#i would be so intimidated by him and his brains help lmao

[killemwithkawaii]

I always forget that Sal is a canon math and hard science wiz... On one hand, that's very sexy of him, and on the other, I can't help but imagine crushing on him in college, then seeing him carrying a textbook for a high level calc class and being like 'oh no, he's Smart™ QwQ'

[kiwi-on-ice]

Welcome to Tumblr!!

Would it be possible to request some Reinhardt x fem (nb) Reader where reader accidentally gives a drunken confession that they've had 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 thoughts about him??

Reinhardt x fem!reader

Summary: Always being drawn to the older and chivalrous crusader, a celebratory party after a successful overwatch mission causes secrets to be spilled, and pleasures to be experienced.

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+ smut, reader dresses fem and has a pussy but no she/her pronouns used, reader is a combat medic for overwatch, age gap, size kink, fingering, creampie (no threat of pregnancy).

Notes: Hope you enjoy sweetheart! Kinda went all in on the size kink and age gap so sorry about that lmao.

Something about your commanding officer, Reinhardt Wilhelm, had always captured the attention of your mind and body.

Whether it was his hulking frame that could make anyone feel small, his thundering voice that could be heard across the battlefield, or the sweet and chivalrous personality that lay beneath the rugged exterior; something about him was a pull for you, a magnet that you couldn't help but be drawn to. He may be older than you, more reckless, more of a fighter...but it didn't matter.

You remember as clear as day the first time you had been assigned to be trained under him, a new recruit wanting to make a difference in the world. Since Dr Zielger was responsible for taking you under her wing for the medic side of your job, lieutenant Reinhardt was to ensure you could handle yourself in a fight. And in walks the most intimidating man you've ever seen, 7'4" of muscle, wielding a hammer practically the size of you and then some. But when a bellowing chuckle erupted from his mouth, the sense of intrigue uncurled it's way from your stomach. From then on, intrigued was an understatement. Your eyes followed him everywhere. The movements of his arms on the field, or in the practice range when he'd wear a tank top that extenuated every part of his body as he trained. But then he started to help you, carefully moving your arms to show you good positioning and blocking, the feel of his fingers and how they practically consumed your hips or arm with their sheer size.

Reinhardt was special, and oh so gentlemanly. Even when he'd walked in on you changing, shielding his eyes and saying 'I didn't see anything!" as he backed out. Most men you know would have tried to catch a glimpse, but not him. He was special. And god did you crave him so badly. Craved the experience of showing him just how depraved your thoughts for him were. But you knew deep down it was a bad idea.

Not only was he your lieutenant, but he was much older than you. You knew he would never pursue you, too honorable. He deserved a woman of his own age, and you'd seen the way Captain Amari would glance at him when she thought nobody was watching. These fantasies should stay just that. Fantasies. Nothing more.

So after a particularly successful mission carried out, you wanted nothing more than to drown the sorrows of your unrequited lust in the complimentary champagne being offered at the closing party. Still, you'd dressed for the occasion, your dress flattering your figure nicely as you practically clung to the walls, glass tight in your grip. The garment isn't overly revealing, but certainly gave people a taste of how ravishing your body truly is. You can't help but glance around, noticing the way fellow agents laugh and discuss plans. When your eyes find Reinhardt, discussing something with Captain Amari in a hushed whisper, you down the champagne in one and search for another.

After more than a few glasses, the familiar blanket of haze runs over your brain as you walk rather disorderly to the bar stool. Settling yourself, you tap your fingers against the dark wood as you let your mind drift.

"Ah, enjoying the free booze i see."

That familiar voice always sent a shiver up your spine, but with the effects of the alcohol you feel yourself practically jolt into an upright position as the object of your daydreams settles on to the stool next to you.

"I myself am enjoying the revelry, quite a nice break from crushing omnics skulls open." he exclaims with a grin, as you barely fight the blush rising to your cheeks.

"Yeah, you look great tonight."

Oh my god did you just say that? Without too much thought of your blurted out compliment, he laughs heartily and shakes his head.

"Ah this old thing? Only comes out for times like this." he says, brushing some fibres from his suit lapel. The way the fabric clings to his body has your thighs pressing together urgently. "But I assure you liebchen that you look radiant as ever."

His sweetness just serves to fluster you more, as you bathe in his tone and words, despite how friendly they seem to be. You smile, the alcohol messing with your inhibitions as you gently poke his arm.

"Seriously, how do your muscles fit in here?" You feel the stretched fabric of his suit jacket.

"Oh, well i-i did get this tailored." he admits, a little sheepish as his eyes are firmly on where you placed your hand. When you squeeze, he has to force himself not to react.

"It's so impressive, you're so big Reinhardt..." you mumble, and god the innuendo makes him feel like such a dirty old man for the way his breath catches.

"You flatter me." he says, a little quickly. "My muscles protect those closest to me, as well as the world. I suppose that means they are..."

"Big." you finish his sentence for him, squeezing your bicep again. The rational part of your brain is screaming at you to stop, to realise what you're doing. But you can't seem to care. You're touching him, feeling him.

"Dear I..." he trails off, not quite being used to being in this position. With how hard it's been since the omnic crisis started, he's rarely had time to enjoy the company of someone, much less someone of your age.

"I meant it..." you blurt out again, your mouth seemingly having a mind of its own... "That you look great tonight. You look great all the time though..."

"How much have you had to drink? Perhaps it might be time to go and get some rest."

"No...want to be here with you. Always want to be here with you."

Looking away, Reinhardt truly is lost for words; an occurrence that doesn't happen often. The feeling of your touch, your words, they create a symphony of lust and desire to swirl in his chest, the attention of such a pretty young thing as intoxicating as the whiskey in his glass. But he knows he can't...he shouldn't...

"You're just so...hot. Especially after you train, I um..."

Seemingly your brain kicks back into its senses as you stop yourself. Oh my god, you just called him hot. Before you can run and hide from your embarrassment, he turns to you.

"You, what?"

You shake your head quickly, trying to save yourself whatever shame you still had left. But he presses.

"No, I'd like you to finish that sentence. After I train, what do you do?" he asks, knowing he's playing with fire here. You know there's no real way of getting out of this, so you drink the last bit of liquid from your glass to pluck up the courage.

"I go back to my room and i fantasise about you."

This knocks the air out of Reinhardt's lungs. He holds onto the whiskey glass so tight, cracks form.

"Scheiße" he mutters under his breath, before looking you dead in the eyes. "You want me? Is that what you're saying?"

You can't help but nod, embarrassment and rules be dammed. His breathing becoming laboured only helps further embolden you, as you run a hand down his front slowly. "I want you...more than anything."

He finds himself shivering under your touch, before he catches your wrist. "We can't."

You let out a petulant whine at his dissmissal, leaning further into him. "Why not?"

"Look at you maus, you're practically half my age. It isn't right...it isn't the way it should be. You need a nice boy your age to look after you."

"You'd look after me." you interject. "I know you would...you're such a gentleman."

"Gentlemen don't want to fuck the pretty recruit they train." he says rather gruffly, shaking his head. "Besides, you're drunk. I'll take you to your room."

He left no room for argument as he pulls you along, taking you up to your room. Taking this as a hint, you rub at his arm again before you get to the door.

"Goodnight...please think this over. It isn't a good idea." he says, the words sounding strained in his throat as he opens the door for you.

The next morning, the sunlight streams through your blinds like tiny daggers as your head feels like it's splitting. You really shouldn't have drank so much, blinking softly as you sit up in your bed.

Oh no. The memories of last night hit you like a train, the way you came on to him...the way you felt him up. Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god, you're screwed. Scrambling to get in the shower and get presentable, you pace around the room to think about what you should do. Ignore it? Pretend you didn't do anything?

You can already feel the awkwardness that that would bring, so with reluctance you find yourself walking towards your lieutenant's door and knocking on it softly. Opening the door, you swear you almost feel yourself gasp as he stands there in a t-shirt that clings to his body like you're desperate to.

"Oh, good morning!" he says cheerily, which makes the pit in your stomach get deeper. The word vomit seemingly spits out before you can hope to restrain it.

"Reinhardt I am so sorry for my inappropriate behaviour last night, I don't know what came over me I had too much to drink i-"

A hand on your shoulder interrupts your train of thought. "Dear, why don't you come inside a moment."

That statement clearly takes you off guard, as he guides you inside and closes the door behind you. Shyly, you take a seat on the small sofa and glance at the minimal decor idly as he walks over. The seating clearly wasn't meant for someone his size, as your thigh is pressed against his own as he takes a seat next to you.

"You don't need to apologise...about the way you feel." he starts, and now your stomach is fluttering for a different reason. "And I'm not trying to be cruel, it's just....not right. You deserve-"

"Don't" you interject, "Don't say I deserve someone better, or my age..."

He sighs, low and heavy as his hand balls into a fist in his lap. "Liebling, I am trying to be a gentleman here."

You swallow, realising his need for you. It's addictive, knowing that his breath is heavy and his muscles are tight because he feels like he needs you. Needs you just like you need him. So you gently place your hand on his arm, squeezing.

"I know, and I want you to be a gentleman. I want you to take care of me Reinhardt." you whisper, words sweet like honey to his ears as he feels the heat in his crotch.

His sharp breath fuels you, as your hand traces over to his broad chest, the warmth radiating in waves. With a smile, you angle yourself fully towards him, feeling up and down his chest as you gaze up at him. Catching your wrist just like last night, your gasp sends tingles down his back as he pushes towards you.

"oh gott, I thought you wouldn't..." he starts, before seemingly his self control snaps and he pulls you into a kiss. It's deep and passionate and oh so perfect, everything you wanted from him as his hands practically dwarf your waist. Yours go up to his shoulders, grasping on for dear life as he lifts you and places you on his lap. Feeling the slight scratch of his beard against your face as his tongue gently traces your lip has your mind reeling, and your hips buck on instinct. This is met by a slight groan from the older man as he grips your waist tighter to keep you still.

"Not so fast, let me enjoy you." he mutters as he gently starts to kiss down your jaw to your neck. He worships your skin with kisses like you're holy, like bathing in your essence would grant him salvation. His teeth gently scrape your pulse point as his hands start to move smoothly up and down your waist and hips, memorising your every curve.

Fingers slip under your shirt, tracing your torso before tugging your shirt up and over your head. He lets out a groan at the sight, his eyes looking over your exposed body as his scarred hands run over everywhere he can. Not putting on a bra or undershirt this morning, your chest was now exposed to his gaze. He gently pinches at your nipples, chuckling at you gasp before fondling as a gentle apology.

"Look at you...don't know why you're interested in an old man like me." he laughs in a self deprecating way as he moves you so you're straddling his thigh. Getting the hint, you begin to grind over the muscle, your thin shorts doing nothing to dampen the delicious friction.

"You're so handsome." you seek to reassure him, causing his cheeks to warm as he chuckles again.

"You flatter me." he mumbles, kissing over your shoulders and collarbones as you grind over him, feeling your pussy dampen your flimsy shorts.

He tenses and relaxes his thigh, making you gasp and your hips stutter in pleasure. Huffing out a laugh at how eager you seem to be, he runs his hands back to your hips and controls your pace. You feel so small in his grip, chest to chest against the older crusader as you use his leg to get off.

"So lovely and pretty," he praises you, before snapping the waistband of your shorts, "Shall we take these off?"

"Only if you take this off too." you say, pulling at his shirt. As he pulls it over his head, you can't suppress the noise that escapes your throat as you greedily run your hands over his chest without any pesky material in the way. His muscles look strong and capable, cutting a stunningly strong shape. His scars, of which there are many, perfectly frame him as a warrior, a protector. It all causes you to grind harder against his thigh, your fingers tracing a particularly bug scar on his stomach.

He lifts you up with ease, gesturing for you to shimmy out of your shorts which you do...which is when he realises you didn't put any underwear on underneath. He groans, deep and guttural as you're now fully exposed to him.

"Oh look at you...how has no man already snapped you up liebchen?" he asks rhetorically, as he gently places you fully on his lap, his fingers dancing on your inner thigh. You whimper and go to take his shorts off too, but he tuts and stops you. "I am...a big man. I don't want to hurt you."

At your pout he chuckles and continues, "Please, let me open you up for me."

His finger brushes, against your core and you forget what you were even pouting about as the pleasure settles deep inside you. He teases your clit with his finger, rubbing firm circles to get you even more drenched than you already are. Your hips move a little before he grips one side with his free hand, keeping you nice and still for him as he touches you.

"So beautiful, I'm going to ease it in now, okay?" he asks, and with your nod he sinks his finger inside you. God, if this is the size of his finger, you don't know how you're going to take the real thing as he fills you up with just one digit. He pumps it slowly, getting you used to the stretch as noises fly out your mouth.

"Gripping my finger so tight, such a small maus i've got." he teases with a smile, rubbing your hip soothingly as he works you open. He gently eases another finger inside, stopping momentarily at your slightly pained noise. He coos at you, telling you how good you're doing for him as he slowly but surely gets two big fingers inside of you. He keeps a slow rhythm, curling them to brush against that spot inside you. It's clear that he's an experienced man, given his age and looks that hardly comes as a surprise to you, as he prioritises your comfort and pleasure as he fingers you gently.

