#if he has act of life continuation that was probably stolen since that’s one of Hakudou’s techniques

[fancyfeathers]

Imagine Daughter!Reader having a phone that is constantly going off and the batfamily is just like "Who is that?" then one day they look and it's just one of her friends but they literally talk all the time. Nothing wrong with that! Then they find out it's a boy. Batfamily is probably thinking, "Friend that's a boy? Oh hell nah she already has a boyfriend but two boys that aren't family in her life need to GO" Cut to Damian stalking Daughter!Reader at school(it's normal at this point) only to find her arguing with said friend that's a boy and acting like competitive siblings. No seriously, Damian walked into lunch and saw the two arguing over the school brownie that they had found still wrapped up in it's plastic on the lunch table. So the batfamily continues their regular stalking and with how they've been so far I can only assume the siblings will be super jealous of this random boy that's suddenly stolen their "Sister's" attention from them and treating the rando like a sibling more. Side note: I love your writing and I love your page! I hope you have a lovely day/night<3

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling

To be honest they would block his number the second they felt even slightly threatened by someone else, they probably did the same with her boyfriend but they can’t get him out of her life because their families are in the same social circle and they go to the same school.

But honestly I am imagining her friend as like the most unthreatening person imaginable, like a scrawny art kid that she met in her AP psych class. But since they go to the same school the only person who would know what he looks like is Damian, all the rest of her siblings have not the slightest clue. They probably meet him when he is dropping off a hers and Damian’s schoolwork when they both got sick with something, and they honestly did not picture a teenager who probably has more interest in painting butterflies than socializing.

But then when they talk to each other it’s like all walls completely come down, like one day Damian came home and showed them all of a video of Daughter!Darling and her friend getting into a paint fight at school, which is also supported when Daughter!Darling comes into the room ten seconds later with dried paint all over her.

Now Damian will make comments at the boy that are slightly threatening and telling him to back off and mind his business, especially when Daughter!Darling confides in her friend about her home life a tiny bit.

Dick will try to ask her if she wants to do things that she has done with her friends and obviously gets upset when she says no because if she does it with them then why does she not want to do it with him?

Tim may or may not hack his grades to get him moved out of some of her classes, but he won’t if he if a scholarship student because that could end up with him being kicked out of school and Tim has enough of a conscious to not ruin someone’s life just because they piss you off.

Now once graduation comes along and he goes off to college then that is when they completely cut her off from him and any of her other friends, because most of them are leaving Gotham for school and they are already blocked on her phone so if she has no contact with any of them then their relationships are going to begin to break apart until they don’t exist anymore.

Honestly those few months after high school and before she runs away are the worst because she is not allowed to leave the house, she is hardly allowed out of her room without someone else out of fear she’ll try to run away because she is eighteen now and there for no longer has a legal guardian, so that fear of loosing her just becomes more real.

[sealer-of-wenkamui]

There was probably a part of living Douman that wanted to let Limbo take control, which made it so easy for him to do so, cause even if it’s early enough on that he’s not a complete monster, he’s still deeply envious of Seimei, so telling him that he’ll never surpass him is the easiest way to break him. And Limbo is a Douman that *does* have a shot at surpassing him (though he’s proving that by turning the city he protects into a hell on earth). He can attain his dearest wish, if he just gives in to the monster he’ll one day become….

[khywren]

Ravenous

pairing: Astarion/f!reader rating: 18+ MDNI word count: 4.4k tags/warnings: shameless smut, piv sex, oral sex, fingering, blood drinking, praise kink, multiple orgasms/overstimulation

summary: You part your legs for him without hesitation, wetness pooling between your thighs. Astarion hasn't even touched you yet and already you are dizzy with need, obedient without him even needing to ask for you to accommodate him. You would beg him for it if he asked you to. Astarion's voice has fallen to a conspiratorial whisper when he brings his lips close to your ear and asks, “You want to feel more than my fangs inside you, don't you?” ────────── Astarion is feeling particularly hungry tonight. And this time, he's craving more than just your blood.

AO3 ┊ masterlist

Pale light filters through the frost-encrusted windows, the panes of glass rattling as the winds outside buffet the tiny inn you and Astarion have chosen to take refuge in for the evening. Despite the raging storm outside your room, your senses are deafened to anything beyond your immediate vicinity; you hear only the steady, rhythmic drumbeat of your heart and the quiet sounds of pleasure Astarion makes as he takes his fill of you.

A satisfied sigh, a low hum of approval. The eager lap of his tongue against your heated skin. Tame by most standards, but unmistakable evidence of the sheer indulgence that is your blood and the satisfaction it brings him.

By now, the presence of his fangs barely register as anything more than a dull, familiar ache. You sit comfortably on the bed between his thighs, braced against his chest as he cradles the side of your head with an open palm. The fingers of his other hand lay entwined with your own and comfortably in your lap, anchoring you to one another.

Ever since the first time you offered Astarion your blood, the act has had a distinct intimacy about it, one that has grown even more profound as your relationship has developed.

What once were quiet, stolen moments of comfort in camp have become the foundation of your devotion to one another, the one thing you can provide him that no one and nothing else can – at least, not in this particular way.

Lost in your thoughts, you don't immediately notice the shift in your awareness, or the fatigue that ebbs through your body as Astarion continues to drink deeply from you. The feeling almost borders on euphoria, beckoning you to let go and sink into a deep slumber, but you manage to reign yourself in just before your eyes close completely.

He's probably taken more than he should, but you can't spare the effort that it would take to care. Astarion needs blood, and you are more than happy to provide it for him. A gentle squeeze of his hand is all it takes to alert him, and he swallows audibly one last time as he pulls away from your throat. 

With eyes half-hooded and dark as the wine you had downstairs, he looks as though he has just been roused from a deep sleep.

Your heart constricts in your chest as you catch a glance at him from the corner of your eye and turn to watch him. Even now, you still find yourself mesmerized by how beautiful he is, like a pale rose in bloom beneath the full moon.

The corners of his mouth are tinged a subtle pink, the same shade now creeping across the rest of his pallid complexion. You particularly notice the flush that colors the tips of his ears, a stark contrast against the soft white curls of his hair. Pressed up against him as you are, you can feel the change your blood brings to his body, little tendrils of the life and warmth you have so eagerly given him.

Astarion brushes a thumb over the remaining blood on his lips and licks it clean, turning his attention on you.

“You pilfered the extra sweetrolls.”

You're not sure what to make of the flatness of his tone, and when you meet his gaze his expression betrays very little of what he's thinking.

“The barkeep was closing up for the night,” you assert, “and they were just going to go to waste.”

The arts of stealth and sleight of hand have never quite been your strong suits, but during your travels with Astarion, you had come to realize their merits. He had been teaching you the proper ways of remaining undetected, though to somewhat mixed results. But you were trying your best – that even he had to admit.

And if you had happened to put his teaching to good use to steal yourself a couple extra snacks, what harm was there in that?

“And besides,” you add, “I thought you might enjoy the extra treat too.”

Astarion weaves his fingers through your hair, guiding your face up towards his own. His lips are soft against yours when he murmurs, “I'm not chastising you, darling. Merely observing.” You feel him grin as he says, “I'm honestly just impressed that you didn't get caught. Maybe you're not a lost cause after all.”

Before you can protest, he kisses you properly, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. Your part your lips with a heavy sigh, and you detect the distinct flavor of iron still lingering on his tongue as he explores your mouth. There's nothing else significant about the taste of your blood that you can detect, of course, but Astarion must have known the difference the moment he bit you.

When he pulls away, his eyes never leave your face, and you know him well enough by now to sense the thinly-veiled hunger in his gaze.

“You must know that your blood is always a treat.”

He says it almost absently, as if his thoughts are elsewhere. The tempo of your heart rises on instinct, and you know he can hear it when his hand slips from your own and travels over the hem of your nightgown, impossibly warm through the thin cotton fabric.

You swallow thickly, mouth parched as his fingers slip beneath the nightgown and begin to travel up, up, up.

“Although, I must admit, it's hardly the only part of you worth savoring.”

You part your legs for him without hesitation, wetness pooling between your thighs. Astarion hasn't even touched you yet and already you are dizzy with need, obedient without him even needing to ask for you to accommodate him.

You are aware of the press of his cock just below the small of your back, already half-hard beneath his pants. It only serves to excite you that much more, and when you adjust your hips slightly to allow him better access, the friction coaxes a low groan from him that sends a wave of arousal straight through your center.

It must only take moments for his hand to glide up the length of your thigh, but it feels like ages, anticipation building in you like a tightly wound spring about to snap. But instead of relief, you feel even more tense as his fingers press up against your soaked underwear, a maddening barrier between your bodies that you want nothing more than to tear away so that he might finally give you what you need.

You would beg him for it if he asked you to. 

Astarion's voice has fallen to a conspiratorial whisper when he brings his lips close to your ear and asks, “You want to feel more than my fangs inside you, don't you?”

You moan wantonly, rolling your hips against his hand.

“Y-yes…”

Your voice cracks around the single syllable, betraying your desperation.

"I thought so,” Astarion remarks with a low, rumbling laugh. He seems quite pleased with how easily he's gotten you worked up, the smug bastard. But gods, do you want him.

“How many fingers?”

Your breath hitches, and you clench around nothing at the thought alone.

"Two."

Astarion clicks his tongue in what sounds like admonishment, but his hand mercifully slips beneath your underwear nevertheless. He rewards you with a tantalizingly slow drag of his fingers between your slick folds, finally sliding the tip of one single finger inside you. You are so wet and aching for him that he meets little resistance, and you can't help but cry out in pleasure.

“I do so adore your enthusiasm,” he muses. “But you can take more for me, can't you?”

Despite the fog clouding your thoughts all but robbing you of your ability to speak, you manage to tell him, “I... I can try.”

Astarion presses a second finger into you, burying himself to the second knuckle.

“Good girl.”

Your head falls back against his shoulder as his fingers slowly pump inside you in a steady, deliberate rhythm, working you open with a tenderness he reserves only for you. The additional stimulation of the soft pad of his thumb against your clit has you seeing stars, and you instinctively buck your hips to seek more of that delicious friction.

“Astarion…”

Your tone implies so many things: your desire, your growing need for release, your adoration of how well he knows your body, an instrument he plays to perfection every time he touches you.

Astarion presses a third finger at your entrance, lavishing wet, open-mouthed kisses against the shell of your ear and the column of your neck.

“Are you ready, love? I want to hear you sing for me.”

“Yes,” you whine, spreading your legs a little wider and inhaling a bracing breath. You've yet to take him like this, but you know he will make it good for you. He always does.

“Just relax,” he coos. The stretch of his third finger is an unfamiliar ache, but he eases inside you slowly, patiently, making sure you are comfortable. The pain is only temporary, swiftly replaced with indescribable pleasure, and soon his fingers are buried as deep as they can go.

You moan for him between panting breaths, caged against his body by the hand between your legs and his other hand, which palms and kneads your breasts over your disheveled nightgown. Experimentally, he crooks his fingers inside you, grazing the spot that punches a high, keening whine from your open mouth.

