#man my hand hurts after coloring this but it was worth it

[fyodior]

FUCK YOU, FUCK ME!

pairing: toji fushiguro x gn!reader (no anatomy described)

cw: pegging toji !!!! reader uses a strap, toji is hesitant but goes along with it and ends up LOVING it. anal (m!receiving), missionary and doggy, minor orgasm control, etc. kind of glorified anal so keep that in mind. MINORS DONT INTERACT ILL BITE

notes: this is a sponsored fic for @ficsforgaza, and im so so excited to finally be posting it!! (other wips available for sponsor here) go check out some other great creators on the blog too!! and this is my first time back writing in a bit so pls be kind :") divider by @/cafekitsune!

wc: 2.8k

“Toji, sweetheart, you need to relax.”

“Fuck- I’m fuckin’ trying,” your lover grunts, wincing and sucking in a sharp breath. “I’m not fuckin’ used to things inside’a me like you are.” You choose to ignore that last quip. 

Only half a very well lubed finger deep into his tight ass, you figure this is going to be a long night, but you know it’ll be so, so, worth it - for both you and him. 

The day you first proposed trying anal to Toji, he was all for it - excited even. Until he found out that you meant he’d be the one receiving, and his face immediately fell. 

“No. Nope. Nothin’s goin’ up my shitter,” he had responded, making you roll your eyes and groan. You swore up and down that a prostate orgasm could be life changing for males, but he flat out refused for months. It wasn’t until your birthday when you promised him he didn’t have to buy you a gift if he agreed to try anal just once - and then he was all for it. 

He was hesitant as the two of you scrolled through sex toy websites to search for the best possible strap and dildo for him. Pointing out ones you thought he might like only made his face contort in discomfort, haunted by the thought of something going inside his asshole. The list of “hard no’s” grew and grew the longer you searched: nothing longer than 6 inches, nothing girthier than a circumference of 5 inches, no skin colors because that felt too real, and no balls. Toji Fushiguro was a hard man to please. 

Finally, finally, after months of convincing, hours of online shopping, and a few more days following the arrival of the package, did you have your lover laid out in front of you, legs spread and hole awaiting. It was the sweetest fucking sight in the world, and you were so grateful you maintained enough patience to get to this moment. Good things really do come to those who wait.

The harness was already strapped around your waist, painfully eager to attach the dildo and get to it, but of course there was ample prep required, especially for someone completely new to anal. Per your request, he had showered prior to you getting home from work and had tried to clean himself out a little bit, which you were very grateful for. Now you were tasked with stretching and prepping his hole. Your mouth watered at the thought of it. 

Instructing him to lay on his back, for no other reason than you wanted to see his face, you press his thick, sinewy thighs apart and settle between them. You had done your best to create a gentle, relaxing environment in your shared bedroom, with the lights dimmed low, a few candles flickering on the shelf, and soft music playing from the TV. Yet still, the man was as tense as a clenched fist. 

The goal was to get him a little worked up and wanting it, so you start with a little foreplay. Kissing him softly, you jerk him off slowly, getting him hard enough that he wants to cum. His hard cock lays neglected on his belly as he rests on his back, propped up against a horde of pillows, and you could honestly cum just at the sight of him. Toji is fucking beautiful.

But now it was finally time. After dousing your fingers in a thick, goopy layer of lube, you press the tip of your ring finger against his puckered hole, and he immediately flinches.

“Baby, I promise I won’t make this hurt, you have to breathe, though,” you plead, using your other hand to massage his thigh. “Here - take a deep breath with me.” 

Motioning for him to follow, you suck in air, watching him closely. After rolling his eyes and deciding he’ll finally play along, he mimics you. The second he releases the breath he was holding, his body deflating, you take the chance and slip in your finger down to just the first knuckle.

He immediately gasps, furrowing his brows and grunting. “Hey! You fuckin’ tricked me!” he accuses, indignant as a little kid. 

You chuckle in response. “It got it in, didn’t it?”

You stay like that for a bit, wriggling the tip of your finger purely just to start getting him used to the feeling of something inside him, watching his expressions closely.

“Does it feel good at all, babe?” 

It takes Toji a moment to respond, clearly chewing on the idea in his brain. “It… it’s weird,” he finally says, pursing his lips. “It just feels strange - not… bad, though. Yet.” 

“Good,” you nod. “Good. Just hang in there, and you’ll feel good soon, okay? Promise.”

He just grumbles before gripping his cock, fisting it a few times before you smack his hand away. 

“Hey!” he gasps, jaw wide open. “It’s my dick!”

“No. I said no touching yourself yet,” you bite back. When he looks like he’s about to pitch a fit, you decide to throw in a “please, baby? For me?” and he backs down. Toji is nothing if not a sucker for you.

After warning him, you push your finger in to the second knuckle. He sucks in a sharp breath, but makes no protest - a good sign. Soon, you have your whole finger inside him, and he’s panting a bit.

“See, baby? I knew you could take it,” you smile softly. 

“Whatever,” Toji grumbles, avoiding your gaze. He can deny it all he wants, but he can’t hide the fact that his dick twitched every time you pushed your finger in a little further. “Let’s hurry this up and get it over with.”

Your eyes go wide at that, but you nod. “Your wish is my command, sir,” you smirk.

And just like that, your whole pointer finger has bullied its way inside him. 

“Fuck!” Toji coughs, lurching forward. “You can’t do that!”

“Oh, but I can,” you grin impishly. “Just lay back and let me work you open, okay?”

Now that you have two fingers inside him, you can actually make some headway. Squirting some more lube around his entrance, you start to very slowly fuck him with your fingers, pumping them in and out at a snail’s pace. Toji stays silent, still refusing to meet your gaze, but his cheeks are cherry red and he’s gripping the sheets with a tight fist. 

The quiet music coming from the TV hums softly in the background, and you hope it’s relaxing him at least a little as you slowly spread your fingers apart, trying to scissor them open to loosen the muscles and stretch him out. Toji’s breath hitches when you spread them even past when his hole starts to resist, and you smirk. You guess he likes the feeling of being full just as much as you do. 

Time passes painfully slowly while you work him open with your fingers, aching to finally get inside him. To finally fuck Toji in the way he deserves. Finally, you feel like he’s prepped enough to adequately take the strap. It might hurt a tiny bit, but what’s the harm in that?

“Okay, sweetheart,” you start as you fit the jet black dildo into the O-ring connected to the strap. “You okay on your back like this, or do you wanna take it from the back?”

His face burns bright red at the thought of you fucking him in doggy, so he just shakes his head. “ ‘m fine like this,” he mumbles, and you nod.

Once again settling between his thighs, you wrap a hand around his cock and pump it lazily, offering him a small smile.

“You look so pretty laid out like this for me, legs spread and ass spread so wide, ready to take my cock,” you muse, mind in overdrive.

“S-st-stop,” Toji squeaks out, biting his fist. He won’t admit it, he can’t admit it, he’ll die before admitting how much that turns him on. He can’t admit how his ass has started to ache for something to fill it back up again, even though you’re more than willing to oblige. 

“Can’t, baby boy,” you frown, leaning in for a kiss. “Not when I finally have you like this.” 

The brief kisses seem to relax the tense man just a bit, melting against your lips and kissing back hungrily. You could’ve sworn you caught a just fuck me already under his breath, but he’ll refuse it until his deathbed. 

When you make eye contact with him and he nods, you press the well-lubed tip of the strap against his hole, watching with stars in your eyes as it resists, but still tries to spread open. A cough can be heard from near the headboard, but no protests so far. Soft whines fight to escape Toji’s throat as you push in each centimeter of the silicone cock, face burning hot and red. About halfway in, you pause, giving the man a moment to breathe and acclimatize to the intrusion inside him. He’s grateful for it too, huffing and groaning and squirming as he tries to find a more comfortable position, but there is none. Not when there’s something hard shoved up his ass. You just stay as patient as a saint, massaging his muscly thighs and running your hands up his torso, trying your best not to lean too far forward and inch any more of the cock inside him. As a treat, you give his throbbing, aching cock a few tugs with your spit coated palm, and he lets out a sigh. 

One more moment of eye contact, and more nod, and you push your hips a little farther forward. Suddenly, Toji lurches forward again.

“Gah!!” he cries out, eyes wide and heaving. “What- what was that? What did you do?” The accusatory questions only make you laugh, leaning in to kiss him sweetly. 

“Must be your sweet spot - your prostate,” you chuckle. “Here - let’s try again.” 

Pulling out a few inches and thrusting in again has Toji sputtering and groaning all over again. You can’t help but break out into a wild smirk. This is exactly what you wanted. Not only for yourself, as a perfect view to marvel at and take in, but for him - Toji deserves this, deserves to feel good. 

Leaning forward, hands braced on either side of his chest, you muster up all your strength and thrust hard. This time his head is falling back against the pillow as he cries out with a call of your name, too.

“It’s all the way inside, sweetheart,” you smile, marveling at how the silicone balls are pressed firm against his ass. “How do you feel?”

“G-good,” he nods, gulping. “Just- let’s just do this- please,” Toji chokes out.

This version of Toji, one so vulnerable and desperate, is one you’ve never seen before. Not even when he’s fucking you - he’ll get desperate to get his dick wet, sure, but this is… different. Sweeter. His dark, unruly hair is matted to his forehead with sweat, and his chest is heaving in anticipation. You simply have no choice than to give him exactly what he wants.

Inching your strap out to where the tip is almost dangling out of his hole, you thrust all the way back in, relishing in the way he once again moans. His reaction is so much sweeter than you could’ve imagined, and you simply can’t help the way you go fucking crazy. Your thrusts pick up speed, anchoring yourself by gripping the sheets hard as you erratically fuck your lover’s ass. The both of you are complete messes, groaning and whining and gasping almost theatrically, chasing a beautiful high. 

“Harder,” Toji grunts, pulling you in by your cheeks for a messy kiss as his thick legs circle your waist. “Fuck! Fe-feels so fucking good, fuck, fuck fuck…” he blabbers, your face still in his tight grip. You couldn’t give less of a shit, just want to see him falling apart even more, so you give him exactly what he asks for.

Wet sounds of lube and skin on skin echo throughout the bedroom, mixed with the tunes of both your moaning and groaning. An ache is blossoming in your thigh muscles and you can feel yourself losing stamina but you refuse to give in just yet, using every ounce of your strength to piston your hips in and out of him. Toji can’t help but clench tight around your cock, you can feel it by the increased resistance, and you truly think you must have died and gone to heaven. 

“Toji, sweetheart,” you call, trying to grab the man’s attention. “Get on your hands and knees for me, okay?”

For the first time likely ever, the man does as he’s asked with no protest. He hisses a bit as you slip all the way out of his tight heat, but scrambles to flip over and present his ass for you. There’s no way this is your Toji, not when he’s acting like this - but you decide you’ll allow yourself to indulge in this doppelganger, just for tonight. 

Some adjustments to his stance are required, as he is taller than you, but you soon find a comfortable position so that your hips can be flush against his ass. His throbbing cock and balls hang heavy at this angle, dangling between his thighs, but he doesn’t seem to mind. At this angle, you have a much better view of his beautiful ass, using two hands to spread his cheeks apart and stare with a slack jaw at his abused hole, puffy and throbbing. It’s mind boggling that you were inside him. And will be again. With one languid thrust, you’re bottoming out again and pressing his face into the pillow, making him cry out. 

This angle, while depriving you of your lover’s beautiful face, is much easier for your task. Having his ass presented for you like this makes fucking him a breeze - so you take, and take, and take, and take. Pump in and out of his tight, wet hole, both of your bodies trembling as you’re overcome with so much emotion and overstimulation. You feel like a bitch in heat with the way you’re rutting into him, bottoming out with almost every thrust. 

“Fuck,” Toji spits. “I’m gonna fucking cum.” 

Your eyes go wide at the realization. He’s going to cum? Just from getting fucked? Holy shit.

“Yeah, baby? Wanna cum? Feels so good getting fucked, huh?” you tease, continuing to fuck him hard and deep. “Want me to help you out, or so how long it takes for you to cum just from getting your ass fucked? Hm?” Your own words are lost on you, seemingly coming from a place of pure lust and not from your rational mind.

“Please help,” Toji chokes out. And he’s been so good, not touching his cock this entire time, taking your cock so well, that you decide to do as he asks. 

Your pace slows down some as you wrap a hand around his aching, angry red cock, thumbing at the tip and using his tacky precum to lube up your hand some. It only takes one, two, three strokes before he’s gasping and spurting thick, hot ropes of cum onto the bed, whole body tensing as he cries out louder than you’ve ever heard before. He collapses onto the bed, and you take the message, pulling your strap out from his abused hole. No words come from his mouth, only heaves and gasps for air as he tries to come to terms with what just occurred. You don’t nag him at all, just flop down next to him and push his sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes.

“Did that feel good, baby? Hm?” you ask, smiling softly at him. That’s truly all you ever wanted. You truly couldn’t give much of a shit about your own desires and lust - all you ever, ever wanted in this world was for your lover to feel good. 

Toji gulps. “....Yeah. Felt real good.” It’s obvious he’s exhausted, only moments from passing out. You can’t blame him.

“Did so, so good for me, sweetheart,” you coo, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Now get some rest. It’s hard getting fucked, isn’t it?” That makes him chuckle weakly.

“Fuck you,” he rasps, but he has a lopsided smile on his face. “Love you. Really. Thank you.”

Your heart soars and you smile widely. “Of course, sweetheart. Always. I love you. Now please get some rest so we can go for a second round.”

[musickgeek]

Happy (SDV Sebastian x Farmer!Reader)

945 words, unedited

Warnings: None

The first time you'd met Sebastian was the first Friday after your arrival in Pelican Town. You saw him bent over the pool table, lining up his shot. Your face got hot, and butterflies flew in your stomach. He looked so at peace, in his element. The small smile on his lips, and comfortable stance he took up. You were wondering how to introduce yourself, but Sam, who you'd met earlier in the day, waved you over. Nervous, you tried to walk over as casually as possible, brushing dirt and dust off your clothes. "Hey (Y/n), these are my friends Abigail, and Sebastian." Sebastian makes a shot, knocking a few of his balls into the pockets. Sam frowns, but quickly refocuses on introductions. He bumps Sebastian's shoulder with his own, almost teasing. "Sebastian, this is the new farmer girl." 

The dark haired boy looked at you, curiosity in his eyes. "Oh. You just moved in, right?" You nodded. "Cool." He pauses for a moment, as if thinking about it. "Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?” You couldn't help the small laugh that came out. "I know it seems small and confining, but for me, some of the best memories of my life were made here with my grandfather." He nodded thoughtfully, accepting the answer. You found him to be so pretty, it almost embarrassed you. You'd just met the man for Yoba's sake! Oh well, you'd already decided you wanted to get to know him better.

~~~~~

You tried to speak to him every day, trying to figure out the things he liked. What do boys like him like? You came to an easy conclusion while in the mines. When you found a little piece of clear crystal. "You may think it's not much, but when in the right light," you moved it into the sun to show off how it glimmered, "it shows it's true worth." Just like him, you decided. And so your ventures into the mines became more frequent, finding colorful gems and crystals that Sebastian might like. 

You would walk in the house, scuffed up and dirty, but smiling widely. Robin would look at you strangely. You'd greet her cheerfully like you weren't bleeding and bruised before disappearing down the stairs to her sons room. She was confused for weeks until Sebastian asked her to build a shelf for him to display the fruits of your labor. 