After a while though, you get a little restless, trying to fuck yourself on his digits which causes his eyebrows to raise and a stuttering breath to release from him.

"Oh that's it, ride them. Show me what you want." he encourages, as you keep your hands firmly exploring his chest as your hips rock against his fingers, slightly lifting your hips and lowering them to get the most pressure on your g spot. With your moans, he start to moan too, so hard in his shorts it hurts. He can't remember the last time he's been this turned on, this desperate for someones touch as you writhe and squirm on his lap.

"Please, I'm ready." You tell him, eyes pleading with him before he nods, removing his fingers. He quickly places you at his side as he tugs his shorts and briefs down, and you feel your breath escape in a choked manner. He's huge...biggest you'e ever seen, let alone taken inside you. He smiles reassuringly as he places you back on his lap, his cock pressing against your stomach.

"Don't worry mein herz, we will take it as slow as you need."

You nod at his words, breathing deeply as you lift yourself up and position him underneath you. The head brushes against your aching clit and you whimper, rubbing it around your pussy a few times as Reinhardt gasps quietly. With it wet enough with your juices, you slowly sink down on him, getting about a third of the way down before moaning out. The stretch burned, but in a delicious way that had your head spinning and your hands grabbing his broad shoulders tightly. A deep groan escapes the older man as he keeps a firm hold on your hips, not moving you yet.

"So tight...So feucht." he grunts, it's taking all the willpower in the world not to just thrust up and bury himself deep inside your intoxicating cunt.

At his reactions, you sink down slowly, nearly taking all of him before moving up and slowly moving back down again. This slow rhythm has you both moaning, broken and desperate as the months of unspoken sexual tension comes to fruition. He guides your movements slowly, being able to support your weight as you move on him.

Nails gripping into the skin of his shoulder, your cunt feels impossibly full as you keep moving on him. You aren't sure how any other man is going to satisfy you now you've had a taste of the crusader, his cock reaching places you didn't even think possible. Your movements get a little faster as you ride him, still fairly slow but the more even pace has him groaning.

"You're doing so well, so good...so jung und süß" he breathes out, his voice deeper as his eyes close for a moment. However he realises he's no longer able to see your gorgeous body taking him so well, so he opens them to the sight of your chest rippling with every bounce. One hand reaches up to massage your nipple, callous fingers creating a beautiful friction as your back subconsciously arches into his touch.

You cry out at the sensations, your thighs shaking as you ride him faster now, addicted to the feeling of his cock filling you up completely and utterly. Nearly reaching the base now, Reinhardt can't resist bucking up, completely filling your pussy and causing another choked cry to escape you as the older man is completely inside you. He takes this as a positive, and holds you in place as he begins to thrust up in a steady pace. Knocking against your g spot with every thrust, it's like your breath is knocked out of you with every movement; all you can hope to do is hold on for dear life as you let him do as he pleases.

But you'd asked for this, you'd asked him to take care of him, your words rattling around in his mind as he grunts and fucks you with a passion he hasn't felt in years. He will, he'll take care of you, he'll give you what you need.

"Oh...oh it's so good." he moans, never one to be quiet in any situation, letting you know how good your pussy feels enveloped around him.

You nod eagerly, crescent marks being left on his shoulder as your nails really dig in. Not being able to move your body on him, you just moan and cry out as he pushes his cock up and up inside you. However he seemingly tires of this position, moving you underneath him gently so you're on your back with your pretty eyes on him. He holds your thighs apart before thrusting once more, moving a pillow beneath your hips to ensure he's hitting your g spot.

"Du bist schön, my pretty thing." he gasps out, his thumb reaching down to rub at your clit. Immediately your walls tighten around him, making him moan and double his efforts.

You're pretty sure you're in heaven, his thrusts deep and powerful but passionate, making you feel all of him. The added pressure on your clit causes the pleasure to build and build rapidly, scrambling to hold his arms.

"Reinhardt i'm close." you warn him, before he grunts.

"Oh please come for me, make a mess of me." he practically begs, his voice strained. "ich brauche dich"

It only takes another few deep thrusts before you're cumming on his cock, your back arched and your moans whiny and breathy. The older man's rhythm falters at your stunning display, cock throbbing as he feels dangerously close to bursting right at that moment. But ever the gentleman, he asks where you want him to finish.

"Inside...I-I take the birth control shot that Doctor Ziegler offers...I want to feel you inside of me please." you beg him hazily, barely conscious as you still feel so full yet so sensitive.

This causes Reinhardt to moan loudly, thrusting a little harder as he reaches his peak, reverting back to his mother tongue as he grunts out. "Ich komme...Ich komme gleich...oh gott..."

With a final push, he buries himself deep inside your cunt and cums, filling you up so completely you feel your eyes roll back. Both of your heavy breaths fill the air, coming down from the intensity of the experience before he pulls out slowly. His release seeps out of you, and he groans at the sight of it, of the idea of you being his in that way. Gently he wipes away some, before he moves off you with a slight grunt, his joints a little sore.

"Stay there, i'll clean you up." he promises, and he keeps it as he grabs his towel and cleans you up, before heaving you into his arms and taking you to his bed. You feel completely enveloped by his strong arms as you cuddle against him, fingers gently tracing warm skin. You know this moment of bliss won't last forever, that you'll have to face the difficult conversations of what this means for you both moving forward, but you try not to think about it too much. Instead you're content with closing your eyes and letting your breathing sync as you relax together.

[bonefall]

I know you don’t rewrite arcs until they’re done, but I love hearing about your early ideas while I brood over how badly this arc has let me down. Do you have any like super vague ideas about Splashtail’s motivations yet? He’s like a way worse Hawkfrost in my mind, because they’re both very young cats who Are Just Evil. But Hawkfrost had a genuinely interesting backstory that the Erin’s simply fumbled, meanwhile Splashtail is a cartoonishly evil atheist. I feel nothing towards him, he’s not intimidating or interesting or even funny. Save me Bonefall save me (if I got something wrong please ignore it, these books are so disappointing my brain is making me forget them to protect itself.)

If it helps at all, I'm staying sane with the observation that Hawkfrost is a high charisma character making critical failure rolls, while Splashtail is a cringefail loser with no stats rolling nat20s. He becomes 50% more sufferable when you imagine a long, pungent pause after anything he says, broken only by the sound of an offscreen player tossing some dice. When the silence is broken, it's whatever NPC has been charmed speaking in the beleaguered voice of the dungeon master.

SO my early thoughts are shaping up to be that I'd like to do a slightly more serious version of that.

BB!Splashtail is the Clan equivalent of a 19-year-old, desperate for more power and respect in his society. In terms of his stats, he's promising but not outstanding. A decent fighter, a competent leader. Even in terms of lineage; his father is Sneezecloud, a respected trader and negotiator, but his mother is Havenpelt. An ex-rogue who has sworn to live by the ways of RiverClan.

Curlfeather is the one with the plans. She's the one with vision. Daughter of Reedwhisker, grandchild of Mistystar, with grand leaders like Bluestar, Oakheart, and Crookedstar in her past, greatness runs in her blood. Scandal, too-- but for some reason it's acceptable that her great-grandparents were codebreaking traitors.

Splashtail hates Curlfeather, but he can't get anywhere unless he tries to be her. He steals HER plans. He acts like SHE does. Manages to snatch power from her paws, and then has no idea what to do with it.

I'm thinking that I want his reign to be going smoothly at first, actually, going from a bit of a bossy jerk, to trying to enact Curlfeather's ambitions by launching fights and doing it badly, to active tyranny as he tries to keep control over RiverClan. Depending on how Star goes, I might have Berryheart make some kind of move to seize power over him.

At the core of how I see him though, is that Splashtail has no plan. His ideology leans Thistle Law... in a sort of dumbass 4Channer kind of way. He talks a big game about the glory of battle, but folds fast when his enemy can punch back. The only person he could successfully manipulate was a traumatized child. He will bring back pureblooded glory to the Clan, except his personal family of course

As for the Evil Atheism stuff... lol. Lmao, even. Not needed. If I need to make him a more powerful and serious danger, it's not going to come from the fact he's godless. If being an atheist gave you super murder powers, Bill Nye would have used them to obliterate half of the US government by now.

Depending on how the last book of ASC goes,

The Harelight kill is probably going to get changed to Hallowflight. Harelight watches his dad die, and Splashstar is drenched in the blood of one of RiverClan's most famous heroes. No turning back after that.

On that note I'd also make the fight longer and bloodier. A butchery of an execution showcasing Splashtail fighting like a beast and Hallowflight like a trained warrior.

I REAALLY want to make Splashtail's death a drowning. Curlfeather, demon she is now, finishes him off by dragging him under. To protect her daughter. They will have to do something VERY satisfying for me to not do this.

[cyxnidx]

Hello! How are you doing? :-) I saw your recent post and it was really good! good job btw I really liked it a lot ^_^ anyways, I wanted to request something since I saw that their open, so これを始めましょう！

Can I request Stolas, Angel Dust and Alastor with a Male! Human! S/O that looks very feminine (facial wise) and gets mistaken for a girl :,) (that’s the pain I go through 😔) and they always have to correct people and eventually get sick of it? How would they react?

Thank you! Have a good day :)

heyy! im pretty good for the moment, thanks for asking :) 始めよう！sorry if its short :,)

warnings: ftm!reader, them being dramatic

Stolas

the first time the instance occurred out in public, it definitely sent him off balance a bit.

it would go something like this:

"nice girl, stolas!" a stranger called off, their friends whistling while they walk away. you watch stolas look around, confused. "girl..?" his eyes reach yours, who seems to be embarrassed and a bit ticked off. "did they just call you a girl?" he asks, almost secretively. you nod reluctantly.

it takes him a while to understand why they were talking to you - he felt it was obvious you were a boy.

you'd have to explain to him your feminine features and how they're commonly found in women.

after that though, he'd understand.

make an effort to inform everyone, whether or not they knew, that you're a boy and going by whatever your pronouns are.

definitely gets a bit irritated when somebody he made sure to inform still doesn't get it right.

will literally burn down a house because of it. (and has.)

Angel Dust

the day somebody called you a girl was the same day that person coincidentally went missing.

has brought up possibly getting you a shirt that says "i'm a guy" on it.

is literally the biggest ally. supports you in everything (from ur transition, to your presentation.)

anybody who complained could go and die on a field of landmines for all he cared

i feel typically angel isnt very emotional, but about this?? he'll take everything personal

literally almost started a war over somebody mistaking you for a girl???

he's stabbed random ass people because after you corrected them, they didn't listen.

"i'm actually a guy," you'd say softly after your at-work friend called you 'pretty'. it was still a compliment, but you were hoping for a more masculine compliment. seeing angel in your peripheral vision watching carefully, you watch the person shrug. "i just called you pretty?" "yes but i'd prefer more masculine compliments.." "just accept it."

yeahh ur work friend will no longer be attending their job.

Alastor

at first, i feel that he humored it for a bit.

however, the more it happened? it somewhat irked him.

it probably irked him more than you?? somehow.

you might not notice it but he makes him so mad lmao

"is something the matter?" you'd ask, almost disregarding how someone just mis gendered you. "peachy." he'd respond, though, his eyes low and intimidating for anyone who'd look at him.

definitely rants - to anybody that'll listen.

constantly feels the need to apologize on society's behalf whenever someone decides to be outwardly dumb in his opinion

"i'm sorry." he'd tell you, eyes filled with fire and war - almost murderous. "these imbeciles can't help but make it obvious they're operating on half a brain cell."

alastor is mostly passive-aggressive with others and your gender

he almost feels guilty for teasing you about your features before when he sees you getting a bit timid or defensive about the whole thing.

[justallihere]

Hi bestie,

the school librarian x kindergarten teacher has now become my brain rot and I'm thinking of so many potential scenarios/conversations

Idk if you've seen those tik toks where kids ask their teacher the most out-of-pocket questions like Are you married? Are you going to marry Miss Violet, why are you so old, etc

or if its Christmas time X: What presents would you get for someone you care about? and the kids are like "Better style bc all you wear is black and hearing aids bc you're old Mr Xaden" LMAO

Imagine a kid who gets easily overstimulated and likes to hide away in the library since its quiet and Xaden is frantically looking for this missing child and is ready to go mama bear to find this kid

imagine a career day and Violet asks her siblings to come help, Brennan is a surgeon, Mira is in the AirForce and they try to intimidate Xaden bc he's dating their baby sister 😭

No like it’s taken over my life 😭 I’ve got it and SITQ both open and I’ve just been flipping back and forth all day

Xaden would be so good with kids, he’s for sure the type of person to talk to five year olds like they’re grown adults and they LOVE it. They love him. They call him Mr. X and he constantly has at least one child holding his hand. One look and they stop doing whatever bad thing they’re not supposed to be doing. When they do crafts and the kids don’t want to take them home they all march down to the library and give them to Miss Vi and of course she loves the art and has a whole wall dedicated to it but she’s also glaring over their heads at him for bringing all this GLITTER around her BOOKS. He bugs her during lunch or his free period and puts away the books on the shelves she’s too short to reach and walks her to her car at the end of the day. Also he sneaks his dog in sometimes, and Sgaeyl is a perfectly behaved angel who always seems to know exactly which kid is having a bad day and she sits next to them. Xaden tries to set up doggy play dates between her and Tairn and Andarna and Violet won’t agree because she thinks he’s just teasing her

And yes, the kids know he has the world’s biggest, most pathetic crush on Violet

Some nosy-ass kid: “Are you married to Miss Violet?”

