#idk how time is supposed to work in this place

[ccazimi]

Poltergeist!

cw: sukuna x ghost!reader, pure CRACK, humorous mentions of a foot fetish, heian era au

wc: 2.5k

a/n: perhaps i will continue this idk yet :P

Sukuna had found the perfect place to settle down after years of simply wandering amidst the forest. The shrine was nestled away amidst a misty crop of trees at the base of a large mountain, overgrown with vines and surrounded by towering cedar and pine trees.

The wood had faded to a grayish-brown, bright vermillion paint flaked off to leave patches of dull red. It was large enough that the grounds included storage rooms, a sprawling overgrown garden, and servants’ quarters - all laid out behind the grand torii gate.

Perfect. After a few servants and workers he kidnapped from nearby villages, the place had come alive in no time.

What Sukuna didn’t expect was the possibility that the shrine was already inhabited.

It started with nothing more than a cold draft here and then, or an oil lamp abruptly extinguishing itself in the middle of the night. Sukuna swears his memory must’ve gotten worse since he got here too because he swore he’d closed the door to the garden last night, that he’d kept the manuscripts he was reading on the low table beside his futon.

Not to mention that slightly unnerving feeling that he’s being watched sometimes, late at night when he’s alone in his room trying to sleep.

Not even a week later everyone runs to a corridor after one of the maids starts shrieking at the top of her lungs.

Sukuna arrives disgruntled amidst the commotion, utterly aggravated that he was interrupted during a meal out of all times.

“What the hell is this all about?!” He growls, staring pointedly at the young woman who’s clearly been spooked by something.

“I- I think this shrine is haunted, Lord Sukuna…” She replies timidly.

Sukuna crosses both sets of his arms, unamused and looking at the servant like she’s stupid or something. “Haunted, huh? And how exactly did you arrive at this genius conclusion?”

“I- I saw a woman…in white, my Lord. With blood all over her clothes,” She points to the end of the hall, “standing there. Then she disappeared, and a second later I felt cold, icy cold, hands on my arms even though I couldn’t see anything, and…”

Sukuna cocks a slitted brow, wholly unimpressed by her account so far. “And?”

The maid hesitates, rubbing her head awkwardly before continuing. “And then I felt someone kiss my cheek, with the same cold lips.”

Sukuna blinks.

“You’re telling me a ghost kissed you?” He repeats flatly, just to show how ridiculous it sounds.

“Well…yes, my Lord…”

Sukuna wonders if he must have accidentally dropped this one in particular on her head when he kidnapped her from the village.

“Waste my time with some stupid shit like this again, and I’ll personally send you to the realm of ghosts myself. Understood?”

The maid has no choice but to nod in acceptance, as Sukuna commands everyone to get back to work. There’s no way his meal was interrupted for this shit.

Unfortunately for him, that’s not the last he has to hear of these kind of incidents- if this supposed ghost isn’t smooching people, it’s busy scaring the shit out of them. Before long, basically everyone agrees that the shrine must be haunted.

Well, everyone except for Sukuna, of course.

He refuses to entertain these ridiculous ideas, at least not until he sees something with his own (four) eyes.

Never mind all the other strange but small occurrences that have been taking place around him.

Sukuna's sleeping one night when he feels distantly like someone else might be in his room. He stirs a bit, an eye opening drowsily when he sees what seems like the figure of a woman standing by his bed.

He figures it’s one of his concubines looking for a late night fuck or something even though he hasn’t invited any tonight. They get real needy sometimes.

“Leave.” He mutters, closing his eyes again. “Not in the mood to fuck right now.”

“Hah. You couldn’t fuck me even if you wanted to, squatter.”

Squatter?

Well that wakes him up, because the King of Curses refuses to take any form of impudence even in his sleep.

He sits up on his futon. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking t-”

And that’s when he catches sight of you for the first time, a new face that he doesn’t recognize but certainly doesn’t mind looking at.

He squints. There’s something off about you.

You look a little pallid, like you might be sick or something with long unkept hair. Not to mention your white gown is splotched with red, and he swears he can kinda see the back of his room through you.

His gaze drifts downwards, where he notices that your feet are hovering an inch or two above the ground, and it clicks together for him.

“Why the hell are you staring at my feet? Out of all people who could’ve come in and taken over my shrine it had to be a four-armed freak with a foot fetish?”

“What?” His red eyes snap back up to you. “Who dares speak to the great Ryomen Sukuna with such bold impertinence—”

“Oh, shut up already, would you?” You huff. “I’m the shrine maiden that lived, died, and was resting in peace here till you arrived with all your little minions and disrupted my sleep.”

Sukuna scowls, eyes following you as you float around his room. “So, you’re the ghost that’s been terrorizing my servants, huh?”

You roll your eyes. “What, a spirit wants to spread a little love and now it’s called terrorizing?”

“Okay, let me specify: why the fuck are you going around and kissing the attendants?”

“Because you know how ridiculous it sounds to tell someone that a ghost kissed you? You would never believe them. Also, it’s kinda funny.” You’re on the other side of his chamber now, bending over to reach for the pot of sake on a table.

Unfortunately for you, your fingers pass right through it when you try to pick it up. “Dammit, this whole materializing thing takes a bit of practice…”

Sukuna watches as you try, and fail, a few more times to pick it up before finally getting fed up. “Will you stop that? Just tell me why the hell you’re here.”

You sigh, shrugging your shoulders. “I got tired of messing around so I decided it’s time to cut to the chase- I’m here to haunt you.”

One of Sukuna’s eyes twitches, while he stares at you like you have four arms yourself. “Haunt me? Are you fucking serious?!”

“Yeah. Until you get out of here.”

He scoffs. “And who said you could haunt me?”

“Well who said you could squat in my resting grounds. I got here first anyway.”

“I’m not squatting, I live here. It’s not like you do- not anymore, at least.”