~~~~~

"You know, I'm starting to think you're obsessed with me." He teased one Friday, you guys walking to the saloon together. "In your dreams!" It wasn't you fault, you thought. He was the one who plagued your mind with a late night motorcycle ride a few nights before. You found him working on his bike, and he suggested brining you along on time. You said you were scared, to which he promised to keep you safe. That moment played in your mind over and over like a broken record. You'd become a little clingier, and the fact that he'd noticed startled you. His phone chimed, luckily changing the subject. He frowned, and you asked what had happened.

"Sam isn't coming by tonight. He hurt himself on his skateboard earlier, and is stuck with Harvey tonight." Little did either of you know, it was a crafted lie designed by Sam and Abby to get you guys to hang out. "Do you know how to play pool?" 

"I get the idea, but I've never actually played. I don't know how to execute it, really." He gave his little smile that you adored. "Tonight is going to be interesting." He sped up, almost giddy at the idea of sharing his skills with you, leaving you to chase after him, laughing.

~~~~~

Your skin was on fire. His body had never been so close to yours. You could feel your face burning. You could feel his breath on your neck. His hand covered yours, his chest was pressed against your back. You could smell the woodsy scent of his room on him. To the other patrons, the act was innocent. He was just showing you how to line up a shot for pool. But to you, everything about this felt like carnal sin. You felt like you could pass out. The sound of the lively talk and music faded away, all you senses focused on him. Could he feel it too? You when for the shot, but were too distracted to make a hit. 

"You're even worse than Sam." He said, pulling away. "I'll just have to practice more." You insisted. "Oh, by the way, I found this for you." You pull the blue, teardrop shaped crystal out of your pocket. The shock on his face pleased you. He took it carefully, afraid of breaking it. "I really love this." 

"It's no big deal." You shrug. But he shakes his head, frowning deeply. "But it is, I know the lengths you have to go to for something like this, for any of the crystals you give me. You go down there all the time, risking your life just to give me some silly trinkets. I don't even understand why." Now you frown, feeling hurt. "I thought you liked them..." He realizes his mistake, and gets panicky. "No, I do, I really do! But...I like you more. Sometimes I wait at the rivers edge for you to come back. Just to know you're safe." 

You felt your heart pounding in your chest. What was he saying? "I...I can handle myself, Seb. I promise. I do it because it makes you happy." He looks down, and smiles. You so badly wanted to kiss him. "(Y/n), you make me happy." 

[cuubism]

a silly addendum to physical therapy au

--

"I do love you, but I admit I'm questioning your judgement in this moment," Dream says. "This wasn't what I was hoping for our evening."

Yeah, Hob may be a little bit impulsive when it comes to Dream. But he maintains that decking the guy who groped Dream in a crowded bar was, in fact, thought through. It was considered. Moreover, it was justified.

He kind of wishes it hadn't turned into an all-out brawl, but really that's the other guy's fault for not knowing when to back down. And even sitting gingerly on a bar stool with Dream holding towel-wrapped ice to his cheek, Hob can't bring himself to regret it. Dream might deny it until he dies, but Hob saw the glee that flashed across his face the moment Hob's fist connected with the man's nose.

"Whatever happened to not wanting to be violent in front of me?" Dream adds, raising an eyebrow.

"This is different," Hob says. "He was literally harassing you!"

"Hm." Dream presses the ice more firmly against his cheek. Hob winces. "It was very chivalrous, until you got your head smashed into a table. I believe your jaw may even be broken."

"Fuck," Hob swears, which only makes it hurt worse.

Dream's lips twitch up. "It was very chivalrous," he says. He pets Hob's un-bruised cheek. "I will think on it often when I am taking you to your doctor's appointments to fix it."

"Dream."

Dream kisses him on the side of his lip that's not split and bleeding. It still hurts a little, but Hob thinks it's worth it to mess up his jaw if Dream will tend to him like this and look at Hob like Hob is his hero.

He reconsiders that feeling later, when it turns out his jaw is actually broken, requires surgery, and a lot of rehab after that.

-

several weeks-to-months of jaw surgery recovery later, which we're skipping over as it was undoubtedly just completely shit

-

Hob is over the moon as they walk home from the clinic. There's really nothing like breaking your jaw to make you appreciate the little things. Like being able to open your mouth.

Dream, meanwhile, is trudging along beside him, holding Hob's hand but looking depressed about it.

"I'm the one who finally got wires out of my fucking jaw," Hob says, "why are you sulking about it?"

Dream continues pouting, but doesn't let go of Hob's hand. "They said you would still need to rest your jaw for a month."

"Yeah, so? At least I can eat food again. No offense but any more days of you diligently hand-feeding me broth was going to be the end of me." He pokes at his stomach, where there's substantially less flesh than before. "Besides, look at this."

Dream looks critically at his waistline. "Yes, your weight loss has been alarming to me. But I could not figure out any other ways to add calories to broth."

Hob wrinkles his nose at the reminder of Dream's attempts. "You did try."

"I tried," Dream sighs. "You still aren't allowed to eat normal food, though."

"They gave me back ice cream, I'll take the win."

Speaking of which, they should go get some food now. Hob thinks he might even be able to handle chips if he eats them slowly. Incredible.

"Hey," he adds, as they continue their walk, "at least I can kiss you properly again." He leans over to plant a quick kiss on Dream's lips, getting a smile in return. "And talk your ear off."

"I did miss your voice," Dream says. "And your kisses."

"Why are you sulking, then?"

A hint of embarrassment colors Dream's ears pink. "I had," he starts, sentences broken up, "Things. I was hoping you might be able to do again."

It takes Hob a second to realize what he means and then he doubles over laughing.

"Are you seriously," he wheezes, "are you seriously moping because I can't suck your dick?"

"You are rather good at it," Dream says, going truly red now, and Hob has to actually stop walking because he can't breathe for how hard he's laughing.

"I'm sorry the jaw surgery recovery is so disappointing to you," he says, sucking in air. "For the record I'd rather be blowing you than doing whatever they-- oh God, am I going to have to go to physical therapy now?"

It's a sobering thought. Dream's lips twitch. "Are you opposed to the profession?" he asks.

"I'll bear it for the sake of making you happy again," Hob says solemnly, and Dream plants his face in his palms.

Perhaps to distract from his own embarrassment, perhaps to distract Hob from his impending PT burden, Dream does end up buying Hob chips. As they eat Hob looks through the discharge paperwork he was given.

"They didn't technically say 'no oral sex'," he observes, and Dream nearly chokes on a chip.

"Do they think I'm not getting any?" Hob wonders aloud. "Is that why they didn't put it in? Just took one look at me and said 'yeah don't need to tell that one.' That hurts my feelings."

"No one would look at you and think that," Dream says.

Now Hob's the one who's choking. "Are you telling me I look like a whore?"

Dream appraises him with one eyebrow raised. "No one would look at you," he clarifies, "and think that no one would want to have sex with you."

"That might be your bias," Hob tells him, but takes his hand on the table and squeezes it fondly.

"I suppose I think about it a disproportionate amount," Dream concedes, and Hob laughs. "I think they left it out of the instructions because they assumed that if you were not allowed to even eat carrots, then not deepthroating my cock was implied."

"I'm not biting your cock, though," Hob argues.

"I would hope not."

"Okay, Doctor Dream," Hob gives in, "I'll be a good boy and not give you a blowjob."

Dream gives a long suffering and truly depressed sigh. "I will cope."

Instead, Hob kisses the back of his hand, which brings a smile back to his face. Dream pets his cheek, twists fingers into his hair fondly.

"Let us go home," he says. "I will make you dinner that is not solely composed of chips."

"Not soup," Hob begs.

"Not soup," Dream agrees, eyes sparkling.

--

Dream's not entirely wrong that sex was a little weird while Hob couldn't even open his mouth. Not that that stopped them from doing other things. He is looking forward to being able to properly kiss Dream again (and other things), though he's not as disappointed as Dream is about having 'rest his jaw' for a while longer. He's too busy being happy about being able to eat with a fork again instead of a straw.

It is fun to tease Dream about it, though. Really, Hob's the one who broke his jaw, and Dream thinks he's suffering?

"You are making fun of me," Dream says as Hob lies between his legs, cheek resting on the jut of his hipbone.

Hob kisses low on his belly. "Maybe."

"Hob."

"It's cute when you're horny." It had taken ages to get Dream comfortable enough to even voice his desires and Hob still feels his heart soar when he does now. Even if he can't fulfill them at the moment.

"Horny," Dream says, offended by the word choice.

"Admit it or do ten sets of physical therapy hand exercises."

"I can think of better things to do with my hands," Dream says, and Hob laughs.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Dream pets his cheek, runs his thumb over Hob's lower lip, dipping in to touch his tongue. "I am dearly sorry you injured yourself in my defense," he says.

"Would do it again," Hob says. "You didn't see your smile."

Dream smiles again now, charmed. "Perhaps you'd like a reward."

"Oh, I get a reward now? Instead of just flack for--"

Dream pushes him up and draws him close, kissing him fiercely. His fingers dig into Hob's hair, his tongue sweeps into Hob's mouth, he nips at Hob's bottom lip as he pulls away. God, Hob's missed kissing him like that.

"Next time I'll smash the other guy's head into a table first so he can't break my jaw," he promises. "Then I won't have to stop kissing you. Or other things."

"You learned nothing," Dream complains. But he's smiling, eyes sparkling.

"Maybe you'll have to teach me something new, then?"

Dream leans in to kiss him again. "Maybe I will."

[clockwayswrites]

A bitty bit and a poll... cw: post canon typical violence, blood, offer of smuttiness ship: Danny/Jason

“Danny.”

“Hood,” Danny said, pushing his hair back as he turned Jason’s way. His thumb ran over the shaved side of his head. A streak of blood trailed behind by the motion.

“What did they want?” Jason asked. He kicked at the side of one of the groaning thugs for emphasis as he strode over to Danny.

Danny just shrugged. “The usual.”

“Not supposed to be the usual in my territory,” Jason growled.

“Yeah, well,” Danny said with that crooked grin of his. There was something all the more feral about the grin that night between the blood and the way the harsh magenta neon that adorned the outside of Danny’s shop broke through the light rain. “I’m in that grey zone; not in one place or the other.”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re my mechanic so you’re my territory.”

Danny’s grin widened and he had the audacity to wink. “Kinky.”

“What did I say about shutting up?” Jason asked as he started to look Danny over for injuries.

Danny pliantly, and almost with amusement, let Jason check him over. When Jason found a cut on the other’s arm, he huffed, tossed the bloodied tire iron Danny was holding away, and started to roll up the sleeve of the black over shirt.

“It’s fine Hood, it’s nothing,” Danny said as he peered around Jason.

Without letting go of Danny’s arm, Jason pulled out a gun and twisted enough to point it at the thug who was helping the one Jason had kicked off the ground.

“This street is off limits.”

“Ain’t Crime Alley!” the one said, spitting blood. “Old Gotham is—”

“Right over there. This street? It’s mine,” Jason said. He cocked his gun for emphasis.

“It ain’t—”

“It ain’t worth dying over! Leave it!” the other thug hissed and tried to pull them away. “If fucking Red Hood says it’s his then it’s his! Now come on.”

“Make sure you take the rest with you,” Jason ordered. He kept his gun trained on them until they were long out of sight.

“Do I still have to shut up?” Danny asked cheekily into the silence. “Because I can think of some fun ways for you to make me.”

Jason turned slowly to look at Danny. “What.”

It wasn’t exactly a question. Jason knew what Danny was implying, but what?

Danny just shrugged, still with that smile. “Can’t a man thank his knight in leather armor? I mean, totally feel free to turn me down. I’m not going to pressure someone into that sort of thing, but I figured it didn’t hurt to offer. You seem like you’re a little tense—”

As if they weren’t just in a fight.

“—and could use the release. I’m not going to pretend that I would mind being between those thighs. So what do you say, wanna let me blow you?”

Danny might as well have hit Jason with that tire iron for how his thoughts scrambled at that offer. Who the fuck did that? Danny had no reason to. Jason already made clear that Danny was under his protection. Jason had also been ramping up the amount of work he gave to Danny versus handling himself. It wasn’t like the guy needed to offer sexual favors.

Jason shook his head, as if that would clear his confusion. “Next time or something. I’ve got work.”

“Sure, wouldn’t want to keep you,” Danny said and took a step back.

“Wrap that arm.”

“What arm?”

“Danny.”

Danny laughed and tucked his hands into his pockets as he backed up into his shop. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll wrap it. Go out there and take on the big bad night, hero.”

“I’m not a fucking hero,” Jason called after him. “And lock your damn door!”

Danny gave a cheeky salute before disappearing into the shop.

Brat.

---

AN: NOW, you all know by now, I'm sure, that I love playing around with how balanced Danny is as a half and his hair color and things like that. This is the new idea I was whining about earlier. It's going to be about as pwp as I'm able to get and supposedly a one shot. Danny is very, very forward, Jason is very, very confused (and later very, very satisfied). So all that said...

[mitsvriii]

Attraction

TW’s: angst throughout half of the fic, self-doubting

Pairings: one sided! Obanai Iguro x reader, Obanai Iguro x Mitsuri Kanroji, Giyu Tomioka x reader

Word count: 1.11k (first 1k+ piece!)

A/N: Sorry if characters are ooc, this is my first time writing for them. All images are from the KnY manga.

Part 2

Tags: @imyourbrokenfridge

You knew that it was stupid. To have a crush on the Serpent Hashira of all things. He had the personality of a brick, in the kind words of Muichiro, and was only nice to Mitsuri much to your dismay. But that didn't seem to stop you from trying to get close to him.

You tried to give him bentos, tried to see if he wanted to spar with you, tried to see if he'd like to accompany you to go get some ramen...hell, you even tried to see if he wanted to sit next to you in the pillar meetings. Your tries were all in vain however, as the answer was always the same.

"Mitsuri already gave me one."

"Mitsuri and I are going to spar actually."

"Mitsuri and I already went to get ramen this morning."

"Mitsuri and I are sitting next to each other, as always. Of course you'd forget that."

No matter how many times you heard his answers, they always seemed to hurt. You never gave up though, you always ignored the sympathetic look Shinobu gave you when you went to ask her if you could give Obanai his medicine for his wounds. You ignored the look that Sanemi gave you whenever you chased after Iguro after a meeting. And poor Kyojuro having to grab your wrist and reminding you that Iguro was out with Mitsuri whenever you were searching for him.

It was pathetic to put it bluntly. Chasing after Iguro like he was the only man alive. Uzui himself had even told you it was a lost cause, but you didn't care. Because to you he was one of the prettiest people you've ever seen, his heterochromia eyes and his crow-colored hair that you knew had to be soft was just two of the features that you liked about him. If only they carried over to his personality, though.

You sighed as you shifted on the bench, trying to stop thinking about Iguro. God...why did you have to fall for the guy that already had his eyes set on someone else. And it didn't help that it was Mitsuri either. She was the perfect in your eyes, strong, sweet, beautiful, and social. Obanai must've thought so, too, or else he wouldn't act like a puppy around her.

You knew it wasn't worth it to confess, and if you did it for closure you're positive Obanai would only make you feel worse. He might not look like it at first glance, but his tongue is sharper than his katana and it cuts like it, too. If you were Mitsuri you'd confess faster than your heart could beat. But you weren't and that was the entire problem.

You thought of how everyone was telling you to stop throughout looks and actions the entire time, but you were too lovesick to see it. Kyojuro, Uzui, and Shinobu were persistent on telling you to stop. Muichiro, Samemi, and Gyomei could only sigh as they watched and listen to your conversations...even though you couldn't even call them that. They were just basic greetings and questions, nothing special.