Xaden: “buddy if I was married to Miss Violet you’d know”

[lily-alphonse]

Sam/Haley?

(Saley? 🤭)

Saley? Or Ham. LMAO

Hmmmmmmm this one. This one irks me. They sure would be pretty though.

I'm itching to put them in some kind of AU because my mind screams that they don’t make sense in their current context. There has to be an inciting factor like both working as camp counselors in a nearby town or going to college together or something. (Or… Scooby Doo AU? A little Fred/Daphne dynamic perhaps?)

Like maybe Haley has considered it, kinda liked the rogue skater, class clown thing Sam had going on. But she was always expected to be with the star athlete.

Ok wait maybe the inciting incident is Alex coming out as gay. That could work. Farmer shows up, we have an “oh no he’s HOT 😩” moment and Haley is left in the dust.

She’s pissed at first but then realizes she’s free. She can truly do whatever she wants. Who is going to care, now that the rumor mill is abuzz with Alex’s scandal?

She experiments with her fashion. Tries new hobbies. She goes to visit Emily at work and even gets a little tipsy and dances. And one Friday night she sees Sam there playing pool with Sebastian and she can’t help herself. He’s so fucking tall and edgy, it’s an exciting kind of intimidating. But Haley can be intimidating too, despite her size.

“Sebastian. Sam.” She greets them both with her arms crossed and an easy smile.

“Uh. Hi.” Sebastian is the first to respond, straightening up from where he was lining up a shot.

“In light of recent events I feel the need to ask if either of you are gay,” Haley starts.

“What?” Sebastian asks in disbelief.

“No,” Sam says immediately.

Haley meets his eyes with a predatory sort of smile. “Alright, prove it. Dance with me.”

Sam kind of chuckles and bites his lip, looking over at Sebastian. “Man I know we’re in the middle of something but…”

Sebastian rolls his eyes and points to Haley. “You, wait there two turns. If you still want him after I kick his ass you can have him for tonight.”

Haley chuckles. “Deal.”

It’s actually kind of torture, in a good way. She has a front row seat to watch his body move, his eyebrows furrow and tongue sticking out when he’s concentrating.

She doesn’t know much about pool, so she doesn’t care that Sebastian is right about kicking his ass. All she cares about is the man rounding the table to meet her, as Sebastian goes off to find Abby.

“Hi,” Sam says with a cheeky smile down at her. He isn’t shy, getting close and personal already.

“Hi,” she gives him her best flirty smile.

“Still up to dance with a loser?”

“Can’t really be considered a loser with the hottest girl in here on your arm.”

He chuckles at that, taking her hand to guide them to the dancefloor. She’s caught a bit off-guard by his forwardness but damn if it isn’t sexy as hell. And his hand is big 🫠

His hands move to her waist on the dancefloor and they sway with some distance between them to continue speaking.

“I don’t know how you can be so confident about that by the way," He says once their settled into a rhythm.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I mean, just look at Pam. You’ve got some stiff competition.”

“Oh har-har very funny,” she rolls her eyes but fights a smile.

“Ooo tough crowd.”

“I’m tough to please.”

“I can imagine. But correct me if I’m wrong Princess, seems like you’re already sold on me.”

The sudden nickname almost gets her flustered. She decides to ignore it. Ignore it and definitely not file it away in her brain to obsess over later. “Not sold at all, that’s why I asked for a dance and not your hand in marriage.”

“I see. This is my test drive then?”

“You could call it that.”

“You look beautiful.”

It’s obviously a line. But it comes so suddenly that Haley does get flustered this time. “I know,” she blurts, and then, “thank you.”

His smile widens at her blush. “I’m serious, I like the new look. You seem more like yourself.”

“Myself? And how would you know?” she raises a perfect eyebrow at him as its his turn to get sheepish.

“Oh, well I just mean like, I don’t know. It suits you. You seem happier.”

She thinks about that, looking at his shirt instead of his eyes. She has been feeling happier. She sighs and leans into Sam, closing the distance between them to lay her head against his pounding chest. He stops swaying, surprised. She smiles at how fast his heart is going under his facade.

“I am happier, I think.”

DAMN OK I DONE GONE AN CONVINCED MYSELF LMAO these two are kinda fire ngl I think theyd both be sassy and flirty the banter is top tier

Send me any Stardew Valley rarepair and I will tell you how I would make them work! (Even non-marriage npcs) If youre lucky you may get a mini fic out of it. Check the list below to see if Ive already answered yours

Rarepair Masterlist

[samooooo1]

@samooooo1 Hello! When I saw your request box open I was so excited!! Especially for Elden Ring since I playing the DLC right now 🤭🤭. Are you down to make story of a one-shot of a Obsessive/Overprotective Male Crucible Knight (any of your choice) finding a lost girl (female Reader) who has amnesia and being curious of her, then wanting to protect her and serve her. The girl could be just an ordinary girl or ancient being that has lost all memory of who she was. She would be very timid and small thing, and Crucible Knight vows to protect her since he has no one to serve. But she is a bit anxious since he is intimidating, silent, and gigantic of course lmao.

(Images aren't mine)

I don't know, but I've always loved the trope with a big protective Knight and small damsel in distress being together ❤️  🥰. That's always held a soft spit in my heart fr ❤️

Thank you so much if you do take this request! If not, you have a wonderful day !! ❤️

Oh fair Lady...........

(OC Cruicible Knight x female reader)

(Its small, like very small)

"Oh fairest lady.. what has a lady of thy beauty lost in these wretched Lands?".. asked the knight to the hair coloured lady.. who was sitting on a tree with a small book of hers.. She couldnt remember what or who she was.. but she was sitting on the tree since the day she woke up.. she didnt know who she was... but she had only her book with her.

She was a beauty unlike any others in the eyes of the knight, so small.. fragile.. yet a beauty he couldnt help but fall inlove with.

"Would thou accept thee as thy knight?" He asked, it was weird for someone to ask that but you couldnt help but be smitten by the Crucible knight.. you placed your hand onto his reaching one... and said the words he wanted to hear. "Sure, why not?" .. you looked onto him as he took his helmet off.. as he kissed her hand.. "I hereby vow to protect my lady, til the day death parts me from her."... and with that.. you gained yourself a Knight.

Even tho you have no recollection of who you are, besides knowing you name. You took the knight with you.. you wanted to seek yourself.. find more about yourself and travel across these so called Lands.. with your new friend...

.....

Those were the once young thoughts of yours when you met him.... your silent but protective knight. You both been through much by now... you both went to many places together all the way from Limgrave up to Stormvail castel then to Leyndell.. the beautiful city and the massive Erdtree even.. always close by ones side.. sometimes when ya walk to a certain destination, he always has you by his right side where he carries his sword, so that when someone dares to attack you, he always has his shield to Cover you with or to make sure they regret ever even to look at you with bad intent. Spending time with him , thou you dont know who you once were.. you .. spending the days with him on adventure devloped a bond.. maybe love between the two of you as you both decide to still look and travel the Landsbetween.. hand in hand, as his lady and he as your most trusted companion.... your Knight in not Shining armous...

(Sorry that it is short, today is my birthday and honestly my brain is kinda mush thanks to Summerbreak, hope you still enjoyed the very small headcanon and dont be afraid to send me even more!)

(Plus I need to get back on how to write- so please forgive me if it aint that good)

GOD BLESS YA AND JESUS LOVES YAAA BYE BYEEE

[katsune-nya]

Matsuno Chifuyu x Baji!Reader. D-drable?

Ok, listen, I have a WHOLE fic about Baji!Reader x Chifuyu on the WIPs, so, this is just... Um... Me kinda babbling about the lore behind it. (The fic is fem reader tho).

GN!Reader. SFW. Fix It Fic. Idiots In Love. Baji being y'all's number one fan.

• Ryoko used to go to the Sano Dojo, after she had you two she signed you into it as well.

• Kei and you grew up with Mikey, y'all were a pain in the ass for everyone around you, but grandpa Sano tolerated it since y'all were great students.

• Shin got scolded tripple by his grandpa, these three kids showed up every class and were so good at it and... There he was.

• Power Duo, y'all can kick ass tremendously.

• When Kei and Tora plan to steal a bike for Mikey you just... Tell them no. Plus, mfs, did you not know that's SHINICHIRO'S SHOP????

• Nothing happens, Shin's alive and Tora ok.

• You go to the same school, when Fuyu met Kei, helping him write the letter for Tora, you were on recess with your friends.

• Regardless, later on, since they were always together you ended up meeting him

• You couldn't lie... He was really cute.

• Fuyu's first reaction when meeting you was to be slightly intimidated ngl.

• You had grown up with Baji Fucking Keisuke and Baji Fucking Ryoko, you HAD to build a strong presence.

• Kei introduced you two and Fuyu was just "H-Hi, Baji-san... Baji-san 2? W-wait, no! That's not what I meant!"

• Poor boy.

• Friendship quickly blossomed!

• And a mutual crush, definitely.

• Keisuke knew from the beginning, in spite of him being fucking iliterate he's actually incredibly smart and perceptive.

• He tried to get y'all together so many times but all his plans failed.

• He even got the rest of Toman involved.

• Then, the whole Kisaki thing started.

• Kei and you knew the mf was suspicious asf.

• And him instead of working together with you and Fuyu decided to go to Valhalla for info and yeah...

• But! We have a new character! That actually has a relatively functional brain!

• Welcome, Baji Y/N, you are their only hope.

• While evetone was freaking out on different degrees you took it on your hands to encourage them.

Y/N: Everything will be ok. You can not stop it.

Y/N: Everything will be fine. You have no choice.

Chifuyu: What the fuck kind of pep talk is that?

Y/N: Ominous positivity.

• Kazutora aproves.

• Yeah, as I said, relatively functional brain.

• You joined the guys on the Valhalla brawl.

• If you're AFAB it was kinda hard to convince them 'cause "But you're a girl 🥺 you could get hurt, uwu." Mikey. (If you're FtM he wouldn't say girl, dw lmao, you're his dude bro but... Sigh...)

• In the end Draken doesn't wanna deal with you up their asses about it so he convinces Mikey, you're just as strong as Keisuke ffs.

• Yall win and Kei comes back.

Kei: A decision had to be made.

Y/N: And you fucked it up!

• He's so dumb for a smart person.

• You and Fuyu hang out more together.

• You two help Takemichi with his plans and you have better ideas than them so things go much better.

• Tora and Kei join you too.

• Blah Blah Blah, lore lore lore, y'all fix things, no one dies, ok? I won't go into detail for every issue, this is about my babyboy.

• All throughout this Fuyu and you keep getting closer and closer.

• Y'all hang out even when not necessary to save everyone.

• He doesn't even hang out with Kei on his own as much. You normally are there too.

Kei: *sneaking in through their window*

Y/N: *Turning in their chair and flicking the light on* You want to tell me where you've been all night?

Kei: I was with Chifuyu?

Chifuyu: *Turning in his chair* Wanna try again?

• You spend so much time together Toman thinks you're an item already.

• When Kei says you're not they are so... Ugh. Still?

Kei: *Sees Y/N and Chifuyu together*

Kei: They're cute. I would put them on a boat.

Kazutora: You mean... you ship them?

• Kei and Tora make all of Toman design an unnecessarily complex plan to get y'all to confess.

• Just for you two to show up holding hands????

• Turns out you got tired of it and just confessed to Fuyu in the park you normally go to.

• You planned a picnic together and gave him a home baked treat with a little note on it.

• He blushed so hard and between stutters and a bright smile accepted.

• Congratulations!

• They are so frustrated that they put so much work into things but honestly more relieved than anything.

• Your relationship is so cute.

• You're always together, go on arcade dates, cat cafés, park dates, saving everyone plans, home dates in which each one does their own thing.

• It takes five months for y'all to kiss.

• Was really sweet, really gay.

• Time Skip to highschool graduation.

• You two go together and at the end of the day Fuyu takes you on a ride around the city.

• Y'all might be young, but have been dating for around 5 years so Fuyu stops at the beach and stares at you.

• You tease him for it and he chuckles shyly.

• Then he asks if you would like to move out with him to the apartment he got with his job in a pet store.

• So now you live together!

• After some time, Chifuyu has his own store in which Tora and Kei work, with you going to visit him for lunch.

• You're 25 now, living together, 10 years dating...

• On your 10 year anniversary he finally pops the question.

• He took you to the park where you confessed, the both of you sitting on the swings.

• When you stayed quiet for a bit he suddently got on his knees.

• He had a whole speech but he just... Said what came out on the moment.

