he'd probably like you to know. And each date you go on, each shift that he spends entirely focused on you, is just another opportunity for you to untangle the mystery that is your yakuza.

Unfortunately, the boss has other plans. You don't even get a chance to sit down before one of the other enforcers pulls him aside. He frowns at whatever the man is saying and then quickly presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Gomen ya de, daisukinahito. Shigotoya nen. [Sorry love. Gotta work]."

He's out the door before you can even object. The house mother narrows in on your table and less than a minute later she has a client seated across from you. She's built a habit of trying to cram as many customers into your schedule as possible when your boyfriend isn't around to steal you away. You can almost admire her dedication.

The first client of the night is a salaryman already happily flushed with drink. He tips you well, buys you several rounds of expensive drinks and gives you a drunken kiss on the cheek before he leaves. A very typical Valentine's date.

You get through a few more without any issues. Mostly businessmen not willingly to go home to an empty apartment. Your wallet gets noticeably fatter after each one. It's long past midnight when things finally go sour.

You're touching up your lipstick when the yakuza walk through the door. You can tell what they are at first glance. And worse, you know these aren't the usual guys.

You expect trouble. You aren't sure when you developed an instinct for yakuza business, but you know that the newcomers most definitely aren't part of the Family.

You try and watch them as subtly as you can. One of the regular enforcers goes up to meet them and - surprisingly - leads them to the back of the club.

The group passes right next to you. You keep your eyes on your compact and lipstick like you've never seen anything quite so interesting as YSL Loveshine. At the last second you look up, and straight into the eyes of a bleached blonde gangster with a mean smile. He must have been looking at you already, because he shoots you a playboy wink.

On instinct, you bow your head. Even if they weren't your Family, it wasn't a good idea to be caught lacking in respect.

When they're finally gone, you sigh in relief. Talk about scary. Those guys looked like their favourite pastime was baseball; the faces and knee cap variety.

You're about to get up and take your break when something makes you look over your shoulder. The blonde yakuza is leaning against the wall just outside the staff-only door. And looking straight at you.

Oh, please not today. You already have one yakuza in your bed and almost constantly blowing up you phone. You want absolutely nothing to do with Mr Tall, Blonde and Evil.

No such luck. He says something to the enforcer next to him and beelines towards you. Eyes locked on yours.

He slides in next to you - not across where a client would normally sit. You shift over to make room for him and wonder if there's something in the water that makes you particularly noticeable to men with a nicotine and tattoo addiction.

"Omae, jitto mi teruyan ka. Na n ya, kiniitta n kai, kawaī ko. [I noticed you staring. Like what you see, pretty girl?]"

His voice is raspier than your boyfriend's. And meaner too.

You can just...pretend to not speak Japanese. But one look at the blond's sharp, lazy smile tells you he'll know you for a liar the second you open your mouth.

"Omaeni mo onaji ko to kiitē wa, ikemen-san. [I could ask you the same thing, pretty boy.]"

He laughs, "She's got an attitude! Not scared of a big, scary yakuza?"

"Are you supposed to be telling me that about yourself?" You lean your chin on your palm and tilt your head. "What if I'm a cop?"

"Then you can put me in handcuffs right now." He let's his eyes roam down your body. "I'll happily do whatever you want, officer."

Okay. Pervert yakuza number two added to your collection. Could you get out of this somehow? A client is a client but you don't want to be next to him any longer than necessary.

"Don't you want a girl who can speak Japanese? I'm still not very good."

"What I want? We won't really be talking if we do what I want."

He pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket and lights one with an easy flick of his lighter. He inhales deeply and let's the smoke out of his nose, like a dragon.

"You got a boyfriend?"

That really does seem to be the first question these guys ask you. What happened to 'how are you?' and 'here's a fat stack of cash, do you want it?'

"Yes." You shrug, like this is just a casual conversation with another client and not a rival with a gun under his suit jacket. "He's part of the Family."

"Wakatta wa. [I see]." He offers you a pull of his cigarette. You almost decline, but you look into his eyes - a dark hazel - and realise what a bad idea that would be.

He holds your gaze as he presses the cigarette against your lips. You pull on it as lightly as you can, the tip flaring a bright orange.

It burns your throat and you turn away from him to cough out the smoke. God, that stuff is awful. Why the hell is your man always lighting one if this is what they taste like?