You look at him once before turning to the sake pot and swinging your palm at it. This time you do manage to hit it, making it fall noisily onto the wooden floor and spill the alcohol everywhere.

Sukuna stands up, gritting his teeth. “What the fuck are you doing, stop that!”

You stare at him blankly, and Sukuna realizes this is the first time anyone’s looked at him like he’s stupid. “I’m haunting you. I literally just said that.”

A strangled growl of anger gets caught in his throat as he reflexively raises his hand and yells “CLEAVE!”

Thanks to the fact that not only do you not exist in this dimension, but also that you’re already dead, Sukuna manages to do absolutely nothing to you.

Instead it’s the wall of his room that receives the consequences of his rage, a large gash opening up in it as his attack goes right through you and into the wood directly behind.

You burst out in laughter, bending over while he glares at you with such venom it might be enough to actually kill a living person.

He’s just discovered the one thing he hates more than humans: undead humans.

To say the least, Sukuna is not having fun trying to live his life while being haunted by a mischievous spirit that’s hellbent on getting on his nerves in ways he didn’t even know was possible.

“Can you stop rearranging my furniture?” Sukuna growls in exasperation, waking up to find that except for his futon the layout of his room has once again been changed. You’ve really been on a roll with the interior redecoration lately, coming up with a new design every morning for the past week. “How are you even doing that?! You were literally struggling to move the sake pot not that long ago.”

He can’t see you but he knows you’re listening, and he’s proven right when you decide to show yourself. “Concentration and practice, I told you. Though it happens automatically if I’m feeling strong emotions. Besides your room looks better like this, don’t you think? Really opens up the place.”

Sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath.

Sure, it did open up the place, but only because you decided to take every single object and piece of furniture in the room and pile it right by the door. “When I find out how to exorcise you, you’re done for. I’m going to banish you to hell. You can do as much furniture rearranging as you want there.”

It must just be his horrible luck, because not only were you an extremely irritating spirit, you were apparently quite a strong one too, which he found out after several different exorcision rituals performed by Uraume had failed. The one time he’d thought it worked and was ready to celebrate, was just you pretending like you’d been banished before showing up again not even two minutes later.

He guesses becoming a spirit must also have given you a certification in theatrics too, because you love to pull them out on his servants whenever you’re bored- including but not limited to: running on all fours, running backwards on all fours, contorting your limbs and body in ways that aren’t anatomically possible, turning your eyes white and zooming after people while you screech that you’re going to catch and eat them…

Sukuna’s told his attendants and concubines numerous times that while there really was a spirit on grounds, it wasn’t malevolent and just really liked to fuck with them.

It didn’t ease their fears, with the kind of stunts you pulled off.

Not that you didn’t find pleasure in the mundane as well. In fact he thinks one of the worst things you do is just floating around his room while he’s trying to fall sleep.

Back and forth, back and forth, he sees the pale and slightly luminescent figure just floating across his chambers.

He tries to ignore it but the repeated action itches his nerves, so he closes his eyes but somehow just the knowledge that you’re probably still going back and forth pokes at him, and finally—

“Can you stop that?!”

“I’m bored.” You reply flatly.

“Go be bored somewhere else.” He grumbles, turning into his futon and cushions.

“Do you have memory issues or something? How many times do I have to remind you that I’m haunting you.”

“You’re annoying me, not haunting me.”

For a second he’s sure you’re going to retort back, but there’s a pause, followed by you saying. “Okay fine. I’ll stop. Goodnight!”

He finds it suspicious, especially the cheeriness in which you bid him goodnight.

He doesn’t question his luck though, as you disappear and he starts to feel his lids grow heavy.

And just about as he’s fall into sleep, he feels it—jarring, icy coldness against the hot skin on his back.

He, the King of Curses, shrieks, sitting upright and fully awake.

Beside him is his dear spirit, under the sheets and cackling.

“What the fuck was that?! Get out of my bed, this instant!” He thunders.

“My feet—they were cold.” You reply innocently, batting your ghostly lashes.

He looks at you like he wants to rip you apart, and then tear his own hair out. “Because you’re FUCKING DEAD.”

“I thought you were into my feet?”

“I do not like your feet, I don’t even like feet in general, can you quit with that already?!” Sukuna massages his temples.

“I could’ve sworn I heard you moan when I put them on you, though…”

He can’t even talk because of how mad he is, just lunging to throttle you by the neck purely on instinct. His hand goes right through your ethereal body, and he must really not like the feeling because he quickly retracts his arm with a disgusted sound.

You do nothing but laugh even more, as he cusses you out while shifting away from you on the futon, and burying his head under a bunch of pillows.

Over time Sukuna still does not like you or appreciate your presence, but his curiosity gets the better of him.

“How did you die?” He asks in his room one evening, seemingly with no one else in it.

Just as expected you appear, hovering in front of him and crossing your arms.

“None of your business.” You reply curtly.

“I think it is my business to find out about the spirit that’s haunting me. Maybe it’ll even give me some idea on how to get rid of you…” He adds almost wistfully, imagining a life in this shrine without you throwing things around every day or freaking out his servants.

But all you do is huff and disappear.

Weird.

Normally you always have something to say. Must be a touchy subject, he concludes.

The next time he asks you again- you do actually give an answer, rambling on dramatically about how you “saved the shrine from a monstrous curse” and “sacrificed yourself for the sake of the world”. He snorts skeptically, nearly impressed at your flair for drama.

He asks you again the next day. This time your story was that “a wandering warrior came to the shrine, and fell in love with you.” But according to you, the gods didn’t “approve” of your passionate relationship and decided to curse you, leaving him to walk away heartbroken while you completed shrine duties till the day you died.

You apparently don’t appreciate his suggestion that maybe he left because of how insufferable you must’ve been, considering how many dishes you decided to toss at him before disappearing while calling him a “brute with a foot fetish”.

Each time he asked, you just spun an even more elaborate and ridiculous story from the last, including everything from goblins to tragic prophecies that would’ve made Victorian romances sound like light work.