"Ever since we started dating I've known you were the one. I want to be with no one else but you. You make me the happiest I've ever been. Would you give me the honour of doing it for the rest of our lives?"

• When you get married, Keisuke walks you to the altar.

• When Fuyu sees you he instantly starts tearing up.

• Kei laughs and slaps him on the back.

• The wedding is short and romantic, Takemichi sobbing his eyes out.

• When you throw the bouquet Hina catches it!

• Everyone celebrates that so much.

• In the end, you have a beautiful marriage and a few cats.

Some incorrect quotes that encapsulate y'all's relationships.

Kei: Hey, wanna help me commit arson?

Y/N: What the hell!?

Kei: Oh, sorry, my bad.

Kei: *Whispering* Wanna help me commit arson?

Y/N: *Whispering* Of course. What do you need?

Y/N: This is a bad idea.

Kei: Then why are you coming along?

Y/N: Someone has to get your injured ass home.

Kei: I love you.

Y/N: *Zoning out* What?

Kei: I said I’m selling you to the zOo-

*To Chifuyu*

Kei: Thought I was meowing back at Peke J for the past hour, but it was just me and Y/N meowing at each other from different rooms in the house.

Kei: Are you busy?

Y/N: Yes.

Kei: Cool, listen to this...

Kei: I got an idea!

Y/N: Does it involve breaking the law?

Kei: By now don’t you think that’s a given?

Y/N: I was just trying to be optimistic.

Kei: Don’t bother.

*About the Baji siblings*

Mitsuya: Who's in charge there?

Chifuyu: Usually whoever yells the loudest.

Y/N: I told Kei that his ears turn red when he lies.

Chifuyu: Oh, they do?

Y/N: No.

Chifuyu: Then why did you tell him that?

Y/N: Because I can do this.

Y/N: Hey Kei! Do you love us?

Kei: *With his hands over his ears* No.

Chifuyu: What would Y/N think?

Kei: Ok, that’s an interesting thought, but hear me out: what if… we ran an experiment where we spent the rest of our lives finding out what happened if we never told them?

Chifuyu: Do you guys ever have a civilized conversation that doesn't require insulting each other every time you get a chance?

Kei: No.

Y/N: No.

Chifuyu: Didn't think so.

Kei: Why don’t you go talk to them?

Chifuyu: *Sarcastically* Oh. Yeah, sure.

Baji: What? Just go tell Y/N they're cute, what’s the worst that could happen?

Chifuyu: They could hear me.

Y/N: Kill me nowwwww.

Kei: Sorry, no can do. I need your help with my homework.

Y/N: *Watching Chifuyu do something stupid* Keisuke, you're officially only the second highest risk here.

Kei: Hell yeah! I'm gonna-.

Y/N: Don't finish that sentence, you'll move back up.

[muse-oleum]

Always & Forever

okay, hi, welcome, i'm really unsure about this because i've never written something quite so heavy or, in fact, anything Elejah at all so, um, be nice? pwease? and if you see typos, as always, no you didn't. this came about because i recently re-read two masterpieces of the Elejah variety: We Remain, by Anonymous Obssesser (@deathloveshischicagopizza on this platform, sure hope i got that right lmao) and She's Come Undone and Set Free, by @terapsina. and it got the brain juices flowing and the creative bugs going.

you can find me here on ao3. this has also been cross-posted over there.

WARNING: very brief discussion of non-con/rape (because Damon is a dick) but it's more implied than anything else.

as for my ElijahxOC fic readers (if there are any here) i swear to god i'm in the process of writing a new chapter, i promise.

Always and forever. 

Looking up at the intimidating walls of the infamous Abattoir, Elena kept those words close to her heart, like a talisman against the dangers she knew lurked inside. 

She wasn’t afraid of him. She never truly had been, aside from their first meeting, forever ago in that decrepit mansion in the middle of nowhere. But she was unsure about his brother, and the kingdom he ruled over. Even now, a mere hour after the sun had set, she could see vampires flitting in and out through the doorway, obviously on a mission for their evil hybrid overlord. 

Elena took a deep breath, calming her heart. She’d sworn to herself that she wouldn’t think of him in those terms anymore. They were long past that, they had to be, for her own sanity. Besides, the moral high ground was no longer hers to stand on. 

She took one step, then another, forcing her legs to move despite the fear. She knew she couldn’t stay the way she was, alone and scared. She knew who she could trust. 

She always had. 

Hyperaware as she was, she could feel everything. The stares on her as she made her way through a square courtyard, the back and forth glide of her purse against her hip, the smell of blood and bourbon—a scent she had come to associate with New Orleans—but most of all she felt the moment he saw her, as if ripples crashed against her chest in tiny little shockwaves. 

A vampire zoomed in front of her, fangs out, eyes flashing red, no doubt trying to intimidate her; that’s how vampiric hierarchy worked (another thing they had neglected to teach her). He didn’t know she had known far, far worse. 

She often wondered if the Salvatores knew the first thing about being vampires. She supposed she was lucky Rose had told her some things, the last time she was in town, such as how to act around older, stronger vampires before you inadvertently got your head swiped clean off your shoulders. Or else, she probably would have been long dead, again. 

Still, she submitted, as she had always done. She cast her eyes down, her jugular on clear display, and waited. The vampire, a dark-skinned man with wide eyes, immediately stood back, cocking his head slightly. Then he straightened, a telltale look of fear in his eyes. 

“I’d recommend not doing that again, Diego.”

His voice, soft and dangerous, just the way she remembered it. But the danger was never for her, not even when he’d cracked the earth open and abandoned her to his sister’s less than tender mercy in that underground cave he knew so well. 

Elijah Mikaelson was dangerous. 

To everyone else. 

“Elena.”

She fought to keep her eyes open. She couldn’t help it, she’d missed the sound of her name on his lips. The way he accented the word a little differently than everyone else, how even when he was stressed or angry, he’d always said her name with a little bit of wonder, an awestruck tone she couldn’t quite understand. She had always been special, she knew—to her parents, their little girl; to her brother, his only sibling; to her friends, the listening ear; to the brothers, for her face; and then, to him. She didn’t understand how she was special to him, but she was, she knew it. His tone of voice gave him away, every time, the soft lilting of the syllables, pronounced with care, each of them a caress that soothed some strange part of her brain.

“Elijah.”

She met his eyes, wider and darker than she remembered them. Actually, no, that wasn’t right, they had been even darker in Willoughby, when he’d kissed her. 

Not her. Katherine. 

She forced the thought away, she couldn’t afford to dwell on that now. She had other, bigger, problems only an Original brother could help her with. She almost thanked Klaus and his godforsaken curse for bringing him into her life, however inadvertently, because she wasn’t sure what she would have done without him now. 

Probably staked herself. 

“Can we—” she faltered a bit, eyeing the vampires listening in, trying to pretend they weren’t interested in what a baby vampire could have to say to the king of the city that would warrant even a moment of his time. Because he was the king, she had no doubt about that. Klaus may be the face, but Elijah was the hand behind it all. 

She swallowed, putting her blinders on, taking a deep breath. “Can we talk?”

He observed her, his head tilted to the side, a small frown on his brow. She could tell her demeanor alone puzzled him, but she wasn’t surprised. After all, the last time he’d seen her, she’d been on a rampage across the country, his little sister in tow, searching for a cure she obviously had not taken. He rallied quickly, turning halfway, gesturing to door behind him. It led to an indoor dining room area and she briefly panicked; It was too reminiscent of the boarding house. 

“Not—not here, hum… Would you mind…?” She turned back towards the lobby, the doors still wide open. 

He softened, his hands going back into his pockets. A clear message to her—an everyone else—that he meant no harm. She’d learned that particular tell of his long ago. 

“Of course.” 

She felt his hand at the small of her back as they walked outside into the evening air. She still felt slightly claustrophobic indoors, even in an open courtyard, the presence of a dozen vampiric eyes on her certainly not helping. It reminded her too much of the almost scientific fascination the brothers had when they were trying to force her back into a humanity she wasn’t certain she wanted anymore. 

And therein laid her problem. 

The switch was back on, she knew that; she could feel it, just as she herself simply… felt. But it wasn’t pushed back completely, there was a jam, a missing piece, a core memory she still couldn’t access. Part of her wondered if it was for her own good, the other part wanted to let everything back in and be done with it. As things stood now, she had only half the story behind her sudden emotion-free spree, and she knew there was more lurking behind that door. 

But she wasn’t sure how to access it on her own, and she needed the help on the only other vampire she could trust to do it right. 

This limbo state—on but not on; back to herself but not completely—made her incredibly vulnerable. She could feel the imbalance in her soul, as corny as that sounded, because she was missing something—something she needed in order to move on fully, to become herself again, even in this new skin. 

Caroline couldn’t help her, although she understood what the problem was and it was ironically her who had suggested the solution that had been staring her in the face all this time. She needed help from someone who had studied vampirism better than anyone else, and that person walked by her side now, silent as he let her gather her thoughts. She took a breath, let it out, relishing the fresh air. 

Well, as fresh as it could be in the Big Easy. 

“Where are we going?” She asked, her voice still too small for her liking. She wasn’t afraid of him, dammit! She was simply afraid of every other man. But she didn’t know how to let him know that, and she could tell he was worried. 

“What would you prefer?” He asked right back, ever the gentleman. 

She shrugged. “You know the city better than I do.”

He smiled. “There’s a bar not far that my siblings and I like to frequent on occasion. Unless you would prefer dinner?”

She shivered slightly, either to the thought of “dinner” or his voice, she wasn’t sure. 

“The bar will do.”

She wasn’t even surprised when he opened the door to Rousseau’s, she really should have known. He noticed her half-smile when they sat down, cocking an eyebrow in question. She shook her head, amused. 

“That’s the first bar I stopped at when I first arrived in the city.” Figures you’d do the same, but she didn’t say that. 

“Yes, it’s quite… quaint,” he replied, lips quirking up slightly, somehow managing not to make it sound like an insult, “it’s also where I first stopped by when I came back.”

Yeah, figures. 

“Did you know it, back in the day?” 

He shook his head, smiling a little more fully as a blonde bartender approached them. “Not very well, it was ran by a werewolf family my brother and I preferred to avoid dealing with whenever possible.”

“NOLA problems?”

“NOLA problems.”

The bartender, Camille, judging by her name tag, reached their table and Elena was surprised when Elijah engaged her in a short but clearly familiar conversation. Camille seemed equally surprised to find him here at this hour, seated with a woman. Clearly, it wasn’t a habit of his. She chose not to analyze how that made her feel. 

“What can I get you?” She asked with a friendly smile. She really was quite beautiful. 

Unsurprisingly, Elijah asked for bourbon. Elena stifled a laugh, asking her to make her whatever she fancied most. This time, it was Elijah’s turn to chuckle and Camille joined him, shaking her head. 

“Family habit, I see.”

Elena froze, eyes growing wide, but Elijah didn’t contradict her and Camille went on her merry way back to the bar, only throwing one furtive glance back. 

“Family habit?”

Elijah shook his head, rearranging his glass so it sat just so in front of him. She valiantly resisted the urge to push it back just to mess with him. 

“I may or may not have told her the exact same thing when I first met her. She’s become somewhat of a friend of ours since then.”

“She seems nice.”

He nodded, pensive again. She managed to hold eye contact for all of three seconds before looking back down at her hands, fiddling with the string of her purse. 

“Elena.”

She looked back up just as Camille brought them their drinks. Cautiously, she took a sip, surprised at the depth of flavors that exploded on her tongue. Her wonder must have shown  on her face because Camille laughed.

“I’ve learned a thing or two about making vampires drinks. I hope it’s to your taste?”

Elena shot her a look, taken aback, but Elijah simply smiled. 

“You can call me Cami, by the way. I hate my full name but Elijah still hasn’t fully internalized that yet.”

The man in question simply sniffed, the epitome of snobbishness, and Elena laughed. It wasn’t her laugh from before, but she had missed the sensation anyway. 

“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you but I don’t think he ever will.”

Cami sighed dramatically, tucking her tray under her arm. 

“Yeah, I think I got that. Anyway, enjoy!” She gave them another smile and moved on to another table. 

With her gone, Elena was once again confronted by her own feelings, bubbling up to the surface. The drink helped, turning down the faucet of emotions a little, just so she could breathe without it hurting too much. She brought her hands on the table, lowering her drink, her index finger running in circles around the rim. 

“Elena?”

This time her name was a question, one she couldn’t hope to evade. She shouldn’t anyway, that’s why she was here in the first place but damn was it hard to force herself to look back up into his eyes. 

“What happened?”

He asked the question flat out, the frown returning. 

“How do you know anything happened?”

“Because I know that nothing would bring you within a hundred miles of my brother of your own free will.”

“I’m here of my own free will,” she said, too quickly. His frown deepened. 

“Is anyone here with you?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, I came on my own.”

His eyebrows shot up right into his hairline and she supposed she couldn’t blame him. After all, when had the Salvatores ever let her do something on her own, much less when it involved him? 

“They…” she swallowed, “they don’t know I’m here. Nobody does.” She released a quiet laugh, but it sounded hollow. “I expect they’re all up in arms back home, wondering where I’ve gone.”