When you turn back to him, the yakuza is studying the cigarette. Your lipstick left a stain on the filter. Slowly, he brings it to his lips and covers the place where your own lips were. He pulls in deeply and tilts his head back, eyes closed.

"Sweeter than normal," he breathes.

Nope. Nope. Nope. It's flattering really, but you aren't an idiot. You don't want your boyfriend's rival sitting so close to you, you don't want him looking at you with eyes like liquid honey and you most definitely don't want him calling you sweet.

If you could telepathically summon your boyfriend, you would. Unfortunately, he's busy with whatever it is they took him off to do, and you're stuck making conversation with a man who's arm keeps inching tighter and tighter around your shoulders.

You try to stand up and excuse yourself, but he wraps a palm around your thigh and pulls you back down without even trying.

"I need to pee," you tell him. He grins, cigarette casting his features in shadow.

"Perfect. I'm really thirsty."

Alright then. Ultimate host club perv discovered. It's almost a relief. You were worried your boyfriend would continue to hold that unenviable title.

You're about to say something - probably along the lines of it would go down even better with a vodka chaser - when your boyfriend finally arrives. You can tell it's him by the way he let's the door almost slam shut behind him. (You've tried working on that but every time you bring it up, he just says that you're so cute when you're bossy and won't you please take that tone with him later tonight?)

The blonde must have followed your line of sight, because his grip gets just a little tighter on you. "That your boyfriend?"

He's already heading toward your table and his frown spells trouble.

"Yep." You wonder if the blonde would listen to you if you tried to warn him away. You doubt it.

Your yakuza's hair is messy and his sleeves are still rolled to his elbows. He must have come straight from whatever job he got called away for.

He stops right in front of you, his arms crossed.

"Times up," he says simply. "Her shift is over."

The blonde takes another pull from his cigarette. "This your girl?"

Your boyfriend tenses, "Un. Kanojo wa watashi no monodesu. [Yeah. She's mine]."

You can almost feel the room getting colder. Your boyfriend flicks his eyes at the other yakuza standing at the back of the club.

"What are you doing here?"

"Boss had business with your side of things. Said I could throw back. Sample the goods." Blondie runs his palm up your thigh. "I'd have risked coming over ages ago, if I knew you had such cute pieces."

Your boyfriend narrows his eyes. "Times. Up. She's got another date waiting."

The blonde yakuza makes a show of looking at his wristwatch. "Looks like I've still got five more minutes."

"Your watch is late." Every word is bitten off and curt. You've seen him serious before, but never like this. Is this what he's like when he's working?

It's easy to forget his job when he's sprawled in your bed with his head on your chest, muttering about letting him sleep for five more minutes. It's easy to forget that he's a gangster who breaks faces for a living. That he's dangerous.

After tonight, you don't think you'll ever forget that fact. It's terrifying to be across from him, even if his glare isn't directed at you.

The moment stretches - taut, awfully tense. Finally, the blonde breaks.

"Tch. I've got shit to do anyway."

He stands up - and just when you're about to sigh in relief - kisses you right on the mouth. You jerk backwards, more surprised than anything else.

He straightens and runs his fingers over his lips. "Even sweeter than I thought."

You scramble out of the booth and grab your boyfriend's arm before he can do anything stupid. The muscles under your palms are already coiled tight and you're terrified to see what might happen if that strength is unleashed.

You bow in a quick, half hearted way. "O jikan o itadaki arigatōgozaimasu. [Thank you for your time]."

And then you're dragging your man out of the club before he can muster any objections.

It's only when the cold February wind is kissing your cheeks that you dare to look over at him. He's looking back at the club, eyes narrowed.

"How long?" he asks quietly.

"Barely even ten minutes," you half lie. "Really. He didn't do anything until you showed up, I promise."

You tug at his hand. "It's late. Let's go home, please?"

He finally looks at you, eyes flat and face blank. That scares you even worse than if he was frothing at the mouth and swearing.

"Alright," he says mechanically, "Let's go home."

Usually you take the train to work or he drives you. So when he starts walking, you don't immediately realise the streets are all wrong. His car is nowhere to be seen.

Even though Spring isn't that far off, this late at night the city is still icy. You wrap your arms around yourself and it doesn't take him long to notice.