Your brows furrowed in thought when one name didn't come to mind. Giyu didn't ever try to stop you, did he? No..he didn't. In fact, you don't think you've even seen him in the past couple of days. Did he really go away because of how you acted? You wouldn't put it past him, he once left the hashira meeting early because he had to sit next to Sanemi during it.

"Hi."

You snapped out of your thoughts and lifted your head. Speak of the devil, it was Giyu.

"Do you mind if I sit?"

"Oh um, no", you watched as he sat down, holding a bento in his hand. Was he here to comfort you or something?

"You weren't at lunch", Giyu spoke, turning to look at you, "So I brought this for you." He held out the bento for you to take, a pair of chopsticks on top on it, turning his head away shyly.

"Oh, thank you Tomioka-sama", you took the bento and chopsticks from his hands. Opening it you saw that it had your favorite dish in it. How did he know that? You don't remember telling him.

Giyu sat in silence as he watched you eat, scanning your face to see if you liked it. The way you sighed and relaxed seemed that you did. He smiled softly, although it was gone as fast as it had appeared.

"Obanai's an idiot", he spoke, still looking at you.

"What?" you turned to look at him, placing the bento down onto your lap.

"He's an idiot, and has the personality of a brick", Giyu answered, a look of what seemed to be disgust on his face.

Oh, so that's where Muichiro got it from.

"Honestly don't know what Mitsuri sees in him, he's rude to everyone but her", Giyu continued, glancing back at you, "I can't believe he didn't pay any mind to you."

"What do you mean?" You were still confused, you didn't think yourself to be interesting in anyone's eyes.

Giyu sighed before looking at you, a slight pink dusting his cheeks, "You're beautiful and kind...I don't know how anyone couldn't be interested in you."

Your mouth parted into an "o" shape as you stared at Giyu. He wasn't kidding, he thought you were worth someone's time. And did he distance himself from you because he thought that you were interested in Obanai? It would be most likely.

"Tomioka-sama...do you like me?" Although your question was simple, it got Giyu red as he looked away. He nodded his head softly, still avoiding your gaze.

You both stayed silent. You couldn't believe that the stone-faced Water Hashira could get so flustered over someone. You broke the silence.

"How long?"

Giyu turned to look at you slightly, "Four months."

Your eyes widened. Four months? You hadn't even been crushing on Obanai for that long.

"Tomio-Giyu. I think I might like you too."

As bad as it sounded your attention was brought to Giyu first. Then as you adjusted to being the Frost Hashira Obanai came to catch your gaze. Maybe it was something about black-headed people that caught your attention.

"Would you...like to go get some ramen?...To see if you'd like to do it more often?" Giyu asked, his blush fading into a pink.

"I would love to Giyu", you replied with earnest.

Giyu gave a small smile as he got up and reached out his hand, inviting you to take it. And you took it as you both walked, both of your walks a little more energetic.

[alastorsfuckassbob]

You're Never Fully Dressed-

Alastorxfem!reader

oh boy everyone's favorite! Please I have never written before, I just figured I'd give it a shot it was 1:35 and I was not feeling sleepy so an hour later here it is, its not edited so SORRY ABOUT THAT- all of my friends are normal and would definitely not proof read this hot garbo!

Basic Plot!! Yikes another song fic i know i KNOWW, the reader knew our good pal Al in her life but oopsies he "left" her (he died duh) and now shes taking a sad hot girl bubble bath to reminisce!!

Lyrics are bolded, past events Italics for the most part.

ALSO Please DNI if you're a minor k thanks bye!! You are responsible for your own internet consumption, so here are the warnings! If you don't want to view that ✨dont✨

Warnings include:

-Swearing

-Violence

-Alcohol Use but not abuse! (its hell duh)

-Abusive Relationships

-Slight Innuendo but not a strong one!

-Angst

The fire danced, flitting left and right. It was different than any other fire set in hell, it wasn't meant to hurt anyone or destroy anything. It was just a small flame, melancholically melting the dripping wax down the white lilac scented pillar. Floral scents were hard to come by unless you made them yourself, it was hell after all, its not like theres a flower garden planted on every corner. The candles single wick didn't produce more than a drop of light. It just flickered every now and then, entertaining its own little lonesome sway. Your demeanor softened as you looked at it from the petal filled bath you currently resided in.

Oddly you felt at peace, understood, almost comforted. You had learned to dance the same way it seemed. You caught yourself when you fell, twisting and turning to please an audience. It was a cruel existence. At least the flame looked content in some way, at least it would never know what it was like to contort under the will of another. Yet it was still a light in darkness, shining for no other reason than to survive...All it could ever do was take, even if it didn't want to, fire needs to burn. To burn it must destroy. You sighed sinking deeper into the bubbly water. You didn't want to think about your past. Not anymore. You didn't have to anymore anyway. Life had not been kind to you and that constant displeasure followed you through your death and into the pits of hell. Funny how suffering could follow biting desperately at your heels and the man who was so "desperately" in love with you in life just couldn't find it within himself to stay...God you sounded bitter. To be fair you were. After all he had ruined your life and he didn't even know it...It wasn't that bad was it? You probably would still be in hell regardless, even without his "involvement" or lack of- you had always been a sinner. It wasn't worth it to be upset, not anymore he's most likely dead, you definitely are, whose to say if he'd even wind up down here. You paused a moment, laughing at the silly conclusion overthinking had led you to.. no that fucker is definitely in hell. Sweet as he was up front, he had a dark side that went much deeper than his soft exterior could cover. You closed your eyes..

1923- Central New Orleans

Suddenly it was 1923. The flower lined streets of late spring in New Orleans. His smile never wavering as he dragged you from store to store. As your dear companion, and biggest supporter, he had asked you to assist him at the radio station. Now that you had finished school you would need a job anyway. You'd always had a beautiful voice and a knack for writing. It just made sense. His hand squeezed yours lightly pulling you from your thoughts. In his hands, he held a burgundy day dress and a matching bow.

"Darling, would you try this on for me? I believe it is high time you were rewarded for all of your hard work. I believe you would simply sparkle in this color"

You smile softly at his gentle tone, taking the delicate dress in your hands. You find yourself caught in his eyes. It feels like you two are the only people on the planet

You feel the familiar sensation of tears on your face, you open your eyes again, you hadn't realized you'd started crying.

you let out the shrill scream you didn't know you were holding in. the fluke of champagne you had so tediously been savoring since you began your bath cracked slightly. You downed the rest of the glass, and grabbed the bottle sitting lazily on the floor. You didn't want to think about him or your life anymore...but it consumed you. You had so many more important things to fret about in your..current..environment. Songs to sing, bitches to kill, people to fuck. A grand glorious array of newer shinier problems, and yet you were stuck sulking about the past. You take a deep breath shaking slightly despite the warm vanilla scented water surrounding you. You remove your hand from the water motioning to the shadow hiding behind a vase (of no more than slightly wilted roses). It slinks forward at your beckoning, climbing to the white marble countertop of your vanity, it clicks the worn down knob of your rickety old radio. light jazzy music trickles out and fills the air with lovesick nostalgia you weren't entirely prepared to let in. No matter what he had done...you would always fall back to him. Even if he was nothing more than ill-fated failed fourteen year "endeavor". fourteen years is quite a long time, even if the majority of it was spent more or less platonically. You really did love him. Love doesn't always follow those that leave, you are testimony and truth to that. You let your mind wander guided by the static filled notes of the radio.

Hey, hobo man

Hey, Dapper Dan

You've both got your style

But brother

You're never fully dressed

Without a smile!

Even through the shudder of the static, it really did sound like him. Despite being the "host" of the station. He had his fair share of performances. For such a Hell bound soul he had the voice of an angel.

You close your eyes once again and allow the melody to take you back to an easier time.

1926- New Orleans, Your apartment

You sing along with whatever tune the radio gives you. You're at peace, simply existing for no other reason than to be with your friend.

"Dance with me my little canary, your voice lights a fire within me"

He pulls you in by the waist. His hands splayed across your hips holding them with a gentleness you'd never expected him to hold for you. He leans his head down against the yours and places a chaste kiss on your forehead

"Alastor" you giggle, the sensation tickling you slightly. "You are quite ridiculous"

"Ridiculous?" he feigns hurt. "My darling I am so far from ridiculous the word does not find sense within my ears" he spins you around and into his chest, you roll your eyes ignoring his antics

"Dearest are you aware you are speaking with the future of radio?"

"The future of radio? Please Love, don't jest. The 20s surely have more in store than you" You laugh into his chest and he shockingly laughs with you.

Neither of you know it but you are both so drunk on the sound. To you, his laugh sounds like the swift church bells that used to ring throughout your home town whenever someone got married. It feels familiar and yet like a distant memory. It makes you want to hear it over and over again until your ears stop working, and even then you'd settle in just fine feeling the vibrations of his chest. He sounds like home. To him, your laugh sounds like the rushing creek and smooth algae covered stones resting deep beneath the trees draped in Spanish moss of his mothers cabin in the woods. Just hearing your laugh he can feel the spotted sunlight speckling his freckled face underneath the big willow tree. You sound like home. Everything about you- it felt like home to him. His hands were crafted to hold soft curves of your body. His ears were made to hear your voice and your voice alone. You were purpose, his home. You don't know it, but it is that realization that sparked the idea of marriage into his heart.

That fire was put out not long after.

You at least had those nine years as his friend, three years as his "copain" if you will- and two years as his fiancée...and so many years alone. You only spent 14 years in the company of this man. You had lived before knowing him a good 17 years, and a good long bit after.

Why were you so stuck?

You hum along subconsciously, the objects in your bathroom begin to glow a familiar pink, levitating slightly in the air as you continue to hum. Your ability isn't weak by any means, but for some reason you were. You were nothing in comparison to hells overlords, especially the newest trio of Vs. Your power is so deeply connected to your voice, how can you hold power when it doesn't belong to you anymore? You drift back to the memory of your arrival. Scared, alone, dressed a great deal less than modestly, and equipped with nothing more than a pair of horns, some wings you couldn't quite use yet, and a thin devil like tail. It was only your third hour in hell. You didn't understand the rules. You were playing a twisted game in which you didn't realize you were just another piece of.

Shock can make a person anxious and fear will make them stupid. He was tall and smelled distinctly of cigars, soured whiskey, and something pungently sweet you couldn't name. It burned your nose as you inhaled it. You would become well aquatinted with the smell of lust in the years to come, you just didn't know it yet. It seemed innocent at first, just a simple contract, no different than a job. All you had to do was sing and dance at a club, in exchange for safety. But it was different and it wasn't innocent. He was cruel and yet no different than so many of the men you had dealt with in life. He agreed to your terms of anonymity and thats about it. You had your private life and his life. Valentino never played fair. You didn't know that yet, and now you're hells favorite sinner, a least no one knew it was you. If he had asked you another day later you would have realized you could have probably fended for yourself, with some difficulty anyway. At least you wouldn't have to be in this mess. You wouldn't be fucking six people before noon. You wouldn't be constantly covered in bruises and scars...Maybe you could have found him, Alastor that is. Maybe you could have at least been friends again. Its silly to hope for anything more since your romantic relationship ended...✨the way it did✨

Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But brother

You're never fully dressed

Without a smile!

1931- New Orleans, The river

The two of you sit beside each other in a small wooden row boat. Your hair is tied back with your signature crimson ribbon. He fiddles with the pocket of his jacket. The Louisiana soundscape of crickets, frogs and running water accompanies your conversation. Fireflies light up the air, almost bringing the stars down to your fingertips. With a buzz and a gentle green glow, the small creature lands on your hand. Your smile leaks wonderment and Alastor can hardly contain the love he feels for you.

As a Radio Host, he is quite agile in the way of words, yet something about you has him constantly at a loss. He takes a deep breath, unsure of what to say his voice wavers as he begins to speak.

"y/n, I want to thank you for the effect you've had in my lif-"

"My love look at the stars!" You didn't mean to cut him off, Your arms stretched upwards your face turning to meet his. The stars were so much brighter then they were in the city, it was only natural for you to be excited

"Yes doll, I see them, they're the same as they were last night and many many nights before hand"

You let out an impatient huff

"that doesn't make them any less beautiful." a mischievous glint hides in your eyes "now wouldn't it be so dreadfully terrible if I got bored looking at you just because I've already seen you before?" You fake a yawn and look at him eyes seething with boredom

"It would be so dreadful considering I was about to propose to you"

There is no other word to describe what you felt other than shocked. You had been an item for quite some time, but you never figured he would stick around (and "seal the deal" if you will).

Tears begin to run down your face rambling small words of agreement and love. You had never expected him to..love you that way. He was who he was, a dreadfully popular radio host, and you weren't really anything more than an assistant. People really only listened for him..yet in this moment, he was speaking only for you.

"I love you so dearly my y/n. If life without you exists I do not want to exist through it"

Who cares what they're wearing

On Main Street

Or Saville Row

1934: New Orleans, Alastor's house

The house was empty. He was gone. Fully and truly gone. It had been a year since you'd seen or heard from him and six months since the birth of your son. It didn't feel like your house, it didn't feel like your life anymore. It was all still his. His things still bled into your side of the closet, his last purchase, a book, dust encrusted and unread. The blankets and pillows set on the couch exactly as you both had left them after falling asleep to the rain the night before he left wordlessly. You found yourself sporting one of his shirts more often than your own...until eventually they didn't smell like him anymore. The whole house used to reek of his signature vanilla smell. Theres nothing left here but dust and the crooked board of the desk he insisted he could build himself "just fine".

It's what you wear from ear to ear

And not from head to toe

That matters

1936- New Orleans; ✨that shitty bar you performed at✨

"Get the fuck up you bitch"

You felt his hand tangle in your hair and pull you to your knees. All you could do was groan in pain.

"I'm so sorry it won't happen again I promise"

You mutter almost to yourself. He rolls his eyes shoving you into the counter smashing a glass in the process. Your vision blurs for a second seeing the glass shards decorating your h/c locks in a halo. You feel the blood trickle down your forehead.

"Do you think anyone else would hire you? A whore with nothing to her name and a useless ugly bastard child from god knows who?" You feel angered at his words. Insulting you is one thing, but your child?

But then it sinks in, he's right. The 30s are a sick decade, nothing progressive about them. No one else would hire you. You are lucky to work here..despite it all. You tell yourself anything is better than living on the streets. The mantra doesn't dull the pain but it makes it easier to put up with. You don't have a choice. You have a child to take care of.

"Get rid of him"

you stay silent unsure if you heard him correctly.

"Get rid of the boy. I don't care if you leave him in a box on the street or kill him yourself"

He reaches for a small silver knife under the bar's counter. He places it against your throat.