She looked back down at her drink, taking a sip. Her finger beat a restless rhythm against the glass. Slowly, Elijah reached over, giving her time to evade him if she wanted to, and brought his hand to cover hers. 

“Elena, sweetheart, what happened?”

The endearment flowed from his lips seemingly without his own accord, if the slight widening of his eyes was any indication. His jaw clicked shut, his eyes flickered back down to their hands, but he didn’t take it back.

Elena rather liked the way it sounded. 

She took a breath.

“You know my humanity was off a few weeks back, yes?”

Of course, he knew. She’d practically spat it in his face right before Katherine did a very Katherine thing and snapped her neck like a twig. Idiot. 

He just nodded silently. 

“Well, what I didn’t tell you back then was that I, hum… I—I was sired. To Damon. He—I… There was… a sire bond. Between us.” 

Elijah went deadly still, the motion of his thumb running across the back of her hand stilling. His eyes hardened impossibly, but she knew whatever it was that he was feeling, it wasn’t meant for her. Or rather, it wasn’t aimed at her. 

“You were sired,” he said flatly, tonelessly. 

And here was the Elijah she remembered from that mansion in the fields. 

“It was… a side effect, I just… I—” she faltered, her eyes dropping back to her hands. She tried to escape his grasp but he wouldn’t let her, resuming his caress. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, and the tension bled from his shoulders. 

“Did he know?”

No use disguising it. 

“Yes.”

The air became even more still. 

“He knew you were sired to him while the two of you were together?”

Elijah looked faintly sick, the tick in his jaw growing more intense. 

“Yes.”

Another deep breath, deeper than the last. She felt his hand twitch over hers, but the soothing motion of his thumb never stopped. 

“Did he attempt to free you, at least?” He asked. She shook her head. And then he asked the question she’d been dancing around for the past twenty minutes. “Did he demand you turn it off?”

Elena heard the unspoken question, the one she knew would tip it all over. But she couldn’t lie to him, she’d never been very good at it anyway. 

“Yes.”

Everything went quiet, the air became electric, like the calm before the storm, right before the first rumble of thunder could be heard and the first lightning strike the sky clean in half. Right now, Elijah’s eyes were that sky, dark and stormy, a rage so potent in them she was strangely fascinated by it. The muscle of his jaw tensed impossibly more and she worried he might crack it entirely. 

She had never seen him so angry. 

If not for the soft contact between their hands, she might have been a little scared. Just a little. Because she remembered those words and in that moment, there was perfect clarity. 

Always and forever. 

She was quite certain that, should she ask him to end her sire, to bring her his head, he would. Happily, gleefully and without a hint of regret. She wasn’t sure she herself would feel any, and wasn’t that a nasty little surprise. 

She should feel regret. She knew that even just bringing up the subject with him meant placing Damon (and by extension, Stefan) in the line of fire, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret anything. She’d waited so long to give voice to those feelings—the shame, the disgust, the loathing, the pain. She would not take them back now. 

“Say the word, lovely Elena, and he will suffer.”

It really shouldn’t have been even remotely attractive, the way he said it. But it was, and she let herself feel it. 

“I… I don’t know what I want.”

Elijah nodded, a tiny movement of his head, but full of understanding. She took a breath. One hard part was done, but there was still the larger question, looming in the back of her skull. She was more than a little worried, though. What she wanted to ask him—what she needed him to do… that would violate the terms of their friendship like never before. She didn’t want to ask it of him but she knew she needed to remember something else, and for the life of her she couldn’t remember what. But she knew it was important. Her brain was shielding her for a reason, but she—the Elena who had had her choices taken from her at every turn since her transformation—needed to know. 

Or else how could she hope to feel whole again? 

So, she straightened, automatically readying herself to launch into an x, y, z explanation of why that was the best choice—and why she was making it.

“There’s something else.”

Elijah tensed, she was surprised that she managed to notice it at all. 

“But we can’t do this here…” she chewed on her lip, eyes flickering between him and the other patrons in the bar. “Is there somewhere… somewhere more…” she gestured wordlessly, tired already.

But Elijah had never needed words to understand her, certainly not with the way he was watching her now. It was strangely reminiscent of a hawk, but it wasn’t discomforting. 

Maybe an owl. A wise, old owl trying to figure out the puzzle before him. Funnily, she had never before thought of herself as “puzzling” but judging by his look, she might have to reconsider. She was, in her honest opinion, an incredibly simple person: she loved her family and friends, was far too oblivious of things until it was too late, took her coffee ninety percent black, and never failed to help out when it was needed. 

But looking at herself in Elijah’s dark brown eyes the reflection she saw was not one of simplicity. 

“There is somewhere more discreet. I doubt anyone will be here at this hour.”

“Not even vampires?” She asked as he helped her out of her chair. 

He smirked. Elijah Mikaelson actually honest to god smirked at her.

“They know better.”

She laughed. 

❧

“A church? Seriously?”

Elijah made a show of ushering her in, suited up arm extended in invitation. 

“It’s not even Sunday.”

“Thankfully.”

In the silence of the church, Elena repressed a giggle with great difficulty. It was quieter than a tomb, inside. Although, she really wasn’t sure who had first come up with this particular phrase, but she’d love to hear their explanation because in her informed opinion, tombs were anything but quiet. There was always the whisper of the wind, the pitter-patter of bugs and rodents foraging in the cracked stones paving the way to the afterlife. 

Or maybe that was just her experience since she’d turned.

Huh.

She took in her surroundings. It was obvious that the place had sat deserted for a while but had just been opened up again. There were wood planks lined along the walls and several canvas sheets haphazardly thrown around on the pews. 

“Where are we?” She asked, taking in the smell of dust, wood and stone. 

Elijah’s footsteps echoed behind her. “St Anne’s Church. Our local priest seems to be out tonight.”

“You know the priest?”

He had been pagan, in his youth, right?

Elijah gave her his signature half-smile in response, dragging a finger through the dust that had settled on one the benches. “He’s Camille’s uncle.”

“Small world.”

“Welcome to New Orleans.”

Exhaling on a chuckle, Elena sat down on one of the benches, somewhere between the door and the altar, at the middle point of the nave. She didn’t know why but she didn’t feel good enough to sit at the front. Elijah took a seat next to her, their shoulders brushing together, his presence grounding her. On a whim, before she could think better of it, she grasped his hand, gripping perhaps a little too tightly. He didn’t complain, simply resuming his earlier soothing caresses on the back of hers. 

“I need to ask you something, Elijah.”

“You can ask anything of me, lovely Elena.”

He was sincere. She didn’t have to look at him to know that. 

“You probably won’t like it.” She warned.

He tilted his head in question; she heard the soft sound of his collar brushing against his jaw.

She took the plunge and braced herself for the ice cold rush of the water. 

“I need you to compel me.” 

❧

Whatever it was that Elijah had expected to hear, it certainly wasn’t that. 

His shoulders tensed on instinct, his lips parting on a soft gasp. Elena’s hand gripped his tighter, perhaps afraid he would let go.

He never could have, anyway. 

Her eyes flickered up to meet his, meeting the wide-eyed stare he couldn’t even begin to disguise. There was a pleading at the bottom of hers, pooling in the form of tears that gathered on her lashes before falling softly, tracing her cheeks with wet streaks. He fought against the urge to wipe them away. 

“I need you to help me remember something. There���s… I—” she took in a breath, exhaled, completely oblivious to the feeling that ignited in him when heard the words “need” and “you” in the same sentence, coming from her. She tried again. “There’s something… something I can’t place, a… a darkness that lingers at the edge of my mind when I try to think back on what happened.” 

He brought his hand up then, unable to face her tears and remain still. He caught a strand of her and brought it behind her ear, revealing more of her beautiful face. The wide doe eyes that met his could only belong to her. 

“What happened when?” He prompted, gently running his thumb back and forth along her jaw. 

She sighed, leaning into his touch. He marveled at being able to touch her so freely. 

“When I was still sired to Damon.” 

The way she bit out the words made his heart clench. There was indeed something in her eyes, a strange haunting of sorts. It darkened the edges of her eyes slightly, turning warm brown into dark chocolate. It would have been quite bewitching if not for her tears. 

Centuries of instinct suddenly woke up in his chest, growling as it shook itself awake, unfurling from a long sleep.

“I just… I need to make sure of something.” She rushed on, “I know that my brain is likely trying to protect me but—” she growled softly, tugging her hair back, “but I don’t want to be protected. I want to remember it all.” He brushed his thumb under her eyelid, catching a single tear, making her sigh again. She seemed to shrink, releasing his hand and drawing her arms around herself. He recognized it for the protection mechanism it was. 

The beast in his chest growled louder. 

“I feel like half myself and I don’t even know why. It’s exhausting.”

She looked back up at him, her beautiful eyes full of unshed tears that threatened to fall at any moment. He was powerless to resist. He knew then he would do whatever it was she asked of him if only to never have to see her cry again. 

“Tell me what you need me to do.”

The relief in her eyes was unmistakable. He realized with a start that she had expected him to argue with her. He pursued his lips, caressing her jaw again. These… children truly had worked a number on her. 

“I need you to compel me to remember it all. Tell me to remember everything that happened while I was under the influence of the sire bond.” She said in as determined a tone as he had ever heard from her. 

And so, he complied. 

Gently, he took her face in his hands, holding her tenderly, like she was made of porcelain. He supposed, in his hands, she always would be. And he compelled her, her pupils dilating as she took in his order, body growing first lax and then as taught as a bowstring. Her hand shot out to dig into his thigh and the feeling would have registered as painful if his attention hadn’t been fixed on the utter devastation on her face. 

She took a breath but it came out as a sob, a heart wrenching sound that tore him apart. 

“He… oh my god, he—” she looked up at him, wide-eyed, and he felt the beast in his heart bare its teeth, “he… he didn’t… oh god—oh god, no, I—I didn’t want to! I didn’t! Oh my god—” she whimpered, and he finally couldn’t take it anymore. 

Slowly, gently, he took her in his arms as she sobbed. She molded to him, her small hands gripping his shirt so tightly he was certain she would rip it off. She curled up, half in his lap, and buried her head against his neck, her tears soaking his collar. 

He was certain of only one thing as he gently rocked her against him, wincing as the scream she let out into his shoulder tore though his heart.

Damon Salvatore would die a slow, painful death for what he had done. 

❧

Elena wasn’t sure how long she cried in Elijah’s arms, only that he never once let her go. He was careful not to hold her too tightly, and she knew he had understood the magnitude of what she had just uncovered. 

Damon hadn’t stopped himself from sleeping with her while she was under the influence of the sire bond. He hadn’t tried to free her from it, once he’d known, and he’d carried on as things were and she, helpless to do anything but please him, had done exactly just that. 

But now, with the veil lifted, she knew in her heart that she hadn’t wanted to. It was too soon after Stefan, too early in her transition. The feelings of love had been heightened by her Turning and by the sire bond, turning into a deadly cocktail of dependence. If only she had known. 

She whimpered, a broken sob wrenching its way out of her—how many did she have left? It couldn’t be many, she was so very tired. 

Elijah’s arms tightened around her, his hand stroking her hair gently. She felt the ghost of his lips at the crown of her head, the touch doing more to calm her than anything had so far. 

She hadn’t wanted to sleep with Damon. But she had anyway, forced by the sire bond. 

And it should matter to her that he hadn’t known that. That he hadn’t known that she didn’t want him like that, not yet anyway, but it didn’t. It should matter that, technically, he had also been a victim of the sire bond, unable to stop it, but it didn’t. Because once he had known, he hadn’t taken steps to help her out of it and she wasn’t in a position to help herself. 

He got exactly what he wanted. 

A Katherine do-over. 

Elena barely registered the anger before she was flipping an entire bench over, throwing it against the walls of the church. There was a vicious feeling in her chest, clawing its way out and she lashed out again, ripping the legs off of the bench and breaking them in half, the wood splintering into her hands, drawing blood from cuts that healed almost immediately. 

Fury, that was the feeling. 

It was so unfamiliar that she was momentarily stunned by the sheer force of it. 

Her eyes flashed red, veins rippling on her cheeks and she flipped another bench on its head before collapsing on the floor, crying again. 

She had loved him. Had been on her way to falling in love with him. 

And he had betrayed her. 

She was so very tired. Tired of feeling, tired of remembering, tired of existing. The pain of that betrayal, the shame that came with it, added to the duller, less pronounced pain of his hand in shutting off that part of her that made her her protruded from her heart in sharp edges and she distantly wondered if that’s what being staked felt like. 

Until she felt Elijah’s arms around her once more. Effortlessly, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her like she was something infinitely precious to him. She barely registered the blur of movements and the wind in her hair that indicated he was running. She was so bone tired that the comforting warmth of the blanket he draped over her before running a hand down the side of her face barely registered with her either. 

Through the haze of her tears, she saw his face, eyebrows drawn together in worry. He tucked the blanket a little higher under her chin and she managed to grasp onto the edges, burrowing under it. 