“There... that's it,” he praises you, repeating the gesture again, and then a third time, leaving you dizzy and breathless. All the while, you grind against him, lost in your mounting pleasure.

“How's that?”

His voice cuts through your arousal, tethering you to the present moment. It takes you an embarrassingly long time to form a coherent thought, but you grin mischievously when you tell him:

“Feels... good... but not nearly as good as your cock.”

Astarion tenses, the arm that encircles your torso tightening and pulling you firmly against his body.

“Careful,” he growls. “You have no idea what that wicked little mouth of yours does to me. I have half a mind to take you right now, to show you just how good I can be.”

You don't tell him that you know exactly what it does to him. You can feel the evidence of your teasing against your back, the way his hips stutter against you, making you all too aware of how hard his cock has suddenly become.

Perhaps it's the blood loss that makes you bold, but you don't hesitate to push him just a little further, eager to make him feel even a fraction of the overwhelming desire you've already experienced for him. You know he loves it, that fiery spark of yours.

“Then do it.”

Your voice is low, almost breathless as you say it, and not entirely on purpose. Because as much as you enjoy knowing it's taking everything he has not to make good on his word, the thought of him replacing his fingers with that lovely cock of his threatens to unravel you completely.

A moment of tense silence passes as Astarion seems to consider your suggestion. His fingers have stopped moving, and you furrow your brows in frustration, earning you a huff of laughter for your efforts.

“And rob you of an unforgettable evening of pleasure?” Astarion asks, feigning offense. “You must think me cruel.”

His thumb teases slow, purposeful circles around your clit, coaxing another moan from your lips. He isn't entirely wrong – as desperate as you are for your release, it would almost be a shame to end it all so anticlimactically. Astarion seems to be in agreement when he murmurs, “No, I plan to take my time with you. I'm going to take you apart, piece by piece, until the only remaining thoughts you have are of me and me alone.”

He punctuates his words with a series of slow, deep thrusts of his fingers inside you, and your hands fumble for purchase on his thighs, gripping tightly as if it's the only thing keeping you from toppling completely over the edge. It's barely enough.

“I'm yours, Astarion,” you tell him.

"I know, love,” he says tenderly, capturing your mouth in a brief yet searing kiss. His eyes darken, fangs gleaming behind the smirk that plays effortlessly across his face.

“And soon everyone in this dusty little inn will know it too.”

The hand on your breast slips beneath your nightgown and brushes over your bare skin, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan as he pinches your nipple between his fingertips. Embarrassment floods through you when you remember how thin the walls are, and that anyone in the neighboring rooms must already have heard your cries of pleasure.

“Don't be shy,” he insists, returning his attention to your neck as he increases the pace of his fingers inside you, slotting his mouth over the place he fed from you only minutes ago. The wet slide of his tongue against your skin and the way your cunt flutters around his fingers crashes against you in a wave of pure ecstasy, and this time you don't hold back as you cry out his name, your hips bearing down against him as you chase your pleasure.

 Astarion grins wickedly against your throat and makes a primal noise somewhere between a groan and a growl that ripples through your body.

“There you go. I knew you would be good for me.”

Heat pools low in your belly, enticing you closer and closer towards the sweet oblivion you seek. Every drag of his fingers makes you tremble, a messy string of whimpers tumbling from your lips.

You're thrusting against him now with only one thought on your mind, teetering on the razor thin edge between your desire for more of him and the overwhelming need to let him see just how good he makes you feel.

"You're close, aren't you?” Astarion purrs into your ear. “Let go – I've got you.”

It's all the encouragement you need, and you come hard around his fingers, even as they continue to thrust inside you. The walls of your cunt contract around him, and soon your body goes limp in his arms, your chest heaving as you surrender yourself completely to the current that washes away any thoughts that aren't Astarion, Astarion, Astarion.

Astarion murmurs praises against your skin as he kisses along your jaw, your shoulder, and when at last he slides his fingers out of you, you watch as he raises those same fingers to his mouth before slipping them past his lips to get a proper taste of you.

His eyes fall shut and he groans softly in your ear, cursing under his breath. He's drunk on the taste of you, and you know he wants more.

Reluctantly, Astarion untangles himself from you, and you lay back against the pillows expectantly. You watch him with rapt attention as he lifts his shirt over his head, exposing his pale, sculpted chest to your hungry gaze. His pants are discarded just as quickly, cast aside as soon as he can tug them off. Your eyes rove shamelessly over his body, and when at last they meet his, you almost lose yourself in the depths of his adoring gaze. A thousand shades of red you cannot name, roiling like the open ocean in a storm.

But there is one unmistakable thing you see: his hunger for you, so blatant in the way his eyes narrow and his mouth draws into a thin, taut line as he prowls towards you.

Within seconds he's straddling you on the mattress, pushing your nightgown up and over your thighs before he hooks his fingers beneath your underwear. He is growing impatient, and all but tears them off of you. You help him kick them aside, pinned by the intensity of his gaze as he admires your body and all the curves and imperfections he loves so much.

You manage to pull the nightgown over your head in the time it takes Astarion to sink between your thighs, propping himself up in his elbows as once again you part your legs for him. Overstimulated and exhausted as you are, you still ache with need, and when Astarion opens his mouth and runs his tongue over his fangs you clench hard enough that you feel the evidence of your arousal drip obscenely down your thighs.

“Gods above,” Astarion groans. “Look at you. You're absolutely soaking, aren't you?”

Your mouth falls slack, and you can't seem to find your voice. Your heart thunders as Astarion hooks his hand under the back of your knee and spreads you open, granting him unfettered access to you. You watch, almost hypnotic, as he presses his lips against the smooth expanse of your thigh, and you feel the distinct graze of his fangs as he nips at your skin. 

You're trembling again. Astarion kisses slowly up your thigh, stopping right before he reaches your center. “I love you like this,” he murmurs. His tone is low, husky, dripping with want.

“So eager for me. Completely debauched.”

“Please, Astarion…” you whimper. “I want to feel your mouth on me.”

The last thing you see before Astarion buries his face between your slick folds is the sly, wolfish gleam in his eyes, and the instant his tongue touches you you throw your head back and ball your fists in the sheets. With your eyes closed, you become hyper-aware of him between your legs, every move he makes amplified exponentially.

It's simultaneously too much and not enough, and you moan his name obscenely as he teases your entrance, the tip of his nose rubbing against your oversensitive clit. You writhe beneath him, but he clamps a firm hand over your hips to hold you in place.

“Stay still,” he commands. You don't know how you find the willpower to obey, but you somehow manage, though only just. Every nerve ending in your body is alight; you feel weightless and unbound, helpless to do anything but whimper as Astarion feasts on you.

Astarion's tongue slips greedily inside your cunt, tasting your arousal, and he groans again as his hands grip you even tighter. His nails leave little crescent moons peppered across your skin, the grip he has on you nothing if not possessive. 

He means to claim every inch of you.

Emboldened by your pleading moans, Astarion lavishes his attention on you, bringing you swiftly to the precipice of another orgasm. With the flat of his tongue pressed against your aching center, he drags himself slowly upwards, stopping only once he's reached your clit and wraps his lips around it. His tongue swirls around the taut bundle of nerves, and your entire body shudders, overcome with a sensation you lack the words to describe.

Vaguely, you feel the way his hips jerk forward, unable to stop himself from rutting into the mattress as he loses himself in the taste of you. He grunts with every thrust, a low rumble in his chest, and the sound alone nearly undoes you completely.

Your hands are in his hair, weaving through his soft curls as you give them a gentle tug.

“Astarion,” you pant, “I – I'm going to –”

His movements quicken, intensifying the pressure building up inside you. And just when you think you can't take anymore, he flicks his tongue against your clit one last time and you shatter completely, a guttural moan tearing itself from your lips. He lets you clamp your thighs around his head as you ride out your second orgasm of the evening, hips bucking wildly as he guides you through it.

Your vision is hazy when you open your eyes and strain to look down at him. The sight of him, pupils-blown and his face slick with your arousal, is an image you immediately commit to memory.

As he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, Astarion sits back on his calves, eyes trained on you. You can feel his gaze raking slowly over your body, admiration and his devotion to you barely concealing the insatiable desire he no longer has the patience to withhold.

You catch him reaching down to fist his cock, still flushed an enticing shade of pink from his earlier feeding. A fat bead of precum glistens at its tip, and he hisses softly as his fingers brush against it.

“You need it, don't you?” he says, pumping himself. “My cock, buried deep inside you, filling you with every thrust.”

He must be imagining it himself; every time his hand glides up his length, he hisses through clenched teeth, fangs digging into his lower lip as his eyes fall half-closed.

“And my mouth... What about that, darling? I'm not quite finished tasting you yet.”

You watch him reverently, transfixed by his every movement. Your voice is raw and strained when you reply, “Oh, gods... Anywhere. Everywhere.”

Astarion huffs a laugh and leans forward, his cock slipping through your slick folds. You can feel the blunt head teasing your entrance, not quite pushing inside, though at this point it would take no effort for him to do so. His willpower must be immense. It's far stronger than yours, at any rate, and you cant your hips upward, whimpering when the head of his cock slips inside you just far enough for you to feel how hard he really is.

“Greedy little thing aren't you?” he says, his eyes darkening. He steadies himself with a hand on your hip and hovers over you, lowering his mouth until he's just above your lips.

“How lucky for you that I'm feeling exceptionally generous tonight.”

He kisses you fiercely now, all tongue and teeth, and you taste yourself again as he coaxes your mouth open.

“How about here?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. You roll your hips against him again, but he remains infuriatingly still. When he tears his lips from yours, he peppers kisses along your jaw, tracing a searing path down the curve of your neck.

“Or here?”

His tongue sweeps over the bite on your neck, hard enough to reopen the wound he left before. He laps at the trickle of blood and swallows.

“Or perhaps…”

Astarion leaves more kisses across your bare skin, and you know well before he reaches his destination what he plans to do. Your entire body seizes with anticipation, amplifying the pleasure that lances through you like lightning when his mouth finds your nipple and he takes it into his mouth, biting gently on the taut bud.

“Yes!”

Your back arches off the mattress as you cry out, and Astarion finally slams himself inside you, burying himself immediately to the hilt. He wastes no effort to be gentle with you, his hips snapping forward as he fucks into your tight, wet heat with almost reckless abandon. As you expected, his fingers were nothing compared to the delicious stretch of his cock as he bottoms out, again and again and again with each thrust. Every drag of his cock is pure ecstasy, and if not for your delirious state you know you might easily come again from just this alone.

You hear him moan, low and primal in the back of his throat, and you know he won't last long. His fangs are against your skin once more, pressed against the upper part of your breast, and you have only to whimper a quiet, “yes,” before he sinks them into you yet again.

It isn't about the blood – although you won't find him complaining. Rather, he's marking you as his, in a place that only you will see. It isn't the first time he has done so, but it never quite loses its thrill. You bear the marks of his passion all over your body, anywhere and everywhere he's put his hands or his mouth upon you.