" y/n..You won't like it if I do it dearest, besides you are saving him the shame of having a mother like you. At least if he's adopted elsewhere he has a chance at a half decent life" he took a deep swig from his un-shattered glass of whiskey, looking at you with such deep distain.

You had never hated anyone the way you hated that man..But he was right. You would never be able to give your baby the best life. It would never get better because you couldn't make it better. So you found a young couple not to far from New Orleans, they took him in, and he got to be happy. he ended up living a successful life. He still is. If nothing else theres that. You know your own misery doesn't automatically allow others to be happier, but at times its what keeps you going.

Your mind is flooded with more and more thoughts. Thousands of little memories pilling themselves on top of you. Who would've thought, even deceased, even owned by Valentino, even trapped in an ever so violent place, the real plight of hell would be your thoughts. You light a cigarette and get out of the tub. You throw on a dark red robe and sit on the vanity's counter to brush your damp hair. The song continues into a jazzy interlude before it reprises again

Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But, brother

You're never fully dressed

You're never dressed

Without a smile

You stretch out your wings in the mirror, looking at your demonic self. No matter how many times you catch yourself in the mirror, even after ten years of this hellish existence. It still strikes you as odd. You look more or less the same. The same hair color and skin tone, although slightly more grey. The tail was just fucking weird no matter how long you had it. The song erupts into the finale distracting you from your thoughts. You begin to sing along with it, smiling softly. It really does sound like him. The same pink glow takes over the room as well as your body, Your eyes begin to glow that same soft pink, your hair floating above your shoulders.

Who cares what they're wearing

On Main Street

Or Saville Row

It's what you wear from ear to ear

And not from head to toe

You're never fully dressed without a smile

The last line comes out much quieter than the rest. A sense of sadness overtakes you once again as you realize how pathetic this whole night turned out. You'd spent the whole night "Simping", as Velvette would say, over a relationship that ended decades ago. Yikes. The static from the radio clicks up a few notches, You cover your ears at the sudden noise. You quickly reach for the dial in order to turn off the device..And then you hear it. You hear him.

"Dearest.." Its almost unintelligible through the static

You think you've finally fucking lost it. Ten years in Hell and you've officially gone "delulu"...another Velvette saying but it feels fitting.

“y/n.”

He called softly, the static in his voice heavy and nearly unreadable.

You almost didn't believe it.

"Y/n" He repeats the static fizzling out leaving his voice raw and almost natural. Fuck this was real. You didn’t respond. You didn’t know how to. You weren't sure if he could even hear you..how he would respond? Would it be worse if he did? It had been an entire decade since you fell, All of this time- he never bothered to contact you. Why now? Why so much later?... Had he forgotten about you? Did he just..die? You cant discern which is worse...that he had left you and your son and lived a long guilt free life...or that he made no attempt to even speak to you in the decade you had inhabited the same existence.

Ok that was all like exposition and shit..considering part two but I AM VERY TIRED RN

[sopiao]

how i think the 141 men would do when asked “can you watch my drink for me?” XP

Price would nod while happily accepting your request, snickering a little when he sees you almost trip on your way to the bathroom. He’d either keep it close to his body or have his other hand flatten over the rim, lidded from any weirdos trying to sneak a roofie in your fruity alcoholic drink. He’d suddenly sober up, to be more alert. The Captain usually never drinks, only enough to feel a buzz but never tipsy or flat out drunk. Someone had to be sober to drive everyone back, keep them from doing stupid shit that would hurt them— or get arrested from said stupid shit. A sudden sense of pride and warmth filled his chest when he saw how comfortable and reliant you are on him, shows how dependable he is.

When you ask Soap if he can watch your drink for you he nods mid-sip. He was ready for this. Setting his own drink down on a table to carefully look after yours. “Like a hawk!” He yells at you, you’re already across the room to the bathroom. He’d sniff the drink to see what you got, if it smells okay enough he’ll even take a sip of it. It’s a 50/50 whether he’s judge your choice of alcohol or not. One guy even had the audacity to ask for your drink, what did he plan to do with it? I don’t know, probably some shiesty shit. Soap will literally bark at the man until he goes away. He earned a couple weird looks from the people around, but it was worth it.

Gaz would of course be protective of it. Staying in one spot and just watching, observing the other people in the club. Whenever he drank it was always one or two beers or 10 shots, nothing in between. But if he’s beyond drunk and you hand him your drink, he’ll immediately sober up, only until you take your drink back. On more than one occasion he forgot he was holding your drink and even drank half of it. He only seemed to realize it when you wondered why half was missing. He, of course, got you another one. Except he gets you one of his own choice cause “You haven’t got the best taste”.

If you ask Ghost to watch over your drink, he’d decline at first. But you insist since you have to go to the bathroom. Shoving the drink in his hand, leaning him no choice but to watch over it. It’s not like he doesn’t want to.. he just.. doesn’t want to? He keeps it in the little cage of his arms that rests on the bar. Staring down every person that gets even 5 feet away from him. Doesn’t matter with the gender, looks, or level of sobriety. Anyone could have the ill intentions of roofieing you. He looks down at your drink, confused by the colorful and fruity smell. Wondering how you can even drink that crap. He eventually just orders another glass of what he got. Just straight hard liquor. He insists that it’s better than “Whatever fruit juice shit you had before”.

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || 1.5

1.1 | 1.2 | 1.3 | 1.4 | [here]

ahhh!! the final part of chapter one! hope the wait was worth it <3 i’ll be posting the full chapter on ao3 tonight, so look out for a post with that link! i’ll also start a master post that i’ll pin to the top of my blog later. eventually. it’s on my to-do list.

i’ll start posting chapter 2 sometime in jan/feb, depending on when i fjnish writing chapter 3, which i’m about a third done with!

happy christmas! i hope everyone enjoys the final part to chapter one!

Steve hadn’t received a response from Eddie, but he wasn’t really expecting one anyway. He sipped his chai and checked the time every minute or so, and even though it felt like he’d been waiting for ages, only a few minutes had passed when a man walked into the café. He had long, dark curly hair, that was in a messy bun. He was wearing a grey band shirt with ripped black skinny jeans and chains hanging off of them. He appeared to be holding the hand of a little girl who had a mane of wild curls that were a few shades lighter than her dads. She was wearing a purple dress and a poofy blue jacket that appeared to do nothing to slow her down as she seemed to move even as her dad ordered.

Steve couldn’t stop the smile that formed at the sight, but assumed that this wasn’t who he was waiting for. He didn’t think his client would bring his pup with him to the interview. He found no harm in watching them for a bit while he waited for Eddie to show up.

After the man placed the order, he turned to look directly at Steve, who flushed in embarrassment at being caught looking and ducked his head. Which meant he didn’t see the man approach with his daughter in tow, but he did smell him, a sweet, musky scent filled his nose as the alpha approached, it reminded him of the forest. He lost himself in it for a moment before subtly shaking his head to clear it. He looked up with wide eyes as the man stopped at his table, hazel eyes meeting brown.

“Steve?” The alpha—Eddie?—asked, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Steve blinked as he took in the sight of the man, trying to figure out where he knew him from. He looked familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint why. He was sure he would have remembered meeting an alpha this handsome.

“Huh? Oh, yes, sorry,” Steve stammered, cheeks suddenly flushed. He stood abruptly to properly greet the alpha, “That’s, um, I’m Steve.” he thrust his hand out to shake Eddie’s, who took it and shook firmly. Steve ignored the way his stomach swooped at the firm grip the alpha had.

“..I’m Eddie,” he responded, and opened his mouth to say something else but a small voice interrupted them.

“I’m Elodie!” the pup said cheerfully, trying to replicate the action of shaking Steve’s hand. He was immediately enamored with Elodie and allowed her to shake his hand.

“It is so nice to meet you, Miss Elodie.” he said sincerely, grinning as she giggled in response. The three of them quickly sat, with Eddie and Elodie on one side, and Steve on the other.

Steve wasn’t sure where to start, now that he knew they were going to be joined with the pup he would be taking care of if he was chosen. To be fair, he probably wouldn’t have known where to start even if she hadn’t joined them.

Elodie seemed to be taking this seriously, sitting next to her father with her hands together on the table. She had taken out a notepad and had it opened to a blank page with her colored pencil next to it. She looked like she was trying hard to look stern, and failed miserably at it, which was just an adorable sight. Beside her, Eddie looked uncomfortable but still polite. Elodie also seemed to not have the same problem as the adults, immediately launching into questioning.

“Will you take me to the park?”

Steve glanced at Eddie, who looked fondly exasperated the moment Elodie started talking, so Steve figured it wouldn’t hurt to answer her question.

“If your dad is okay with it, sure,” he agreed easily, trying not to show his amusement in his tone, but sure his scent was giving it away as it sweetened. He was glad that pups didn’t fully develope their understanding of the different scents until they were a bit older than Elodie.

Elodie nodded firmly, writing it down on her little notepad, which upon closer inspection, Steve noticed had stickers of what appeared to be dragons and unicorns decorating it.

Eddie seemed content to let her do her questioning, sitting back and watching the pair. Steve wondered if this was the interview, to see how he and Elodie got along.

“Will you give me treats?” was the next question that Elodie had for him.

Steve leaned forward to stage whisper to her, “Only every day,” as if it were a secret. She brightened at that answer, giggling. Steve tried not to wince as her feet kicked into his shins, hiding it with a grin.

Elodie looked up at her dad, “Alright. I think we have a winner.” she said firmly, and Steve couldn’t withhold a grin from taking over his face, just barely holding back a laugh. She had all of two questions for him, neither of which were entirely surprising for a pup to ask.

Eddie rolled his eyes fondly at her, patting her head, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Odie?” Elodie nodded rapidly, eyes wide and begging. “Let me ask him some questions, and I’ll take your vote into consideration. Sound good?” Elodie looked like a bobble head as she nodded wildly again.

“Okay! Can I go play now?” she asked, looking out the window where there was a park across the street.

Eddie looked as though he was about to say no, so Steve took it upon himself to try to convince the alpha.

“There are picnic tables on the far side, you can’t see them from here, but we could sit at one of them and keep an eye on her,” Steve offered, Eddie’s gaze snapped over to him in surprise.

Elodie looked at her father with wide brown eyes, lip jutting out in a pout. “Please?” she asked, stretching the word out until Eddie heaved a sigh.

“Alright, let’s go,” he gave in, standing from the table. Steve’s cheeks hurt from how much he was smiling from this little encounter, and stood to follow them out. Elodie immediately held her dad’s hand, and reached a hand out to Steve to hold one of his as well. Steve glanced nervously at the alpha, but allowed her to take his hand, too.

“Bye, Steve!” Will called as they walked to the door and Steve knew he’d be receiving a load of texts from the other pups he used to babysit about this.

“See you later, Will,” Steve called back, bracing himself against the chilly air as they stepped outside. Almost immediately, Elodie tried to race ahead of the pair, but instinctually, Steve tightened his hold, as Eddie lightly scolded her.

“Elodie Mae, you know you have to hold my hand to cross the street,” he said, frowning at the pup. Elodie pouted, but held their hands and walked with them across the street to the park.

Once they were safely across, Elodie took off towards the park while Steve led Eddie to the picnic benches on the far side. Steve nervously glanced at the alpha, trying to figure out how he was doing so far. He seemed relaxed, but wary of their surroundings, glancing around them frequently, as if nervous to be seen. Steve felt his hackles rise, and furrowed his eyebrows. Could the alpha be embarrassed to be seen with him? Surely not, Chrissy wouldn’t have let him move forward to this stage of the hiring process if Eddie wasn’t going to at least consider him for the job.

“Here are the picnic tables,” Steve said needlessly as a way to fill the silence that had grown between them.

Eddie hummed in response and sat at one of them, and Steve followed his lead, sitting across from him. The picnic table was positioned perpendicular to the park, so Steve sat straddling the bench to keep an eye on Elodie. He may not have been hired yet, so he still wanted to prove that he was capable of the job.

Eddie was silent for a while, but eventually he seemed to figure out what exactly he wanted to say. “This wasn’t my idea,” he started, watching as Elodie ran up to another kid playing at the park.

“I figured not,” Steve admitted, smiling as the two pups ran off together to play.

“But Chrissy is right,” he continued, looking at Steve, “being on tour is a lot and watching an eight year old while performing is pretty much impossible. So, I had two options: leave her at home with a nanny, or bring her with and hire a traveling nanny.”

Suddenly the reason why Eddie seemed so familiar became abundantly clear, he was Eddie Munson. Rockstar, Eddie Munson. Corroded Coffin lead singer, Eddie Munson. Heart-throb alpha, Eddie Munson.

Steve tried to grapple with this revelation silently, hoping that Eddie wouldn’t notice as he didn’t want the musician to think that Steve was being unprofessional. It was fine, really, it just wasn’t something that Steve had been expecting, is all. He wasn’t even a fan of the music, but he knew that Dustin and his friends—including Will—were massive fans. He was glad that Will didn’t flip out when they were in the coffee shop.

“That would be a lot on anyone’s plate,” he finally said, once he was sure his voice wasn’t going to give away his realization. “And I would be more than happy to take some off of it. I’ve already started planning some classwork, actually,” he admitted shyly.

Eddie looked at him in surprise, but it didn’t seem like a bad reaction, so Steve considered it a win.

“Really?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “Even though you weren’t guaranteed the job yet?”

“I was stressing about today, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared,” Steve shrugged, not looking at the alpha, instead watching as Elodie and the other pup raced from the monkey bars to the swings.

“That’s impressive,” Eddie told him, and when Steve looked at him, he was smiling tentatively.

Steve scoffed slightly, brushing off the compliment. “Even if I don’t get the job,” he felt a pang of sadness hit him at the thought, “it’s still good practice.”

“Oh, you have the job,” Eddie said nonchalantly, so much so that Steve didn’t process the words for a second.

“I do?” he asked, whipping his head to look at Eddie so abruptly that he felt his neck crack once.

“Yeah, Elodie got the final say,” he smiled vaguely in the direction of where Steve knew Elodie and her new friend were playing.

Chrissy’s earlier amusement about not making the choice of candidate made sense, now.

“Thank you,” Steve said, unsure if that was the right response, but not knowing how else to express his gratitude about being hired.

Eddie smiled vaguely at Steve, shrugging slightly. “As long as she didn’t choose an obvious asshole, I’m more than happy to hire whoever she wants. Means she’s gonna be more likely to listen to you.”

Steve nodded, “That…makes a lot of sense, actually,” he said softly.

“I’ll get Chrissy to email you the official offer, and whatever else needs to be sent,” he hummed, smiling at him.

“I look forward to it,” Steve said honestly, already looking forward to telling Robin that he got the job. He thought of the NDA, and wilted slightly. He wasn’t sure how much he was allowed to actually share with her about the job. He knew he’d be able to tell her that he <i>got</i> the job at least, but not much more than that. Maybe he’d ask Chrissy if they were hiring for something else, because like hell he’d be sued for talking to his best friend.

The pair spent another two hours or so watching Elodie run around and play, but eventually they had to leave.