You must be getting bored too, because now instead of antagonizing him all the time you actually offer some helpful advice occasionally, regarding his evil plans.

Sukuna notices you getting restless, and decides that a bored spirit is an even more destructive one.

So he gives you the task of managing his servants, and scaring them into submission.

He thinks you’re a pretty good manager, because his servants have been so on top of it after you’ve been appointed that he’s barely even had to fire (kill) any. He hears you working from time to time, showing up behind poor unsuspecting maids and telling them “they must do the dishes faster, lest they feel your wrath.”

He still doesn’t like you but he isn’t quite as determined in his search for a successful banishing ritual anymore.

[angellekookie]

IN THE NAME OF LOVE & OTHER THINGS | MYG - Royalty AU [oneshot]

Summary: In which you really tried not to fall for him, but some things are inevitable, and you're ready to give u everything to be with him.

Genre: Romance (and maybe a little agnst? bro idk this was an accident

WC: 1.6 K

Warnings: None that I can think of, if I'm being honest.

Pairings: Min Yoongi x F! Reader

Note: Yall this drabble was naawt supposed to happen but since it did, let's call it either a prelude or a spoiler for another project I have in the works. It has not been beta read or checked for errors any at all. Anyway, hope you enjoy reading it nontheless, it was a fun distraction ^^

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto & @strangergraphics

You two were never to meet. Afterall, you were both from two different worlds that only ever intertwined in the shadows. You lived in ballgowns and politics, delicate hands never even having to feed yourself if you lack any such desire on a given day. He lived in stone and clay and plaster, calloused hands rumoured to be tinged with gold or magic because of how he could bring any material to life. 

You were the daughter of a Duke, and while he was indeed a prodigy, the most sought after artist in all the four kingdoms, that didn’t mean the public would take too kindly to a relationship or marriage between you. It would never work.

It’s what you’ve been trying to come up with a way to tell him that whatever it was between you two had to end. There was no future for it, nothing to look forward to.

So why did you fall in love with him? Just when did you manage to fall for the Hands of Midas himself?

You wondered if it was between the silences you’ve shared, as he was a man of few words. Or maybe it was the dedication and focus he had when he was working. Perhaps, one too many instances of you watching him work on the sculptures your father commissioned for the parlour. Nights where you hoped, prayed, wished and even went as far as risking your dignity to beg and plead with the skies if they could make you marble or clay or anything just once. How his hands moved creating lines and shadows, bringing new life to every area he touched - it made you wonder if he could bring a new life to you too. 

You heard him laugh exactly once, but you vividly remember every smile and you secretly wished they were all for you.

If only you knew that Min Yoongi had saved every smile for you. 

He never wanted to be sponsored by the Duke. He didn’t want anything to do with any of the nobles. He’d wanted to stay home, with his family. All he knew for his entire life was art. His mother’s singing, his father’s painting and his own love for sculpting. He was always quiet, observing the world around him and seeing every flaw. But Yoongi thought they were beautiful, so he used his hands to create the world that he sees, the one he loves. He didn’t need anything else. But going to stay with a wealthy family would be good for his own family. He’d get a great education, a place to stay and of course, he could sculpt whenever his heart desired- that’s what his mother told him as she sent him off on the carriage when he was younger.

Of course he missed his mother, cried for the first and last time the day he left. He was sure nothing could ever make leaving home worth it, wanted to curse the Duke and everything he stood for ripping him away from his recently widowed mother. Oh how that quickly changed when a girl with the kindest eyes and the biggest and brightest eyes ran out just as he was getting out of the carriage at the duchy. He noticed the dirt on her cheeks, how she seemed unbothered; happy. How she dragged along who he would correctly assume was a younger sibling- though she expressed more discomfort at whatever she was unwillingly being volunteered into. 

Being sponsored by the Duke had its perks, though. Yoongi would get to spend his days learning whatever they thought he needed academically, and as soon as that was done he’d get to bask in the glow of his art and his loyal audience of exactly one. Just as he would trace the lines on his current project, you would be tracing him. Of course, he couldn’t help the smiles he desperately tried to suppress whenever you were around. That was the only thing that could happen between you two, he knew that. You and him could never happen, surely such a pairing would be doomed from the start. He could only ever dare to reach out to you in his most wretched dreams. That was as far as he would go.

That was how far he thought he would have gone until that day between the marble and the roses things went just a bit too far. Spilled wine, whispered confessions and shared desire broke years of silence and tension. Suddenly, the spectator was the centre of attention. Though Yoongi didn't miss the opportunity that you had always been the star in his eyes. A star he never thought he’d ever get to hold in his hands, despite the risk of being burnt.

The risk was great. He knew it and so did you. 

And yet you would find yourself wrapped up in Yoongi always, somehow. You loved him, you were sure. So what if the risk was drowning? Whatever great thing that you were born to accomplish in this life couldn’t compare to loving him, being loved by him. 

Your mother, ever the noble lady she tried to raise you to be, asked you if you were sure that this was what you wanted to do. Left without a word to speak to your father, you presumed. You knew what it would come down to at the end of the day, knew that surely you couldn’t have your cake and eat it too. 

Your father was always the kind of man to talk about duty and honour. Never failing to tell you and your sister the importance of the roles you were born in. He’d always encouraged you both that being a leader in any sense of the word, was to be wise both in mind and the heart. You were in his office with your sister when he told you that knowledge was just a blade without the handle of wisdom. You were also in his office whenever he scolded you for something like missing lessons with the governess (again) or whenever he praised you for a beautiful painting you made.

This time, you sat stood before him, too scared, too nervous for the outcome. Hoping the ‘But father, I love him’ you were holding on your tongue would be enough of an explanation for him. Hoping that you didn’t break down and cry and beg and plead for him to let you go. That you really tried not to fall for him, but some things were inevitable. You had so much to say in your defense. All ready to run away should they decide to lock you up in the duchy forever or marry you off to some old widower. You weren’t prepared for when your father took your own hand in his, and looked at you with something that you truly did not have the words to describe. “Are you truly serious about this? Do you love him, ___?”