"Koko. Kore o kite kudasai. [Here. Wear this]." He pulls off his suit jacket and drapes it across your shoulders. It smells like him - cologne and cigarettes. You aren't sure when, but at some point that scent became the one you associated with safety, with home.

It's quiet. You can't exactly ask him what work he did while he was gone and you most definitely aren't going to mention the club again.

He's the one who finally breaks the silence. "Purezento o moraimashita. [I got you a present]."

He did mention that earlier.

"Can I guess what it is?"

That earns you a half smile."Mochiron. [Sure]."

"Chocolate."

"No. Not this time."

"Hmm... Flowers?"

"They make you sneeze."

True. But what else would he have bought you for Valentine's?

"A puppy?"

He doesn't immediately reply. Eventually, "I really didn't think about that one. Do you...want a puppy?"

You first instinct is to say yes. Who wouldn't want a puppy? Despite having him, your brother, and your friends from the club, Japan is still a lonely place for you. A puppy would remind you of home.

But it would also make Japan your new home. In a way you aren't sure you want. In your mind, it still feels like you'll leave soon, be gone next week or next month, when this debt issue is settled. Even your boyfriend feels temporary. This isn't your country.

"No," you say eventually, "Not yet."

He must be thinking along the same lines as you because at your reply, his smile thins and he looks away from you.

"Nande ya, ano ko ni inu demo kattaro ka. Muriyari ore to ora setaru wa. [Shoulda got her a damn puppy. Force her to stay with me]."

You don't understand Japanese well enough to understand him when he changes his dialect. He manages a smile.

"Not a puppy either. Do you give up?"

You hate losing. You pull his jacket tighter around yourself. "...Yeah I give up."

He slows to a stop."Mewotojite. [Close your eyes]."

He takes your hand in his and lays something in your palm. You open your eyes to see a diamond necklace on a bed on midnight blue velvet. And it's definitely diamond - even in the neon soaked streets of the Red Light District, it sparkles. You gasp.

You're almost scared to touch it. It looks beyond expensive. Like something you pass in a store window and tell yourself maybe someday.

"You like it?"

You look up at him, eyes wide. "It's incredible. I've never... I've never owned something this beautiful."

He looks beyond smug. He plucks it out of the box and in one smooth move has it around your throat. His fingers brush the nape of your neck as he fastens the clip.

If you were on you own, you'd never dare to wear it out on the street. But only a colossal idiot would try and grab it off your neck when there was an armed yakuza right next to you. You shouldn't feel safer in the company of a criminal, but you do. God help you, you do.

He presses a kiss against your temple."Watashi no gārufurendo ni totte saikō no mono dake.[Only the best for my girl]."

It scares you a little - how much he's willing to spend on you. How are you supposed to repay a gift like this?

"Ie ni kaerimashou.[Let's go home]," he coos in your ear.

You laugh and loop your arm through his. "Want me to show you exactly how much I love my gift?"

"Yes." His voice is low and almost strained. "God yes."

It's only when you're halfway down the street that you remember you have something for him too.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" you spin away from him and dig through your handbag. "Ta-da! A hostess at work was telling me that it's usually the girls who give gifts on Valentine's."

You hand over the chocolate you bought him. It's a thick slab with Turkish delight in the centre. You've stuck a plethora of pink and red hearts to the box, each one with a sappy little quote in the centre.

You feel a little silly giving a gift like this to a yakuza of all people. But you also want to do something for your boyfriend, even if it is sickeningly romantic.

You picked up on him liking Turkish delight when your brother bought you a box, and it was mysteriously empty when you got home that day. Your yakuza claimed he didn't touch it, but he tasted suspiciously like rose candy when you kissed him.

He takes it from you carefully. "For me?"

You stand on your toes and loop your arms around his neck.

"Will you be my Valentine?"

He's quiet for a moment or two, looking at you like he just can't understand you. Finally, he pulls you into him and buries his face in your neck. He takes a deep breath, but when he speaks his voice is just a bit unsteady.

"Of course I'll be yours. Ore wa zutto omae no mon'ya de. [I'll always be yours.]"

A man with a rap sheet as long as a CVS receipt, and somehow he's yours.

You pull him closer against you. "Thank you. For taking care of me. For helping me out when you had no reason to."