“Astarion…” you breathe, wrapping your legs around the small of his back with what little strength you have left. Astarion pulls away from you just enough to grab your hands, interlacing your fingers as he lifts your hands to either side of your head.

“Again,” he growls. “Louder.” He pistons into you, hard and deep, the head of his cock hitting just the right spot to nearly drive you mad. It feels so good you almost forget your own name, let alone his.

“Astarion.” The sound of his name on your lips has a profound effect on him, as does the way your cunt clenches greedily around his cock, and his hands grip yours more tightly as he fucks you even harder. The wet slap of skin on skin intermingles with your shared pants and moans, and you've long since lost track of where your body ends and his begins. 

“Astarion!”

The steady rhythm of his hips staggers only slightly, but you know he's all but reached his limit. A sheen of sweat glistens on his skin, his hair limply hanging over his face. But through it all, his eyes still find yours, burning intensely as the hells themselves.

“...fuck –!”

Your name is on his lips like a prayer as he tumbles headfirst into his release, groaning as he spends himself inside you and buries his face into your neck. His hips jerk forward sporadically as he rides out the rest of his climax, not quite willing to pull out even a moment too soon.

As exhausted as you are, you don't complain when he practically collapses on you, his stamina equally spent. All the while, he never lets go of your hands.

He has made good on his word, and you don't have the strength left even to pull him into your arms, and when you try to move it feels as though you're treading through deep water.

“You're going to be the death of me, darling,” you hear Astarion murmur, his face still pressed against the hollow of your throat.

You laugh quietly, and point out the obvious: “You're already dead, Astarion.”

With some effort, he lifts you up and into his lap, arms encircling you in a loose embrace that is the only thing still keeping you upright. You hook your arms clumsily over his shoulders, grinning as he leans forward to capture your lips in a slow, passionate kiss.

“And yet” he remarks, parting from your mouth only as far as he needs to for you to hear him speak. “I've never felt more alive than I do right now.”

[aomiiine]

𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀 𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈

jujutsu kaisen w HIGURUMA HIROMI format. headcanons + scenarios warnings. fluff + nsfw. mdni. fem!reader. oral(reader receiving). fingering. pretty tame and domestic stuff. summary. unorganised thoughts ab higuruma.

author’s note. this is literally just me yapping ab all the possibilities w higuruma cs i love the man and i’ll probably reblog this w a continuation of my thoughts + non-sorcerer au so he’s just an overworked lawyer here

PART 1

Similar to nanami kento, he’s a busy man, perhaps even busier since he’s a lawyer. Being at the office most of his time made him a stranger to the mundane pleasures of dating—especially so when you suddenly barged into his life.

A stranger as he is, he tries his best. Sending delivery flowers to your own workplace when he finds himself staring at his phone, waiting for a lightbulb to go off in his head to find an idea on what to do or say to you after hours of no contact.

He wanted to talk you, he truly did, but he didn’t what to talk about exactly. He was the best at the finding the big words to get his point across when presenting something to the judge in court, and yet here he was, as speechless as ever with you.

If it wasn’t flowers, then it’d be a short voice message that he begrudgingly made when he finally had the words to say to you at the busiest of moments he was in. As deep and dismissive his voice may be, his words expressed enough when you heard him say your name. In fact, you would always notice how he keeps calling your name in the audios he sends you, like if he was yearning for you and lazily keeping it under wraps. He was too unbothered to truly hide his affections for you, admitting to whatever accusation you made on him.

You thought he was down bad? He won’t deny it. You called him out for his lack of subtlety of being infatuated with you jokingly? He’d say yes to it immediately without realising you were just teasing.

He picks you up from work whenever he could but most of the days he’d come home later than you do so you’d have to go home on your own. Though when he gets home late at night to you, he’d take off his suit jacket and have his sleeves rolled up, ready to curl you up in his arms and drag you to bed with him.

He’d have one arm firm around your waist, his hand hold your side once he has you on top of him on your shared bed. His cologne would wash over your nostrils, making you playfully complain why and how he still smelled so good after so long at work. It’d make him scoff, his eyes closed and the corner of his lips curled to a smirk.

Once he has you in his arms it’d be hard for you drag him out of it. You knew for a fact he was baiting you with his closed eyes, ignoring all you excuses and pleas to get out of bed and shower, maybe even have dinner you kept for him. Higuruma would ignore them all, waiting for you say the magic words—i’ll bathe with you.

Only then would he finally release you from his grasp, loosening that arm he had around you, patting your hip as he got up from the bed with you.

With a tug on his tie, he’d take slow steps into the bathroom, watching you walk into it first and the lights open. He’d tilt his head to the side slightly, a faint smile of amusement making it’s way to his face at the sight of you failing to hide that hint of excitement as you got the faucet on your bathtub running, your movements quick and rigid despite your best efforts to act natural.

PART 2

The silent process of helping him undress was awfully suffocating, the tension and stolen glances with only the sound of water running in the background making you hold your breath against your will. Your hands up against his chest untying the now loose tie around his neck made your body heat up, the soft yet short breaths leaving your lips not going unnoticed by either of you. Looking up at him was impossible but also so fucking irresistible. You’d flicker your eyes up at him only to find out he was already looking you, the sight of his own gaze fixated on you alone made your thighs rub against one another, the slick of your arousal beginning to coat your panties.

You finished untying his tie and took steps back, checking up on the bathtub that was now near full of water. While you went to close the faucet filling up the bathtub, higuruma would start unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders and carelessly letting it fall to the floor. He’d innocently tease you by making the sounds of the metal on his belt louder than it should be, purposely making you hyperaware that he was stripping.

Finally, he’s naked and bare in the bathtub with you. He’d have his head thrown back against the curved rim of the tub behind him, letting out an exasperated sigh that he knew would catch your attention. When your head finally turns to him and your pretty voice utters his name, he lift his head off the cold rim of the tub, leaning forward to you and slithering his arm around of stomach under the water. He’d give you a short hum, his voice hoarse yet still curious.

While you went on talking about your day at work all that he’d be thinking about if how perfectly your soft body fits against his hard one, like a puzzle piece he’d been missing for the entire day, and the years he lived before you. He’d have his thumb gently rubbing the side of your rib, nuzzling his chin onto the top of your head and letting you feel the reverberations of his gravelly voice through his neck that he had so close to the back of your head, his adam’s apple bobbing and all whenever he acknowledged you.

Higuruma would have his hands wandering as you speak, you words progressively being reduced to incoherent mumbles when you felt his fingers moving down your tummy, fingers rubbing circles on your pelvis before slipping lower to the fold between your thigh and your hips. His calloused fingers would be cupping your heat under the water in no time, his eyes following his hands and looking down at you with soft hums to keep you thinking he was still paying attentions to your mutters. Higuruma’d point out how your voice was getting quieter and quieter with each second that passed, exhaling a brief chuckle when you retorted him in return, blaming him for distracting you.

You’d have your legs spread further in the water, your thighs pressing up against his to give him access to your cunt, shivering when he scissored your folds, his middle finger making slow strokes up against your slit. Higuruma would have the length of his middle finger ground up against your slit while he teased you, revelling at the sight of you squirming in the water between his legs. Fuck, he was tired, he’ll admit. But what would be better rest than the sleep he’d get after fucking you, after making you feel good.

PART 3

Sundays. A day that was supposed to be his day off was spent by being in his office completing paperwork and sorting documents from last night. Being the menace you were, you bothered him. Coming in and out his office, whining and complaining about how he should spend some time with you on his day off.

After hours of convincing, he gave in. Higuruma thought that maybe if he gave you what you wanted so bad, you’d be sated and leave him alone for a while. But oh fuck, he was so wrong.

It’s been God knows how many minutes know and he still had his face buried between your legs, your skirt hiked up to your hips and your body sprawled on his desk. He had your legs hung on his shoulders, your heels burying into his back whenever his hooked nose ground against you clit, your hips rolling forward to seek more friction from him however you could.

His desk was a mess now, your hands flinging and pushing some stacks of his well-organised files off the table unintentionally. You muttered some apologies but he shut you up with deliberate strokes of his tongue up for entrance, lapping up your juices shamelessly. His eyes remained as stern before, though they were more fixated on the view of your body that he saw from his perspective. He loved it, the sight of you with your back arched and writhing for him, your hands gripping onto whatever you could of the table to use as an outlet for the onslaught pleasure he was giving you.

Higuruma would have you cum on his tongue once and continue on his assault on your sopping wet cunt with his tongue all up until he made you reach the brink of another orgasm only to pull away, sitting upright in his chair and licking your juices that he had smeared on his lips, using the back of his hand to wipe your cum dripping down his chin. He’d leave you panting and aching for more, mewls and pleas leaving your lips to let you cum just one more time though you knew he wouldn’t—he’d break your pretty mind instead.

[ilguna]

Piano Sessions: Style + Finnick Odair -- reader x Finnick faking a relationship to gain favor in Capitol, but real feelings develop, maybe have them towing that line in the lead-up to Quarter Quell

☼ style (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing, use of the term 'good girl' kinda in a gross way, mention of gore, brief mention of the morphlings.

wc; 2.9k

notes; Piano Sessions: songfic, Style by Taylor Swift.

--

Finnick Odair is one of those victors that you have never been able to properly figure out, despite knowing him for almost eight years.

Every time you think that you’ve finally got a handle on his thought process and the way he acts, he strays, surprising you. Over the years, his impulse decisions have slowly declined, as his situation with the Capitol and District Four stabilized. However, with recent problems rising, it’s brought back his unpredictability. 

For some reason, you don’t have this issue with any of the other victors. In fact, you could read them like an open book, cracking their spines in the process because you can delve deep. It’s really not that hard to sniff out secrets in their seemingly perfect facades when you’ve been doing it for so long.

It’s a talent, really. One that not a lot of people appreciate. What happens is that they find it irritating when you know their intentions before they’ve had the chance to approach you. Most of the time, they have this look in their eye, giving it away. You don’t even need to search half the time because of it.

That’s why you can tell that Finnick is up to something right now, but you don’t know exactly what it is. From what you’ve gathered so far from the stolen glances in your direction, is that it has something to do with you. He’s just waiting for the right moment to talk to you.

Which is driving you crazy. You’re not sure what the right moment could possibly be, especially now that the two of you are on a train being shipped to the Capitol in their custody. This is not just another year of mentoring, where every thought can wait until you’re ready. You’re District Four’s tributes in the Quarter Quell, unspoken words could mean life or death. They can change the trajectory of the Games.

He knows this, of course. Probably better than anybody.

You suck in a breath through your nose, rolling your head in his direction, making eye contact right as he glances at you again. Instead of looking away immediately, the two of you enter a silent staring contest.

It doesn’t last for long. “Are you going to say it or are you going to keep looking at me?” You ask.

Finnick offers you a small smile, getting up from where he’s sitting on the plush train couch to go to you. Where you’re sitting at the dining table, enjoying the bottomless pot of sweet tea that the avoxes provide.