“With everything,” The tears you planned to use and beg were now threatening to make an appearance for a whole different reason. “I don’t want to have to live a life knowing I gave up the chance to love him.” You sat at his feet like you used to when you were much smaller. “I know you’re disappointed in me and that I’ve let you down but father, I��m-” 

You never got to apologise. Not when your father told you you had nothing to apologise for, that he knows this must have meant a lot to you since you actually wanted to apologise for breaking the rules this time. He hugged you and told you he’d already spoken to Yoongi, that you both shouldn’t just run away, that he’d take care of everything- that he could make sure you were safe one last time. What could you have possibly done, except cry while your father held you for the first time in a long time, for the last time in a long time. 

It’s how you found yourself still crying in the arms of your younger sister. You had come to tell her that you had made your mind up, you came to tell her goodbye.

Evening came, stealing away the daylight, but also bringing the time you were to leave everything familiar and dear to you behind. You were still in your sister’s room, head in her lap as she absentmindedly stroked her fingers through your hair. It was almost as if she was the older one today, but then again- she was always the more composed of the two of you. You were leaving her with a heavy burden, a great responsibility. But you knew that she could handle it much better than you ever would, with much more grace than you could even think to imagine.

“What is love, that you’re so willing to give everything up like this?” You took some time before answering your sister’s question, only to put your thoughts together. 

“Love is something that knocks on your door at odd hours in the night. It warms your cheeks when you're out during the day, it chases you through meadows- it’s an adventure that comes to find you when it knows you're ready to sacrifice everything to chase it. Eventually, you’ll find yourself where love  rests.”

“I’m afraid you’ve left me even more confused than I was three minutes ago…” She looked at you, the sad smile not reaching her eyes.

“One day, you will find love, and find yourself, and find your answer.” That’s what you told her as you embraced her for the last time for a long time.

You yourself often wondered what love was. But in the carriage your father arranged for you the night you left home, in the place you now live with a man you were convinced was born from your dreams, in the letters you exchange with your sister ever so often… You can safely say you found it.

AN: Thanks again for reading everyone, feedback is always appreciated 😘.

Taglist

@livingformintyoongi @moochii-daisies @peoniesnro

[xhollowfaerie]

Añoranza

a/n: damn, wombo combo!! two in a day, lol! sequel to this tags: demi4demi soft Rookanis, yearning, hurt/comfort, supportive Spite, idk why but they speak like they're in a historical drama romance lol

-

Rook crept into the dining room in the early morning hours - or at least, that's what Lucanis estimated. It was always daytime in the Fade. He despised it like he despised little else, except Venatori.

“Coffee?” he would always ask. This time, the sight of her left his lips agape before they pursed with emotion. Grief, relief. He wasn’t sure.

A heartfelt “Rook” slid past his lips instead. He wished it could convey even a fraction of all the things he dreamt of telling her.

It’s so good to see you.

Oh, how I’ve missed you.

We have been worried sick. It’s so hard to focus. You’re all I think about.

Let me take care of you. You look exhausted.

I’ve made you coffee every morning.

I know you’re not okay.

I'm so sorry.

How could I ever show you how much you mean to me?

She shuffled towards him, dragging her bare feet against the cold floor. With a scowl, he ducked into the pantry and procured a pair of his own slippers. She slipped wordlessly onto a chair, and he kneeled in front of her, placing them onto the floor. 

He felt something burn in his throat when he looked up.

Empty.

Rook… looked… so empty. It almost broke him.

Spite wailed, tugging onto Lucanis.

‘Misery. Smells like old wounds. Shame! Pretty flower... Wilting!’

A Crow never regarded anything with such love and softness in their eyes.

‘Failed, Lucanis. We failed Rook! She protects us. We couldn’t… Protect our pretty rose.’

Spite sniffled, sitting in the chair next to Rook, behind Lucanis. ‘Tried to help… didn’t work’ he lamented, uncharacteristically quiet. He bit his tongue.

No, he thought. We don’t give up this easily, Spite.

The demon’s scowl lessened. He idly stuck his tongue out over a plate, forgetting he couldn’t see his reflection in it. It made him snarl.

A Crow always fulfills their contract.

People come in three kinds. Family, contracts, enemies.

Which kind did Kore qualify as, as the yearning, adoring gaze of a melancholic Dellamorte studied her so?

She felt the overwhelming urge to collapse into his arms, to wrap hers around him sweetly; to cry into his chest, to run her fingers over his breathtaking face and kiss him until every single thought other than his lips left her mind.

But Kore saw the image of Viper, blighted and bleeding, and grit her teeth, teetering on the verge of tears again as she clenched her fists. It was hard enough seeing Ashur like that… if she ever got Lucanis hurt, she would never forgive herself, or be able to live with it. Live without him.

“Rook” his voice rang again, this time rougher, missing the Antivan accent as he rested his forehead against the side of her thigh. “Lucanis hates. Seeing Rook. So sad.” 

She brought a hand to her mouth and whimpered, hesitantly placing a hand atop his head before it moved on its own, gently running through his hair. “I’m so sorry.”

Spite knew not to overstep this time, letting Lucanis return not a moment later. He was so taken with her, their intimate touches escaped him as he stood a bit taller. How he longed to tuck the pink strads over her face behind her ear.

Do it, the voice in his head rang, and Lucanis couldn’t tell anymore if it was supposed to be a demon or an angel on his shoulder, but, very hesitantly, he obeyed nonetheless. 

His hand paused mid-air as it reached for Kore; he almost jerked it back in fear as she glanced at it, horrified by her awareness, but instead was met with her warmth as she desperately held onto his digits and pulled them further to her face, nuzzling into it, inhaling the scent of his skin, feeling the weight of his fingers ground her.