“Bye, Miss Elodie,” the omega said, laughing as the pup hugged him tightly.

“Bye, Mister Steve,” Elodie mumbled into his sternum before she pulled away and took Eddie’s hand.

“Goodbye, Eddie,” Steve said, looking up at the handsome alpha through his eyelashes. Eddie smiled, but it looked tense, and Steve was reminded that this wasn’t Eddie’s idea. In fact, he seemed to be mildly against the whole affair.

After they said their goodbyes, Steve watched Eddie and Elodie get into a black car with tinted windows, and watched as it disappeared around a corner before he started the longish walk home, feeling a pep in his step as he did.

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[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #3

(I'm feeling kinda angsty today, I guess. If there's a fic/prompt like this already tho, please link me. 👀)

next →

✦

Reaper of Heroes

Once crowned as the High Ghost King of the Infinite Realms, Danny gains some grim reaper-like abilities and dominion over a specific subset of souls.

Heroes.

People who don masks and capes to protect the innocent from those who would harm them, just like he once did in the beginning of his existence as a halfa. He's was horrified by the responsibility but is eventually resigned to it. Due to bittersweet nostalgia, he quickly grows fond of the heroes that rose up after he took the throne and packed away the suit. Responsible he may be for the collection of their souls, but with council from Clockwork and the Ghost of Time's knowledge of the most desired paths, sometimes he'll just... let a soul slip through his fingers and return to it's vessel before it's chain is completely severed. He doesn't care that the observants complain constantly about those particular actions. If there's still room for a soul to do good for the better of everyone else, they can hardly stop him from straying from their plans. Much less with him as their king and protection as his obsession.

Only he is responsible for the reaping of these specific souls, unless delegated to one of the more common reapers at his command of course. Sometimes he follows his favorite heroes around, invisible to them unless he wishes them to see him or they're very close to death's door. He's trailed them so closely that some heroes have reported seeing a kind but sad looking man with white hair and aurora green eyes when they've nearly been pushed past the limits of their mortal bodies.

Ones who have passed through the veil but came back report vague memories of a similar sort; a kind man who cradled the very essence of their being with hands so gentle it's worth a few awe filled tears once he released them back amongst the living. The JL give him the moniker Grim, for his black and white coloring and for the shadowy scythe he carries not as a weapon but more like a key that unlocks the chain that binds them to their flesh. He never speaks to any of the heroes he interacts with tho. Always silent with a calculating, but sorrowful gaze.

At least until now.

When he appears before a bruised and beaten, young Jason Todd with whisper soft words in his ear as he comforted the concussed boy about to be killed in a fiery inferno at the hands of Gotham's mad clown.

As the explosion comes to a close, an unseen figure cradles the star-like light of a soul close to his chest as he wept and apologized for being unable to save the young soul from such a painful end but was thankful the poor boy this light belonged to could feel it no longer.

✦

What do you think? Angsty enough? I might have a little more to add to this but I'm gonna stop for now. I injured my hand yesterday, so it hurts to type for too long.

[captain-mj]

Korangi mafia au 👀

I don’t know I wanted to Drabble

Horangi shivered in the bottom of his cell, body aching. The men that had been in the room previously had cut him. Using knives to make tiger stripes across his body. He was now… decorated. It had been a very rough week for him.

Horangi tried to sit up while his body burned. It told him to please sit the fuck back down. He should get up. Was supposed to get up. They would come back at any point and finally finish him off. But Horangi couldn’t drag himself up. It was definitely a low point. He knew that all of the gambling would eventually catch up to him, but he didn’t really expect to die here. In some random gang’s members basement.

Someone walked in after a while. There was an unnerving silence before freezing cold water was splashed on him, soaking him to the bone. He swore he felt chips of ice hit his body and the fresh wounds. It hurt so bad that his eyes started to water but he refused. He wouldn’t fucking cry.

“Do you speak my language?” The man had a thick Austrian accent. Now that Horangi was looking at him, he thought he recognized him from somewhere, though he couldn’t pinpoint it. Based on the fact he was here and so nicely dressed, he assumed someone important from some gang or mafia or mob or some other group that wanted his head.

Horangi nodded numbly. He hurt all over. But he didn’t cry. Not once.

“I don’t think you’re worth the amount of money i just paid for you to get released. But you’ll do.”

Horangi frowned. “What?”

“Paid your debts. Hong-jin, right?”

“Prefer Horangi.”

“Horangi.” The man repeated and stood up. He was… very well dressed. Hair slicked back. He was much older than Horangi. His arms were covered with tattoos.

“Why did you pay my debts?”

“Have a job for you. You’re lucky too. They were just about to come down here and…” He mimed putting a bullet in Horangi’s head. “But we don’t need to dwell on that do we? Because I’m going to give you a job. Once you’ve paid off what I paid today, I’ll start paying you. Good money too. If you do it right.”

Horangi’s body reacted. It tensed and it felt like he’d split open where the scarring was. “You’re not whoring me out. I swear to God I’ll fuc-”

He felt them strike his face hard. The rings on his hand cut open his skin. “If I wanted to, I would already be doing so. Wouldn’t have bothered waiting for you to wake up.”

Horangi bit his tongue and looked up at him.

“Now, my guys here are going to pick you up and finish cleaning you off. Then we’re going to go home. You have one week to recover and after that, we’ll talk. You understand?”

Horangi nodded, having a lot of questions but making the decision to save his own life first. He could always escape later. Couldn’t exactly resurrect himself.

“Get him up.” The man left and Horangi felt the other men pick him up like he was a doll. His body dangled to the floor helplessly as they moved him elsewhere. He noticed vaguely he was in a car but everything went dark around the edges and then he was out.

The bed He woke up in was so soft. Someone had bandaged him up. This time, Horangi managed to drag himself out of bed. He needed to find a way out. Debt be damned. He’ll pay later.

He opened the door and almost fell back.

Large man. He had to be close to 7 feet tall. Horangi thought he was a bit… scrawny, but he made up for that in height.

“Hi.”

The man had turned bright red. His hair was a dark auburn that was almost the same color as his face. He had a patch of freckles as well over his nose and cheeks.

“H-hi.” The poor guy managed to stutter out.

Horangi stared at him, a little surprised someone as dangerous and with enough money to pay off the… excessive amount of money Horangi owed, would hire… this guy.

“Can I help you?”

The man held up some bandages and it clicked that he was probably a medic. A waste considering his size, but that’s exactly what he needed right now. With a small amount of hesitation, Horangi had to admit that this was a lot better than dying of infection and surely staying just a little longer wouldn’t hurt.

“What’s your name?”

“Um…”

“Um isn’t a very good name. Mine is Horangi.” He knew he shouldn’t be so mean, but it was a little too easy.

“Most people call me König.”

“König? Doesn’t that mean King?”

“Yes.”

“They call you King?” Horangi very much doubted it.

König frowned at him, looking more and more flustered by the second. “And they call you Tiger?”

“You know Korean?”

“No. I looked it up.” König admitted rather quickly. “Can you lay down for me? You are very injured…”

Horangi slowly obeyed, not really believing that this marshmallow of a man could hurt him. He laid down and stretched. His entire upper half only had bandages. His face had a few too, but he didn’t really want to think about that. They were stretched over his face.

Now that he wasn’t actively bleeding out or freezing to death, he could feel it more. The cuts ran along his spine and then curling down his ribs. They ran over his arms and even to his knees. Along his face, they had carved little lines to represent how much he owed. They had done tally marks for every 1000 euros. He supposed it was better than what they could’ve done.

König was gentle. He unbandaged him and gently cleaned the wounds. His hands were warm and although there were clear calluses on his pointer finger, most of his hands were nice and soft. König also took a considerable amount of care in being nice. No fast movements, no rough pressing of the cloth, not an ounce of unnecessary pressure.

Once König was done cleaning each wound, he carefully bandaged him back up in the fresh bandages. His fingertips grazed his skin and Horangi was surprised by the amount of goosebumps that gave him. It had been a while since someone had touched him this way. It had been while since anyone touched him in general unless it was to hurt him or… worse. He sighed softly and relaxed more.

König patted him gently. “All better?”

No. Not at all. “Feel cleaner. Don’t suppose I could take a shower?”

“After all my hard work? No. If you’re able to stand long enough, I’ll help you shower tomorrow.”

Horangi groaned but nodded. It was fair. The idea of a hot shower was alluring, but he probably could not stand for long enough. He fell asleep and eventually someone brought him food. It was just soup, rather plain soup at that, but he ate it and continued on.

This time, when he went to make his escape, someone was there guarding his door, not about to come in. They simply flashed their gun and made a motion for him to go back inside.

“Need anything, ask. Boss says we need to take real good care of you.”

Horangi did not like the sound of that. He checked his windows but they were nailed shut. His bathroom was nice, but there was only a tiny window at the top that he definitely could not fit in.

Fuck.

Horangi sighed and waited for König to come back. Eventually his back started to pull tight again and he decided to lay down again. Everything hurt. He paused as he left the bathroom and considered looking at himself. After a few minutes of hesitating, he decided to not. He’d wait until he had healed mostly.

So Horangi laid back down and tried to focus on anything other than the ache on his skin. The burn of his muscles when he moved them wrong. He wished he had something for it. Pain medicine of some kind or even just compresses would be nice.

Horangi asked the guard for it and they pulled out their phone to text someone.

König arrive again. He looked just as anxiety riddled and big as before, only now with the added bonus of having dark circles and a small frown.

“Everything alright? I didn’t really need assistance. Just the items.”

König shook his head. “I want to make sure no infection has set in. The wounds are so close to your spine… I worry about what might happen.” He gently pushed him down and put his hand on the nape of his neck to keep him there. Horangi tensed and grabbed the sheets as hard as he could. The position made him nervous but he stayed still.

König examined them again and cleaned them once more. He then put something cold on them while he fed Horangi two pills. They were pretty small so Horangi doubted they’d work until suddenly it felt like he had been knocked flat on his ass. The world melted away and with it all the pain.

König’s hands were magic. They gently soothed away any heat. He blinked and König was tugging him up.

“What are you doing?”

“Don’t you want a shower still?”

“I thought you said tomorrow.”

“It is tomorrow. I forgot you’re smaller. Need smaller doses.” König lifted him with a little too much ease.

Horangi groaned, too tired and sluggish to be mad about the comment about his size or the way he picked him up. “What did you give me?”

“Don’t worry about that. Ill bathe you instead.” König set him down on the sink and Horangi just nodded. He wasn’t wearing much clothing so it was easy for König to undress him. The water turned it and after a few minutes, he gently scooped Horangi back up.

Horangi tensed at the last second above the water, expecting it to be either freezing cold or way too hot, but it was pleasant. Maybe a little warmer than he would normally make it, but pleasant. He melted as König started to wash him. The warm rag ran over every inch of skin. König seemed particularly careful behind his ears and along his arms.

“Do you know what my job is?”

“That’s not something you need to concern yourself with right now.” König smiled at him, red again. Only now did Horangi consider how this might be for him. Poor little anxious man.

“So you do know?”

“...i do.” König sighed. “It really isn’t important.”

“Then why won’t you tell me?” Horangi pressed him but also pressed into his hands.

König grabbed his face, gently cleaning the tally marks and then scrubbing the rest. “I don’t want to upset you. You should be focused on healing.”

Horangi stared at him for a moment. “Is it bad?”

“Depends on your definition of bad.”

“Fine. Define bad for me.”

König hummed. “Well… I consider something bad when it causes me physical harm on a regular basis.”

“With this?”

“Only if you’re bad at it.”

Horangi glared at him and watched him drain the water. He put his thoughts together long enough to cover himself. König wrapped him in the towel and then took him back to the sink, drying him off carefully.

“Is it degrading?”

“I’d consider it well respected.” König smiled at him. He was only slightly blushing now and it was… endearing instead of amusing.

Horangi frowned but just nodded. “Why can’t you just tell me what it is?”

“They haven’t decided if they want to actually give it to you.”

“If they don’t give it to me?”

König looked uncomfortable. “No one will hurt you.” There was a weird amount of conviction in his voice.

Horangi nodded a little. “Yeah, okay…”

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

A Little Much

Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist

Fluff, Evie and Astarion have self worth issues, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: It’s Evie’s first ball after the fall of the Netherbrain and somehow, facing down Baldur’s Gate elites feels more terrifying.

A/N: I’m alive! I know this hasn’t been requested by anybody but sometimes you need to ride the inspiration. And reminder to please COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THIS I NEED VALIDATION TO LIVE!!!

Word Count: 1.7k

“What about this one?” the tailor said, his tone starting to strain. “It’s a lovely color for your complexion.”

Evie didn’t say anything, running the fabric through their fingers. It was just about the finest fabric they ever felt. A small pang of guilt twisted inside them for simply touching it, as if their calloused fingers would somehow damage the smooth threads. Carefully, they let it back down on the table next to the pile of other rejected fabrics.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Astarion said. “Cliche as it may be to say, blue truly does bring out your eyes.”

Evie shifted, the familiar anxiety they’d been experiencing for the last two hours rising in their gut.

“I’m not sure,” they said, trying to sound discerning. “Maybe something a little more…simple?”

The tailor’s lips turned into a hard line. Evie had the distinct impression that if they were not the literal hero of Baldur’s Gate, he would have kicked them out ages ago. He must really need the commission.

“Simple,” he repeated, sharply. “Very well, I’ll see what I can find.”

Without even bothering to pick up the bolt of fabric, he spun on his heel and disappeared into the backroom.

Evie let out a short breath of relief. This whole song and dance had been going on for far too long. First ball or not, there had to be a simpler way. After the next round of samples they’d say they need to think about it and leave. It may be in rough shape, but their performance dress could still do in a pinch. Maybe they could convince Astarion to spruce it up.

As if feeling their thoughts turn in his direction, Astarion moved closer leaning into their ear. “I think you’re going to drive that man to baldness.”

Evie gave what they hoped was a nonchalant shrug. “Not baldness. Grayness, perhaps. His head is fairly well preserved.”

“Either way, he’s cursing your name.” He took up one of the other swatches, a dark blue patterned with silver stars, and examined it with an artful eye. “I still think you would look lovely in this. Not the whole dress, mind you, but for the bodice at least.”

They smiled a little at that. An image of a gown came easily into their mind, although not as detailed as they were sure Astarion could picture it: something grand and striking, something a princess would wear waiting for a knight to rescue them. And with that thought, the fantasy ended.

“I think it’s a bit much for my taste,” Evie said. “Might suit you though. I know you prefer red, but you truly look well in just about any color.”

They glanced over at Astarion expecting to catch him mid preen. Instead, his gaze was solely on them, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

“What?”

“Do you actually want to go to this ball?” he said, suddenly.

Evie straightened in surprise. “Of course, what are you talking about?”

“I am talking about that infuriating thing you do when you technically agree to something by not disagreeing before dragging your feet at every step.”