A laugh leaves him. “I was thinking, while we’re in the Capitol, we could fake a relationship to gain more favor.” He says nonchalantly. It’s so relaxed coming from his mouth that you almost feel ridiculous when you choke on your drink. “So that we have nothing to worry about with sponsors in the arena.”

You raise a napkin to your lips, clearing your throat, trying to get the burning pain to subside quicker.

“And it could work out in your favor too, you’ll get allies.” He continues. “Since we both know that you have a special talent for driving people away.”

You raise your eyebrows, blinking, absolutely speechless. This is exactly what you mean when you say that Finnick makes it so difficult for you to pin him down. And you’re not referring to the add-on at the end. You’re talking about the way he just casually suggested for the two of you to fake a relationship.

“Have you hit your head recently?” You ask.

“No.” He lets out a light laugh. “You can’t tell me I’m wrong, especially about the sponsor part.”

You know he’s not wrong. Your ability to anticipate intentions have lost you a good handful of friendships over the years, particularly in District Four. Your former friends saw you as an opportunity for money after your win, despite having plenty of it for themselves. So, you lost them. You told them to get lost. 

It’s stunted a lot of potential friendships since, and it’s because you’re entirely too suspicious to let new people in right away. It happened with Finnick, even though he was the one to really mentor you before going inside. You couldn’t quite place your finger on him, which makes sense seven and a half years later. He doesn’t have a consistent personality.

Still, on the other hand, your gut feeling has given you a chance to grow in other areas. Like with the Capitol, for example. You used it to your advantage during your Games, like when you interacted with the tributes around you. You knew what the Gamemakers were looking for with scoring, giving you a higher one than you deserved.

You simultaneously flattered the Capitol while talking about yourself during the interview with Caesar, getting you a step in the door. It truly isn’t difficult to sweep the Capitol off their feet in the first place, but you managed to do it so effortlessly that they held onto you. They cared about what happened to you in the arena.

When you won, it only continued from there. You became the Capitol’s favorite female darling, because Finnick was their male. It wasn’t long before you were the good girl, you couldn’t do anything wrong. Even when your tongue accidentally slipped and you showed some of your true colors.

So, while Finnick isn’t wrong about allies, he’s far off about sponsors. It’ll work more in his favor than it will in yours. Although, with his own fairly decent sized sponsor list, you two could blow the competition out of the water with your combined efforts.

But then again, you don’t really care about having allies right now. They don’t inherently matter until you’re in the Capitol, and even then with the chaos going on in the districts, you need to figure out who will be good to have around. You volunteered knowing full well you were signing up to go blind, which is why your whole plan revolves around analyzing the mindsets of the other tributes.

Especially when it comes to Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, but you know how difficult they can be. You’ll be looking at Haymitch for real direction when it comes to the rebels. His teenagers sparked the rebellion, and the rest of you will make sure that it gets set ablaze.

Finnick’s plan is almost meaningless. And so is he, to you, in some capacity. You don’t need him, you haven’t in years. If he’d been paying attention to that recently, he’d know that you’re self-sufficient in the Capitol, and you’ve never been afraid of approaching other tributes. This year will be even easier since you’re all victors, anyway.

Finnick’s proposition is just so bizarre. 

Here’s the thing—it’s been a while since you’d heard from him. The last time you held a genuine conversation beyond the formalities was a year and a half ago, when you’d decided that you were done with his whirlwind romance. He would suck you into his own personal vortex, and the only reason why you’d get spat out would be because he wasn’t interested anymore.

And it’s not like this happened once, it was multiple times. The reason why you kept going back was because your relationship before hadn’t been like that. It changed a couple months after Annie Cresta won her Games. One day, you two were stable. Next, there were more issues than you could take care of, which would be the beginning of the end.

Of course, you tried to fix every problem you had, but it didn’t feel like you were making progress. So, the next solution came to be an on-and-off relationship. You would get together, everything would be fine for a couple months, and then you’d break up. By the time he wanted you back, you’d be over the fight, and you’d go right back to him.

You thought that after the last time, he’d be done. Yet here he is, surprising you again.

“Come on, (Y/n), it’ll work out in our favor.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“It’ll work out in your favor.” You correct him. “I don’t care either way, and I think you knew that already.”

Finnick tilts his head with a knowing smile. “You caught me, but I meant what I said about allies. I have an in, and you don’t. You’ll be able to skip the processing time with me.” He winks.

He must be talking about the rebels. It makes you wonder how he’s been talking to them, especially Haymitch, or anyone else that might be involved in higher places, besides District Four. Your home has been making quite the uproar since the news of the Quarter Quell, it’s just gotten worse recently. They’ve basically flooded every possible open space with the Peacekeepers, afraid of the Mayor being overthrown. Or worse, joining in on the rebellion. Which is why they replaced the old Head Peacekeeper with a new one, and she’s a fucking bitch.

“Let me guess, I’ll have to follow your lead?”

He makes a face, “Not exactly. I can’t be in charge of an alliance that large, so I’m sure we’ll all be given a part to take care of.”

You squint at him as the realization that this is a terrible idea dawns on you. You have to admit, it’s a creative way to get you back into his arms after so long, but if it’s anything like the past ten times, you know where this leads. And you know that you should tell him to leave, but you won’t.

“Fine, I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend.” You emphasize.

Finnick gives you a dimpled smile. “I knew you’d agree.”

—

The Capitol has been eventful in its own boring way this past week.

In terms of training and impressing the Gamemakers, there wasn’t anything new. You showed up to the gym, you played around with their toys, and you’d go back to the apartment at the end of the day. From the outside looking in, no one’s been able to tell that there’s more going on in the background.

If they looked closer, they’d see that you’ve been conspiring with victors that you haven’t shown interest in the past. That you’ve been getting along with Johanna and morphlings, when rivalries and distaste haven’t been hidden from the public. That you haven’t been their perfect little darling all week.

With the Games quickly approaching, and happening as soon as tomorrow, it’s been hard to keep the anticipation from boiling over. Especially since Haymitch’s plan has finally been smoothed out, after days of working out the kinks.

At the beginning of training, you scoped out Katniss and Peeta. Truth be told, they weren’t sure about how they felt about you. After some proving, Katniss was able to admit to Haymitch that she knows something is off with you. LIke you can read her thoughts and act on them before they’re fully formed. All Peeta could say was that he thinks you’re nice and looking for peace.

This gave Haymitch an idea, which eventually led to him giving you a role—just as Finnick said he would. It’s pretty obvious how distrustful Katniss can be with Finnick, and so you’re expected to placate her, in hopes that Finnick will be able to keep control of any given situation. You told them that you’d try your best. 

If Katniss can already sense what you’re doing, it’s only a matter of time before she fully catches on and shuts you down. Once that happens, there will be no coming back. She’s stubborn, so she’ll go out of her way to ignore you and your advice. You can see it coming.

Until then, you’ll keep your promise.

“And you’re finished!” One of the prep team members sighs. He backs up, hands pressed against his chest with a dreamy look in his eye. “We’re right on time, too. They haven��t been waiting long.”

You get up from where you’re sitting on the stool, watching as your dress glimmers in the soft light. Immediately, someone jumps to fluff out the back, not wanting it to be flat. A floor-length mirror is moved to be in front of you, allowing you to see the iridescent dress. It’s primarily blue, sometimes purple, rarely pink unless you move a certain way.

“Like a soap bubble.” Your stylist remarks. “Clean.”

Of course, the colors were done with a purpose. To continue to project the idea that you’re the Capitol’s perfect darling. Maybe it’s done with the hopes that they’ll take it easy on you inside of the arena, but their opinions will change over time. They’ll smile through the gore and murder. They’ll be outraged when you try to escape.

“Thank you.” You murmur, heading for the door.

The boy seemingly jumps to open the door for you, and then he stops. You look over your shoulder at your stylist, face twisted, hoping he’ll tell him to get out of your way. Instead, you’re met with an open box, and laying right in the middle of black satin is a pair of white gloves.

They’ve got to be kidding, you think. As you force a smile to your face, you reach for the gloves, pulling them on one at a time. They’re foreign, material slightly uncomfortable against your soft hands. 

Now they open the door, letting you out.

You leave your room, going down the hall and into the living area to find Mags and Finnick. You’re greeted with a warm smile, Finnick moving across the room to hold your hand as you go down the few steps.

“Gloves?” He questions, rubbing his thumb over the material.

“I’m clean.” You roll your eyes, he lets out a breath through his nose.

“Of course you are.” He reaches to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, eyes fixated on yours.

“You’ve got that daydream look in your eye.” You murmur, stroking the side of his cheek with the back of your finger. 

It’s a look that you’re familiar with. It’s sexy, sultry. It’s what your mind clings on to when you think about him, when you dream about getting back together with him. You know that it’s a facade that he puts on for the Capitol, but he’s perfected it over these years. You can’t help falling for it, too.

“You have that red lip, classic look that I like.” Finnick murmurs. “My type in every way.”

Yes, you know. You’re Finnick’s type, because you started it. You’re the girl he loves so much that he can never get enough of, even when you’re not together. So every girl that he dates now has to have some quality of yours, because you’re the blueprint. And all the girls that come after are the copies, second editions. Clones.

But he never really needs them, because when you go crashing down, you come back every time. By your will, or the universe’s, you can never stay apart for long. You thought that the last break up was it, yet you’re here again, back to taking care of each other. You love him.

You think you love him.

“It’s time to go, we’re going to be late for check-in!” Your escort warns you two, coming down the steps. “To the elevator, let’s go.”

You reluctantly pull away from Finnick, offering him a small smile. He motions for you to go first, following behind you casually. Your escort is the last to leave the apartment, but she’s quick to enter the elevator first. She presses the buttons, holds the doors to ensure you all make it on, and then relaxes.

Once you’re on the ground floor, she loses interest in control, pushing you and Finnick to join the rest of the victors, while she takes care of the rest. This is the last time you’ll see your stylist, prep team and Mags for the night. They’ll be in the crowd, somewhere in the front row, where you’ll be able to see them when you’re on stage.

The interviews haven’t started yet, but they will be soon, judging by the giant clock on the wall, counting down from ten minutes. There’s victors scattered everywhere, friends having their own conversations. Johanna catches you two through a brief glance, waving you over to join her.

Your pace doesn’t change. You play with one of the fingers of the glove. “What’s your plan for the interview? I heard an idea going around, and I was thinking of joining in, but I wanted to hear what you’re doing first.”

“I wrote a poem.” Finnick shrugs, “For a girl.”

You blink, face twisting as you slow down. “Why would you do a poem for me when I’m with you?”

Finnick opens his mouth, and then closes it.

Your body warms as you come to a stop in the hallway. Finnick’s lips are pressed together, head slightly tilted. “It’s for Annie, isn’t it?” You ask. “I heard you’ve been out and about with some other girl.”