His eyes trembled, heart erratic in his chest as his other hand followed Spite’s guidance, pushing the mess of hair back so he could see her face.

“I cannot change a thing” he finally broke the silence between them, the self-hatred lingering deep within him, “but I know this better than I have ever known anything in my life: I am your blade, Rook. Sharpened and ready. If you wish to use me for revenge, I will gladly oblige.”

Her tears rolled down onto his hands, and he gained the courage to inch closer. “Not only do I owe you my life, I now owe you the life of everything I have ever held dear” he was so soft-spoken; he could never, ever express the magnitude of his appreciation for her, let alone repay her- “But in exchange, you paid much too steep a price. That which you love.” For that, I cannot forgive myself.

His voice trembled, the gnawing frustration inside him burning at the corner of his eyes. This was so unfair to her, so fucked up. Would he ever stop wronging her? And to think, the most selfish parts of him still wanted her so badly, as if she hadn’t given enough for a lifetime already.

“Lucanis” Kore whispered, and while her heart ached much too painfully to ever part with the words she desired, her eyes did their best to fill in the blanks, gazing at him like she had never gazed at anything, anyone ever before. 

Not all that I love is lost.

He felt his heart threaten to shatter, swell and shrivel all at the same time.

She mustered half of a smile, glancing away shyly as their circumstances sunk in. Kore slowly let go of his hand at the same time he began to retreat with a mirroring blush, both clearing their throats. He ran his hand over the side of the table, as if to smoothen out the tablecloth lacking any wrinkles simultaneously with her shyly tugging her baggy sweater down, in an attempt to cover up more of her thighs.

Spite stared at them, biting into his own hand to stop himself from saying anything, wide-eyed and filled with hope.

“Thank you” Kore choked out, tentatively glancing up at him as she stood to her feet.

He straightened his back and looked around the room awkwardly, their gazes catching each-other for a brief respite before they both glanced away again. “It is I who should thank you, but there are no words in this world to express the light you bring into my life.”

She flushed in place, as did he - mierda, he must have been reading too many romance novels, what in the Maker’s name possessed him to say that?! Of course, Spite snickered, despite the words belonging to Lucanis and Lucanis only.

Kore slipped her feet into the oversized slippers, fidgeting with her scarred fingers in front of herself. “You always say the sweetest of things, and I always fail to reciprocate, despite wishing nothing more…” she mumbled, reaching a hand up to nervously play with her hair. “You have done more for me than you know” she breathed, slowly clenching her hand, steadying her voice. “You do not only bring darkness, Lucanis.”

The exhale was louder than he intended, blinking rapidly as he tried to process her words. Unsure of what to do with himself anymore, he glanced at their empty coffee cups, scrambling to his only saving grace, but she was faster.

“Coffee? I’ve… missed it terribly.” 

The honey in her voice wrapped him in the sweetest trance. She couldn’t get enough of the longing in his eyes, the gravelly sound of his voice reminding her of the oddly comforting feel of wet coffee grounds sticking to her fingers. “As have I.”

He gave her a charming smile, throwing a towel over his shoulder. She watched him roll his sleeves up with a tilt of her head, curving her lips and following behind him, doing the same with a giggle as she relished the sound of his voice again. “Coming right up.”

[areswasneverhere]

romᥲᥒᥴᥱ oᥒ thᥱ sιdᥱ

i’ve never used tumblr, idk how to make this look nice-

Summary: Sam finds a part-time job to make a living and meets a sweet coworker who steals all his time and his heart.

Pairings: Fast food worker!Sam Winchester x coworker!reader. Set right before season 1, therefore Stanford!Sam. coworkers to lovers kinda. f!reader. height difference. Finally glasses wearing!reader.

warnings: fluff, use of (y/n), brief mention of body insecurity, not edited

word count: 3.6 k

-this is my first real oneshot because i haven't written fics in so long, bare with me and give me advice or comment. i love love this community so pls do mwah <3

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study, work, sleep. that's all you do at this point in your life. after moving out of your shitty household, away from your family to finally have the independence you always craved.however, you didn't expect this freedom to get you to be working the night shift in a fast food place on the side of the road, near your college dorms just to make 10 bucks an hour. your mother called it “honest work”, you called it bullshit. 

the days blurred together; class, work, study, sleep – if barely 4 hours counted as sleep. you wake up at six, chug coffee (that never seemed strong enough), sit through lectures half-conscious, clock into a job you hate, go home, repeat. it's mundane, but you told yourself that this was adult life now. it's the freedom you had been craving right? so you didn't complain.

you thanked your lucky star every day that your parents begrudgingly paid for your studies. not many had that. they worked harder than ever to continue to pay for your tuition, extra hours and all. deep down, it made you feel kind of bad. it's one of the reasons why you signed up for that stupid job you hate anyway. to help them in any way you could, because you could see the dirty looks they gave you every time they paid for your studies. you hated being codependent so might as well show them you're not a complete disappointment.

after finishing your studies, you put on the flashy yellow polo shirt with the bland logo on your left pec; unconsciously tugging at its mid section that highlight the squish of your body in ways that make you feel uncomfortable. you scoot into your jeans and reach for your glasses on the nightstand, putting them on comfortably on your nose bridge. let's get this show on the road.

and sam, poor sam, he on the other hand was stressed the fuck out. he wasnt supposed to be here, he was supposed to be buried nose deep in law text books. or spending his nights in the library. maybe to prove to himself - or to his dad - when this was all over that he was still useful and independent like a normal person. but sam was far from normal and that was clear.