“I don’t–.” They stopped at the side eye Astarion was giving them. It was something they were working on.

“That’s not what’s happening,” Evie corrected.

“Enlighten me then.”

They shifted their stance, suddenly feeling very hot all over. When did it get so stuffy?

“It’s just…it’s all a bit much, isn’t it?”

“The ball?”

“No. I mean, yes, a bit, but this.” They waved their hand around the shop. “He’s charging twenty gold a yard for some of this. And that’s just the fabric, let alone the labor cost. And it’s not as if I’ll ever wear it again. I mean, how many balls can I expect to attend in one lifetime?”

“So, you’d rather wear something you already own?” Astarion questioned with clear judgment in his tone.

Evie’s lips pressed into a line, their defenses rising. “It’s not as scandalous as all that.”

“Only if you want to dress like the entertainment.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, “so long as you don’t mind being the entertainment. Or at minimum have people handing you their used cups all evening.”

Evie bit back a groan of frustration. He really didn’t understand.

“I just think it’s all rather frivolous,” they vented.

“You think fashion is frivolous?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you implied.”

“I didn’t–.” They stopped, taking a deep breath. This wasn’t going how they wanted it to go. They just wanted to leave and not have to think about hundreds of eyes on them whispering speculations about who they were and where they came from. They almost wished they were the entertainment. It would be more honest and they’d walk out with well earned gold in their pocket.

“Look, I know dressing well is important to you,” they said, carefully. “I know that choice is important to you, but it’s just not to me. I don’t need to make a statement outside of my performances. As soon as I’m off that stage, I am perfectly content for people to stop looking at me.”

Astarion scoffed. “Then you’ve somehow missed the point of the evening. People are going to be looking ,whether you want them to or not. The only thing you have control over is what they see.”

Evie glanced away. He was right, of course. They had wanted to focus on the other aspects of the evening; seeing their friends again, free food, listening to music instead of playing it for once, just seeing how the other half lived. They should have known it would come with a price.

“Well then maybe it is best if I skip it.”

It was a testament to how much effort Astarion was putting into understanding that he didn’t just throw his hands up in frustration. He did, however, get in one exasperated sigh.

“What are you so afraid of them seeing?”

A mouse. A rat. A thief. Gur scum. Unclean. Unworthy. Wrong.

It must have shown on their face as Astarion touched their chin, turning them back to him.

“None of that,” he said, his tone suddenly serious.

Evie didn’t really know what to say. They just knew they couldn’t bring themselves to look directly at him.

Astarion, however, didn’t falter. “You’ve been my mirror in more ways than I’d like to admit. Do you wish to know what I see?”

“I’ve got a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”

His face lit up with pride. “There’s my love. Let’s start with that deceptively smart tongue disguised by a very pleasant mouth.”

“Pleasant mouth?”

“Very,” he insisted. “Now let’s see…a nose that one might describe as too long for your face, but actually proportions your features quite well when taken all together. I think it’s the little bump that does it. Good hair with some potential. You are with me after all darling. It’s hard to compete with perfection.”

“I think you’re losing the point of this exercise.”

“I’m not finished. I haven’t even gotten to those two near supernaturally blue eyes of yours. They are always so much more endearing when they’re trying to be annoyed with me.”

Evie tried to glare, they really did, but their smile gave them away.

Astarion’s own grin only widened. “And don’t even get me started on your truly lovely skin and even more enticing neck.”

“Careful my love, you’re starting to drool,” they teased.

He answered by pulling them to him, playfully nipping their neck with a growl.

“Astarion!” They laughed.

“Don’t interrupt me,” he said before moving his lips to their ear. “You’re so much more than all of them.”

Evie’s brows furrowed as they felt the air shift. His tone was softer now and all the more serious for it.

“Even before you saved everyone in this miserable city, you were worth more than any of the fools who thought they were superior because they were the ones to put coin in your purse. If the world actually judged people by the things that mattered, near everyone would question their worthiness to even speak with you. I know I do.”

They felt their heart clench, turning their head to catch their love’s eye. “Astarion…”

He gave them a half smile. “Not to worry darling, it’s only in moments. It’s comforting to remind myself that you’re not infallible. You did make the very foolish decision of choosing me after all. Besides, I’m selfish by nature. I’m not about to do something noble like let you go to find someone better.”

He left his voice light, but Evie could feel the weight of his fears. It had faded for the last few months, but still lingered. Time was the only cure for it. And Evie intended to give him as much as it took.

“I’m holding you to that,” they said.

Astarion watched them a moment, surprise flashing across his features before settling into something much more self satisfied.

Evie felt the need to say something to keep him from getting down right smug, but the kiss he placed on their lips quickly evaporated those notions. He was just as relieved to hear their words and they were to hear his.

They held each other close, even as their lips drifted apart content to stay in their own little bubble for a few moments longer.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want,” Astarion murmured, “but don’t let what other people think stop you. They’re not worth the consideration.”

Evie took a breath, finally letting his words settle. They wouldn’t be alone. Astarion would be with them, and Wyll and Karlach and Gale and Shadowheart and Lae’zel; really the only people whose opinion mattered. How could anyone make them feel small with love like that?

“Alright,” Evie conceded. “I might need to borrow your eye though. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“Gladly, so long as I don’t catch you squirming thinking about how much it’s all going to cost,” Astarion countered.

“I will…try.”

He beamed and Evie could already feel their last few coppers clinking together. They pushed it aside though. Their purse might regret it but they would not. If there was ever a reason to celebrate, the knowledge of never being alone again seemed just about the best.

[alexa-fika]

I’m at whole cake rn and can’t stop thinking about reader who happens to be Sanji’s little sibling he adopted while on the sea going with Sanji to see Germa. Bonus points if it’s winged child reader!

Love you sm!!! 💖💖

Danger Skittles ( Sanji x male!winged!child!reader)

A/N: So proud of that tittle, I havent read this arc so I had the manga next to me as l wrote so I hope it is good, maybe not a COOK but it is a cook, ya know? Sorry this oke took so long as I said Im going trough a hard moment rn. Also I will be taking those bonus point in the form of kisses Pay up 🫴🏼

Btw PISSED CAUSE TUMBLR FROZE WHEN I WAS ABOUT TO HIT POST, HAD EVERYTHING READY AND IT GOT DELETED THIS IS THE SECOND TIME I HAD TO DO THIS, thank God I write my things in grammarly and them I copy paste them here cause other wise I would have rage quit yall. IT DID IT AGAIN

Dividers by @/saradika

“Sanji-nii, I don’t like this; your family sounds scary, and they want to hurt Big Brother.”

“I know…I know…I‘ll get us out of this,” he promises his brother, walking down the familiar hallways he had grown up in, the walls that his brothers tortured him in, walking into the dining hall and taking his seat, placing the young child on his lap, ignoring the talk of his brothers

Reader munches on the food Sanji passes to him as he huddles close to him, trying to shield himself with his wings to avoid the crude commentary of his family

“Just ignore them,” he whispers to the boy, rubbing his wings, gently stroking his hair, shielding him from the insults,

“These idiots aren’t worth it.”

“Okay”

Niji soon notices that his insults are not reaching his brother, so he switches his anger to the head cook, berating her for making them ‘vile food.’

Commanding her to stay still, with a sadistic grin on his face, he aims his plate and lunches it towards her face until Sanji quickly moves Reader from his lap, placing him on their chair, as he steps in front of Cosette to stop the incoming plate.

“Just what do you think you are doing, you bastard?” he hisses at his older brother, protecting the cook and shielding her from harm.

Reader Awe at his brother's actions grin growing when he sees Sanji bend down, turning towards Cosette and complimenting her on the food

Cosette chuckles nervously. She’d seen them react violently to her cooking before, but Sanji’s reaction was one she’d never seen before, his compliment catching her off guard, causing her to turn a faint pink color, her cheeks rosy.

Reader’s cheer soon changed into warning screams, seeing as Niji stomped towards him, aiming a kick his way

“Sanji-nii!!”

Sanji quickly turned around at the sound of the screams, having no time to make a move as his brother’s leg was brought rapidly down only to stop right in front of Sanji as his father ordered him to stop

“Let me go!” The boy screams, flapping his wings furiously, struggling against Judge’s grasp as he takes hold of him

“ Your mistakes keep growing. May I attribute that to this amalgamation here and this man?” he said, shoving a picture of Zeff and Reader for Sanji to look at, the sound of the child’s wings still echoing around the rooms as they struggle against the man’s grip

“I suggest you cooperate with the marriage to Pudding lest you want both of their heads rolling at your door,” he said, dropping Reader, watching him flutter back to Sanji

He walks out of the room, the rest of his children following him, glancing back at Sanji, who by now has kneeled down to comfort The child

“Make sure tomorrow’s ceremony goes without a hitch, you know what we are capable of,” he said, leaving the room

Sanji was left staring at the floor in shock and anger and then at his brother’s teary and fear-filled eyes

After a minute, he had collected himself; he looked back at Reader, his hand petting his wings gently

“ It’s going to be fine, it‘s going to be fine… ” he tells him, placing his arm around him, trying to protect him as much as he possibly could.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Sanji-nii!”

“No, there’s nothing to apologize for; I promise you’re not doing anything wrong, okay?” Sanji says softly, brushing his wings and playing with his hair gently to soothe them

“But now, because I’m here, they are making you do things you don’t want to do!”

“ Hey, hey, listen to me, you hear me? “ he says softly,

“This is not your fault, do you understand? This is not your fault,” repeating himself,

“This is not. Your. FAULT! You got that?”

“Bu-

“No buts! Understand?” Sanji says firmly, grabbing hold of his wrists, stopping them from saying another word,

“ I said it’s not your fault. Am I clear?”

“O-okay,” he nods, rubbing at his eyes, trying to rid himself of the tears not cascading from them

“Will Papa Zeff be okay?”

Sanji sighs softly,

“ I promise I will make sure the old fart is okay,” he whispers to his little brother, his eyes shining with determination.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yeah.. but I don’t know what’s going on, im scared. Why did Big Brother fight Uncle Luffy? Why did we have to leave the straw hats? Why did they want you to marry that woman? And why are you wearing cuffs?”

Sanji's heart sinks when he hears his brother start asking questions. He knew it was only a matter of time before he started asking questions, and he deserved to know the truth, but he was not so sure the harsh honesty of reality is something he could take, so he decided to hold most of the facts back.

“It’s… it’s complicated, ” he begins, his tone is serious as he continues,

“ Just know that all of this will be resolved soon...”

“ I promise I’ll answer all your questions later, but right now, we have to stay focused, okay?” he whispers softly to his brother, caressing his chin with his finger gently.

“I need you to be brave, just for a little bit longer, okay? “ he says, his voice a gentle, soothing tone as he takes his little brother’s hand and stands up, placing him on his feet,

“ I know I can count on you, don’t I?

“Yeah”

Sanji smiles, hugging the small boy

“Thank you. This is why you’re my favorite.”

“That’s because your brothers are assholes, Sanji-nii.”

Sanji’s head snaps to the toddler, shocked at his words, eventually letting out a baffled chuckle

“Normally, I would have you in timeout for using those words, but I ‘ll let it slide in this situation.”

He smiles mischievously, his eyes still tear-filled, and his body stiffed with the exchange they had had with Judge

“Im glad Big Brother is not an ass like the skittle men.”

“Okay, don’t push it.”

Maybe part two when Nil takes revenge on Cosette? I know that last part was kind of out of nowhere and a lil bit occ but I had to get that comedy in, I had to its in my DNA

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[recreationalfanfics]

can i request buddha, Hercules, jack and Brunhilde with douma or kokushibou reader please ❤

So this is a Yandere request but here's a TWIST: The Kokushibo! Reader just being incredibly loyal to Brunhilde as they were with Muzan and seeing her as their new master.

Many human champions were summoned back from when they were in their prime...no one ever said that a demon couldn't be the prime for a human who was turned into one. Göll cowers next to her sister in fear as Brunhilde watches the man- no...the demon manifest. She would have chosen their brother, but the malice and anger they carried with them until their death would perhaps make them just a bit more hungrier to see a gods blood stain their blade and make it more likely for them to win. Once it fully manifests, it walks in front of Brunhilde, they look at Brunhilde before kneeling before her.

"I am at your command, My Lady."

Yandere! Brunhilde:

- You quickly become her right hand man...demon?? and her favorite out of all the other champions, while she loves Göll, it can be tiring to constantly hear her crying and cowering. With you, she felt calm. With you, she felt her head become clearer. She felt drawn to you, incredibly so.

- Brunhilde herself is a manipulative Yandere but considering you pledged your undying allegiance to her, it makes her obsession with you grow as well. The fact you also will do whatever she asks without question makes her heart flutter and reassure her that nothing will steal you away from her.

- You're also a warrior like her, you've seen battle and you've seen blood. You are aware of the sacrifices that must be maid and that each battle results in Brunhilde losing her sisters painfully, maybe when you were resurrected you started to feel a bit more than you did as a demon and you'd put a hand on her and comfort her.

- You do also keep her a bit more composed when she gets short tempered or sighted and assuring her that she still has you and she looks at you and her eyes soften.

- Right...she has you. You. You. You.

- When your fight happens, she preforms the Völundr with you, to ensure you don't get hurt and you're motivated to keep your Lady Brunhilde safe.

- You don't know the way you make her giggle when you say that stuff. When you call her YOUR Lady, she isn't used to getting such respect from God's so she never expected to get it from a demon. You're polite as you are strong.

- She hates it when other women or men come up to you, they think they can steal you away! So she stands there, looking very upset, and you tend to her immediately.

- You are not dumb, you may be aware of her Yandere tendencies and regardless of how you feel; you promised her your loyalty and that is what she will receive. She brought you back to life after all...a second chance to prove to humanity you're worth more than your brother.

- Also if you have multiple eyes, that is so chill with her tbh. Like, if you let her she will kiss you on each eyelid to show you just how much she loves you if you start to feel insecure but also, like, you sense there is a certain possessiveness in those kisses.

Yandere! Jack the Ripper:

- What a curious creature you are indeed. He saw Brunhilde introduce you and while most people were hesitant to work with a demon, he was more than pleased. Then he saw your color...

- What a noble color it is, truly, it dazzled him. Such strength and such nobility even if you were a creature forsaken by God and driven by bitter jealousy.

- Jack tries his best to speak with you, when you train or when you enjoy some tea to yourself. He's simply fascinated by you: by your appearance, to the anger and loathing you hold in your heart, to your composure.

- He simply admired you, was fascinated with you, obsessed with you. However, it appears that only Lady Brunhilde was your main concern. You weren't mindlessly loyal to her and he understands being grateful but you would die for her and it honestly irked Jack off a bit.

- She was willing to have her own friend killed for the sake of humanity and while Jack was fighting to save it as well, it bothered him how you could be the next peice on her chessboard she could sacrifice.

- He doesn't understand it, how could you be so loyal and trusting of someone like her...unless there was another reason...you didn't love her, did you? The answer was "no", you were simply obeying her, but he just can't help it but feel sick when he sees you standing next to her. Her whispering into your ear, most likely battle strategies and looking at her like she was the important thing in the world.