Some other girl, you mock in your head. It’s Annie. He’s been out with Annie, part of the reason why you think your relationship has failed in the past. It’s no coincidence it started after she won. You had a feeling there was something going on between them before you left District Four, but you were just going to ignore it because it couldn’t have been true. Finnick wouldn’t cheat.

“What you heard is true, but I can’t stop thinking about you and I.” Finnick reaches to take your hands, squeezing them. 

You sigh, “I’ve been there too a few times.”

--

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

[stariwrites]

This is probably incomprehensible cause it’s 2am where I am but I had to get this out.

GN reader x Jason Todd, pining, summer, basically just that feeling where you’re hanging out and don’t want it to be over. The song they’re singing in this is Granite by Sleep Token. This is incredibly self indulgent.

“We’ll have to do this again sometime,” Roy said, opening the car door. The lights blinded you at first, so used to the only glow coming from the radio.

Jason smiled, the two doing their excessive secret hand shake from a time where they were both younger, sidekicks of Batman and Green Arrow alike. You watched them in awe.

You wondered what it must be like to have that kind of closeness with somebody—not that you didn’t have close friends, but none of you had your own handshake or secret language that followed Roy and Jason. It made something settle heavy in your chest.

Roy looked back at you, giving you a fist bump. “You’re gonna join too, right?”

Warmth settled in your chest as you nodded with a smile. “I’d love to!”

He cheered stepping out of the car while Jason turned to face you from the driver’s side. He gestured to the now vacant passenger seat.

“You can move up front, if you want.”

If he noticed your surprise, he said nothing. You undid your seatbelt and got out of the car. Roy held the door open for you, dramatically. You smiled. Even though it was your first time meeting Jason’s friends it felt like you had known them your whole life.

“Why thank you,” you said hopping into the passenger seat.

Jason rolled his eyes at the display. “Get inside, Roy. It’s cold.”

“It’s summer.”

“Shut up.”

You giggled while Roy finally went to go inside his house. The two of you waited in silence, making sure he got in okay. Once he shot a thumbs up from inside, Jason began to pull out of his driveway.

The music was quiet, calm. You watched the scenery as Jason drove. The night had crept in on the three of you, after visiting various places and restaurants it was time to call it a night.

“Thank you,” you said. Ending the quiet between the two of you.

“For what?”

You shrugged continuing to look out the windshield. “For inviting me, your friends are really sweet.”

He snorts, putting his blinker on. His eyes glow in the dim light of the car. He looks beautiful basked in the various lights of the moon and radio.

“Wait until you hang out with them more, they’re menaces I swear.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Takes one to know one I guess.”

He scoffs. “Rude.”

“Am I wrong?”

He hums, pretending to mull it over. He keeps one hand on the wheel while the other rests under his chin. “I suppose not.”

You sit a little straighter, basking in your small victory. He shakes his head, noticing. He has that look in his eyes, the one that took you a while to decipher but one you figured out anyway. He did it every time you acted a little too dramatic or did one of your quirks.

At first you didn’t know what to make of it but now you know it means one word and only one word: Cute.

It isn’t until then that you notice the song playing and gasp. “I love this song!” You say excitedly.

Jason glances between you and the radio before turning it up.

“Sulfur on your breath. Granite in my chest. You will never have to talk about it. You never want to talk about it.”

Warmth pools in your chest at the action. Happily, you hum along to the song and begin to dance slightly. You catch Jason stealing glances through the corner of your eye.

“I was more than just a body in your passenger seat. You were more that just somebody I was destined to meet. I see you go half blind when you're looking at me. But I am.”

Without warning, Jason puts the windows down, allowing the summer night air to fly through the car. You laugh, looking at Jason. He wears a large troublemaking grin, his black hair flying in the wind. Your breath is stolen from your lungs just looking at him. For the first time since you’ve met him, he looks like any other twenty year old you’ve met; carefree and full of life.

“When you sit there, acting like you know me, acting like you only brought me in to get below me. Never mind the death threats. Parting at the door. We'd rather be six feet under than be lonely.”

You watch the houses pass by and think about how many people you’ve just woken up when it hits you. You’re going back home, part of you never wants this to end.

The realization is a bitter one: you don’t want to go home.

You want to stay here at this moment screaming to this song with Jason. Both of you head banging and laughing at one another while screaming the lyrics like you’re the only two people to exist in the whole world.

You wonder if you’ve ever felt this free before, when you watch Jason once more. He drums on the steering wheel, his voice deep and hypnotic, your heart twists. You wish you could hold his hand.

Before you know it, the song ends and the two of you pull up to your house. He turns the radio down and turns to you, hair still a mess. You smile fondly.

“Tonight was fun,” he says, carding fingers through his hair.

“It was.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and pull your arms over your head. “Not to quote Roy, but he’s right. We should do this again.” You hide the disappointment of the night ending tucked away. You open the car door just as Jason does.

He rounds the front of the car and hugs you. You return the hug, it’s comforting. You feel safe, always feel safe whenever Jason hugs you.

The two of you pull away as you nudge him playfully. “Let me know when you get home. Okay?” It contains the words you want to say but aren’t ready to. I love you, be safe.

Jason ruffles your hair. “I will relax.”

Satisfied with his answer you walk up your front steps and put your key into the lock. Before you get inside he calls after you.

“Hey!” His eyebrows pinch together. He goes to speak before hesitating. He finally settles on two words.

“Sleep well.”

I love you too.

[tyrantisterror]

what do you like about vampires that appeals to you?

Man, it's hard to articulate my answer to this. There's just so much to like!

Vampires have this quintessential Gothic Horror spookiness to them - all those motifs of decay and things that were lost or forgotten rising from the grave to remind us of their terrible presence, lingering well past the point where they should have left. Their almost the personification of that genre in my mind, really - sentimental and melodramatic, tragic and camp and terrifying and alluring.

They're creatures who straddle two different worlds and belong to neither - between life and death, human and maneater, person and monster. They have to pretend to be what they once were to continue their current and often miserable existence as something quite different.

I like them best when their nature as shapeshifters is highlighted - Stoker went off when he gave them, like, fifty fucking different forms. Particles dancing in moonlight, creeping green fog, bats, wolves, swarms of rats, all excellent, allowing vampires to be truly versatile threats despite their many weaknesses, and playing with the idea of them as ambush predators. Always hiding behind a new mask, waiting for you to get close so they can strike.

They have the guile to look human until they're ready to sink their teeth into you, and that's terrifying.

But there's also a pathos inherent to them, a tragedy. Whether they know it or not, vampires are, for all their power, pathetic. They can never be what they once were, their humanity stolen from them. Many of them are reduced to acting as parasites, hiding on the fringes as they struggle to maintain their existence in a world that (often rightly) hates them for it. Many are cursed with the memory of what it was to be human, which makes the inescapable nature of their current cursed half-life all the more tragic.

And all of that is really juicy from a writing/drawing perspective... but, more importantly given the discussion that prompted this ask, it's really fucking hot.

They're basically orchid mantises, after all - predators in an alluring shape by design, meant to lure you close so they can fucking get you. Vampires have been sexualized so heavily in fiction in part because that works with their monster concept - they are predators who wear human faces to catch their prey (which is probably why they're so often put up against their sibling monster archetype, werewolves, who are their opposite - predators that strip themselves of human skin to hunt), so it only makes sense for that face to be hot. And there's something enticing about being lured into something pleasingly dangerous - erotically life-threatening.

I mean, so long as it stays strictly fantasy, of course. Which, vampires being not real, it kind of has to.

It also helps that a lot of vampires - not all or even most, but a lot - seem to have so much fucking fun being vampires. I think the appeal of rooting for monster characters lies in feeling monstrous yourself, and in that case there is something so appealing about the vampire's transgressive existence - that yes, they are predators of humans and enemies of the species they once belonged to, but that's a problem for the normies, not the vampire.

They're lonely and wicked and tragic and maniacal, and they want to hold you down firmly but perhaps a bit gently as they tenderly move your head to one side and lean in for a deadly kiss that is almost always portrayed as more sexual than painful despite its lethal consequences... like, it's perilous, yes, but it's romantically perilous, right? Especially since they often seem very keen to let you join them, to share eternal cursed life as part of their deadly embrace... it's a dark, fucked up sort of fantasy, but it's one that can seem really appealing if you have the right things wrong with you.

Also, fangs, goth wardrobe, red or yellow eyes with slit nocturnal pupils, nosferatu claws... like I'm not going to justify it those things are just hot to me.

[gamerwoo]

hansol/mingyu: the lovers playlist

characters: mingyu x female reader (mentions of hansol x female reader)

genre/warnings: idol au, friends to ????, one-sided pining, angst

word count: 1,034

summary: she has no idea that i’m even here

a/n: things in bold italics are song lyrics

previous song | next song | back to playlist

Mingyu watched you watch Hansol, a sad and longing look on your face as you stood among 4 other members of your group. You were too busy being stuck on Hansol since it was the first time you’d seen him since him and Ivory went public, so you didn’t feel the weight of Mingyu’s stare.

Hybe was doing some field day thing where all the groups in teams of 5 would compete against each other, and it was all being filmed. It just so happened that both you and Hansol volunteered to be there -- well, more like your group volunteered you without thinking Hansol could show up.

But the truth is; She has no idea that I’m even here; She has no idea that I’m even here.

Mingyu stood under their tent while Hansol played music on his small bluetooth speaker that he brought just to pass the time between filming. Minghao was sitting at the table with Hansol, watching Mingyu watch you watch Hansol. Meanwhile, Seungcheol and Soonyoung were stretching since they were taking this competition very seriously.

Ever since the last time he saw you a couple week ago, Mingyu wouldn’t leave you alone. He’d texted you once a day since, and you never replied. You kept trying to tell him that you were going to be fine and it would be better if the two of you weren’t friends, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. You appreciated what he’d done for you, and you knew he said he would let you heal however you wanted, but you also knew it was probably for the best that you cut every aspect of Hansol out of your life -- including his members.

Mingyu, however, was persistent.

Which was why he was standing in front of you now, suddenly blocking your view.

Get a grip, slip and trip over clumsy careless words, words words.

Mingyu could still hear the music -- albeit quietly -- from all the way over where the other 4 Seventeen boys were preparing for the first round of games.

You’d already filmed the intro, putting on your best unbothered face and acting completely normal between stolen glances. You weren’t surprised that Hansol couldn’t go fifteen minutes without listening to music.

“You okay?” he asked sincerely, head tilting slightly to one side like a puppy.

“Mingyu...” you sighed, closing your eyes like you were getting a headache.

“Hi, Mingyu!” Haeun chirped from the grass where she was doing leg stretches. “Good to see you again!”

He offered her a polite smile and a hello before he focused on you again, ignoring Soey, Mars, and Mori as they whispered together at the table. Their side-eyed glances told him that they were definitely talking about him -- or both of you. Whether it was good or bad, he didn’t know nor care.

Now there’s so much of me telling me not to leave every time I see your face.