“you think life’s hard, sammy? Try hunting things that wanna rip you apart.” either his brother or dad would have said, but he didnt care. he wanted a family, but he didn't have the luxury of it. instead he was standing under the flickering fluorescent lights of the fast food joint he found to work, wearing a name tag with a name that barely felt like his own; ‘sam winchester’. 

sure he was far from home, far from the stress of his family but deep down he still felt like he was running. running from what? maybe his responsibilities. no. it wasn't his responsibility to pick up after his father. 

he wasn't looking forward to being the new guy at work, once again having to be thrown into something he'd just have to adapt to. but it wasnt so bad. he had friends in his university, the same one you happened to go to. he had jess, brady, zach, and luis. it wasn't all bad. he bet zach would have a laugh if he saw how ridiculous he looked in this awful uniform. 

his boss was talking, but he was barely listening, his thoughts too clouded by sleep as they walk down the backrooms of the restaurant and towards the kitchen. where coincidentally, you just walked into. and oh boy the moment he spots you, its like a breath of fresh air, you looked around the same age as him and just as tired. maybe he wouldn't be such a sore thumb in this new job after all. 

you clock into work, waving at your coworkers with a polite smile like you always do. according to your boss, this friendly nature and facade was one of the reasons you were always ‘employee of the month’; you almost scoff at the idea. you, a student doing the bare minimum to survive got you this title. It really shows how shitty this joint is, how little effort the employees put in. this ‘hard earned’ title is also the reason why you spot your boss and a tall young man wearing the employee uniform standing by his side walking towards you with purpose.

“(y/n), we've got a new employee joining our team. As an employee of the month, i want you to train him and show him the ropes, alright? good luck” he says without a breach for protest or a reply. you stand there for a few seconds, rather awkwardly as you and the pretty boy in front of you stare at each other. you push up your glasses, pursing your lips ever so slightly as you think of something to say. this was never asked of you, you were used to just keeping your head down and doing your job, now you were being asked to train a new employee. that's fine.

 “Hi.” he greets first, extending his hand politely. this act made your shoulders relax, the warm tone in his voice was enough to break the awkward silence. you are quickly drawn to his eyes, sweet, puppy dog green-brown eyes. it was actually overwhelming as you instinctively look him up and down. 

you clear your throat, jerking your hand forward and grasping his hand; shaking it ever so slightly. you hear him let out a quiet chuckle, your cheek flare in embarrassment as you realize he's laughing at your awkwardness. but it isn't mocking, it's genuinely sweet. “hi! uh-so…im (y/n)” you finally cut through the silence you allowed to linger for far too long.

“sam” he replies kindly, so kindly it made you want to squish him. cuteness aggression. “you'll…train me?” he adds, eyes darting down to your still joined hands. but he didn't pull away, surprisingly enough, but you do as to maintain professionalism even though every inch of you was begging for you to just hold this cute boy's hand. 

“yup, thats what – yeah thats what im here to do – yes.” you stutter out, scolding yourself internally for acting like this. it made you feel like a weirdo. this boy walks into your life, and within a few minutes makes you feel nervous. you love it. “come” you add, swiftly, turning on your heels and walking down towards the staff down near the back of the building just for some basic instructions to get him on his feet.

the next 2 hours were actually fun. he made training feel like bonding rather than work. you help him with the basics; food safety, customer service, register training, efficiency, all the things that keep this crappy fast food joint up and running like the good employee you are. you two manage to talk so much about your lives during that time, that you don't think you've laughed that much in forever. 

you wipe down the counters, the restaurant’s flow of customers slowing down just enough for you to do a general sweep of the kitchen and keep up with the health and safety protocols bestowed upon you. your wrist starts to hurt as you wipe down the counter next to the grill, eyes darting to sam as he readies to cook more of the burgers, which you had taught him to do. “this job is gonna kill me” you mutter, half joking and gently rolling your wrist around as it starts to get sore from all the effort being put into wiping the single smudge of grease on the counter. “feels like ill spend my entire life here, like i aint moving forward, you know?”

sam exhales a laugh, his hand pausing their movements on the grill as he takes in your words. he knew exactly how that felt, its how he used to feel every day living with his dad and brother. more his dad. john winchester was never known for being warm. “yeah, i get that.” he agrees, pausing for a beat to think. “i guess im just used to it, you know. moving, working, not really having the time for – you know, a life” 

his words piqued your interest, putting the dirty rag in the water bucket to pay full attention to him. “yeah? how come?”

“my family business.” he shrugs lightly but it felt forced. “my dad mostly. he had me and my brother in the…hunting business since we were little, town to town, never settling down.” he scrapes crumbles of dried burger buns from the counter absentmindedly, thoughts consuming his head. “this whole…stanford thing is probably the longest i've settled down without him breathing down my neck”

his tone makes your heart clench, though you've only met today, it felt like you knew this boy more than most of the people in this job and your university combined. to be fair, you didn't meet many people. you walk over to the side of the kitchen, sounds of cutlery and pots banging in the background seemed to fade with the importance of your conversation. “thats why you got this job?” you ask cautiously

“yeah. mostly. i just wanted to do something normal.” he confessed, shifting on his feet and following your activity by grabbing the spatula sitting by the grill and going back to what he was practicing previously; flipping patty’s. “no hunting, no family to worry about…even if its –” he gestures to the air around us, glaring at the fluorescent lights above. “this. even if it kind of sucks” you stifle a chuckle, knowing he was right. it surprised you how much this boy and you were alike but also so different. it was a breath of fresh air. 

you felt like you already knew a lot about him, not all the details, but enough to make you want to dig up more. he was struggling to flip a burger with the spatula. you were watching in amusement by the side of the room, admiring him as he sticks his tongue out and attempts to wedge the spatula under the patty one more time before giving up. “here, let me help” you call out loudly enough for him to hear you but not loud enough to be annoying; the unconscious insecurity of being heard after all. you reach him in a quick few steps, standing beside him and placing a gentle hand on top of his holding the tool.

with practiced precision, you help him push the spatula under the meat patty and swiftly flip it over. your eyes are locked on the food in front of you, not realizing the intimate position you've put both of you in. “ah yes, the mighty spatula is rather hard to work with” you muse lightheartedly, earning a laugh from Sam above you which sends a sense of pride through you.