- Jack knows he can't exactly hurt you nor Brunhilde, plus with the current events fighting between themselves wouldn't exactly be a strategic advantage and only cost them everything.

- You're so stoic all the time, he's heard your backstory and he understands why, but if you soften up or become more expressive to Brunhilde then it just confirms his fears. If you're more tender and soft with him then he feels like crying tears of joy. Does this mean you see him as precious to your heart as he sees you?

- He feels like he understands you, better than anyone here. Both of you driven by your families to become the monsters you are. Both of you died tragically, alone, and as either traitor or heartless but both sharing the title of ruthless killers.

Yandere! Hercules:

- Okay so let's say he and Jack's battle ended in a draw, he confronts Brunhilde for using a serial killer to represent humanity and you just see some big man coming towards your Lady looking very hostile.

- You draw your sword and put it to his chest, narrowing your eyes and daring him to come any closer. It takes him a while to realize what you are and when he does, he glares at Brunhilde.

- "First a killer and now a demon?" He glares, his gaze hardening. You simply warn him to mind his tounge but Brunhilde assures you that Hercules will not harm her and you listen to her and bow your head in apology.

- Which he didn't expect. After all, demons are supposed to be heartless killers who preyed on humans, yet you seemed to be genuine with your apology and remained silent. Of course, that wasn't enough to change his mind about you and how he didn't think you'd deserve to represent humanity, but it was enough where he grew curious about you.

- His obsession with you grew over the next few interactions that you two have with each other. Yes you're appearance may be off putting to most but there was also something about you that Hercules could never seem to get off his mind. The way you didn't seem to look down on your fellow humans and followed them silently, the amount of respect you had towards the Gods and their abilities, not really hating them like how your fellow humans did.

- There have been times where you seem to show human emotions. Such as concern with Okita gets coerced into fighting that instigator of a God, Loki, and you help heal him with such care and precision. Hercules honestly is surprised to see an ounce of humanity within you.

- He loves Brunhilde like a sister, he truly does, but even he can't deny that she has her wicked schemes and while she seems to hold you in high regard, he worries about your safety. Perhaps he challenges you to a friendly fight, since he's seen your strength and Blood Demon Art at work, and he tries to convince you.

- Convince you to not be so loyal to Brunhilde, that you'd simply be just another sacrifice in her game of chess, and that she wouldn't really care about you. He gets increasingly frustrated in the fight because you're quite adamant on ignoring him and saying you're aware. This causes him to be a bit more brutal in his battle with you.

- He stops when he sees that he's injured you, regret and guilt for what he's done as he helps you up and promises it was an accident. Hercules will help you but seeing your hurt is horrible and he made his own fears come true, that the other God's would do something 10x as worse to you.

- I think he'd kidnap you after this, since you both are on completely different sides so he can't keep an eye on you unlike the other two. So he genuinely just wants to keep you safe and he will apologize but he won't let you leave. You don't understand how dangerous this battle is and Brunhilde could always put someone else in your place...just, anyone but you.

[moonlightisdancing]

Grá Rúnda/ j.t.k

Pairing: au!Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Word count: 4k

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI. Contains: arguing, angry grabbing/mentions bruises, unprotected sex, mentions/alludes to a lot of death (not in immense detail), mentions burning at the stake, fire used as a weapon/burning structures, public execution/murder, blood, severe injuries, death of an animal

please lmk if any warnings need to be added!

masterlist

a/n: thank you for reading! comment to be added to the tag list for this fic 🫶🏻

»»———-　x　———-««

“You promised me we would be safe.” You couldn’t help but to shake, grasping the leather book in your hands.

“Y/n, we will be safe, but in order for that to happen we need to go. Now.” Jacob brushed past you, gathering a small sack of some essentials. Preserved meats he must have prepared earlier on his own, a couple books, his mandolin and a guitar. His free hand wrapped around your forearm as he tried guiding you towards the door. You planted your feet and pouted as you tried fighting against him, waiting for him to answer you although you never asked a question. Why did he lie?

“Do you want us to die here, Y/n? Is that what you want?” He snapped and pulled your arm much harder than you anticipated, the area where his fingers dug into your skin beginning to sting. Tears swelled in your eyes as you looked at him pleadingly. The man that stood before you was not the man you’d fallen in love with summers ago, but instead showing his true colors of a monster. Someone who was willing to hurt you physically and emotionally was not someone worth your time, you knew that. So why did you feel inclined to follow him again?

“You promised me-”

“Listen, either you can come with me and live or you can run the risk of dying in this cabin. There’s no time to argue.” His grip loosened enough for you to pull your arm against your side, replacing where his hand squeezed with your own. Your arm was sensitive to the touch, and you were certain you’d have bruises in the shape of his fingers adorning your skin.

Words evaded you, if you spoke you’d cry and you didn’t want to look weak in front of him. Instead, you nod in agreement, reaching your hand for his. Even if he could not offer gentle love, you could. Jacob took your hand, mindful of the strength behind the pull as he led you outside to Seraphina. The entire time Jacob was untying her she seemed on edge, like she’d seen something. Jacob helped you up before following after, positioning himself behind you. His arms rested against your waist as he reached for the reins. He sat seemingly closer than last time, his arms tighter against your sides and his groin pressing hard into your back. That warm feeling found a home in you again, his body against yours ridding you of the emotions that resided not too long ago.

“Where are we going?” The question barely escaped your lips. Ignorance truly was bliss sometimes.

“Back to my first cabin.”

“Where they found you before? Do you not think they’ll search there first, Jacob?” Daggers. Every inch of your chest felt like it had been impaled by daggers. You were doomed. Jacob was doomed. The air grew a sweet smell as it cascaded over the forest, so sweet your stomach churned. Having seen your share of people burned at the stake, you knew that smell distinctly to be flesh.

“Those men don’t bother checking anywhere twice. Besides, it’s been five years. They couldn’t catch me then, they will not catch me now.”

The rest of the ride was silent, your hands gently against either side of Seraphina’s neck as you tried to ignore the feeling swelling inside. Too many emotions that shouldn’t mix had done exactly that as a mixture of guilt, fear, and oddly arousal swarmed around one another in confusion. Jacob had been mumbling under his breath, guiding his trusty mare down unworn paths. You started to wonder if he knew where he was going or if he was simply running. That was until you bestowed your eyes upon another cabin in the woods.

This one seemed significantly less structurally sound than the last, but it still had four walls. Jacob slowed Seraphina down next to a post next to the door. It was about the only piece of this building you felt would survive a wind storm. You sat and stared at the walls before you as Jacob tied Seraphina up once again. Every thought seemed to run through your mind as your eyes studied the worn wood, but you tried not to latch onto any of them. Worry did no good, and while you found comfort in planning ahead you knew this was different. There was no planning ahead, simply playing it by ear. The sickeningly sweet scent never left the air as your mind wandered to images of those people at the stake. Images you tried desperately to forget, but allowed to jolt you awake some nights. Jacob’s hand on your knee pulled you from the depths of your mind, his fingers gently against your skin.

“We should go inside. We need a plan and to rest.” His childlike demeanor and whimsy was no longer present in his voice, instead replaced with a serious and demanding tone. Again, words couldn’t form as you stared at him and nodded, using his shoulders to help you down.

Inside was almost exactly what you expected, being almost the same as the other. The fireplace was smaller and the room lacked shelves and a desk. There only resided a small bed, the fireplace, and a stack of firewood.

I will build you a kingdom wherever we go.

Your kingdom surely hadn’t been built in one day, and while you tried to be optimistic, you felt more hopeless than anything. But you love Jacob, and for that love you’d endure anything.

“Come, sit.” Jacob pointed towards the fireplace and waited for you to sit beside him before lighting the wood. You wanted to ask so many questions, but in the same breath you wanted silence. Ignorance truly was bliss.

“Tell me the truth, Jacob. Why did you run from Dinaria?” Your hand gripped his tightly in fear of his response. It was no secret he’d seen you read his journal, he had no choice but to tell the truth.

“My father,” He sighed, turning to face you. “My father is the king of Dinaria.”

Your heart sank. Part of you found a glimmer of hope. If Jacob was a prince by blood, maybe, just maybe, he could be your groom. Dinaria was known to have a wealthy royal family, even the kingdom thrived up until that outer circle closest to the woods. But those not rich in coin were rich in knowledge and trade, which was admirable in and of itself.

“So you are a prince?” You asked, tilting your head suggestively at him.

“I guess, well, not really anymore. I was banished from the castle after overhearing my father’s plans. My cousin took my spot, and I took his. My rules were simply to stay in Dinaria and sing to those in the town, or die. Hence they came looking for me when I ran, but gave up when they couldn’t catch me.”

Too much. It was too much. Not only for little Jacob to have suffered such horrible trauma, but to hear his voice tremble as he told his story. For a fleeting moment you wished to go back in time and hold him, telling him it would be okay. You wanted to protect little Jacob. He watched your face as you digested the information he’d fed you, waiting for any response. The words finally came as you felt color creep back into your face.

“What were his plans?” Your voice was hesitant but eager.

“To kill King Emyr, the royal family, and as many people of Novaria as he could. A war if you will.”

As quick as the color found your cheeks, it quickly disappeared again.

“King Kenric is a greedy bastard. He wants to expand Dinaria in order for the kingdom to live more lavishly. It was to happen when you married Prince Darian, so I killed him.”

“You killed Darian?”

“My father knows marriage entails not only the entire royal family, but the kingdom, too. The less people in his way, the better. If there was no wedding, there was no attack. I killed Darian to save you, Princess Y/n.”

You pulled your hand away from Jacob’s, rubbing your eyes with the balls of your hands in attempts to hide the tears pooling in your eyes. Jacob reached his arm around your hunched body as you attempted to muffle soft cries.

“I’ve been visiting you for all these years so I could save you. The first time I laid my eyes on you, you were so gorgeous and kind… Well, I fell in love right there.”

“What if they catch us? We’ll never see each other again and I-”

He hushes your worries with a gentle kiss on the lips. You inhale deeply, taking in everything that was him. You nimble fingers crawl their way up the front of his tunic, pressing against the bare skin of his stomach and chest. His skin is always so warm, a warmth you know you’d not be able to live without when your father’s men inevitably found him.

Jacob slowly laid you back against the floor, the fire still burning hot next to your bodies as his hands explored your skin. You knew what you wanted, and hoping he wanted the same you broke the kiss.

“Can we have sex again? Just in case?” You mumble into his neck, trying to avoid the tears threatening to rip through your chest. He knew what you meant by just in case.

Based on the smell lingering deep in the forest, you both knew tomorrow was not promised. Jacob nods and pulls you closer to him, giving into your desires presumably one last time.

Jacob was gentle, his fingers softly resting against your supple skin. He sucked and kissed your neck until it turned shades of blue and purple, tender to the touch each time his lips returned to kiss you. His mouth explored your body more than before, paying homage to places you didn’t know existed. If his length wasn’t busy working you down to nothing, his mouth was, aiding in a session much longer than last night’s. But as all good things, this too had to end.

The fire was long gone as he hitched your leg up over his hip. Impeccable performance for the lack of light if you had to say. You weren’t sure you could move so confidently in the dark, so you let him take control of where your bodies went. Your fingers were pressed deeply into his shoulders as his hips snapped against yours. Pleasure washed over you countless times tonight, yet he still hadn’t himself found release. You knew better than to ask, he was the experienced one. Jacob’s pace hadn’t let up, that was until your center squeezed around him one last time. He buried himself so deep it felt you’d become one, only furthered when his release coated your insides, and for the first time in five years you felt you could keep him safe. If it weren’t for him stifling a sniffle, you’d have started crying yourself.

“Jacob?” You softly whispered, pressing your palm against the cheek not against your bare chest. Your fingers reached to tuck his hair behind his ear, lingering to rub his lobe between your thumb and forefinger. He was still buried inside of you, his fingertips against your ribs as he laid against your breasts and cried.

“I don’t want to lose you, Y/n. I love you.”

»»———-　Dinaria　———-««

The kingdom that was always filled with joyous laughter and simple songs filling the air would soon be engulfed in fire if Torsten and his troop didn’t find Jacob. The children and their mothers stood watching as their homes were burned to the ground, pleading for it to end. For rain to fall and save their homes. The rain never came, and neither did empathy from Torsten’s men. They seemed to derive a level of pleasure from the torment.

“Where’s the fucking bard?” Torsten grabbed the back of a man’s tunic, holding him tight against his chest. The man barely pointed to one of the last standing houses to the left. Torsten asked no further questions, throwing the man to the ground as he led his men and horses the short distance to the worn down tan structure.

He hadn’t bothered to use words, forcing his way into the bard’s home, the door nearly splintering in the process. Torsten was filled with even more rage than before upon entering, being met with an elderly man sitting at a table. He’s drinking tea and reading a book, looking seemingly unbothered by the torture and death of many civilians. He places his book down and takes one more sip of his tea before sighing heavily.

“A knock would have sufficed. Can I help you with something?” The bard pushed himself up out of his chair, Torsten’s men readying to attack.

“Where is your son?” Torsten gritted.

“What is this son you speak of? I only have a nephew.”

“So the brown-haired boy is your responsibility?”

“He ran away years ago after being banned from the castle. Once King Kenric sent his men to find Jacob and came back empty handed, we presumed he was dead. Gone from the elements before becoming one himself. If you want more information, it’s best you talk to the king.”

“And who have I had the absolute pleasure of speaking to?”

“Thomas, and while you’re at the castle…” Another deep sigh was pulled from Thomas’s chest, a noticeable hesitation before he finished his thought. “Tell my brother he will pay for what he’s done. To me, to Jacob, to this kingdom. He will pay.” There was venom laced through the word ‘brother’ as it left Thomas’s lips.

Torsten stood in complete shock over a simple word, brother, as he tried grasping what Thomas had said. The king hadn’t had a brother, at least not one anyone knew of. If Jacob was in fact the bard’s nephew, and the king was his brother then that meant… It all clicked for Torsten as he simply nodded and exited Thomas’s home.

“We will rest here tonight. Tomorrow we will go straight to the king and demand-”

“But what if something happens to Princess Y/n?” A squeaky voice coming from an equally scrawny man emerged from the middle of Torsten’s army.

“Do you dare question my plans?” Torsten pushed his way through the crowd, gripping one of the soldier’s shoulders. With swift action, Torsten pulls his blade and rams it full force into the man’s chest. The sea of people watched as the soldier’s skin grew pale, blood pooling in the corners of his mouth. There was no time for him to cry for help, or to plead for forgiveness. Torsten was sure to make death the young soldier’s only option.