You had looked at Haeun to glare at her for talking to Mingyu, and when you looked back to meet his eyes, he felt his heart flutter. Even though you looked annoyed at him for coming to talk to you, he couldn’t help but feel butterflies. Not seeing you for two and a half weeks was far too long for him.

Because every time you come around; Love, you take my breath away.

“We had this discussion, Mingyu,” you reminded him firmly, though your voice was quiet.

He recalled. After you brought him to the door, you told him you shouldn’t hang out anymore, and then you closed the door. He texted you when he got home anyway, and continued to do so every single day afterwards in hopes of breaking your walls down. He knew you were just trying to push him away because it hurt being reminded of Hansol, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him.

‘Don’t be in love with him,’ he kept wanting to tell you, holding onto your shoulders to make you look into his eyes, ‘I’m right here and I love you!’

She’s so close when I’m so far away, when I’m so far away; Let me dream, let me stay.

But he never did that, and he was sure he never would.

“I took that as more of a suggestion,” he grinned cheekily, and you knew he was just trying to make you laugh.

Unfortunately, his stupid lopsided smile made you let out a small chuckle, which only made his smile brighter.

“Mingyu--”

“We were friends when you would hang out with Hansol,” he interrupted before you could tell him the same bullshit about being friends, just worded differently, probably. “Just because he hurt you doesn’t mean I did, too. I still want to be your friend, _____.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “You were fun. And as your friend, it makes me sad to see you so sad over him.”

You sighed again, “Mingyu, we--”

“Let’s hang out once,” he stated. “Just give me one try to make you feel a little better. If you hate it, I’ll leave you alone forever if you really want me to.”

She’s so close when I’m so far away, when I’m so far away; I can sleep, I can dream, I can change.

You studied him, trying to weigh the options. As much as you didn’t want any part of Hansol seeping into your life, you were pretty sure Mingyu would harass you to no end if you didn’t accept his stupid deal.

But before you could open your mouth, the producers called for filming to start again, and for everyone to go back to their places.

“I’ll text you,” he promised with another smile, his eyes lingering for a second longer before he turned and jogged back to his group.

She has no idea-dea-dea.

The music got louder as he got closer. His group was beginning to stand so they could gather at the edge of their tent.

She has no idea-dea-dea.

Hansol was reaching to turn off the speaker as Mingyu took his spot between Soonyoung and Minghao, his eyes finding you again.

She has no idea-dea-dea.

But your eyes, once again, found Hansol.

── « ⋅ʚ ♫ ɞ⋅ » ───

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[dkniade]

Fontaine AQ Act II Part iii. Neuvillette’s monologue towards Navia at Callas’ grave. 4.2 spoilers

Hm. I think, in subtle ways, Focalors’ plan and Furina’s act has been foreshadowed since act one. (E.g. Lyney’s performance, Lynette disguising herself as Lyney while Lyney investigates the Oratrice, that guy crushed by the box is like Focalors’ execution, Furina’s monologue after Tartaglia’s guilty verdict, etc)

There was once a time when I didn't want to believe that there could be anything more important to humans than life itself. No, rather than that, it's probably more truthful to say I didn't believe humans were capable of resisting the most basic instinct of living things. That they could rebel against their own nature, or consider certain things to be more important than their own lives. Which is also why I didn't stop your father from beginning that fateful duel...

I believed that a truly innocent man would never throw away his life like that. That there was nothing... should have been nothing more important than one's own continued survival. But Mr. Callas proved me utterly and decisively wrong. If not for his sacrifice, the serial disappearances case would have remained unsolved to this day. Mr. Callas made the choice he did for his daughter, for his associates, and for many people completely unrelated to him... And in the end, from a certain perspective, one could say that he did it all for the sake of justice. A justice that is higher than... life itself.

So, you asked me why I came here. I just wanted to say my apologies to Mr. Callas in person... I should have noticed all of this much sooner. This regret has filled me with a sadness that has haunted me for days.

So here, this again foreshadows Focalors’ sacrifice. If Neuvillette didn’t think humans could “consider certain things to be more important than their own lives” then I suppose he certainly wouldn’t think an Archon (that is, Focalors) that wields power stolen from him would consider sacrificing herself to return his power back to him…

[synth-spinner]

@milimeters-morales GWAHHH THANK U THANK U FOR ASKING!!! ITS A JOY TO THINK ABT THIS💥 AND I HAVE SO MACH TO SAY BUT BASICALLY !!! Superior visits earth 1048 sometimes using the dimension hopper device thing <3 AND HIM AND PS4 PETER HAVE GOT A FATHER SON RELATIONSHIP GOIN AWN PLUS THEY HELP EACH OTHER HEAL AND GROW !!!!! superior also would have some freakang awesome interactions with certain other characters in e1048 too :3 I'm just gonna explain the set up then I'll just say a few things :3 other ideas I can say in the future !! When I develop them more<3

Superior and ps4 meet during the spidergeddon event :3 and ofc when ps4 first learns that superior is otto who's stolen his peters body it brings up a whole load of trauma </3 he even says like I know what you've done to your peter.. you're worse than my otto ever was :( and I was like GWAGHH...<-had been thinking abt them meeting before I found out they DID actually meet in the comics

Anyway there r definitely some ISSUES ! Superior has also worked quite hard to protect the spiders so far and he is trying to be a better person so hearing ps4 spidey, a peter parker, say that to him probably hurt a bit :( cuz like he KNOWWSS‼️‼️ it's just a reminder that his existence contradicts the person he wants to be and .. grughh..

BUT!!! After peter sees superior try so so hard to save them and be a good person (keyword try, he can be pretty morally dubious at times) he's like hey.. you're actually trying to be a hero, you're not that bad... and starts trusting him a lil more.. <3 and then there's THIS freaking thang

AND BWAAHHHH THEY CARE !! THEY THE ONLY ONES WHO GET IT FRR THEY CAN HELP EACH OTHER !!!! WAAHH,, its helping ps4 to see an otto octavius who HAS gone down a path of villainy like his otto actually come back from that and start trying to be a good guy again,, even going so far as to say superior reminds him of his otto .. which is like.. bwuh.. means superior is at least decently niceys to remind peter of his old mentor/father figure,,, And of course its helping superior to know that a peter parker believes in him and his efforts to be a hero <33 despite his existence being a product of a horrible act.. <33

In my mind I'm a little sillay <3 superior here isn't from the main timeline (actually canon) so I just stay silly with it and say that he does the whole spidergeddon thing then returns to his timeline without much time passing and continues to save the day in his own universe👍 so no consequences there </3 however since he's had more experience and tech (and some advice from ps4 peter :3) he's able to resolve the goblin nation thing without sacrificing himself and well yeah that's a lil selfish but let's ALSO just say superior's peter parkers consciousness does not reform from his memories so there's nobody to give the body back to </3

Anyway now superior has a life in his own universe with Anna maria and also he's a teacher at Horizon/ Horizon Uni ^_^ the whole teacher thing was an idea from my big brain superior spidey mutual @ztu2455 who has such awesome ideas <3 Tu if u see this I BEG of u to share and post ur ideas so I can rb :3 they r so awesome‼️<3333

Anyway he's doin pretty good all things considered :3 this is the part where I just get silly with it. He still has a dimension hopper thingamajig from spidergeddon and uses it to visit e-1048 every now and then :3 !! 💕 which slowly becomes a regular thing and he learns more abt peters world and meets miles and ganke anddd sometimes he brings Anna maria along maybe :3 FOUND FAMYY NOWWW!!! He has some CHOICE words for jjj (like in the games where people would call in to his podcast to be like UHMM ACTUALLY HE SAVED US !!!") yeah he would defend the 1048 spideys with his life <3

Miles would definitely be pretty wary of him at first but he trusts peters judgement and gets to know superior and maaan superior cares so much abt him hes gonna be one of those really mother hen uncle figures and give miles soo much advice on how to fight and stay safe and strategise and <3333 he would make GADGETS for them too I bet <3

And and he would looove ganke because.. he gets it.. a young genius surrounded by super people but he himself doesn't have powers.. something something metaphor .. but he's so loved and supported and appreciated by everyone in his life... superior would be OVERJOYED to see that ‼️ He would give Ganke some guidance for his tech and coding stuff (tho he doesn't need that much and learns pretty quickly) and he'd praise ganke and the spiders soo much cuz he wants to be the father figure he never had.. especially to all these people who believe in him and appreciate him for who he is ... grughaghhhh..

Anyway can you tell I'm normal abt these spiders <3

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

I agree with your anon, yeah I'm sorry jk's stalked (I'd still like to remind everyone how fans were applauding him for being a rebel for doing lives however and whenever he wanted but now no one likes to mention that) but look how he speaks out once it bothers HIM. It's so funny how similar his tone was to when th b*tched on weverse when it was smth he wanted to speak out on yet both never cared for the harm their shippers cause and lets not fool ourselves they're well aware of it all. I also agree to an extend when pjms say jm had serious criminal violation of privacy involving his documents and active death threats and he never made a victim of himself and none of those things can be said to have been fueled by his own actions either.

I personally think lives from his house are okay and shouldn't pose any danger. It all started when BTS went into hiatus and I'm sure all angles were considered, both from the company and the members themselves (about doing lives from their homes).

However, I've always said that his words and behavior was dangerous. Falling asleep on camera, the continuous and excessive flirting, help me wash up, do you want me to pick you up from work, yes this is a date, we're on a date. It's all stuff he says to the fans from inside of his house. It gives people the wrong idea. He's made himself seem available to the fans. I've always said that I don't think it's appropriate of him to make such comments.

I'm not justifying stalkers, and I've said that BTS members do put boundaries but fans usually don't care anyways and they cross those lines. People will always cross the line somehow. But I do believe Jungkook could've avoided this. Of course, he probably didn't think it was possible for something like this to happen.

Everyone knows where all the members live, yet Jungkook seems to be the only one who goes through stalking and/or invasion of privacy like this. It has happened twice already in two months? I'm sure the other members also get followed around and stalked, maybe to a lesser degree, but only going from what we know, there's a pattern.

I couldn't help thinking too that there's an element of image in rejecting the fans food. Aside from the obvious danger in eating something a stranger left at your door, it would reflect really bad on him to accept people buying food for him. Fansites used to send expensive and copious amounts of gifts to BTS until 2017. After DNA, BTS said they would no longer accept material presents from fans, only letters were allowed. I couldn't help but to think about that, too. A multimillionaire accepting food from fans. He just can't, from several moral standpoints.

There is no excuse for what happened to Jimin with his insurance issue. And yes, it was criminal. As weird as sending food or gifts to someone who didn't ask for them can be, it's not a criminal act. But having your house documents and personal ID numbers stolen and leaked, it is a criminal act. Not to mention it was apparently Jungkook stans / taekookers who leaked it. Any other company would've already had something resolved on the case but instead hybe just said "oops, my bad" and moved on. I don't think there's anything Jimin could've said anyways because the damage was already done, the information was out there already, and he isn't really one to go out and talk about his personal life like that. Even more considering that it wasn't even his fault, since the company was in charge of his medical insurance.