“this is a weapon i cannot handle” he replies back in the same tone, playing along with you as you work the food for him. your grip on his hand was comforting, warm. it was rare for him to allow this kind of physical contact, but it just felt right with you. and you felt the same. 

by the time you realized the position you were in, it made your heart skip a beat. eyes slowly wander up, finally taking in the prominent height difference between the two of you. your eyes meet and it just feels so sweet, warm. a flicker of understanding passes through the two of you, a desire to want to be around each other without fear of judgement or embarrassment. you remember the words he said earlier, feeling the need to speak, you do. “for what its worth, i think its impressive. your independence…and you're not half-bad at flipping burgers” you tease affectionately which sparks another genuine chuckle from him. 

sam feels the tension on his shoulders melt away. “yeah you think so?” he purred. 

“no, you still suck. but you’re getting there” you reply playfully, both of you laughing together. your eyes catch a smudge of ketchup on his cheek, you had no idea how it got there but you instinctively reach to wipe the condiment from his cheek with your other hand.

it makes him flinch for a split second, making you pause. but then he leans into your palm, your thumb continuing its previous motion and wiping the ketchup from his cheek ever so gently. your hand lingers for longer than necessary, but he doesn’t seem to mind. the smile on his lips growing wider, seemingly excited. it makes your face burn and you pull away, dropping both your hands to your side.

you slowly peel yourself from him, letting out a hearty laugh and fixing the tacky uniform; tugging at its collar as the air around the two of you seems to shift. sam’s eyes cast down for a split second, seeming almost disappointed that you had pulled away. “thanks” he mutters back, eyes back at you. he refused to look away, drawn to you so suddenly as if you were everything he ever needed. 

but before either of you can acknowledge what was happening, you smell fire and hear sizzling. your gaze falls on the patty, gasping as you see it burst into small flames. sam yelps and instinctively pulls away from the grill, waving the spatula around before both of your gazes fall on the fire extinguisher. 

“shit!” you hiss, taking a few steps back from the grill. he acts faster than you, reaching for it while you stand there wide-eyed. WHOOSH. the fire extinguisher goes off loudly, covering everything. by everything, you mean everything. the fire, the grill, and you. the fire was gone but so was the meat we were preparing and your uniform covered in white foam.

that was until the boss burst into the kitchen, looking pissed off but mostly worried for us. “what the hell is going on here?!” he shouts, rightfully so, to be honest, you think. his eyes fall on the charred patty, the grill and you covered in foam while sam holds the extinguisher like a weapon. 

you look over at sam to gauge a reaction out of him just to see him already looking at you. a crack of a smile breaks his look of fear, your face mirrors his until you both break into quiet chuckles. these chuckles grow into belly laughs as you lose it, sam places the fire extinguisher on the floor as you laugh at the idiotic situation you found yourselves in. 

you two didn't get into nearly as much trouble as you thought you would, it just put a microscopic stain on your reputation as an employee and put sam to a bad start. but it seemed to be alright with both of you as you walked back to the dorms of Stanford together at about 7pm.

the night was chilly, grey clouds coating the skies as you two walk side by side in comfortable silence. the moment he found out you go to the same university, he offered to walk you to your dorm building and you agreed without hesitation. skip out on this cute guy walking you? no way.

“i swear my feet are so tired, if one more person asked for extra pickles i was gonna lose it…” you murmur under your breath, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips which sparks a softer one from him almost in agreement. “today was so busy, how are you not exhausted?” you ask, adding onto your previous statement. 

he shrugs ever so slightly, grinning down at you with a bashful expression. “guess im just built different” he muses, you bump your hip with his in return. “or maybe i just wasn't running around as much as you were, you were all like-” he mimics your stressed-out movements, working in an imaginary station which makes you playfully roll your eyes. 

you nudge him with your elbow, biting back a soft grin. “hey, i'm not the rookie here, rookie” you emphasize, he elbows you back in return, his laugh is louder this time. the both of you were internally over the moon; proud you could make each other laugh like this not knowing the other was simply happy with the company.

it was like neither of you wanted to reach your dorms, steps trailing slower than normal. the silence between you two seemed to stretch out comfortably - but you decided to break it. “so stanford?” you ask calmly, stuffing your hands in the pockets of your jacket. well, his jacket. the one he insisted you wear after he sprayed you with cold foam.

sam exhales, “well, i needed to get away from my family in some way. where i ended up didn't matter as much” he replied, eyes casting down at the ground as you walk.

“i can understand. your dad doesn't seem like the supportive home-y type” you sympathize, recalling the few things he mentioned about his dad back at the diner. this makes him deflate, guilt stinging your chest as you realize you might have pried too much. “hey, im sorry–” you add quickly, placing a comforting hand on his bicep

to your surprise, he leans into your touch, like hes been carrying this weight for too long. “no, you're okay.” he murmurs. “you're right. my dad isn't really the homey type” he agrees, eyes finally darting from the ground, up at you. well, down at you, again considering the man was a giant.

for a moment, he hesitates as if debating whether to keep going. wondering if you would even care. but the look in your eyes said you would. “my brother…wanted me to stay.” he mutters again, eyes staying locked in yours as you walk. ”i don't think he even knows if i’m alive.” he admits. for a moment it felt like you were the only person he could confide in and vice versa.

“you know…it's so easy to talk to you” sam adds warmly. you could sense the nervousness but genuine interest flowing from him like waves. your hand drops from his arm, brushing against his hand with a feather-like touch for a split second. that split second felt like fire, welcoming fire. 

your nose crinkles ever so slightly at his words, pride and relief rushing through you at his reassuring words. you felt…excitement and triumph. the way he looks at you, his touches and his warmth are all signs that maybe, just maybe, this cute co-worker of yours actually likes you. and before you knew it, you were standing under the arched entryway of your dorm building.

you stop by the entry doors, turning your back to them and facing sam with a grateful smile. he returns it shyly, boldly taking your hands in his. his thumbs run across your knuckles, committing their soft surfaces to memory. he brings your hands to his lips, placing a lingering kiss on them. “thanks for letting me walk you…” he mutters, his voice blending in perfectly with the atmosphere. the crickets, the almost nonexistent breeze of the night.