He hums quietly against your neck. "Nan demo surude, honma ni nan demo. [I'll do anything for you. Anything]."

He pulls away and something in his face tells you he's just had an idea. He peels the hearts off the box and carefully folds them into his pocket. He breaks off a piece of chocolate and holds it up to your mouth.

You're immediately suspicious of the smirk on his face, but you oblige and let him prop the chocolate between your lips. He leaves a piece sticking out of your mouth and before you can bite it off, he leans forward and does it for you. His hand slips around the nape of your neck to keep you still.

His lips barely brush yours.

He pulls away looking extremely satisfied. You've kissed him so many times already but your heart doesn't care. You can hear your blood rushing through your ears.

"Sweet," he runs his thumb across your bottom lip and then presses it against his tongue. "Just how I like it."

Damn him for a devil and a half. It's so totally unfair how giddy and nervous he makes you feel.

He nods at the building behind you. "Good thing we're already home."

"Home?" Is this his apartment? He never brings you to his apartment.

He leads you to the elevator and to your surprise has to use a key card to access the highest floor. The buildings in this part of town are cramped for space but when the elevator dings open, it does so in a broad corridor lined with heavy doors. He must be earning much more than you realised, to have a place like this.

He pauses on the threshold.

"Gotta carry you in. It's tradition."

"Only if we're newlyweds."

"Not true," He blatantly lies, hands drifting down your back. "Brings you luck for the rest of the year."

Before you can object, he sweeps his arm under your knees and scoops you up bridal style.

"Risuku wa toritakunai de. Un wa zenbu hoshī wa. [Not taking any chances. I want all the luck I can get]."

You don't get to see much of his loft-style apartment before he drops you on his bed. One knee already pressing into the mattress next to your waist.

He drops his head down to kiss the column of your throat.

"You'll be wearing nothing except your necklace when I'm done with you," he promises, voice already dropping to a slurred, needy growl.

Oh my. That's a new one. And you always took him for the lacy lingerie type.

You tug at his shirt but with one twist of his hand, he catches both your wrists. "No. You first."

"Impatient aren't we?"

His hands are already skimming down your back and unzipping your dress.

"Oh you have no idea how patient I'm being."

His lips dip past your collarbones and then lower still. You arch against his chest, breathless.

At the last second he pulls away. You practically whine.

"Move in with me."

You blink. "What?" Is he really asking you this while you're in your bra and panties? And when there are much better things to do with his mouth?

"You heard me. Maiban beddoni ite hoshī. [I want you in my bed everynight]."

You frown. Wouldn't it be dangerous? More dangerous than working in a yakuza club and sharing his bed already was?

His grip on you tightens. He isn't smiling anymore. "You're my girl. You should stay with me. Not your brother. And sure as hell not on your own."

"I-"

He slides down your body until his head is between your thighs. "Good. I'll get someone to move your things tomorrow."

"Wait, I didn't say -" He does something with his tongue that makes you gasp and arch your back.

"No more objections?" he mocks. You're too breathless to answer.

"Ēyan. Kikitakatta kotoya wa. [Good. Just what I want to hear]."

He's awake long before sunrise. You're still curled under his sheets, lovebites littered across your neck.

He didn't give you a chance to notice them last night, but there's a bouquet of roses waiting for you on the nightstand.

He leans in the balcony door, cigarette smoke curling between his teeth. Just watching you.

His girl. His to touch. His to have. His to hold and keep.

Do you have any idea how lucky you are that it was him you ran into that night? If it was anyone else sent to collect your brother's debt, they'd have just left you to drown under the mountain of interest. Let it get so bad that you couldn't possibly pay your way out and then offer you a job at a soapland. Hell, that was his plan too when he first laid eyes on you. Pretty thing like you would have made a fortune as a yūjo.

But then you went and made him fall for you. It's selfish of him to want you. He knows it's dangerous to have you on his arm. That blonde bastard from last night was proof enough. He knows, and still...

You can't expect a criminal to be selfless. You can't show him something precious and expect him to let it go.

"My girl." He exhales a cloud of smoke and leans his head back. "Gonna make you my wife someday. You just don't know it yet."

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

"Oh my god." The kid muttered, pacing back and forth in front of the summoning circle anxiously as he clutched some old book to his chest, "Oh my god, I just killed Nightwing."