“Now does anyone else have any objections?” Torsten asked loudly, removing the sword from the man’s body and wiping the blood in the grass. He took silence as a response, surely nobody would be unwise enough to speak against him. “Good. Now find somewhere to rest. Take what is yours for our troubles. We will pay King Kenric a visit tomorrow regarding his son.”

The night was spent filled with torture for the people of Dinaria. The innocent faces saw more fire in mere hours as opposed to their entire lives. Everything they had was lost to the fire. Their families and homes of which some spent their lives building. The people of Dinaria suffered things no human should endure, and yet nobody came to help, not even their king. It was surprising nobody came to see what the ruckus was about, perhaps nobody cared had it not pertained to the king.

Torsten and his army made their way to the castle after a night of torture and destruction, leaving the townspeople with nothing, not even hope. Upon arrival, Torsten instructed his men to kill the guards at the gate and storm the castle. It was all too easy, surely some sort of trap. Nobody’s castle would be so terribly guarded, no king would ignore the cries of their people. Yet there he sat in his throne room, King Kenric, in all his bastardous glory.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” His knowing voice echoes against the walls, drawing the men to attention. Word traveled fast, it was no surprise King Kenric knew what was coming his way.

“Where is he?” Torsten demanded.

“Don’t you think if I knew, he’d be dead already? He is a danger to others, and he is a danger to my people.”

“If you cared about your people, you would have saved them in our search.”

“They should have complied. I do not wish to protect the lives of those who cannot follow simple instructions. They will ruin the plans for this kingdom with defiance.” King Kenric stood from his throne and stood before Torsten. “Jacob will ruin my plans with defiance. A defiant shit like him should not get to live. There’s one last place we’ve seen him, perhaps that will aid in your searches. If you wish to continue living, you bring his head back to me on a stick as forgiveness for what you did to my people.”

»»———-　Jacob’s Cabin　———-««

“There’s a little town on the other side of Novaria. If we come up around here…” Jacob traced coal around his makeshift map along the borders of Dinaria, looping around Novaria until he reached the town with no name. “We can make it without being caught. The borders of Dinaria aren’t guarded, they expect the poor to take the brunt of any attack and then act accordingly.”

“This little town won’t be looking for you, too?”

“They never asked my name. Besides, the last time they saw me my hair wasn’t even past my ears.” He reached over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I promise we’ll be okay, Y/n. I would never let someone or something hurt you.”

“But what about you?” Your fists grasped at his shirt, trying to pull him away from his task at hand.

“I told you my life was a price I’d pay. But I also recall telling you we won’t get caught, so we should get going before the sun’s up too high.”

Looking out to the pink and orange hues stretching across the horizon behind the blanket of trees, you could only imagine being home in your castle with Jacob behind you. The thought of standing in the French windows with his arms around your torso, and chin perched on your shoulder tugged your heart strings. Reality settled in quickly as Jacob rested a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. Your body still felt sore from last night, the feeling of his lips and fingers lingering on your skin long after.

Jacob finished packing up essentials, encouraging you to do the same. There wasn’t much for you to grab, or even want, though. You settled on the books he brought before that he decided to leave behind for this next venture. The moment you stepped outdoors, an overwhelming sense of dread washed over you. Something wasn’t right. Something told you to bring Jacob with you and go home to the castle. Perhaps telling your father what truly happened, that Jacob was a prince, just maybe you could convince your father to spare him. If your father heard King Kenric’s plans for the expansion of Dinaria, maybe he’d understand. It felt like the only right option. Continuing to run not only put Jacob’s life on the line, but yours.

“Do you think we should go to Novaria? If we tell my father he might-”

“Y/n,” Jacob sighed as he placed a hand on your shoulder. “If we return to Novaria I will die on sight. We need to get to that town and change our looks to buy some time.”

You nod to indicate you understand and Jacob moves his hand down, locking his fingers with yours. He gathers his bags and leads you outside, again helping you mount Seraphina. You’ve ridden horseback more times in two days than you have in your entire life, typically they just carried the carriage you were in.

Jake’s POV

Y/n’s silence was maddening. Usually she had questions about the flowers or birds, anything other than nothing. You knew she was scared, truth be told you were, too. The difference between the two of you, while both scared of the same thing, only you were at risk of losing your life.

The sweet burning smell had dissipated since last night, only giving you little hope for the people back home. While you hated your father and what he’d done to Dinaria, you still had great love for the people. Your people. It isn’t their fault your father can’t run his own kingdom, yet they still suffered for his actions. Someway, somehow, you knew he would be blaming you for all of this.

Finally riding the edge of Dinaria meant a mere hour left of the journey to the unknown town. Each minute closer you prayed. Prayed for them to have forgotten you, for nobody to find you, for the safety of your girls. You would never forgive yourself if something happened to Seraphina or Y/n, the two of them being the only family you had. Not much time passed before you heard the echo of more feet, Y/n heard them, too. She turned to look at you, fear and tears in her eyes.

“Jacob…” She whispered with a shaky voice.

“Shh, it’s going to be okay. Nothing’s going to hurt you.” You ensured, letting one hand free to tap Seraphina, encouraging her to speed up.

No matter how fast her legs went, she couldn’t help the fact that troops of men were closing in. They had come from all angles, flanking you and your girls. There was nowhere to run, every direction stood a man more prepared for a battle than you were. Having noticed that, and still a decent distance away, you chose to keep running anyways. You wouldn’t give up that easily, especially knowing what would happen if you did. Reality was quick to settle in, you could not continue to run with Y/n, but you would try.

Trying let you nowhere as the men began screaming, scaring Seraphina until she began to buck. You hear the hooves of a dozen horses close in accompanied by a whoosh in the air. Seraphina’s bucking comes to an end as a sharp sting grows painful in your thigh. She makes a noise you’ve never heard her make before, but one you know to be of pain. You knew what had happened, but looking would make it real.

“Jacob! S-Seraphina!” Y/n’s voice was shaky and wet. The shock was setting in, you could hardly hear anything outside of a loud ringing and the cries of your mare while you tried calming down. Against your instincts, you look down to your thigh to assess the damage. It was over. It was all over.

“Y/n, we can’t run anymore.” You began pushing her off of Seraphina, the arrow ripping through your thigh as you moved.

“Jacob,”

“Please take these and keep them safe. I will find you again. I love you, princess.” Positive you were to die where you stood, you cupped her jaw and kissed her one last time, savoring her sweetness. A taste of her lips could not ease the pain in your leg, or your heart, but maybe it would help hold you over until you reached the stars. At least amongst the stars you would be free. You placed your hands on either side of Seraphina’s neck, her breathing growing slow as her whines quieted.

“And I love you, Seraphina. You’ve done well, you can rest. I’m sorry I failed both of you.” You kissed down her mane as she slowly fell to the ground.

The troops closed in as Seraphina took her final breaths. The arrow had pinned you to the lifeless body of your beloved mare, the only thing you’d felt love for before Y/n. Their voices grew louder and louder, only soft cries of Y/n sticking out to you from the crowd. Everything went dark as you were sure you took what felt like your final breath.

»»———-　　———-««

tag list: @literal-dead-leaf

[lenawritesfandom]

Silver Springs {Adam x f reader}

fandom: hazbin hotel shipping: adam x female reader warnings: swearing, suggestive scenes, cheating, minors dni summary: you're part of the band and adam breaks your heart word count: 596 a/n: this song and scenario has been stuck in my head forever now. i know this is short but i hope you enjoy nonetheless.

{You could be my silver spring Blue-green colors flashin' I would be your only dream Your shinin' autumn ocean crashin' Don't say that she's pretty And did you say that she loved you? Baby, I don't want to know} You were a back up singer in Adam's band. You've been told that you were only there because Adam wanted to fuck you and that was it. Which was why for the longest time you tried to ignore his advances but he was quite persuasive. The man was funny, he knew how to make you laugh, cry, and bring you out of your shell. At first you'd only spend time with him during band practice or the moments the band would just party and hang out. He eventually got you to agree to go out on a real date with him. Everything seemed to be going good and you finally started to become vulnerable with him.

{So I'll begin not to love you Turn around, see me runnin' I'll say I loved you years ago Tell myself you never loved me, no Don't say that she's pretty And did you say that she loved you? Baby, I don't want to know Oh no And can you tell me was it worth it? Baby, I don't want to know} You and Adam moved in with each other after 6 months of dating. You figured it could be fun, and a great way to grow your relationship stronger, right? Everything was perfect. His kisses against your lips or the crook of your neck. The way his hand slid down your body and the way he had a trick with his fingers and tongue that brought you to the sense of Euphoria as you cried out his name. {Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me I know I could have loved you But you would not let me Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me I know I could've loved you, but you would not let me I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you Give me just a chance You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you}

One day you go out with one of your friends. A fellow winner just as you. You told him you'd be out all day and you were going to. You and your friend spent all morning walking around shops. You saw a cool leather jacket you thought Adam would have enjoyed wearing during a concert but you realized you forgot your wallet at home. "I will be back, I'm just going to run home and grab my wallet." Your friend offered to pay for it and you just pay her back but you told her you'd rather use your own money. So, you left and would later wonder if you'd rather have just paid her back. Stay in ignorance bliss with Adam. When you returned home you heard two voices moaning from down the hall. Your heart dropped. No, he wouldn't... You opened the door and saw your rose colored glasses shatter into a million pieces. You were just another one of Adam's playthings. He promised you that you weren't but here lies the truth. If he loved you, he wouldn't have cheated. {Was I such a fool? I'll follow you down til' the sound of my voice will haunt you Give me just a chance You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me I know I could've loved you, but you would not let me I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice} So you left him and the band. Your heart couldn't take being around him. All you pictured was the way he touched that woman the same way he used to touch you. Adam would send roses and try to corner you so you could listen to his pathetic excuses. Every single time it hurt turning him away. He stopped sending you roses, and reaching out. That made the pain of confrontation easier but caused another. The relationship was over. Whenever you both saw each other whether that be through mutual friends or in public you saw the discomfort on his face that you could tell that your presence haunted him because he really did love you. Good.... Because you loved him too...

[cruelcruelcowboy]

✎ — love language headcanons.

pairing: arthur morgan x gn!reader summary: just some fluffy and kinda long love language headcanons warnings: none a/n: this took a looot longer than expected, and i rewrote everything several times but i finally did it! sorry in advance for any mistakes my crappy writing hehe constructive feedback is welcome! ( ´ ▽ ` )b

gif is 100% by @itspapillonnoir bc i just realized it looks like im stealing ur gif im so sorry

——＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚— ☾ —˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊——

giving: acts of service/gift giving & physical touch

arthur is a natural giver, time and time again bending over backward when needed, yet never expecting a thing in return. he doesn't consider himself to be one with words, so he gives back in return, hoping his kind gestures will suffice where his words don't. it's no different when it comes to you, only instead of his usual platonic favours, he pours his heart into doing the most for you.

he knows the things you like, certain colors, foods, perfumes/colognes, all of it.  whatever you might have mentioned liking or craving in the past, he will frequently go out of his way just to bring back something you've spoken of or asked for.

usually, he’s fond of delivering his gifts straight to you, selfishly taking joy in the way you light up at whatever he's brought back. sometimes he wonders if you do it just so you don't hurt his feelings, but he wouldn't care regardless. you always make him feel seen, thanking him profusely, and never taking his kindness for granted.

on the off chance you’re away from camp, he’ll leave your gifts placed thoughtfully on your cot, usually accompanied on top of a handwritten note or paired with a fresh picking of your favourite flowers/herbs.

other times, he shows his love through gestures. he’ll make sure that your horse has been looked after for the day, that your laundry has been collected and brought back to your tent, or that there’s a bowl of hot stew waiting for you after a grueling job. he makes you feel like your efforts don't go unnoticed no matter how big or small, or what role you play in the gang.

some mornings, when a thick fog lays over the camp and the sun is only peaking over the horizon, arthur will beckon you over to the fire, waiting with a cup of coffee, “jus' how ya like it." even if you aren't a morning person, he certainly makes them worth it.

it definitely takes him a little while before he's confident enough to show any public displays of affection. only when the camp is quiet and there are few prying eyes will he lovingly run one of those bear-like hands down the back of your head, staring down at you fondly from beneath pretty brown eyelashes. he’ll place a delicate kiss on your forehead or cheek before letting the two of you get on for the day.

in private, however, he's all over you. he adores holding you, running his hands along your body, and tracing his fingers in mindless patterns on your skin. he'll kiss down your face and throat, pinning you down beneath him like a wild animal, secretly praying that you won't slip from his grasp and bolt off. thankfully you never do, to you, his arms are your home.

receiving: words of affirmation & quality time

when it comes to getting affection in return, he has no clue how to accept it, let alone process it. the shell of the big brash outlaw begins to crack and reveal a much softer inside. he'll blush and fuss and insist, “i ain’t a good man,” with a shy bow of his head and a mindless kick of his boot. all you can do is roll your eyes and shake your head with a smile.

no matter how reserved he is about it, you know how much he loves and appreciates the way you spoil him with your words of endearment and praise. you've got him blushing like a virgin just by the way you say his name so sickeningly sweet.

"thanks for looking out for me, arthur."

“you’re so handsome, arthur.”

“i really appreciate all that you do for me, arthur.”

“i love you, arthur.”

he couldn't tell if he was about to pass out or cry. no other person had ever shown him the type of genuine kindness and care that you did, and no matter how hard he tried, he could never gather why you kept coming back to him—but he would be forever grateful that you did.

frequently, you like to make excuses to get some one-on-one time with arthur, "dutch says we haaave to go take a nice long ride down along the river. it sounded pretty urgent, wouldn't wanna disappoint yaknow." he raises a brow, and the corner of his mouth begins to crack into a smile. "that so?" he's always quick to catch on, and plays right into your antics, "well then, i guess we better get goin' b'for he changes his mind."

at the end of the day, as long as you're with him, he's content and your presence is more than enough to take the weight of the world off his shoulders. wherever he is you are, and vice versa—attached at the hip. no matter if it's accompanying each other on errands or jobs across the states, stirring up trouble and fighting off the law, or enjoying the serenity of late nights around the campfire together, you're by his side till the end. and he wouldn't have it any other way.