[rhineposting]

What do you think about Eda and her sudden transformation into a mom for everyone?

While I wouldn't say she became a mother for Everyone, I still have some thoughts to share regarding that evolution! More below the cut, as always!

Contrary to the claim presented above by anon, it wasn't that sudden. Of course, in the first episodes she called the ten year old living in her house a roommate and initially wanted the 14 year old from another dimension to be her helper, nothing about her was remotely motherly, but the viewer can clearly see the slow progression. As she got to know Luz more and more, we can see how the girl altered her views on many things by simply being around - thus forcing Eda to reconsider both Luz and herself more and more. In the Intruder as well as "Hooty's Moving Hassle" we see her realizing Luz' potential, alongside potentially seeing her younger self in Luz. After all, projecting isn't always a bad thing, though most of the time it does lead to severe misunderstandings. In Eda's case though, that just helped her realize what Luz needed as a fellow weirdo in order to thrive - since Eda probably didn't have that kind of guidance back in the day. I personally think that's where their bond truly began to evolve. From then on, we see that she does her best to give Luz the opportunities she deserves to thrive. However by that point, she still doesn't consider herself a maternal figure to both King and Luz. However, we do see in "Lost in Language" that she actually does have a deeply repressed need to perform the role of a caretaker - despite initially despising the idea of caring for the Bat Babies, when the time came to get them under control, she knew exactly what to do and was visibly happy with both the process and in the results - cuddling three infants without a care in the world, and then being even more visibly distraught then dissappointed when they disappeared. (Also let's not forget how she had a book with stories for kids at the ready at her house.) That goes to show that those feelings didn't appear out of nowhere. They were always there - repressed after years of being forced to be alone due to the curse and being chased by the law. After losing Lilith to the Emperor's Coven, hurting her father because of the curse, as well as breaking up with Raine as she was too scared to open up to them, it all lead to a wall forming around her - protecting her from making yet another attachement. One that Luz' presence broke through, per Eda's own words : "Dang it kid, your nonsense has gotten into my head." Eda got to know Luz, and in turn herself - realizing that being someone's caretaker and protector is what truly makes her happy and fulfilled, and that by living alone and for no one she was just wasting her life : which finally culminated in Agony of a Witch. Not only do we see Eda willing to sacrifice herself for Luz, in the next episode she says herself that she doesn't regret anything because she got to meet her. In season 2, now that she's happier with herself as a person, she only continued to act upon that deeply internalized need. Because that's good writing. You can't just add an important trait onto a character and then remove it with the next season. And, as it happens with love, it's contagious. It was only a matter of time before she assumed the maternal/caretaker role with "everyone" as anon put it, which...As far as I remember still only includes Luz, King and then the BATTs and partially Hunter, but he didn't stick around long enough to truly feel that love. He doesn't count. In "Them's the Breaks, Kid" as well as "Something Ventured, Someone Framed" it's also revealed that she felt responsible for Lilith and her well-being, going as far as to causing a scene to get her stolen lunch money back, or signing herself up for extra activities to escape expulsion, in order to stay with her. TL;DR No, her being a maternal figure wasn't sudden. Her actively enjoying taking the role of a caretaker was consistently and slowly built up over the course of the show, not a sudden retcon for the sake of feels. Hope that answers your question sufficiently!!

[reader-has-entered-the-chat]

When I see the orb of violet light in front of me, I immediately recognize it. It might’ve been millennia since I last saw it, but how could I forget the gods who cursed me to remain undying?

I hesitate. Should I approach it? Should I ignore it?

I sigh and lift my hand, lightly touching it.

The instant I do so, a loud voice booms.

“So we meet again, Woe.”

“Yeah. Been a while, Zeus. How’ya doing?”

“Your crimes,” the voice continues, ignoring me, “have been sufficiently punished. You may regain mortality should you desire to do so.”

Suddenly, I find myself shaking. Anger? Joy?

“Excuse me? What the fuck?”

“You heard me, Woe.”

“Stop- stop calling me that. ‘Woe’ was never my name.”

I swear I hear the voice laughing, but I might’ve just imagined it.

“Then what is your name?”

My fists tremble in anger. How dare he do this? Those gods can go fuck themselves.

“You stole it from me. You know that. You stole my name. You stole my life.”

“Do you want it back? I will return to you both your name and your humanity. All you have to say is ‘yes’.”

I scoff. What is he expecting? That I’ll just go with it, acting like a little puppet?

“No.”

“What?”

“You heard me. No. I don’t want my mortality back.”

He’s not laughing anymore.

“What? Do you not understand this gif-…”

“Shut up. I like my life. Did you know that I became an actual doctor, years ago? Me, of all people? And, you know what, I’ve probably saved more people than I killed. I can go anywhere. Illness has no grasp on me. No virus can kill me. They call me the Doctor of Lost Causes. They worship me, those humans, while you and the others are all but forgotten. You’re the stuff of myths. Nobody believes in you anymore. Is that why you want to make me mortal again? Because you’re jealous?”

“As if I’d ever be jealous of a mortal.”

Zeus may act as if what I say is false, but I know that he’s shaken. His voice trembles, and Gods, that is satisfying.

“Not so mortal, am I? I’ve grown. And it seems like you haven’t. You know that your power’s nearly gone, with no one to worship you. Things are changing. The Old Gods are nearly dead, and your turn is coming. If it is not in a hundred, then it’ll be in a thousand years. And I’ll still be there, because humans believe in me. Worship me. I heard that there’s a temple for me in Utah. The first. Not the last. I’ll make sure of that.”

“You’re power hungry. You want to become a god.”

I laugh.

“Who wouldn��t? You thought you’d punish me, making me witness the fall of the Empire I’d built, reaching all across what’s now Europe and Asia? You think I’d wallow in self pity, seeing the few I cared about die? Did you truly believe that the Empress of Dawn wouldn’t take this as an opportunity to become greater than she ever was? Tu es naïf, Zeus. Now I scare you, and you can’t let that pass. Well, too bad for you, but there’s no way that I’ll ever give this up. Not when I’m so close to my goal.”

“Which is?”

I smile. “To destroy you and all of the other gods. Re, Odin, Anu, Izanagi, Izanami, you and all of the others, you’re going to die. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll be the last one standing. I may not remember my name, but I remember who I was. I was a killer. I was a warrior. I was an Empress. And I’ll soon be a god. So go, now, and enjoy what little time you’ve got left.”

I remove my hand from the orb, ending the conversation. A smile creeps up my lips. Humans trust me now. They forgot who I was, because their ancestors would’ve imprisoned me for eternity. It’s a good thing that humanity has a short memory. Because I will rule this world, and take everything back that was stolen from me.

Get ready for chaos.

You were given immortality to atone for your horrific crimes against humanity. You wander the earth for millennium. Finally, you are given the option to revoke your immortality and end your suffering. You deny it.

[casspurrjoybell-25]

Cold as Ice - Chapter 45 - Part 2

*Warning - Adult Content*

Wren Ridley

Landon hadn't told me much about his upbringing but it didn't take a genius to figure out that it wasn't good.

I had already decided that Landon's father was an evil man and should be punished eternally in hell for whatever he did to him.

"He's good at faking," Landon said.

"He can keep up appearances but at home, it was a different story. He made me work so hard because he had a dream for me. He wanted to live vicariously through me, so I had to be exactly as he wanted. His perfect Christian son."

"So, what is it, he couldn't achieve what he wanted with his life, so he had you to do it for him?" I asked.

It seemed like a case of a father whose dreams were shattered so he expected his son to realize them for him, even if they didn't share the same dream.

It was like he viewed Landon as an extension of him rather than as his own person.

"Pretty much," Landon responded.

"I had to play hockey. It was never my choice. Olivia has to figure skate because that's what our parents did. We were basically born just to be younger versions of them, to live so that they could relive their glory days."

It made me angry on behalf of him to hear him say that.

It was like so much of his youth was stolen from him because his father wanted him to be his puppet instead of his child.

"My dad controlled everything," Landon continued.

"He obsessively controlled my diet. He barely let me hang out with my friends. He made me work out so hard that I threw up. My mom controls Olivia like that. In a different way but still."

"Then why would you want to face him on your own?"

"Because I'm... I'm embarrassed, Wren," Landon admitted, tightening his hold on me.

"My father wants me dead or he wishes I was never born. I have no idea what he would say or do if we saw him but I do know that I don't want you to see that."

I physically recoiled at the thought of Landon's father wanting him dead because now I was at the point where I couldn't imagine a world without him.

"He said that?" I asked.

"Apparently," Landon said, a humorless chuckle falling from his lips.

"I ran into one of my old teammates while we were skating and he told me that my father tells people that I'm dead. It kind of checks out since he wishes that was true."

That was probably why he had been acting weird.

He had been dealing with that on his own.

Seeing an old teammate, getting told his own father wants him dead, it had to take a toll on him.

"My father hates me because I'm not exactly as he wanted me to be," Landon continued.

"He basically forced me to come out to him. He already knew I was gay, he knew it for a long time, but eventually he just made me say it to his face, so I did. And then he stood up at church and told everyone that he needed help for his gay son because he didn't know what to do anymore. He didn't care that everyone I went to school with was there and he didn't care about what being outed could do to me. He wanted me to be hurt, to be forced into being straight. So he was going to send me off to conversion therapy with Elijah and his stepdad. I think he knew it wouldn't do anything. He just wanted to get rid of me."

I started to feel sick at the thought of Landon being treated that way, the thought of him being scared of what would happen to him, of him being sad and alone and humiliated.

I wished I could go back in time and protect him from that, to go back and pull him out of that church, to hold him close to me and bring him home.

If only things could have been different, if I could have met him sooner.

"Your father is a cold hearted man who doesn't even deserve to breathe the same air as you," I told him in a low voice.

"If he sees you at Olivia's competition, he should know to keep walking because he doesn't deserve to even speak to you."

The two of us had accepted that if we went to this competition, we would see this man.

It was just how the universe worked.

The one person you didn't want to see would always show up.

"I still hear his voice sometimes in my head," Landon admitted after a few moments, his hand stroking my side lightly.

"Therapy has helped a lot with that but sometimes I can't block him out. I hear him calling me disgusting and worthless. Sometimes I believe him."

I grabbed onto Landon's hand and squeezed it tightly in my own as if I could take all his pain away through touch alone.

"You are neither of those things, darling," I murmured, kissing his collarbone then up to his neck and jaw.

"You are so wonderful it's nauseating but not at all disgusting."

Landon gave me a real laugh at that and I smiled against his skin.

"You should have told me about the old teammate when it happened," I told him, making circles on his chest with my finger.

"I didn't want to ruin our date," he said.

"I was trying to keep my cool about it and I didn't want you doing anything insane."

"Insane like what?"

"Like letting a bunch of bugs loose in his house or something."

"Well, I wouldn't reuse my ideas like that," I said, which caused him to let out an adorable snort.

"I would have had to figure something else out."

"Something even more insane?" he asked.

"It would depend on what he did," I replied.