"Uh," Nightwind started to speak, but didn't get far.

"Oh my god, my dad is Nightwing!"

"Wait, what?!"

That seemed to catch the boys attention and...yeah the kid looked a lot like he did as a teen. "I, uh" The kid rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "I'm kinda your clone. My parents made me and told me recently about how I was born and I wanted to meet you!"

He threw his hands up in the air, one hand still clasping the book, "They told me you were dead, so I tried to summon your ghost! I swear I didn't know!" This seemed to switch him back into whatever spiral ge was in before, "Oh god, I killed my own father."

Dick hurried to speak before he lost the chance again, "I'm probably still alive."

"Huh?" The kid looked over at him, a hint of hope in his features

"Yeah," Nightwing shrugged, "some other bats were with me. They're trained to keep my vitals up until they can get me back to the cave. Plus, I felt my soul pulled out of my body by force. I don't think you actually stopped anything from functioning."

The kid sagged with relief, "So batman isn't going to murder me?"

An odd sound came from within the summoning circle as Nightwing covered his mouth

"Are you laughing at me?! I'm being serious!"

This time, the vigilante made no move to hide his laughter, "We don't kill kiddo, besides he probably won't maul his own grandkid, right?"

Unfortunately this gave the kid something new to spiral over, "Oh god, my grandpa is Batman."

"How about we start over?" The bluebird asked, "I'm Nightwing, what's your name?"

"Um, Danny. Danny Fenton."

Dick gave an award winning smile, "Nice to meet you, Danny. Could you break the circle so I can get out?"

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki katsuki katsuki but you haven't told each other "i love you" yet. he's like in his third year and he's interning at endeavour's agency again. you're interning somewhere else, unfortunately for him. he gets antsy when you're not around, gets overstimulated just a bit more quickly. so whenever he gets back to the agency to go to bed he makes a quick call and he prays to god you're still awake, and when you are he mutes his mic so you don't hear the big sigh of relief he lets out.

he's asking you about your day first always, so he has your voice to hear to calm him down before he rants about his bullshit day. he grumbles about how you giggle about his experience. you defend yourself by saying he's just so dramatic when he tells stories. he scoffs, but chuckles just a bit when you copy his way of speaking.

it's just supposed to be a quick call, but katsuki wishes you could call all night. or, he'll do you one even better, he wishes you could just be here with him. where you're supposed to be.

so when he has to hang up, his shoulders hunch a little bit 'cus he can already feel his ears burning and he lowers his voice just a bit more cus you're the only one that he wants to hear his next words.

" all right, i gotta go."

"mmaaaaaww..." you whine over the phone, he feels an affectionate smirk pull at his face and he snorts "yeahh," he teases. "you free tomorrow ?"

you hum, thinking for a bit "i should be. 'round nine maybe ?"

"good, i'll call you." he says. "kay, can't wait." you giggle excitedly. "goodnight, suki. sweet dreams, okay ?"

there it is. his heart beats harder in his chest, he readjusts in his chair and he sighs. good night, i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you he wants to say. his face burns and he's sure to others he looks pissed as fuck, but it's only because he's trying to keep his blush down.

"yeah, yeah.." he gulps, ducking his head down so he's sure you and only you hears him "miss you."

it's soft, the way he says it. gruff and unfamiliar but honest. you offer him a sweet little giggle he's sure he'll think about before falling asleep, try to image your face and what you looked like to help sleep come to him easier.

"i miss you too, sooo much.." you swooned, voice sweet and shaky from the smile pulling at your face that he can almost see. "but i'll see you again soon, okay ?"

he grumbles under his breath in agreement. " yeah sure, whatever. gimme a kiss."

"ooh ? now you want my through-the-phone-kisses ?" you tease, voice playful. he can almost see how proud you are and it makes him roll his eyes.

a simple "shut up," is all he can think up, he repeats himself "gimme a kiss." he demands, scowl fixed into an almost pout.

and you do, you make it extra long for him and with a sweet little "mmuuah !" and a final good night and wishes of sweet dreams and good rest, you hang up. katsuki stays with his phone by his ear for a moment longer before he decides to get up and get ready for bed.

i love you, he wants to call back and tell you he loves you.

but you need rest, and so does he. so he'll tell you that tomorrow.

dreamy sigh,,, katsuki katsuki katsuki