“Is there anything you need?” His voice was pained, a small crack the dead giveaway to the unbelievable fury she could feel rolling off him. 

She shook her head, sniffling. 

“Do you want me to call your friends? Caroline, perhaps?”

All she could do was shrug, entirely unsure about everything. Her world had just toppled over. But Elijah hadn’t. He was here, as stalwart as he had always been and there was at least an inkling of hope that lit up in her at that. 

She had been right. 

She was right to trust him. 

[mars-ipan]

nmarrss.. mar s im so hunrgy can you feed me priest au. im Starvinggg Pleasee ^p^ any table scrap i want to pick ur mind for it. ...

hello you two!!! i’m gonna be real i’ve been a bit all over the place lately (pjsk brain has put dangan brain on hold surprisingly enough, and also i’m prepping to go back to college next semester lmao), so i don’t have. too many priest au thoughts. but i HAVE been thinking abt some of the other characters who live in the town of jabberwock, illinois! :]

ok first off. i can’t put hajime anywhere without allowing him his soul bro. even i am not that cruel. so yes souda exists here! he is a mechanic, as to be expected, working out of the shop his dad runs. he and hajime meet when hajime spots him working on like…. let’s say a tractor or smth and goes over to help bc he recognizes the model. they’re buddies, they’re tight! souda is chill, but he’s also like. the epitome of 2000s casual homophobia. most of it comes from his dad, and tbh it wouldn’t be unlikely for souda to be bisexual and not know it (just like canon <3), BUT this au doesn’t focus on him so that’s just a little bonus nuance. For Funsies. as previously mentioned, souda and hajime get along well (souda’s is hajime’s closest male friend, aside from the Father), and they often hang out together. at first souda kind of calls into question some of hajime’s gentler/girlier habits, but overall he does see hajime as Very Masculine so he tries not to give him too much shit, especially since it really seems to bother him. he HAS absolutely called hajime a metrosexual for like. Conditioning His Hair. that sort of thing. but it’s all lighthearted and he does really care abt hajime. that’s his bestie

funnily enough the only other character whose role i’m 100% sure of is gundham’s. he’s one of hajime’s coworkers at the farm supply store! hajime works in more botany-related departments, whereas gundham focuses more on animal husbandry. hajime is on polite terms with gundham, but they’re not too close. in all honestly, hajime’s kind of intimidated by gundham. this guy dresses super scary and actively associates himself with demons and the occult….. it’s a little offputting for him (hajime has never met an alt person before </3 which is such a shame bc he would make a wonderful emo but i digress). overall though, he can tell that gundham cares a lot about his animals and treats them well, so he has respect for him regardless of his reservations. so long as he’s a good person, right? gundham is also dating sonia who comes to visit him at work sometimes (she and chiaki are friends as well, so hajime’s acquainted with her) but that’s all i really have on her right now.

i’ve been trying to think about who would usually run the sunday school. i think chiaki would help, but she wouldn’t be the type to actually teach it. y’know who i think would be fun for that, though? mahiru! this is very not-fleshed-out, but i think she possesses just the right balance of strict and caring to be a good teacher, and i think she’d be good with the woh. i… don’t actually know that much about church structure so i need to research if she’d get a fancy title for being the sunday school teacher, but overall that’s What She Does. of course she’s still best friends with hiyoko, but idk what hiyoko’s deal will be yet so that’ll take some time.

i think jabberwock absolutely has a hanamura diner, owned by a much less creepy teruteru (my au my rules i can fix him if i want) who’s trying to keep the place running to help his mom cover her medical bills. i think it’d be fun if imposter works there (i . may have to give them a name now that i’m thinking about it) but that’s a very young idea, needs time to germinate

that’s all i got for now! a little bit of worldbuilding, a little bit of making jabberwock feel like a real town. yah 👍 oh idea i just got now. what if chiaki works at a local arcade….. the kind that’s old and kinda musty…. yeaahhhh

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

What Would They Think?: Vergil X G/N Reader

SUMMARY: The both of you are lying together in bed; however, Vergil can't sleep. As he sits there with only his thoughts to keep him company, his mind wanders aimlessly until he finds himself thinking about his parents--or rather, what his Father and Mother would have thought of you.

BEGINNING NOTES: G/N reader. Pre-established relationship 🌻🌻🌻 >I don’t know but I wanted some sappy fluffy(?) Vergil. Also, in this he is wearing the outfit I referenced in his H/Cs (linked here)--so that’s how he has a tie lmao >Since Sparda doesn't exactly have a cannon personality, I tried to figure out how I wanted him to sound--forgive me if it is rough. Just to be clear: Sparda is NOT hitting on the reader--you’ll know what I mean when you see it. It is an old-fashioned way of showing respect and stuff, not romantic. >Also, I come from a family that (used to) hug a lot so there is hugging between family members--I know that some folks don’t hug much so I thought I would add a note about it lol.

==

     Warm. A comforting feeling you had gotten used to when sleeping. The snug feeling of toned arms wrapped around you; the sounds of light purring and breathing, only added to the cozy space. It was strange how someone so stoic and curt could be reposeful with you. He brought you peace and you brought him the same: keeping at bay his insomnia and nightmares. 

     Tonight, however, the man of your affections lay awake staring at your sleeping form. He ran one of his hands gently up your arm then lightly pet your head. Vergil involuntarily shook ever so slightly, fearing that he would wake you or that, perhaps, you would fade from his arms like a dream. 

     Thoughts like that made him feel foolish. Here you were laying happily on his chest and he couldn’t shake the fear of this not being real; that all this is just a desperate daydream from a man trapped in his Hellscape of a mind. A gust of wind would come through and you’d be gone and he’d be back in the Underworld, alone. No one in their right mind would lay with him this way, not after what he’s done; and yet, here you are. Completely unaware of the world around you, enveloped in his arms; trusting him not to harm you as he has to so many others.

      A slow steady breath left Vergil’s body as he pushed those thoughts away: not wanting to dwell on such depressing thoughts. He allowed his eyes to close and relaxed his body the best he could. Mindlessly his brain wandered through many different topics, unable to rest. Eventually, his mind ended up on the topic of his family--or rather, his parents. 

      “I wonder,” Vergil thought, “What would Father and Mother think of you?”

     He scoffed at his thoughts, how stupid a question. They are dead. Gone. Never coming back. So, why would he think about something that can never happen? 

     Despite this, Vergil couldn’t help but entertain the idea,  “Father would be surprised that I did not wed Nero’s mother; not taking her hand despite what happened. However, your excitement to learn about him and the history of Hell would surpass that sore point.”

     The eldest son smiled, “You interacting with Father… that would be a sight to see--you already find Dante and me intimidating. The look you’d give me upon seeing him. You would've hid behind my coattails upon meeting Sparda--would he have found it as amusing as I?”

     He indulged himself further as his smile widened, letting his mind picture things. What life could have been if not for that one day, if not for his arrogance as a young man, if not for his time apart from himself; if life had been normal.

==

     It was mid-December. His parents had invited you both to their home for the holidays. Although you had been dating for quite some time, it would be the first time that Vergil had brought you home with him. 

     Upon arriving, you commented on the size of the home, “I knew that you were well off, but this is much more than I expected…”

     Vergil laughed, “It is even better inside, I assure you.”

     The both of you entered the house. It was cozy; a gentle smell of firewood with undertones of cinnamon adorned the air. There were cute holiday decorations all around: Eva must have decorated with Nero and Dante already. A loud thud of boots drew both of you out of your thoughts; in front of you, stood Dante--who jumped off the stairs and down onto the foyer’s wooden floor. 

     The youngest brother wasted no time in squeezing his twin in a large bear hug; which, Vergil protested quite loudly by shoving Dante off of him. A warm smile found its way to your face as you watched the pair. Even though it had only been a week since Dante had seen Vergil, he always acted as if it has been decades since they had been together. 

     You noticed Nero come out from the doorway on the right--wearing a God-awfulsweater. He had his phone out and took a picture of the unknowing brother’s reunion embrace. 

     Nero pocketed his phone, “Glad you two made it,” he stepped further into the room, “was worried you got lost or something.”

    Vergil, finally free from Dante’s grasp, shook his head and sighed, “Our flight was delayed, forgive us for our untimely arrival.” 

     Nero laughed, “I ain’t the one who needs to hear that--swear Grams was gonna have Gramps start a search party to find you two.”

     Finding that Eva was so worried about Vergil made you bite your lip to stifle a laugh. Dante, however, decided to help you further by turning his attention to you; giving you the same bear hug he gave Vergil. 

     You swear you could hear every joint in your body crack from his grip, “Too-- Tight--”

     Dante loosened his grip slightly; still making sure to constrain you--his signature way of showing platonic affection, “Whoops, sorry; forgot you ain’t like us.”

     Although your grip wasn’t anywhere near as hard as his: you squeezed as hard as you could back, “ It’s alright--nice to see you too, Dante.”

     You could feel Vergil seething upon seeing Dante so close to you; however, before Vergil could bark at Dante, Eva walked out and stood by Nero. 

     She was finely dressed in a dark--almost black--red dress with a snowy white-blue shawl draped around her shoulders. Her golden hair had begun to grey in the middle--a reminder that she was just as human as you. 

     She walked over to Vergil and gave him a warm hug, rubbing small circles on his back, “I was worried you weren’t coming--”

     “I wouldn’t dare break my word,” Vergil leaned into the hug as he felt pangs of a happy sad feeling pull at his heart, “It is good to see you, Mother. Have you been keeping well?”

     “Yes, even better now that you are here,” Eva leaned back, her eyes creased at the edges as she smiled.

     Vergil widely smirked; he turned and stuck out his hand, asking for you to come over to him. You left Dante’s hug and grabbed the eldest twin’s hand, sheepishly coming to stand next to him.

     “Mother, this is my partner,” Vergil took on a strangely shy tone, “The one I have been telling you and Father about.”

     Eva smiled opening her arms for a hug, which you did not object to, “It is good to meet you, Vergil has told us much about you,” although you knew she was being nice--you couldn’t help but freeze a bit at what she said, “You make him quite happy, you know?”

     “M-Mother..!” Vergil’s face was bright red with embarrassment as he stiffened his posture.

     Eva let go of the embrace, “It’s true Vergil--you have been much better since they came around.”

     Vergil sputtered, trying to find a response. Nero and Dante were both laughing at him; only adding to his inability to think.

     A loud voice called from the landing on the staircase, gathering everyone’s attention, “Vergil, my boy, I’m glad you made it.”

     The man began to descend the rest of the stairs; it was Vergil’s father, Sparda. You swallowed hard and, unknowingly, began to move back a bit. 

     If you looked up the word “ Intimidating ” in the dictionary, you’d find his picture: he was around 7 feet tall (2.13 m) and wore very fine dark-velvet clothing. Upon his face sat a brass monocle which helped emphasize his piercing blue-eyed stare. Although he was much older than anyone else present; he didn’t look older than his late 30s. His hair was slicked back (just like Vergil keeps his, you noted) and you realized that the twins were spitting images of their father. 

     “Father,” Vergil formally bowed his head.

     Sparda stood in front of his eldest son with a raised brow, “What’s with such formalities? You are here on holiday, are you not?”

     “I am, however, I thought it best to--”

     Without letting Vergil finish, Sparda pulled his son into a large bear hug--just like Dante did earlier. Unlike Dante’s hug, however; Vergil allowed his father to clasp him tightly and even reciprocated by lightly wrapping his arms around the large man. 

     After a few moments, Sparda broke the hug and held Vergil by his shoulders, “You look good; your partner must be treating you well.”

     Dante busted out laughing once more. Nero snorted trying to hold back from laughing at his father’s wide-eyed red-faced expression. You also had gone quite red in the face at the comment.

     Sparda’s gaze found its way to you; who had backed up to stand a few feet behind Vergil. He let go of his son and walked over to you. His stature was beyond impressive; his height alone made you feel minuscule. What happened, however, left you abashed.

     Sparda, Vergil’s father, The Legendary Dark Knight was kneeling in front of you. His hand was outstretched asking for one of your own. Curiously, you obliged putting forth one of your hands. He grabbed it and gently kissed your hand. It was clear by your expression alone you were confused and very embarrassed at such a motion; especially since, in every regard, Sparda is of a much higher “respect” than yourself. 

     “It gives me great pleasure to welcome you into our home,”  he stood back up, “Vergil has told us much about you. You seem to keep my son on his toes, not an easy feat--I assure you.” his voice reminds you of Vergil’s, but less sharp; more smooth like Dante’s (It is truly bizarre how much the boys really are just their father split in twain), “Finally having a face to the name of Vergil’s affections is quite nice.”

     You had no response--what could you say? It blindsided you how overly cordial Sparda was being: Here you thought Vergil was overly formal, especially when you first met, but his father blows that out of the water. 

     “Sparda, dearest,” Eva broke the silence, “Perhaps you are being a bit too formal with Vergil’s lover?”

     The behemoth of a man turned to his petite wife, “Hm? Oh--” he turned back to you smiling, “Forgive me, it has been quite some time since a new person has entered our home; let alone a partner of my son's. I have not upset you, have I?”