“you're always welcome to do so” you reply, keeping the intense eye contact from before. you feel the thumping of your heart, growing louder and louder.

“i guess i'll see you tomorrow?...” he continues after a few moments of silence. your palms were clammy but you felt emboldened by his words, placing your hands on his shoulder and using it as leverage to reach his cheek. you hesitate for a few seconds but press up on your toes and brush a quick, warm kiss on his left cheek. his skin was so warm under your lips, you almost didn't want to pull away. but when you do, his eyes are wide with wonder as if he wasn't expecting it but it definitely wasn't unwelcome. 

“...tomorrow” you agree under your breath, slowly pulling your hands from his and stepping back. your hands fumble behind you as you reach for the door knob without looking away from him. the way his uniform hugged his arms, the way it dipped to show the smallest patch skin just below his collar. you wanted to remember it all night. “night sam…” you call out, finally opening the door and stepping into the building. 

sam steps back, eyes lingering on your figure as you walk into the building. a soft sigh escapes his lips, a breath he didn't know he was holding this entire time. it dawned upon him that maybe this whole experience didn't have to be forced. maybe work won't be completely unbearable, not when nights with you like this exist. and little did he know, you felt the same. 

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[somnimagus]

My page for @destinytriofanzine! I drew something about kids always dreaming of far off places

[id in alt!]

[buddiesmutslut]

LISTEN. If we get a bisexual!Buck arc, I will ACTUALLY LITERALLY CRY, I’m already emotional just thinking about it, it will literally bring me so much joy

BUT

I don’t want it at the expense of an Eddie coming out arc…

Bc listen, I read a post talking abt how the writers probably won’t give both of them a really flushed out Queer Realization Arc bc it would be redundant, which like, okay sure, yes, I can see why you wouldn’t want to have two main, male characters going through the exact same thing, so sure, whatever, BUT -

I feel like, out of Buddie, Eddie is going to be the one that really struggles with coming to terms with his sexuality.

Eddie, who had to be The Man Of The House at 10 years old. Eddie, who grew up in the Deep South. Eddie, whose family is Catholic. Eddie, who already had a strained relationship with his judgmental parents. Eddie, who had a WIFE. Eddie, who says that what he had with Shannon was magic & compares every relationship he had to her. Eddie, who was in the military, which is infamous for DADT. Eddie, whose aunt constantly pushes him at random women because he needs to not be alone. Eddie, who canonically suffers from comp-het, saying that dating women feels like putting on a performance, not that he understands why. Eddie, who dated Ana & was planning on staying with her, even though he was unhappy, for his son.

I think Buck would be way chiller with realizing he’s queer - if he doesn’t already know, which is my fav head-cannon - & I feel like he wouldn’t struggle as much bc it’s Eddie, & Eddie is his best friend, and gender wouldn’t play as big a part for him as I think it would for Eddie.

I would love for them both to have an arc where they worked through their expectations when it comes to relationships & realize that they’re queer, but idk man, I feel like Eddie is going to be the one to really struggle & he deserves to really have that flushed out.

Idk, I’ve been thinking about this ever since I saw that post & nobody I know watches 9-1-1 😭

[bananafishdepression]

Life is so unfair there are so many shitty shows out there with a dub and Banana Fish never got one and its been 6 years now

[raiiny-bay]

kiddos!

(used this old render as a ref)

[demigod-of-the-agni]

Forgive me, forgive me. I ask, I beg, I pray, but it never comes.

You know I find it incredibly bewildering to see just how much kalki reflects myself in him like YEAH Duh of course he does, he’s my little guy it’s like his full time job. But at the same time he is a fully functional facet of my being and he is at the mercy of my whimsies, and whatever he discovers in his arduous journey of self realisation is ultimately a reflection of what I discover in the real world. It’s also incredibly funny because ffxiv lore for dark knights is really baked into the idea of (re)discovering yourself amongst the bloodshed and continuing to live and love and thrive despite the world working against us. who would have thought such a raw message could come from an mmorpg side quest about edgy emo boys of all places

also adamantite armour of fending i would lay down my LIFE for u

variant + phone bg version + ID below the cut

tch as if you guys are actually going to use artwork of my little guy as your phone background. i know. how dumb. let a girl dream. i should make an alternate version but it's of Fray and Myste

[START ID: A picture with a red background focusing on the character's bust that is placed to the left of the image's centre. He is coloured with a dark blue overlay, contrasting with the red background. He has brown skin, long black hair that falls over his shoulders, and is wearing blue and gold armour and earrings. He is looking at the viewer, right eye dark brown and the left an glowing unnatural red, with an expression that looks determined and angry and yet bitter and forlorn. In the foreground and on the right side of the piece, a miniature version of the character stands coloured in a light blue overlay and wearing the same blue and gold armour, looking as if he is glowing. He is facing towards the left of the piece, or perhaps at the character bust, his expression unreadable. Above the miniature character's head is the symbol representing the FFXIV dark knight, coloured in gold. END ID.]

[lunarharp]

wip thing...

of my bg3 avatar hellebore. i also did some casual nude studies of my 3 characters which i'll put under a cut... rather unlike me after all. (so WARNING for abrupt non-sexual full Artistic nudity lol...,,,,) (< won't be making a habit of this)

they mean the world to me

[hobbithoes]

Gonna start posting again soon fr , it’s just hard to manage my time , venting in the tags incomingggg ✈️

[enden-k]

im so tired of being a sleepy boy

[guinevereslancelot]

not to be ungrateful but i don't get paid enough at my job lol

[supergraphicultramoderngirl]

aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[icefire149]

.

[elektroyu]

This wip 🥺💜😭