Landon shook his head at me.

"You're crazy."

"Yes, yes I know," I said.

"You've used that one before. Same with infuriating."

"I don't have as big of a vocabulary as you do."

I chuckled at that and closed my eyes, cosying up against him.

My rest didn't last long because Landon eventually had to go change the laundry over and when he got up, I no longer wanted to lie down.

I grabbed my book that was laying on the nightstand and opened up the page the bookmark Landon had gotten for me was holding.

Usually, I would just remember the page I was on without a problem but I liked that this came from him.

I liked how thoughtful it was and how it would always remind me of him whenever I saw it.

Landon came back to the room after switching over the laundry and got back into bed with me, leaning his head on my shoulder as I read as if he was reading the words with me.

I knew that he wasn't but it still felt like we were doing this together.

After all that he said today, I somehow felt closer to him, like I could understand him better than before but I always felt that I was understanding him more and more all the time.

It was like any time he spoke I felt even closer to him.

I tried not to let that scare me but it did anyway.

[luky-soul]

BAHH PINNED POST JUMPSCARE!!

so straight to the point, this blog is just gonna be me talking about the story things i write/my oc's because i wanna scream about the weird gay people i made

the profile pic is of one of the main characters from "king of diamonds" but this isn't gonna be a strictly kod blog

(on the topic of the pfp, i didn't draw it, i commissioned gummy on etsy)

anyway, here's all the stories and a little description :3

King of Diamonds: in the far far future, so far in fact our continents reformed into pangea ultima, the unchecked acts of the government continue to make life worse and worse for the people, from shrinking the final remaining residential district JUNKS even more, to bio engineering beasts named "Carbonites" that feed off humans so they can sell weapons just for Carbonite removal, life is very grim. however, a group known as "Förgätmigej" aims to rectify this and "remind" everyone of better times

Divine Decay: world renowned, yet forgotten, scientist Zagreus Sunday invented something known as a "WATCH" back in 2006, and thanks to the WATCH humanity has withered away in it's immortality, his goal? maybe to repent, maybe to die for one final time, maybe he can't even remember anymore

Rotten Autumn Leaves: Autumn is a strange girl, a girl who's dealt with relentless bullying nearly her entire life, with her only saving grace being her friend Dís. until Dís moved away that is. since then, Autumn never functioned, choosing to rot away in bed and let mold take her instead of moving on. but amidst her jealousy of her friends happy life, one day, she awoke in the past? an alternate reality? the after life?

Flowers in Hell: in the city of Hysteria, any and all scientific or technological advancement was stolen from the nearly immortal Cronqvist family. known for devouring people countless years ago, now they remain chained away in the basement of the biggest building in Hysteria for whenever their knowledge is next needed. but one day, paired alongside the murder of the mayor, Alucard was broken free from his chains and kidnapped by a strange witch named Etro

so those are all the ones i plan to talk about :3

i'll probably add tags later to easily sort through them but for now with the whole lot of nothing on this blog i think it's fine to leave it as is lol

[luvyanfei]

anon said. ooo a new blog! can you do confession headcanons where xiao, childe, and scaramouche react to reader confessing to them and the aftermath of it? thank you!  

a/n. xiao’s is kind of terrible ;; ue ue gomenasai

“i love you, [character’s name].”

SCARAMOUCHE.

huh? is this some kind of a joke? if so, it’s definitely not a good idea to mess with his feelings like this, especially when he also shares the same sentiment. scaramouche is almost impressed by your boldness. not everyone has the nerve to confess their love for a harbinger in front of their own faces, after all. when he’s hit with the realization that you’re serious, he secretly pinches himself to make sure he’s not in a dream.

the sharp pain that comes with his nails making contact with his flesh affirms that this is real. he stifles back a genuine smile, choosing to stay calm despite the bliss he’s currently feeling. “i guess it can’t be helped. hmph, you should be lucky i’m rather fond of you as well, [name].” he says that, but he’s the fortunate one to have successfully stolen your heart before others can claim you for themselves.

unfortunately, his time with you is quite limited due to his affiliation with the fatui, so any fleeting moments are captured in photos from the kamera to look back on. he secretly carries a picture of you while he’s out of town on important missions so that he won’t miss you too badly. he fondly looks at your still, yet smiling face to cheer him up after a tough work while everyone else is asleep. well, almost everyone.  

“hmm, who’s that in your hands, scaramouche?” childe asks, gesturing to the photo the harbinger is admiring fondly. scaramouche rolls his eyes to hide his slight embarrassment and hesitates a bit before he answers.  

“oh them? their name is [name], my... sibling.” childe almost gapes in disbelief as he looks at the blue-haired man in shock. 

“you have a sibling? why didn’t you tell me? they’re so cute!” the 11th harbinger squeals in delight, which honestly irks poor scaramouche. he scoots away to give himself some space as he tucks the picture in his pocket for safe-keeping. 

“you didn’t bother to,” he explains matter-of-factly. “now if you’ll excuse me,” he stands up from his crouched position and dusts himself, “i’m going to take a walk, alone.” 

he wanders through a dark forest and grassy fields, until he finds himself standing on top of a cliff, the moon glowing brightly above. he peers up at the twinkling stars in the sky and imagines you beside him, watching the breathtaking view together. humming an unfamiliar tune to himself, scaramouche muses over the past and replays your confession over and over again. if he could, he would respond differently than he did before. 

‘i love you.’ those three letter words echo in his ears like a melody and he allows himself to smile. 

“i love you too, [name].” 

XIAO.

he automatically perks up an eyebrow in confusion. what? is it just him or did you seriously admitted you love him? xiao stammers for a brief second, no words spilling out from his partially open mouth. what is he supposed to say? “thank you?” “i love you too?” 

when he pulls himself together, xiao shakes his head and frowns. his answer is clear and simple: no. you mortals don’t understand just how dangerous it is to get close with someone like him - a yaksha. drowning in the brink of debt and despair, he doesn’t need you to suffer all the same. the dejected expression on your face pains him to a considerable degree, yet he convinces himself, this is for your own good. 

since then, he avoids you like the plague in hopes that your feelings for him will disperse into flames. you deserve someone better, someone who won’t place you in harm’s way, someone unlike him. out of kindness, you still visit him from time to time while you go and do your daily commissions, but your interaction is heavily tense and an air of discomfort seeps through your gaze. why does his chest hurt as if he was impaled with a knife and so much more when you look at him like that? the thought of breaking down and revealing the truth that he’s also in love with you tempts him eagerly, but his pride and anxiety tides over his desires. 

you, on the other hand, is aware that xiao harbors feelings for you. you discovered this secret of his when you climbed the stairs to the spot on the balcony where he was to surprise him with a greeting, but your ears captured a faint voice in the night breeze and you couldn’t stop yourself from eavesdropping on the little conversation xiao was having with himself. he muttered about “rex lapis”, the fate of liyue, and etc. you were about to leave him to his own devices, but the next words he said stopped you in your tracks. 

“will [name] accept me if i say i love them? probably not, i suppose.” you left before he could spare a glance in your direction and a smile graced your features as you happily walked away. and being the persistent individual that you are, you inquire verr on why he’s acting so cold towards you, desperate to seek the answer you need. “xiao is, as you’re well aware, a yaksha who’s experienced hardships throughout his life, and probably lost loved ones along the way. i’m sure,” she turns to look at the setting sun in melancholy, “he doesn’t want to hurt anyone important to him again.”

you plan ahead of time for the best way to approach him without giving him any chance to escape. unfortunately, this is the only thing you can think of as you place a hand on either side of his head, trapping him between you and the wall. xiao looks at you curiously, devoid of amusement. he crosses his arms and frowns. 

“what are you doing?” your hands twitch and you chew on your bottom lip nervously before you explain yourself.

“i heard from verr why you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder, that you don’t want to hurt anyone important to you, but...” you trail off to blink back the tears threatening to burst. 

“it hurts, when you ignore me like this.” your voice is quiet enough that he needs to step closer to hear you. “it hurts how selfless you are. can’t you be selfish just once? i meant what i said and i’ll say it again. i love you.” 

xiao stammers, at a loss for words, before he starts sniffling and buries himself in your arms, crying out apologies as you stroke the back of his hair and gives a closed-eye smile. “it’s okay, xiao. i’m sorry too, for not realizing how much you’ve been suffering by yourself. you don’t have to carry the burden alone anymore,” you say, looking into his tear-filled eyes, “i will always be here with you, no matter what path you choose to take.” 

“even if that path may eventually hurt you?” he whispers in a cracked voice, fingers curling around your sleeves. you nod. 

“it’s worth the pain as long as i can hold you in my arms, like this.” he chokes out a bitter chuckle and wipes away the glistening tears. 

“i love you too, [name].” 

CHILDE.

the harbinger blinks his cerulean eyes once, then twice, and... you find yourself pulled into his arms, as his lips uplift into a jovial smile. “really? you love me? [name], i had no idea you held such deep admiration for me.” you playfully roll your eyes and chuckle as you wrap your own arms around his body, fondly reciprocating his affection.

he’s the fastest to accept your confession than the other two men. you’d bet he would scamper to where he’s staying at to tell every grain of detail to his adoring relatives. 

he writes letters to his siblings about your daily dates and the progress you two are making in your relationship. they tease him for the most part, but they’re happy that he’s found the love of his life and requests that he bring you along with him on his next visit. childe smiles in relief, content that they accept you already despite never meeting you and he asks you if you’d like to come with him to his home country where you can introduce yourself to his family. without hesitation, you agree instantly, eager to meet the siblings he gushes about. 

snezhnaya is colder than you thought, as you hug yourself to preserve your warmth, even with the layers of clothing wrapped around you. “we’re almost there, [name].” childe notices your trembling and rubs his gloved hands against your back. “sorry, it’s a bit chilly here, but please bear with me.” 

you nod and continue on. when a building enters your field of sight, childe stops and grins shyly at you. “this is the place.” breath materializes in front of you as he gestures for you to head on in. almost immediately are you greeted with a little embrace as a young boy wraps his fingers around your waist and grins up at you. 

“so you’re the one who big brother said he’s in love with? have you kissed before? when is your wedding?” the child bombards you with questions excitedly and a girl has to pull him away from you, tonia, you guess. 

“teucer,” childe scolds gently, a light blush colouring his cheeks, which does not go unnoticed in his siblings’ eyes, unfortunately for him. 

a wedding, huh? seeing the sparkle in your eyes, the laughter in your voice, and the warmth of your touch as you idly chat with his siblings makes him hope, that maybe in the distant future, he’ll brave himself to take the next step to further deepen your relationship, for he wants to be with you always. 

as he tucks away the last sleeping child, childe wanders in to your shared bedroom, surprised you’re still awake. “you really love them a lot, huh childe?” he nods seriously, as you pull him to lie down comfortably into bed. 

“but do you know something else?” his breath tickles your ear as he intertwines his fingers with yours, offering a meek smile. you shake your head and nuzzle closer to him. 

“i love you too, [name].”