     You shook your head and sheepishly mumbled, “No, I don’t mind--just didn’t expect it.”

     A loud bang came from the doorway behind Eva and Nero; Nero pivoted quickly as Eva followed.

     Dante jogged following the pair, “My damned fuckin’ dog--”

     Sparda laughed and shook his head; addressing both Vergil and you, “Your room is ready upstairs--it is your old bedroom. Once settled, please join us downstairs it is nearly supper time,”

     “Of course. Thank you, Father.” Vergil nodded and with that Sparda headed through the door that everyone else had gone. 

     You followed Vergil upstairs, your bags in hand. The house was huge inside and was easy to get lost in so you made sure to stick close to your lover. Once in the room, Vergil shut the door behind you both; letting out a sigh. 

     “You will have to forgive Father, he is old-fashioned that way,” Vergil turned towards you making his way over.

     Sitting on the edge of the neatly made bed, you looked up at your boyfriend who was now in front of you, “It’s okay--was kinda nice, if I’m honest. Reminds me of how you were when we first met.”

     Vergil laughed and leaned down towards you, hugging you--rather awkwardly due to the position, “They both seem to like you very much. Do you--” he pursed his lips, “What do you think of them--if you do not mind me asking?”

     A loving smile appeared on your face, “They seem very nice; you are a lot like your father. Given’--” you pushed back on him slightly so you could look into his eyes, “I am glad you aren’t so damn tall.”

     Vergil rolled his eyes slightly and leaned in giving you a gentle kiss. He felt your hands wander over his body. A tug on his tie pulled him closer to the kiss; both of you pushed against each other, each kiss filled with a sweet loving feeling.

     If Vergil were to die right here and now, he would die the happiest man on Earth--or in any other place that may exist. You both shared a laugh--life couldn’t get better than this.

==

     “--Vergil?” a voice pulled him from his utopian dream state. 

     Brought back to reality, Vergil looked at you in confusion. You were wide awake, sitting up, grasping Vergil’s shoulder intensely. 

     “What-?” Vergil’s voice cracked, and that’s when he realized what had happened: he had been crying. His face was damp, his skin clammy, and his pulse was racing. 

     You removed your grip on his shoulder and firmly grabbed one of his hands, “You started moving around a lot and I got worried when you wouldn’t wake up…”

     His eyes softly examined your face; you were wide-eyed and had a look of distress. He felt guilty that he woke you and made you worry, “I am alright love. It is nothing to worry about,” Vergil squeezed your hand trying to show his sincerity.

     “You sure?” your thumb mindlessly began to glide over his fingers and knuckles, “I won’t push you to talk but,” the two of you tenderly locked eyes, “if you want, you can tell me Vergil--you know I am always here for you.”

     A pang of sadness twinged at his heart; he knows that you mean it and yet, he was hesitant. It wasn’t the first time that something like this has happened; night terrors are nothing new for the eldest twin, however, this wasn’t a nightmare. Rather, a sad dream of what can never be. 

     Swallowing his fear, Vergil closed his eyes and took a slow shaky breath, “Okay,” he sat up fully and you followed suit, “It was about you-- or us-- or,” he stumbled over his thoughts slightly agitating him, “about my parents…”

     Upon seeing his growing frustration; you sat close to him and intertwined your arm with his, holding his hand again.  

     Your touch grounded Vergil’s mind a bit, allowing him to continue, “It was about my parents… meeting you,” he felt a lump begin to form in his throat, “It is foolish, I know; however, I do wish you had met them,” Vergil forced the sad feeling back down by closing his eyes as hard as he could and letting the crown of his head hit the headboard, “They would have loved you--you would have liked them too, I feel. It-- It is a trivial thing to cry over, I know,” he opened his eyes staring at the foot of the bed his voice not much louder than a whisper, “Sorry, I did not mean to wake you.”

     “Vergil,” you leaned into his shoulder, “don’t apologize--there’s no need to…” you gently placed your other hand on top of his--holding his between both, “What you’ve been through, especially with your family life, is far from normal and,” you could feel him staring down at you; however, you just continued to look at his hands, “it’s okay to cry and be upset--to mourn what you have lost. It’s okay to be sad over things like that, okay?”

     You heard his breathing hitch; you knew he had started to cry again. This was the first time Vergil had ever mentioned his parents in this way--only ever telling the stories of his Father’s glory days and such. If you acknowledged it, Vergil would stop and freeze up again; so, you just gently rubbed his hand and sat with him. 

     A few minutes passed as your lover’s breathing calmed into a normal state. You heard him take a slow shuttering breath as he attempted to re-ground himself. 

     “Vergil,” your voice was meek and you pushed your head slightly harder into his shoulder, “Can- can I ask you something?”

     He moved his head and placed it upon yours, “I don’t see why not.” his voice was a little hoarse but it confirmed to you that he had stopped crying.

     “What were they like?” 

     “Who?”

     “Your parents; Eva and Sparda… If you don’t want to talk about them that’s okay, I just was curious.”

     He exhaled audibly through his nose and smiled, “They were…” he leaned his cheek on the top of your head and looked down at your hands, “They were complete opposites and, yet, they were seemingly made for each other,” his voice trailed off as his hand tightened around yours, “Father and Mother did well raising Dante and me, for the eight or so years…” 

     You felt the sadness in Vergil’s voice; to be so young and to have no one but yourself, you couldn’t imagine the pain that he had endured--not to mention everything else that had happened. 

     Vergil continued, “Father was similar to Dante; however, he was more mature and less brain-dead.”

     You tried to hold back a chortle at the sudden jab at Dante but were unable to.

     “It is semi-ironic,” Vergil stopped leaning on your head as he sat back up straight, “Dante is like our Father: and V was much like my mother.”

     Sensing Vergil’s mood beginning to shift to a lighter one, you raised a brow, “So… Eva was an emo poet?”

     Vergil looked over at you and scrunched his face in thought, “Perhaps, in some regard; she did marry and start a family with a devil. However,” your eyes met his own, “she was very much a gentle soul with a burning fire behind her convictions in life… and she also liked cats.”

     You laughed but stopped upon seeing Vergil’s emotionless expression, “What?”

     “When explaining it like that,” he broke eye contact and looked down as a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips, “I suppose you have met both of them, in some regard.”

     “And I enjoyed interacting with both; although,” you took one hand and set it on his cheek, “if that’s how you’d describe your Mother--I think all of you fit that description just fine. You are a very gentle and kind man; well, at least to me anyway.”

     Vergil let out a breath of amusement and leaned into your hand, looking you in the eyes, “Only for you, my love…” he kissed your palm meekly and whispered into it, “Maybe I am more like my parents than I thought.”

     You giggled in response--and at the feeling of him slightly tickling your palm with his breath. His eyes moved to yours again: they were filled with a coy-loving softness that he only could or would allow you to see. 

     Vergil and you exchanged sweet nothings as you slowly laid back down for the night. Deep down he knew that you were the right choice; he may not believe in fate or soul mates but you make him want to. Vergil held you as tightly and as close as he could as he drifted back to sleep knowing that he will never be alone again.

==

ENDING NOTES: Won't lie--I had a hard time finding how to end this, so sorry if it is kind of abrupt lol 🌻🌻🌻 The next story I have (almost) done is going to be another Vergil sappy story thing… So stay tuned for that! (It's a doozy) 🌻🌻🌻 Figured maybe I should share this here since I haven't posted much. Hope y'all like it! Please let me know if you have any thoughts or comments; I am still relatively new to Tumblr so I am still getting a grasp on things lol

==

If you like this please consider checking this on my AO3. There are extra chapters and my H/Cs over there, so please consider checking them out! Comments, Likes/Kudos, and shares are always appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!! :)))

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[melodyatlas]

for the only one bed prompt from a while back!

3 with dickjay, maybe an injured dick (his knee? :D) waking up to a jason who went out his way to get him to a safehouse and patched up. dicks totally bewildered/fighting back tears because what the fuck? i picture it a little post UTRH (ignoring bftc and bib and even their outsiders interaction) so this is their first 'meeting' since jasons Come Back

feel free to ignore/discard whichever parts of my idea you want btw no pressure LOL

Ask Game/Prompt List

dickjay!!! yessss!! i think i used most of what you said? this was super fun cause as much as i like jaydick i havent actually written for them before, hopefully i did it justice 😂❤️💙

i was smart enough to put this one under a cut after it got away from me in length lmao

Consciousness does not come quickly to Dick.

He's just so comfortable; a firm bed beneath him, a soft, vaguely familiar smell invading his senses, and a heavy warmth wrapped around him.

The only thing making this situation less than ideal is a sharp pain in his side and the twinge of his still-healing knee. It reminds him he needs to do his morning leg stretches, but surely those could wait so he can enjoy the embrace of- wait... He's on an off period in his relationships right now.

So who's arms are wrapped around him right now?

He forces his brain to actually wake up, scouring his memories for details of the night before.

His knee-brace has been slowing him down a little more than he would like to admit. And he /might/ have overestimated his flexibilty the night before because of it. He attempted a move that definitely would have worked before he was shot- but with the brace on, he can't tuck that leg as tightly as he needed to be able to in the space he was in.

It meant he didn't make it to cover as intended, getting grazed by a couple of bullets for his trouble. He would have been in real hot water had the newest Gotham rogue not chosen that moment to stroll into the fray.

And stroll he did- the Red Hood didn't seem to have a care in the world as he waltzed right into that crowded warehouse. The drug cartel that had been closing in on Dick had seemed just as surprised as he was by the addition to the fray- and his casual attitude.

It worked in Hood's favor, probably all according to his plan; the confusion it created made the perfect hole for him to announce that he was there to send a message to their boss about dealing cut drugs under his watch.

Apparently he had the whole warehouse rigged to blow and was magnanimously offering them the option of retreat before he blew the whole thing sky high.

His reputation preceded him, and most of the goons bolted at the news, the few who stayed behind arguing in favor of capturing Nightwing as their get out of jail free card getting shot in the arms or legs for their trouble.

Dick was a little surprised that Hood hadn't just outright killed them all. But the light maiming and the yelling that Nightwing was Hood's prize also worked to get the stragglers to finally run off.

Objectively, Dick /knew/ the Red Hood was Jason Todd. But seeing Hood walk up to where he was still laid up on the cold ground- hearing him tell those goons that Dick was his /prize/- it was slightly intimidating. Not that he'd ever tell Jason that.

Still, Dick knows better than to let anyone see him sweat, so he gave Hood his trademark grin even as he kept his hand on the deepest graze on his side. He's lucky it wasn't any closer to his body, no real bullet wound to worry about, but the longest one was bleeding a little more than he would've liked.

Red Hood just sighed as he looked down at Dick, "Sometimes you're really more trouble than you're worth. C'mon then, I was serious about rigging this place. We need to get clear."

He helped haul Dick up to his feet, where he immediately swayed and had to be caught in Hood's arm. Damn, as if needing to be saved wasn't embarrassing enough. He had to go and nearly faint in his arms too?

He must've lost more blood than he thought, because he did nearly pass out on Jason's shoulder- the bigger man nearly having to carry him to a nearby car. And isn't that just a slap in the face- that Jason was bigger than Dick now.

It's not even like Dick is a small man- he's not- but Jason still has a couple inches and at least 20 pounds (of what looks like pure muscle) on him.

No wonder his memory of the rest of the night is so fuzzy. Dick really had to have lost more blood than he thought. But he got what he needed from the memory- /Jason/ is the one wrapped around him.

/Jason/ is the one who crawled into bed with him after saving him from getting in over his head. After carrying him to a safehouse to patch him up.

And he did patch him up- Dick can feel the gauze wrapped around his stomach, the telltale pull of what has to be fresh stitches in his side. He swallows hard, trying to hold back his emotions at the revelation.

He hasn't actually seen Jason since he came back from the grave. He /knew/. Of course he did- he was around tangentially while Jason was taunting Bruce as the Red Hood. So it wasn't hard to find out who he was after Bruce knew.

Dick can feel out the fuzzy memory of Jason taking off the helmet last night, but suddenly he needs to see his face /now/.

So despite the ache in his knee and the pain in his side, he twists around in Jason's hold to lay face to face with him. His movement jostles Jason enough that he furrows his brow, even in his sleep, but the younger man seems to relax back into his sleep pretty quickly.

It's... overwhelming to see Jason like this. Grown. Grown so much from when he last saw him. Logically, Dick knows Jason is still only nineteeen- but he looks older than that. Years beyond what he should- he looks closer to Dick in age.

Muscle he didn't have before built up all over. Hair grown out just enough to really let his curls show. The white tuft at his forehead and long scar along his cheek stark reminders of what he went through.

Dick is reaching out before he even realizes, two fingers tracing up along the scar and then back down to where it cuts into his lips. Surprisingly, it doesn't detract from Jason's good looks at all, in fact, Dick thinks it makes him look even more handsome.

So he can be forgiven, he thinks, for being so entraced by the sight that he doesn't realize when Jason's eyes open.

"A guy could get the wrong idea, waking up to a half-naked bird touching his lips like that."

It's only his years of training that keep Dick from flinching at the new sound of Jason's voice. It sounds like him- but at the same time, it doesn't. Once again, those years twisting the image of Jason he had in his head, now at odds with the man before him.

Still, he can play this game, "You're the one who stripped me half-naked and called me a prize."

Jason just hums, nips a little at Dick's fingertips where they still rest on his lips, and then shoots him a smug little grin when Dick /does/ startle at that before joining him in smiling.

It's crazy how /easy/ this is. Laying in bed with a man he used to know, but certainly doesn't anymore. Jason's been through so much since the last time they saw each other- so has Dick, even- but he's still so comfortable with him.

It's hard to say whether or not he /should/ be this comfortable. He knows what Jason's been up to since he got back. But he also saved him. And is letting him flirt with him. Hell- he's flirting /back/.

Dick thinks he can relax into this for a little bit- let them both have something nice for once. So he doesn't let himself think too hard before leaning up to replace his fingers at Jason's lips with his own mouth.

Yeah, he can definitely let them both have this.

[silent-moons-camp]

Got some Q's for Stigandr Tavrinth pls and thank you!

Random selected but I like these questions: (if it's too much sorry!!! got excited lol)

-What is your character's favorite physical trait they possess?

-What is something your character would refuse to wear?

-What is something your character is proud to own?

-Who would your character ask first if they needed medical help?

-Who would your character say knows them best?

-Where is your character's safe space?

Aaaa thank you! Love answering questions about Stigandr because he's still not fully developed yet and these questions help me make decisions about him. No need to apologize!!!

-What is your character's favorite physical trait they possess?

Stigandr takes GREAT pride in his beard and hair. This man is hairy as fuck and probably has a whole routine he goes through every morning to ensure it's perfect. Stigandr is not a vain person, but appearances are important when it comes to being a Paladin. He's gotta strike a balance of being intimidating enough to his enemies and approachable enough from those he seeks to protect. (Maybe there's some personal backstory regarding his affinity for braids. My friend has a character whose culture holds great importance on braids and their meanings, and I've been inspired by that since, lol.)

-What is something your character would refuse to wear?

I don't think he's actually too picky on clothing. I would say clothing of the enemy, but I did put him in some Absolute apparel when the gang infiltrated Moonrise. I suppose... maybe he wouldn't want to wear lighter armors? I mean he would if he had to, but he prefers heavier sets of armor that are more likely to protect him.

-What is something your character is proud to own?

He is VERY proud of the Amulet of Greater Health that he snagged from the House of Hope. Not only is it super useful, but he finds great pleasure in stealing from Raphael.

(Considering I play on Explorer difficulty and with a no party limit mod... this amulet feels like cheating, even moreso than usual lmao)

-Who would your character ask first if they needed medical help?

He would probably try to take care of the wounds himself first. He has his own healing spells, of course, but if he's unable or out of magic, he'd go to Shadowheart. Stigandr is a humble man who knows he needs to be in good health in order to help others and find a cure, so he doesn't dawdle when it comes to wounds. If Shads is unavailable, he'll go to Jaheira or Halsin.

(Also, of course he'd go to Shadowheart. The inherent eroticism of being healed by your love interest is too great to pass up.)

-Who would your character say knows them best?

I would say that my yet-to-be-created Dark Urge character knows him best. Stigandr is a werewolf, and so is this Dark Urge character I'm rotating around in my brain. I think the two have been traveling together for some time in search of a cure for their lycanthropy, and as such, the two become good friends (in spite of her murderous thoughts and bloodlust, lol). Obviously him and Shadowheart grow close and I would say she ends up as one of the people who know him best, and in ways that my Durge probably never would.

-Where is your character's safe space?

Stigandr finds himself most safe within nature, or within distance of a religious site. Stigandr is an Oath of Devotion paladin, yes, but he is a paladin of Tyr also. While he spent his early years in Baldur's Gate, he spent most of his young life in Fortress Faithful, the Church of Tyr in Tethyr. Nature also because he just finds it to be beautiful, and of course, because of lycanthropy. (Image nabbed from the Forgotten Realms wiki.)

Thank you for the ask!!! I had fun answering these and providing some images :)

Ask me questions about my OCs from this post!

[amethystfairy1]

Hello hello I gots some questions if you don’t mind

So we know some hybrids from different sub species that are in relationships like Lizzie and Joel and doc and etho but I was wondering if there were any specific sub species that only stay with their own type of sub species? And if there is, do or would they ever give others who are from the same sub species as them a glare if they saw a person from their same sub species in a relationship with a hybrid or mutant of different sub species? Example: Joel and Lizzie, would any of the cat hybrids ever do a double take on her being married to a butterfly hybrid? (I know they probably wouldn’t but this was for the sake of an example)

Is there a number in mind for how many different types of sub species are living in the under city? Or would it be like trying to count each specific m&m in a large bowl? Is there too many sub species to count or would you use a broad number like for example 1000 to get your point across?

Are there other new types of sub species you have in mind but haven’t talked about yet? (Ignore this question if it’s a large spoiler LMAO)

Are there any other sub species that have a bad reputation? I’m aware that creeper hybrids are know to be intimidating and most avoid them (at least I’m pretty sure) but are there any hybrids or mutants that when people learn what sub species they are they immediately hate and or dislike them? If so why or how did they get such a bad reputation?

(I really hope my questions weren’t annoying I just really enjoy your work and I had some questions!))

(I also apologize if any of these questions have been asked before)

Hello, hello! I never ever mind questions, I absolutely love them! Thank you for sending them over! ☺️

Alrighty, let’s see what we’ve got! 🏃‍♀️

1. Not really, no, or at least, I never intend to explore that. I think the closest we might get are perhaps blaze-borns or warden mutants, both of whom are known for being very solitary and keeping to their own areas, not usually living in the main cavern, but I don’t think there would be any sort of dislike/unhappiness from anyone if someone of that subspecies dated/married outside of it. The under-city is big, yeah, but it’s not that big so it’s always been common practice for people to mix and match. It’s just been growing more common than ever thanks to how Doc and Etho’s work has been connecting the various levels of the city like never before!

2. I think the m&ms in a bowl allegory is the best…there’s a LOT of them, I don’t want to put any sort of number on it just for the sake of IRL reasons, which are that I do make up parts of this AU as I go along, and I’d hate to give myself some pre-determined boundary for how creative and crazy we can get with all of these hybrids/mutants…so let’s just say A LOT and leave it at that.

3. YES and that is ALL I WILL SAY 😆

4. I think ‘bad’ reputation is the wrong way of putting it. No one necessarily has an immediate hatred for another based solely on subspecies. I mean, Ren and Lizzie are friends! And they’re literally a dog and a cat! But there are other sorts of reputations that can carry with someone’s subspecies. There’s Doc, of course, who we know is a sweetheart and a gentle giant but people are afraid of him because he’s nearly seven feet tall and terrifying-looking, that’s not his fault, though…and the augmentations aren’t exactly helping. 😭 We will also be learning more about dog hybrid clans with Ren, the deep dark with Cub, and blaze-born pyres with Tango, so through that I hope to show a bit more nuance in the traits and tendencies of all these various subspecies, because it is quite a lot of fun!

They were not annoying! I PROMISE I WILL NEVER FIND QUESTIONS ANNOYING! You’re giving me an excuse to ramble about a thing that lives in my brain and forced itself out in the form of a fanfic series, I am delighted so if you ever have any more questions send another ask! I will be happy to answer! (unless it’s spoilers but then I’ll just say that) so yeah! I’ve been having so much fun with the blog and the asks and the posts and stuff! So thank you for coming by! 💖

[johnslittlespoon]

can’t stop thinking about the leaving bikerider au now,,,,,, I was thinking about it when I went to bed last night and I swear it was the first thing on my mind when I woke up.

like,,,,,,,,,,,, Buck being caught up in something that may or may not be legal and as soon as the other side of the conflict finds out about John? using him against Gale? the absolute feral need to make sure John is safe vs the feral want to make sure no one ever touches what is his again? and, listen, I can’t imagine Gale would get involved with anything illegal if he has kids or w/e, but. his past catching up with him or smth? I just very much need feral Gale 😔🤡

YOU AND ME BOTH. okay yeah, the deeper plot points like that are definitely something i need to sort out because i really haven't decided yet how deep the biker thing is gonna go. obviously it's hard to base it off of the actual bikeriders movie since it's not out yet, and i'm very much not a car/bike guy LOL so that doesn't help me either.

so i'm still deciding whether i want to actually delve into biker gang stuff since it's really not my forte– i've always very much been a modern au/slice of life writer, so even just adjusting to following mota canon with my other fics has been crazy lmao.

half of me wants to just have gale be a part of a notorious biker group, not so much a gang. maybe some turf wars, a reputation around town, that sort of vibe, but not something that the whole plot is centered around, if you feel me.

i lean towards character/relationship centric writing and like to get in their heads wayyy more than i like to write action or intense scenes; much more of an emotional conflict over physical conflict enjoyer. but then at the same time i do love the classic trope of john being threatened/taken by a rival gang to get to gale, and gale losing his mind over it, and when he gets john back, being so scared of putting him in danger again that there's a whole arc where he pushes him out of his life entirely to keep him safe.

because feral gale is definitely something. half the time john wouldn't even be able to believe he's involved in the things that he is, because his gale is gentle and sweet with no temper to speak of. but then he only needs to see the steely cold look gale shoots someone who crosses him and he's reminded of how intimidating gale is to most people; it's just that john gets to see a side of him others don't.

and that reminder really sinks in again when john is taken by some people who want something from gale, and he watches gale absolutely destroy them in his rage over them hurting him, making damn sure they won't be getting up and walking around for a good long time.

it's an interesting concept to explore, but i'm gonna be so real, i just don't think plotting something elaborate like that out for the fic would hold my interest; my brain is so specific about what makes it tick lol. but i do think gale's past catching up to him would be something a lot more up my alley to tackle in fic, although knowing me it would be something less 'dangerous' and more angsty oops.

i like the idea of him kinda being vague about his past, and john being curious but not wanting to push because it seems to be something that still affects gale deeply, and maybe he finds out by accident, and maybe it's not a big deal, or it causes conflict between them, who knows. only future drafting–sam apparently lolll :-)

[chanstopher]

i mean yeah??? you observe it like a holiday by rewatching channie’s room. ofc i’d get you flowers!

oh yk i was thinking… if i were to classify skz as flowers right… it would be

chan: gladiolus

literally means “little sword” which… idk it fits so well! he’s tiny but packs a punch jddjdjsk and also the flowers symbolise strength of character, faithfulness, moral integrity and remembrance. all very… chan-like traits

minho: lavender

i always associate him with lavender for some reason. they represent purity, silence, devotion, grace and calmness. it’s just… a very minho vibe. he’s just so calming and he’s very devoted to the things and causes he cares about. and ofc he moves like a gazelle.

changbin: tiger lillies (specifically lilium lancifolium)

changbin just always gives me tiger vibes. soft and cuddly but very very powerful and can go from cute to intimidating and majestic in seconds jdhsjjdjs i also associate him with the colour orange bc he’s just… so vibrant. and also spits fire on stage hahahahah

hyunjin: daffodils

kind of because of that poem daffodils by william wordsworth. he talks about how daffodils are happy flowers that always bounce around and dance in the wind. and cheer you up. and idk that… that imagery reminds me of hyunjin’s smile haha. he’s got a very bubbly vibe to himself. daffodils are also said to symbolise creativity, resilience and new beginnings, and hyunjin’s all of those things plus he’s always getting new opportunities to shine.

jisung: forget-me-nots

they just feel so very jisung. the story behind why they’re called what they are is so bittersweet and romantic, it just… pulls at your heartstrings. much like han jisung’s songs. his music is the embodiment of the sentiment of love and remembrance and comfort-in-a-bad-situation that makes up the symbolism of forget-me-nots.

felix: gerbera daisy

i’d say sunflower but i think the delicate-ness of daisies really fits him. they’re bright, they’re happy, they’re usually yellow (and technically more sun-like since the sun’s light is actually white, not yellow dhhdkdjd). they symbolise purity and innocence (not in a naive way but in a… pure hearted wants the best for everyone kind of way)

seungmin: iris

they represent faith, hope, courage, wisdom, and admiration. and i feel like that encapsulates the kind of friend seungmin is. he always seems so emotionally intelligent and in-tune with everyone’s needs despite being a jokester.

jeongin: purple clematis

they symbolise royalty, so ofc that’s what maknae on top deserves jdhsjsjsks no but also, they symbolise mental strength. the flower itself has the ability to climb up and around obstacles, twisting and spreading to reach magnificent heights and yk innie is always overcoming little obstacle himself (and with the help of his members) and he’s come so far. reminds me of when chan said he was a “blank canvas” that shaped into a beautiful painting.

dang this got long 😂😂😂😂 anyway, enjoy my 3am musings jdhdjdj i am sick and my brain is just thinking of random shit lmao

ti these are all such beautiful choices!!! i think the only flower i know about this is a sunflower ironically just cause its my favorite but i really love all of these! i appreciate your 3am musings so much, but i also hope u feel better soon my love hehe